Warcraft Fan Fiction ❯ Bloodstained Shadows - Chronicles of a Lost Soul ❯ Scarlet Dawn - Chapter 1 ( Chapter 1 )

Chapter 1:

 

 

I hate fishing. Its just so goddamn boring.

Okay, I like spending my time at the Darrowmere Lake, but... fishing? I haven't caught a single thing since I arrived here. I know I should have went to the coast in Tirisfal. But on the other hand, the villagers of Brill often warned me of the murlocs living there. And I know how weak I am. But here, at Darrowmere there are no such creatures, luckily for me.

Nevertheless, sunset is drawing nearer, and I should hurry home. Not to forget I promised Dad to meet him in front of the city gates to Lordaeron.

I get up, gather my belongings and start to make my way to the road. The area is safe and pleasant, too many settlements, so no dangerous animals would gather here, the city of Andorhal close by.

I reach the road linking Stratholme, the second biggest city, with our capital, Lordaeron City. I head west.

My family and I are originally from Northdale. Yet my father became a paladin of the Silver Hand. He became close friends with Uther the Lightbringer, as they fought together. Whilst my father became stronger, he easily reached one of the higher ranks inside the Silver Hand and soon he would have a position next to the king of Lordaeron in his personal guard. Then we moved to Brill, it was far more convenient also for my mother. She was a member of the Kirin Tor originally, but settled for my sake. Once I became old enough, she returned back to Dalaran for a few months. She was part of a magical research team, so while she was away the researches suffered a heavy setback. She promised to be home soon.

I pass through the fields, leaving farms behind me. I greet the guards of Andorhal as I see them. It can be handy if you always stay friendly with them. Sundown approaches, nonetheless the sun keeps smiling on and on. It is an incredibly warm day with almost no wind at all.

Yet I am still disappointed with myself not having been able to catch a single fish. It won't be a problem, we still have enough food at home, but I know that father would have been happy, he just loves fresh fish.

About half the way lies behind me, and I see the borders to the Tirisfal glades.

I hurry up a bit and after climbing a rather small hill I can already see the outer walls of Lordaeron.

I can already imagine how he's standing there in front of the gate, tapping his foot waiting for me. He will be mad if I arrive late. On the other hand, on the way home he will probably forget about it already, like every time. He is a gentle father, even though he doesn't have much time. I enjoy spending time with him. On the way home he will surely ask if I have decided yet. He knows I don't want to, but he is right. I have to. After all he is a knight of the Silver Hand and I'm his son. But still, I'm no good with a weapon. I tried, but I almost killed the dog of our neighbours by accident.

I come up the road leading towards the city. No one there. Am I too early? Well, I'll just wait here a moment or two. My father won't be late. The minutes pass, nothing happens. He wouldn't go home on his own, that wouldn't be like him.

The gates are opening! There he comes!

The huge doors swing open slowly. No one is coming out, no one going in.

What? Where is he? And why...? I make up my mind to go into the city looking for him by myself. Something is feeling wrong.

If I go to the thrown room, I shall find other guards I can ask. I pass through the gates, directly heading to the guards' chambers. As I pass the second gate I see flower petals lying everywhere on the floor. Looks as if someone important has come here. At the end of this hallway there is the thrown room. The door is wide open, how unusual. I enter. It is completely empty. What is going on here? Where is everybody? A mark of blood is on the floor and on the seat of the king. What happened here?!

I turn around. I don't exactly know why I am doing this. I have a strange feeling about all this. I slowly leave the city. I hear fierce laughter from everywhere. I hear screams of pain. Parts of the city collapse as I walk pass them. What is this?

Suddenly flames are everywhere. But still no dead bodies. Not even a single injured person. No one. Nothing.

Terror strikes me, I run out of the city directly towards my home in Brill.

I slam against the door as if it is locked. I hurry to get into the house. I am breathing heavily.

“Anybody home?” I pause, “Dad? Are you there?”

My heart is feeling as if it will burst out of my chest. I look into each room, nobody here. Where on earth is he?

I take another look into the kitchen and there he is, sitting at the table.

“Thank goodness you are already here.” I breath out heavily. He doesn't reply. “Are you okay, Dad?”

I hear a strange sound from him, something like a moaning. What is going on? Suddenly I don't want to get any closer, fear strikes me. What on earth? “D-d-d-dad?”

He slowly gets up from his chair, his arms and his head are hanging down. I take a step backwards. He turns around to face me. Horror strikes me once again. Lumps of flesh are missing in his arms and his torso. His eyes are glaring empty. Blood is dripping from his wounds. He slowly approaches me. I take another step backwards, and I fall.

I'm lying on the floor shivering, the thing that looks like my father approaching me.

I scream.

 

 

I scream.

Sweat is dripping out of every pore. I sit straight in my bed. That dream again. It feels so real, although it's nothing like the things that have happened in reality.

I get out of bed and take a look out of the window. It's still deep at night. The guards of Hearthglen are just changing shifts. So it is probably short after one o'clock.

I love the moonlight at this time of the year. It feels as if it is softer during springtime.

I know I should sleep, tomorrow is the last day for a long time that I can spend with Keira and Corren. They will leave tomorrow evening with the guarded caravan towards Dalaran.

By the end of the week, I suppose, I will have to leave here too. But, this is the way I have chosen, these are the ways we all want to go. I'm sure we will reunite eventually.

I take a mug of water and go back to the window.

I've been the youngest of us three as long as I can remember. In fact the two were a kind of family for me, after the deaths of my mother and father. My name is Marc Fipps. I clearly see my image in the mug of water, my grey eyes staring at me, my long dark hair resting on my shoulders. I'm originally from Northdale. When I was fourteen years old, I moved to Brill together with my family. I usually spent my time in the woods of Tirisfal and in the area around Andorhal. My mother was a magician, member of the Kirin Tor, specialized in arcane research. She died not too long ago when Dalaran was destroyed. It took a while for me to realize that. My father would have been crushed. But he too had already died. He was killed during the assassination of King Terenas Menethil by his own son Arthas.

From that day on I've been alone ever since. As the family member of a knight of the Silver Hand I was allowed to stay in Hearthglen for a while, by now it`s been roughly a year. Now everything has changed. The areas of Tirisfal are deserted. The regions to the south and east from here are only referred to as `Plaguelands'. Stratholme and Andorhal, as well as Lordaeron itself, lie in ruins. Hearthglen and the prosperous city of Tyr's Hand lie under siege to the remaining troops of the Scourge.

The only feelings that were by my side at those times were despair and the hatred against the un-living.

But one day, not to long after my arrival at Hearthglen, I met those two. Corren is a tall-grown young man in his mid-twenties with long blonde hair, his eyes blue as the sky. He has a bit of a stereotype paladin look on him, but it suits him well. He is a native from the kingdom of Lordaeron just as myself. He is perfectly built to be a paladin. He also has the faith you need. Calm and gentle, those are the two first things that come into my mind when I think of him. I have never seen him without his two-handed mace. It bears the symbol of his family, he is very fond of it. I look up to him like a little brother looks up to his elder, or maybe even like a son to his father. His aim is to join the remnants of the Silver Hand, I don't doubt that he would be a far better son to my father than I am.

The other one is a young mage named Keira. Her tan is a bit darker than that of most people at Hearthglen. Her hair is black and rather short. The green eyes of her give her a cat-like appearance. She is a bit smaller than myself and rather slim. She always wanted to go to Dalaran, since the destruction of the city she has been furious about helping building it up again. She practises every day in fire magic. It is far more destructive than arcane or ice, fitting her temper best.

We three have been best friends for about roughly a year now, it hurts to see everybody going into different directions, but I have to get myself together and focus on what lies ahead. I hope my father is proud of me after all, for I will become part of the Scarlet Crusade.

I have already met some former members of the Silver Hand here. Even one or two who knew my father and speak very high of him. I really have to catch up to him. At the end of the week the ceremony will take place and I will officially be welcomed as an apprentice.

I will become a priest. Okay, it's more of the medical part in the Crusade, but someone has to do it. And I'm no good with a weapon. I'll be happy when I master the few offensive spells every skilled priest knows here. I sigh.

I drink up and go back to bed. I have to be fit for tomorrow.

I don't fall asleep easily.