Vanguard: Story of the Month: The Journey's End & New Beginnings

The Journey's End & New Beginnings, by a WarCry Fan

*Note: Names have been altered to protect the identity of the author, due to the beta NDA.

Sitting with his gun across his knees, as the cold steel of its barrel stole the warmth from his legs, the solitary hunter watched the sunrise. He knew during the first couple of hours after the sun had risen the chill would feel it's strongest, as if the cruel winter refused to surrender its nocturnal hold on the coming day. Without event, however, the nightly shadows were chased away by the sun as it ascended slowly above the horizon.

Despite the unspoiled promise of the dawn, the lingering smell of death and decay permeated deep into the northern part of the Eastern Kingdoms. The winter's breath blew fiercely across the Plaguelands, but could not remove the taint and stain which remained as a sign of the dark times.

" Well, ole boy. We be headin' back to Ironforge today," he said turning toward the black-saddled ram that was grazing on the nearby vegetation. "Them full packs yer carryin' have more than enough mineral and ore to keep us busy fer a spell." He grinned slightly, knowing the labor-spent mining would bring much needed joy when he created new trinkets and gadgets upon his return.

Hannar's gray-streaked hair blew wildly out of his faded green cloak, as another gust of icy wind raced past. Warming his hands underneath his braided beard, he looked down at his Dragonstalker's Armor, sadly noticing once again, it was losing its luster and in need of repairs. Eventually, his thoughts drew towards the mysterious package he had found on the beach outside Southshore several days earlier. It was a small tattered bundle wrapped in an oiled-soaked canvas, bearing a strange foreign-waxed seal. Inside were several pink vials, most of which had been broken or damaged. Only two of the small vials managed to survive their long trek unscathed. Included with the vials had been a water-stained letter ran with ink, but still legible. Reaching into his tunic, he retrieved the vellum and began to read.

"" Aduro,

I hope this letter finds you well, my friend.

It has been long since our last visit, but understandable under the circumstances. Time doesn't stand still for a Monk, when there are responsibilities and work to be done. I bear important news; the Dwarven engineers from the Widows Veil Mountains have arrived with the reinforcements from Thestra. It looks like things are going to pick up as you predicted. Included with this letter, are several major healing potions. It is the best we can do to support your fellow healer's efforts. I am always reminded; Telon is truly a land of Heroes.

Sincerely,

Latro ""

Hannar let out his breath, as he carefully tucked the folded letter back away into its hiding place.

" What are ya thinkin' ole man?" he grumbled, "I know we are not gettin' soft, but do our bones have the strength fer such an adventure?" Whispering audibly, he continued, "We be content here, but its been many o' year since we seen other Kinfolk "

Indeed it seemed a lifetime, since he last seen the Dwarves of Midgard. It was a long time ago, during the War of the Realms, but he could still remember the battles over the remains of Arthur's Kingdom. Hannar would never forget the day he left his home, following his excited comrades through the portal to Azeroth for promises of new treasure and adventure.
After seeing many riches gained and lost, those same friends slowly left one by one for other fortune, as they were swept away in the currents of Life.

With his mind still lingering on fond times from a remote past, movement from below drew his thoughts to the current moment. He watched cautiously as a raiding party rode into the lower valley. Peering through an ornate spyglass, he took a quick count and could see they were close to forty strong. Most of the force was made up of Undead, Trolls, and Orcs, led by a pair of Taurens. Judging by their war banners and matching tabards, he knew this was an organized Horde Clan that needed to be left alone. One mistake and an unfortunate traveler could discover first hand the hordes skill in delivering a lingering agonizing death. Many times they would continue to taunt and mutilate a victim's corpse long after the kill.

Standing slowly, Hannar grabbed the reins of his ram and prepared to move back up into the rock formation. The battle-ready beast having already caught the scent of the approaching danger lowered its weighty head and stomped defiantly into the ground. Turning toward his master, Brudro let out a spirited snort.

" Hush! Don't ye be reckless, I fancy a good ruckus the same as ye, but ye best be rememberin' that me brain be bigger than yers. So take me advice and git movin." He found a crevice to hide the ram as he finished reprimanding his mount. "We got no chance to beat 'em and they'd be on us before we could reach the valley floor."

From his hiding place, Hannar watched the band of Horde move through the lowland. They had several scouts riding their flanks, but having such large numbers made them careless and overconfident with their duties. They were moving at a good clip and just as it seemed the danger was passing, one of them swerved and rode over to the base of his perch.

The troll dismounted and sniffed the air around her until her head turned toward the dwarf's direction. Leaving her swift orange raptor unfettered, she started scaling the side of the rocky cliff. Midway up, she paused briefly to examine a patch of stunted growth that was rooted in the cracked stone face. With a filthy hand she foraged a small cluster of gromsblood that she quickly stuffed into a ragged makeshift pouch. The shaman finished her climb up onto the very ledge where moments earlier her natural adversary had sat watching the valley.

The dwarven hunter watched the enemy come steadily closer. He knew he was mere seconds away from being discovered and there would be an epic fight for his existence. Even if he managed to dispatch his foe quickly, the entire horde company would swarm at the sound of his first gunshot. As the troll turned to view her surroundings, he slowly raised his rifle and took careful aim at his target. With his finger on the trigger and the gun still zeroed in on her back, Hannar hesitated when the creature knelt down. He watched guardedly as she spent several minutes rummaging uninterrupted in the grass collecting plaquebloom from the sandy soil. Moments later, with her herb pouch full, she started her descent back down. Letting out a sigh of relief, Hannar lowered his rifle as he watched the savage return to her mount and hurry off after her clansmen.

The disgruntled ram lowered its ears and turned its head away from its rider, refusing to make eye contact with him as it was led back onto the landing.

"Brudro, There be no shame avoidin' what ye can't win. That be a poorly chosen battle," he added, patting his ram's neck. "So don't ye be frettin' when we know ye be ferocious."

As Hannar tightened the saddle straps and checked over the supply packs, he noticed the ram was looking at him. Grabbing a hold of one of its massive horns, he gave it a good-natured tug. "Aye, that's the spirit. Ironforge be a long way, we plenty o' time to find us a proper fight." Climbing onto Brudro's back, the dwarf urged his ram toward the next ridgeline, where they would be able to follow a game trail to the valley below.

After riding west for a better part of the morning, Hannar reached the Thondroril River, a natural boundary that divided the Eastern and Western Plaguelands. Turning before reaching an ancient stone bridge, he followed the rivers edge south to where its foul current fell into the dark waters of Darrowmere Lake.

Looking out onto the lake below, the hunter's eyes were drawn to the towering island that rose from its rancid depths. He could see the decaying remains of an immense archaic stone fortress starring back at him from its dark windows and hollowed arches. He knew the haunted island of Caer Darrow was the vile place that once housed the cursed Academy of Necromancy known as Scholomance.

With the feeling of being watched, the dwarf cautiously followed the lake around to its southern shore where the Hinterland Mountains pressed up against the Plaguelands. It wasn't until he was well up into the heights of the narrow pass that his uneasiness diminished. The sun was now low in the sky and he still had several hours to go before he would reach the safety of Wildhammer Keep at Aeries Peak.

"I reckon, we both be needin' a rest, " Hannar decided as he led Brudro up onto a rocky ledge where he could see the trail below. "We now be in Hinterland, " he cheerfully stated. "I be figurin', a few hours after sundown and we be spendin' the night with some Kin," he said looking forward to some hearty fellowship and a strong mug of beer.

There was a cold breeze rising from the green valley, yet between the warmth of his rock platform and the fresh air, he was feeling quite comfortable and relaxed. His mind kept turning to the dwarven engineers of Thestra, wondering what technology they possessed and the type of materials they used in the Widows Veil Mountains. As a master engineer himself, he could only wonder if there was an opportunity to learn some new schematics while sharing his own knowledge and experience. Where was this world of Telon located and what was it like? A land of heroes sounded appealing, yet was it worth the effort to search and find? Knowing, the package found its way here, surely there was a portal, but did it still exist? He pondered those questions as he enjoyed his break.

A short time later, as Hannar turned to look back up the pass, his heart rose up into his throat. There was a Warlock's felhunter hobbling toward the ridge directly above him. Only having a brief instant to react, he fluidly rolled to his knees and set up a freezing trap where he had been sitting. As he jumped to his feet, he glanced up just in time to see an orc leaping off of its terrifying Dreadsteed.

Smoke and flames billowed from the mouth of Hannar's dragon-breath hand cannon as the venomous bullet struck the warlock's leg. Despite his quick reflexes, the horde was able to land its first spell before he could fire his weapon again. The dwarf felt the dizzying sensation of his life's energy being drained away as a dark shadowy wall came crashing into him. As his eyesight returned and his mind cleared, he realized it wasn't the spell that had knocked him over but his fleeing ram as it bolted down the trail.

" Whoa... Where do ye think yer goin'?" he bellowed at the beast as he was left to fend for himself. "Aye, ye be ferocious indeed," he scoffed before looking around and whistling a high shrill-pitched call.

The hunter quickly fired a concussion blast at the orc, but was unable to follow up his attack because his target was no longer in his view. At that point, the tribesman's pet began its own onslaught and Hannar knowing he was at a serious disadvantage where he stood, had to figure a way to turn the situation to his favor. Instead of trying to wait for a clear shot at the warlock, he leaped over the edge and floated to the trail below using his parachute cloak. His goal was to draw them onto the lower landing to where he had previously laid his hidden device.

"Let's see which of you ugly varmints be showin' yer head first" he growled as he stepped off the path to bring one of them into the open.

His strategy worked, as the castor's pet was the first to move into gun range, but it somehow avoided his trap. The hunter took careful aim of the minion and blasted a crippling shot that staggered it back several feet. He followed up by launching a multi-shot that struck both his adversaries simultaneously. Without a brief moment to admire his handiwork, he was knocked to the ground by a solid hit to his left arm and became enveloped in instant agony. Liquid fire pulsed through his body as the spell peaked.

The Warlock, seeing its opponent battered, stepped toward the edge to finish him off. Without realizing its mistake, the orc triggered the hunter's earlier placed trap and became captured in a solid block of ice.

Before the felhunter could break its master free, Hannar ate a piece of whipper root to relieve his severe pain. His attempt to bind his torn left limb with a heavy mageweave bandage was unsuccessful because of the constant interrupting of the savage's pet. Knowing his wisest course of action would be to ignore the underling for the time being, he managed to place an arcane bomb in the middle of the trail.

"Dab nabbit, where ye be?" the disgruntled dwarf called out as the ice trap shattered ending the orc's imprisonment.

With a sudden shock of unnatural despair, the injured hunter began frantically searching for a hiding place as a dark shrouded death-spirit advanced toward him. The illusion created by this fear spell had given the warlock time to bandage and use a healthstone to restore its own strength. The caster raised its staff and began to chant again as a black vortex of mist wrapped slowly around its pale green arms. Crackling with an unholy force, the curse was released as an unbridled missile at the unsuspecting dwarf.

" Uden Bur... KeK! " the horde shouted using a profanity that required no translation from an experienced adventurer.

As Hannar regained his composure from the encounter with the counterfeit apparition, he felt something familiar brush past him moving in the direction of the warlock. All he could do, however, was watch as the conjured shadow bolt slammed into his chest. Dropping to his knees, he began to gasp for air as the spell's evil power began to take hold of him and siphon his energy.

Devising a new plan, the hunter carefully hiding his pain as he stood back up, defiantly placed his hands on his hips. Looking his foe square in the eye, he grinned as only a true Dwarf could. This action stopped his attacker in its tracks, and for a brief moment even the felhunter appeared puzzled.

"Don't need me engineering degree, to be knowin' the insult " Hannar replied calmly and smiled even wider after seeing the horde's reaction to his grin. " Yer mouth would be washin' out with soap, if me plan wasn't to kill ye" he sharply rebuked. "Now that be worth laughin' over." He slapped his hand across his knee and began laughing heartily at the orc's expense.

Watching his opponent become completely enraged from the tone of his voice, he calmly waited as his attacker rushed to prepare a new spell.

"Star! Ye tear em up good... girl!" Hannar shouted just as the fuming magic user started to release his assault.

One hundred and ninety pounds of angry Frostsaber appeared out of thin air in front of the warlock. With her green eyes showing a tint of red from a pure bestial wrath, the cat attacked the caster like a cyclone of white fur, fangs and claws while remaining completely immune to all its attacks. With the warlock's prepped spell now interrupted, Hannar, not missing his queue, carefully aimed his rifle at the maimed demon and delivered an explosive blow that ripped through its skull. He watched the caster's pet collapse to the ground where it began to twitch violently.

Hannar knew the villain's strategy would be to bring the fighting close together to render his gun useless and to summon another pet, perhaps one even greater than the felhunter. To prevent that from happening he would need to keep the orc distracted and at a ranged distance. His health was slowly draining away and it was critical for him not to waste time. Backing down the trail to get to his full shooting range, he continued the action with a rapid fire followed by another concussion blast from his rifle. With the warlock stunned, Hannar managed to use his first aid skill to bandage his open wounds and temporarily stem the flow of blood.

The battered creature understanding what it needed to do, sustained more injuries as it leaped down onto the trail to get away from the vicious cat. Casting another fear spell on the dwarf, the horde quickly drank a healing potion and continued down the pass with the enraged feline ripping at its heels. After running several strides, a huge explosion erupted under its feet as it discovered the nature of the bomb had temporarily silenced its spells.

"Uh oh! Did ye be forgettin' to watch yer step? " Hannar taunted as he managed to fire another decisively aimed strike. The narrow pass and constant hindrance of getting the wits frightened out of him made it harder to maintain his distance from the assailant. The last fear he encountered had every hair on his body standing on end and for a dwarf that can be almost as devastating as the spell itself.

After traveling a short distance down the mountain pass, the severely injured warlock finally caught up to the bleeding hunter in a spot where the trail switched back. Turning its fear spells onto the dwarf's companion, the warlock managed to stay out of melee by constantly jumping around and making sharp turns.

Hannar was feeling frustrated because he could not use his rifle at such a close range. Even with Star renewing her attacks as she shook off the orc's magic, he was running out of time and the slippery warlock was a master at staying just out of swords reach. Trying a new tactic, he grabbed a thorium grenade from his pocket and exploded it on the ground, briefly stunning the rascal. That was the break he needed as he ran back into the pass and onto a small rock. Standing on his pedestal he began firing a new round of missiles at the horde.

The caster prepared a new spell. With its staff held over its head, a somber mass of swirling black shadows formed around the warlock's feet slowly rotating up its body until it reached the end of the staff. The shadows began to resemble a rope with a long noose as it spun out from the end of the caster's crooked staff.

Hannar knowing the spell for its characteristic traits, watched as the death-coil formed. Reaching into his pouch at the last second, he held up a small shiny trinket he had been saving for a client. Because the item was crafted for someone else, it had never been tested. As the warlock released the spell, the ultra-flash shadow reflector repelled the dark energy and directed it back at the caster, knocking it off its feet.

"I be thinkin,' this one be a keeper," he exclaimed with wonder.

Recovering fast from the deflected death-coil, the horde ate a Night-dragons breath and used the last of its mana to conjure its final wave of life draining spells on the sick dwarf. Determined to kill the hunter quickly because of the frostsaber's relentless strive, the orc went into a blood fury and rushed into melee.

" Aye let us be done with it then, this sword be well named, that be me warnin' to ye." Hannar growled, seeing it has all come down to this one final moment, he drew his weapons and raced to meet his enemy face on.

Wielding his brutality blade in his right hand and his core hounds tooth in his injured off-hand, he attempted to block the villain's first attack with his dagger, as the staff came around to land a hard hit to his abdomen. Trying to shake it off, he weakly countered with a grazing strike to the back of the orc's leg, but failed miserably on his follow up as his dagger missed and was parried by the caster's staff. Circling around to keep his rival moving, the dwarf finally regained his footing.

The warlock performed a hard sweeping strike with its staff, but was slightly off balance as the dwarf jumped back and evaded, causing the savage to cleanly miss.

Seeing his opening, Hannar swung his brutality blade from across his body as his sword landed a massive strike that amputated the warlock's left arm and a good deal of the shoulder in a crippling blow. The warlock slowly fell to the ground, shuddering in pain before taking its last breath.

The hunter stood panting over the dead orc trying to catch his breath as his frostsaber padded quietly up to the corpse to give it a thorough sniffing. With the mutilated cadaver passing her final inspection, she took up a guarded position between the caster's body and her friend.

Feeling the warlock's poisonous magic still racking his system, the dwarf dropped to his hands and knees from a huge wave of nausea. With his energy now completely spent, he labored to get back onto his feet. Turning to look around at the carnage on the battlefield, he realized half the blood he saw spilled on the ground was his own. After vainly struggling to tend himself with a fresh bandage, he collapsed backwards and found himself sitting, his chin down and his elbows resting on his knees.

Even with his head spinning and his mind distracted by the pain of his body shutting down, he thought about the letter he had tucked away. He was surprised that such an odd notion would draw his attention at such a precarious moment. Reaching into his shirt pocket to make sure it was still there, his fingers touched the note and a pair of tear-shaped objects. Puzzled over as to what they were, he took one of them out for a brief examination. Upon seeing the item, he immediately recalled its purpose.

Carefully unstopping the small pink vial with a pair of shaky hands, Hannar drank down the healing potion, draining it completely. Within moments his mind began clearing and he felt his body waking up from a very deep slumber. He could feel the healing potion countering the warlock's magic as life returned to his limbs.

Looking around, he saw his battered cat vigilantly standing guard. Immediately forgetting about his own worries, he moved over to gently inspect her wounds. He found a deep gash along her right flank, which he immediately started to tend.

" Hold still Star. I be done with yer side, now let me finish checkin' the rest o' ye," he said soothingly as he found a fresh bruise on her front shoulder and several whiskers that were singed off the side of her face.

" Aye me poor lass, ye be gettin' many scars" Hannar said with watery eyes. "Don't ye worry, ye still be as pretty as the day I found ye." He never forgot the day he rescued her from a torturous pair of trolls up in Winterspring many years back. Doing all he could at the moment for Star, he decided it would be a good time to continue on.

"We best be movin' down to the valley," he suggested, as he glanced towards the warlock's body. "This be a bad place to be lingerin' and we be needin' to catch up with Brudro before nightfall."

They walked in silence for a while as Hannar collected his thoughts. He was thinking about what he wanted to do, but was afraid to speak aloud. Knowing that somehow saying the words would make things final, he remained silent a little longer. Eventually he turned to Star and spoke.

"Star, I be thinkin' hard on this," he said taking a deep breath. "I made up me mind to find those Kin of Widows Veil Mountains. I be certain if Latro's letter could be gettin' here, we could be goin' there," he related as he looked to see if he had her attention. "Someone here be knowin' about that package, we just be needin' to find that someone." He stopped walking to think about where to begin his search. "Star, ye with me on this?" he asked as the great cat walked up to him and rubbed her face against his leg. He could hear the cat was purring, so he gave her an affectionate scratch behind the ear as he resumed his walk.

A short time later the pass opened on the valley floor. Walking out from behind a sycamore tree stood a nervous black ram.

"Ah! There be me brave Brudro," he called ready to reprimand. Upon seeing the shame and hurt on his mount's face, he was reminded of his own hair standing on end. Hannar quickly added "Ye did well drawin' them critters away from me like that. That be mighty brave of ye, ole boy," he said, seeing the rams ears pick up." How did ye ever lose em and can ye forgive me fer not comin' sooner?" Winking to Star, he gave the ram a forgiving hug around its neck. Leaping onto his ram's back, he began sharing his plans as he rode. " We be headin' to Southshore on a grand quest."

In his heart, he knew if he could find or get word to Aduro the healer, or Latro the monk, he would find the portal that leads to Telon, the land of heroes.

Author's Comments: This short story was written exclusively for the Vanguard saga of heroes- Warcry Network and its community. I want to give special thanks and to dedicate this story to the hard working staff at Warcry for giving us a great Vanguard Community.