Feeling the call of duty to his people, a young blood elf rogue leaves the love of life behind to fight the Scourge. Returning to Silvermoon after many long years, Narizz looks for his beloved and is unprepared for what he finds.


1. Homecoming




Grey and white mist swirled impatiently around the rogue as he stalked his way through


the alien landscape, glimpsed occasionally as the fey mist parted. Twin spiked maces held at the


ready while his lime green eyes scanned continuously for unseen enemies. Each measured foot


step brought him closer to his goal...whatever it might be. The blood elf had no recollection how


he arrived here or where he was going other than something was compelling him to move


onward. The only sound was the creaking of his blackened leather armor even his breathing was


inaudible due to his years of martial training.


Slipping his enchanted cowl down from his head hadn’t help his senses determine what


was urging him forward despite his razor sharp senses reaching out all around to gather even the


slightest disturbance around him. So he continued his slow measured path forward toward an


unknown destination and possible enemies.


Several tense minutes later the mist dissolved as rapidly as it had appeared, revealing two


blood elves in dire peril. To the rogue’s left was a beautiful female sprawled out on her stomach


with a threatening darkness about to envelop her. She had managed to push herself up to her


elbows and was reaching out imploringly, tears cutting dark rivulets down her face as they cut


through the peacock blue kohl of her eye make-up.


His eyes were torn from the hapless lady by sounds of battle to his right. A lone paladin


was surrounded by a score of the undead Scourge. His shining armor hung in ribbons from a


bleeding body while his shield dangled broken, swinging wildly as the holy warrior swung his


glowing sword viciously side to side keeping the deadly mob at bay. Once the rogue believed


the elf fatally crushed but holy fire erupted from the ground causing the lifeless monsters to fall


back again in fear.


The two warriors’ eyes made contact and the rogue’s heart lurched into his throat. Slowly


he looked back at the young woman who was arching spasmodically as the darkness danced


around her and a weakness of the heart crept through him, dropping him to one knee.


“No. No it cannot be.” He spoke in a agonized whisper. “It isn’t fair to ask me to choose.


The heart of my heart or my...”


“Brother!” Yelled the paladin. “Brother, aid me! There are to many for me to face



Fear and loyalty drove the rogue to his feet and he made a step towards his doomed


sibling, but before he could take a second step the woman let out an anguished scream. He


stopped in mid-step and looked back at her. She was looking directly at him, long shapely


fingers reaching out to him. Eyes full of pain and terror begged him to come to her aid.


“Narizz! Nariizzzz!” She screamed as the shadow swirled around her, through her


making her lithe form spasm in agony. “Help me, my love! Help meeeeeeee!”


His heart breaking as it had done those many seasons ago, Narizz made the same choice


as he always did. “I am sorry Mellay, I am sorry my love.” With a hushed whisper Narizz rushed


to his brother’s aid chased by the ravaged screams of the tortured female elf.


“Narizz! I love you, please save me! Save Me! SAVE MEEEEE!!!!!” The screams tore


through him worse than any mortal weapon could or ever had.


Preparing to drive his maces into the back of a zombie, Narizz was stopped in mid thrust


as a pair of grass green eyes blinked into existence in front of him. Lime green flames sprung to

life around the pumpkin sized orbs and a menacing voice drove through the rogue’s head like




You betrayed it is my turn to return the favor...” Pain blossomed in his head


making the icicle voice seem pleasant by comparison and it was Narizz’s turn to fall screaming


to the floor.


Reaching for his throbbing head in haste nearly caused the blood elf to fall from the


saddle of the wind rider as it made its approach to Silvermoon City. He must have dozed off on


the long flight from Undercity and he was grateful that he had secured the safety straps that had


prevented him from falling from the giant bat’s broad back to become a smear on the landscape


far below. The rogue had that dream many times but the eyes at the end had been new and so


had the mental attack. Narizz dreaded to think of the meaning behind the new edition, but it


changed his plans not at all. He was returning to the city of his birth after four cycles of the


seasons. Four long seasons spent in the service of one war or another as a part of the mercenary


group known simply as the Blooded. A fiercer group of Horde warriors was unknown and they


had fought many suicidal battles in the name of the Warchief, stealing victory after victory from


the Alliance and their allies. Narizz often wondered if that had been why he had stayed with the


notorious band, hoping that once maybe they would fail and free his tormented soul.


The alabaster white towers of Silvermoon rapidly drifted into view as the wind rider


raced across the Dead Scar, crimson banners fluttered atop those towers and balls of green-white


fey energy danced hypnotically between the lofty spires. A dull ache began to leech at Narizz’s


heart as he approached the magical blood elf city, memories that had been suppressed for years


flooded back unbidden nearly overwhelming the dour warrior, but years of military training


kicked in and squashed the unwanted intrusion. With a sigh Narizz dismounted the large brown


bat and rubbed a fist into the knotted muscles of his lower back.


Loosening the heavy spiked maces in their frogs, Narizz’s gaze lingered over the walls


and bridge that lead to the Shepard’s Gate and inhaled deeply. The sharp scent of magic covered


with the thick scent of the Eversong Forest with a hint of the sweet-musky odor of bloodthistle


brought a smile of remembrance to the elf’s handsome face.


“No matter what, it is good to be home even if possibly for the last time.” He spoke to


no one in particular. With a casual grace, he flipped the wind rider master a gold for her services.


“Keep the change, love.”


With an appreciative eye taking in Narizz’s muscular frame and the self-assured manner


he held himself the pretty blonde gave him a sly wink. “If there is anything else you’ll be


needing help with good sire, my shift ends at sundown.” She finished with a feral grin.


“If I don’t find what I’m looking for in the city I just might do that.” His smile matched


her own but she could tell by his eyes that his words were for her sake and that he wouldn’t


return. With a wistful sigh she watched as the rogue slipped his thick cloak over his head and


swiftly strolled through the city gates.


The self sweeping broom brought a chuckle to Narizz’s lips as it pursued a long-haired


tabby that had made itself comfortable on the stoop of the Dusty Lantern tavern. Making sure his


cloak shadowed his face he slipped into the dimly lit bar and hesitated momentarily as his eyes


adjusted to the low lighting. A cursory sweeping of the common room’s inhabitants showed


Narizz that his contact was sitting in a corner booth attempting to cajole a nervous buxom


barmaid out of more than her normal wares. The troll’s sky blue skin stood out in sharp contrast


to the pale skin of the young lass as he tried vainly to get his gangly arms around her slight waist.


With a dexterity of a veteran serving girl she deftly slipped the encircling embrace while keeping


the tankards full on her weaving platter.


“Good to see your way with women hasn’t changed Bolath.” Narizz gave his fellow


rogue one of his amused lopsided grins and folded his gauntleted hands across his chest.


“Nar! Good to see you, mon.” The troll rogue returned the elf’s smile with one of his


own, showing several sharpened teeth framed in by a pair of ivory tusks. All but forgotten, the


grateful lass slipped away, but not before whispering a thank you to Narizz that he dismissed


with a nonchalant wave. “Av.’ a seat an a drink on me.” Bolath motioned toward the empty side


of the booth with his hand while his eyes sadly watched the swaying backside of the barmaid


disappear into the mass of patrons around the treant-wood bar.


“Why don’t you find yourself a nice troll girl and settle down on some secluded jungle


island Bolath?” Nar ribbed as he slid into the cramped booth. The rogue made sure he could


slip his deadly maces free easily before he turned his attention back to his compatriot.


“Av’ you seen a troll woman up close mon? Dey got fangs! You know what dey do with


dem fangs, Nar?”


Narizz shook his head no and took a long pull from his tankard to hide his widening grin


so not to ruin his friend’s tirade.


“If you don’t satisfy dem, dey eat you with those fangs!” Bolath finished in a


conspiratorial whisper as he leaned towards the blood elf and shivered. Both fighters burst out in


laughter and raised their frothy tankards to one another.


“Battle, glory, and women,” proclaimed Narizz.


“Blades, praise, and babes,” answered Bolath.


“For the Horde!” They roared in unison and downed their mead filled mugs, not spilling


a drop of the precious amber liquid.


Wiping the froth from his lips with a heavily calloused hand, Bolath studied Narizz


intently, as if looking for something inside the elf.


Knowing his long time friend well, Narizz let the troll start the conversation on his own


terms rather than interrupt Bol’s mental musing. After a few awkward, silent minutes the troll


rogue let out a sigh of what seemed to be resignation to Narizz’s perceptive ears.


“You know Narizz, dis mark be no like any other you have been after. Dis one will


change you forever.” The previous mirth had fled from the troll’s normal mischievous eyes and


concern had settled in.


“I know my friend, but what choice do I have?” Narizz questioned, sorrow gilding his


quiet reply. “I should have put this demon to rest long ago.”


“Mebbee. Mebbee not.” The troll gave a noncommittal shrug of his lanky shoulders.


“What I do know is ‘dat you better keep your head straight or you won’t be cumin’ back from dis


one mon.”


“I will keep that in mind, Bolath. I swear it.” The rogue swore seeing the doubt in his


friend’s worry creased face. “Now where is she?”


Reluctantly Bolath answered, “Da Blue Peacock. She be workin’ at da Blue Peacock.”


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