Stormwind 20 years ago was a different place. Much different than it was now. There were no sprawling dock works, slogged down along the banks of the sea that faced out towards the world at large from the shoreline. The Dwarven District was recently becoming established, with craftsmen and specialists from the City in the Mountains having made their way there while the Gnomes of Gnomereggan worked tirelessly digging the tunnel way that would eventually becoming the tram. Even in those days, the technologies of the future that were produced for the purpose of war were still not created. There were no siege tanks being assembled down by the dock yard, no communications device save for traditional written words, no motorized transportation, with Horses being the choice of beast of Burden.
Stormwind itself was a city still rebuilding from the horror of the past. The Orcish hordes having been beaten back, driven to their own world that was finalized in destruction before the loss of the Alliances heroes on that light forsaken planet. Those that had survived interred into camps, used for little more than labor, and watched over by bow and blade. There at the time was no hint at the future of what Stormwind would be. Not yet the cosmopolitan center of the Grand Alliance, the Kingdom and City itself were still recovering from War, and had yet to open its doors for the other races. The Draenei, the Kaldorei, the Worgen, and the Pandaren were no where to be seen within it's walls, and would not be for years to come.
Old Town at the time was by far the largest of the different sections of the City. While the priests and those of the Clerical class walled themselves off within the center of the city in the white stone of the Cathedral District, and the Mages worked tirelessly upon their research in the Mage District, walled off within the tower that overlooked the majority of the city itself, it was in Old Town that most of the residents lived. Within the cobbled stones, and the wooden buildings that jutted up and pressed upon the walls and each other lived a myriad of working class citizens. Bakers lived next to their locations. Ovens blazing within the buildings, puffing out billowing sweet smoke while selling in their stalls. Carpenters hacked and hewed at the wood that was brought in, crafting furniture from the mundane common use by the regular civilians, to the opulent artistry that came with the upper classes in various different baroque styles. Stonemasons themselves transformed stone from block to statue. Breaking them down to be used for either cobblestone, roadways, bridges, or even fountains and more. Scribes, Smiths, Brewers, and more lived within the older section of the city. Apartments built on top of one another in a maze of hallways, alleys and homes housed the majority of the civilians in Stormwind. Fathers, Mothers, Brothers, Sisters, Grandparents and other relations living and working with one another, trying to rebuild what the Orcs took, and let the memories of the ending of the Second War fade into just that. A memory.
Children played within the streets though, freed from the burdens of work and responsibility, at least for several years before they grew up towards adulthood. Running rampant through alleyways, with wooden sticks as swords they struck at one another. The echo of wood bouncing off the walls of buildings, followed shortly by the sound of laughter as they attacked each other in mock battles, replaying the horrors of a hellish war their elders told to them as innocent fun while they dueled with one another.
"Haha I got you!" One of the children yelled. The eldest of the group, who was skinny, with light blond hair as he pushed the tip of his stick into the side of one of his companions.
"Nuh uh! I'm a knight, I'm wearing plate stupid!" Said the other, short and round as he knocked away his companions stick-sword with a grunt. Trying to hit him in the leg as the third of the group came out from behind a rain barrel. Wet from having been splashed with the movement of hiding. His thick brown hair buzzed short while he stood on skinny legs. Swinging towards them both with what looked to have been a board of sorts stolen from some unlucky craftsman. "You both are stupid. I'm the Orc remember!"
"Ow! Rease! No fair, Orcs don't hide!" The oldest one said as he got struck in the arm, turning quickly to attack at the boy who struck him while his fatter friend rushed to his aid. The knights duel of honor done in face of the Orcish horde in boy form.
"Yea well my Dad said they did. So nyea!" Said Rease, sticking his tongue out to the other two as he turned to run.
"Yea well your Dad is dumb."
"No you are!"
"Dumb dumb dumb!"
And so they raced through the alley. Striking each other, cracking knuckles upon barked, dead wood, and bruising their bodies in their three boy war before coming to the edge of the alley, facing onto the street as peopled moved out the way from the center, clearing a path for a procession of Knights, ten in total upon horseback, as they rode through the streets on their way to the Castle proper. The boys, along with the other citizens stopped to look upon them as they rode. Awestruck now as their own tattered clothing paled in comparison to the gleaming blue and gold of the soldiers. Several of whom wore upon their chest the tabard not of Stormwind itself, but of a Silvered Hand, while several of the others wore ornate golden armor. The symbol of the Grand Marshals, and the Ornate weapons that they wielded. The procession making its way slowly as the boys huddled together to watch the Heroes of the Grand Alliance walk by.
"Those guys are so amazing. Did you see that one with the axe?" Said fat little Billy. Looking up towards the other two as the eldest, Darren, stood up on a crate to watch for a better vantage spot. His sword hand held up to block the sun from his gaze. "Yea! Look at those horses. Were those Paladins?" Darren asked excitedly. Rease himself standing there as he just watched. his hand tightening into a grip on his sword. His mind wandering in thought as the other two excitedly talked, sharing stories of Knightly valor and of the skill that it took to become a Knight, the greatest fighting force of the Grand Alliances army, and the stories that were told of their deeds.
Darren, of course noticed first Rease's quietness as he took the stick he held in hand, reaching down to poke the youngest kid on the shoulder as he spoke. "Stonefart, why are you so quiet? Normally you're all about Knights and stuff. Thats why we made you the Orc."
"It's nothing. No." he replied shaking his head.
"Ohhh don't be like that. Usually you're the mouthy one." Billy said, taking his turn to act along side Darren as he took his stick any poked and prodded the central boy, not wanting to give in and quit the game just yet despite the momentary excitement that had just occurred.
"Stop! No, alright. Alright." Yelled the young Rease, squirming away from the other two as he stepped back into the Alleyway to face them both as they looked to him, eager now to hear his words. Taking a moment to collect his thoughts into words, Rease looked up towards the other two, his mind determined now, seeking solace in the kindness of his friends at telling them of his own desires.
"I'm going to be a Knight one day." He said, determination within his voice, mustered into the voice of an 8 year old who knew what he wanted to be. His shoulders flexed, and muscles tightened as if proving to them both he intended to make good on his word. A moment or two passed, however, both Darren and Billy looking to the young Rease before looking to each other, snrking, and laughing, trying to contain their condescending thoughts from him.
"I'm serious!" Rease yelled, letting his voice echo off the walls of the wooden buildings as the other two slowly quelled their laughing.
"No you're not Rease. Knights are all Nobles, and Clerics, and rich people. Your Dads a Stonemason." Sneered Darren, looking down to the younger boy as Billy beside him laughed and continued on. "Yea Rease. Whats your Dad going to do, make you a suit of armor out of rocks or something?"
"I'm not joking! I will. I promise you that. I'll show you both. I'll be the greatest Knight that ever lived. I'll wear gleaming plate mail, wield a shiny sword, and I'll be strong." Rease replied with seriousness in his tone. Looking as hard as he could to the other two, not letting their ridicule sway him.
"Yea Rease? And what do you plan to do being a Knight? You can't fight." Darren asked, slowly easing off the ridicule of his friend, seeing for the first time the seriousness of the young boy.
"I'll learn. I'll learn. I'll be so great, that I'll protect everyone. I'll protect everyone, and I'll keep everyone safe. No one will ever get hurt with me around. I swear it, that's my vow."
"I'll protect everyone."
The sound of that promise echoed within his mind, twenty years later. The promise he made in that alley way sounding off within his memories as it flushed towards the surface of his thoughts. There he stood, his vow fulfilled to become a Knight. Standing in gleaming silvered armaments, wielding his silvered blade. Dented, dinged, and rusted, but otherwise all that he wanted, save for the last.
Thunder rumbled off in the distance, echoing off the mountains that surrounded the Terrordale area of the Plaugelands. Smoked, orange smog clouds of death hung still in the air, blocking the gaze of the abyss above as rain slowly fell from the sky. Pattering down upon the ruined cobblestone as Rease Stoneheart stood there above the remains of Crisana Swiftsong. Once lost to the Plaugewoods on a mission, brought back from her final rest by the Necromancer who held her thralled, she begged for the end to come to her as her soul burned in pain, and her body remained desiccated in death. Asking her leader, her Champion, her friend, to end it and send her back to her final reward in the Afterlife.
His expression pained, he knew it was his duty to see it through. She asked him, and he would not ask anyone else to do it as he stood, in front of the entirety of the Argent Onslaught strike force, to perform his obligation as their Leader to bring her peace.
One cut. One slice of his sword was all it took to make right once more. His face locked in pain and despair beneath the bangs of his sweat slicked hair as silence overtook the area. His vow broken as a Knight to protect everyone, as once more the harshness and cruelty of their work reminded them all of their own vows to the Crusade.
But for Rease Stoneheart, his mind wandered back to that Alleyway, and the words he said so many years ago. The first time he had thought about it in years. His final thought on it manifesting silently on his breath, and in his mind.
"I want to go home."
