Warcraft 1. Chapter I: Phoenix Reborn

Author's Notes:

I really didn't want to add an Author's Note at the beginning of each chapter because I feel it ruins the flow of the story, however it is against 's rules to post one as an individual chapter, so it looks like I'll have to do it this way from now on. Skip this text at the beginning of each chapter to get right into the story, and I apologize for doing it this way.

I started this chapter about 7 months ago, most of the first scene was I all got done, and it has been edited

since then.

World of Warcraft and all related trademarks are copy write Blizzard Entertainment.

All characters, however are created by me, or used with permission of the person it was inspired by.

Special Thanks to:

Retrosteph for helping me edit my random jumble of thoughts into something coherent and readable and for staying up until 2 am finishing the final draft!

Norbert for convincing me to finish this chapter and helping me organize my thoughts

Tulle, Bann, Shapy and all the other members of The Clam.

My Guild, Ravencrest Watch, you guys rock!

--

A cold wind blew over Astranaar. With its lush forests and mild climate, cold breezes never blow over Astranaar. Whether by wind or not, Gull involuntarily shivered, but thought nothing of it; all he was concerned about was the fish. He ran his hands through his golden-blond hair, while his deep-blue eyes narrowed at the calm scene in front of him. He removed the shiny bauble from the tackle box and attached it onto the end of the hook. Arching his arms over his head, he cast it into the crystal-clear body of water. Gull loved the lake for its stillness; its calmness was so serene. Even the slightest disturbance and the whole thing erupted into a mass of ripples. As the waves from his cast subsided, Gull stuck the fishing rod into the soft ground between his legs. Putting his hands behind his head, he leaned back, tipped his straw hat over his eyes, and began to slowly doze off.

Hearing soft footsteps coming towards him, he instinctively raised his head to see the interloper. He saw an old man with long white hair tied back into a short pony tail. The man's short beard was white as well, and his wide smile seemed almost yellow against it. He wore a tattered old leather vest with only three of its brass buttons still attached. His cotton pants were frayed slightly on the bottom. Despite his age, his muscular physique was visible through his clothes. He carried a woodman's axe over his left shoulder and supported several logs under his right. Gull recognized him immediately as Jerran.

Gull considered Jerran his best friend in his new home. When Gull first arrived at Astranaar, Jerran immediately took to him. He showed Gull how to fish, craft various lures, lines and poles, how to tell if a spot was good and rich with fish, and everything else he knew about fishing. These teachings alone qualified Gull as a master fisherman. That was not all Jerran had done, however. He taught Gull how to spot the best trees to use for making huts and how to create small dwellings.

Many days the two companions would sit side by side, fishing on the lake, enjoying their favourite hobby in silence. In that silence, the two men understood each other's habits and movements.

"Jerran," Gull greeted.

"Gull, how are the fish today?" Jerran replied, in more of a greeting than a question since he obviously knew.

"They don't seem to be biting today, maybe we fished all of them up? What are you up to old friend?"

"Helping Kami cut down the old trees to make room for new growth, and for fire wood, of course."

Gull smiled, "Always willing to help the community, Jerran?"

"Always, but I must be off; we need to clear about one-hundred trees today."

Gull pulled his hat back over his eyes as Jerran walked towards the bridge leading off the island. His eyelids became heavy and he did little to stop them closing over his eyes

Gull had no idea how long he was sleeping for, but the sound of his taunt line snapping sent him scrambling for it. He grabbed it and began to reel it in. What ever it was, it was huge! Gull put one leg up on a tree and pulled with all his might. Out of the water a huge mass flew into the air, knocking Gull over and soaking his clothes. When he stood up all that he saw in front of him was a heavily armoured, dripping, night elf.

"Fish jumpin' today, Gull?" asked the night elf as he shook off the water.

Gull's eyes narrowed at his Hunter friend, Ferunn.

"Not after you scared them all off with that little... stunt," was his response.

Ferunn tilted his back and laughed. Gull stood up and tried to shake himself dry, noticeably worse at it than his companion.

"So," said Gull, "What are you doing here, besides hindering my fishing, of course."

Ferunn rested his gun over his shoulder and looked at Gull, and uttered only one word:

"Hunting."

"Hunting? You mean you're shooting animals who have no chance of fighting back?"

"Ah, Gull," sighed Ferunn, "The pacifist; the fisherman, when will you live? I doubt you would even raise arms if the Scourge was attacking this very town here! What would you do, ignore them and keep fishing?"

At the sound of the word "Scourge," Gull's hands clenched into fists, his heart raced, and his eye twitched several times. Ferunn, how ever, did not notice this.

"Alright then friend, if you do not wish to participate I will do a duo, just myself and Bangalash."

With that, Ferunn put his fingers into mouth, and let forth a sharp whistle and a huge white tiger came bounding. Ferunn loved his big cat, he had had him for several months now, he tamed him while hunting with the great Hemet Nessingwary in Stranglethorn Vale. He affectionately patted the big cat's head, and ran into the dense forest, with King Bangalash on his heels.

Gull sighed heavily, and looked up at the sky... blocked out by the immense trees. He lived in Astranaar for many months now, he didn't need the sun to tell him that it was late. Gull stood up, picked up his tackle box, fishing pole and trudged slowly back to his small one room shack, on the corner of the tiny island.

Gull pushed open the simple wooden door. All that was in this tiny hut was a bed, a small table with two hand-made chairs, and a small hearth. Several wall-mounted shelves ran around the perimeter of the shack, holding fishing supplies, a carving knife, his lumberjack's axe, and the rest of his possessions. He sighed and realized his head felt bare. His hat! He must have left it by the lake. Sighing, he opened the door and walked out into the darkness. The island was very small, and he easily found his spot and put his hat firmly back on his head. He had turned around to go home when a strange sight caught his eye.

The lake, normally perfectly still... was rippling.

--

Hunched over a round wooden table littered with arcane scrolls and open books sat a young man, his auburn hair fell to the shoulders of his dark blue robes. His small circular glasses were pushed to the tip of his nose as he studied the ancient lettering and symbols. The glow of the small candle on the table illuminated the tiny hut with a warm glow. The young scholar sighed and put his glasses on top of the scroll he had been deciphering.

"The arcane works in mysterious ways," he mumbled to himself.

Pulling an equally olden leather-bound tome towards himself, he reached for a quill and parchment to copy the spell. His hand landed on an empty spot on the low bookshelf behind him. The spellcaster turned and blinked remembering where his large stack of parchment went. He sat with his body still twisted around, thinking back to earlier that day.

--

A knock at the door disturbed him from his work.

He turned to face the doorway and beckoned, "Come in."

A man in his thirties pushed the door open and beamed at him. He had neatly parted golden hair and a trimmed beard of the same colour. He could see the man's muscular physique even through his worn coveralls, which were tucked into faded leather boots. In his hands he held a wide brimmed straw hat, a fishing rod, and tackle box. The man continued to smile pleasantly at him, and unable to help himself, he smiled back.

"Morning Norbert," the visitor greeted, "how are you on this fine morning?"

Norbert brushed his hair back from his face and stood, replying "I am fine, Gull. To what do I owe the honour of the finest fisherman in Astranaar?"

"Well, Norbert," Gull started, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, "I was wondering if I could borrow some more of your writing parchment, if you don't mind"

"Very well, Gull, I will give you my last twenty sheets. But may I ask, why are you in need of so much parchment? You have borrowed no less than 200 sheets from me in the last month alone!"

Gull beamed even wider. "Secret fishing lure," he said quickly as he took the parchment from Norbert's outstretched hands. Giving his thanks, he tucked the bundle under his arm and headed for his favourite tree…

Later that day, Norbert had decided to visit Gull's shack and see what exactly he had been using all of his parchment for. Gull had previously invited him over, but Norbert was in the middle of translating a freshly discovered scroll sent from his correspondent in Redridge, so he had declined. Gull had said that his door was always open, so Norbert had walked across the island to Gull's wooden shack. It was larger than his own, and had a brick chimney poking out from the edge of the roof. Smoke puffed merrily from it, and he took it as a sign that Gull was home.

Norbert knocked on the door and heard the screech of wood rubbing against wood and some footsteps, before the door slowly swung open. Gull stood on the other side, for a brief second a look of surprise was on his face -- quickly replaced by a welcoming smile.

"Norbert!" Gull exclaimed "What a wonderful surprise. Come in, come in; I was just making some tea."

Norbert followed Gull into his home, which held only a bed, some shelves filled with things that seemed to be fishing paraphernalia, and many other things he didn't recognize. He was about to question Gull about the parchment, when out of the corner of his eye he noticed something. What caught his eye was a large leather-bound book sitting upright marked with a large blue symbol.

"Come sit down!" Gull said, sitting himself and pulling out the other chair from beneath the table.

"You have a very nice home, Gull," Norbert complimented, as he sat in the seat offered by Gull.

"Thank you very much; I built it when I first moved here."

"Gull," Norbert asked gesturing at the book behind him "Where did you get that book?"

"That book…" Gull said pausing for a few minutes as if in deep thought, "That book was given to me by a very good friend, and I'd rather not talk about it."

Unfazed, Norbert asked, "May I examine it? It could contain some useful spells I may be able to translate."

Gull looked as if he already knew the answer to it, but he agreed to let Norbert examine it. Norbert promptly took it out of its holder and carefully opened the front cover. The first page of the book was covered in runes that Norbert didn't have the faintest clue what they were or what language they were written in. He quickly flipped through the book and saw nothing at all he could decipher. He waved his hand over the book and said an incantation for a magical detection spell; sure enough the book gave off a faint blue aura for a few seconds.

--

Norbert sighed yet again. He had given his last parchment to Gull. He did have some logs he could grind into pulp outside his dwelling, but he took it as sign that he should stop with the recopying tonight and switch to the studying. Reaching for a different tome his shack was suddenly a lot brighter. Looking out the window he saw why, torches -- a lot of torches. Listening closely, he heard the sounds of mail armour and axes clacking together, and the stomps of lots of feet marching together.

"Looks like I won't get anything else done tonight," he complained, pulling the cloth bookmark into the groove and shutting the tome.

At that very moment he heard the sounds of several people just outside his door conversing in Orcish. Norbert raised his left hand, pulling back the long sleeve of his robe, and began to recite an ancient phrase.

--

Gull quickly assessed the situation: Astranaar was a tiny community; only a dozen buildings with about thirty inhabitants present on the little island. Of them, Gull estimated only eleven of them could fight. There were four Sentinels from Darnassus, but they were untested and had probably never seen any real combat.

He looked around at the raiding party that had surrounded the entire northwestern side of the lake. He quickly counted twenty, no--thirty orcish warriors and 3 siege catapults, their ammunition already ablaze. He spotted the symbols on their banners hung from the engines of war--it was easy enough to guess without his years of previous war experience. The symbol was a crudely painted sword on fire--The Burning Blade clan. They had no affiliation with the Horde. orcs under Thrall were scholars and nobles compared to this lot.

Gull looked down at his boots. He didn't want war; he was tired of the killings. He had made his way to this very place to escape it all, and now it had come to him. Glancing up, he heard a cry from a night elf Sentinel as a spear dug itself into her stomach. With blood flowing from the wound, she fell to the ground, but still managed to sit up--barely alive. Gull felt for something deep inside him: something that he hadn't used in a long time and he had hoped would never use again. In the dark recesses of his soul he found it, and it found him. His eyes opened wide as his hidden Holy energy surged through him. He became aware of his mana again after all that time he kept it buried within. Channeling it into a healing spell, he threw up his right hand--more from practice than actual practicality--and a beam of golden light struck the Sentinel. She jolted upright, as if a new strength flowed through her. The bleeding had stopped and she snapped off the spear at the head. Renewed, she hurled her glaive at the crowd of spear throwers before taking cover behind the arch that marked the bridge.

Gull watched the scene, smiling, knowing that he had saved a life. That expression quickly changed as he realized he would have to take more lives than one today. The Holy energy still flowed through him, and he sensed it. He felt calmer, stronger, and wiser all in one. Gull was a Paladin, and the Paladins swore to defend the innocent of the Alliance at all costs. Dropping his now forgotten hat, he raced back to his hut.

Gull opened the door to his hut, and sat in his bed. He was faced with a choice… a choice he knew he'd have to make one day. His mana, he thought, was lost after that fateful day, gone for good. Deep inside himself he knew it was there, but had no desire to use it, for it had failed him… no--he had failed. Now that it was back he felt stronger than before. Or was it the same? He could hardly remember, yet he could see it like it was yesterday. Gull lifted his foot from the floor. It felt so right, he had been a fool. His Holy mana was a gift and he should use that gift to heal, to spread joy… to deliver retribution to the wicked. He brought his boot down hard and smashed right through the floor boards, revealing a hidden compartment. Gull reached down and slid out a long object, covered in a dusty old cloth. The cloth was a blur as he eagerly yanked it off revealing a long sword--his Truesilver Champion.

Back in the days of the war, Gull was a master smith, one of the best in his Corps. He heavily modified the original design of the Truesilver Champion, making it lighter, thinner, and stronger. It could be wielded in one hand or two, was strong enough to pierce armour, and agile enough to be used in even the most martial of combat styles. Holy runes glowed blue down the center of the blade, infusing it with magic. On command the sword would incase the holder in a shield, absorbing some of the harmful attacks inflicted on its wielder.

Gull laid the sword next to him and removed his old armour. A huge boulder smashed through his roof, landing next to him. His home caught fire and he ignored it, rummaging through his armour. He was disappointed to note that his iron standard issue knight's armour from The Second War was rusted. As the fire spread all around him, bathing everything in a red hue, he don despite the spoiling, pulling the plated chest piece over his frame. He slid on the legguards, pauldrons, gloves and boots. The armour was a stony grey with a few rusted patches here and there, and accented with the royal blue of Lordaeron. The simple rounded plate shoulders extended past his real shoulders both to make him look more intimidating and to provide extra protection. The next item he removed from the crevice almost brought a tear to his eye. It was a rich blue with a golden ornate "L" in the centre--his old Lordaeron tabard. It was still in perfect condition despite being tied over his breastplate every battle. His old silk cape was next, and he quickly tied it around his neck before looking at the last item in his secret hold--his old helmet. It was a simple helmet, with a T-shaped slit from the eyes and horns projecting from the sides. Gull looked around for a moment before realizing his house was on fire, then he slowly slid the helmet over his head and stood up. He took a step forward as a beam fell from the roof and snagged his cape. Cursing, he pulled and stumbled forward, his cape ripped clean down the centre behind him. Ignorant of it, he took his sword in his gauntleted hand and walked over to the exit as his house collapsed around him…

_Gull rose from the ashes of his new life into his old, the life of a Paladin._

--


	2. Chapter II: Angel of Retribution

1Chapter II: Angel of Retribution

Gord was a good orc. A giant for even his race, he stood almost seven feet tall; seven feet of dark green muscle and metal, his wiry black hair tied back into one thick braid which fell to his waist. He wore a dumb expression on his face, while his chain mail clanked languidly against his chest. He held an enormous double bladed battle axe in one meaty hand. In his other he held a torch, with which he threw into an already burning building. He smirked because he knew there would be much blood spilled here tonight, and he especially loved spilling the blood of the night elves. He would kill them on the battlefield, in their homes, or while they slept. It did not matter, his blood lust would not cease. He'd kill in order to sustain his sanity, at least for a short while.

A huge flaming boulder crashed into the building next to Gord, exploding and showering him with shrapnel. His blood lust grew and he roared. Blood dripped down his face and onto his upper body from the many splinters now lodged in his body. The whole village was burning sending smoke clouds into the skies until all that was visible was the red of the flames, the red blood of the dead, and the red silhouettes of the perished combatants. The air was filled with the death cries of the night elves, the battle howls of orcs, the occasional boulder launched from crude catapults, and the crackling and popping of flaming buildings.

Gord didn't even realize that he had been walking; the blood lust had poisoned his mind while strengthening his body. He stopped at the edge of the island near a small flaming shack. He stood and stared at the tiny shack, when suddenly the door flew off its hinges. The huge orc lazily sidestepped the flying door, raising his huge axe in a defensive stance, ready to respond to almost anything that came at him… almost, anything.

There, directly in front of him, stood a demon. The demon was pure black, a shadow. He could see the flames emerging from the burning shack; licking its outline. The demon's huge jutting shoulders stuck out from its body, its horned head turned and gazed sharply at him. Gord, unable to speak, let his axe drop a little. The demon's eyes began to glow a bright white. Suddenly, a breeze blew past the orc and the demon spread its feathery wings. He slowly came to the realization that this was not a demon, but an angel. As the being swung its sword at Gord's head, he grew certain that this was indeed an angel. An Angel of Retribution.

--

Gull exhaled as his sword cleaved through the green beast's neck. He immediately returned to a neutral stance, even as the orc's head landed next to him with a dull thud and the body teetering. His years of disciplined swordplay had taught him to never underestimate an opponent. He did not have time to wonder why Gord had not attacked him before he heard the whistle of steel cutting through the air behind him. He whirled around, parrying a blow from above his head, which would have split his skull, Gull then brought down his own sword in a diagonal slash across the attacker's chest. He kicked his opponent in the chest and the orc fell onto its back, dead before it touched the ground.

Gull looked at the scene unfolding around him. The orcs had killed the Sentinels and most of the community was on fire. The invaders were roaming around in small groups, knocking over statues and archways while smashing anything they could get their hands on. A large number of orcs were clustered around the Lodge, the largest building in the village, which overlooked the lake. Curiously it was not on fire, and Gull soon saw why. Every time one of the orcs came within distance to throw a torch, they would be shot or hit, with a green bolt of crackling energy. The orcs were stout, a simple bullet or spell would not stop them for they would simply get up and take another charge. Gull could see the defenders would not last much longer; the amount of orcs that were slowly converging on the building meant that eventually one of their torches would hit its mark.

Gull started off towards the Lodge when he heard the battle cry of an orc behind him. Spinning around quickly he blocked the sharp blade of the axe, but was thrown off balance. The orc, taking advantage of this, elbowed Gull in the stomach, attempting to knock him off his feet. Gull twisted his midsection to deflect the force of the blow and brought down the pommel of his sword on the orc's head. The orc was stunned for only a fraction of a second, but it was as long as was needed. Gull forced his sword through the green humanoid's midsection releasing a surge of blood from the orc's body.

Gull heard the same whistling noise as before, signaling an incoming attack. He pulled on his sword, which slid smoothly from the collapsing orc's body, as he did this he turned around and deflected the incoming blow with the side of his sword. He sliced at the enemy, but the orc managed a quick block and was knocked off his footing. Pressing his advantage on the green skin, Gull rapidly slashed left and right across its chest. The orc reeled from the attack and threw its arms behind his head for a power attack. Gull stabbed the orc's throat while its defenses were down and at last killed the beast.

Gull paused, holding his sword in front of himself. The sound of his heart pounding in his ears obscured the sound of the crackling fire. He sensed movement from the darkness behind him, twisting his torso to scarcely dodge an axe as it flew past his ear. He turned around to see two more orcs running towards him. One broke off to his left and the other to his right trying to flank him. Gull hastily blocked a high attack to his right and then pointed his sword towards the ground to block an attack aimed at his legs. He jumped back, swinging his sword upwards into the neck of the rightmost orc. As the slain opponent fell, Gull thrust his sword into the neck of the other orc as its arms went wide for a swing.

When the second orc's corpse hit the ground, Gull felt a sense of relief; however, it was short lived. Gull looked in the direction of the lodge and spotted a group of no less than a dozen orc warriors running at him with their weapons drawn, howling their war cries. Gull sighed and twirled his sword in right hand as they approached. As they neared melee distance, he channeled his Holy Energy into the blade. When they struck, he would be ready.

--

A pellet of heavy shot produced a loud crack and a faint plume of smoke as it flew from Ferunn's hunting rifle into the chest of an orc. The green creature merely stumbled before charging once more. Around him other orcs sprinted towards him as well; their thick mail amour clattering loudly. They were armed with an assortment of weaponry, including axes, swords, spears, and maces. But they all held one thing in common: a lighted torch in their hands. So far Ferunn and the druid, Kaylenn, had been able to hold off the brutal assault, firing from the holes in their makeshift barricade of furniture and the old splintered door of the Lodge. Out of the open wall, which overlooked the lake, a hellish red light flowed in. Luckily that part of the lodge wall was open providing an avenue for projectiles to move through, but denying the orcs from entering. Kaylenn held his arms in front of him, palms outward; trembling slightly from the mana converging in his arms, he shook violently and releasing a pulsing crackling green ball of energy. The magical projectile flew through the narrow opening and knocked an orc off his feet a few meters away. Hearing the moans of the wounded behind him, Kaylenn realized they needed him. Another night elf, wearing a bloody bandage around his head, ran to the barricade taking Kaylenn's position and loaded an arrow into his bow.

Ferunn was firing as fast as he could, scooping pellets from his pouch and jamming them into his gun. Sweat glistened on his forehead as he fired desperately into the oncoming tide of green skins. He knew they could only hold out for so long before being eventually overwhelmed, but he fired on anyway. Ferunn glanced over at his fellow night elf beside him, watching his dark green hair be tossed back and forth as he threaded arrow after arrow into his bow before letting them loose through the narrow opening in the wall. Without warning, the sound of a small piece of wood striking the framework of the structure resonated throughout the lodge…

Time seemed to slow as the realization of what just happened slowly crept into the minds of the few inhabitants. The wounded lay bleeding in one end of the L shaped lodge as Kaylenn tried his best to mend their wounds. Some sat up with a look of dread on their faces. Ferunn ignored them and continued to fire at his, constant, insane pace. More and more torches landed on the roof, and the sizzle of the spreading fire soon could be heard. The temperature increased, as a support beam began to fall down from the roof, leaving a gaping hole in it. The orcs, seeing their assault had worked, began to charge the barrier with hardened resolve. The barricade would not hold against the blunt force of the orcish bodies colliding with it. As the spreading flames licked at Ferunn's squatting body he clenched his teeth against the pain and continued to fire… unsure if he would outlast the building he sat in.

--

Gull danced inside a wall of steel, swinging his sword in all directions, deflecting the attacks of the orcs who surrounded him. One attacker threw his sword downwards attempting to decapitate him. He placed his sword parallel to the ground and blocked, before immediately shifting his sword behind his back to block an attack from the rear. He spun, flinging his weapon into the path of another attack. The orcs slashed and chopped with their weapons, but every move, every attack, every advance was countered by Gull's Truesilver Champion with extreme precision. The orcs couldn't break through Gull's defense, but Gull himself could not hit them. If he broke his chain of parries and blocks it was sure that an orc would strike him, then another, and another until he was but a bleeding chunk of flesh; but Gull's entire mind was not focused on swordplay.

Gull slowly channeled the mana he needed for a spell. Blocking another attack, he jumped back with all the force his legs could muster, knocking the orcs behind him to the ground while getting sufficient distance from the whole group. Spreading his hands, he let loose the mana; his palms shone a bright white as he clapped them together while still holding his sword. A blinding sphere of white spread outwards like a wave of light. The light burned the orcs' eyes, blinding them momentarily, which was all Gull needed.

As they threw up their hands to shield their eyes, Gull charged towards them. He sliced into the unarmored section of an orc's chest. Twirling, he stabbed another orc in the neck, and yet another through the armpit as its arms were still raised in reflex from the flash of light. The fourth had regained some of its vision, and launched a feeble attack at Gull, who easily sidestepped it and decapitated the orc. The two dazed opponents whom he bowled over had rose to their feet. Gull kneed one in the stomach, knocking the air out of it, while he slit the other across the face followed by driving his sword through the chest of his final opponent who was still gasping for breath.

Gull stood over the pile of bodies panting heavily. He drove his sword into the ground and leaned on the hilt as he tried to catch his breath. He had forgotten how tiring fighting in his heavy plate armor was. He gazed at the ground which was littered with bodies of his fallen opponents, and felt his heart swell, mourning for the lives that he had taken. It greatly pained Gull to kill, to end a life. He had become a Paladin to defend, heal, and preserve life, not take it away. He lifted his head at the ghastly sight that was once his home; in his mind, he could still see the night elves working at the loom in the small house that was now a pile of smoldering wood, the hunters conversing idly in their hall, the guards playing and sparring at their post. The memories of his stay fortified his resolve. He remembered the other reasons why he had became a Paladin, to stop innocent deaths and to bring justice to those who would defile and pillage his home and its people.

Gull was so deep in his contemplation that he did not notice the axe swung at his side, until it was too late. Gull was jarred back into reality by a searing pain in his side. The orc twisted the blade, opening the wound more as he ripped it from his side. Wincing in pain, he parried one of the orc's swings at his head with one hand, his other pressed firmly against his wound. The axe had cleaved right through his armour and into the side of his ribs, although it probably would have been much worse without the rusting heap of metal that he was wearing. Gull blocked another attack and slashed at the orc's undefended arm. It cut deeply, and the orc howled out of pain and blood lust. He began to swing wildly, ignoring the fact that Gull was lightly slitting and stabbing in between the orc's larger and more powerful attacks. The Paladin dodged, blocked, and parried past his opponent's blows until he made a dangerous thrust with the tip of his blade; the orc jumped aside and drove his axe deep into Gull's shoulder. The orc leaned on the axe, forcing him to his knee before he took aim at his neck. Rolling out of the way, Gull stood again, still holding his side with his left hand and sword with his right.

Blood was rolling down his side and spilling from his shoulder; it took all the strength Gull could gather to keep from passing out. The orc roared and threw another attack but as Gull rose to block it, the orc changed direction at the last second and delivered a brutal incision to his stomach. Gull jumped back and fell to his knee in pain. The orc was in pain as well, from the many smaller lighter jabs and cuts that were inflicted upon him, but he still had a bit of fight left in him, enough to finish off the wounded paladin. Closing his eyes, Gull began to cast the Holy Light onto his wounds. His hands began to glow as he formed the spell. A ray of Holy Light flashed across Gull's body; his cuts closed, flesh mended, and bones snapped back together. Gull stood straight, taking his sword in both hands, staring intently at his opponent, daring him to try again. The orc realized he was beat, and let forth a bone rattling roar before charged at the Paladin. Gull greeted the orc sword point first, and ran it into him all the way to the hilt. Pulling on the sword, he released the body of the orcish warrior to the ground.

From the corner of his eye Gull noticed several orcs regrouping around Norbert's shack. Silently praying that his friend was still alive, he gathered himself and ran towards them.

--

As Gull approached the dwelling, he became aware that the orcs had not spotted him. Carefully, he crouched low and crept closer, keeping a small shrub between him and his opponents. The orcs had arranged themselves around the entrance to the shack; one on the left, one on the right, and two in front of the door; one of the orcs that was in front of the door leaned and pulled his leg back to kick the door in. At that instant, a huge column of flame exploded from the interior of the shack, incinerating the door and charring both the orcs into blackened, smoking corpses.

Norbert sprang from his smoking door frame; he had abandoned his long blue scholarly robes for fire red short-sleeved combat robes. A ball of fiery magic already gathered in both of his hands. He extended both arms parallel to the ground with palms outward, and two spheres of fire shot from his palms, striking the orcs in their chests and knocking them back. The young mage lowered his arms and wiped his brow with the sleeve of his robes.

Gull was impressed with the power of his young friend. He knew now that Norbert could handle himself and was about to leave his friend when he heard a shout. Norbert fell to the ground in a daze; in an instant another orc was on top of him, its arms arcing over his head. Out of instinct, Gull sent a Hammer of Justice flying at the orc. The conjured magical hammer struck him and he wobbled back and forth, stunned.

As Gull was closing the distance between himself and his opponent, the orc came out from the effect of the spell. Unaware of what happened, he brought the axe down on the young mage, who had just come to his senses. Unable to react to the sudden attack, he froze, staring at his impending doom. Gull hooked his sword under the head of the axe and twisted the weapon out of the orc's grip before driving his blade into orcish flesh.

Gull knelt beside his fallen friend and extended his healing aura to the downed mage. Coming to his senses, Norbert became aware of Gull's presence. He stared up at the paladin.

"Wh-who are you?"

"Retribution."


	3. Chapter III: New Beginnings

Chapter III: New Beginnings

Norbert was in a fog, thick smog surrounded him, enclosing him from all sides and angles. He felt miserable and alone, the darkness trapped him. He knew that he would die here, in this place alone, sad, devoid of all other life. It was too unbearable for him, he felt the pressure bear down and crush him beneath its gargantuan presence.

Out the corner of his eye he saw a tiny speck of light, no bigger than a pinhole. Whether it was there or not he couldn't tell, but somehow he just knew it was. He felt the tiniest fragment of hope in his heart. He rose to his feet and ran towards the light. He ran with all his will, with all his heart, with every ounce of strength in his body. As the pinhole expanded in size he felt the hope inside him grow. The darkness fled as the light grew. As the light grew and threatened to overcome the smog, suddenly it was gone, and the overwhelming light faded. Norbert stood face to face with the source of the light, the hope. It was a man clad in golden armour.

The helmet was golden with wings jutting sharply from the sides like a bird taking off. The spaulders were rounded and bulky. What caught his eye was on the center of the breastplate, striking against the gold of the rest, was a silver hand. The entire suit of armour was ornate and covered in runes and the marks of a master smith. There were no visible lines where the pieces overlapped; it appeared to be one giant piece of metal. In one hand the armoured man held a giant two-handed mace. He hefted the mighty warhammer and holstered it on his back. The golden man locked his gaze with Norbert, two piercing blue eyes could be seen from between the slits in the helmet, and he heard a voice whisper "Norbert".

----

"Norbert!"

Norbert sprang up from the grass where he had been laying. It took him a second to remember what had happened. Orcs, village burning, and a big jagged axe coming down at him. He looked up at the man who saved him, and saw the same piercing blue eyes that he had met in his dream. Who was this man and where did he come from? Before Norbert even had time to ask these questions or thank him, the stranger was running off towards the lodge. Norbert jumped to his feet and ran after him.

----

After he had ascertained that his friend was alright, Gull remembered that there was no time to spare, so he sprinted towards the lodge. The flames on the building stretched to sky, and the moon's light retreated against the onslaught. There were many orcs gathered around the barricaded entrance, whose defenders had fallen back… or been killed. With the thought of the latter in his mind Gull pulled his sword from his scabbard and charged into the gathering of orcs.

As he drew near he tossed the sword into the air and caught it so the tip was pointed towards the ground. With both hands on the hilt, he slashed a deep gash straight down the spine of the first orc, who fell the ground. Flipping the sword again, Gull raised it with one hand to block the attack of an orc who had turned around upon hearing the death rattle of his comrade. From the block he cut open the orc's abdomen and slashed another orc across the eyes.

The group of orcs, just now realizing that a new threat was behind them, all turned around to face him. They gripped their weapons menacingly and tried spread out to surround him. Gull, conscious that he could be overwhelmed should one get behind him, quickly scanned his opponents. He noticed an opening in the way the orc on the left held his axe and exploited it by cutting a small, but deep, laceration into his chest. The move left him defenseless to the orc on the right, who tried stick his poorly-crafted axe in Gull's back. Gull turned to try to avoid the blow, but the axe still removed what little overhang there was to his shoulder armour. At the same time the orc in the middle leaned forward and attacked Gull's midsection. Gull tried to avoid it, but the axe still cleaved his armour and into his stomach. He jumped back holding his weapon defensively as the trio slowly approached again, this time with grin on their faces.

----

Norbert ran after the man who had saved his life, he seemed to know where he was going, heading straight for the Lodge, which Norbert saw was almost completely engulfed in flames. Norbert was amazed at this man, the way he ran headlong into the group of orcs; he had never seen such reckless disregard for one's own safety before. However, Norbert was impressed when he saw that the stranger had managed to kill three of the invaders each with a single strike. The man had incredible finesse and skill with his sword; the way he moved and fought showed skill beyond that of anything he had ever seen. Norbert, still making his way toward the lodge, counted three orcs attempting to surround the armored man. Norbert watched as the human lashed out at one orc, causing it to jump back, and then swung his sword to the right, cutting the rightmost orc across the cheek. The orc responded by swinging his axe, and the human easily dodged it. The orc in the middle began wildly thrashing with his axe and the man had to deal with that as well.

As Gull was fighting the three orcs, Norbert noticed that, a short distance away from the group of clashing warriors, another orc stood back with a bow in his arms. The string was taut as the orc took aim at the man whom he had witnessed strike down three of his comrades. Acting out of instinct, Norbert called the arcane arts into his hands, and enchanted fire leaped from his palm into the face of the orc. The humanoid reeled from the burns and proceeded to take aim at Norbert. An arrow whooshed through the air towards the young scholar. He quickly put his hands together in front of him, and then spread them in a wide arc; fire followed the trail and burned the arrow into nothingness. As the orc reached into his quiver, Norbert shot a weak, but quick fireblast at the enemy's hand. The orc instinctively shook his hand to relieve some of the burning sensation while Norbert channeled his mana into a more intense fireball, and he launched it at the orc's chest, who was blown off his feet. Norbert stood, ready to quickly cast a flurry of flame magic, but the orc didn't move. Turning back to his ally, Norbert quickly noticed that the man had felled all three orcs, as well as two more. An orc's back was to the human as it attempted to break into the blazing Lodge. the stranger ran toward the orc, leading with his sword point and heaved all his body weight, using the orc as a ram to break through the very barrier the orcs had been trying to destroy all night.

----

Ferunn sat with his back to a wall and knees to his chest, squeezed between them was his rifle. The air in the lodge was thick with black smoke, and hot from the fire. His long, violet hair was matted to his head from sweat, and he panted, getting very little oxygen from the air. The attackers were bashing at the door again, and as he heard the wood in the barrier crack, he knew they would get through this time. Ferunn gently pulled the hammer back, readied his finger on the trigger, and wait.

The wooden barrier cracked and snapped with a strike. Another hit, and the wood began to cave in, another and another, the cracks becoming larger. Then, they stopped. Ferunn continued to aim his gun at the door, before his strength failed, his gun lowered, and he closed his eyes to die.

Without warning, an axe shattered the barrier sending a cloud of shrapnel at him. Ferunn quickly covered his face with his forearm, dropping his gun. He lowered his arm to see the grinning, green, scarred face of an orc looking through a sizeable hole in the barricade. The orc held a large axe in his right hand; he cocked into position to throw at the elf, and Ferunn closed his eyes tight in preparation for impact. Before that happened the orc was thrown through the barricade. A figure lay on top of the orc. It stood up and pulled its sword from the orc's chest. The stranger quickly looked around the lodge.

"Let's get you out of here," it said through its helmet.

Before Ferunn could agree, there was a thunderous crash and a massive support beam broke from the roof and fell, crushing Ferunn beneath it.

----

Gull pulled his sword from the dead orc and looked around the Lodge. He saw a night elf choking for air in one corner, along with about 6 night elves whom he knew just from sight were dead. He looked down at Ferunn, he was sweaty, bloody, burnt and bruised, but at least he was alive.

"Let's get you out of here," Gull said. His head snapped up the sound of crashing above as a support beam smashed into his friend, crushing him. There was only one thing Gull could think to do, he acted out of instinct. He let the power of The Light flow into him and amplify his strength, he grabbed the enormous beam and he poured every last bit of mana he possessed, every ounce of his holy power into his hands. They began to glow a bright white, and he grabbed onto Ferunn's arm, the holy power pouring into his body; lungs inflated, organs reformed, bones snapped back together, blood returned to veins, and the faint spark of life relight into a fire.

Ferunn looked up at him "What just ha-"

"There's no time," Gull interjected, "the Lodge is collapsing." With that, Gull ran over to the two night elves who were not unconscious, he lifted one over his shoulders and watched Ferunn do the same. Pieces of the roof fell and the support of the building began to crash to the ground. As the pair ran out of the Lodge, it collapsed on itself. They lowered their two night elf comrades gently to the ground outside.

The battle seemed to be winding down, dead orcs and night elves lay everywhere. The remaining orcs were fleeing across the bridge from which they'd come, and in pursuit was a sentinel and a handful of night elves who had armed themselves to fight the invaders. From the corner of his eye Gull saw Jerran lying on his back with the bodies of three orcs around him. He ran over to his friend, who had a massive opening in his abdomen and lay in a rapidly expanding pool of blood. Gull knelt down by his friend's head and heard ragged, shallow breathing. Jerran turned his head and looked up at him to smile, but Gull could tell he was in tremendous agony. "Gull… I know you had it still in you," Jerran coughed out weakly.

Gull was surprised by Jerran's immediate recognition of him "Jerran…" he mourned examining his wounds. They would be fatal, and he had no mana at all after laying his hands on Ferrun. "Hah, apparently I still had it too" Jerran chuckled "Took these three out with just my lumber axe," Gull looked quizzically at his old friend; he had never known Jerran to be a fighter.

"Gull… I've lived a good life, but it's about to end here," Jerran whispered

Gull eyed his wounds again. He had many grievous wounds, besides the one revealing his intestines. "No, you'll be fine Jerran, just hold on!" Gull looked around frantically for a druid, a healer, anyone, but he saw no one.

Jerran hacked and spit up blood "No Gull, I know my time in this place is done. My life has been long and well lived. I have but one last unfulfilled goal, I need you to do something."

"Anything." Gull pledged.

Jerran slowly reached into his vest pocket and pulled out his pipe. Gull had seen Jerran smoke from it, but he has never seen it up close until now. The pipe was carved from a single piece of ivory in the shape of a ship. It was incredibly detailed, tiny riggings ran from sail to sail and small windows could be seen along the hull. The tip of the bowsprit had a small opening where the smoke was sucked through. The mainmast was hollowed out for the tobacco to be packed and lit.

Jerran held the pipe out to Gull who took it in his hands and inspected it. "I borrowed that from an old friend, far too many years ago." Jerran broke out into a fit of coughs before finishing "Archmage Talben, he is in Stormwind. I never break a promise, and I promised he'd get his pipe back, and by The Light, he'll get his pipe back." With that, Jerran's head relaxed and his eyes gazed far into the distance.

A tear dripped down his face as Gull stared at the body of his best friend. "Your promise will not be broken, Jerran." Gull passed his hand over his friend's face, closing Jerran's eyes one last time. Gull tucked the pipe inside his breastplate and slowly walked toward the town's inhabitants who were now gathering water from the lake to put out the fires.

----

Gull dropped his bucket onto the ground. It was over three hours after it had started. The invading orcs had been driven back into the woods where they scattered. The bright fires of Astranaar were finally extinguished. The wet ruins of the small but proud city still gave off small wisps of smoke. The town had been almost totally destroyed; a few buildings still stood, but everything had been damaged by the flames. The orcs might return, but Gull knew a detachment of Sentinels would be on the way to protect against further invasion and to help rebuild. He was deep in thought, staring at the remains of the lodge, when he felt eyes peering at him. He looked up and was taken aback by what was left of the town standing around him, staring silently. They broke out into questions at once.

"I've never seen anyone take on that many orcs and live!" A male night elf with dark hair excitedly told him.

"I didn't know men could fight like that!"complimented the female innkeeper.

"What are you stranger?" another called.

"Where did you come from?"

"Who are you?"

"Where did you learn to fight like that!?"

As the flurry of excited questions continued, Gull began to speak, and immediately the throng became silent, some even in mid sentence, to hear what he had to say. "I am a follower of The Light; I bring justice to those in need and retribution to those who would defy it. I am a defender of the innocent and righteous, and a healer of the sick. I smite the wicked and bring the law where I travel. I am a Paladin and my name is…"

----

The crowd stood in silence as the stranger spoke, Norbert among them. Something irked the mage, the man's voice was oddly familiar… a slow comprehension crept into the mage's mind and he whispered in unison with the speaker "Gull."


	4. Chapter IV: Old History and New Memories

Gull and Norbert stood before the assembled town. They had salvaged what they could of their possessions. Gull had only saved what he had taken to battle and his Paladin's Tome. Between the passage of time and that last battle, his armour was almost completely destroyed. He had smelted his old armour down and salvaged what little metal he could and crafted it into a simple chestpiece. It didn't offer much protection, covering only his chest and back, but it was better than nothing. Behind this he strapped his tome, it fit securely into a groove he had carved while forging the armour. Gull wore a pack supplied by the villagers of Astranaar that was filled with enough food for a week's travel. The villagers had also given him a long traveling cloak, which covered his entire body, concealing his armour, sword and pack; with the hood up, his entire face was hidden.

Norbert had lost everything. Eight months of tedious research and translation, nearly all of his possessions, and the few sentimental items he kept were gone. All that had been spared from the fire's purge were his blue robes, a pair of boots, his wand, and a traveling cloak similar to the one Gull wore.

"Are you sure you'll be alright?" Gull asked Kaylenn, the druid he had pulled from the flaming lodge.

"Yes, Sentinels are on the way from Feathermoon Stronghold as we speak. They should arrive within a few days. The town was old, but it can be easily reconstructed. You have done so much already, if it wasn't for you, I'd fear we'd have faced the same fate as our friends." He gestured towards the graveyard, riddled with fresh graves that had yet to be marked. Gull grimaced at the thought.

Ferunn stepped forward and put his hand on Gull's shoulder in a sign of comradeship "Gull, you old dog. I still can't believe you're a Paladin. I'd never have guessed." His voice betrayed his amusement.

Gull's serious face broke into a wide grin "My commanding officer used to always say 'Gull, every time I think I've figured you out, and yet you never fail to surprise me.' I think that applies to you, too. I want you to know, you don't have to do this, and you owe me nothing. It is my duty as a paladin."

"Gull, no matter what you say, I have my own code of honour to obey. You saved my life, and for that I am forever in your debt; however, the orcs are still fleeing, and I know this forest better than anyone else. Last time, I was unprepared, and they surprised me. That is a mistake I will never repeat. This time, I will be the hunter." As he said the last sentence his enormous cat stalked from the shadows beside him. He slung his gun on his back. "Our paths will cross again, Gull, you can be sure of that." With that he hugged Gull, and bid what was left of his town farewell before running off with inhuman speed and silence into the forest.

The town's hippogryph master had been slain in the fighting. At the last moment, however, she had released all the hippogryphs which traveled back to Auberdine. A new flight master would be on her way from Darnassus, but that would take at least a week, and Gull had spent enough time loitering in Astranaar. Gull faced the crowd assembled before him. "You all have been very kind to me during my stay; you took in me and accepted a stranger into your community. You have proved your strength by remaining here even after such a great tragedy transpired. I wish the best for all of you, good bye and may The Light protect you." Gull finished his speech, took a last look at his home and headed south.

----

Norbert said his goodbyes, double checked his supplies and ran to catch up with the brisk-paced paladin. As he neared him he fell into stride with the bigger man. Gull walked in near silence, his leather boots barely making a sound as he marched purposefully across the forest floor. This would be a long walk, and the mage knew it would be even longer in silence. "I came to study the night elves' magic," Norbert said suddenly.

Gull turned his head to the mage, "Pardon?" he replied, confused.

"My master and I were sent by what was left of the Kirin Tor, the order of magi, to study the night elves' druidic magic. We traveled all across the Kaldorei's land studying any texts, ruins of druid barrow dens, anything we could get our hands on. When we set up camp in Astranaar and began to explore and study the areas around Ashenvale, Master Albatron was recalled by the Kirin Tor. I was told to continue the research until he returned, and it has been far too long. The Master was only supposed to be gone a few weeks. I believe he was recalled to help fight off the Scourge invasion. Not many of our order survived… I continued the research out of duty, but now that it's all gone…" Norbert's voice trailed off, the futility of all his work setting in with those last words.

Gull nodded at his friend, "Many brave men and women fell to the Scourge's onslaught. We have all lost someone important to us…" Gull paused and stared off into the distance.

Norbert sighed, "What about you, Gull? Until today I thought you had been a fisherman all your life," Gull chuckled at this. "What is your story?"

"My story is a long one. It would take much longer than this trip to tell." Gull laughed at his own joke, "I was found as a baby by the clerics at Northshire Abbey. I was raised there and it was there that I learned and trained in a variety of things. Apparently, the clerics saw that I was quite a little fighter. I was trained with myriad small wooden weapons. During a spar with a guard, I was accidentally stabbed with his sword. I healed myself without thinking and then disarmed the guard. After that, they decided that I was also innately very skilled with The Holy Light. I trained in combat and holy magics for my entire youth. Then the orcs came… I joined the army at the age of 13."

Norbert interrupted him, clearly shocked, "You fought with the army at 13? Why would they allow someone so young… a mere child to fight?"

Gull shook his head, "You don't understand. At the time of the orcish invasion, I could already beat both of the guards garrisoned at the Abbey. I was a very proficient healer, and the clerics knew they could teach me no more; the best training would be in the field. I was assigned to a knight…" Gull squinted in thought, "Garrett. Yes, Lord Garrett. He died in the first battle, killed in a duel with an orcish wolf rider. I took up his sword and avenged my lord. The commander of our unit watched the battle while holding off two orcs, and he decided to make me a full soldier. I was promoted to Private. I was still only a boy though. The other soldiers always looked down on me, wondering why I fought amongst them. I know they resented me. While I traveled with the protection of the Stormwind Army, their farms and families were being ravaged by orcish raiders." Gull sighed, "I eventually earned their respect and admiration though, at Stormwind itself. Our forces were slowly pushed back,and eventually The Horde lay siege to the capital. I fought in the fields surrounding Stormwind, along the gatehouses and bridges into the keep, down the ramparts and towers, and finally within the keep itself. I finally earned the respect of my fellow soldiers when I single-handedly slew a massive Ogre that had just impaled our Sergeant, Grumm, with its over-sized pike. I remember it like it just happened."

Gull's pace of his speech increased and he became excited as he recalled his emotions during duel. "I was covered in sweat and blood within my heavy plate armour, my muscles ached and my mind was exhausted from hours of constant combat. As Grumm's lifeless body bounced off the ground, I flew into a fury. I summoned what strength I had, I drew in the holy powers of The Light, but this time it was different. Until this time, I had used the power of The Light only to heal, never to enhance my strength and mind or to smite. I clashed with the huge Ogre, we locked blades, and his massive strength forced me to one knee. My muscles were about to give out when The Light surged into them, granting me strength I didn't know possible. I threw off the Ogre and fought with renewed conviction, eventually driving my blade deep into his heart. After that the men looked at me with a new respect; I rallied them and we fought bravely against the never ending sea of green. I ran back and forth between renewing and bestowing blessings of strength and healing wounds and inflicting death upon the invaders. But we were losing too many; blood stained the ground and the maimed and dying lay all around us. We were forced into the keep, when news came that Lothar had arrived and ordered a retreat we managed to fight out way out of the crumbling castle and fled with him." As he spoke of the city Norbert noticed Gull's tone changed to sorrow and his gaze wandered to the forest floor. "I helped organize the masses as we bid Azeroth, the land of our birth, goodbye."

Norbert stared at Gull. He saw clearly in the man's face that he loved Azeroth deeply. He wasn't going to prod further until Gull spoke up.

"Soon after we had set up our new Kingdom of Lordaeron, I was summoned to Uther Lightbringer." Norbert gasped at the mention of Uther. Uther and Lothar were considered two of The Alliance's greatest heroes, and Gull has served with both of them. "He had heard of my use of The Light in combat and in healing. The many recommendations from the commanders of the army impressed him. He was also impressed by my devotion to the principles and teachings of The Light and loyalty to the Alliance as these were the characteristics he was looking for. He had been assigned by Archbishop Faol to lead and train a new order- an order of elite knights who would be trained in the holy magics and devoutly defend Lordaeron. I agreed to join and was officially given the title Knight of the Silver Hand. Uther informed me that Lothar would be founding a new army to defend against the inevitable orcish invasion, and it was the duty of the newly founded paladin order to assist him. That and my devotion to defending our kingdom is why, when Lothar began preparations for the orcish naval invasion, I immediately accepted his offer of the position of Colonel to found and lead a regiment."

Gull launched into the next part of his story,. "I remember them standing assembled on the fields of Tirisfal with spotless armour, shinning shields, fresh faces, and there was an eagerness in their young eyes. They were eager for adventure and to defend their new homeland and avenge their fathers. The Tirisfal 16th, Six companies, one hundred men and women each, and none of them had any combat experience or were over the age of twenty-one. Because of my age, it was decided that I would lead such a young force. I led them, always from the front, and earned their respect and loyalty, and they earned mine in victory after victory against The Horde. We clashed with The Horde across the continent, racing back and forth from battle to battle; earning us the nickname "Hawks of Lordaeron" since, as one Marshal put it 'they must have wings, the way they fly across the kingdom.'" Gull chuckled at this, "But the endless battles had taken their toll. The Hawks of Lordaeron were slowly whittled down by battle after battle after battle, but the remaining few were hardened veterans after only a few short months. I used to jest that any one of my soldiers could take on a whole squadron of orcish grunts, but in later battles some of them proved that statement true. As the tide turned in our favour, The Hawks began seeking out and destroying any of the last orcish presence on Azeroth. When the Dark Portal was reopened, it was decided that an expeditionary force was to be sent through and destroy any orcish presence there, I was ready to take my regiment into the enemies' nest. However, High Command decided that the regiment was now too small, having taken so many casualties, to be eligible for the mission. And so, the Tirisfall 16th, The Hawks of Lordaeron, was disbanded and my men scattered and sent to various posts around the continent." Gull paused. "I never saw any of them again." Gull said somberly.

"I then returned to Uther and worked with him on administration and training of The Silver Hand… but I think I've talked too much, we'd need to walk to our destination and back Astranaar to finish my tale. I am just a lonely old soldier. What about you, Norbert, do you have any family?"

"I have a sister, Stephanie; I haven't spoken to her since I left for Dalaran for my training. Last I heard, she was doing something with the Stormwind Army." Norbert paused and tried to think of how to continue. "My parents owned a small tannery in Stratholme…"

"I'm sorry." Gull interjected into the silence.

"It's alright… I've… come to terms with their death." Norbert looked up at the sky and smiled. "I remember when I was just a boy. Every night, before he closed the shop, my father would lift me up on his shoulders and we'd look up at the stars, and I'd reach up and try to grab them. He'd tell me about all the constellations and star groups and the legends around them. I remember one night I told him I wanted to visit them one day. He took me off his shoulders, looked me right in the eyes, and said, 'Son, you are going to be great one day... one of the greatest men to ever bless our fair land, I know it. You can do anything you put your mind to as long as you work at it and believe in it with your entire being, even reaching the stars.'" Norbert looked back down at Gull to find the older man smiling at him with empathy. Norbert couldn't help but grin back. "I know he was just humoring me… but I don't know how to explain it."

"It felt good knowing someone would always be to support you and believed in you?" Gull inquired.

"Yeah," Norbert said, surprised at the paladin's insight. "And I remember Lucinda," Norbert sighed.

"Lucinda?" Gull replied, interested since immediately after saying the name Norbert flushed and looked away. "A certain special lady?" Gull said, grinning.

Norbert looked back at the paladin, still a little red. "Yes… her family owned a flower shop across the way from ours."

"Go on!"

Norbert paused uncomfortably before continuing, "She had long brown hair down to her back. She was beautiful, her features were soft and friendly. I don't think I ever saw her when she wasn't smiling; her green eyes were always squinted in laughter. I remember when we got a bit older; I'd always go into her shop to talk to her while I was supposed to be studying. My mother was upset, but my father would put his hand on her shoulder and say 'Let the boy be, you know what a pretty girl does to a man.' We'd always sit under this tree outside the city walls. I told her of my goals of becoming a powerful Archmage and creating powerful spells. She told me of her dreams of being a bard for the nobility. She had a wonderful voice… so soothing and calming. She sang songs for me, and I summoned little fire balls in shapes, making them dance back and forth between my palms to her applause." At this memory, Norbert extended both his palms. He uttered a quick spell, and ball of fire formed in his left palm. It slowly took shape, forming a crude dragon's head. The fire creature opened and closed its jaw and turned to face Gull. It then leapt to Norbert's right palm, a slender torso following it right into his hand. where it seemed to vanish in the space just above his palm, The head of the dragon disappeared first followed by the torso until the glow of the flame disappeared entirely. Gull had seen the mage summon huge fireballs that sent orcs flying through the air, and he was still awed at this tiny display. Norbert smiled, "She really liked that one."

"What ever happened to this girl?" Gull immediately realized his mistake and felt inconsiderate, since it was obviously painful for Norbert to think about.

"I don't know… I left for Dalaran when I was accepted into the Kirin Tor. A local mage had started off my training by teaching me a few spells here and there. Mostly I studied the history of mages, the natures of arcane works, and languages. After a few years of training, he wrote my letter of recommendation, and I was instructed to head to Dalaran to finish my training. The day I left, Lucinda walked me to the waiting gryphon at the aviary. I remember holding her hands in mine, gazing into her sad emerald eyes. I almost didn't go, but she told me that we should follow our dreams and eventually we'd meet again. Then she… she leaned forward and kissed me, a quick soft peck on the mouth. I don't think I stopped smiling the entire gryphon ride to Dalaran. After that… we wrote to each other for awhile… I got her last letter, telling of how she had been accepted as a singer for a minor noble family. She was so excited, I could feel the energy in her words. This was just before the Prince Arthas purged Dalaran…"

"I'm so sor- " Gull started.

"Don't be." Norbert cut in, his eyes slightly redder. "The time we shared… it was wonderful. The aftermath… as bad as it was, was worth it for the memories." Gull nodded understandingly to his friend. "What about you Gull? Any special women in your life?"

"Yes." Gull started "My Nalya. Smart, beautiful, skilled with all manner of weapons." Gull paused remembering things not thought of in many years.

"She sounds –"

Gull suddenly stopped and held up his hand to silence the mage. Ahead of them on the trail, two bears were fiercely fighting each other. One of them had a dark grey-brown coat and was bleeding heavily; its pelt was shredded and oozing. The larger bear was light brown and had a strange set of horns, with a roar it tore into the grey bear's left hind leg and tore off a large piece of flesh. The grey bear swung around and bashed its head into the face of the brown bear, stunning it. Then, the smaller bear turned tail and ran away, in the direction of Gull and Norbert, who had stopped to watch. The bear's features rapidly began to transform. The snout compacted and shrunk, and the fur receded into a length of light purple hair tied back into a ponytail. Its hind legs lengthened and slimmed. The torso slimmed into the curvy, fit form of a night elf female. She was clad in robes of earthen tones; her skirt appeared to be made of overlapping leaves. Her leg was shredded and bleeding heavily; she was hunched over and leaning heavily on her left leg as her hands clutched the bites across her chest. Gull was running towards her before she even transformed. Norbert guessed the paladin had encountered druids before.

The light brown bear was recovering from the stun and charged at the druid, Gull stepped in his path and kneed the animal in the jaw, causing a horrible snapping sound as the jaw broke. The bear reared on its hind legs and swiped its massive claws at the paladin. Gull slipped under them and slashed the bear across its exposed torso. The bear ran away from Gull, and with a cloud of smoke and similar transformation, it morphed into the form of a large Tauren. It's leather armour had a huge gash across the midsection where Gull's sword had slashed. He stopped and met the steel gaze of the paladin before slowly backing away. He morphed into a cheetah and sprinted away. Norbert was tending to the night elf druid. He cradled her head in her arms, and she looked up at him, her eyes telling him of the tremendous pain she was feeling. Norbert looked down with empathy at the druid. She was beautiful. Her light blue eyes were squinted in pain, her skin was a pale violet and her hair was a light purple. Her features were soft and feminine. Her body was curvaceous and buxom, yet fit and slim. Norbert shifted his eyes from the druid to Gull. "She's missing huge chunks of her torso, her stomach is ruptured." The mage paused before finishing his sentence "She's going to die…"

----

Solarinth was in a haze. Everything around her was a blur. She couldn't feel anything, her body was numb, and she just lay there staring at the black sky. Out of the fog stepped a large figure. It was her mentor, Talon Darkhorn. His large, deep purple, bearded face looked down at his pupil, an expression of amusement on his face, like a parent would watch a curious child pick through the grass exploring a whole new world. "Solarinth, what happened to you child?" he said, his voice sounded far away and was hard to make out. "You have forgotten the reason you came to me, all those years ago, to train as a druid. I remember watching you during spars with classmates and cleansing sessions. You lacked the inner tranquil vale that your peers had inside them. No, inside of you was something else, fire. A burning inferno of passion. You seem to have lost your way… but this will make things clear." His last words echoed as the figure faded into the darkness. Solarinth was just about to close her eyes when a new figure appeared. He was clad in a large brown cloak, and he had a neatly trimmed golden yellow beard and hair. The man radiated a soft golden light which began to drive away the fog and darkness. Suddenly, she became aware of the immense pain she was in and she cried out. Through squinting eyes she saw him raise his hands and a golden aura began to encircle them. It looked like he was weaving with pure light. "Don't worry," the stranger said, his voice was strong, yet calming and soothing, "You'll be alright."


End file.
