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.

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14. Preparations

  The night had descended on Hyjal and in the horizon the moon had started to rise. Kevin had taken the longer path to Aessina's Grove. He wanted to make a stop at the camp outside Goldrinn's Shrine to see the mighty creature with his own eyes, but sadly he left disappointed. The Demigod had already left to assist Malfurion elsewhere. As Kevin approached the grove, the sighting of scorched earth gave him an uneasy feeling in his stomach. But when he noticed the lands had begun healing, his worries were put to rest. He entered the camp and was greeted by a few of the druids. When he asked for the whereabouts of Hamuul, he was directed further way west to the Whistling Grove.

  As he made his way through the battlefield still littered with ashes, he noticed a faint glow coming from the western forests, a ring of healing expanding from a single point, flourishing the grass, regrowing the flowers. As Kevin approached the point of healing, he found Hamuul in deep trance. Hamuul rose from his sitting position as Kevin moved closer. "Welcome mage, to the Whistling Grove. But I sense you're not here for pleasure." Kevin nooded. "I am looking for Ome and Âshe. Have you seen them?" Hamuul exhaled deeply. "I am afraid your friends are missing. A pair of our scouts found a bloody trail on their way to Aviana's Shrine. A clutch of arrows of same craftsmanship as ours were found at the side of the road. I'm sorry. But it seems your friends were victims to an ambush. We found no survivors."

 

  The smell of blood hung in the air. Targok was woken up by a gentle slap on the cheek. "Wake up sunshine. We don't have all day." Targok shook his head and tried clearing his eyes. After blinking a few times he quickly determined his situation. He was shackled in strong chains to a stone wall. The room had the stench of death and Targok assumed he was in a tomb or crypt. He was torn up pretty badly, but for the most part his armor had taken the blunt of the explosion blast earlier. He had only suffered a mild concussion as well as a little trauma. He tried pulling the chains, but he figured it would be no use with the chains mounted to the stone wall. "The prisoner is awake Captain." Targok now knew he had been captured by the Alliance and was probably looking at a painful interrogation. He scoffed at the thought. If they only knew how much torture he had endured previously.

  A Captain in shining blue and gold armor descended down the stairs and his footsteps suggested a light to medium sized Human, as they echoed down the small hallway. A large iron door was opened and the Captain approached Targok without hesitation. "I am sorry about the shackles my good Orc, I really am, but it can't be helped. If we didn't, you'd probably make a run for it and we'd be forced to bring you down." As the Captain was speaking, 4 guards in full armor with swords and shields entered the cell and took a corner of the room each, as the iron door behind them shut and locked from the outside. The cell itself was rather cozy for an imprisonment cell. A wooden table was placed in the middle of the room and Targok himself was sitting on one of the wooden chairs barely able to move without the chains reaching their full length. "Now, I need you to answer a simple question. What is your name Orc?" Targok grunted and looked at the Captain as he grabbed the wooden chair on the other side of the table, bringing it closer to Targok. "Have your soldier never heard of the mighty Targok Skullcleaver, Hero of the Horde?" The Captain formed a small smile across his lips as he put the chair a good meter from Targok and sat down. "Impressive. You are Targok? It's a pleasure to meet you."

  The Captain stretched his hand to meet Targok's halfway for a handshake, but as the Captain expected, Targok refused. "I am Captain Jones. I'd give you my full name, but I wouldn't want to have you hold a grudge against me." Targok chuckled lightly at the Captain's comment. "Is that so? Good. Because when I get out of here you won't have to worry about that, considering your guts will be flying through the air in a sky of blood." The Captain smiled and stood up. He walked closer to Targok, almost so close Targok could punch him if he wanted to. "I have the feeling we are going to have a great time together." Targok was filled with disgust being this close to a Human. The Captain ordered food and water into the cell and placed it next to Targok on the second chair. "Eat and drink Orc. You will need all your strength in the morning."

 

  "General Ruk'Thar! The army is in position and awaiting your command." Ruk'Thar smiled and rolled up the piece of paper on the table in front of him. "Very well. We attack by dawn. They won't know what hit them until it's too late." Ruk'Thar had planned the most perfect attack. Nothing could possibly go wrong, which is why Ruk'Thar still carried a deep doubt in his heart. A bulletproof plan often only revealed it's flaw in the heat of battle and by then it would be too late to correct his mistake. Now was when his training as a tactician would show it's true face. Would he be able to successfully carry out the order and achieve victory? Or would his men perish in a pointless attempt to do their duty, eventually leading to his own demise? As the moon made it's pass across the skies, Ruk'Thar went to his tent to rest and took one last look at the endless stream of tents and campfires in the valley below. His soldiers were ready for the battle of a lifetime.

 

  Âshe slowly opened her eyes and was immediately struck by enormous pain. She was laying next to a small campfire and on a rather tiny primitive mattress made of fur. She tried to get up in a sitting position but couldn't. The pain was too much for her. A calm and soothing voice with a hint of a weird accent she hadn't heard before, tried calming her down. "If you move too much, your stitches will be undone. Better be as still as possible." As soon as she heard the voice, she turned her head to see something she had not anticipated. A bright blue Draenei turned his head to face her. He was wearing heavy saronite plated armor with molten runes carved into the metal. If Âshe had to guess, she would have bet gold on the Draenei in front of her being a Warrior. "Curses. Why did you bring me here? What do you plan to do?" The Draenei laughed softly. "You and your friend was badly injured. As a peaceful man I couldn't just leave you both to die. This camp is slightly off the road. Your friend is recovering well."

  He pointed a finger to the other shadowy figure at the feet of Âshe. Ome was resting peacefully and was likewise covered in bandages. "You didn't answer my question. Why? We are sworn enemies. Why would an Alliance pig help a member of the Horde?" The Draenei scoffed in rejection of her name-calling. "I have a name you know. And considering you're the one in pain and wrapped in bandages, I would mind your tone." He waved a sword in her general direction. "Don't think I wouldn't hesitate to kill you with a single wrong move little Goblin." She had managed to pull herself into a comfortable sitting position. "You're right. I should be grateful, yet I am disgusted by the fact a member of the Alliance had to be the one saving me from death. No offense."

  The Draenei chuckled. "None taken. I am not exactly excited over having to save your lives either. In hindsight I would probably be executed for this if someone found out." Âshe could relate. She had done something similar in the past when she spared a young night elf and her family from death. She didn't feel great lying in her report, but it was the only way she could get away with her actions, something that would be most likely classified as treason these days. "So tell me. What is you name, kind soul?" Âshe was actually rather curious what the Draenei was doing here and why he helped her and Ome to recover. "My name is Mirza."

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