Ashes And Arrows: The Bright Fire

A novel involving my former WoW character Ashe and her adventures.

After the horrid destruction of Kezan caused by Deathwing tearing through the heart of the world we know as Azeroth, Âshe finds herself in the great Horde city of Orgrimmar. A stranger to these lands and with her entire family perishing to Deathwing's destructive power, she has sworn to carry on the legacy that is her family, many generations of proud Hunters. She soon find herself drawn to help heal the lands hurt by the Cataclysm and gets involved in a long journey, taking her far and wide to areas she could only dream of.

I want to point out, while there is ALOT of lore and actual facts from World of Warcraft involved in this story, there WILL be inconsistensies, seeing as it is still fanfiction, so do not take it serious.

Disclaimer - The name Ashe is in fact not stolen or nicked from League of Legends. I've had the name for roughly 10 years, ever since I started playing World of Warcraft back in Vanilla Beta.


22. A Red Sun Rises

 Âshe's body was starting to shiver. The ground had turned to sloppy mud and her leather boots were not enough to keep the cold out and the mixture of mud and rain had the leather feel heavier than usual. As she started wading through the muddy trail left by the horde of warriors, she felt her strength slowly drain out of her body. The battle with the footman had left her weary and disoriented.

 Âshe's eyesight started getting hazy. She had only dragged herself a few yards, yet her feet could not carry her any longer. She collapsed in the dirt. The tiny amount of grass still left on the ground grazed her soft, green skin, as she looked towards the pillar of smoke and flames rising from the Alliance camp. As the rain dripped from her cheeks and nose, she drifted off into the darkness.

 "Do you have everything you require, Targok?" While Nate was not an impatient man, Targok was taking far too long to to equip his armor and weapons. "Nearly there my blonde haired elf." Santian came back from the hallway. "Da path be cleared. I overheard a conversation from a nearby group of soldiers heading into da fray. Da General seem be surrounded. We need ta help him."

 Targok's face grew scarlet with anger by the mention of the General. "That half-ogre got himself into this. Let him rot." All three of the others looked curiously at the Orc in front of them, back into his massive plated armor. "You seem to have quite the temper for Ruk'Thar. Would care to elaborate?" Nate's diplomatic side came out clear as day to Ome. He knew that Orcs had anger management issues. Their wrath could only be quenched by the smell of fresh blood. Targok turned to face them in his full frontal posture. "The General and I, have history."


 As the mages stopped channeling the portals, Kevin rushed towards the battlefield. Before disappearing into the forest, Kevin handed one of the Archmages present in the camp a torn document. "New orders." The Archmage slowly rolled out the piece of rough paper in his hands and looked to the goblin. But he had already blinked away, heading straight for the heart of the skirmish.

 As Kevin ran through the tight area of trees, brushing aside the branches and leaves, he continued to gain more and more speed, as arcane magic rushed through his blood. Casting spells too rapidly could very easily kill you, if you did not pace yourself. Kevin knew this, but right now, all his knowledge was thrown out the window. He knew only one thing mattered. Saving the General's ass, hopeless as it might be. Having a dead General on his hands would not be good for his reputation.

 Kevin cared about more than just his reputation though, despite what many people think about goblins. While goblins value their reputation as much as their gold, goblins are living beings too, although many members of both the Alliance and Horde think less of the goblins and their greedy nature than they would a cockroach in their bathroom. As you can imagine, his life had never been easy, specially with him starting out being born into the Steamwheedle Cartel, the organization of neutral goblins in Azeroth. Growing up in Tanaris had taught him everything he needed to know about survival and the strength of being well prepared. He was raised in the unforgiving desert, a place where there is no law outside the main city of Gadgetzan. The bruisers and bouncers of the city were strict and swift in throwing out violators of the rules. While both Alliance and Horde were welcome within the gates, any violence was met with immediate death or banishment. The desert in Tanaris was fierce, plagued by much besides the conflict between the Alliance and Horde. Trolls, risen from the dead by the Witch Doctor Zum'rah, lead by their Chieftain, Ukorz Sandscalp and his relative Ruuzlu, in the ruins of Zul'Farrak to the north-west. To the south-east, the Bloodsail Buccaneers. Fearless band of pirates, roaming both Tanaris and the cape of Stranglethorn Vale. The tension between the Pirates and the Cartel has become increasingly fierce, to the point where the Pirates staged an all-out assault on Booty Bay. Luckily, with the help of Heroes of Azeroth, Booty Bay withstood the attack and repelled the Pirates back to Plunder Isle, where their leader Duke Falrevere is plotting his next move.

 Kevin's past was not one of his proudest moments, but was the one he remembered the clearest. The mistakes, the misery he had been through. The memories came rushing back through his mind, clear as day and with them, the pain. Kevin shook them off, for the time being. He had to keep focused. As he cleared the forest and entered the battlefield before him, he quickly scanned his surroundings. "This, will be like finding a needle in a haystack. Where are you, you ogre-headed buffoon?"


  Ruk'Thar's armor was covered in a thick coat of blood. His grasp around his axe was slipping. His strength was tapped out. In his short moment of disorientation, a nearby grunt had valiantly jumped to his rescue, taking a sword swing to the arm, cleanly removing it. The grunt felt no pain and killed the human in a mighty roar. As the blood gushed from his arm like a river of scarlet water, the grunt ripped off a piece of his cloth, quickly wrapping it with help from the General himself, tying the knot with his teeth. The General was dizzy. He put his large palm on the grunt's shoulder. "Thank you. I owe you, brother." The grunt nodded fast and charged off with a war-cry, landing his axe in the neck of a nearby Alliance fighter. Ruk'Thar knew he had no choice but to stand and fight. He mustered all his remaining strength and screamed at the top of his lungs. "FIGHT ON MY BROTHERS. NOTHING IS MORE GLORIOUS THAN TO DIE FIGHTING. LOK'TAR OGAR!"

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