Braghaman leaned back in his chair and glanced around the great room again. Madame Eva’s inn was as lively as it usually was. Adventurers of all stripes were coming and going, letting in the chill winter air. One gust shot through and hit the paladin like a knife. He shivered and then shifted closer to the hearth as he took another drink of his bourbon. Satisfied that the chill had been defeated, he started looking around again, only to find the owner of the inn standing at his shoulder.
“I trust all is well,” Madame Eva asked with a smile.
“As always,” Braghaman answered with his own smile and raising his mug.
Just then, another group of people stepped through the doors and walked up to the counter. Madame Eva nodded to the paladin before going to the group and getting them settled with a room for the evening. The group was a little loud for the room, joking about the number of skeletons that they had just defeated in the nearby cemetery. Their room acquired, they left to climb the stairs to the upper level.
Braghaman chuckled quietly and shook his head before taking another drink. As he lowered his mug, he found that Madame Eva had returned and was watching him closely.
“Lively group there,” Bragh said, nodding towards the stairs. “Seemed happy with their endeavors this evening.”
“True,” Eva replied.
“To be young again,” Bragh added, raising his mug in a toast.
“Yearning for more adventures, commander? Or are your days of galavanting around behind you now?”
“Oh I expect that I have a couple of adventures left in me,” Braghaman said slowly. “But I guess I’ve reached the point where I’m a little more picky with which ones I want to go on.”
“You’ve earned that right, of course.”
“Besides,” Bragh began as he shifted in his seat again, “training the newest paladins that Stormwind has to offer has its adventurous moments. Anyways, I think I’ve grown comfortable enjoying a semi-retired life with Niv. Let the younger generation have the fun for now.”
“Of course, commander,” Madame Eva said as she placed a hand on his shoulder. “Of course.” She turned and walked around the room to check in on other guests, but still noticing how the paladin sat facing the hearth, his gaze lost among the dancing flames.
There is a great deal I'd like to share with you since my visit to Darkshire. First and foremost, the rumors surrounding the reappearance of House Sunshield was true. My venture to the darkened wood was not in vain, and in this darkness - I found light once again. It started in the form of Sir Adamar Meadowcroft as he caught sight of me by the fountain. Of all the people that would bump into me first, I might have secretly hoped he was last. And not because I do not respect him or hold utmost admiration to his stature as a Knight, but more so due to my disappointment in myself for abandoning him when he might have needed me most.
Regardless, I have found peace with myself since then in the short time among Lady Sunshield and the other Knights. It was a testament to my character and my inner strength to find courage in life that had fallen to my own self-doubt and darkness. The opportunity to reinvent and bring honor back to my life has been something of a blessing granted by Lady Sunshield. She has ensured me that my return was one that was forgiven and welcomed yet again.
So... Let me introduce you to, Sir Jonathan Folcard - he is the most collected of the knights and caters the embodiment of knighthood in word, deed, and through example. It is evident that he is the heart of the knights, if not the face. There is no doubt in my mind that Father would have spared no hesitancy in offering accolades of praise to Sir Folcard and saying something along the lines of... 'we need more men like you.'
Then there is Dame Eleysia Stormcrow, a Kal'dorei knight with ageless wisdom, ingenuity, and experience in the cursed land of Duskwood. My interactions with her have been brief, but she is an educator by the sounds of it. Perhaps that comes with being a guardian to a child, but... it's hard to say. My Mother would have certainly exchanged words with her about faith and the like. A conversation that I would likely lack the cadence of enjoyment for.
Sir Melek Dy'neer is another knight whose art comes in the way of secrecy, observation, and adaptation. While conversations with him were often unexpected and not arranged, his involvement in my own endeavors are most welcomed. Especially prior to my spar with Sir Adamar Meadowcroft. I would worry for anyone that should cross him or betray his trust, as his tactics are designed for accuracy and efficiency with lethal outcomes.
And of course, here I am returning back to my former Mentor. According to Adamar, my punishment for my breaking of oath was to tend to his son of 3 years. I have yet to meet this child of his, but it saddens me to know he is without his spouse. I don't imagine I will make his child any happier without his true mother present. But for both of their sake's, I'll see what it is I can actually do. And that spar I was mentioning earlier? Well... Adamar is quite formidable in the way of the shield and defense. Not to say his offensive abilities are anything to write off either... Especially given his connection with the light, I wonder how it came to be. He seemed especially taken aback that I kept good care of his former armor, which felt like the only thing I was capable of when I retreated from my duty. Oh, right... I'm deviating from the point... now back to the spar.
Let me just state the obvious. I am RUSTY. Despite my efforts to keep training by my sword. Considerable preparation was necessary after Branson provided me with new armor. Diary, make note, Branson is an eccentric dwarf with a penchant for bloodshed. I think he would sooner goad someone into a fight than service armor if he could choose to.
The chainmail is lighter than my former protection and it compromised my ability to adapt to footwork and apply strength aptly. Yet, Foe Reaper's in Westfall make for great adversaries on short notice. Nor do the farmers mind when it's one of their devices that are haywire that need cut down for service and re-acquisition.
Having had that experience before I engaged in combat with Adamar on a sleepless night was... exhausting. And there is more I must do to earn my honor and hold true to my oath. But no preparation at all would have likely told volumes in that spar. And instead, I found myself doing a fine dance with Adamar. Ugh... that's right... I will have to talk about dances later.
The exchange of our mock blades were not often, but they happened more than I fell prey to them. Needless to say however, when it comes to shields, I am sorely lacking in strategy and will need to invest further on penetrating such defenses when the need arises. Had it not been for my Lady's intervention to encourage me to carry her will, I might have seen myself out of the spar sooner. Yet, I can't help but wonder if there is still some anger harbored deep in Adamar after that use of spit. Or perhaps his effort to make it even was enough to satiate his former dismay in the way of a 'Wet Willy'. I shudder to know what prompted such a retaliation... Perhaps the evil in the world is not limited to demonstrations of crime, but harmless pranks as well.
But it would seem that I must return the favor of sorts to Adamar upon making my way to Southwatch. According to Lady Sunshield, I am within my right to act with retribution and sour the greaves he treads with. So, I am to make use of mud and... soil that which is a knight's responsibility to keep polished and presentable when representing the House they serve. There is no missing the image of my father rolling in his grave that I am going to enact this sin. But at the very least, it shall be all done afterwards. Or I should hope...
The arrival to the Keep will not be long now in Southwatch. Days have been spent attributing to my belongings and arrangements. Sheryl Fahnestock, a local farmer of Westfall has lent me Dopey, her trusted donkey for several days given that my horse was not available. I have been informed that my horse was borrowed when I was in town and I've yet to see it now.
And did I mention the fellow by the name of Finn Skylark? I'm not going to lie, my initial impression of him was... jaded. Perhaps it was due to the locals of Darkshire or my lack of interactions with him. He always seemed... unamused, disappointed, or... bothered by certain actions. When I gave my knee to Lady Sunshield, I think he questioned why I was so formal. Yet, after several conversations now - I think he is just a bit rough around the edges at first. It takes some continued conversation to get him to acknowledge you have a brain in your skull. I may not be the most gifted magic bearer or scholar, but I can tell when I'm feeling judged. And... recently we have come to a common ground for discussion regarding books and improving one's self. I'm looking forward to reading the books he lent me. In fact... Diary, he wrote one of the books! So this will make for passing the time before bed more enjoyable.
Diary, I know that this is a big passage this time around, and there is so much more I wish to discuss. Yet my hand aches from the handling of my belongings prior to this move. To sum up my next thoughts, there are the Necrolords in Duskwood, the emergence of Nyrsylth and Freya, Grandma Mabel, the Kirin'tor Investigator, Mr. Greer, Ichibod, and more! OH AND THE DANCE! I fret greatly on this dance as such a talent was more of my mother's thing than my own. Father told me I was better off fighting than dancing. Now that I have to do both, I wonder what will come from it.
Soon I will have my own room in Southwatch and the deed with Adamar's boots will commence. Light, if I could commune with you, I would ask that if Adamar gets angry again to please guide him away from exposing the truth of my actions. Until next time, Diary.
“Daddy's home!” The door of the cottage tossed open with such force that the thick wood slammed against the wall. From somewhere at the back of the cottage a woman shouted to be calm but made no move to leave the cooking area to calm the puppy-like boys that tumbled over each other to get across the yard.
Duskwood was a dangerous place but the boys knew that as long as they didn’t cross the fence line they were safe. Their father had been diligent in making sure that guards were set to destroy any roaming undead, traps dotted the fence-line and of course the dogs that patrolled their small farm made short work of the massive Duskwood spiders when they got a bit too close for comfort.
- More below the cut -
The commotion the boys made drew those very hounds, great Gilnean bred beasts that bound towards the racing twins like muscle bound ponies with massive heads and drool dripping from their canine smiles. Mops of shaggy blond bounced around dirty faces as both boys and the pack of hounds reached the fence and waited.
Rule one. Never open the gate.
Rule two. Never reach past the gate.
So they waited.
A large figure could be seen walking down the path that wound through the trees, Darkshire was not very far but all that dared to live here knew the path’s somber peace was a lie. It has been long since the sun touched the forest floor and longer still since the dead had been allowed to lie in peace.
“DADDY HURRY UP!” One of the twins shouted, hands tucked behind his back to keep them from the fence. As he bounced about the hounds in pent up energy, hounds that waited or paced, caught up in the excitement of the moment.
“DAD-- “ The second twin, echoing the first, quieted. Unease flickering across his dirty face. The closer the figure got, the larger it became. A giant man? No. “D-daddy?” The hounds felt the fear, their entire lives had been cultivated and trained for a moment like this. They didn’t bark but bared their fangs and bullied the boys backwards towards the cottage as the abomination drew closer to the fence.
“SOMEONE HELP ME..” The doors of the Scarlet Raven were thrown open to admit a single man, his cloak ruined and coated with blood and gore. “The undead.. “
“Calm yourself, man.., the undead wont reach the town..” A man laughed, taking a drink before he continued. “The guards will stop them --”
“... no.. no.. listen to me. “ The man gripped the wall beside the door, gasping for air. “.. the undead, they are attacking my farm.. My boys.. My boys are in there…”
“I am listening.” The response came not from in front of him but behind, a silver haired man wearing a black tabard embellished with a sword and shield. “Marshall, my horse. Summon the guard, we’ll go at once. Man, your name?”
“Yes, Lord Sunshield.” The Marshall took off at a run, both men haunted by another cottage. Another time.
“Lord-- Lord Sunshield my name is Kharon Soto, I live just past the graveyard - please.”
“We go, you sta --”
“No! I have to come, I have traps and …” His haunted stare moved past the Lord’s shoulder.
“Listen to me, Kharon --” Whatever he was going to say, he thought better of it. “Ride with me. “ Lord Sunshield’s horse had already arrived, Mister Black leading the beast at a quick pace to the waiting men, even lending his knee for the noble to mount before tossing the farmer up behind him. “Tell me what you saw, how many?”
“Two.. I saw two..” Kharon gripped the saddle before him.
“Two..” The Lord repeated, curious. “Did you not have traps or a gun…”
“It .. it.. It was a … smaller man, skinny and fragile looking. I could have taken it- him- it... I know I could have but -but…” A soft sob broke through the man’s voice and he fought for a moment to breathe. “My boys.. “
“Kharon…”
“It was an abomination, I’ve never seen anything like it. Not tall but thick like a wagon. It had spikes coming out of its head and body, like it was meant to fight a town not a cottage. I could hear my boys callin for me…”
Lord Sunshield’s body twisted, his steady gaze moving back over his shoulder to lock onto the tear stained face of the man that babbled. A what? He stared while the farmer continued. “Call me a coward, call me a coward for not fighting for my kin but I knew I’d die… Darkshire was my only hope.” Nothing came, no sneers or grand oaths that things would be okay, instead the Lord’s stare moved back to the path they were taking. Behind them the thunder of the Sunshield knights led by the Marshall could be heard.
“Marshall HOLD...hoolllllddd… Chaynal draw it away from the cottage.” The Lord bellowed his orders as the Knights faced the abomination, no one could say that their arrival had been timely. The fence that guarded the cottage was downed and the bodies of large gilnean hounds were scattered about the ground. Archers were quick to down the smaller of the two attacking the cottage but the moment the controller died... the abomination had been freed to its own thoughts and pain - it took its blinding rage out on everything.
“Lord Sunshield behind you!” Kharon’s voice gave only a second of warning before Araian’s body was shoved forward by the attack that game from behind. The small tattled what it was before he could turn to face it. Worgen.
“Stay here.” Who he spoke to didn’t matter, the command was for all. Lord Sunshield’s thoughts flickered from past to present as he walked toward the battered and mangled door of the cottage. It was a thick wood that would have taken a good beating before it gave but … it had given. More hounds lay as sacrifices for the family they tried to protect and their mangled bodies tattled that they had fought well. His stare flicked over each to count before he stepped into the remnants of the cottage. Burned bread assaulted his senses and he absently slid the smoking pan into the water within the sink as he passed it. Life. It had been here what felt like just moments ago.
“Evelyn…” Did he call her name out loud? His lips compressed and he carefully moved past broken chairs and over tattered items.
“I am Lord Sunshield….” He called out. The floor groaned beneath the weight of his plate boot and he paused, his stare lowering to the floorboards. “It is over… the abomination has been defeated and Kharon waits.”
“Kharon!” A woman’s voice sounded from beneath the floor and Araian’s knees grew weak in relief.
“Clever woman…” He praised. “Stay where you are, I will send him in to help you climb out.” He turned, numbly walking the same path to take himself from the cottage. There at the end of the property the farmer stood with the men and women that had downed the undead, Jaxson’s hand resting on Kharon’s shoulder.
“They are hiding beneath the floor, come in and free your wife.” He waved one hand and stepped aside as the man scrambled past. The reunion was not one he wanted to listen to and so he rejoined his men. “We wait so they can pack and we will settle them inside of Darkshire. Jaxson, gather the hounds, I have no doubt the family lives this day because of them. They will be honored for the family’s sake.” An odd request, for sure, but it would be done.
[8 years later]
“Lord Sunshield!”
Araian shifted on his saddle, his granddaughter seated before him. A youth jogged to his side and grinned with well known mischief.
“Your hair is still as messy and face as dirty as I met you, Curtis.” Araian shook his head as he scolded. “What do you need today, we ride for Stormwind.”
“Two things! My mother thanks you for your search and she has come to terms with the fact that my father must have perished in Duskwood. The gold you have given her will allow her to move into the city and work there if she chooses, we will be going with her.”
“Good.” Araian’s lips thinned. Kharon’s disappearance was still a dark spot on his mind.
“Second.” From behind his back a small bundle was pulled, it instantly peed on the ground and the teen held the large puppy away from his body for a moment before he passed it up unto Haven’s awaiting hands. “We gotta litter of good ones, he’ll work hard for you. Their grand-sire was a fine dog..”
“It was..” Araian agreed, raising his voice to be heard over Haven’s squealing.
“Thank you, boy!” Haven laughed, fragmenting her attention from the puppy to remember her manners.
“You are welcome, my lady. Should you need me? I am at your service.” Curtis bowed, his skinny body folding almost in half before with a childish wave, he jogged away.
“Do you have a name for it picked out?” Araian veered his horse towards the waiting guard, their escort to the city included the child’s nanny and house guard.
“I have to wait until he is old enough to tell me his name, papa…” Haven wrinkled her nose at him, as if he should have known.
1A arrived in Darkshire and immediately began questioning the locals on any suspicious activity. A couple of reports were given on activity at a tower to the east known as Beggar's Haunt and also to the west at Raven Hill. I ordered 1A to investigate the report on Beggar's Haunt, rendezvous back in Darkshire afterwards, then make for Raven Hill.
Upon approaching Raven Hill, several soldiers including myelf began showing symptoms of headaches but before we could react, we came across two individuals at the tower of Beggar's Haunt. I ordered CPL Ireliara to take CPL Laurelania Sullivan and RCT Dermos with her to question the individuals, a Gnome and a Draenei, as to their activities. The Gnome never responded but the Draenei male began to get defensive and demanded we leave as we were "trespassing on private property". Moments later the duo engaged with us.
During combat, the Gnome and Draenei mutated after exposing themselves to refined Void. We were unable to capture or subdue them and eventually eliminated the threat. Afterwards, we searched Beggar's Haunt to discover that research experiments had been ongoing in the area by injecting the refined Void into the local wildlife with the results being monitored. Inside the tower were several crates of refined Void.
At this time, CPL Sullivan and RCT Dermos reported that they saw smoke and heard screams coming from Darkshire. CDR Kenorian Felmourn ordered me to take most of 1A back to Darkshire to assist while he dealt with the research station at Beggar's Haunt.
1A rushed back to find Darkshire completely on fire. We immediately jumped in to action in an effort to put out the blaze when we noticed several civilians attacking one another and then us, shouting that we were "monsters" and under the influence of the "Old Gods". As we tried to maintain peace and subdue the more violent of the civilians, some of them mutated like the two individuals had at Beggar's haunt. We had no other option but to eliminate the threat.
The death of a child who'd transformed revealed to us that the whole incident had been a vision. Darkshire was not on fire and the civilians were not acting in a violent manner, except when to defend themselves and their loved ones from us. In reality, we had been the ones who were under the influence of visions and attacked and killed innocent civilians with no apparent cause of justification. Upon the realization, CDR Felmourn and I tried to keep 1A occupied with menial tasks and get those who remained of the populace to calm.
As per orders, I have kept 1A in Darkshire until we are to be relieved. We have begun reparations with the populace but I believe the damage is irreparable at this point.
- KCP Kelsey Tinkertorch, 1A CO
(( This AAR was handed in to CDR Kenorian Felmourn and will never see the light of day as once SI:7 arrives, they will assist in writing up a new one as part of their cover up. ))
