Post by Neonhyper
I'm impatient, so part of this chapter isn't edited, sorry. Here is where I back away from the war, aptly named the 'War of the Dragon Wastes' (I might end up making a more detailed post about the actual war, what its about, what happens, etc.), and into the more personal side of the story.
This is where I introduce... PLOT TWISTS. READ AT YOUR OWN PERIL! MUAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA.Chapter Three.
I was also going to include a picture of Nasi, but for some reason when I scanned it, it's super tiny and you can't even see it. *Grumble* Aha! Here it is!
Nasia cupped her hand around the soldier’s mouth. He never got the chance to struggle before she slid a blade into the back of his chest and yanked it out. A silent kill was the best in this situation; the body fell with barely a thud upon the tower looming in the barracks of Wintergarde Keep. She, along with five Forsaken rogues, had been tasked with overtaking the Alliance settlement on the second day of war. With their main base taken, the Alliance would be a sickeningly easy target to finish off.
Her team slipped down the wooden stairs that lead to the exit of the watchtower. They were careful to mask the creaks that resounded from loose boards and occasionally missteps; they couldn’t afford to be caught, especially after having actually made it here in one piece. One of the rogues, a female, pushed open the heavy wooden door that led out of the tower.
Nasia glanced around the corner, drawing an arrow in her bowstring and glancing for any patrolling guards on the walkway. No one was coming towards them, so the blood elf gave her signal and the rogues slipped into the shadows and spread out to clear the upper level. She grinned as she heard the muffled thumping off the guards’ untimely demise.
Soon the rogues regrouped, and the six of them kept to the darkness as they walked above the open-spaced courtyard. Below rested five stone platforms, machines inside built by the gnomes, with help from the draenei, produced images the Alliance used to study the monsters of Naxxramas. With the necropolis fallen, they were inactive, and doing nothing but collecting dust.
The courtyard was empty. Her team didn’t want to take their chances with getting caught if they dropped in from below, so they steered through the square walkway until they got to a corner tower with the stairs. They carefully walked down again. The undead had their hands on their weapons, and Nasia held an arrow between her fingers so she could easily fire it if the need arose.
She looked back at the Forsaken, and hissed her orders, “I want three of you in the commander’s room, and two of you with me back on the roof. Should any alarms be raised, we need to be able to kill the runners and incomings.”
Nasia gave another signal, and the group split up.
“Eligo—I mean, Captain Dawnbringer!” The soldier came running into the main room of the barracks.
The paladin commander glanced up from his paperwork, raising an eyebrow as the man came rushing towards him, “Yes?”
“Our guards on the upper levels haven’t switched patrols with any of the other men yet!”
“They haven’t? Has anybody checked for them?” Eligor Dawnbringer harshly responded. He had no patience for lazy soldiers that couldn’t be bothered to stay awake.
“N-no, not yet sir...” The footman that had reported the news stuttered, “Would you like me to go see if I can---“
The captain was about to ask what was wrong, and then tell him to continue, until he noticed that the soldier’s face had gone wide-eyed and pale. Eligor waited, but the man never spoke another word, and as he trailed his eyes down he noticed a silver point jutting out of the soldier’s ribcage. A few seconds later, the man’s body limply fell off the blade and onto the ground.
Eligor looked up to see a rotting face holding the bloodied dagger. The undead opened his mouth into a cruel smile, revealing sickeningly rotting teeth, “Ello...” the assassin wheezed with a low accent.
To his sides uncloaked two other Forsaken rogues, each of them holding up menacing looking weapons to Captain Dawnbringer’s face. The paladin narrowed his eyes, before unleashing a wave of holy energy that sent all three spiraling back into the walls. Eligor picked up the war horn from the table in front of him, and blew loud and hard on it.
The sound echoed in the barracks, and he was sure the sound would reach the ears of those outside. Hopefully soldiers that would come to his aid, as he was sure these three weren’t the only ones sent to Wintergarde.
Luther grabbed his pillow and pulled it over his head and attempted to cover his ears as the sound of a horn came blasting through the inn where he was sleeping. Or had been sleeping, before a horn woke him up.
The nurses had been extremely kind when James had brought him to Wintergarde. They brought him to the inn and began tending to his burned leg and the not-so-serious other wounds he had received. After they had done all they could, Luther was left to rest and recover.
However, it wasn’t so relaxing now. Everyone who was in the inn was now scrambling and screaming. He wasn’t quite sure what was going on, but he decided he should check it out, and that most likely meant getting his armor on, ignoring the fiery pain that still lingered in his calf, and getting out of bed.
Luther groaned, ignoring the sting that traveled up his lower leg as stumbled off the mattress and headed for the chest where they kept his gear. He managed to clumsily, and painfully, get the armor on, and staggered downstairs and out the door to see all the remaining soldiers in Wintergarde heading for the barracks.
“Horde are in town! There are Horde in the town!” Some of them cried.
Luther rubbed his eyes, he didn’t see any Horde... until a throwing dagger whizzed by his shoulder from the tops of the barrack walkways. Then he saw them, skeleton, boney, undead, rogues. After that, the slaughtering began. He heard arrows, clashing of steel, burning fires, blasts of light, and screaming with shrill cries that would have haunted fragile people’s souls.
It was over.
Unfortunately, they had been caught. The alarm had been rung; all of Wintergarde was now attacking them. Nasia growled, four out of her five rogues were dead, their rotting flesh strewn across walls. The one that remained was clinging to a shred of life, and she would be next as soon as they managed to catch her.
The blood elf kept running from cover to cover, avoiding the ranged attacks thrown at her. What she didn’t avoid would be her undoing. A warm sensation gripped at her leg, and she found herself being pulled to the courtyard by a gold chain. At the source was the Judgement armor-clad paladin, Eligor Dawnbringer, who stared down at her with hateful eyes.
“Keep the elf alive, I want to pry what she knows out.” Eligor dropped the holy chain, it dissipated in a flash and the Alliance soldiers were quick to jump onto Nasia and hold her down. One of the men disarmed her of all her weapons.
“I... hate... you all.” Nasia hissed under her breath. Captain Dawnbringer pressed a foot on the base of her skull, forcing her face into the stone ground.
He tied chains around her wrists and with the help of the guards, got her standing up, “Down in the cells... keep watch over her until we can get a proper jailer.”
The footmen nodded, and were about to turn Nasia around. At the same time, Luther had finally stumbled his way into the entrance of the barracks. He looked across the courtyard, having heard rumors that they captured a prisoner. Luther narrowed his eyes as he saw who the soldiers were taking away. Her fel green eyes gazed at him for a split moment.
He had to look away; the look of disgust on her face sickened him. When he had seen her in the midst of battle, he never caught a good look at her. Now, now that she was being dragged away in front of his eyes, the blood elven archer seemed more beautiful than ever.
If only she wasn’t the enemy.