Bretherezen's story. [edited: 1/1/14]

World’s End Tavern: Role-play and Fan Fiction
(The character originated as a Tauren, but I race changed him to Blood Elf for transmogrification purposes. He is, and always will be, to me a Tauren.)
Please keep the thread flame-free, derogatory and demeaning comments at the door, and please read and have fun to the best of your ability!
There is two versions of this story, but I like this next one a little better than the first. Also, feel free to post your own stories, or give me feed back as to what you think of mine. I know I have a long ways to go yet, but there is still much more to his story that I want to get done. Until I get this one done I am not comfortable going through with the other 4-5 mini-stories in my head (X.x).

Ctrl + F and search for a ' </> ' Underneath is where my last story update happened.

Without further ado, here it goes:

Foraging and hunting. These were the things I was raised to do; Things that I exceled at. I was trained on how to craft sturdy bows, create the base for arrows from twigs, and how best to grind high-quality arrow tips of varying quality and substance. Instructed on how to lace arrows with toxins to numb the muscles or slowly steal the life from my victims. I was told I am an excellent student and was able to combine my studies flawlessly. That is, at least, up to the point that my mentor passed away.

As fortune would have it I was thrust in to the day-to-day affairs of my peoples, the Tauren's, culture shortly after my mentor passed on, leaving me very little time to grieve. I was to go on the daily Hunt to gather food for my people in order to keep reserves in sufficient supply, and skins in a quantiful amount for trade or craft purposes. However, I cared not for these affairs. I cared only for the Hunt. The challenge of stalking prey, following the faintest of tracks and scents, and ultimately culminating in the successful killing of my target.

Some among the tribe would argue that I have failed to kill only one target, and that is the beast in which I chose to befriend. I argued in return: "I did not fail to kill this beast. I killed it as surely as I could kill you. You see, I broke the beast. I took it from its bestial nature and gave it a new purpose. Before she would hunt for only herself, thinking of only herself. Now she hunts for not only herself, but I and the clan. Rest assured, friends: I gave this creature a new life after killing its previous one." The beast I chose to befriend I named Snow. It was a white lynx with fangs as long as my forearm. Originally a weapon - a killing machine - she became a friend, an ally and a companion.

I was but a Tauren, 24 in age, when Jorn Skyseer, the leader of Camp Taurajo, called upon me to venture in to Razorfen Kraul within a select group of able-bodied Tauren. Our mission: Clear the Kraul of Quilboar.

The man to be leading the group was Kharhaz, a burly Warrior that would defend rather than attack. Word circulating around Camp Taurajo at one point in time said that he was "able to deflect any and all attacks with his shield, parry the swiftest of blades, and evade the most accurate of arrows." If not for having witnessed this man spar before, in a battle unfair for any one man, I would not have believed the over-exaggerated talk. The man was excellent at standing his ground and was able to overcome all contendors without taking a single blow to the body. I thought highly of his combat ability, but not only that, he had seen combat against the Quilbor before. In my eyes he was fit to lead.

Additionally there were the twin Druids: Lauka and Nakila. Lauka was the older sister and most adept at the shapeshifting forms of agile animals. She allowed her instincts and ferocity to determine her combat capabilities. Her younger sister, Nakila, was one of the most exceptional healers in all of Camp Taurajo. She found the ability to mend wounds and cure toxins (and some diseases) as natural to her as breathing air, and was one of the most adept healers in the Camp at the age of 20.
The final member was never determined, but I insisted that Snow not be counted off as a member of this group; She was as much a fighter as I was, and Kharhaz agreed - but only after staring in to her eyes, as if peering in to her very soul, for over half an hour. We were set to leave for camp immediately after if we were to return to the village before the break of dawn.

And so we left: Kharhaz, Nakila, Lauka, myself and Snow. Our destination set and our mission clear.

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We approached Razorfen Kraul in the dead of night. Kharhaz leading the group, and upon recommendation by him, we set camp not far from the entrance to the Kraul. Rugged, out-of-date tents, a small-log fire surrounded by small stones, a nice little straw bed nearby set for Snow, and 3 tree stumps to be used as seats comprised our camp. We brought no meat with us to the Kraul this night. Some of the Quilboar sentries are still awake and with their keen sense of smell, they would locate our roasting boar or slabs of steak within minutes. None of us felt like dealing with an ambush from the Quilboar this night, and so we stuck with bread as a meal. Snow, being a strict carnivore, was reduced to eating the local population of rat.

No words were exchanged. Instead, we sat around the campfire admiring the dead silence of night. Kharhaz seemed as though his passive nature was becoming irritable, the man was always honing his skills on something. I can see how he was becoming impatient for our rest to end and the battle to begin.

Lauka and Nakila were making themselves more 'presentable.' Stiching, patching holes in their leather armor I was alright with. I understood this much. What I didn't understand the reasoning behind was the braiding and brushing of hair. "To what purpose?" I asked myself as I watched them. "Why do your hair before a battle?" I pondered. All in vain. Instead I chalked one up for them being females, and this is a female thing.

Kharhaz heaved a deep grunt, and all turned to look at him. Writing in the ground in our language, Taur-ahe, he issued us to gather our things. "The tents shall remain, but we are setting out upon Snow's return. We will clear the Kraul and return to Taurajo before the 'morn."

We nodded in agreement. The Twins finished their business and Kharhaz grabbed his axe and shield. Lauka, prowling about, went to inspect the entrance to the Kraul one more time, and I went to retrieve Snow from her meal.

I returned with Snow, her teeth stained with the blood of rats and plugged with their fur. Nakila almost laughed at the gluttonous nature of my friend, and Lauka sighed. Kharhaz approached and we gathered in a circle around him. Faint whispers left his mouth: "We are all prepared?" I raised my bow ever so slightly, Snow and Lauka (still in her feline form) stretched, baring their claws and fangs, and Nakila gave a reassuring thumbsup.

The group was reassembled, our bellies full, our hair ready and our gear in shape. We were prepared.

Kharhaz approached the lit fire and drove his hoof down upon it. The fire flickered out and the darkness closed in on us. We all turned towards Razorfen Kraul and trecked forth.

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It had been hours since we entered the Kraul - far past the expected time we would be spending here. The Quilboar were far more numerous than we had known in their breeding grounds. Nevertheless, we have made it this far with little challenge. The Quilboar advisors lie dead, their subordinates either dead, fleeing the Kraul in terror, or hiding in the cracks of the cave. The only major threat left to the Quilboar still residing in Razorfen Kraul was a 'Charlga Razorflank.' If we brought her down... We would be free of Quilboar attacks coming from southern Taurajo.

Kharhaz snaps an arrow from his breastplate and presses his back against the cave wall. He turns his head and briefly looks around. Spotting nothing besides an open area wide enough for battle and a small hut, but the designated target not within sight. Sliding back and standing upright, he walked back to the shoddy bridge in which the rest of us
waited on.

"Reports we received from the scouts indicated that the area ahead is where Charlga resides. As noted in their report, there is a hut there." Kharhaz said, finishing with a snort. A wide grin forming across his face as his left hand tightens around the hilt of his axe, and his right hand around the handle of his shield. "She must be inside."
"Then we approach carefully." I reply. "If she is indeed in the building then we must find a way to draw her out." Looking around us, and down below the bridge, I return my sight to Kharhaz. "The Quilboar are small enough to fit three, maybe four of their bodies inside of these huts. We could only fit one."

Lauka and Nakila both nod in agreement.

Kharhaz loosens up and looks down at the ravine below the bridge, observing the size of the huts. He grunts and then turns around, taking a few steps forward. "Then let it be I who calls her out."

The twins, myself and Snow approve.

"As it goes without saying, she will be the strongest foe we have faced here. Do not let your guard down." Kharhaz adds with a cautious, yet serious tone. "Nakila, I expect you are rested by now and ready?" He asks.

With a deep breath, and closing her eyes, Nakila nods. "I am ready."

"Lauka?" Kharhaz asks, looking over his shoulder towards the scraped feline-form Tauren behind him.

"I am." She replies while lifting her right paw and extending her still sharp claw. "More than ready."

Kharhaz looks to myself. I notice his eyes squint, yet he does not ask. "I expect the bearer of 'Swiftarrow' to watch our backs."

Grunting, I raise my hand to my chest, bow in hand and brought my hooves closer together. Standing tall, bowing forward slightly. "Do not worry."

Kharhaz looks forward and holds his axe out ahead of him. "Let us go then."

We proceeded forth through the remainder of Razorfen Kraul, which consisted of a slow, bending turn to the left and a narrowing passage way. Kharhaz was leading, Lauka behind him, Nakila following her, and Snow in front of myself. Kharhaz set the pace slower and slower as we came nearer and nearer to the end of the passage. After a cautiously boring five minutes navigating this slow bend Kharhaz finally extended his right hand outwards - the signal to 'halt.' We waited as Kharhaz inched forward, hugging the wall. He leaned forward and peered out in to the opening beyond. He was barely visible to us; just his shield and half of his arm.

With no warning given Kharhaz charges forward.

Surprised, we rush. Lauka adeptly assumes her feline form in record time and disappears beyond the bend. Nakila and myself hear a shriek from beyond as we are charging forward. Charging, charging. We finally make it around.

Nakila quickly finds her way to her sister's side and begins to console her, trying to find the purpose behind her sister's tears and shuddering. Lauka slowly shifts out of her feline form and falls in to the arms of her sister.

Snow runs around swiftly and places herself between them and Charlga, and I make my way behind Lauka with my eyes set on who I presume to be Charlga.

"Charlga Razorflank. A stout, outwardly aged Quilboar." The report given by the advance scout led me to believe this was in deed her. She was old, yet it was not her age that captivated me - It was her cackling. Perhaps it was because I drowned out all other noise in the room, fixating on Charlga. As it went on and on it became all the more maddening. To what does she take such pleasure in I wondered. Then it hit me.

"Kharhaz..." I muttered under my breath. I did not see him. I looked at Charlga and found not a wound in sight. I looked at the ground beneath her as it was light near her feet, yet slightly seared in a radius around her. She did something; I deduced that much. But what? I looked to the right and noticed Kharhaz's shield upon the floor before I heard Nakila's voice call out to me, bringing me back to my senses.

My gaze darted down to my left as I approached Lauka, placing my left hand on her right shoulder as she is held in her sister's arms and bringing myself to my knee. Her hands covering her face as she sobbed."What is it, Lauka?" I asked. "Do you see Kharhaz?" I pleaded.

I watched as her right hand left her face. Her arm extending outwards and her index finger shaking as she cried. "T-t-there..." She says with a low, trembling voice.

My eyes looked to her shoulder, up her arm, over her hand then down and passed her finger. My eyes squinted as I looked in the pointed direction. There was debris piled up against the wall. My head rotated left, then right, then I turned and looked behind me. Nowhere Kharhaz seemed to be in sight. I turned and looked back towards the debris and broke in to a run, stumbling over as I left Lauka and Nakila's side.
Snow began to sniff the air. Her eyes glazed over and she began to scratch her claws lightly on the ground as she inched slowly towards the still cackling Charlga.

I made it to the debris and began pulling a large banner off first, ripping it against the jagged edges of wood. Once it was off I looked down and saw him - Kharhaz - laying against the wall. My heart sank for a moment as I noticed his axe halfway burried in his chest; a wooden log occupying the other half. Beneath him, and already reaching my feet, a trail of blood - his blood. I couldn't comprehend how a warrior with his ability was in this predicament, and how it happened so suddenly.

I kneeled beside him and began to pull what I could off of his body. As soon as I started to move a log resting over his legs and belly, he coughed. Frightened, I almost nicked the axe. I pushed the log forward, off of him, and rotated my body as fast as I could towards Nakila and Lauka. "It's Kharhaz, Nakila, come fast!" I yelled. This drew the attention of Charlga away from her sinister laugh and she began to take notice that the rest of us were actually here.

Nakila and Lauka looked towards Kharhaz. Lauka fell forward on her hands as soon as Nakila whisked herself forward and came to the side of Kharhaz within moments. Immediately she took note of his axe, but she did not seem lost in despair. She actually seemed to be relieved. I quickly looked down at Kharhaz and saw one of his eyes open as he began to faintly breath.

Nakila's right hand enveloped in a green glow as she looked at me, grabbed my chin in her left hand and turned me facing her staring me down. "I am going to remove the axe. You take care of the log. He will bleed all the faster once I remove it." She told me in the most serious tone I had ever heard from her. I gulped, nodded, and felt her hand leave my chin and rest a mere inch over the axe. Her eyes still on me, and mine on her.




She grabbed the axe in her hand and tossed it towards the entrance, a place she knew it could do no more harm, and immediately I heaved the log up and off of his chest. She plunged her hand down upon Kharhaz's gushing chest wound, immediately envolped her left hand in the same energy, and began to chant and pulse her power through him. Immediately I began to note her sweating. It was obvious it is taking everything she has to save his life, and yet immediately her powers seemed to be taking effect as I noticed the wound beginning to ever slowly pull together, and the blood - all of it that can - slowly seep back in to the wound. "The power of life" I thought to myself.

Lauka was sobbing yet, but she was no longer flowing with tears. She heard Nakila and knew Kharhaz was going to be fine.

Charlga began to step forward. She raised her left hand towards the sky as a quick shocks of lightning strikes her finger tip, arcing down her arm and culminating over her chest. She began to radiate electricity.

Snow begins to growl and my eyes quickly find themselves upon Charlga, then Snow, Lauka, and finally back down to Nakila and Kharhaz. I was somewhat level-headed, but it was apparent I and Snow were the only ones able to fight at the moment. Kharhaz was out of commission so Nakila was second-designated leader. She is too exhausted and busy at the current moment to lead - and so that left me in charge. Thinking quickly, I found myself with two options: Fight, or retreat.

Given the circumstances you would expect a retreat. But Charlga was infuriating - maddening. Our mission was to clear Razorfen Kraul and Charlga is the head. I chose to stay and fight.

I brought myself to my hooves and stood tall. I walked around Nakila and left her to tend to Kharhaz. Her breathing was begin to hasten, and already she was shaking her head to keep herself awake; She was exhausting herself at a breakneck pace to save him.

I kept my eyes on Charlga as I made my way to Snow and kneeled beside her. Charlga seemed to be focused on myself and Snow, but I noticed her sight run past me for a moment to Lauka and then back to myself again.

I began to whisper in to Snow's ear, covering my mouth with my hand. Snow began to calm down - the smell of blood brought out her sealed bestial nature, and it was not yet time to unleash it. I patted Snow on the head, scratched her ear and calmly raised myself up again. I gripped my bow firmly in my left hand, raised it outwards until it aligned with my chest, and reached to my quiver on my back - all while thinking of a plan. I tapped my finger on the tail end of my arrows until I felt a pointy end - Poison. I drew it out.
Oh my, Breth.
You ARE good. I like this.
I rested the small slit at the pointed end of the arrow along my bowstring and drew it back. The bow was bending, creaking. Snow's presence at my side faded as she began to move away from me. I raised the bow to the same level as my chest and took aim as Charlga stepped slowly towards me, still enveloped with lightning. I timed her steps and watched as Snow prowled in a wide circle behind her. She had covered nearly half of the distance when Snow was in place.

"Now!" I yelled as I released the arrow, immediately reached back for another arrow - but this time not poison. The poison arrow found it's mark in Charlga's chest a few centimeters to the right of her heart. She immediately ripped it out of her, but alas, all it takes is one moment and the poison is circulating within you. Already her movements slowed and she was unable to see the white flash of Snow leaping on to her back.

Charlga let off a quick screech as Snow dug her claws in, but this worked to momentarily weaken Snow and Charlga stopped, taking advantage of this weakness and let her upper body fall forward. Snow fell off of her and on to the floor then was swept aside with a harsh swing of a staff. I drew my next arrow back and aimed for the legs.

Charlga stood erect and stared in to my eyes. She waited and I fired. The arrow swiftly covered the distance between us, but as I was reaching for my next arrow I was struck with confusion as I watch it deflect mid-flight. She began to cackle as I drew my next arrow and fired again and again only to see them bounce off the air around her. Baffled, I fired again and again.

Lauka stared on in confusion, attempting to discern the reasoning behind my misguided arrows. She looked to Snow and made her way over, crawling, attempting to keep the attention from Charlga from her.

Charlga began to close the distance between us. In my confusion I forgot about the traps I had prepared and began to launch my quiver of arrows hastily. Charlga grew nearer, and as she did, I noticed the poison from my arrow leaving her wound. I was backpeddling and nearing a wall when I watched as Charlga mustered forth even more lightning and concentrated it in her hands. She brought them together and launched it towards me. Barely, I dodged. My mind still in confusion from whatever trickery is being used to avoid my arrows.

My dodging was poor. My mind was confused, and my quiver was empty. I had lost track of where I was dodging to and fro, and found my back against the wall. I quickly looked forward again at Charlga. Already she had launched her next bolt, and already it was unavoidable. I was struck and my body went numb for a moment. Again she launched a bolt; again it was unavoidable. I took bolt after bolt. My body numbed, my body unable to move. She knew this and tortured me with a few more bolts before approaching me. By the time she arrived I was laying back against the wall unable to move.

My eye sight failing, I looked to my left. Nakila was preparing Kharhaz for transport. She seemed not to notice everything going on with the rest of us in her attempt to save his life. I then attempted to look right but found Charlga staring me in the face. I tried to talk, to say my last words, but I began to black out.

Charlga raised her staff as she began to laugh triumphantly. She was reveling in the fact that she was (and this is what she thought) going to kill a second Tauren. She looked down at me and began to thrust the staff downwards on to me. The last thing I remember seeing is a bear. A bear launching it self over Charlga just before the staff impaled me. I finally blacked out.

Before I fell unconscious I heard the screams of Charlga, the splashing of blood. The raking of claws against metal and the snapping of jaws. Snow was snarling and Lauka was roaring. Everything was silent after that.


Charlga lay dead in a pool of blood no more than twice my arm length away. She had been clawed, bitten and stabbed to death by Snow and Lauka - both locked in a rage until she drew her last breath.

Nakila had tended to Kharhaz, his life not in immediate danger, yet still needing healing for the rest of the wound she is unable to do herself. She mended it as best as she could, but it is not such a wound that one healer can recover on her lonesome. She had him on a stretcher near awaiting to be taken back to the village.

Lauka had treated my most immediate injuries, but was rushed to the side of Nakila in order to transport Kharhaz. Her bear form had the muscle to pull him back to the village and he needed vastly more medical attention than I.
>_>... It can be better.

Everything in the world can be better. But this is great. I like this.
Patting Snow on the head and scratching her ear, Nakila bending down over her shoulder, she whispers. "You look after him, okay? He will wake up soon, but we have to go ahead of you." Leaning forward and kissing Snow on the forehead, she looks to me for a moment before being taken away by her sister.

I was only slightly awake at that moment, but my vision was still gone and my body had yet to come back to my control.

It was hours later that I awoke to the touch of a rough tongue licking my left cheek. I forced my eyes open and groaned before coughing. Slowly, achingly, I rose my hands to my head and fell to my side. My body was no longer numb, but now I was subject to what pain was left from before. My eyes were open and my vision was still yet blurry, but I was able to see a mass of white in front of my face. Before I knew it, it nudged me. I recognized her instantly from smell, but not being able to see her form clearly bothered me. Not only was my vision only partially restored, but I was unable to think clearly. Trying to recall memories hurt and I suspected it had something to do with the battle.

I groaned and placed my hands flat on the floor under me and pushed myself off the ground. I raised a knee under me and wobbled a bit. Snow was quick to nudge me towards the wall, and I used it to help me on to my hooves. "Thank you." I said with a painful groan as I struggled to stand up. I then felt the slapping of wood against the back of my leg, and then my back. I looked down and focused as best as I could and made out what appeared to be something in Snow's mouth. I reached out for it and she placed it in my hand. I kneeled down for a moment to rest my weak muscles and began to recognize this wood as my bow. Undamaged, unscathed. It had survived the battle.

I reached out my hand once more and found Snow nudging her head against my palm. I smiled and began to scratch her around her ears as she began purring. "What would I ever do without you?" A smile formed across my face as I closed my eyes. I began to try and focus my senses on hearing.

"There are no Quilboar that remain... And... I hear no sound of hooves, or heavy armor..." My eyes still closed I turned my head down towards Snow. "They made it o-" Then it struck me, a memory. More painful than my wounds and de-numbing muscles. "Kharhaz!" I cried. "How could I have forgotten?" I stood my bow out in front of me and leaned on it. It was made of sturdy, yet decently flexible wood comparable to the metals used in chainmail and I remember using white ash to cover the wood. I used it as a walking stick; first to get to my feet, secondly to hobble my way out of Razorfen Kraul.

It seemed to take forever as I took periodic breaks and rests every tens of feet. Snow would lick one of my wounds, purr, rub against me, then help me to my feet again. It was at least an hour and a half long trip from that old [dead] hag's hut to the mouth of the Kraul. Then I found myself in even more pain as my eyes were flooded with light. It may not have been so bad if it was just my eyes adjusting from dark to light, but I also had my impaired vision problem backing it up. Slowly it was coming back to me, but it seemed to hinder the recovery going from dark to light.

I kneeled down and raised my hand out. Snow found her way under my hand as I stroked her softly. "I need you to be my eyes out here, okay girl? I still can't see worth a damn and... Well, to be honest, I have never had to rely on only two senses. Can you be extra cautious, for me, as we make it back to camp?" I asked of her, to which she replied with deep, harmoneous purring and licking my hand. I smiled and nodded. "Thank you, Snow."

I raised myself erect and found myself hunching over on to my bow again. I was still not yet strong enough to stand tall. I kept my eyes on Snow as she slowly proceeded forward, carefully monitoring where I was following her from and moving to avoid things such as roots or vines across the ground that I may easily trip over in my condition.
Many stumbles and minutes later, we crossed the bend of Razorfen Kraul that led to the main road. Turning and facing Northward I look towards the sky. My eye immediately caught the sight of a dark black smoke stack rising in the distance, from the looks of it, from Taurajo Village.

"What the...." Immediately I began to hurry my pace, my eyes turned to the ground beneath me as I watched my step. Snow retreated to my side, watching me and helping me along.

As I approached the Village my eyes rest on the stack of smoke. It was large, wide. It wasn't from any one small fire, that much was for certain. I made the extra effort to climb one of the small hills overlooking Taurajo and I devastated. The Village abandoned, the huts burning. Scattered about the Village lie many of the Elders, my friends; my family. Outraged, bewildered, my roar sounded in the vicinity.

I rushed down to the Village and noticed several humans leaving the main hut, the hut of Jorn Skyseer. They were laughing, cheering. Having a good time. My heart was pounding, my arms and legs not moving. Tears flowed from my eyes and I found it hard to do anything but clench my teeth. It took a moment but they noticed me. They immediately dropped their things and began to rally shouting things like: "We got ourselves another one, boys!" and "My oh my this one is big!" Slowly they approached me, their weapons drawn and their clothes stained with blood or charred from the fires.

I looked around frightened. Never before had I imagined this would happen again - again my family lay dead before me. Byula, the lively and caring keeper of the Inn, dead right outside of the Inn. Kelsuwa, the very man that taught me how to care for my companions lay dead right beside his own. I looked back towards the Humans approaching me cautiously, still their weapons drawn. Quickly my frightened demeanor turned over in to one of anger. Drawing my bow and arrow, Snow leaps forward in to the crowd using her sharp claws and piercing fangs to tear her way through as I began to mindlessly string along a flurry of arrows.

Minutes later, they lay dead. Snow covered in blood, the most of which resides on her paws and in her mouth. Gagging, she makes her way over to a small reserve of water and begins to soak the blood out of her fur, her ears raised and alert.

Frantically I began to look around the Village, running from hut to hut. "Where is he? Where?!" To no avail was I able to find him.

"Brother!" I cried out in the center of the village.

I fell to my knees, depressed. A few moments later I felt Snow nudging her way under my arm. Weakly, I began to stroke her. "Omusa is gone... H-He's not here..." Snow sat on her rear and began to lick at my face. Lightly pushing her away, I began to shed tears. "My brother is not here..." Looking about the ransacked camp with weary eyes I began to sob and sniffle, I hang my head low and lay on the ground. Curling my legs in to my chest and holding them, I closed my eyes and began to cry aloud for my fallen brethren.

I had not realized it then, but I drifted away that night. I drifted away from the physical realm and in to a dream realm. In that realm I had visions, many visions, too many for my mind to comprehend - or remember. However, one of them was imprinted on my mind and one that I will not soon forget.

Blinking, I opened my eyes. I lay my right hand on the ground before me and pushed myself off of the ground. Sitting, I blinked. I looked at my surroundings and instantly recognized it as Taurajo Village. Dumbfounded, I raised myself to my feet. The village was intact, no longer ransacked but none of my brethren were anywhere to be found, no noise being made, no air blowing on my face, no heat from the bonfire burning nearby. It was cold; lifeless.

I rotated my head, and my body followed. I spun round and round. "How could this be? Where am I? What is this place?" I called out in my mind seeking answers. I was confused. I was alone.
Just when I began to think I was trapped in a world unknown, I began to hear chanting. I began to hear prayer and chatter. I quickly spun around and beheld the image of my brethren, my clansmen. It was the villagers! My family, but in spirit.

I could see them, but I could not. Their bodies were mere spiritual manifestations of how I perceived them in life. They no longer had a body. I looked down towards my hooves and inspected myself. I very much had a body and felt the life coursing within me. "Just what is this?" I continued to wonder.

I raised my head and watched on as they celebrated, praising and cheering. It was around the time of year for the Dance of the Earthmother; a celebration unique to the Tauren that changes depending on the time of year. The season transition being from Winter to Spring, they are gorging themselves with the remaining food in supply for the Village as to help usher forth the new season entire.

I was hesitant at first, still dumbfounded with what is occuring before me, but I proceeded forth. My hooves made no sound as I stepped in this realm, but it was as if they resonated the loudest as my brethren stopped and rotated themselves to look at me. They stopped with the celebration and appeared to be struck with as much disbelief as I was. It was then that I heard the booming voice of Jorn Skyseer sounding from the direction of the building to my right, the largest building in the village. My brethren rotated their heads to see him before turning back to myself.

I knew Jorn Skyseer to be alive, so how is it he is here? Was this not a realm of the dead? Am I dead?

"Come, Tahk." Jorn says while turning and entering the building.

I look left towards the villagers, my family, back towards Jorn and proceed forth. Entering the building I find Jorn standing in the center, a mat laid out before him. "Sit, Tahk, and listen." He asked of me and I obeyed. I took my seat before him and looked at him, my face riddled with bewilderment. We were both silent, but Jorn folded his arms and waited until the moment I was about ready to speak.

Cutting me off immediately, he spoke, "I know what you wish to ask, Tahk. Where are you? What are you doing here?"

I nodded and stayed silent as I looked about the room, then halfway back to the door before he began speaking again. I turned back and listened, "You are in the Spirit World. Your emotions seem to have drifted your subconscious here." He raised his arms outward, "It is here that we go when we die, it is here that we remain after death. What you see is 'life after death.'"

I narrowed my eyes and listened on, "But you are not dead yet, neither am I. I am here through other means. You are here unintentionally and upsetting this plane. We must set you back. You will come here when it is your time, so worry not for your brothers and sisters."

I attempted to raise myself to my hooves, but before I could do so, Jorn drew from his person a stick radiating energy and struck me down with it. Almost instantly it seemed as if everything collapsed in on it self and I was engulfed in darkness.
I was sleeping.

It was to be nearly a weeks time before next I awoke. I had, in my slumber, overheard many conversations about the room - most of them centered on my well being. But why, I wondered? Why am I important? What makes me so special? From time to time I found myself blinking lightly, my eyes adjusting to the room but only for a brief moment before the light flooded in to them; blinding me and forcing my eyes closed with a groan as I shoved myself over to the side of the bed. This, of course, caused the one tending to me to enter the room - allowing even more light in - and blinding me all the more.

Thankfully, some times I did wake were briefly at night, in the dark. The Darkness. So much darkness. I had begun to fall in to the engulfing shadows, seeking to be pulling in and consumed. Anything to fill the holes left in my heart created just days ago. Whenever I ate, or drank, breathed, blinked, slept or anything other than cried it felt like I was numb.

Nevertheless, I dredged on. I carried myself to the edge of my confines - my bed - and proceeded to quickly turn my back to the door as soon as the smallest creep of light seeped in through the crack. I began to hate that cheery light. I began to resent it. Everything - Nay, nay... Nearly... "Nearly... everything..." I thought to myself.

"No. Not everything. Not everything at all... Only... Some. Most. I still have... something... to hold on to..." Is what I wanted to say, or atleast, gurgitate. I was still weak from barely eating, or drinking. My body was weak and barely able to pronounce a word.

I closed my eyes and drifted away to a dream. A happy place inside of my consumed mind, a small, simple light remaining among the ocean of darkness enveloping it. I reached out and grabbed it, drew it in close and pressed it against my chest as if it were a keepsake; a remembrance. I began to feel... Different... As if the energy that had left my body had suddenly began returning all at one time, invigorating my weakened body and bringing life back where nearly none was to be found. I began to feel... Hope.

Just at the height of that warm, tingling feeling, I found myself awakened by a small insignificant noise. My eyes slowly opened as my consciousness creeped forward from my subconscious and realized I was laying on my back. I rotated my head towards the door and closed my eyes, still fearing the light. Dimly, I opened them. Ever more so slowly opening my eyes. It no longer caused me pain. In fact, it seemed to help. With my eyes half open absorbing the light, I rotated my head towards the table beside my bed and found laying there a bushel of appels and a large pouch of water.

Easily missed in my weakened condition, the door flew open as somebody walks out filling the room with a seemingly unimaginable amount of light. My eyes were illuminated, basking in the light. More so, it seemed to affect me to the core of my being. I wanted to see more of it, that light, but the door swung shut and there it remained until morning.
The bushel of apples, as well as the water, was gone by morning.


It would be several more days of silence in my room. No words spoken from my mouth, nor the one caring for my well-being knowing when I was to be awake, or asleep. I had decided to recuperate and move on, and I began doing so that night with the dream of overwhelming light. I had taken it as a sign and I was going to act upon it.

It was nearly three weeks time - a near month - after I first woke in this small, confined room before I began trying to speak. My first guttural words I thought were going to be my last. I had tried to utter the word, "Water", but instead began to cough on my words. At that time I thought I was going to die. Not by the coughing, but by whom entered the room upon hearing my coarsed throats crying.

No more than had I heaved my first cough did I find the door slinging open. I tilted my head in the door's direction, but with nobody in sight I thought it merely the wind as I heaved and coughed a second time before finding myself beset upon by the furious licking(kissing) of a feline. Wearily fighting to keep the large cats savage attacks at bay, the leather door slid to the side and through it materialized a rather familiar face.

Among my coughing and struggling, I tried to call her name: "Nakila!"
She found me struggling against this beast and quickly called it off of my bed and to her side. Nakila stepped forward and began talking of how relieved she was to see me well, eating, drinking and at least flopping around on my bed at night like a fish. She brought with her a bucket of water and cloth and used it to cleanse me in bed as she continued speaking.

No more than did she finish and I found the beast at my bedside. The felines ears slowly began rising in to the blurry peripheral vision of mine and slowly began to encompass my normal vision. It was not until the cats face was in front of mine that the beast licked my nose and I realized just who it was.

"Snow!" I attempted to exclaim, but found myself coughing and wheezing all the more. Nakila brought me more water after that and refrained me from eating anymore apples, much to my dismay as I was beginning to like the fruit. Snow jumped on to my bed and lay at my side, her head resting on my shoulder. I wearily petted her belly a time or two before I yawned and fell asleep once more.

I awoke before dawn the next morning. Snow was laying on the floor asleep when I rose. I was determined to stand beside my decision that today would be the day I stop lazing around. I brought myself to a sit on my bed and rotated so that I am sitting on the edge with my hooves just touching the floor, but no applied force yet. I waited for a few moments, thinking, mustering the effort it would require to stand on my own two legs after all this time; just over a month since I had last moved beyond the confines of my bed.

I narrowed my eyes and drew in a deep breath of air. Grunting, I applied all of the energy I could to my arms and legs, not caring for balance, and began to slowly rise to my hooves. Snow was winking awake after I grunted and groaned as I raised myself, but not caring for balancing myself - as standing was triumphant enough - I began to stumble forward. Snow looked over and quickly darted underneath me, locking her legs and pushing upward as I fell over on top of her; she had saved me from quite an ungraceful and embarrassing fall, but I hadn't even the slightest worry on my face. In fact, I looked quite accomplished as Nakila walked in to the room moments later shrieking in terror.

"W-What is going on?!" She exclaimed, dropping a wet rag and basket on the ground as she rushed to my aid. Taking me at the shoulders, she lifted me to my hooves - off of Snow's back - and rested my rear on the bed. I grunted and rolled my eyes, averting them elsewhere as she began to scold me. A proud and accomplished grin remaining faintly on my face.

Snow began to inch herself towards me, weary of Nakila as her voice was booming across the room. She reached my bedside in moments and promptly jumped to my side, laid down and rested her head in my lap. I brought my hand upon her head and soothingly rubbed my finger tips between her ears as I tuned Nakila out. Snow was purring under my hand.

Nakila continued on, scowling and screaming at me for my foolishness in my weakened state, for nearly five minutes as she checked to see if I had not re-opened any wounds. Satisfied that I had not, she closed her eyes and sat back uttering a sigh of relief as she does. Rotating my head and looking her in the eyes, she at mine, I looked back at Snow. Nakila, displeased, thumps me on the top of my head.

"Ow!" I shouted as I looked at her, bringing my hand to the source of my current pain.

"It serves you right, you moron." She says as she points at me, scowling and yelling again. "You could have hurt yourself, or worse, reopened your wounds and then spent even longer on bed rest than you already have! Really, what were you even thinking - if at all?"

I scoffed and turned away, "You wouldn't understand."

"Men and their pride. What's not to understand? You're all fools I say!" With that she threw her hands up and left the room, looking back and uttering her last words under her breath before she goes. "You are a fool."

Snow looked up to me as I hanged my head low. Nakila's words struck deeply, as if in to my very being; my essence; my soul. Snow licked the back of my hand and nuzzled her way in to the palm. I lightly rubbed my fingers between her ears for a few moments before I layed gently down on to my back, my legs bent over the side of the rugged and musty bed. For many months it has been my home and for a while longer it shall remain. Snow brought her head from my lap and lay half over my chest, her purring harmoniously resonating in my ears. My eyes gently closed as I drifted to sleep.
Chapter (placeholder):


I woke during the cold still of night. My stomach began rumbling and growling instantly; I was hungry. I began to sniff the air and caught the scent of fresh apples - my main meal in recent times. Following the scent, I rotated my head on the hay pillow to the right and beheld the visage of a bushel of apples resting neatly on the side table next to the bed. Grunting, I placed my hands at my side and pushed myself up from the bed and sat for a few moments. The sheets no longer covered me, and I received a cold chill as the wind blew through the opening in the ceiling of the hut. I rotated on my rear and scooted to the edge of the hay bed. I put my hooves to the floor and rested my hands beside me on the bed as I sat there, eyes closed and head lowered, lost momentarily in thought.

Autonomously, I reached forward to the bed-side table and took an apple in my hand. Bringing it to my mouth, I sank my teeth in to the soft-engineered skin of the apple and bit from it. The inside was moist and added sustenance necessary for I at the time. My mouth watered as I continued to take bite after bite of the apple, eating it to the core and continuing on with the next apple in the basket until I had my fill.

My rushed chomping of apples led to some of it ending up on my beard and ragged braids, moisture dripping from my lips downward as some of the apple it self was captured in my beard hair. I stroked the beard with my hair and pulled some of it free. Looking at it momentarily in my hand, I threw the chunks of apple to the floor. I glanced about the room. My first observation noticing Snow was not inside. My second was when I looked from the floor towards the door and observed my gear neatly placed beside it; My bow unharmed and my quiver, with few remaining arrows, laying beside it. The rest of my belongings were on the armor stand, and upon closer fixation and inspection, was repaired and ready for further use.

I grunted as I placed my hands beside me on the bed and pushed, raising myself from the bed and staggered lightly as I brought myself to my hooves. My legs remained in a weakened state, not yet able to fully support my added body mass over the two months of bed rest. The finely-tuned muscle that I had felt like mush; weak and useless to me. Nearly tripping over the flat earth beneath my hooves, I trekked forward from the bedside and moved towards the brown lynx-skin door of the hut, carefully placing my next step one after another with my eyes fixed forward.
Brethz...I love you... An excellent story...short story writing is a very hard thing to have nailed it well...the whole thing fits together beautifully and you didnt rush the ending either...and the real biggy is you wrote about what you know...always a bonus.
The only complaint I have is I cant find a way to print it off for my son, who loves writing and is rather good at it but still needs to work on it...he wants to do creative writing at university
I am very proud of you....:) well done.... no ...brilliantly done
Both stories stand alone well...just polish it...which is check spelling and punctuation ... you start fiddling and changing you may spoil it..both versions are excellent...sighs I really need my son to read this
Damn Blizz needs to make a printer friendly version for stuff like this
I assume you have saved all this...when next I am in game I shall talk to you
Short story writing is the toughest form of writing there is. It's hard to get characters fleshed out beyond the "cardboard" stage when you're limiting your word count, and plot twists can fizzle to nothing, or become transparent. A lot of well-known pros wouldn't even try it for those reasons. It takes a knack, which you have. Well done indeed.
Already commented, did like. So here's mine, take a gander.

I was beginning to regret coming back to this wretched place. The further I journeyed into the deserted town, the stronger the presence those awful memories gripped my mind and clouded my senses. An icy chill rolled through the area as my trembling hands struggled to balance the weight of my heavy rifle, and not a sound could be heard. This was Barrowshire, the place of my origin, and the origin of the evil that followed my soul for the entirety of my miserable existence. Ruined by scourge attacks from long ago, remnants of the buildings that were once familiar to me as a child stood as an everlasting reminder of the terrifying power that was the Lich King’s might. I came to the merchant’s shop, where an old man once sold me bows and arrows. Through the window’s reflection I saw nothing but the eyes of the devil. Could it truly be, that this cursed man was once an innocent boy?

A rustle came from behind me. I snapped back to awareness and, I turned, bringing the scope of my gun up to my eyes. A light red fog surrounded my person, but still I was able to see whatever might have been lurking from the bushes. Time seemed to stop as I simply waited, and rested my finger on the trigger. Finally, I saw movement in one of the shrubs and fired a concussive round, and a figure flew out of the foliage and bounced against the crooked fence, and onto the floor. Instantly, I lowered my weapon and rushed to see what it was. In a moment of confusion, I had been met with a friendly face.

A dwarf. He groaned. “Oy... a little quick to the trigger there, eh lad?” I grabbed his hand to help him up off the cracked cobblestone path. “Tarvel! What on earth are you doing in this forsaken ruin?” I inquired. He dusted himself off and looked at me with a sad expression while replying, “only diggin’ up some old artifacts, lad. Why are ye’ so tense? Ye’ look like ye’ve seen a ghost!” I sighed, and looked upwards at the darkened sky. “I’m sorry. I don’t have time to explain, Tarvel. It’s something... deeply personal.” Looking back down at him, I remarked, “and I don’t want you getting your fingers in it, like with everything else that I do.” He frowned and replied, “I don’t mean any harm, lad. Anything that’s wrong, I can help with.” I could not help but be irritated with his lack of understanding, and replied, “please. My task is one that must be done in solitude, I cannot have you interfere.”

I turned around and walked along the road, and Tarvel began to follow me. Angrily, I shouted, “go on, follow me, but I will have to shoot you where you stand.” His expression became more sorrowful, like a rejected dog. Tarvel sauntered away into the distance. Before he left my peripheral, he turned around and gave me a blessing, allowing strength to flow through my veins. Finally I began to continue. My thoughts returned to the town and its history, while I loaded another bullet into my weapon. The very road I stand on... I could hardly believe how familiar it felt, though it’s been decades since I ran through here, escaping my home. Home. Why do I still call it this?

In the distance began to appear the house of my childhood. I winced at seeing it once again, and I could feel nothing but pain. The trees were shriveled and black, the boards of the house were dark and weathered, and crows glided about in small groups. The light of the moon seemed to dim as I made my approach, and the footsteps began to echo off the woods as I reached the bottom of the first step at the porch. I reached under my brown and beaten breastplate and pulled out a rusted pendant containing the image of my dear younger sister, crafted by a travelling artist from Lordaeron long before I fled this cursed place. Heila, how could I have abandoned you? So undeserving am I, that I left you and all the townsfolk to die, when I could have warned you all what was coming...

Swallowing regret, I paced up the steps, which creaked loudly. I was afraid that they would collapse under the weight of my armor, but they managed to hold. The door was torn open, and the inside was pitch black. Stumbling about, I dropped a flare that illuminated the small and dank room. Spiderwebs coated the cracked stone by the fireplace, and the floorboards were broken and brittle. All that was left aside from the walls, floor, and dusty ceiling were aged and empty barrels and boxes. There was a trap door in the back left corner of the room from where I was standing, and I began conjure thoughts of what could await me underneath. I shook my head to refocus, and looked at the pendant which remained in my hand. Delicately, I removed with care the carving of Heila’s image to reveal a key inside. The trap door squeaked and took a bit of effort to open, but once I had done it, I saw only more blackness staring back at me.
There was a ladder, and I went to climb it. I scaled the ladder, and the way down was much longer than I had remembered. It began to shake, and finally collapsed. I hit the solid ground with a heavy thud, and the trap door closed. I couldn’t see a damn thing. I reached for another flare, but my pouch containing them was empty. I cursed, and tried to get up, raising one side of my body first. My vision eventually adjusted, and I scanned the room for what I was looking for.

Then... a growl. I panicked. Something left from the attack? I looked around the room, but I could not make out where it came from. I raised my rifle quickly while my heart pounded powerfully, and my eyes went darting all over my surroundings. Before I could move, a giant body leaped on to me and thrashed me repeatedly. The pain was unbearable, and I felt blood gushing out from the damaged parts of my armor. Darkness began to further blur my vision, and I felt the life slipping away from my body.

Then, a blinding flash of light soared through the room. A shield came before me, and I felt strong again. “Get up lad, the beast ain’t gonna wait for ye’!” It was Tarvel, and I could do nothing but thank the light for a few brief moments as I searched for my rifle on the floor. I lifted it up and tried to line up a shot. In the brilliant luminance of Tarvel’s radiant light, I shot an explosive round at the demonic monster that I could at last see. Limbs flew about, and the creature fell over with a hard crash. It screamed while it struggled on the floor, and eventually slowed down and stopped moving.

I caught my breath, and muttered, “...thank you.” Tarvel smiled for the first time since I saw him, and I continued toward the back of the room. I was disappointed when I found nothing, and sat down to contemplate my situation. Tarvel noticed this, and began poking about the room. I was not happy with him exploring a room that housed so much of the agony in my childhood, but the emptiness consumed me and I could not resolve to stop him. Suddenly, he yelled, “over here, lad! There’s a pendant hanging from this nail!” A pendant? I got up and ran over to where Tarvel was standing, near one of the ruined boards that made up the walls of this room.

I did not know what to expect when I removed the pendant from the place in which it rested, but curiosity had opened it without hesitation. There was a folded note inside, which I took out and began to read.

Brother, it has been so long since I’ve been able to speak to you. Mother and father... they are long gone. I’ve heard stories about your adventures, and I could hardly believe what they were telling me when they mentioned your name. My first thought was that you had been lost wandering about the woods, but you loved those woods... didn’t you? You could never have missed your way back home. You left us, brother. All of us, to die. How could you be so selfish? Have you ever thought about how much I might have cried for you and our parents? How our family was torn apart, piece by piece? ...There are no more words to be said between us. I am going to find you, and I am going to kill you for leaving us. I am glad you had slain my felguard. I now know exactly where you are. I’ll see you soon, brother.

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