Conquest of the Horde

It was raining, yet again. The low rumble emitting from the clouds that plagued the sky like a coating of smoke. The young Squire, clad in evening wear. watched the falling liquid trickle its way down to Azeroth from a window, seeing it slide across the glass. We will move in on the flank, forward Crusaders! For the Light! Few people bothered to attend to daily matters during the downpour, a few of the Forsaken that still remained in the city were making their rounds, kindly offering to fetch something for others. Baidin leaned against the thick wall, a slow exhale passing through his nose. The Light will show no mercy to those that flee! Fight on, you cowards! They will not have this keep while we still draw breath! He closed his eyes, raising a hand to rub at his bagged eyes.

They were everywhere. Scarlets and Argents alike, slaughtering each other, and the bodies just piled around them. Screams never left the air untouched, the ground ran red with blood. His own hand killed the brainwashed soldiers, loyal to the Light, but were simply misguided. He murdered them. Why couldn't he show them the right path?

Baidin stirred as the front door suddenly flung open, expecting it to be one of the Forsaken. However, a woman quickly stepped in side, clad in a royal blue robe, hood up to cover her head. The cloth was soaked by the rain, as well as the satchel she had slung cover her shoulder. Calia brushed her fingers down her head, sending the hood to collect at her back. She flashed a smile towards Baidin, "Sorry it took me so long." Baidin just grinned, and the pair rushed together in a firm, friendly embrace. Calia just laughs, patting the squire on the back. "It's been far too long since I've seen you, and Hearthglen." Baidin holds his smile, though he releases his arms around her to take a step back. The Light will show no mercy to those that flee! He eyed the satchel for a moment, before stating, "It's good to see you too. Come, come on in, make yourself at home. I'm renting out this house till I decide what else to do, the Crusade may still have work for me."

The priestess smiled, brushing her blonde hair out of her eyes. "Thank you, cousin. You've been well, I take it? I heard of the siege..." Her eyes cast downward for a moment, as Baidin simply glances to the side. "Yeah." he bitterly replied, biting at his bottom lip. Calia returned from the Scarlet Crusade, nearly a year ago. The Argents had saved them from the Forsaken that planned to slaughter them, yet, she was still a Scarlet. How did she convert, while so many didn't?

"Oh, thank the Light, then. Your mother and I were so worried for you. Your father, of course, was confident in you. I've brought some clothes from your mother, and..." She smirked, simply setting the bag onto the table. "Some snacks." Baidin perked up at this, unable to resist the temptations of gluttony. He started to dig into the satchel, peering through it to fish out a bag of mixed nuts. He dug his hand into the leather pouch, popping a few in his mouth. "Thmamks." he said, muffled by the chewing. The priestess giggles quietly, leaning against the edge. "So, you're going to the festival with Annabelle? Mother told me about her, did you know she was among the Argents that saved-"

Baidin cut her off midway, nodding his head several times. "Yeah, she's real excited to meet you." He blushed, however, with the comment about the festival. Calia grinned at him, folding her arms together as she tilts her head to the side. "You like her, don't you?" Baidin frowned in return, quickly saying, "Noo!.. Well, we're going as friends." His face grew redder, as the woman just stares at him unrelentingly. "Okay, okay, I do. I mean, why wouldn't I? She saved me from being someone's slave, she's funny, cute, interesting, smart... She's just a nice person to be around." Calia raised an eyebrow at the first item to the list. "She saved you too, huh? I figure we're both in debt to her. Maybe we should return the favor sometime, hm?"

Baidin just sighs, running his fingers through his thick brown hair. "Who would want to hurt her? I don't want to wish ill to fall upon her, either way. She's missing an arm, for Light's sake. I think she's suffered enough." The priestess purses her lips into a frown, sending a worried look towards the squire. "Missing an arm?.. She had both of them when I saw her. That's terrible." The boy merely shrugs, sliding a hand into a pant pocket. "She has a metal arm, now. Not sure how it really works, but she seems to get by just fine."

Calia nods silently, as they both fall quiet for a time, both lost in their own thoughts. Suddenly, Calia butts in, "... So, this Castor you wrote about... How is he?" She smiled a bit, coyly.

The pair drift off to several discussions, both catching each other up on the events that have occurred. The rain slowly fades away, the light from the sun breaking through the blockade of the clouds to shine weakly on the city of Hearthglen.

The elf stood there, idly, entertaining herself by a series of finger taps against her knuckles. A practiced pattern, completed without a second thought. The love festival twirled around her lone figure, couples of all races mingling and enjoying themselves. A few were more passionate and took to partly hiding their affections for each other. Noria’s gaze trailed over the crowd, a slow exhale managed to calm her slight anxious feeling that bubbled in her stomach. Need to leave. Was the only thought that screamed across her mind, she was uncomfortable and exposed to everyone. Too many variables that could change, she was not in control of the situation. She had already brushed off a troll and a few elves to attempt to strike up a discussion. The doctor glanced down at the rather slim dress that covered much less than what she desired. It was gathering attention, but not the kind she wanted. Her eyes flicked back up to view a human who stood directly in front of her.

The man seemed young, mid-twenties. He was dressed in the standard black suit that fits most wealthy gentlemen, though far too many that wore such clothing was related to ill mention practices. His broad hat covered his brow, leaving only fatigued, drained hazel eyes and a crazed smile. The black beard that covered the lower half of his face was neatly trimmed and kept in fair condition. His bare olive hand was offered, and she accepted with one of her own. They two embrace each other in a slow dance, the hands held as Noria placed her free hand onto his shoulder, and the human placed his onto the elf’s waist. They sway back and forth, the human pressing his mouth to Noria’s large ear.

“I’ve gotten your notes on the targets. They’ll be extracted soon. Your cut will be given once the ransoms have been paid… Or, whenever they are bought by new owners.”

The Sin’dorei nodded softly, placing her chin onto Redis’s shoulder, whispering back in her own hushed tone, still acting along.
“The girl will be easy to snatch tonight, and everything is set for the elf. There’s a noble Sin’dorei that you can snag, however, she’s appeared to have left onto a well-guarded boat. Collecting her would be impossible unless she managed to present herself in Silvermoon, or Eversong.”

Redis tilts his head forward and to the side, planting brief kiss onto her brow. “Mm, two will be enough for now. We’ll explore other methods afterward. See you in two days.” The human quickly slips from dance position, strolling off towards the exit of the festival, shoving his hands into his pockets. The elf was simply left there, a frown crossing her lips as she links her fingers together, returning to idly watch the others about here.

Damn fool is going to step on one too many toes. I hope I will be far enough away to avoid the complete annihilation of his being.

The man was exhausted. While his flashy show at the wedding seemed like nothing, it nearly drained him of most of his reserves. Redis lacked his hat now, merely sitting in his chair as he glanced about his small little room. Nothing kept him company but the dead. Even Jany was at the bar, most likely looking for a man to share the night with.

A torrent of memories flood his mind. Images of a little boy, a little Redis, alone in a library filled with books. Knowledge was all around him, and he was quite delighted to explore every inch of the texts. However, the image was interrupted by a skeleton. Greater than a skeleton, a full fledged Lich. Mist trickled from its ribs as it led a vast undead army over a plain field, charging into what appeared to be a demonic version of the Necromancer. Twisted horns sprout out from his forehead, sharpen claws and a wide spread of wings allowed him to take flight, leading his own army of demonic hordes into the undead forces. A titanic clash occurred, and the small boy was drowned out by the conflicting factions.

Redis idly toyed with one of the rodents, stroking it softly with the tip of his thumb. "Oh... If you only knew what was to come..." He chuckles darkly, his bagged eyes staring off into space. "... The world will fall into chaos, and only the mad will survive."

A tanned woman, black hair. Freckles. Annabelle became much more clear, now. He had loved her once, perhaps he still does. The Lich and the Fel-Sworn wanted nothing to do with her, yet the small boy and his small voice still held her in a high regard. But, the boy was shoved, forced back into the cage of books. Out of sight, out of the way. No opinion or control.

He was brought back for a purpose. A simple one, for the entertainment of his master. Ensure that chaos swells within the world. One day, the Burning Legion will come. One day, they will have to find a way to beat the madness that threatens to devour them.

Redis sighed, glancing over a few mailing reports. A dozen of the blue dolls were to be sent to Annabelle upon the ship she was to stay upon. Each of them had their stuffing carved out where the heart should've been on a living human. He sulks, leaning backward as he tickles the rodent under its rotting jaw.

"... And the jester will be a harbinger."

He wasn't lying when he said he was lonely. After the 'boarding' party he sent to the Novalight ship was wiped out, the man simply sat in his chair, elbows rested on top of his desk, hands running through his hair.

"I am mad, aren't I?"

Only the loyal pack of undead rodents paid any attention to the human. They flicked what whiskers they had towards him. It was the best Redis could have them do, save for talking through them. He wasn't about to seep to that level. Yet.

"Well, perhaps I shall follow up through my threat, mm? How would you all like a mommy? I don't even think master would have anything to say against it."

The rats just stared up towards Redis, causing a faint sigh to pass through his mouth. "Of course, master. Anything for you, master. Whatever makes you happy." he muttered in a ratty tone. His mind drifted off to what could be his mate. Not another Berenice, no... He was in control this time. If only he could whisk away Annabelle for... A month or so, corrupt her. Mm, would have to locate Noria again. But, success is slim. That woman had more influence throughout the world than anyone else he knows.

Then his thoughts drift to the Novalight family, as Zariel had so kindly mention. "Well, if she went elf, I suppose there isn't any shame in it." A twisted grin formed on his lips, lowering his hands to rest the index finger and thumb against his chin. "Mmm... See what that -Nova- has to say about that."

It has been a long time since the two spoke, since the wedding. After Redis had informed everyone that it was Noria who allowed Salor to be kidnapped, she had avoided the elf and all associated with him. The move to Hearthglen helped, not to mention she was hosting classes for students. The small salary from the Council hardly paid the rent for her office, but it was better than nothing. The clinic was suffering from the lack of permanent patients. She was going to have to confront the Council about her other connections, less she runs out of gold in five years. She was still paying Mastian, and Velile has gone missing ever since she took the bribe from the Blades of Silverfang. “Selfish whore.” Noria muttered as she attempted to relax in the small office, resting her elbows on the table before her, hands rubbing her face.

The room was located in the monastery, a private room that housed a table and bookshelves The desk was cluttered beyond belief, filled with papers, tomes, medical supplies, nearly anything Noria used weekly. Mastian normally stayed in the inn, refusing the causal offer that Noria gave for him to stay with her. A slight sharp damage flared in her stomach, “I’ve really lost it, haven’t I?” Images of all the men and women she’s shared beds with in her youth flashed into her mind. There was hardly any emotional connection, it was just a pleasure action for a single night. Nothing more. Now regret filled her mind.

However, she glances over her shoulder to peer at the dozing Mastian, checking to see if he had heard anything she whispered. The small elf seated in a chair by the bookshelves, busy taking his third nap for the day, a book was laid open over his legs as his head hung back over the chair. He was on the clock, but when no appointments were made, Noria would let him sleep. With a faint sigh, she leans back into her chair, mulling over life.

Her thoughts were shattered by harsh, brisk footsteps that echoed down the hall. She perked up a brow, expecting it to be one of the patrolling soldiers. A robed elf came into robe, instead. He rounded the corner to enter the room, causing Noria to shift to face the visitor. “May I assist you?” she offered, her tone polite and passive.

“I’m just making things even.”

The cold voice came with a surge of movement. The elf flung his hands forward, blasting Noria out of the chair with a burst of shadow energy. The woman lets out a soft yelp, surprised if anything. Her own hands were directed towards the robed elf in a counter attack, but he was already upon her. Gripping his right hand into a fist, the glint of metal knuckles flashed by a candle’s light. The fist impacts into Noria’s face, Salor pulling it back to repeat the forward motion. After the fifth punch, Noria’s face was a bloodied mess, nose bent ninety degrees, and both were eyes shut as she wavered from staying conscious and not. Her mouth was full of blood. “W-Wait…” she pleaded, but the robed elf showed no mercy, cutting her off with another pummeling punch. By this time, Mastian had woken up, and grasped the situation. He flung a hand towards Salor, firing a feeble arcane bolt.

The spell had little effect, apart from causing Salor to turn his attention to Mastian. The smaller elf blinks, whimpering as he turned to flee from the scene. "O-Oh no! N-no-no-no!" Salor merely flicked a wrist towards him, sending an arcane ball and chain to wrap around the apprentice’s legs. A scream passes through his lips, but it is silenced when Salor brutally kicks the side of the elf’s head. Mastian lets out a slight groan, and is easily knocked out. The robed elf lets out a sharp sigh, flexing his fingers a bit. Blood covered parts of his robe, mostly his sleeve and hand. He wasn’t sure if he had killed Noria or not, but it did not matter either way. She was repaid for her disloyalty. In a flash of arcane, the robes were replaced with a fresh pair. The gray haired Sin’dorei moves to step outside, and disappears in another flash.

It was a sunny day in Hearthglen, despite recent showers that have plagued the city. The ground and windows were still wet with the fallen liquid. The young squire sat at a table, a hand stuck in his hair as he rests his forehead on his palm. He’s been staring at the package for a while now, a few minutes in real time, but it might as well have been an hour for Baidin. It was tagged, declaring it was from, ‘Anna’.

He hasn’t talked to her since his feelings were exposed. She had informed him that there was someone else, and even though she apologized several times, Baidin still took the rejection to heart. He had lost to a blood elf, the vile, evil elves that are selfish and only desire what is good for their race. How could any human learn to care for one of them? All the Sin’dorei the squire met were arrogant and snotty, by no means attractive or friendly. The human sighs once more, poking at the wrapped package.

He wasn’t sure why he didn’t have the heart to open it. It’s been weeks since the ‘broke up’ occurred, yet he still bummed out about the entire ordeal. It was a new experience for him to deal with, and he was just trying to cope with it. He hid the depression as best as he could in public, but it was times where he was alone where he could finally deal with the sharp pains that stabbed at his heart. It wasn’t enjoyable, but he felt better after the meditations on the subject. But now, a gift was sitting right in front of him, and he didn’t know what to make of it.

Finally mustering the courage, he begins to tear the wrapping paper apart. His lips formed into a slight grin, as the present under its cover was unveiled. It was a small band of simple toy soldiers. Made out of wax, they were quite detailed with colors and equipment. They were a squad of footmen from the First War: Three standard footmen clad in plate armor and a sword with shield, two archers wearing leather, one old wizard with a huge staff, and a single commanding exemplar with a banner attached to his spear. Just like the ones he played with as a child.

Baidin sniffed once, before he lets out a soft chuckle carefully setting up the toy figures onto the table. He positions them in a standard arrow formation, all facing towards the remaining of the wrapping paper. His fingers quickly go to work in tearing apart some of the paper, twisting and wrinkling it till it somewhat looked like humanoid blobs. It was the best he could do with such little materials. "“The orcs are here!” Baidin muttered softly, moving one of the footmen forward carefully, setting his new place at the head of the group. "“Cut them down, we will hold the line!” The squire said with a commanding voice, mimicking the exemplar. With a free hand, Baidin moves the paper wads to the soldiers, muttering out sounds of fighting, swords and axes clashing, the dull thud of blocked blows, the crackle of fire and lightning, the cries and shouts of victory and death.

The boy was so caught up in his little war, he failed to notice Calia peering at him through the window. The priestess had a smirk on her face, watching the scene for a moment, until she tapped her knuckles on the glass. Baidin jolts up from the table, jerking about as he tried to find his hammer, but then he noticed who the prankster was. Calia lets out a loud giggle, quickly retreating out of sight, leaving Baidin flushed and with a frown. With an exhale, the squire collects the wax soldiers, carefully setting them along his night-stand in a parade formation. He leans against the bed, folding his arms together as he returns to pondering, staring at the soldiers, imagining himself in the role of the commander…

The early morning rays of the sun began to bask the spires and buildings of Silvermoon with a bright, warm glow. It was a sleepy start to the day, those who had somewhere to be were there by now, only a few elves and a patrolling guardian moved through the streets. Krian Duskbinder moved at a relaxed pace, hands wedged firmly into his pockets while his eyes stared blanky forward. He lacked his blood knight tabard and chest piece, content with some casual clothing that were somewhat acceptable in most company. He strolled without much effort, route embedded into his memory. The Master Blood Knight finally stops at a little stall in the Bazaar, a weak smile on his face. "Morning, Miss Sunflower." What appeared to be an elderly Sin'dorei woman stood behind the booth, an array of flowers and plants were displayed all around the small area inside. While her hair was white and face tainted by a few wrinkles, she hardly seemed as old as her bodily movements gave off. Miss Sunflower returns the smile with her own.

"Hello there Mister Krian, is it time already?" She peddles about to comb through some of her flower displays, inspecting them with a florist's eye. "Yes ma'am... Yes it is." Krian lets out a slow sigh, pulling a hand out of his pocket to place several silvers onto the counter. "I'll need a few more though." The old elf blinks once, peering over towards the master with owlish eyes. "Oh? Well, okay then dearie." She plucks a handful of white daisies, wrapping them together with a ribbon. Little else was spoken, a somber silence fell over the pair as the flowers were prepared and then exchanged."See you next week, Miss Sunflower," Krian replies weakly. "Same to you, Mister Krian." The Knight departs without another word, carefully holding the bundle with both hands.

The Knight walked all the way out of the city, made his way to Sunstrider Isle. He stops at a small monument, engraved and trimmed to an elegant structure. In a small plaque it read, 'In memory of Jaeden and Amelia Duskbinder. Loving wife and darling daughter.' A single white daisy rested at the base of the grave, slightly worn. Krian kneels down to set the bundle of fresh flowers down, plucking up the former one. A sharp exhale escapes from his nose, twisting the flower between his finger and thumb. "To do until death..." he mutters quietly, his gaze fixed on the light petals. "I hope you'll forgve me, I've mourned for you and our poor daughter. I wished I could've done more for you. But..." He swallows through tightening throat. "I still love you, Jaeden, and I'm a wreck without you. Though, I pray you don't hate me for moving on. I mourned for a decade and I will continue to remember what we had..." His eyes fall shut before the tears could stain his cheeks. He brings himself up onto his feet, lightly holding the single flower in his hand. "I'll never forget." He smiles softly, opening his eyes to let the liquid trickle down freely. "Daddy misses you, Amy. Hope you're having fun, wherever you are." He slips his free hand into a pocket, turning about to walk away from the site, ears sagging along with his shoulders.