The Story of Vlad: Chapter VI, Familiar Faces

Chapter I, The Assault
Chapter II, He who resists
Chapter III, Rotten to the core
Chapter IV, The Resurrection
Chapter V, The Return to New Avalon

Jesus fuck. I finished it. It's only been three years since I last wrote a word about Vlad.

Amid the mist, a figure formed against the grey canvas at a slow pace. Its features became more accurate, its outline sharper as it moved closer, eventually contouring an image of a hooded woman. Her dark brown gown was wrapped loosely around her, hiding a curvy figure. Her face was partially covered by a scarf, yet leaving her green eyes, thick, dark eyebrows and a part of her forehead exposed to the humid air.

Despite the years and the shattering, the place was still tormented by the plague of undeath, holding the restless souls as prisoners in the cursed ghost town. The woman peered around as she walked as if looking for something, yet knowing where she would find it. The look in her eyes became more focused as she walked up to a small house. It lay in ruins: the chimney had collapsed through the roof, flames had coloured most of the wooden parts black years ago. She walked around it, dragging her hand along its scorched walls, until she suddenly stopped on the southeastern side of the little house. Next to the wall rested a mound; the final reminder of the nightmare, a waygate to the past. The woman crouched and peered at it. The unkempt barrow grew weed, which was an unusual sight in the long deserted township. While it showed no signs of tending, it emanated something comforting. The woman's face softened and her eyes got damp, finally allowing a teardrop to descend along her cheek.

A dried bough cracked under the pressure of a heavy boot. It startled the woman and caused her to cast a rapid gaze over her shoulder. A dark figure approached her slowly and calmly, stopping a few feet away from her. She pulled down the scarf that covered her mouth, stood up tardily and turned towards the figure that seemingly awaited her response to its presence. As the black saronite plate gave away his former alignment with ease, she spoke coldly, but with caution.
- I'm not sure how your kind has the backbone to step on these grounds anymore. I think it would be wise of you to turn around and walk away.
The figure gave the woman an echoing, nearly instant reply.
- Hello, Birgitta.
Her face was pale, her eyes wide open as she stared straight at the masculine figure. She followed him with her shocked gaze as he walked to her side. His sorrowful eyes descended upon the barrow - the barrow that so faithfully contained the remains of what was once the dearest thing to him. And as it succumbed to the chill of the grave, a part of him was buried as well.
- I thought... I... thought... you died, Birgitta stuttered.
- I did die, he murmured between his rotting teeth, granting Birgitta a grim glare. The woman swallowed, quickly realising the clumsiness of her remark. - Just if the light-forsaken bastards had left it there.
- They reanimated you into a monster... Where you behind th--, Birgitta took an abrupt breath, as if she had forgotten to breathe. - Did you kill Isa?!
Vladan narrowed his eyes visibly, still looking at the grave. He grabbed onto the hilt of his runeblade and pierced the ground with it, which caused Birgitta to gasp and take a step back in fear. Vladan turned towards her, still holding on to the tip of the hilt.
- How dare you even consider that?
- Since you still have your life, it must've cost that of others!
The words seemed to strike Vladan somehow. He pulled the sword out of the soil and peered at the glowing blade, turning the edge towards himself and away again.
- I should have ended it myself long ago, but I was afraid. Too cowardly to take my own life! he yelled and seemed increasingly riled for a moment. - I fear what awaits me, Birgitta, as foolish as I am to believe those holy rollers when they speak of the purgatory.
Birgitta remained silent, merely examining him, the expression on her face becoming less judgmental by the second.
- I must be in a dream, she whispered in disbelief.
- This, Vladan began, - This is as real as it gets. I've run away from it long enough. My life cost that of many, and most of all, that of my wife and my daughter. I'm ready for what comes.
As teardrops slowly descended along Birgitta's cheeks, a feeling he thought long forgotten awakened somewhere deep inside. A faint glimmer of clemency. Compassion.
- Vladan..., Birgitta's voice turned into a fragile shade of what it was just a moment ago, as if she had suddenly become scared of him. She slowly turned towards him, her mahogany hair covering most of her face. - I'm sorry.

- Birgitta? a yell reached the two from a distance.
- I'll be right there, honey! she replied fast, shamelessly disguising her voice chirpier.
Although she seemed doubtful for a short moment, Birgitta hastily scrabbled inside the neckline of her gown. She pulled out a small locket that appearead golden. It was attached to a tarnished necklace of different material, perhaps copper. She handed - no - threw it over to Vladan, expressing slight disgust at the thought of touching him.
Vladan, taken by surprise, caught the locket and gently embraced it against his palm. Upon raising his eyes from his hand, Birgitta had left. She walked hastily towards a horse carriage in the mist ahead. Vladan lowered his leer back to the small locket in his hand. Secured by the tiniest of locks, it snapped open with ease, revealing a daguerreotype of a girl no older than 15 years of age.

Her hair was dark brown, her eyebrows strong and her gaze steadfast. Her face carried familiar features, very familiar indeed. His eyes. Her nose. Definitely her bone structure, apart from the girl's jaw. His jaw.
- It couldn't be..., Vladan whispered.
Distant echos reached Vladan, who remained silent and frozen still at the grave.
- Is everything okay? Was that someone you knew?
- Just a familiar face from the past, that's all.

Find your way, my brave darklands' son

Wizards, kings, elves and trolls

Thank you, angels

I am now reborn

(Rhapsody of Fire - Son of Pain)

IntPiPoMo 2012: Operation: Shieldwall

The goal of IntPiPoMo is to post 50 screenshots in 30 days. Learn more about it as introduced on Revive & Rejuvenate, with a list of the participants.

It was time for patch 5.1 to hit, indeed, and I'm personally enjoying it a lot. The new series of quests, both daily and regular, reminded me a lot of Warcraft III. Establish a base, get mortar teams, visit the dwarven camp! Many of the quest names are references to Queen and Guns N' Roses songs - why this is, I have no idea!

40/50

Something old, something new

I hate explaining why I haven't updated in a while! They all sound like excuses for blog boredom, which they certainly aren't. I love the blog, but I've been horribly busy with my studies. I only have one exam to go this week, but a long work task waiting. Hrmph. Nica's valor cap for the week stood at an impressive 150/1000 - surprisingly I'm still one of the best geared people in the guild, with an item level of 471. Pure laziness does pay off, it seems.

This one goes for alts. I'm a real sucker for them and I have too many. Or maybe I've just simply had too much time. I'd like to introduce an older alt, who I was suddenly inspired to play again, and a new soul that's just joined the pack.

I don't need any knights, I don't need any engines of war
I will unleash all my spells, devastating your enemies' walls
But my help isn't free, you made a pact with darkness
Now I want what I need; your astral energy you will give
Don't be afraid; I will never take your soul
Now you are saved but your lifetime will be shorter

(Magic Kingdom - Evil Magician)

Sometimes during the later part of Cataclysm I created a warlock, whom I leveled up to 41 together with Lan's gnome mage. He is known as Sorley Harding, the Harvester, and it's fair to say that I've roleplayed his felhound Bruunam way more than him. He fascinates me, though. At some point I even considered deleting him, because I had absolutely no interest in leveling him. He was spared, because I was too fond of Bruunam. Although I don't hate leveling - and I've never hated it, in fact it's quite nice -, it was cool to "start" at 41 for a change.
Sorley's return must've got his demonic friend Kalna all dizzy, because her summoning disorientation was to last 15 days - along with her invisibility; I'm not sure what that refers to.

Bweath of the Dwago--!

Now, ladies and gentlemen, I present you with my ever so slightly monkish experiment, Jester Dragomirov. It's been noted around the guild that I've sort of made Russian-influenced names my "thing." As much as I'd like to talk about history here, I think it's better left out and just say that I like how they sound, so sexy and brutal! Oh, I might've said too much already.
Shortly put, he's a brewmaster monk that I am currently leveling mostly through quests to get comfortable with the rotation, then I'll hop into a few dungeons. Comrades, have your eyes and ears at the ready, for more in-character information about Jester is coming up in the future. I intend to really experiment with him.

Some time ago I also got Vlad to 90 and since then have geared up his blood spec before frost, although I think I'm supposed to be DPSing in raids! To tell you the truth, though, I'm not liking frost as much as I did in Cataclysm. The new 87 ability, Soul Reaper, feels extremely dull and lame. I tried using it while questing, and hardly had time to pull another mob until the effect had already fallen off. Losing a frost rune (cost varies by spec: blood for blood [rawr!], frost for frost, unholy for unholy) every now and then isn't such a big deal, I know, but still. My dislike for it isn't a surprise, though, because I'm generally not too fussed about execution abilties. Hammer of Wrath is a minor exception, though, I'm not sure why.
Blood, on the other hand... To me blood was extremely enjoyable in Cataclysm, but in Mists it's bloody (...yes) perfect! As blood, Soul Reaper is hardly essential, which adds to its niceness.

My real life alter ego, one that I created over a decade ago, likes to listen to Eros Ramazzotti and knows all the lyrics of the album Stilelibero despite never having studied Italian (yet! Rhapsody speak, I will learn you!).

The Battle for Theramore

I've been really busy recently and only got to do the Theramore event the evening of the day it came out in Europe. Here are some screenshots of my first visit there, on the Alliance side of course, since I don't have a single level 85 Horde character, my highest one being level 80 since Wrath of the Lich King.

We started out as three DPS, but Kidney decided to go bear and the pugged paladin went holy. I have done the scenario a whole of three times now, and the only non-regular firework reward (excluding the tabard) that I've got is Everlasting Alliance Firework. I don't mind having it, actually, but I'd like some of the items for transmogging reasons - although I think they share models with some vanilla items that might still be in the game, I haven't really looked into that. I personally like the tabard, although a more epic and unique pre-expansion event would have been nice. But as Blizzard said, we'd rather have an epic expansion rather than an epic event before it. The question is whether we must choose between those.

And for nostalgic reasons... /sob

The Story of Vlad: Chapter V, The Return to New Avalon

Chapter I, The Assault
Chapter II, He who resists
Chapter III, Rotten to the core
Chapter IV, The Resurrection

Booyah! Last time I posted a chapter of this was in June. I realise that was long ago, but I really needed a creative break. It's my goal to finish this story before Pandaria lauches, and I intend to write one more chapter. And as there is now a general disclaimer on the bottom of the site, I won't be putting them on each individual story post.
Writing soundtrack: Rhapsody - Power of Thy Sword, The 69 Eyes - Wasting the Dawn

A being of darkness stood on the balcony, quietly staring into the fields of Havenshire below. Upon Vladan's arrival the figure turned to look at the death knight over his shoulder. From the shadow of his helmet, his eyes pierced those of Vlad's, for they were the coldest he had seen, ones with no pity or remorse. And as the figure gazed towards Vladan like death itself, something coursed through his body. The sudden unholy wave was unstoppable. Whispering of chaos and perdition, it silenced the last cries for help within Vladan; those driven by hope and dreams. He was cleansed of humanity.

. . .

As restlessly as he walked, he seemed focused. He was seemingly human, yet the height of an elf. A set of reins were sealed in his right fist guarded by a rugged leather glove. Muttering angrily, the man ignored Vladan arriving at the scene.
- A waste! Waste of flesh and bone!
Vlad took a few steps closer towards the man, who noted his presence with a sour, almost disgusted stare.
- Who the hell are you?!
- Vladan Jel-
- I don't even care! You're the only creature here with a brain not entirely rotten! And that is the best I've got.
He rapidly turned away from Vlad, swinging his arms irritatedly.
- There's a whole battalion of Scourge ready to rip the living to shreds, yet Mograine is telling me to wait! I'm not waiting for anyone anymore! We have to make our final move, with or without him. That's where you come in.
The tall man turned towards Vlad.
- The Crusade was able to take out one of the commanders just before they were to charge in. Why? Because he was stupid! Stupid as a molded ghoul. You don't seem much smarter, but at least you're alive... more so than he is now. You will take his place.
The man's lips rose to a mild smile. Vladan watched him walk up to a horse, a fairly small deathcharger that was tied loosely to a booth with a chain. As the man approached the horse, it flinched and took a step back, making the chain clang loudly.
- Perhaps you and this runt will benefit from one another.
Saga, it said on the rusted tag hanging from the horse's reins. The animal was gaunt. Judging by the looks of it, it would have probably ended up dead soon even without the Scourge's help. Vladan eyed the horse, and the horse eyed him back. With careful motions he moved closer to it, step by step as the equine kept a constant eye on him. He saddled the horse just as carefully, finally untieing the reins from the booth.
- The King's Harbor. Bloodbath, the tall man hinted. - See that hill in the distance? They're waiting for you behind it.
Vladan nodded at the man, who nodded back at him with a smile rather twisted. The death knight mounted his newly found steed that instinctively took off towards the town of Havenshire, as if escaping together with the knight.

. . .

- Kill me. Please, kill me!
Leaning against the burnt tree was a man, a Scarlet soldier. His tabard and armour were covered in blood, both dried and fresh. With knees twisted like his it was sure he wasn't going to walk again. His right arm appeared to have been vigorously torn off; it was nearly detached. His eye of the same side was missing with only a bleeding hole left, leaving most of his face red with blood.
- You've killed my family, my friends, my faith and my dignity. Now do me a final favour and put an end to my suffering.
After a moment of silence Vladan dismounted at the man's feet. His eyes remained glued to the reins he held loosely on his palm, fiddling them between his fingers.
- You're a fool to ask for salvation. Can't you see that your fate is sealed? We will all serve him in the end.
- Just bloody do it, you son of a demon!
- Very well! I will free your body of the pain... But your soul will never be free.

Vladan took a firm grip from the man's shoulder and raised his runeblade in the air. The dying Scarlet soldier let out a final cry of agony as the glowing sword cut through his chest, colouring the death knight's armour with droplets of blood.

Vladan examined the body from a distance. Eyeing it up and down, the look in his eyes suddenly became what was once grim to him, now determined. He felt the life energy escape the dead man's body and siphoned it with a touch. Harnessing the energy for his own use, he gave the deceased soldier a focused gaze. As the death knight placed his palms close to the body, slowly moving them upwards, the bones, cartilage and remnants of flesh slowly began to take a shape of their own.

Finally, a creature of somewhat human features arose, leaving behind a bloody pile of decaying flesh. Vladan's eyes glimmered with what was nearly impossible to identify. Whether it was pride, pity or disappointment was even unsure to him. Nevertheless, he turned towards the deathcharger that still faithfully stood beside him. Touching the horse's neck gently, he whispered something to the majestic animal plagued by undeath. Soon after he rose to the saddle, signaling the cursed horse to move onward with a soft jab of spur.

. . .

A number of deathchargers stood in a line with death knights on their backs. Before the Scourge cavalry another ambassador of darkness slowly rode back and forth, yelling to the mounted men.

- Tear them to pieces, burn them to cinder! Ensure that no one rises from the ashes.

Upon dawning the Scourge armies marched upon New Avalon. Undead masses filled the roads. Household after household the town was purged of life. With each clattering step tearing the remains of humanity to pieces, New Avalon transformed into a ghost town. Under the orders of the former prince, the once peaceful residence succumbed into what Lordaeron had become in a matter of days, a kingdom of dust.

The final warning was given as the clash of metallic hooves slamming against the paving echoed through the grove. Countless huffing horses carried heavily armoured men down the pathway leading to the King's Harbor. The steeds were armoured similarly to the riders, with horns attached to their heads and saronite guarding their bodies. As the winding road finally exposed them to the civilian crowd, panic took over the atmosphere. Vladan charged in, his runeblade tearing bodies, throats and limbs apart, leaving behind only troubled cries of agony. Those attempting to escape were slain before they could even reach the waterline. The blood of innocents mixed with the blood of sinners on the metallic surface, as countless civilians fell to the unforgiving runeblade in the baptism of blood.

Mere moments later silence descended upon the King's Harbor. On the ground lay bodies of men, women and children with their flesh cut like paper, their entrails exposed in the open wounds. With only the sound of hooves and a silent clash of metal from swords rubbing against armour breaking the silence, Vladan dismounted. He held tight to the reins of his steed as he slowly walked towards the bushes, peering around as if he were the hunted. He approached the small trees carefully and moved the leaves aside with deliberate motions. He raised his sword to rest on his shoulder for a moment before striking.
- I draw nigh to thee with a contrire and humble heart...
The words paralysed Vladan. He let the runed blade fall down from his shoulder, loosening his grip on it.
- ...to thee I recommend the last hour of my life, and that judgment which awaits me afterwards...
Silently looking at the kneeled woman, who hadn't yet given a gaze to Vladan, he lowered himself down to bended knee.
- Oh Holy Light...
She turned her muddy face towards Vladan. With eyes expressing readiness she peered at the armoured man. Vladan slowly raised his hands, carefully choosing each move to look as unthreatening as possible, and removed his helmet.
- Vladan..., she whispered nearly voicelessly, turning fully towards him. Embracing his face with her hands, she was in a shocked state. - What... what have they done to you?
- What they've done to me is insignificant. What I've done, can't be undone. This bloodshed was only the beginning.
- But you can stop this madness!
- I don't expect you to understand, but you must do as I tell you. Listen to me, Isa... There isn't much time. Go south; go south and I will lead them west, to Tyr's Hand and Light's Hope. Seek out Aerie Peak, they will provide you with shelter.
Finally she broke into tears. Hissing in panic, she grabbed onto his arms:
- You will not leave me again!
- Do as I tell you! Trust me, Isa, as I promise we will meet again. Now go and do not look back.

- What's going on there? a piercing voice requested an answer.
The question reached far from the docks. An elven death knight, along with two other Scourge soldiers, rode towards Vlad, who stood up. Their curious eyes soon found their way from Vladan to Isa, who Vladan covered by placing his runeblade between her and the death knights.
- Commander Jelen has found a survivor, I see. You do have the potential to be at least half of what the elder Aldenkamp was, isn't that right?
- Soldiers of the Scourge, I command you to abort the mission!
The command received the attention of the death knights at the harbor. The undead high elven soldier stared at Vlad in disbelief, soon bursting into laughter. Inspiring one another, the death knights showed their disrespect towards the man in the lead.
- Did the living smack you upside the head, or what?
- By my right of quorum, I order you to leave this place at once! Turn your backs to New Avalon, Havenshire and Acherus, and never return.
- Have you lost your mind?! the elf with a long, silvery hair took steps towards Vladan and stopped inches away from him. - You seek to undo the master's work, and for what? For this wench?
The elf knight rapidly pointed his sword towards Isa, which caused Vladan to instinctively step on the way.
- Don't you realise that we're only tools in the hands of the Lich King? He's sent us here to kill these people, but he doesn't care whether we die with them or not! I don't even want to look at the death and destruction we've caused, with nothing to fight for.
- In that case I offer you quick relief.
He took a swing at Vlad with his sword. The sharp tip shredded its way through his left eye, leaving a deep blade marking that momentarily coloured half of his vision red. Vladan swayed back and let go of Saga's reins. Holding his palm against the wounded eye, he sealed the hilt of his runeblade within the fist of his right hand.
- Feeling better already, commander?
The elf swung his sword at him again, this time aiming for the right side, but found his blade slamming against another. With resistance, Vladan pushed the elf's sword back. Upon what seemed like defeat, the silvery-haired death knight calmly stated his taunt.
- Has one man ever beaten a dozen?
Death knights worth a small battalion gathered around the elven man with their swords at the ready. With a simple nod from the elf, they unleashed their fury upon Vladan. As runeblades clashed against one another, Vladan fell easily before the predominance, hitting the ground with his saronite armour.
Laying on the cold sand of the shore, all he could spot were dark silhouettes standing out against the different shades of grey.
- Vladan Jelen, your death wish will be fulfilled.
The silvery-haired elf placed his other foot on top of the Scourge commander's conquered body and held a bloodied runeblade above his head. Dripping blood - his own blood - coloured Vladan's forehead. The elven death knight took a firm grip of the hilt with both hands and raised the sword.

- NO!

. . .

Within the ruins, a breath of wind sprung from the cellar. It made its way through the keyhole and into the house, blowing the curtains to cover the broken window. Moving effortlessly on the table and past the bookshelf, it settled in the broken cradle lying next to a burnt bed.
A bloody red morning dawned for the day, which was to some the longest they had ever lived. There, in the heart of silence, a life begun and a life ended. It was the cradle for the tortured souls to be rocked in for all eternity; in the shadow of the jailor of the damned.

How a maid could look the way she did, he never understood. To him her bright blue eyes were the brightest in the world, shining with a glint of hope during the darkest hours. Their infinite blue ocean would put out the flames of hell, soothe the charred land for a new beginning. Cleanse its wounds and lull it to the sweetest dreams.
And her hair, it was soft as silk. Fair as a foggy sunrise, the flaxen braid could have born the weight of a kingdom's sorrow. Golden silk, from root to tip.

Now lying in his arms, her bruised face against his chest, violated and abused, the ocean had bled dry. Cold and lifeless, her dress torn apart, she was but a shadow in the sunrise.

And as her sun set, he laid her to rest.

Remember Theramore

I'm sure that by now we all know what's going to happen to Theramore Isle. Therefore there is no spoiler warning in this post, since it would only be spoiled for a very short time anyhow. I just wanted to post some screenshots of the town, just to have a personal memory of it in the blog. Lanfranco and I went to say goodbye to Theramore together, so he appears in some shots.

I didn't get to experience very much Theramore RP, but the little bit that I did experience was great. I wish I could have done more of it. I'm not sure if there will ever be anything that can compare to it.

Farewell Theramore, you will always be in my heart.

And the music, I always loved it.

P.S. I love having internet as sensitive as mine... These days I upload screenshots to Photobucket to save disc space. The internet is fast and fairly good normally, but when I begin to upload, my latency jumps up to 5k and I can't do anything on WoW. It's not something that really disturbs my time, but it's fairly silly considering I live in a technology super country! Ah well, my time will come I suppose, when I move out of this small town.

P.P.S. I am now getting to know the new Toyota GT86, because clicking the link was the only way I could silence the ad quickly.

P.P.P.S. My latency is now 14.5k!

The Story of Vlad: Chapter IV, The Resurrection

Chapter I, The Assault
Chapter II, He who resists
Chapter III, Rotten to the core

Okay, warning! Includes descriptive content of weird things. If you're very sensitive to that, please don't proceed.
So I know I don't sound native. I'm not. I don't have to. What matters is I enjoy this story and I want to tell it.
I listened to Assault on New Avalon, Luca Turilli - Prophet of the Last Eclipse, Demonheart while writing this.

Disclaimer: I do not own the World of Warcraft, Azeroth or anything in it, but it was me and not Blizzard that came up with the story of this character, whom I have created to breathe life into their world.

He felt incredible pressure around his chest, as if his heart was squeezed really tight and then released. Squeezed and released, squeezed and released again, like it was blackmailed to start beating. A foul stench invaded his consciousness, stinging his nose and forcefully awakening him from the slumber. The pain he had just felt around his chest was gone. As he opened his eyes, a freshly bloodied meat wagon lay next to him, welcoming him to Acherus, the Ebon Hold.

- Get up, maggot! We cannot lose more time!
Vladan troublesomely pushed his other cheek against the chilly stone floor. A short-haired man in blue armour stood straight before him. He carried massive armour on his wide shoulders; his face had strange markings on it. The man pointed at Vlad with a glowing sword.
- Put your rotting bones together! Why haven't you got up on your feet yet?! the man kept yelling.
Vlad managed to drag himself up against the wall. He stood feebly before the grim figure known as Instructor Razuvious.
- Take this blade and choke on it, if you will, I need no aimless cowards on my way, Razuvious threw the blade on the floor before him. - Stop by the armour racks and report to the Master!
The weak man wandered over to what seemed like a combination of an anvil and a furnace, and picked up pieces of dark armour leaning against it. The saronite plates felt strangely fitting against his flesh. A cold embrace surrounded him as he felt drawn towards the terrace.

All that I am: anger, cruelty, vengeance - I bestow upon you, my chosen knight.

As Vladan trudged towards the balcony, an image of Isa holding Milka in her arms formed on his mind. Isa sat at the dining table. Her smile was as warm as the sun as she watched over the newly born baby girl. She crouched to reach out for the hem of her white dress, a wedding gown, and squished it in her fist.

...a blemish upon these Plaguelands.

Starting from her wrists, her skin slowly began to burn. It burned up her arms, her shoulders, her chest and neck - until it finally reached her face. As if the skin was peeled off, the bones and tissue of her face were exposed, quickly rotting into unrecognisable features.

Where you tread, doom will follow.

Isa suddenly raised her leer from the floor. She stared emptily through whatever was in front of her, and slowly stood up. With each step forward, she collapsed lower towards the ground, and as the last breath of air coursed through her, she turned to cinder.

Go now and claim your destiny, death knight.

 . . .

Isa leaned against a tree, a cotton blanket wrapped tightly around her. A few Scarlet soldiers and a share of civilians remained in the sleepy shore. High General Abbendis, along with Landgren, had climbed aboard a departing ship a moment ago. It had sailed away soon after. Abbendis' words still echoed within Isa's mind. The Scarlet Crusade is no more. Long live the Scarlet Onslaught!

Father Patrick Newbury mumbled to himself in the misty morning. He appeared drunken. The old man sat on a heavy, wooden box, looking towards the windy path leading up to the orchard, and eventually the Chapel of the Crimson Flame. Isa leaned towards the disoriented priest.
- Father, is everything alright? she reached out, placing her palm against the man's shoulder. - Are you planning to take the next ship?
Father Newbury let out a cough mixed with ironic laughter.
- The chapel is cursed with their taint now. The sacred ground around it will be devoured by the plague as we are devoured by the ground, each one of us at our own time. Ashes to ashes. Dust-... to dust.
- What? the tone of Isa's voice rang with disbelief. - They... they have taken the chapel?
Newbury's sorrowful eyes closed as he took a deep breath.
- They have taken all but us.
- But we... we still have time to get on the next ship. We'll make it to Northrend, the vessel will be here any minute.
- Listen, girl, Newbury chuckled carelessly. - No ships are coming back. We are only headed to our doom.

. . .

Casey Morgan's grim stare reached the horizon from the stern of the Scarlet vessel. The man shook in his boots, desperately trying to rub his arms for warmth.
- What've we got ourselves into? What kind of a genius mind decides to sail to the roof of the world? This chill here, I tell you, is the herald of our doom.
- Save your breath, Captain Danell's sharp words cut Morgan off. - You're not the only one whose blood is freezing in here.
- Excuse me, captain. I didn't think your hazy mind had taken note of it.
- I swear your tongue will be the end of you.
Morgan corrected his posture into a more pompous one, standing right in front of Captain Danell.
- The same tongue your wife thought so highly of.
Danell's eyes blurred as if the light in them was turned out. He spoke in a low, callous tone.
- Mary passed away last year, you know that.
- I'm well aware. Have you heard of the shirt she hid under your bed one time just as you came home? That time she was out of breath and claimed she had carried something heavy. That time you had to leave soon after, and she told you to take your time. What was she dressed in again? A white dress, yes, the one with a mild scent of roses to it.
- To hell with you, Morgan!
Before he had time to think, Danell found his palms placed steadily against Morgan's chest, giving him a hefty push towards the sea. Morgan lost his balance, first leaning far back against the bulwark and soon after swaying over the edge. With a troubled cry, he fell into the icy water. In a matter of seconds, the Scarlet commander disappeared into the murky waters of the Frozen Sea.
Stanley Danell swallowed visibly. He looked confused as he leaned against the bulwark and stared into the ocean with wide eyes. Without moving his gaze, he spoke to the crew that remained silent as they peered at the captain.
- Deckhand, he began assertively. - Prepare the anchors. We're approaching the shore.
- Right away, sir.

The Story of Vlad: Chapter III, Rotten to the Core

Chapter I, The Assault
Chapter II, He who resists

Silence had fallen upon New Avalon. The fight had ceased, but it was only a matter of time when another attack would be launched. Vladan made his way to the Scarlet hold. It was likely Brigitte Abbendis was there. If she wasn't already aware of Quimby's death, she would soon be.

The hold stood proudly on a hill. Normally it was strictly guarded. Not only by a couple of guards, but multiple in each section of the fort. This time the building was empty and quiet, almost sleepy in nature. The old, wooden stairway creaked under each step the man took. As he approached the main room, he cleared his throat. Ready to meet with the Scarlet leaders and Birgitta's family, he knocked on the door frame and entered the chamber as he spoke.
- High General Abbendis, I wish to inform you that Mayor Quimby has b-
As the warrior raised his leer from the floor, he clammed up abruptly.
- So the wretched pest succeeded? What a pity. My hunger to break those brittle bones grows every minute.
The deep voice echoed hollow. Its source was guarded by black armour, seemingly made of saronite. Long silvery hair descended softly on the shoulder plates. Light blue glowing eyes had an ironic glimmer in them. A set of thin fingers found their places around the hilt of a long runeblade.
The death knight rose from the chair he sat on and slowly walked up to Vladan.
- You see, not everyone makes a death knight. Initiates are so feeble. It is almost a waste of time to resurrect them at all.
- Where's Abbendis? What have you done to my daughter?! You sick beast!
Vladan raised his sword at the death knight, but couldn't hold on to it. As the death knight pointed the palm of his hand towards Vlad's throat, he felt unable to breathe. His grip of the sword loosened, causing it to slip out of his hand and fall to the planking. He made an attempt to squirm out of the scourge knight's grasp, but the power was insuperable. He felt pushed against the wall, until the death knight finally lowered his arm.
Vladan collapsed on the floor. His head pounded and his vision was blurry. He could hear his heart beat, but it appeared much slower than normally.
- Your daughter? YOUR DAUGHTER?! Worry not, you'll meet her soon enough!
The runeblade pierced Vladan's chest. It struck him like a cold embrace, devouring his life energy, more with each sip. The sound of his heart beating, as well as the death knight's voice, faded away.
- For a brief moment..., the knight in black armour pulled the blade out of the body, turning towards two other death knights that had arrived at the scene without notice. - Take the corpses to Acherus. There's work to be done.

. . .

Isa Jelen held her hood at the windy docks and looked at a departing ship. It was the first ship to have accepted civilians aboard. It would make its way to Northrend, as would a few other vessels.
- Isa! Isa, is it you?
Isa looked surprised as she turned around. Birgitta Barrett jogged happily towards her. She held a bundle on her arms.
- Birgitta!
- I believe I have something you've been missing, Birgitta smiled widely, handing the bundle over to Isa.
Isa uttered a silent moan as she unwrapped the cloth cocoon. She lovingly embraced the baby girl, seeming peaceful at long last. Nathaniel Barrett walked up to the two women, holding the hands of two children. Ethan and Noah were Nathaniel and Birgitta's sons.
- They assaulted from within, Birgitta told Isa, who had begun to breastfeed her daughter.
Isa looked at Birgitta with wide eyes as she informed her about the situation.
- How did they manage to do that?
- Obscure, don't you think? Their death knights had snuck into the town hall and killed Mayor Quimby. They've taken the town hall and the orchard. I haven't heard any news from the chapel.
Birgitta groomed her long mahogany hair. She was nearly a decade older than Isa, but always looked amazingly refreshed. She claimed the energy of her children to keep her youthful. Noah and Ethan sat on a log next to Nathaniel. The boys were dressed in white shirts, dark grey vests and lighter grey cotton pants, very similar to their father's outfit.
- And the hold? How is the hold? Isa stuttered.
- Same as always, I suppose.
Birgitta's reply was negligent. Nevertheless, it mildly relieved Isa's worry over her husband. She remained tense as Birgitta spoke.
- Where is Vladan, anyway?
- He went... to look for you. For Milka.
Isa looked down to their sleepy daughter. Milka Ekaterina was only a few months old.
- Missus Jelen, there are still soldiers up there. He's probably helping with the ballistas. He'll return when they're set up, Nathaniel joined the conversation. Isa let out a saddened sigh.
- Come on, I can't stand seeing you like that, Birgitta comforted her. - Think of the new life you'll get up north. Everything will be fine. Milka can grow up in a land of peace and the two of you can grow old together.
The thought Birgitta forged on Isa's mind put a minor smile on her face.

A foghorn stemmed from the distance. Everyone in the shore took notice of it. Not only did it bring a breeze of hope, but also competition. People wanted to get out of New Avalon as soon as possible. They wanted to feel safe again.
As the ship slowly floated closer to the docks, a bunch of people gathered to wait for it. The anchor was thrown into the water. A man with a long, thin scarf jumped off the vessel. He waded to the shore and tied a rope to a sturdy wooden pillar, then walked up to another pillar. A bulky man on the ship threw another rope to him, which he tied to the second pillar, just like the first one. Three Scarlet soldiers disembarked from the ship, carrying heavy two-handed swords. They settled on both sides of the ramp. A Scarlet captain walked down the plank. With his greying beard and bushy mustache, he appeared to be in his 50s. He cleared his throat while holding a piece of paper before his eyes.
- Citizens of New Avalon! With the right I have been granted, I shall now list the families that are entitled on the next voyage. When you hear your name, please gather your children and spouse, and report to me.
The crowd awaited silent as more people gathered around the red and white captain.
- Abbey. Abbendis? Damn it, where's the high general?
- Captain Danell, a feminine voice requested from aboard. - Captain Danell?
Scarlet Captain Stanley Danell turned towards the source of the voice.
- High General Abbendis said she'd take another ship. According to High Abbot Landgren, there's something they need to take care of in Tyr's Hand.
Danell groaned his reply to the woman before continuing the roll call.
- Barklay.
An old man dressed in a rugged suit held the hand of a woman of the same age, walking her before Danell. The captain had a brief word with the couple before allowing them on the ship.
- Clay.
A young woman, barely in her 20s, escorted two cranky children up the ramp.
- Hudnall. Kipling. Perry.
As the roll call went on, families of very different kinds stepped aboard, one after another. Isa peered at the passing people. Some of them she knew, or at least had known. As their family names were called, they didn't look back. Birgitta cursed their arrogance.
- I hope that damn ship sinks, she hissed.
- Wilcox.
Henry Wilcox, a retired Scarlet guard stood up and straightened his back. He picked up his satchel and walked up to captain Danell. As Danell moved over to let him enter the ship, a sword suddenly blocked Wilcox's way. He looked at the wielder with a questioning look, which transformed into an incredulous one as he caught a sight of the armed person.
- I think you misread that, a conceited male voice blurted at Danell.
- Cut it out, commander, Danell ordered immediately. - If I require your assistance, I'll make sure to request it.
Casey Morgan peered down to Henry Wilcox with narrowed eyes.
- Do you happen to remember the time I promised you'd regret what you did to me? Our journey to Northrend appears most... promising... Cox-ie.
- Mind your own business, will you! Danell yelled at Morgan, who receded grudgingly, glaring angrily at Wilcox. - We need to set forth as soon as possible. This is a waste of time.
Danell looked at the crowd as if he had forgotten all about the piece of paper in his hand. He rapidly turned his gaze back to it.
- Barrett.
- Did you hear that, Nathaniel? Birgitta screamed joyfully. -We've been selected!
Nathaniel remained calm and silent, merely looking at his wife. He stood up and picked up a backpack that lay against the log.
- I guess we had better get going then.
- We had! Come, boys, come on here, Birgitta rushed her sons, then turned to Isa. - Dear friend. We'll be waiting for you.
The two women shared a hug. Hesitatingly Isa began to speak.
- Birgitta. I'm going to ask you a big favor.
Birgitta tilted her head slightly, looking at Isa awaitingly.
- I'm going to wait for Vlad. I need to wait for Vlad. Even if our name was called, I couldn't leave without him. Please, please take-, she swallowed, still hesitating. - Take Milka with you.
She wasn't sad. She was sending her daughter to safety. She gave Milka a longing gaze before gently handing the bundled baby over to Birgitta, who carefully held her on her arms. Birgitta smiled warmly at Isa.
- She will be safe with us.
Relief glittered in Isa's eyes as they got damp.
- Barrett!
- Coming! Birgitta made a fast turn towards the captain.
Isa smiled her immense thanks at her friend as she peered over her shoulder, then climbed aboard.
- Morgan. Ruskin.
Captain Danell tucked the piece of paper into a rugged fanny pack hanging on his waist, giving the crowd a last look before nodding at the soldiers next to him. He walked up the plank as the soldiers loosened the ropes before entering the ship and pulling the ramp up.
The ship slowly set forth with a bunch of civilians aboard. They looked scared and fragile as the ship departed the King's Harbor. Isa stood at the docks for long after the vessel had disappeared from sight, just staring into the vast horizon.

Disclaimer: I do not own the World of Warcraft, Azeroth or anything in it, but it was me and not Blizzard that came up with the story of this character, whom I have created to breathe life into their world.

The Story of Vlad: Chapter II, He Who Resists

Chapter I, The Assault

I think I failed at not making some scenes sound like Titanic. Recognise the Lovejoy character...?
Soundtrack: Rhapsody - The Magic of the Wizard's Dream

Disclaimer: I do not own the World of Warcraft, Azeroth or anything in it, but it was me and not Blizzard that came up with the story of this character, whom I have created to breathe life into their world.

The town square was filled with scourge and Scarlet armies. Vladan weaved his way through the crowd as quickly as he could, heading towards the King's Harbor in the heavy rain. The path was stuffed with tons of civilians desperate to get away from the hazard. Panic dominated the atmosphere all the way down to the harbor, where people were running to all directions. A large group of civilians was swarming near the ship, where soldiers dressed in red and white had blocked the brow. Some individuals made a desperate attempt to enter the ship regardless of the armed men, who didn't hesitate to use their steel against any who rebelled against their authority.

Vladan desperately tried to spot Isa within the panicking crowd. To him every other face looked like hers. He yelled her name a few times, but his yells succumbed into those of the crowd. He kept calling for her name, and after a moment he heard a distant cry.
- Vlad!
- Isa? Vlad turned around immediately and began to make his way to Isa within the pushing crowd. Isa, although getting pushed around vigorously, also moved closer to Vlad as fast as she could.
As they met, he immediately wrapped his arms around her, for both protection and warmth. She pushed herself against his chest and caught her breath. Her face was pale and her long, fair hair soaking wet, even under the dark grey cloth hood she was wearing. They spoke to each other loudly in the clamor.
- Is Milka okay?
- I... I don't know. Birgitta had already left when I...
Vladan peered around nervously as the worry over his daughter filled his mind. The fact that he knew Birgitta would do anything for the sake of children, even if they weren't her own, made the worry slightly lighter. Still, that day no one was safe in New Avalon. There were no guarantees of anything.
- Do you have any idea where she might be?
- Birgitta? She, uhm... I think Nathaniel was in the Scarlet hold today. If the undead haven't reached the hold yet..., Isa filled her lungs with air. - They could all be there.

Vlad held Isa by her shoulders in front of him, looking straight into her eyes.
- Stay here. The scourge will be busy with the administrative buildings for quite some time. It'll take them a while to get down here.
Isa didn't say anything. In the rain it was nearly impossible to tell if she was crying, but in her eyes there was a glimmer of both desperation and hope.
- Go near the soldiers and stay there, Vladan instructed and held her tight for a short moment. - Everything will be okay, I will find Milka. Go!
Submissively but reluctantly Isa followed Vlad's command, peering at him over her shoulder as she pushed through the crowd. Vladan looked at her longingly for a moment before leaving the shore.

. . .

Scarlet blood covered the ground in the town square of New Avalon. Many had fallen under the force of the scourge, but the remaining soldiers kept fighting. Most of the undead forces had been vanquished, with a few abominations, ghouls and geists remaining. Vladan pulled his swords out of their sheaths simultaneously. He charged at a ghoul, which fell at his feet after a few slices.

A shielded man on a white, armoured horse fought a few feet away from Vladan. The paladin was surrounded by ghouls. The undead fell under his blade, one after another. As the last one of them collapsed, the man turned to Vlad. He was exhausted and out of breath. His armour was blood stained and his face bled badly.
- Soldier, he huffed. - Go to the town hall. We... what's left of us... will push the scourge back to Havenshire. Havenshire's done for. We can still buy us some more time.
The paladin looked towards the rampart and sighed.
- They haven't reached the hold yet.
The knight's words seemed true. No guards stood at the hold entrance like usually, but otherwise it seemed untouched by the scourge. Vladan nodded at the man, who soon after rode away towards the rampart. He stopped for a moment to lay his hand on a wounded soldier's shoulder, casting a minor healing spell. Relieved by the news about the Scarlet hold, Vladan gave it a brief glance before he left for the town hall.

An abomination stood at the town hall. Corpses of two Scarlet guards lay next to the undead monstrosity. As Vladan prepared to charge at it, something tightened around his waist. It was a scourge hook, a device clumsy scourge creations used to bring faster and more agile enemies to their reach. The undead pulled the hooked chain back to itself. As Vladan slammed against the abomination's body, acid spurted out of the stitches on its sides.

The vile undead squeezed Vlad between its hands. It drooled heavily as the human hung upside down in front of it. Vlad's sword fell out of its sheath and hit the ground. He managed to grab the other one of his blades and stuck it through the abomination. The slice caused green liquid to start dripping from the undead's stomach.

- Your end has come, sacrilegious beast!
The flesh monstrosity growled in a strange manner as something entered its body. What looked like a wave of light made the undead squirm for a moment before collapsing on its back. It let go of Vlad, who fell to the ground. As he picked up his sword and raised his leer from the paving, he saw father Newbury, a priest of the local chapel, point the scourge cadaver with his staff. The white cane had a golden glow surrounding it.
- In the name of the Chapel of the Crimson Flame, I swear I'll purge this land of these foul creatures!

Vladan carefully opened the heavy door of the town hall. The floor creaked as the warrior took steps towards the main room. Without a source of light other than the curtained windows, the chamber was gloomy. He spotted a figure resting on the floor near the stand. As he reached the corpse, he kneeled next to it, rolling the bulky man around.
- Quimby?
Mayor Quimby was dead. A sharp weapon had cut through his chest, with multiple other scratches on his arms and neck.
- Abbendis should be informed about this, Vladan pondered to himself. Quimby's death was no doubt a major step towards the fall of New Avalon.

. . .

Isa wrapped the grey cotton robe tightly around her. The rain had ceased. The area was left cold and foggy, the noisy crowd had fallen silent for the day. They all wanted to ask the same things. "When will there be space for us?" "Is there anywhere we can go for shelter?" Yet no one asked those questions, because they knew no answers would be provided.

A man in a dark leather jerkin stood up and walked up to the Scarlet guards. The silent soldiers eyed the peasant up and down as he took a breath before starting to speak.
- You, he began hostilely. - You won't get us on any ship, will you? You're just keeping us waiting here 'till we starve to death and then use our corpses as distraction in order to escape the scourge yourself.
As the guards showed no signs of sympathy, he continued.
- Your Light will not save you sons of a bitch when you meet your end. We all got to face judgement one day, and you... You're all going to HELL! You sanctimonious bastards! You hear me! All of you, you're going to h-
The man collapsed to his knees, quietening abruptly as a rifle was fired. A series of screams followed the raw gunshot. A woman dressed in a simple gown rushed to the man lying at the guards' feet, almost throwing herself to the ground next to him.
- Raghnall! Raghnall, please, get up! she cried out, crouched next to him. She stroked his cheek and talked to him in loud whispers mixed with her labored breath. Her hands got stained in blood as she tried to stop the blood flow on his stomach.
A man walked down the ramp leading to the ship. He held a rifle on his shoulder. His steps seemed light, his attitude carefree as his rusty spurs clacked against the wood. He walked up to the mourning woman, granting her a fast, pitiful glance. She lifted her gaze from the man on the ground and looked at the Scarlet commander.
- Does anyone else want to squawk? Rampage, perhaps? he popped a question in a cocky manner, peering around. - I have plenty of bullets left.
The fragile woman slowly stood up and stared at the commander right into his eyes, her stare bursting with pure rage and disgust.
- You... Killed my husband, she hissed deeply, her teary face just a few inches away from the commander's.
The man known as Casey Morgan looked down to the lady, his expression everything but compassionate.
- His punishment will serve as a warning to all. If anyone here wishes to live a life, and die a death more meaningful than his, they'll know to hold their horses.
The woman gave commander Morgan a vigorous push on the chest with both hands, her appearance transforming into that of a shield maiden instead of a peasant's widow. As Morgan swayed back a little, his face gave away his rising anger. He swiftly placed both of his hands on his gun and pointed it against the woman's chest.
- I take it you want to join him in wherever you riffraff end up?
She stayed quiet for a moment, just staring at him. Soon she began to speak, her calm tone of voice becoming more murderous as she went on.
- My daughter will grow up without a father. I will have to make a living for her and myself without my spouse. I have no idea if we will get to keep our home. But she will grow to despise your kind, I promise you that. She will despise you enough to never dress in your colours. You are the taint of Lordaeron. I will pray to the Light that you'll all waste away into nothingness.
She turned her gaze towards the silent crowd gathered around them, still speaking to Morgan.
- Now if you'll excuse me, I wish to give my husband an honorable burial.

The Story of Vlad: Chapter I, The Assault

This is fan fiction, my own storyline and a character introduction combined.
Soundtrack while writing: Rhapsody - Echoes of Tragedy, ACT III: The Ancient Fires of Har-Kuun, Dargor, Shadowlord of the Black Mountain (extended)
'The Wild and Wonderful Whites of West Virginia' in the background.

A pack of medium-sized ghouls ran towards him, thick saliva dripping from the sides of their mouths. He tried to make a run for it, but his legs wouldn't work, his feet seemed glued to the ground. The ghouls got closer and closer, soon reaching him. They ripped his clothes and scratched his skin as he got overwhelmed by the vigorous undead, falling down on his back. One of the ghouls pounced on top of him and stared him right into the eyes, ready to rip his face off. As the ghoul brought its rotten teeth closer to his face, droplets of cold drool landed on his face.

Vladan Jelen boggled awake with a gasp. What stood before him wasn't a ghoul, nor an undead of any sort. It was his wife with a can full of water in her grasp, reaching out for the various daffodils on the shelf above the bed. As she noticed her husband awake, she burst into a wide, warm smile.
- I'm sorry, love, the shelf is just too far.
- Isa! Vladan cried out, still out of breath. He swiftly sat up, placed his feet against the floor and sat on the edge of the bed.
Isa pulled the water can back and stood next to the bed, fumbling Vladan's thick, dark brown hair that had length way past his shoulders. She spoke in a calm tone:
- Now, what did you dream of?
- Scourge, they will come for us... Sooner than we expect.
- Nonsense, honey, we have plenty of time left to prepare, she said confidently. - Oh! Speaking of which, I have already packed some necessary items, they're all ready and set in the closet.
- I thought you didn't want to leave New Avalon, Vlad noted, questioning his wife with a raise of eyebrows.
- I just hadn't thought of all the options, she stated joyfully.
Vladan eyed her, surprised by the sudden change in her opinion; that which had been nearly the opposite just a few days ago.
- Where in the name of Faol would you go then? Back to Strahnbrad?
- No, she replied fast. - Not Strahnbrad. Northrend.
Vladan looked bemused as he stared at Isa, who had begun to wipe dust off the bedside table.
- Don't be fooled, Isa. We'll be long perished before any ship has space for us.
Isa clearly stated her disappointment in her husband's disbelief. Her pout was enough to tell Vladan she wasn't in a state of discussing the matter. He decided to change the subject:
- Where is Milka?
- Birgitta is taking care of her whilst I finish cleaning the house, Isa replied, her good mood washed away.
Vlad gave her a fast nod just before he stood up. He walked up to a heavy wooden cabinet, opened one of the drawers and took out a bunch of clothes.

. . .

The chink of steel could be heard far from the anvil. It was mixed with the chirp of birds. Those midday hours always seemed so long for Vladan. He peered to the distance on his way to the smithy. The dark and sinister Acherus hovered in the sky near Havenshire. It was the base of scourge operations in the area, sending various mindless undead and more intelligent death knights to cause disturbance in the two towns next to it. To rain destruction on their inhabitants.

Vlad knocked lightly on the door frame. A warm welcome awaited him in the workshop as he walked in.
- Oi, what's kept you away for so long? smith Blackmoore said with a smile on his face.
- Aiden, Vladan nodded at the man sitting at a massive anvil. He made his way to the worn wooden counter and leaned against it.
Smith Aiden Blackmoore was an old friend of his. The man was in his 40s, which made him around a decade older than Vlad. The bulky man had a short, greying beard and a hair that could just be tied up on a ponytail. The two blacksmiths met a while after Vladan had relocated his family from Alterac to New Avalon, a very different part of Lordaeron.
- Are you a warrior or a blacksmith, Vladan Jelen? Aiden asked with a mischievous grin. - You can't seem to make up your mind. One day I hear you've been bashing undead with two blades, and the next you visit me and my little shop. What brings you here, old friend?
- You're the one with the best sharpening stones in town. I need you to use those on these.
Vladan pulled a long, thin sword out of its sheath and lay it on the counter. He grabbed another blade from a different sheath hanging on the other side of his hip and placed it next to the other one.
- I take that as... the smith went quiet for a moment, turning his gaze to his anvil with a wide smile. - Warrior, then.
Aiden Blackmoore walked behind the counter and picked up the sharpening stones from a shelf, giving the swords a look. He took them to the anvil and began to sharpen the blades. Vladan followed each motion carefully, as if he was sharpening the weapons with his gaze. After a moment of work on each sword, Aiden handed them over to Vlad, one at a time. He examined them carefully from tip to tip before sliding them back into their sheaths.
- And hey, don't even think about a payment. You've done so much for me that it's about time I did something for you in return.
Aiden's face was serious, but his eyes smiled at his friend. Vladan smiled his thanks at the smith over his shoulder as he stepped out of the workshop.

New Avalon was silent. The birds had stopped singing; they couldn't even be spotted. Very few people were out. The atmosphere was oppressive, like the calm before the storm. A few drops of water came down from the sky, the drizzle getting heavier each passing moment.

A jangling bell tolled. As Vladan walked back home through the town, the feared sound tore the silence apart. By that time, each citizen of New Avalon and Havenshire had learnt what the sound meant. Scourge forces were approaching. This time the bell tolled in particularly short intervals, which meant the forces were great in numbers. Not a second was wasted while gathering the defense. Tons of soldiers ran out of the barracks, gathering in the town square. Soon after another militia dressed in red and white joined the rest. High general Brigitte Abbendis, a major leader of the Scarlet Crusade, stood on a wooden stand before the crowd.
- It is here we make our final stand against the scourge. It is here the Scarlet Crusade will lead the undead to their end. It is here, on this holy ground the Crusade will be victorious!
As Vladan, frozen in place, stared at the cheering crowd, a Scarlet commander rode past him, turning his horse around. The man dressed in shiny red and white armour, accompanied by a tabard of the same colours and a logo, looked at Vlad. He pointed to the warrior's direction with his sword.
- Soldier, fall in! What are you waiting for?
He almost immediately turned his horse around again and rode away, yelling to the militia.

Vladan took swift steps through the crowd. He zigzagged between the men and women that were devoted to defend New Avalon. Behind the militias he spotted a bunch of citizens running down the road to the King's Harbor. No ships were supposed to leave in weeks. Mayor Quimby had told the people a bunch of lies.

As soon as Vlad made it to his home door, he stormed in. The cottage was empty. Curtains danced wildly in the wind at an open window. He quickly checked the closet. The satchel was there, with Isa's items inside. No signs of either his wife or his daughter were present in the house. A sudden clatter of bone and steel in the already heavy rain interrupted his search. He took a couple of fast steps to the door and looked at the rampart between the town and Havenshire. The Scarlet armies ran towards the undead masses, hitting as many of them as they possibly could upon reaching the scourge.

The assault on New Avalon had begun.

Disclaimer: I do not own the World of Warcraft, Azeroth or anything in it, but it was me and not Blizzard that came up with the story of this character, whom I have created to breathe life into their world.

Blinded by the light

The time to introduce a second character has come. This time we have a ginger paladin in the spotlight. He's quite likely my most roleplayed character with the most text in his MyRolePlay profile.

His mainspec was holy all the way to level 85, but as the very power-yerning person I am (ahem!), I had to start tanking with him; so protection now serves as his more frequently used spec, despite holy having slightly better gear. The ginger was my best geared alt for a long while, until beaten by my death knight. He was the third character that I leveled to max level and he spent a moment doing arena at level 70.

Something that happened in Northrend changed Sir Raleigh Croft's thoughts of the Holy Light for good. Having spent his childhood and youth under the influence of a very religious father in the small town of Southshore, he acted more like a preacher man than a peasant.

Raleigh drifted away from Southshore to study with the Knights of the Silver Hand, but his studies were interrupted by the abrupt death of his father. Inspired by a newfound rage towards undead, he continued his studies and eventually did become a paladin. Just a couple of years later he left for Northrend, still unaware of what really caused his father to die. Unaware that he'd return as a completely different man.

Raleigh's protection transmog consists of the following items (and I'm not going to link them, because if you want to, you can search for them on Wowhead):

Pauldrons of Trembling Rage

Various pieces of the Turalyon set

Malevolent Girdle

Sabatons of Rapid Recovery

Crusader's Glory

Protector of Frigid Souls