In Pieces

This is a piece of World of Warcraft fiction that I was writing on some time ago, but I lost interest, however, with the World of Warcraft Fan Fiction contest, I thought I would upload it and see what people think. Who knows? Your response may cause me to take up the project again.
For those of you who actually know World of Warcraft, the story is set in Gilneas during Vanilla WoW, and it centers on Thomas Redpaw, a former soldier and current Justicar in Greymane City.
Also, keep in mind that it was writtin before the launch of Cataclysm, so the details might not be right.


1. In Pieces


Howling. The aggressive, enthralling, lovely and erotic sound. Howling. It had happened, again, as it was going to keep happening. It was a necessity, a force of nature. It was inevitable.  Just minutes before I had felt the changing of my body. Then my muscles had become tense, my hair had grown rapidly, and my heart had started to beat at a speed that would make any stallion jealous. I could hear everything when I changed. I could hear a young couple in a dark ally a couple of hundred yards away, I could hear a crow landing on one of the street lamps fifty yards away, and I could hear the unusually fast thudding of my prey’s heart. All that I could hear just as clear as the little thud it made every time my soft paws hit the cobbled street. Another howl, but this time it didn’t come from me. It came from one of the pack members. We were three, and I was the first one, the alpha male. It was simple wolf psychology, but of course a wolf don’t have enough of a brain so you can call it psychology. It was more like primal instincts.  We were linked, not by minds, but by senses. Some over natural power linked our animalistic instincts, and made us able to hunt as a group, synchronize our minds. When we changed, we were one. We felt as one, we hunted as one, we fed as one. The prey had stopped, and so did we. He had run into an alley, he was desperate. The adrenaline was already pumping in his veins when we were chasing him, now his heart was pounding against his ribs so hard that even a normal human could hear it.  People who were sleeping in their beds didn’t hear us, or were neglecting us. They were either sleeping, or afraid of getting into trouble. We were at a crossroad. The two that were opposed to each other both lead into allies, the one encased completely by two large buildings, the other ended at a six feet tall wall. The prey had run into the first.  I came to a stop, and raised to my two backward legs, and howled into the darkness, signalling that I’d found the meal of the night. The other pack members came running to me in a matter of seconds, the first from my opposite direction, and the second jumped over the wall. Both of them were like me, at least six feet when standing tall, and covered in fur with big terrifying claws and teeth that could bite through wood. We were monsters. We were worgens. And as a slave to the worgen curse, we craved meat, and right now, there were only us and our prey.  We all walked slowly down the ally, down to the juicy, tender piece of meat that awaited us. I got a better look at him. He was about five feet tall, not particularly well build, not much physical strength, witch probably is why he had put his money on becoming a mage and not a warrior. And since he didn’t need an extremely good physical shape, he didn’t mind that he was overweight. Now he was probably wishing that he had cared a little more about his shape. The running had made him extremely tired, he wasn’t able to conjure any kind of magic. Or so I thought. The prey sunk down on the pavement, and looked at us with despair. To make a final stand, he withdrew a match from a pocket, scratched it against the wall, and a small flame lit. I was right when I thought he wouldn’t be able to conjure magic, but he could apparently control an element if it was close enough. He held is hand over the flame, nurturing it. Then he stood up as we came closer, and before I knew it, the flame was at the size of an apple. He mumbled some magic word, and the fireball came rushing against us. With only a second to spare, I threw myself towards the side, barely dodging the fiery death. Only my whiskers were slightly burned, but the one standing behind me suffered a direct hit by the fireball, and fell to the ground, rolling around like a wild dog, trying to put out the flames in his mane.  I felt the anger rising inside me, now I was angry. The mage now stood up with a posture signalling renewed faith. He actually believed that he would get out of this alive. I would show him differently.  He produced another fireball from his palm, and fired. Again I only dodged it by inches, but my other brother got hit as well.  Now the blood rush was running extremely high. My next move was based on pure instinct, I had to protect my pack at any cost, and right now that meant eliminating the danger. I went down on all four, and sprinted towards my prey as fast as I could. In less than a second, and before he could even blink, I had his neck and the arm with the match, in an iron grip.  He tried to say something, “ Please, mercy! I could feel the blood pumping through his veins, and the meat just begging to be torn apart and eaten, and inside myself, I thought ‘ not tonight Aranas, not tonight!   What had happened? Those were the words that filled my head. What had happened last night?  My headache was terrible, but they were every morning. The headache, the soreness, the stink of alcohol. The occasional smell of vomit. I looked down at my nearly naked body, and studied myself. Excellent body, muscled. Something I’d earned during my years as a gilnean soldier, ranger, and now SCI, special crime investigator.  But my muscles wasn’t the most outstanding feature about me, it was the ink. I’d gotten my first tattoo during my early years, it was demonic runes placed in a circle around my heart (me and some of my mates wanted to do a demonic ritual but failed), the second was the crest of Gilneas on the upper part of my right arm (me and the other lads in the 13th ranger legion had gotten it when Gilneas decided to participate in the Second War), and one of the dwarves flying machine with the words They Came From Behind! written under it (I’d gotten it as a tribute to the dwarves that were shot down by the Hordes dragon riders). And those were only the most noticeable.  I looked to the right and glanced at the clock on my nightstand, and realized how late it was, nearly twelve! I jumped out of bed and found the nearest suit. Black jacket, pants, vest and tie along with a white shirt. I put on the shirt, vest and tie but neglecting to button the vest or tying the tie. On with socks, shoes and the jacket. Then I quickly used a comb so my dull red hair didn’t look like a haystack. Before I left my house I grabbed a piece of bread, put on a black overcoat along with my black loosely-threaded hat. I ran down to the village’s stable, and loosened the reins for my stallion Firanz. I didn’t have time to greet the town’s people when I rode out, or “appreciate” the foggy weather. Of course the weather was always foggy and or rainy. We rarely see the sun in Gilneas. The ride wasn’t long; my village was roughly five miles out of Greymane City. It would take maybe half an hour or a little more. I used the ride to think about what Godfrey would say. Lord Godfrey. He was the main driving force to have the Special Crime Division shot down, and just let the guards take care of the crime around in the country. He was going to trump up at my desk later today in his fancy runecloth suite and his ridiculously tall tophat. Of course everyone in Gilneas dressed like that, but he was always bragging about the major amount of runecloth he had imported before Greymane had sealed the Kingdom off. These days he was living the good life, making absurdly huge amounts of money on his trades with the tailors, both the ones who made mass fabrication, and private tailors who only sewed to the ones who required real quality and had the money for it.  He would say something along the lines: It is unacceptable that the money people pay to the state has to be wasted on an Investigator that don’t even bother to show up at work on time! Then I would use an argument about our success rate. It was quite remarkable; we had caught 95% of the bad guys in our murder cases. Maybe I was lucky and this was going to be a crimeless Wednesday, in that case I could claim I had gone out for lunch, and the people at my office would definitely back me up. Godfrey was a pain in the ass for everyone; even Greymane had a problem with the guy.  I dwelled on the thought of what would happen if Godfrey got his will. I don’t know what I would do with myself if I didn’t have my job. This and my two kids was the biggest part I had left in my life. There were of course my friends from the old days, but many of them were either dead or not so close to the capital that you could visit them every day. Before I knew it, I was at the main bridge leading over the moat into the capital city.  Firenz kept a light trot while crossing the bridge. When we came to the end of the bridge, guard Adams was sitting nice and comfortable inside his little stone hut, doing the crosswords like usually. It was his job to ask people what their business were in the city, and he could be quite annoying if he kept a grudge against someone. “Good morning Thomas” Adams said with sarcasm overflowing from his lips. The son of a bitch was enjoying this. “Nice, real nice Adams. Get back to your crosswords.” I didn’t have much care for the man. He actually enjoyed delaying the farmers from selling their corn.  Greymane City was very crowded at this time of day. People were clammed up in the narrow cobbled streets between the dark gothic houses that were everywhere. Wherever you looked there were people offering to sell everything from food to jewelry. There were even women in the dark allies, attempting to sell themselves to every man with money that crossed their paths.  It was a void in the Kingdom, like a big black pit. Thieves and beggars, crowding in the slum dog quarters. Deceases were not uncommon when the underclass assembled themselves in the gutter and ghettoes. If you were focusing on the negatives, you could say that the entire city was filled with people who were filled with shit. Whores, politicians, thieves. All hypocrites. I’d known noblemen who had complained about all the prostitutes in the city, and who I’d later watched pay for one, a judge who had been on a crusade to rid the upper class of all those corrupt and penny-pinching, it had later come to the light of day that he had let himself be bribed on several cases.  Many gilneans thought that way, but the train of thought were also the opposite for equally many gilneans. Meanwhile the rest of the population was a bit of both. But it was hard to keep up morale in this country. Bad weather every day of the week, sealed off from the rest of the world, and a very distinguished social subdivision. I slowly trotted down into the stables, and bought two apples on the way.  Once I got to the stables, I threw a gold coin to the stable boy, and gave Firanz the apple. The streets were crowded, so when I looked at my pocket watch, the clock was almost one when I reached the office.  A building bigger than mine, of course it should be big enough to contain the law enforcement that the city needed. The criminals were not kept here though. They were taken to prison cells build in the underground. About half a mile under the city. Before the Greymane wall was build, the King had hired dwarven miners - the best of the best - to build and stabilize the caverns. It had nearly brought Gilneas into bankruptcy, but the dwarves had found something down there that not even I know of. It had suddenly made the miners cut their price in half. When I walked into the building, the room was filled, as always. Never a rest for the Greymane City Guard. Always someone who have been accused of a crime or someone is reporting a crime, or some nutcase who reports that their cats have been stolen. It was always a mess in the front hall. Luckily I was going up two storages. To the special department. There we took care of things like smuggling, extortion, but mostly murder cases. After the long walk up the stairs, I was met by Miranda’s surprisingly cheerful look.  The woman was in her early fifties, wearing a brown dress matching her age and her silver hair bound into a knot. She worked as the secretary, which pretty much consisted of taking notes of the cases we were assigned to. Feeling my stomach growl, I quickly located the freshly baked bread we got delivered every morning, swooped over there and took a piece. After having taken my first bite, I commented on Miranda’s joyful state of mind, “What are you so happy about?” “Oh, nothing. Except of course the fact that you should’ve been here about five hours ago.”  I sensed she was evading something. “And?” “Oh yeah, you are suppose to be in a dark alley up in the northern end of town.” “Uptown? What happened, some mage got robbed of his cloak?” It was highly likely. Someone with good connections was robbed of his herb pouch, and he wanted the best of the best to investigate. “No, not robbed. Killed.” The room immediately got a little gloomier, like a dark cloud had just touched down on this exact building. “You serious?” “Am I sure? Of course I am sure. Haven’t you noticed half the office is empty?” I looked around, and noticed that everyone that worked in the field was missing from the office. “Where in uptown?” “The ally right up against the Kinmen’s house, you cannot miss it. Especially considering there probably is an entire mob around the crime scene.” She looked up from her half glasses when I was about to leave, “And Thomas.” “Yeah?” “Tie your tie.” I looked down at myself and realized that I hadn’t tied my tie, or buttoned my vest yet. I blinked at Miranda and went down the stairs. When walking back out the front hall, I noticed a familiar face among all the people. Timear ’Tim’ Kinmen. He was a member of the Kinmen family, and a small-time warlock. I had arrested him a couple of times. I’d caught him during an illegal summoning. It was a coincidence, because the neighbors had complained about the noise. Of course the noise was coming from the demon he and some of his friends had summoned. They’d lost control of the summoned felguard and it had started to ravage the house. When I and one of the city guards had come to notice the Kinmens, the guard had been beaten to a bloody pope. I’d gone out from there with a couple of broken ribs, but the demon was safely on the way back to the twisting nether. But what was he doing here now? Probably taken in for questioning.  Maybe I should have a talk with him once I came back to the office.  The streets were still crowded when I came out. The walk to the Kinmens didn’t take as long as expected. Miranda was right; there was a huge mob around, trying to catch a glint of the misery.  I reached inside my coat, to find my Investigator Badge, a piece of leather with a piece of gold formed like the gilnean crest, but it wasn’t there. Must’ve left it at home. I managed to get around the mob by asking people to get out of my way. “What are we looking at?” I asked the guard at the entrance to the ally. “Guy got mutilated by an animal.” “Really? I’m just going to scoop it out,” but when I tried to walk past him, he stopped me. “Don’t you know who I am?” “No. And journalists isn’t getting past this line” he said as if he owned the place.  “Are you kidding me?” this guy was obviously new on the job, which was visible. To me at least. It was a normal thing for me to read people really easy. And this guy was shining with joy; obviously he was enjoying the authority the uniform gave him. “Oi! Jasper!” One of my co-workers. I got a quick look at him behind the guard. “And he finally shows up! Where have you been Thomas?”  “Nowhere, now would you tell this moron to let me in?” “Say pretty please,” Jasper loved to torture me about my drinking habits. I tilted my head to the side and Jasper caved. “Let the man in, he happens to be the one who’s going to solve this mess.” The guard stood down and let me pass; looking rather embarrassed I might add.  As we walked down the alley, Jasper looked at my clothes, “By the Light, is that the same suit you had on yesterday?” He took a closer look, “Yes it is, and you’re not even trying to hide it.” “What’d mean?” “Tie your tie, and button your vest.” And now I did. First I tied my tie with a lose knot, and buttoned my vest neglecting the top button, there was no reason in trying to look glamorous at the scene of a murder. “Is it true he guy got mutilated by an animal?” “Yeah, he was ripped apart. Looks like a bear did it.” I looked around, sizing up the ally. “How the bloody hell did a bear get in here?” “I’ve got no idea mate,” he had a grim look, “And I don’t think it was just a bear.” “What makes you say that?” But I was about to find out. There, at the end of the dark ally, in a pool of blood, were the remains of a body lying. His head was detached from the rest of the body, and the body itself was nearly indescribable. The torso was ripped open, and the ribs that were sticking out were either broken or bend in a grotesque direction. The legs looked like they had been twisted around and around until the spine had just broken off. He really was in pieces… 
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