There he was, sitting in the Golden Lion. Yet again.
This was the eighth or ninth time i'd followed Nec, just out of pure curiosity. I suppose a part of me wanted to see what life was like on the other side of the road... The so called "Dark Side".
As always, Nec was surrounded by a group of people... New friends, none of whom were the kind of people you'd like to meet in a dark alleyway... But then again, neither was I.
He sat there a lot. Silent.
Once or twice, i'd seen him bring infernals forward to attack Goldshire, or sometimes even Stormwind... I was fascinated by the whole process. Damn near cost me my life.
Of course, the Militia controlled the situation well enough. The incompetent fools that they are, they still know how to handle an infernal or two. No harm done.
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This night was different. The air had a stench of magic about it... The taint that only a Sin'Dorei leaves.
Blood Elves. They were around, I knew it.
A man, stumbled into the inn, bleeding everywhere and yelling about "Westbrook Garrison, under attack" before falling to the floor.
Nec and his lackeys bareley spared a glance. They saw the man drop to the floor, laughed at him, and returned to their drinks.
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Better check this out...
I ran towards the Garrison, calling Phuntic to me as I went, and climbing onto his back.
"Faster Phuntic! If there's a Thalassian there, I want his head before he escapes..."
The trees flew by in a blur of green and brown colours... Hitting one of those things was a scary thought... I dismounted just before reaching the keep, and crept up behind a tree... Seeing a Sin'Dorei running in. A Blood Knight, by the looks of it... Shiny plate armor and a big sword to boot.
The guards, rushing forward and engaging in combat, were overpowered easily. He was a fighter of no small skill.
"Where the hell is Pilus and the Militia!? This is *their* headquarters, they should be defending it, not me!"
I spoke aloud, maybe to reassure the part of me that was considering engaging the Knight. I considered turning back... This was not my concern.
But then, something happened.
Zharixa entered my head. It just happened... I remembered the day I met her in the Sentinels. Her first meeting. I decided to take revenge for her, even though she was now one of these Sin'Dorei, and it was all my fault...
I was her mentor, her tutor. I was her Sentinel, she was my Watcher.
It's my fault she became obsessed with magic, let it consume her... I *asked* her to trail the Crusade...
That was it... I snapped. I sprinted towards the keep, daggers at the ready. I confronted the elf from behind, and we fought...
He was strong. I had trouble avoiding that sword of his, and the bugger kept knocking me to the ground. Eventually though, I got a lucky shot in. He was wounded, blood pouring from his torso, and he tried to flee.
Surely he couldn't be alone?
I let him slip away from me, as I sat against the wall... Numb from the adrenaline rush, and aching from my impact with the floor.
The rush faded, and the pain set in. He had cut me, on the back of my leg... Perhaps when I jumped to avoid his blow? Bah. What does it matter... He got away... But with any luck he'd bleed to death.
No trophy though... That was always a disappointment. Nothing to show at the Guild meets, declaring you'd fought a Blood Knight and came out better off.
I pondered raising the alarm in Goldshire... Maybe taking up arms along side Nec once again? Because frankly, despite your status among the Alliance, Horde were still Horde, and they needed killin' every once in a while. But then I realised that those days were gone. Nec was a total bastard now. He wouldn't put his life on the line for you... Neither would any of those scum at the Golden Lion.
The only chance of help I had was Stormwind. Perhaps i'd get lucky and find another Warden hangin' around?
But it was too late... The Sin'Dorei and his mates were probably halfway to Booty Bay by now... Don't blame 'em. You cross Avansas Shadowsong and live to tell the tale, you don't hang around.
Eventually, I managed to build up the willpower to get myself up... And I limped back to Goldshire in search of a friendly priest, or some bandages, so I could do the job myself.
Bloody Militia... Wouldn't know a Horde attack if it bit 'em in the arse, which it technically just did.
I knew I wouldn't recieve praise from those stuck up gits, so there was no point spreading the word on what happened. I passed Pilus again on the way back, charging towards his precious keep.
Too late to be the hero mate, too late.
(( True story about some Blood Elf I fought in Westbrook Garrison. I lost, but it's always fun to write about it. ))
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