She thumped up the stairs to her second story room anxious to drop off her small pack and pick up her towel and a change of clothing. She stepped in to find a red haired dwarven woman turn away from the window and rake her with her gaze.

“Well woul’ ye look wha’ th’ cat dragged in.” The woman crossed her arms over her chest and shook her head. “Ye look like ‘ell.”

Ithrene felt her face burn and her hands begin to shake. “Wha’ are YE doin’ ‘ere. In my room!”

The woman looked around and wrinkled her nose. “So is tha’ wha’ ye call it? Looks like a slum t’ me. Y’r lucky ye ain’ got fleas from it yet.”

Ithrene grit her teeth and clenched her hands. She absolutely refused to admit to her sister that this place was all she could afford at the time. “Say y’r piece, Arlene then be on y’r way. Ah got thin’s t’ do.”

Arlene sighed dramatically giving the room one last slashing look. “Pap sent me t’ check on ye. Nobody ‘cept Evelene ‘as ‘eard from ye an’ Evvie said th’ las’ time she saw ye, ye showt up on ‘er stoop black an’ blue.”

“Well ye c’n see Ah’m fine,” she planted her hands on her hips and squared her feet as if preparing for a fight. She felt like she was, which was a familiar feeling when she conversed with her older sister. “Ye c’n go back an’ report an’ leave me be.”

“Fine? Oh, aye. Y’r fine a’righ’. Livin’ inna fleabag, comin’ in scorched an’ smellin’ o’ Dark Irons, an’ tumblin’ onto y’r sister’s stoop black an’ blue an’ barely able t’ stan’. Aye, y’r fine, Ah’m sure! Ah though’ tha’ mongrel there was goin’ t’ be some sort o’ guard.” She waved a dismissive hand at KaeAskavi who stood just outside the doorway fidgeting.

“Kae’s no mongrel!” Ithrene advanced on Arlene, fists clenched at her sides. “An’ ye go’ no righ’ comin’ in here an’ insultin’ ‘im like tha’!”

Arlene stared at her a moment wide-eyed before putting up her hands. “Y’r righ’. Ah’m sorry. Ah shoulna’ said tha’. Ah’m sure ‘e’s a good bear.”

Ithrene sighed, still shaking but her anger quickly turning to shame and frustration. “Ye knoo’ how Ah’m doin’ now. Ye bes’ go.”

“Nae wit’oot ye.” Arlene picked up a pack from the floor and stomped toward the door. Ithrene heard her armor jingling beneath her tabard. “Ah promised pap Ah’d make sure ye were takin’ care o’ an’ Ah’d rather face y’r wrath than Pap’s! C’mon.”

“Wha’ ye mean ‘c’mon’,” Ithrene snarled as Arlene pushed her way out the door and past Kae. “This is m’ room an’ ah’m goin’ t’ go get a bath an’ take me a nap!”

Arlene laughed, her hearty voice carrying back through the open doorway. “Ain’ y’r room nae more. Pap sen’ coin an’ Ah used it t’ get us a decent place oot’ in Canal Distric’. Room f’r both o’ us an’ y’r bear. Ah already had y’r stuff moved.”

The sound of her heavy boots clomping down the rickety stairs sounded so final to Ithrene. She felt her heart sink as will deflated and she meekly followed her older sister out of the building. Kae sensing his mistress’ mood plodded as close to her as he could, rumbling comforting sounds. All she ever wanted was her own life. She thought she had achieved that finally and now, once more, her eldest sister was dragging her around by the ear telling her what to do. She sighed. It seemed some things couldn’t be gotten away from as easily as she thought.

PS- click the pictures to see them full size! ))

KaeAskavi, the huge white bear that followed her and was her closest companion, ambled over and leaned heavily against her. She absently dug her fingers into his ruff to scratch him. He growled in pleasure and let his eyes drift shut. The room seemed considerably smaller with both him and Cubby, Kae’s offspring, there but she wouldn’t make them sleep out in the street. It wasn’t right. And Cubby was still too young to understand danger. He might just amble off after the first weirdo he saw and she’d never see him again. She missed the big room she’d had at the manor but there were so few others there anymore. Many of the rooms had dust covers draped over the furniture, the windows shuttered and locked. It just seemed…. Abandoned. Sad. Even the Lady had left. Gone off to become a Warmage.

Perhaps that was part of what contributed to Ithrene’s loneliness lately. A home that used to bustle with friends and family, used to be filled with laughter and friendly voices, now just echoed. Some of the staff still remained and were friendly enough, but never seemed to warm up completely with those who fought. Their reverence always made Ithrene nervous though the Lady seemed to take it in stride.

Then she met the Boomsticks. She had known Fjuinen for some time already. And the sound of his voice always sent a curious little shiver down her spine. When he mentioned the Boomsticks tavern she thought that might be a good place to catch sight of him more often. Though she couldn’t bring herself to talk to him for very long. She always got so nervous and ended up rambling on about Kae.

But when she arrived that first time at the pub she realized quickly that she didn’t just feel comfortable among them, but welcome as well. They treated her with respect despite her youth and were quite friendly. She found herself returning less often to see Fjuinen and more just to enjoy the company of all of the Boomsticks. They even put up with Kae and his nasty bear odors.

Then something happened that completely knocked the wind out of her. She heard the Boomsticks were gathering someplace called Shadowmoon Valley. She had contacts in Shattrath City already through some creative work with a mage and knew it was on Draenor so she set out to join them. Not entirely sure she would be able to, due to her lack of experience. However she did manage to get close enough and when Fjuinen found out she was coming, rushed out to pick her up on his mammoth and carry her to Wildhammer Stronghold. Her heart still fluttered a little about that!

A few of the Boomsticks seemed surprised that she actually made it there in one piece and after seeing some of the things that wandered that dark, acrid valley, Ithrene was a bit surprised herself. However with a laugh, Corise handed her a mug when she arrived and said, “Gal your age willin’ to come all the way out to Shadowmoon Valley for the sake o’ boozin’ it up with us… ya got a standin’ invitation to the Boomsticks any time ya want, far’s I’m concerned.”

It was all she could do to keep from asking for a tabard right then and there. She spent the rest of the evening feeling like she was floating. Later as she thought about it she wondered how serious Corise had been though. After all Ithrene was young, unskilled and Corise had been drinking pretty heavily. But Ithrene clung to that feeling of belonging letting it warm her heart for days afterward.

Even after they invited her to listen in to their channel on the buzzbox, she began to doubt the sincerity of the offer. What would they want with her? She had nothing to offer. Maybe after they learned more about her or after she gained more skills and experience she could be one of them. Perhaps Corise just meant that she could apply when she had gained more skills. That made a great deal more sense to Ithrene.

Until Homrend firmly reiterated the same message over the buzzbox channel. The leader of the Boomsticks himself said that! She felt giddy all over. But still she wondered what she could offer. There were so many who were so much more skilled than she. So much stronger and tougher.

Of course she never let her lack of experience stand in the way of other things. That was precisely what happened the night she ended up stumbling to her sister’s doorstep looking for a place to sleep. During a gathering at the pub a box that had been left there was opened and found to contain a bloody and tattered Boomstick tabard. After some discussion and a determination of whom it belonged to, a group decided to head out to Light’s Hope Chapel to look for Salakayin. She immediately volunteered. She couldn’t, in good conscience, stand aside when one of the Boomsticks was in trouble.

Perhaps volunteering for such a mission hadn’t been the wisest thing she’d ever done. She didn’t fully understand half of what went on except that a Boomstick was hurt and some human female “paladin” seemed to be the cause. Though she’d never seen a human strong enough to toss around so many Boomsticks before. Foolishly (her Pap would say) Ithrene jumped into the fray and found herself thrown aside like nothing so much as a cheap rag doll. She liked to think she at least provided a distraction so someone else could take her down.

Unlikely, but a little daydreaming never hurt. However she had gotten pretty battered in the process. Her mail armor wasn’t up to that kind of beating. The healers had clucked and fussed at her when they found out the story and she’d growled at them until they let her leave after they bandaged up the worst of it. She should have known she would get the same treatment from her sister.

What shocked her most were Homrend’s parting words to her as she clutched her hearthstone to depart. “Lass, y’r now an honorary Boomstick f’r what ye done tonight.”

Ithrene wiped at moisture creeping from her eyes as she continued to stare out the window at the Boomstick Tavern. She could never tell him how much those words meant to her. These Boomsticks were becoming as important to her as family. Maybe she really did belong with them. Maybe it wasn’t all about what she could do for them, but how she fit with them. And how much she cared. She knew she would do anything for the Boomsticks. Maybe that’s all that was needed.

She smiled as she wrapped one arm around Kae and hugged his huge head close. He rumbled affectionately and nuzzled his mistress. “Ah thin’ Ah foun’ us a new family, Kae. Ah really thin’ Ah have.”

“So y’r finally awake, eh?” She turned her aching head slowly to the sound of her sister’s voice as she approached the bed. Evelene shook her head and set a steaming mug on the table beside the bed. “Damned healer n’er shoul’ ha’ let ye leave th’ temple las’ nigh’. Ah’m still worried ‘bout tha’ lump on y’r noggin.”

Ithrene rubbed at her crusty eyes and slowly sat up, using the gesture to hide her grimace of pain. Normally she would stay in bed and rest off the beating she’d taken the day before but she didn’t really want her older sister fussing over her today. “Ah’m fine. T’weren’ tha’ bad, really.”

“Nae tha’ bad??!!” Evvie rounded on her and pointed an accusing finger at her. “Y’r eye is still swollen an’ y’r lucky ye din’ lose it! Ye coulnae har’ly stan’ when ye showed up a’ m’door an’ tha’ was AFTER they was done healin’ ye! An’ ye spen’ all nigh’ hollerin’ ‘bout demons an’ undead an’ th’ like, thrashin’ aboot in y’r sleep!”

With a shrug, Ithrene reached for the steaming mug and sipped at the soothing brew within. “Happens sometimes,” she muttered.

Evvie snorted. “Seems t’ be happenin’ t’ ye a lot lately.”

“Ye dun knoo’ wha’ its like oot’ there, Evvie,” she said after several moments and drinking down most of the brew. “There’s battles t’ be fough’ and folks t’ figh’ f’r an’ protect.”

“Ye dun thin’ Ah understan’ tha’?” She replied very quietly, her face drawing up angrily. “Ah unnerstan’ quite well. Me own Hamdel taugh’ me tha’ an’ Ah los’ ‘im t’ them same battles. Like Ah’m afraid Ah’m goin’ t’ lose ye. Ye take too many chances, Ith. Ye shoulda stayed at the temple. Learned wha—“

“Dun ye start!” Ithrene leapt to her feet so fast her head swam for a moment but her hand on Kae’s shoulder steadied her. “Ah din’ belon’ a’ th’ temple. Ah’m nae Arlene an’ will ne’er be! Ye shoul’ knoo’ better’n annaeone th’ need t’ fin’ y’r own place! Y’r a bloody ACCOUNTANT f’r Light’s sake! An’ Ah remember th’ ragin’ fit Pap had o’er tha’ so dun ye start tellin’ me wha’ Ah shoul’ha done!” She snatched up her cloak and stomped toward the door of Evvie’s small apartment in Stormwind. Kae followed close behind her, rumbling and growling in confusion and concern.

“Ith! Damn y’r eyes! Ah jes’ worry tha’ y’r bitin’ off more’n ye can chew! Ith!!”

Ithrene ignored her sister’s calls as she climbed onto the back of her ram, Billy and charged through the streets of Stormwind.

One of my great joys on returning to game was to discover that the RPA channel was still alive and well on Alliance side. Since then there have been some great IC conversations going on there but so far this one has been the most spectacularly explosive. Sometimes a simple misunderstood phrase can lead to some hilarious interaction. Enjoy!  -Nau

Nauloera: Greetings, Razain.

Razain: How are you, Nauloera, rest well?

Nauloera: I am fine and yes, quite. You?

Razain: I am… fine <sounds so not fine>

Nauloera: Shall I come to your room again tonight then since you did not desire me last night?

Fearinal: *chokes*

Falferran <gasps>

Fearinal: RAZAIN!!

Adnox: *He laughs, the sound warm and deep*

Fearinal: You… You… *unable to find words, he just screams angrily*

Nauloera: Is something the matter?

Razain: No, Nauloera. Not… *whispers oh hell*

Fearinal: You filthy, disgusting predator!! Gods! I don’t even know enough Common to call you what you are!!

Kyraine: That’s a good start.

Fearinal: YOU’RE A HORRIBLE HORRIBLE THING!

Falferran: <scoffs> I-i-i-if you a-a-are tha’ naieve to n-n-not see what i-i-i-is the *m-m-mater*, then you a-a-are very silly, if I m-m-may say.

Razain: Wait- It’s not what you think

Razain: She and I… we never… not THAT

Fearinal: *icily* Oh?

Nauloera: Please do not yell at Razain. I do not appreciate it.

Razain: NO

Fearinal: I seem to remember ShOMEONE telling me they hadn’t spoken to me in months because they’d lost interest.

Fearinal: I seem to remember SOMEONE saying they only pursued me because I was easy elven ass, a Kaldorei slut, and that I was NOTHING to them beyond a hole to stick it in!

Kyraine: Ah- <coughs>

Feneril: Oh my…

Kyraine: Right then. Now that we know how someone really feels… might be you want to enlighten the poor fellow that you’re not banging Razain, Priestess?

Nauloera: Raz? What is happening? Why is he being so cruel. Please, whoever you are please stop.

Fearinal: *sniffling*

Nauloera: Banging?

Razain: There is nothing to say – and he’s not being cruel

Kyraine: Aye. The horizontal mambo.

Nauloera: What is banging please? Like a drum?

Razain: He’s merely stating a fact.

Catreya: *coughs*

Falferran: <quietly sits in the corner and observes, with slight amusement>

Adnox: ‘Ow ehs sehehn ooat ooas done tuh yuh curuelteh?

Razain: Though… never mind. To say that those comments were a lie and I didn’t mean them won’t make a difference, I’m sure

Adnox: *snorts*

Razain: Fearinal, an apology isn’t enough – there is nothing I can say or do to make up for any of that.

Razain: but . . . <sigh>

Nauloera: Please. I still do not understand.

Fearinal: *he tries to speak, but his voice breaks. He says nothing*

Razain: He and I were together, I left, didn’t contact him for months, I came back, said horrible things, it ended, he hates me and I deserve all of that and more.

Kyraine: First off, tell the poor elf that you are not, and never have, banged Razain.

Kyraine: Cause saying you didn’t satisfy him the other night in his bedroom makes it sound like you did.

Nauloera: *sighs in frustration* I have NEVER struck Razain! He is my friend!

Kyraine: I didn’t know you went in for- <coughs>

Kyraine: Never mind. But just tell him you didn’t do it.

Nauloera: I would not do him harm.

Razain: <sigh> Fearinal, Nauloera and I have never had sexual intercourse of any kind

Nauloera: *blinks* What…?

Razain: Nauloera, Banged is a slang term for sex

Fearinal: Perhaps not. But she sure sounded to offer herself for tonight.

Falferran: <splutters a bit> P-p-p-pardon me, b-b-but I do not *need* t-t-to know of your e-e-e-extracurricul-l-lar activities…

Razain: She helped me sleep – cast a spell, made the nightmares go away, that’s all

Nauloera: Well of course we have never had sexual activities together. I have taken vows to the Light.

Razain: She had to come to my room to do the spells

Fearinal: *ashamed* I am sorry. That was a bit explicit for a public channel. *sounding increasingly miserable* I am sorry, everyone.

Kyraine: Good thing that doesn’t stop all priests. Vows. <grins>

Kyraine rummages through her pack

Kyraine gets out the pot

Kyraine tosses in some Salted Yeti Cheese, Frost Lotus, Savory Snowplum

Kyraine adds some Magic Eater for good measure, and some Split Hoof

Kyraine grabs a bowl, sits down on the dead Nerubian, and starts eating

Too Hot!

The normally soothing breeze blowing though the grasses of Mulgore today carried nothing but more of the oppressive heat. Even the grasses themselves seemed to wilt under the unrelenting summer sun. Gentlewind lay among those grasses next to the small creek near her village, her fur still wet from rolling in that same creek. It didn’t help. She wanted to fuss and whine but mother would tell her that whining accomplished nothing. Gentlewind knew from experience the only thing it accomplished was a scolding!

She had shed her brightly colored patchwork leathers before splashing around in the creek and as she looked over at her tunic didn’t look forward to putting them back on. With a heavy sigh she looked back at the creek and wondered if she should just lie in the water to keep cool. She scratched at an itchy spot and grimaced. Even her own fur was too hot!

She nibbled on her lip trying to think of something she could do to ease her discomfort. Nearby her rocketbot clanked listlessly. Even HE seemed overwhelmed by the heat! She scratched at her fur again as a bug skittered across her arm. She rolled over on her stomach to let breeze blow across her sweat-dampened back. Still the heat built up on her fur and the breeze gave little relief.

Already she had spent enough time in the creek to count for a month’s worth of baths. Her leathers lay scattered about and she couldn’t bring herself to even think of putting them back on. There must be something else she could do!

Her eyes landed on her skinning knife still slung on her belt lying in the grass nearby. Mother always said she should find her own solutions to her problems.

*******

Snowbreeze fanned herself as she stepped into the tent she shared with her mate, Redmane and their daughter, Gentlewind. She frowned seeing that her daughter was not here either. Redmane looked up with a warm smile before seeing the look of concern on her face.

“Is something the matter?” He asked his mate, standing from where he had been sprawled on a rug in the heat.

“I can’t find Gentlewind,” she said simply, looking around as if the child might suddenly appear in the tent.

Redmane shrugged. “Likely she is off playing. Surely with as much noise as she makes someone has seen her. We will go ask around.”

Snowbreeze shook her head and looked more worried. “No, nobody has seen her. I’ve already asked everyone. She’s been silent since this morning.”

Redmane checked the sun over Snowbreeze’s shoulder through the tent entry. So at least three hours their calf had not made a peep. He frowned and headed toward the exit. “I will find her. Perhaps she is at the creek. That has been a favorite spot.”

“She’s been too quiet too long,” Snowbreeze said as he passed. “Something is wrong or….”

He nodded. “It is the ‘or’ that concerns me.”

He left the tent and made his way to Gentlewind’s favorite spot by the creek. As he neared it he saw his daughter sprawled in the grass. Something didn’t look right and the clumps of white scattered about her puzzled him. In a panic he rushed over to his daughter to find the white clumps were fur and there were great patches of it missing all over her body. Pink skin glared at him from her young form.

“Gentlewind!” He knelt by his daughter and touched her face. She opened her eyes and just stared at him for a moment. When she raised her hand to wave at him the skinning knife was still in it. “What… what did you do?”

“I’m too hot, father!”

Thanks for the inspiration, Anna!

Too Hot!

Meg woke with her mouth feeling nearly as sticky as her bare skin. The stuffiness of the room and the thick, sticky air told her what kind of day it was going to be; hot and miserable. Again. The temperature during the night had dropped to almost pleasant but with the coming of dawn she could feel the heat and humidity rising to envelope Stormwind.

Movement next to her and a moment later a hot, heavy arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her against an equally hot body. She wrinkled her nose in distaste as she felt the sweat already begin to form where their skin pressed together.

“Good morning,” the voice in her ear was rough from drinking, the breath hot and irritating on her neck.

“Get ya han’s offa me. It’s too hot,” she muttered back trying to pull away from whoever she’d taken to her room the night before. She couldn’t remember, seldom did. The most important thing this morning, though, was to get his hot body away from hers.

He chuckled and ran his hand up her stomach to caress her breast and kissed her sloppily between the shoulders. Even that felt hot and slimy. “That isn’t whatcha said last night, sweets.”

With a growl she grabbed his arm locked hers around it. With a heave of her shoulders she levered him over the top of her and sent him sprawling out of the bed onto the floor. Once the bed was hers alone she rolled over and sprawled on it. “I said getcha hands offa me!” She snarled at the man staring at her with a shocked expression. “It’s too damn hot!”

She ignored him as he threw a few curses at her and gathered up his things to leave the room. Maybe it was time to go back to Northrend. At least there her brains wouldn’t boil in her helmet. At least not from the weather’s heat.

Rearranging the burning logs with an iron poker, Garilos stared absentmindedly at the dancing flames. Although there were others in the inn, he was the only one sitting near the fireplace. There was plenty of room in front of the large fireplace. A handful of rough-hewn chairs formed a semi-circle in front of it, one of which had been pulled close to the fireplace and was now occupied by Garilos. Another chair was taken over by his gear and pack.

The fireplace was constructed of stone and mortar. It had a mantle made from the rough-hewn log of some indigenous tree. Placed on the mantle were a couple taper candles made from beeswax, an empty wine bottle, a large pine cone, and an assortment of knick-knacks, probably placed there by the owners of the inn or maybe by a traveler or two.

Spanning the width of the firebox was a thick iron rod from which several metal hooks hung. Although the inn had its own kitchen for preparing food for patrons, Garilos, like many travelers, often used the fireplace to prepare his own. On several occasions, he had used the fireplace to prepare fish he had caught in the local waters. Over a decade ago, while living in Auberdine, he had learned a technique of preserving fish for later consumption by carefully drying it over a fire. The night elves had taught him that and many other food preparation recipes which had served him well during his adventuring in Northrend.

Tonight, however, Garilos was preparing no food. Shortly after arriving at the inn, he had purchased a simple meal of hot stew, smoked cheese, and ale from the innkeeper. The hot stew consisted of potatoes, a few vegetables, and ram’s meat caught by local hunters in the nearby mountains. The ale, a farmhouse ale, was effervescent enough to wash down the thick, cloying taste of the smoked cheese but otherwise was bland.

The empty plates and mug from his dinner sat next to him on the outer hearth of the fireplace. Garilos had consumed the food without tasting it, his thoughts elsewhere. He had returned to Valgarde looking for Megaly. Upon arrival, he had made a beeline to the inn to inquire of her. When he asked the assistant innkeeper if Megaly was around or if there were any messages for him, the stout woman had shrugged her shoulders noncommittally and then wandered off.

An hour or two later, the innkeeper had approached Garilos with a rolled up piece of hide. “Garilos? This was left for you.” Snatching the item from the hands of the innkeeper, Garilos deciphered the message written on it. Looking back at the innkeeper, he asked “How long ago did she leave this?” With a shrug, the innkeeper replied, “I don’t recall. A day or maybe a week ago. Coulda been more than that too.”

This had been the nearest to Megaly Garilos had been in many weeks and now he had no idea where she might be. Was she only a day out of Valgarde or a month? As best as he could tell, she was headed towards Valiance Keep in the Borean Tundra. If she had left only a day or two ago, he might be able to intercept her. If he knew what route she was taking.

But if she had left a month ago, she might already be on the return trip to Valgarde Keep. Garilos didn’t know what to do. Staying at the inn until the storm blew past seemed the obvious choice for now but what to do after that? Garilos knew Ramsey, his netherwing drake, was never far away. Ramsey probably could get Garilos to Valiance Keep quickly but, if Megaly had traveled by sea, Garilos doubted Ramsey had it in him to search the vast ocean south of Northrend.

Garilos was startled out of his revere when a strong gust of wind blew open the door of the inn with a load bang. A patron seated near the door jumped up and quickly slammed the door closed. “Ugh. I’m not going anywhere tonight, ” Garilos muttered to himself.

Rising from his chair, he gathered up his empty plates and mug and wandered over to the bar. After placing them on the bar, he settled into a stool and said to the bartender, “It looks like I’ll be spending the night here with this weather. I’ll have another pint of the ale.”

(( This originally appeared on Garilos’ Blog as “Garilos Duroc: Return to Valgarde“. ))

From his vantage point, he could see the scattered huts and fire pits of the small camp. Garilos carefully memorized the location of every hut, boulder, and tree in the camp, creating a map in his head which he rotated and examined as he plotted his course of action. He also made a note of the routes of the worgen guards patrolling the perimeter of the camp.

If any in the village were to look to where he was hidden, they would see nothing but shadows within shadows. Even with the moon out tonight, it would be difficult for any to see Garilos.

“Do they have nightmares…”, Garilos asked himself as he silently pulled a dagger from its sheath. Even the blade of the dagger was difficult to see, blackened as it was to prevent any reflected light from betraying its position.

Stealthily rising from his position, Garilos looked about for any possible threats. Upon seeing none, he crept forward to the worgen camp. He silently crossed the open field separating him from the camp, his feet making no noise as they quickly closed the distance to Garilos’ first target.

Walking up behind a guard, Garilos stood a mere two yards from the unaware of worgen. Even their acute hearing and eyes could not detect Garilos tonight. Not this night, not when he had culling to do. There was too much evil in the world for him to fail. He had a duty to cull the evil.

Collecting his thoughts, Garilos focused on the guard. As the guard came to one end of its patrol route, it turned and looked straight at Garilos. And kept walking its route, unseeing. When the guard passed in front of him, Garilos stepped out of the shadows behind the guard and quietly cut the neck of his target with his dagger. Silently dropping the stiffening corpse to the ground, Garilos looked around to see if anyone had noticed his attack. Seeing no one had taken notice, Garilos slipped back into the shadows and waited for his next prey.

“Let them whisper of me, in terror, as they huddle around their fires,” Garilos thought to himself as he prepared to strike again.

As he waited for his dinner to warm up, he cleaned and repaired his gear. Aside from a few scratches in his leather chest piece, his armor was in good shape. He gotten some worgen blood on his pants but that was easily removed with an emulsion of water and herbs he had gathered in the woods near his camp site.

He had had a particularly productive evening, killing a dozen worgen. He finally had to give up the hunt when the camp became alarmed at the unexpected disappearance of its guards. The alarm was raised when a worgen had wandered from the center of the camp to the perimeter. Upon seeing no guards, it let out a loud howl that alerted the rest of the camp.

Garilos was already a quarter mile away on a ledge overlooking the camp by the time the camp was fully alerted. As soon as he saw the worgen making its way to the edge of the camp, he knew his actions would soon be discovered. Running silently, he quickly retreated to a vantage point to watch the ensuing chaos.

With a bitter chuckle, he watched the worgen search the surrounding woods and field for the bodies of their fallen pack members. Garilos had taken care to hide the bodies but only well enough such they were not discovered as he did his culling. He knew nothing he did would conceal the bodies for long, especially as they released their smell of death into the night breeze.

Even now, he could smell the worgen and their fear. He could smell it in the wind and on his armor. Wrinkling his nose, he spat on the ground. “Disgusting creatures.”

Garilos had no intention of being found and already had another destination planned. He had been moving from worgen camp to worgen camp, culling their numbers. Killing just enough at each camp to sow terror in their hearts.

As he walked along the edge of a brushy field, Garilos wondered what Megaly was doing. He had not seen nor heard from her for weeks. He had sent letters to Valgarde for her but had no idea if she was still there. He did not expect her to find him, not with his constant moving from one location to the next. He could only hope she might leave a message for him at the inn in Valgarde.

Looking back upon his recent actions, he wondered what Megaly would say. Certainly she would understand the need to rid the world of such evil but would she question his sanity? Already, Garilos had learned to not discuss his actions with others as they frequently called into question his motives.

What did they know? They were not there when he had to slay the spirits of the Tuskarr. Those spirits of the peaceful Tuskarr, doomed to wander their village, never knowing why they had died or where to go.

Garilos came to stop next to a small creek running through the wood. Setting down his pack, Garilos surveyed the surrounding area. He saw recent signs of animal passing through but signs of humans or similar creatures were already days old.

Digging a water flask out of his pack, Garilos knelt down next to the creek to fill the flask with fresh water. The creek was only a few inches deep at its deepest point. It sparkled and burbled as it flowed around rocks and fallen branches. Its bottom was covered with rocks and fallen leaves.

As Garilos looked at the rocks on the creek bottom, a particularly pretty one caught his eye. “Hey … I’ll send that to Megaly,” he said to himself as he slipped it into his pocket. With a click, the rock settled in with a dozen other odds and ends he had found and saved for Megaly. With that rock were several other rocks, a seashell or two, an odd coin he had pickpocketed from a goblin in Dalaran, a shiny button, a tarnished ring, and a glass marble he had found near a fire pit in the Grizzly Hills.

Patting his pocket, he wondered what Megaly had done with the other rocks he had sent her. Or if she had even received them. Standing up from his spot next to the creek, Garilos sighed. “I gotta get back to Valgarde and look for Megaly again. Maybe she returned to Stormwind…I dunno.”

Hefting his pack over his shoulder, Garilos stood momentarily before stepping across the creek. As he trod off into the forest, he whispered to himself, “But first, one more worgen camp, then I’ll return to Valgarde.”

(( Originally posted on Garilos’ Blog as “Garilos Duroc: Do They Have Nightmares?”. ))