[1] Adrielle Jainrose: Hillsbrad Onwards!

The Regiment had begun the trip in no time. Adrielle was an odd concoction of emotions when they passed under the great Stormwind gate into the forest of Elwynn; a mixture of excitement, laced with fear and the sadness of missing the place that had become home over the past five years… and her cat.
Aboard her chestnut Westfallien mare, Peppermint, the long line of blue and gold clad soldiers ahorsed mottled steeds wove through the forest of Elwynn like a patriotic snake. The mists were lightening to the east. Dawn, Adrielle thought to herself. She regarded her soldiers about her with contentment, she felt as bright as a button which comes with being used to rousing so early, however her colleagues could not quite say the same. She’d watched her commanding Colonel-Lieutenant, Bismack Bronze, sway side to side in a sickly manner aboard his brown Tanarian stallion. She could smell the alcohol off him from here, but it was a smell she’d grown accustom to, even began to enjoy. She urged her mare onward to come up in between Bronze and his equally hung-over brother, Jonathan – the sergeant, the Regiment had a penchant for nepotism.
“Here, have some water John. It’ll ease the headache.” Adrielle smiled and handed out a container, to have it pawed back to her.
“Shh, Jainrose. Everyone not talking to me makes the headache easier.” Jonathan growled. She turned to Bismack instead and tried again, he took it but poured it over his head then shook it loose like a common mutt, his long messy hair now flatter and clinging to his face.
“Cheers darling.” He grunted, then smoothed back the thick sodden locks back, and Adrielle couldn’t help but stare. He was dirty, but he was always dirty, but she didn’t mind; sometimes she liked how opposite they seemed, Bismack with his brash, brazen, wolfish ways, and herself, gentle like a lamb.
She didn’t remember how long she’d loved him for, and how long it’d gone noticed to everyone except him, but it was as far as she could remember. Adrielle loved his hazel eyes that pierced ahead, stern and strong. She could see so much of his father in him, which she also loved – having served under his father Major Samian Vancerdal before Bismack came to reign as the Colonel, she even loved that he was a bastard, lowborn just as she was. He suited his name, Bronze she mused. He was bronze, tanned and beautiful like a statue. She didn’t even care that he was cursed, she even loved that.

Adrielle had clearly been watching for a while, because she noticed Bismack’s hair was starting to dry, and that John was staring a hole into the side of her face. She risked a glance at him and returned the scowl.
“Stop that, Jainrose.” Grunted John.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Hissed Addy in response,
“You’re being a creep again.”
“Both of you shut the fuck up before I projectile creep all over your heads.” Rumbled Bismack unamusedly. And with that a hush fell over the three, despite a few met glowers between Adrielle and John. Let it go, Addy told herself. He only does it to wound me.
Their horses hooves rang against the weathered planks of an old wooden bridge, by the time they reached the other side, the Eastern sky was already turning pink, and the sleepy soldiers were beginning to come to life a little more. By the time the first shaft of sunlight broke through the clouds to the east, morning bells began to peal from the town in Westfall as they marched along golden grass, almost at the harbour. Bismack seemed to have recovered considerably and was up for conversation. John, Addy and he bantered as the glimmering water of the Westfallien sea came into view, kissing with the rising sun that swelled with orange and warmth as Bismack said clever cutting things that made her smile.
“I think this will be easy compared to Pandaria.” Nodded Addy, agreeing with herself.
Bismack grinned “You an expert on war now, Jainrose?”
“I’ve been in as many battles as you have!”
“Aye but I’ve never died.” The brothers barked with laughter. It was true though, Addy did technically die before the medic reanimated her. She still had the arrow scars on her back.
“You were in some state, Jainrose!” mused John. “Remember Mack? They brought her in with all the arrows poking out her back, lookin’ like a porcupine.”
“Aye,” Bismack whistled. “Close one. Thought I was gonna lose my wee Jainrose.” Bismack winked at her then looked ahead again, and Adrielle struggled to compose herself with the fluttering in her stomach, which her blazing cheeks made outwardly apparent.

“Hello.” Purred an effeminate voice, and instantly the butterflies in Adrielle’s gut were slew.
Natascha Moller trotted up to join the trio on a palamino, sandwiching Bismack between herself and Adrielle. It was quite apt, as it was always the case of Bismack in between them both, except Bismack would always sway to her, and he did. He leaned over to grab her shoulder and give it an affectionate squeeze.
“Hey Gorgeous.” Growled Bismack, generously giving Natashca the same wink he gave Adrielle, the one that meant so much mere moments ago. Now it was cheap, and worthless, quite like Natascha. Adrielle regarded her sourly, she had not-so-quite red hair, it was somewhere in between blonde, brunette and ginger, and was cut neatly about her shoulders. She had thick arched eyebrows; big lips, and an even bigger hind, she was curvaceous of figure where as Adrielle was closer to bony in comparison. It wasn’t her fault, she actually ate a lot, she just didn’t grow: upwards or outwards.
“Move up Jainrose, Natty’s almost in the bushes here.” Ordered Bismack, and Adrielle sullenly tugged on her mares reigns so John, Bismack and Natascha could move forward without her, and close the gaps. Natascha glanced over her shoulder to give Adrielle what might’ve been a grateful smile, but all she saw was smugness that was to be confirmed when she honked,
“Cheers, doll.”
Addy remembered the first time she’d heard Natascha’s voice. It was when Bismack had been almost killed by a corrupt Dwarven organisation. She fled to rescue him only to find her there instead. Offering no help, only crying and getting in the way, she knew Natascha loved Bismack too, maybe not as much as she did, but the frustrating thing is her minimalistic affection was reciprocated where as hers was not. All she had was her physique – the lights were on but no one was home in that woman’s head.

“Don’t worry, ma’am.” A very gruff, but recognisably female voice chimed at Adrielle’s side suddenly. It was Eninac Finn, a private the same as Natascha. Addy wasn’t quite sure when she’d slunk up to her side, but there she was, she was walking in her worgen form instead of riding like the rest. Finn gave her a toothy grin that looked more like a snarl, but having spent so much time around worgen, Addy could differentiate now.
“She’s a bleedin’ bimbo anyway.” Finn dropped a little pebble in Adrielle’s lap, and for a moment the two shared a mutual understanding. Addy pulled the ribbon out of her hair that kept her bangs back and popped the pebble inside of the hammock-like loop of the ribbon. She twirled it around like a lasso before letting go of one end of the piece of silk, and the pebble shot through the air and sunk into the fleshy hind of Natascha’s palamino. The beast screamed and threw it’s rider off into the shrubbery at the side of the road before shrinking in a trail of dust down a plain nearby. The line haulted and Bismack peered down at his beloved whilst she screamed obscenities, as Adrielle and Eninac parted between the worgen brothers, Addy beamed in passing and said simply:
“Now she’s in the bushes, sir.”