Gilnean Ferocity

Gilnean Ferocity

As the cold sea wind brought shivers to me with its caress, I trembled in the shadows, the daunting monolithic Lighthouse observing my doubt with impassionate silence. The rest of the latest squad posted out to serve in The Battle of Gilneas were divided between the Goldmines and the Waterworks, I could hear the fighting in the mines drifting down the hill before me, conjuring violent horrors in the enveloping sea mists. I stood alone, unseen, the only guard to the only secured banner secured in this current conflict, and it seemed to me that I, like this resource, was forgotten to all.
Not all I saw! As from nowhere the Goblin Rogue was before our banner, untying it, unwinding it, claiming for the Horde the only base we held. For a moment I thought to issue a warning on the channel the other men used, but no, the rest were engaged, there was only one foe, and I always shied away from such open aired talk. Being the only Rogue on the Alliance side, I thought no more, stepping through the shadows I ambushed him before his deed was done. Following with a barrage of strikes; and a finisher that did not drop him, to my dismay he vanished, and was gone. Knowing time was not a friend, I followed suit, and in vanishing I scoured the grounds around. The duel had begun.
To and fro I swept, back and forth in the unseen dance of two, forever assigned to the death race of rogues. But no further sign could I find. Over the hill rode a Human Paladin, galloping down from the mines to check on the unguarded Lighthouse. In seeing me his brow wrinkled in confusion under his helm, he made to question me, and I thought to brief him on the Alliance Battleground channel, but again my aversion to public announcement stayed my resolve. “Rogue…” I said aloud, before I felt a wind in my ear, my position was known, the Goblin was near, and I quickly danced away, circling the Lighthouse again. The Paladin galloped back and forth on his steed, aiding me in my hunt, and I felt then, that this fight would soon be done.
But he reigned in his horse, snorted his derision over this affair as a call came over the airwaves for support to the mines, and he thundered away, back up over the hill, to rejoin the clamorous conflict for gold. I stared agape at his departure, could not believe such recklessness over such a pivotal point, we held only one base, and was I, the lone Rogue, meant to stand alone? As if to further crush in these seeds of doubt, a fierce Orc Warrior descended the hill from where the Paladin had gone, wounded, blood dripping from his dented plate, but he raced for the banner with spine chilling abandon. Proceeding to tear at our banner, I swallowed my dread. Our men were fighting for their lives over the other two bases; I could not call them away with a plea for aid when this was my watch. I had to hold this base, even if death itself was my only waiting friend.
So I struck through the shadows, my blades barely scraping through his elementium forged gear, and he shuddered once, letting out a grunt, then an earsplitting battle cry that almost made me wilt. He turned in my direction, his eyes gone to monstrous bloodlust, and my eyes darted searchingly to the hill, hoping for the sight of allies rushing to my aid, though the hill was bare. He lunged forth, and I called on heightened combat readiness and used all my training in evasion, and dodged once, twice, three times, but the brute then landed a blow, internal blood welled up in my throat. As I reeled, the Goblin Rogue ambushed from behind, rending my back with vicious strikes.
Falling to one knee, the mists around seemed to fill my vision, I could see memories of my youth swirling in my mind, and the cold sea breeze seemed to blow through my soul, the icy grip of death was enclosing me. The Orc Warrior raised his massive sword, the Goblin Rogue sniggered as he drew back his daggers, and I threw out one last desperate kidney shot to the Orc, stalling him for but a heartbeat, as he called on his Insignia of the Horde. My last hope dwindled in the rage of his eyes, he shrugged off his weakness, and his sword fell.
How long he had been waiting, I never have known, not even to this very day.
The Worgen Feral Druid came from nowhere, his feline form slamming into the Orc, mangling his chest, letting out a beastly roar and yelling “Rawr! I is fierce!”
The grievously wounded Orc cried in surprise, and I spun on the Rogue, lashing at his gut. He vanished once more, sprinted for safety, as the mighty cat delivered a ferocious bite that sent the Orc’s dead corpse forever beneath the banner he had tried to claim. I rose to my feet, stealthed once more, calling on a cloak of shadows to see off my crippled weakness. Together the heroic cat and I weaved around in search of that Rogue, but he dared not reveal himself a third time, and as the battle drew close to an end, the Lighthouse was safe, and in the final hour, the Goldmines were ours. The Alliance had won the day.
I never saw that Druid again, I never got his name, did not even witness his true form, Worgen or man form, but he had saved my life. As we departed Gilneas, and the Healers saw to my wounds, I’m sure that cat looked back at me once, winked, and smiled a toothy smile.

End