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Undercity was not her favorite place, but Valitha Voidstar had seen and visited much worse places than this. The Undercity was actually the former sewers and storm shelters of the once Human city of Loderan. Since its fall to the Plague many years ago (and the murder of the king by the hands of his own son, Arthas), Sylvanas Windrunner and the Forsaken had taken up residence in the ruins as their rightful home. Valitha had been staying in the surprisingly comfortable inn of the nearest villa of Brill until her new student arrived. Secretly, Valitha prayed that it would be a living, breathing student. Although the Forsaken were the Blood Elves’ strongest allies in the Horde, she could only be around dead people for so long.
Her Dreadsteed trotted loudly leaving sparks of flame and sulfur in its wake. Valitha was a Warlock of some renown and everything the Blood Elf did was with purpose. The Forsaken wandering quietly through the quarters of Undercity nodded at her passing and some seemed not to notice or care. This was common as the Forsaken normally did not trust nor deal with the living on a normal basis. She dismounted and dismissed the horrible steed with a wave of her manicured hand as she neared the stinking labyrinth that served as the Royal Apothecary.
Modrid stood at a table filled with bubbling flasks, burners, and tubes that steamed or bubbled with various concoctions. Strapped to a nearby slab was a struggling (although weakly) Human female. She was emancipated and disheveled and her weary eyes looked about with confusion and horror. Valitha sneered at the Human in disgust. The Blood Elf remembered how the hated Humans Continue reading →
It was not common for Symond to get a personal summon from King Varian. When the sealed paper was handed to him via messenger telling of urgent news and an even more urgent assignment to be given, Symond packed his gear and took wing on the fastest griffon available from the Flight Master from Sentinel Hill.
As he sailed above the trees of his familiar homeland, his curiosity and excitement grew. He was one of the youngest paladins in the service to the King and as such, he felt he was often underestimated. For his age, he had a firm grasp of the Light. The winds blew through his long blond hair and the mists of the altitude cooled his hairless face. His armor creaked as he shivered slightly. Metal armor on griffon back flying at the speed they were did not make a warm journey. His growing excitement warmed him as he saw the grand gates of Stormwind open up before them.
Once landed, the young paladin took no time to get his “land legs” back but summoned his holy steed as soon as he was able. With great haste, he rode swiftly to the castle taking note of the many people in the trade quarter selling or trading their wares. Several guards saluted him or simply nodded as he passed.
He dismounted and dismissed his steed as the great halls of the castle opened. The guards stood aside holding their halberds straight at their attention stance. Symond walked purposefully towards the throne room hearing voices discussing something. As he drew near, he heard the unmistakable baritone voice of King Varian.