A Break

Elsharin entered the inn to find Laila precariously perched atop a ladder, patching a hole in the wall. Nearby, Heather the innkeeper changing the bed linens. She looked up as Elsharin entered, blushed and then went back to her work, too shy to speak. That happened often to the high elf. Her kind had not been seen in this rural area for years and most didn’t know quite what to make of her.

Laila smiled as she came in. “Hello, El,” she said, cheerily. “Do you have leave today too? Want to help us do some fixing up around here?” Elsharin grimaced. Laila loved to work with her hands, but Elsharin was a mage born and bred. She preferred intellectual pursuits to physical ones, and if she had time off she would be speeding back to Stormwind or simply relaxing with a book. She had been pleasantly surprised to find that the people of Westfall valued books and reading and the farmers and locals had made sure to save their books when leaving home. They had each marked their names in the books, and then put them into a small library in the inn so that everyone could enjoy them until it was safe to go home.

“No Laila, no leave for me. I have to go meet with someone shortly, but I thought I would come speak with you before I go. May I?”

“Certainly!” Always cheerful, Laila dusted herself off and hopped down from her perch. Elsharin had come to know this grinning, eager-to-please personality as Laila’s true personality, which came as a surprise since when they had first met she had been an admixture of anger, disappointment, hurt, and shame. She was young though. Elsharin could barely remember being that young, but she knew that youths of that age felt emotion more keenly. Even the slightest setbacks were world-ending to them.

Laila and Elsharin sat down at a rickety table and Elsharin looked a Laila seriously to indicate this was a serious, not a lighthearted conversation.

“Laila,” she said, “You have been given a three-day leave.”

“Yes,” said Laila. “And?”

“Three days is a long leave. As long as you’re like to get. A gryphon ride is cheap and can put you back in Goldshire in less than a half day. Yet you choose to stay here and do menial labor. Why is that?”

Laila scowled at her. “Why does there have to be a reason? I like it here. Even though it’s in this beleaguered state, I feel more at home here than I did in Goldshire. I have even been thinking of settling here permanently, when it becomes possible.”

“So you have said, and I think that is a good thing, but finding your future does not erase your past. Master Wefhellt has been asking after you and says you have not been in touch. He says you have friends in Goldshire, or perhaps one friend in particular who is upset at your silence. I know you spent 18 years at the Abbey there and yet you have not been back once.”

Laila’s face grew stubborn. “So? Perhaps I want to move forward, and not backwards. I have all the time in the world to go back. I want to get to what’s next!”

“Laila. Do you not understand what you do here? You speak as if you are invincible. You do not know how much time you have. What we do here is dangerous. You may not live to see your next birthday, let alone spend all the time in the world waiting to feel better about whatever it is that bothers you and keeps you away from your past. Whoever it is you are afraid to see, you may never have the chance to see again if you wait too long.”

Laila grew pale. “Please … I … I know I must deal with this fear but I cannot just yet. I just need a little more time. It is probably hard for you to understand, who have lived so long. But I have so much I must deal with, and I can only do a little at a time. Here I finally am, where the very heart of the Defias beats. The Defias that killed my parents. This is my oldest wound and it is the one I must deal with first. Once I have healed this most basic and fundamental of my scars, then I will be ready to take on the next.”

Elsharin sighed. “I do understand a little, I suppose. I do not see why you cannot work on both things at once, but as you say, you are young. And it is not for me to tell you how to live your life. I may command you in military matters, but not in this.”

Laila nodded and patted Elsharin’s hand. “Thank you for understanding. At least, as far as you are able. Believe me, I understand that I am a bit … broken, right now. But I am self-aware, and I am working on it. I will be back to Goldshire when I am ready. I just need a little more time to be ready. I am aware that I may never get that time, but that is the risk I take with the path I have chosen. Do not worry about me though, I am happy, for the most part, where I am. I will be all right, I promise.”

Elsharin smiled then. Humans were resilient, as frail as they may seem to her. She had to keep reminding herself of that. “Very well then, continue on with your labors here. I had better go to my meeting anyway. Perhaps I will see you at supper.”

“Perhaps,” said Laila, jumping back up to her perch. She did look happy, actually, mending her little corner of the inn.

Harrying the Defias

Patrolling Westfall with the People's Militia

“Stay in the shadows,” Laila heard a quiet voice warn her. Gathering her twilight-hued robes around her, she shrank into the darkness as much as possible.

“Wilhelm is setting everything up. All you need to do is wait, you will know when it is time to come out because you can hardly miss the explosion that will occur. At that time, Defias will be coming toward the chaos, trying to figure out what’s happened. You need to blast them with all you have. If you notice any of our fires going out of control, try to stop them with your frost.”

Laila nodded, but didn’t say anything, afraid she would betray her nerves by the tremble in her voice. This was very different from an Elwynn Forest patrol. In Elwynn, most of the dangers were easily deterred by a patrol in uniform, and one rarely had to face violence unless you sought it out. Here, the Defias didn’t care. They knew the militia was not much stronger than their ragtag group, made up of farmers and crafters for the most part, just as the Defias had been. This was her first time working with sappers, and it was interesting to say the least. She found that magecraft and engineering abilities were very complimentary skills in a military unit and she was fascinated by the careful planning and strategy that went into their gambits.

This particular operation was fairly simple. They had discovered during one of their patrols that a group of Defias had begun a small smuggling operation utilizing the coastal waters. They had set up a makeshift dock and were selling the resources plundered from the people of Westfall to pirates and black market operatives. Not only was it an affront to the hardworking people of Westfall, but having such outsiders come and see the present state of Westfall would only exacerbate the situation, encouraging them to raid and pillage in the North away from the Defias strength, where the citizens were still barely holding on to some of their land and goods.

So the mission was very cut-and-dried. They were to destroy the dock, kill all of the Defias in the area, and then make that area of the coast as inhospitable to landing as possible, to discourage the next groups of people who came by sea seeking stolen goods. Hopefully they would return to where they came from, spreading the word that this new source of illicit trade was no more than a rumor.

Crouching for so long, Laila’s thighs began to ache, begging to be stretched. She was thirsty and hungry as well, but she dared not move until it was time to do so. Suddenly, she heard the crunch of gravel nearby as someone walked over the coarse sand. She tensed, not knowing whether it was friend or enemy. Then she sighed with relief as she heard Wilhelm’s gruff voice whisper sharply. “Ready.” She braced herself.

Not more than a moment later, the peaceful night silence was torn asunder by a flash of bright light and a thunderclap of noise. Laila dashed forward trying to keep calm and spot the Defias. She heard shouts and instinctively turned in that direction, seeing the telltale red scarves. She raised her staff and they exploded into flame. She checked the area, but the beach offered no real way for the fire to burn out of control. A few stray flaming pieces of wood floated harmlessly on the sea.

Suddenly she flew back as a rough hand grabbed her by the ponytail. “All right then girlie, think you’re pretty clever, don’t you? But even the cleverest rabbit finds a snare eventually, and I’ve caught you in mine, little rabbit. And I’m going to skin you alive to make a nice hat for Van Cleef.” Laila forced herself to continue breathing in and out slowly. She wasn’t going to panic. She wasn’t here alone and she was trained.

She spat and the trapper found himself frozen up to the ankles in a solid block of ice. Quickly she smashed him in the face with her staff and then lurched forward when his grip loosened. She ran forward towards the sea and then turned back to hurl a bolt at him but there was no need. One of her fellow patrolmen had overpowered him, knocked him out, and was already knotting him tightly with some strong twine.

“The Marshalls will want to interrogate him. We can maybe find something out about Van Cleef, if he truly knows anything about the man and wasn’t just bragging when he claimed to be in the business of being his haberdasher.”

“Good idea,” said Laila. She surveyed the beach and found their mission to be practically accomplished. The Defias were all dead, except for the one they had captured. The dock was destroyed. Two of the patrolmen took the prisoner back to Sentinel Hill quickly. The rest of them stayed behind and found whatever rocks and other menacing looking objects they could locate to make the beach look inhospitable. Laila felt a little sad. Coming to Westfall marked the first time she had seen the ocean and she had instantly fallen in love with it. She knew that there were lovelier beaches on other shores. The coast of Westfall was rather grey and forbidding, even on the sunniest days, but there was something about it that appealed to her. And she had a sense that the weather, the mineral-rich soil, and the salt air would grow excellent grapes for wine. She had written Milly Osgood back in Northshire to tell her about this place for when conditions were better. Laila had half a mind to inquire about a plot for herself. Having been in the army and having not many living expenses, she had been starting to accumulate a nest egg. Especially since she was able to supplement her income by gathering herbs as she patrolled and selling them to herbalists in the city or locally.

She sighed as she headed wearily back to Sentinel Hill.  A pipe dream for now. Westfall had a long way to go before it was free of the Defias influence and anyone could peacefully settle, especially out near the coast so far away from the militia’s influence. Someday, though. Someday, perhaps.

Arrival in Westfall

The woman that arrived from Westfall was virtually unrecognizable from the girl that had left Goldshire. Poised, inscrutible, and sober atop her mare, her mage’s robe was now the darker hue with the insignia of a specialist. Or at least, so Laila would have liked to have thought of the impression she made. In truth, to the survivors of Sentinel Hill, she looked little more than a child, green and untried. It was the high elf next to her that they all came out to gawk at and it was she who made their hearts swell with a bit of hope.

Most thought Laila her servant, if they noticed her at all. The past month in Westbrook Garrison had indeed changed Laila, much more than was apparent. She had learned discipline and she had also learned a bit about leadership and decisionmaking. But more important, she had learned more about the Defias. She had also realized that no matter what she told herself, the reason she stayed in the army was because of them. She had had plenty of opportunity to give it up and settle in Elwynn, her mentors always offered her that choice, and her sharp eye and cheerful demeanor could served her quite well as a florist and herbalist. But something kept her going and she realized that she simply could not settle while the Defias still roamed the land. They disrupted so many lives–had disrupted hers permanently.

One thing she had learned was that they had a leader. His name was Edwin Van Cleef. She had read through intelligence reports on the man and learned that he had always been a thief, but he was also a very skilled engineer and mason. After Stormwind was destroyed, he had been one of the first and foremost of volunteers to rebuild it. He was also one of the first and most vocal to rise against the city.

Laila grimaced. She couldn’t help but feel that while the Defias were a menace that needed to be quelled, the city did indeed owe some of these men reparations for their work. On the other hand, Van Cleef’s Defias had at this point wrested far more from travelers, citizens, nobles and the outlying landholdings than they could possibly have been owed and yet his men still were dirty, poor, and hungry. Van Cleef himself could have chosen to take his due for himself and his men and then put the entire matter to bed, but instead he carried on and it was increasingly clear that he desired nothing less than the utter destruction of Stormwind itself.

Laila still didn’t care all that much for the capital, but she was now fiercely protective of the simple and good people who lived in the surrounding countryside. No more innocents should die or have their hard work stolen from them by the Defias. Laila had determined that the single most important security efforts should be dedicated to finding and destroying Van Cleef. When he was gone, she believed that the Defias could be dissolved, especially if they were offered honest wages for honest work. She had seen the conditions they lived in and they weren’t nice. She believed that most, if not all of the lower level bandits would trade it in to work as a farmhand with room and board or to work as a real miner, rather than a slave of the Defias Brotherhood.

Which was what brought her to Westfall. After speaking up passionately for this within the council meetings of the Stormwind mages, they had finally come to agree slightly. At first they had barely listened, she was little more than a scribe to them. But Elsharin had heard and agreed with her, and her support had greatly swayed the other mages.

The intelligence reports they had suggested that the heaviest activity was in Westfall where the Defias has seized most of the property and there were rumors of a secret hideout underground where the leadership was to be found. Elsharin and Laila had been dispatched to meet with the leader of the volunteer army at Sentinel Hill in Westfall to offer their help. As they learned more, they were to report back and reinforcements may be sent as needed.

So here they were. A grizzled and grey man in a uniform they would soon identify as that of the People’s Militia of Westfall came out to greet them. He introduced himself as Gryan Stoutmantle. Laila had already heard talk of him in Westbrook Garrison. He apparently was a paladin from Lordaeron. No one knew how he had ended up in Westfall or why he was leading this militia. Laila knew well what had become of Lordaeron though, and she guessed that he did not want the same to happen to his new home. If he was anything like her, that is. On a smaller scale, her tale was not so different. On a much smaller scale.

He was pleased to see them, especially Elsharin. It was clear she was a high level mage. He assigned Laila to a motley team of snipers, rogues, and sappers. Their mission was to harry the low level Defias members and disrupt the business of the Defias in Westfall including the smuggling, hunting, and mining operations. She was a bit disappointed that she would be separated from Elsharin, who would be working on higher-level tactics and intelligence gathering. Elsharin promised Laila they would pull her in whenever possible. She knew how much this meant to Laila.

In the meantime, Laila got situated. Sentinel Hill was a makeshift place. Its main feature was the tower, which was the most secure location in the area, and had a commanding view of the surrounding area. Nearby, workmen were hastily building up buildings to create a village to house the refugees from the surrounding area. Sentinel Hill was truly the last refuge left in the region. If it fell, Westfall would belong completely to the Defias. As Laila made a spot for herself in the spare and as yet unfinished inn, which also served as a barracks, she pledged herself to defend this little town and help them to take back their land. Starting tomorrow.

 

Westbrook Garrison

By evening, Laila was back in Goldshire. She slipped quickly through the central square, cloak pulled over her face. She didn’t want to stop and talk to anyone, she just wanted to do her business quickly. She walked hastily up the stairs of the inn and knocked sharply on Master Wefhellt’s door.

“Back so soon, Laila? I felt sure you would stay another night.”

“I wanted to come back straight away, sir. I won’t be staying long, you see. Mistress Cannon has new orders for me.”

“New orders!” Master Wefhellt blustered, “She didn’t tell me of this. What are these new orders, lass? You’re still green, and we still have a lot of training to do! I am very worried about your ability to slow your fall, you must not use it until we can train more.”

“Do not fear, Master Wefhellt, I am not going far, I will be able to return for training. Mistress Cannon has requested that I be reposted to Westbrook Garrison.”

“Westbrook Garrison! But … why?”

Laila was silent for a bit. It hadn’t exactly been the initial request. Mistress Cannon had simply thought to use her as an errand girl around Goldshire, and just yesterday, Laila would have been happy to oblige. But something in Laila’s face had prompted the mage to question the girl, and Laila had ended up begging to be transferred. Mistress Cannon had looked thoughtful, and had told Laila about Westbrook Garrison.

Laila was shocked she had been considered for it, especially since she must have appeared a blubbering child. Westbrook Garrison was a true military barracks. Laila would be among veteran soldiers there, with all that entailed. Mistress Cannon had warned her that they were rough, and that Sumner Trask was a harsh taskmaster, but that was exactly what she wanted.

The incident at the inn had made her realize that in so many ways she was still a little girl. And here she was supposed to be a soldier. How could she face challenges if she was still essentially a child? And how could she rise through the ranks? She couldn’t expect people to take her seriously, couldn’t expect to ever lead people if she couldn’t grow up. The way to do that was to leave. She had had Edmond protecting her from the moment they stepped out of Northshire and he saw how naive she was. It was time she made it on her own, with all the hard knocks that entailed.

Laila snapped back to attention–she was supposed to be speaking to Master Wefhellt!

“Well, sir, there’s been rising trouble there with the Defias. Apparently they have overrun Westfall, but by disrupting the farmers, they have also disrupted food production and now they are starting to go hungry. Westbrook Garrison is all that’s keeping the Defias in Westfall and also the darkness in Duskwood from creeping over the border. This Lady Prestor is not doing anything to help the needy areas of Stormwind, so the mages, in secret, have decided to at least make sure that Elwynn Forest remains protected. They have many important projects here and the Servants ofAzora in particular see the people of the forest as their charges. The mages have agreed that Westbrook Garrison is critical to our defense right now–especially with the town of Westridge as a critical stopping point for travelers and refugees–and are deploying some people there”

Master Wefhellt sighed. “I have to admit it makes sense, and you will get a better education in soldiering there than you are here. And since there are Stormwind mages going, you will get good training as well. I really can’t see any reason to say no, except that I’ve become a bit fond of you. You’re the first true apprentice I have and I feel a bit like a father, if I may say so. Please say you will keep me updated, or even come back to see an old fool mage from time to time.”

At the word “father,” Laila felt herself tearing up. For someone whose father had been lost so long ago, she had had been blessed with an abundance of father figures of the best sort. She couldn’t help herself and she just gave the old man a big hug. He stiffened in surprise, but then chuckled and hugged her back.

“Okay, okay, that’s as good an answer as I’m like to get. Now what about this boy of yours?”

Laila blushed and grimaced at the same time. “I am going to have to write him a letter. I just can’t … we had a kind of a fight … or, well .. it was mostly on my end, but still … I simply can’t face him right now. Not like this, under these circumstances.”

Master Wefhellt looked troubled. “It sounds to me like exactly the time you should face it, but it’s your life, you decide how best to handle it.”

Giving Master Wefhellt one last squeeze of the hand, Laila went to her room and packed up the rest of her meager belongings. She left a note of thanks and farewell to Keryn, and a rather longer letter to Edmond, explaining that he was still her best friend, but that she needed to sort some things out on her own, and make her way on her own for a while, but she would be back before long to have a long talk with him, when she was ready.

When she was finished, she went downstairs and found the pack of mages already waiting outside in the square for her, conjuring food and drink for the journey and lighting torches. She conjured up some bread and fresh water for herself and then, having no horse of her own, hopped up behind her newly designated mentor, a high elf named Elsharin. Laila was a bit in awe of her. She looked like an angel of the light, not a real person. She was tall and slender, with bright, silky golden hair and brilliant blue eyes. She wore fine violet silks, which made Laila’s homespun linen seem even rougher and coarser, and she smelled of peaches and peacebloom. Laila felt sloppy and childish next to her, with her hair pulled back in a nasty knot and Private’s uniform. But she was hopeful, that someone like this could teach her not just about the arcane arts, but also about how to become a woman and a warrior. Sparing one last glance at the little village of Goldshire, Laila wished to herself that when she came back, she would be altogether unrecognizable.

Earning Rank

As Laila prepared herself for her day one dim dawn, the golden light signaling the end of summer, she felt a tap on her shoulder. She nearly leapt out of her skin. She had heard and seen nothing. But it was no ghost, just her roommate, Keryn, who was artfully pretending not to have noticed a thing.

“Master Wefhellt has requested to see you when you are ready. You are remanded to his service by Marshall Dughan for the next few days. If I were you, I would report to him quickly. This seems important and you wouldn’t want him to think you a lollygagger.”

After she spoke, she just kind of … melted away. Laila shuddered. She was used to it, but it still unnerved her. Nevermind the fact that she could launch fireballs from her fingertips. She simply didn’t understand the sneaky kind of magic Keryn was cloaked in at all times.

Performing her final ablutions, Laila made sure she looked neat and tidy and then hurried over to Master Wefhellt’s chamber. She performed a deep bow and a salute. “You called for me, sir?”

“Ah yes, Laila. I have a special task for you, and if you perform it well you will be rewarded. You have excelled in your training, and I think it’s time you were introduced to the mages of Stormwind. It is good timing now, because there is a task that must needs be done and they have requested one of my people, since it needs doing here. You will need to travel to Stormwind in the mage’s quarter and located Jennea Cannon. You are likely to find her within the Wizard’s Sanctum. No doubt you will have to ask someone where to find it, and her.”

Laila beamed and saluted once more. A trip to the city, and an introduction to the mages of Stormwind and a reward! She suddenly felt very important and struggled to dampen the feeling. She was still little more than a child, whatever she felt, and the Stormwind mages were immensely powerful.

“Ah, so you are willing?”

“Yes, sir!”

“Good. If I have a good report back from Jennea, I am authorized to promote you to Specialist. Once that happens, you will be able to dedicate more time to mage training and less to patrolling.”

Laila nodded, and tried to contain her excitement, although she felt that it must be leaking out everywhere. “Yes, sir!”

She packed lightly. Stormwind was only a day’s travel, and her task was to bring her back here, so she imagined she would not stay in Stormwind for long. She hoisted her pack and stepped lightly down the inn stairs to the common room. To her surprise, Edmond was waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs, a pack on his own back and a small basket in hand.

“Leaving without saying goodbye, Lai?”

She blushed from head to toe. She had been so thrilled about the trip and the future possibilities she had not even thought about Edmond. “Ed, I-”

“It’s okay, Lai, you don’t have to! I’m coming with you!”

“You’re what!?” She was thrilled and also a bit disappointed. She had been excited about embarking on this adventure on her own. Ed and she did almost everything together and she had to admit a part of her had been a little happy about doing something on her own.

“Yeah, I have to go to the Cathedral to do my duty there. I was told you were being sent off to Stormwind too, so I put together a lunch for us while you were packing.”

She grinned, any regrets she had fading. Edmond was her best friend, and it would have been lonely without him. The two of them set off down the road, happy and confident. There were certainly bandits along this road, but both of them had enough training that the uniforms would be enough to keep the scruffy brigands that hung near the city away.

They arrived at the city near evening and since there was no time left to do anything that day, secured lodging. The inn in Stormwind was a very different place than that in Goldshire. It was much larger, for one thing. And populated mostly by tourists rather than townsfolk. The room was full of all types–merchants, a noble or two, and laborers as well, and farmers come into town for market. There was a fiddler in the corner, a jolly old barman behind the counter, and an impertinent looking barmaid making her way around the common room.

Laila and Edmond grabbed a seat in the corner and the merry barmaid brought them over a few flagons of mead and plates full of sweet potato bread, fresh berries, and mugs of goat’s milk as well. The two of them ate and got to know their tablemates. Edmond even got up and danced a jig with the laughing barmaid. As the hour grew late, Laila began to stifle yawns. She tugged on Edmond’s sleeve and let him know she was going up to her room.

“All right, Lai, good luck tomorrow! I’ll meet you back here when we’re both finished and we can go back together. He squeezed her hand as she took her leave, and Laila had to admit she was happy they had come together.

The next morning, Laila got up with the sun. She put on her white private’s robes, combed through her hair until it shone, and washed her face. She pulled her cloak across her shoulders, picked up her carrying pouch and her staff and quietly lef the room so as not to disturb the other patrons. She was just at the top of the stairs when a doorway down the hall opened. The barmaid from the night before slipped out, giggling softly. Edmond’s head poked out softly and he gave her a peck on the cheek and a pat on the rear, at which she squealed a bit.

Laila froze. She felt waves of heat and cold pass over her. Edmond was not her lover, but she had thought that maybe there was something between them. She knew this was what men did, but even so, she had not realized how much it would hurt her to see something like this. Blushing, the barmaid brushed past her, running down the stairs. In a daze, Laila followed. She stopped to speak with the innkeep, leaving a brief, brusque note for Edmond, informing him not to wait for her.

And then, she made her way to mage’s quarter, determined to impress them so much that she could move up the ranks quickly and get far away from Goldshire and far away from Edmond. Some paladin!

Earning Your Keep

The rest of the midsummer festival passed in a blur of celebration and patrols such that after a while, Laila felt almost disembodied, as if she was floating off to the side watching herself train, patrol, and then dance the night away and then drop dead asleep and start it all over again.

When it came to an end, she was completely drained. Unfortunately, it was now time for real work to begin. On the first day after the festival, she dragged herself down to the common room. She felt as though she had cobwebs in her eyes and clouds in her brain. Strange parts of her ached and creaked.

Suddenly, Edmond popped up in front of her, as chipper as a little squirrel. How could he do it? His energy seemed boundless. He gallantly led her to a chair and plopped a mug of hot coffee in front of her, and a bowl of thick hot cereal. “Oh, you’re my hero,” she said groggily, starting in on the breakfast.

“That’s the idea!” he said. “Get that down and wake up a bit, and then we’re to go back to the Greenbough farm and make sure they made it back safe and inquire if they need anything. Marshall Dughan was mighty thankful for them boots.”

Once she had some hot coffee and cereal in her, she woke up a little and perked up. “I’ll just be one minute,” she said to Edmond, rushing back to her room to smooth her hair and straighten her clothing. His comments about the boots had also reminded her that she had some brand new–well, new to her, anyway–boots and she dragged those out from her chest and laced them on tightly, then marched down the stairs properly, as a member of the Stormwind Army.

She and Edmond then set out on their walk over to the farm, which just as before was peaceful with no danger in sight. When they arrived, however, the peace was shattered. The place was in an uproar with some arguing, some crying, and some just looking grim. Peering through the chaos, Laila located Mother Greenbough and made her way directly to the woman, who was in tears.

“Laila, oh thank goodness you are here,” she said frantically. “We are not sure what to do. Yesterday, Benjy and his friend Willem from down the way went off fishing and they’ve never come back. We thought maybe they’d stopped off for the last night of the festival, but his brothers say he never did! Please, please can you help us find him?”

“We will do our best, Mother Greenbough,” Laila replied, trying to calm the woman. “This is what we are here for. Now, can you tell me where he was going?”

Mother Greenbough gulped for breath, and Laila patted her on the back, waiting patiently until she settled down. “Yes, they were going up the river to Stonecairn Lake. I know there are soldiers stationed there, so I thought it would be safe.”

“Well, that’s a good start. We’ll go check with the soldiers first and see if they saw them. We won’t rest until we have some news to tell you.”

Edmond looked pained as they left the farm. “Laila-”

“I know, Edmond, this will probably not end well. Let’s not talk about it, let’s just find out what we can.”

They made their way to the bridge at the river, where they found a Guard Thomas and his men watching the crossing. Laila inquired about the two boys.

“Yes, ma’am, we saw them,” said the guard. “I warned them to stay near the bridge. There’s been murloc sightings up closer to the lake.”

“Murlocs?” Laila asked.

“Aye, murlocs. They’re like a fish and a man combined, with big fangs to boot. They’re not too smart, but they multiply like rabbits and if you’re fighting one you can be sure you’ll soon be fighting three or four at least. If those boys wandered near one of their villages, well, I hate to say it, but we may not see them again.”

“Well, we promised their mother we’d find something out,” said Edmond. “Can you tell us what they were wearing?”

The guard looked skeptical. “If you insist on going after ‘em, at least try to stay in cover. If you see any of them murlocs get out of the way. Once they spot you, they’ll be all over you. They dislike fire, so fight em with that if you have to. If you must, run inland from them. They dislike being too far from water. The boys – one was wearing blue overalls and a white shirt with a brown linen hat, and t’other was wearing all brown from head to toe. One a blond and one dark, and they had their fishing things.”

“Thank you,” said Edmond, “And thank you for the advice. We will heed it to the letter.”

At that, the two saluted, and the guard saluted back, and Laila and Edmond began to make their way up the river. At first they saw nothing but wolves and bears. No sign of any murlocs or boys. Both Laila and Edmond carried torches, but hopefully would be proof against the murlocs. As they drew near to the lake, Edmond suddenly stopped.

“Here’s the remains of a fire. Laila, stay back and be ready. I see some things here. Hold-agh. No don’t come-”

At the guttural whimper of Edmond’s Laila had come running forward, only to see what had disturbed him so. It was a mangled body, barely recognizable except the tattered brown linen and the wisps of dark brown hair strewn across the bloodied and bruised head. The body itself was mangled beyond recognition, looking half-eaten, bones sticking out from battered flesh, entrails removed.

Laila ran to the nearest bush and retched. She soon felt Edmond at her back and looked up at him tearfully when she was done. “I’m sorry …” she said, “I’m so sorry, I should be stronger than this. Please don’t tell anyone.” Edmond was pale, with tear tracks of his own streaking through his dirtied cheeks. His breathing was shallow. “Laila,” he whispered. “There is no shame in this. This kind of thing should never be easy to bear. We do not need the strength to treat it casually, we need to the strength to continue on. That must be Willem, but we still need to find Rolf. We owe it to his mother.”

“You’re right,” Laila sobbed. “I can do it. I have to do it, this is what I do now.” Slowly she got to her feet. Breathing steadily to calm herself. She splashed some ice cold river water on her face and washed out her mouth and something about it strengthened her. “Okay, let’s go, soldier,” she said to Edmond, who smiled a wan smiled but saluted and took the lead again.

As they neared the lake, they slowed and kept to the treeline. In the dim twilight, they soon made out crude huts clustered near the lake. Hunched figures shuffled from hut to hut and around the perimeter in a patrol. Suddenly, there was a commotion in one area. A group of the pallid creatures that must be murlocs stepped to the shore of the lake and in their midst they held a human form. It was Benjy. He was beaten and bruised but still alive although barely conscious. The murlocs began gibbering in some incomprehensible language and one stepped up that was slightly larger than the rest, with a rope belt that had strange and unidentifiable objects dangling from it. From a sheath on the belt, he pulled out a long and wicked looking knife. He turned to the lake and let out a long string of gurbling that seemed a chant or invocation to Laila’s mage-trained ears. Then he lifted the knife over Benjy’s chest.

“No!” Laila shouted, stepping out of the trees and waving her torch, she lifted her other hand and hurled a large ball of flame at the knotted murlocs. “Laila, what-damn!” Edmond stepped out beside her, shielding her as the murlocs turned as one and began to limp-hop towards them. Laila continued to summon fire while Edmond stayed out in front protecting her. Murlocs surged over him, but fell back one by one as the fire took them.

Crying in frustration as she worked, Laila kept her eye on the murloc priest who, undeterred, gave one last mangled cry and then plunged the knife into Benjy’s heart, and as he bled to death, prepared to cut it clear out of his body. “Noooooooo!” she yelled, “You can’t have him for your dirty rituals! He’s going back to his family!” And suddenly, everything around her changed. It felt as if the world disappeared. It was just she and her quarry and she retreated to a deep, cold place in her heart. Acting meticulously as a medic, she first froze the murloc priest in place and then began to bombard him with bolts of frost and fire, burning him down. It didn’t take long. He was a priest, not a warrior.

When it was done, Laila knelt by Benjy’s body and suddenly realized how exhausted she was. She had no strength left and she was in the middle of murlocs with a body to carry back to his family. Suddenly he heard a ruckus behind her and as she turned, ready to meet her death, she saw Edmond and behind him torches, which lit the faces of the carriers, who she soon recognized at the guards from the bridge. They helped dispatch the murlocs that continued to fight and then took up the body between them, to carry back to Goldshire.

Edmond himself picked up Laila and carried her back in his arms. She protested, of course, but he refused to listen. “You’ve been a hero today, woman. No one will think any less of you for being carried if you expended your strength ridding the lake of a menace that murdered at least two local boys, and I’m guessing more. And don’t worry, I’ll put you down before we go into town.”

As for the rest, it got worse before it got better. They had the sad task of informing Mother Greenbough of the loss of her son. She was devastated, but still grateful. She asked for the two of them to come back and visit from time to time, and they assured her that they would.

Laila and Edmond were given three days leave to recover, and both were presented with armor markers from the Stormwind Army supplier. This was a great honor, as supplies were very short these days, and most lower-ranked soldiers must make do for themselves. They had earned a privilege generally saved for the officers – the right to an official piece armor. In addition they were both promoted to private first-class. This came with no extra privileges or duties, but it meant they were no longer the low man on the totem pole. They were recognized as experienced soldiers.

Midsummer Festivities

Laila tried hard to walk calmly down the worn wooden steps to the inn common room, instead of rushing down like a child at Winter’s Veil. It was so difficult for her not to betray her excitement. Today was the day that she and Edmond were to report to Marshall Dughan for their first official duty on patrol.

This morning the common room was decorated with garlands and bouquets of bright red, orange, and yellow flowers. Bright, yet well worn banners in the shape of flames hung from each threshhold. The room was full to bursting with local merchants who were taking the day off for the start of the midsummer holiday.

No sooner had she set foot on the ground when she was grabbed, lifted in the air and spun around. “Happy midsummer, Laila!” Edmond burst out excitedly, setting her back down none too gently. “Are you ready to go see Marshall Dughan?” Laila stumbled and then caught her balance.

“Soon!” she said, a little queasily. “Please don’t do that so early in the morning. I need some hot tea before going anywhere, and preferably would have had it before spinning.”

Edmond just laughed and led her to an open spot at a bench that was large enough for the two of them, then pushed his way through the crowd. He returned with two plates piled with buns and sausages and a two mugs of something sloshy. Laila narrowed her eyes. “That doesn’t look like tea.”

Edmond sighed. “It’s Midsummer, Laila. You can leave your tea for today, this is Midsummer Brew and you have to drink it! It’s part of the celebration.”

Laila smiled and took the mug cheerfully. The drink was spicy and strong, and she had to admit it woke her up just as well as tea would have–perhaps even better. After breakfast, Edmond wanted to go look at the fire, but Laila thought they had better hurry to see the Marshall. “We have weeks to see the fire, Ed, and I’m sure we can honor it tonight. But I don’t want to dally today.”

However, when they found the Marshall, he looked as if he had forgotten all about them. “Oh yes, you two, just the thing!” he exclaimed. “You are lucky that your first day of duty falls on the beginning of a holiday. Your first days of duty will be light, and today in particular. All I’m asking each patroller to do is to go to a local farmstead and escort the folk there to town for the festivities if they wish to come. Not only will the bandits in these parts be looking for folks off their guard and celebrating, but allies of the Horde may be in the area.”

“The Horde … you mean, like … orcs?” Laila asked in awe.

“Orcs, undead, tauren, blood elves, trolls …” the Marshall trailed off. “Normally they don’t come here this close to the heart of the kingdom, but this is Midsummer and it’s to be expected. Many adventurers show their prowess by extinguishing the flames of their enemies. Now mind what I say to you, you are not to engage any of them if you see them, not unless you must and only as necessary to get your escort safely to town. Your main goal should be to get your charges to town safely and quickly, avoiding any trouble.”

“Yes sir,” both Edmond and Laila saluted.

“Very good,” said the Marshall. “You two may take the Greenbough farm to the southwest. It is the one with green fencing around and large orchards.”

“Yes sir!” They saluted again.

“All right, all right, off with ye!”

The soft springtime florals of the woods had given way to the overwhelming verdant green of summer. The air was pleasantly warm, not too hot yet with a soft, balmy breeze. The way to the farm seemed clear. No beasts but the wild pigs and small forest critters that were no danger, and no bandits in sight.

As they walked, Laila and Edmond fell into a casual, strolling mood, lulled by the pleasant day and the holiday atmosphere. Edmond reached over and casually took Laila’s hand as they walked. She felt a mild shock as he did so. Did it … mean something? Milly Osworth had told her that women often did this, worred and fretted over the meaning of every little word or gesture. Laila had scoffed at that, then, but here she was. She decided to push it aside and just enjoy the day, and the comfortable feeling of walking hand in hand with a friend on lovely summer morning.

Soon enough they got to the farm and they both quickly separated and tried to look very official and businesslike. Mistress Greenbough greeted them at the farmhouse door and sent a little girl scampering to gather the other folks. She also brought out a burlap sack, which she handed to Edmond.

“What’s this?” he asked.

“It’s boots,” the farmwife replied. “Resources are thin these days, what with Stormwind keeping itself close and not letting out support to its subjects. Marshall Dughan does a good job of disguising that fact around here with careful planning and I guess a lot out of his own pocket, but he gets nothing from that boy king and his dark lady in the capital there.

Many of the patrollers have worn out their boots tromping the forest. They’ve kept my farm safe ever since those bandits started hiding out in the woods here. I figure the least I can do is supply them with some of our old boots. They’re not as nice as they deserve, but they’re not worn to pieces either.”

Edmond and Laila looked at each other. They had had no idea it was that bad. “Thank you kindly, mistress,” Laila said, dipping a curtsy to her. I am sure everyone will be grateful for your contribution. If we all work together, we will continue to thrive.”

“Indeed, lass, that’s my words too, although I’d use smaller ones, and less of them.”

Laila grinned. By that time, the household was all ready to go and they began their journey to town. There were no troubles on the journey with such a large group, two of them clearly armed, and by the time they got to town, they were all in a festive mood.

One of the older farmboys requested a dance with Laila and Edmond butted in. “She promised me the first dance, but you can go after.” Laila stared at him for a moment, but then nodded her assent. “Very well then, first dance to Edmond, second dance to … “

“Benjamen. Benjy for short.”

“Second dance to Benjy. But first we must honor the flame.”

Laila approached the towering bonfire and knelt before it respectfully, feeling its heat on her brow. Once she had properly honored Goldshire’s fire and saluted the Flamekeeper who steadfastly guarded it, she finally relaxed and made merry. She danced her dance with Edmond and then her dance with Benjy, and then more dances. Whirling around in the warm night air, lit by the flickering flames, she felt less like an ordinary girl and more like some exotic creature.

It was one of the most magical nights of her life. Even the people she had gotten to know in her first days of the village seemed like mysterious strangers in this light. The revelry was electric and contagious and she couldn’t help but give into it. And well … the Midsummer Brew was potent. A some point she noticed couples stealing off into the darkness and she blushed. This kind of thing never happened at the abbey, which had much more sedate celebrations.

Suddenly she felt a presence behind her. She whirled only to find Edmond looking down at her. Her breath caught. Might he ask her … to go in the woods with him? For a second she thought she might almost dare.

“Remember Laila, we have to return to duty again tomorrow, and despite the fact that it is a light duty, we should still get some sleep. Come, let me escort you to your rooms.”

Laila smiled sheepishly. How could she have thought …? Once again she was an ordinary girl, and the exotic creature had vanished and with it her forward thoughts. “Thank you, Edmond. I suppose it must be very late, I lost track of time.”

She took his arm and allowed him to lead her to her rooms, just as a gentleman should. No funny business at all, just a tug of his forelock, and a little bow and a “Goodnight!” and he as gone.

Sighing, Laila retired to her bed, brimming with memories of the feeling of the day.

OOC: Being Out of Sync

I am in sort of an unusual situation. I don’t know anyone in real life who plays WoW. I don’t have any friends that play the game with me. My very first play was sparked by some casual acquaintances, but it was just doing a trial period together for free. I am the only one that still plays.

Because of this, I have no support system in the game, and no one that has taught me how things work. I am still learning tricks and tips after a year of playing that I didn’t even know existed. In order to get that same community and to figure out how the game worked and how to get better at it, I started reading blogs. I now read a bunch of WoW blogs, and it’s interesting to see the zeitgeist there.

Lately, I’ve been noticing a lot of posts about enthusiasm and whether people still have enthusiasm and it really hits me how out of sync I am with the population that’s been playing for years. I’ve only been playing for a year, and I’ve been taking it slow because I like to try different things and play different characters and explore all that there is to see. I have no characters at level cap, but multiple alts at varying levels, with my highest being 60, and most being in their 20s, and little Laila here the lowest, having not yet reached 10.

I still have as much enthusiasm for the game as any player that first made their way through the levels had in their first year or two of playing. There is still tons of stuff I haven’t gotten to do yet and tons of options for all of my alts to try. It makes me sad sometimes to read these posts from longtime players because it makes me feel like I caught on too late. Like my feelings will never match up with the feelings of the majority of people playing, nor my experiences.

I won’t ever have that experience that earlier adopters had of discovering everything together with other people, or of having the chance to be the first to do something in the game. Everything I ever do, someone else will have been there, done that.

How much does that bother me? Well, not much. As I said, I don’t often play with other people, although I enjoy the social aspects of the game. I’m happy to explore it all on my own and have the sense of discovery for myself, even if it’s old hat to someone else. So I’ll probably be oohing and aahing over Northrend when everyone else is raiding through whatever the next expansion is. Oh well, in a lot of ways I can consider myself lucky because I still have a long way to go before I lose that enthusiasm.

OOC: How old are your characters?

On one of their recent breakfast topics, WoW.com asks “how old are your characters?” The question of how old a non-human character is in this setting is actually a little bit tricky. It’s very hard to find specific information on the timeline of certain events, with a lot of the major lore events in Azeroth being confined to certain years that happened in the very recent past and a lot of the exact timing of events, especially relative to each other, difficult to work out.

Add onto that a fuzziness about exact lifespans of different races and it gets difficult to quantify. The best way to clarify is to just give an equivalent to human years and make sure that you say it’s an equivalent so that you don’t get griefed by someone saying “that’s just a baby!”

Also, don’t feel that every elf has to be hundreds of years old. People will grief someone who says their elf is only 16 or 20, or whatnot. But the starting areas are relatively safe and sheltered. It’s conceivable that a very young elf would be in the starting area just beginning his or her training. It could be an interesting character/story idea to start a very young elf and imagine that, for example, ten years go by with each level. Of course that is hard to reconcile with the timing of the WoW story, so one would have to be very creative to do it convincingly.

Generally, when trying to work out the ages of my characters, I use the various timelines collected by WoWWiki to determine the age of my characters based on their relation to certain events in history. Likewise, a chart with the lifespans of different races can be found HERE. Already I can see a problem with Laila’s age. I didn’t consult with any source before starting her, since … well, she’s human. But the story begins with her reaching adulthood at 18, when the chart indicates adulthood is reached at 15 in human society. An easy fix, I think.

Not all of my characters have set ages, but for the ones that I have thought about their stories, they are as follows:

- Laila: Eighteen, as stated, although now I am considering revising down to 16.

- Seswatha: My dwarf paladin is an old soldier, around 175 years old. In my head, he started out life as a plain ol’ warrior and only recently became a paladin in his twilight years when he experienced an awakening of faith and dedicated himself to the light as a grizzled old veteran.

- Cecilie: My human warlock is probably at this point around 28 years old. She is no longer young, but she has not yet reached middle age. At one time she was using fel energies to enhance her appearance and make herself look younger, but she has given that up and now appears as her true age, although she still enhances her appearance, as her true coloring is mousy and dull, and she maintains jet black hair to make herself appear more striking.

- Istriya: My undead warrior I imagine to have been in her late 40s when she died. She was in life a country gentlewoman who has a wife, mother, and estate manager. She awoke to undeath with only a vague and fuzzy memory of who she used to be and a newfound strength and fury, leading her to reinvent herself as a fearsome warrior, barely recognizable as the lady she used to be.

- Amoris: My night elf hunter is about 300 years old, or just on the cusp of adulthood for a night elf. Her family has lived in Ashenvale for thousands of years. Her parents died at the hands of Grom Hellscream and his orcs and she was sent away at that time to complete her training elsewhere. She is only now returning to take her mothers place with the Sentinels there.

- Istayla: Given the immortality of Draenei, I cannot say how old Istayla is. She was born on Draenor so she is probably less than 20,000 years old. She had not yet begun training of any kind when she fled Draenor so she is probably even much younger than that, but I can’t find enough information to determine how old she might be.

-Lileda and Eleda: These are a pair of twins, one a blood elf hunter, the other a blood elf death knight. They are about 75 years old, although Eleda is now dead and will not truly age beyond this, except chronologically. Lileda was a solitary hunter by profession, living in the woods, helping to keep the animal population in check and Eleda one of the Farstriders who fell defending Quel’Thalas from the Scourge. Unbeknownst to her family, she was raised as a death knight. Lileda joined the Farstriders after her sister’s death and continues her legacy.

OOC: Belated (or Early) Friday Five – Time is on Our Side

Last Friday, Too Many Annas posted her Friday Five, with some prompts for people to answer about their characters. Since this blogging exercise is all about exploring my character from start until the bitter end, whenever that may be, these separate exercises exploring my character are not only valuable, but fun as well. So I am going to attempt to answer these prompts from my character’s perspective, albeit a little bit late.

• Is your character usually early, on time, or late?  What does he or she expect from other people with regards to time?

I would say that Laila really isn’t a stickler for time. She’s not habitually late, but doesn’t pay attention enough to always arrive early. I would say she’s generally on time, with the possibility to be a few minutes late or early, as she doesn’t particularly try for punctuality.

She also has no expectations from others with regard to time, except that you not stand her up or keep her waiting for an amount of time that becomes rude. She probably won’t even notice if someone is five or ten minutes late, but if you keep her sitting around for 30 minutes or more, except some stormclouds when you finally do show up.

• Is your character a morning sparrow or a night owl?  Is this their nature, or have they trained themselves to it?

Laila is neither a morning person or a nocturnal person, although by training she has become accustomed to waking up early and going to bed early. She grew up in an abbey, so she had to keep the schedule of inhabitants. Left to her own devices, she would probably wake up naturally around 8:30 or 9:00 and stay up a little past the normal bedtime. Perhaps around 11:00 or midnight.

• Does your character carry a time-keeping device? (watch, pocket watch, chronometer, gnomish buzzbox with digital clock peripheral)

No, she’s never heard of any such thing and would be astounded if she were to see one. But she’s not overly concerned with time, so she probably would get really excited about it, ask a lot of questions, and then quickly lose interest.

• How does your character deal with the Bronze Dragonflight – does he or she take them seriously?  take the Caverns of Time seriously?

She has not yet encountered the Bronze Dragonflight, and there’s no telling how she will react if she ever does. If she were to stumble upon it today, she would probably be willing to listen, and once shown the past, she would probably take it seriously.

• What does your character eat for breakfast on a “normal morning”? (whenever that “morning” happens to take place)

Something light. At the moment she is living in an inn and her keep is being paid by the Stormwind Army, so she eats whatever breakfast that entitles her to. I imagine bread, cheese, and some kind of meat most days.