“We met and our scout (Sergeant Bluebeard) relayed information to the patrol. We briefly discussed his findings and each member of the team provided their thoughts. Magister-Corporal Sunwaker proved invaluable with his expertise on the nature of the infernal stones. Given the size of the threat, we decided the most prudent course of action was to notify Camp Victory and request assistance from the Northern Garrison. We would continue tracking the orc band as it made its way north-west. No combat was anticipated as of this time. The situation had seemed under control.”

- From Patrol Report. Year 3000, 5th​ day of BloomingTide. Captain Elric Falmore

Sweat fell down my forehead. The air down here was hotter than the ravine Bluebeard and I had been on. Nevertheless, I pushed my mount forward keeping up with the Captain’s charger. Everybody else seemed to be keeping speed. My horse’s breath was growing ragged. I felt sorry for the beast. We had been sprinting, far longer than we ever had.

Smoke rose in the distance. We were getting close.

I had made a mental note of all my medical supplies. I couldn’t call upon the light to heal so I had to compensate with other means. My shoulders started to ache, but I shrugged it off. There were more important things to worry about. Casualties were imminent. I just hoped we weren’t too late.

What was once a blur in the horizon became clearer. I could make out what appeared to be a large wagon. Fires burning on it.

“Bluebeard! Singlepipe! On Guard!” Captain Falmore yelled. His voice was muffled through his visor but was loud enough that we could hear him clearly.

“Got it Captain,” the gnome and dwarf said in unison.

Bluebeard turned off our left flank with his mount. Singlepipe jumped off his. His mechano-strider kept pace with the rest of us.

The gnome rolled as he landed and quickly spun back upright. He then crouched as his entire body vanished. I knew he didn’t vanish. Just became invisible to the naked eye.

It was an ability rogues possessed known as stealth. It allowed them to use the energy from their bodies to blend into any environment. A handy tool, so long as you didn’t get caught by other, more magical means.

I was sure he was walking to the opposite side of Bluebeard at that moment. Both of them would keep an eye out for any unsavory visitors.

Captain Falmore, Alamere, and I continued forward until we got within walking distance of the wreck.

It was as bad as I expected. The wagon lay sideways, the wheels on one side completely torn off. Fire and smoke billowing out from the interior. Half-open crates and barrels lay strewn. Their contents strewn about the yellow landscape. I could immediately smell something in the smoke. It was familiar.

Strangely absent however, were corpses or wounded.

“Alamere, douse the fires. Eratus, you and I will begin searching. Survivors are the priority. Keep an eye out for traps or ambushes,” the Captain said and got off his mount.

“Yes Captain,” we replied.

The smell got stronger as we dismounted. The elf twitched his noise. He waved a hand over it and a small bubble covered it. Some kind of air purifying spell.

“Sorry, the smell is absolutely deplorable. Do you want me to cover your nose as well?” Alamere said, noticing my gaze.

“Uh…thanks but I’ll be fine,” I replied. Alamere always had a delicate nose. The smell didn’t bother me too much. Besides, there was something familiar about it, maybe I would recall it later.

I began to walk through the wreckage.

“Is there anyone alive! We are Alliance forces!” I yelled.

No response. I kept walking.

It was like a maze. I stepped around a pile of broken glass bottles. I got a glimpse inside a crate that had been hacked open carelessly and with something sharp. There were sheets of paper and what looked like measuring tools. I recognized them. They were in the alchemy shops back home in Northshire. I had seen many while delivering herbal packages for my aunt to her customers.

I peeked into another open crate. Clothes of various sizes. Nothing too fancy, although I didn’t have much an idea of what could be considered fashionable. The colors were faded, but bright enough that the owners were well-off. I picked up a shirt. It was small enough to fit a gnome…or a child.

I stifled the thought. Then I noticed what seemed to be the top of head peeking over a barrel.

I moved my right hand, drawing an invisible shape in the air. It was a movement that had been drilled by years of training under the watchful eyes of paladin instructors. Instinctively, light energy drew out from my core. With each movement, the energy formed around me and once I completed the gesture, formed a protective shell. It was the first ability, also known as seals, of a trained paladin. My order, the Knights of the Silver Hand, called it Sacred shield. I preferred to call it barrier. It was less pompous.

The barrier was a safety precaution. One too many experiences with booby-trapped corpses against rebel forces in Alterac city.

I got around the crate and was greeted with the sight of a woman. Her eyes were wide open, frozen in a look of horror. She looked middle-aged. There was a massive gash slit across her chest. Blood splattered over her clothes. Gauging by her wounds death had come quickly.

Her hands were limp. I noticed an obsidian wedding band around one of her fingers. Damn it. This was certainly another family refugee caravan, fleeing south from the wars raging in the kingdoms of Alterac and Arator.

“Light be with you,” I whispered. I raised my arm, and lowered my forehead to touch my fist in a gesture of prayer. Then in one small modicum of respect for the dead, I closed her eyes. “May you find peace,” I said.

“Did you find something?” Captain Falmore asked. He came up behind me then took one look at the woman’s corpse before shaking his head.

“Damn it,” he said.

“From what I have seen they were refugees,” I said. “They probably couldn’t afford the fees to travel by sea.”

“And a damn foolish decision. Everyone knows how dangerous it is to travel by land nowadays. Especially between Kingdoms. Have you found anyone else?” he asked.

“No. She is the only one,” I replied.

“I’ve searched the other side. Not a single living soul or dead body. Unless you count the horses. This doesn’t make sense. The orcs aren’t known for taking corpses, let alone prisoners for that matter,” the Captain said and wandered off.

It didn’t make much sense either. I found it hard to believe this woman to be the sole member of this caravan.

I watched Alamere get closer to the flames. A blue barrier, covered in ice, shielded him from the inferno. He drew his staff and made several gestures with his right hand. Arcane letters formed in front of him. Then, with both hands gripping his staff, he thrust forward. Purple arcane energy wisped from the staff before morphing into a stream of water. In moments, all that was left was the burned husk of the wagon and steam.

“The flames are doused. As requested,” Alamere said.

I walked toward the burned husk. It was then that I recognized the scent in the smoke. Silverleaf, a type of herb. It grew in abundance in the Arathi Basin. I noticed several barrels full of the burned herb in the corner.

There were some other contents that had largely been scorched into nothingness. As I took a step up to get a closer look for anything salvageable, I heard a soft moan.

My eyes turned and found a badly charred body on the side of the wagon. His eyes looked at mine. He raised a burned stump of an arm toward me.

“Someone is alive!” I yelled.

I stepped off the wagon and came closer to the man. Instinct kicked in. I immediately unslung my knapsack, full of potions and other minor remedies. Contrary to popular belief paladins were trained to use conventional remedies before relying on light energy to heal. It was out of necessity. Light energy needed to be saved for the truly dangerous situations.

There was a strong stench of burned flesh, but I winced it off. I had dealt with worse before.

I quickly glanced at his entire body. The bottom of his face was red or black, burned from the fires. His clothes were charred. With the exception of his right arm, the rest of his limbs were present albeit burned like the rest of him. He was still alive after all this time which meant there was no external bleeding. He had to be a warrior. Only someone with a warrior’s constitution could survive such an ordeal.

I immediately reached into my knapsack and pulled out two vials. One red, to treat wounds, and one orange, to treat burns.

I lifted my visor. “Drink this quickly,” before removing the corks from the vials and dribbled them down his lips.

The man coughed up some of the potion, but I could hear him make an earnest effort to swallow. After a few moments, the potion’s effects were almost instantaneous. Bits of black and red skin fell, and new skin grew to replace it. His breathing became less shallow.

“Good, good. I need to check the rest of your body for any wounds,” I said reaching for my shears.

“Is he alright?” Captain Falmore asked, coming up behind me.

“Yes sir. I need water to treat him. He is badly burned but might make it,” I replied. It wasn’t the usual way I would speak to a superior officer. However when a life was on the line healers outranked everyone on-site.

“Got it…I’ll go get Alamere,” he said then took off.

“A-Are you Alliance?” the man asked. His voice hoarse.

“Yes. We are here to help. You are still badly wounded, but you might make it. I need to cut your clothes and check for injuries underneath,” I said reaching down with my shears.

“My wife… I-Is she still alive?” he asked.

My face twisted in sorrow as I recalled the corpse of the woman earlier. I opened my mouth to say something but he interrupted.

“N-No need. I-I was being hopeful… They killed her first. The orcs. They came s-so quickly. They-,” he said then coughed.

“I am sorry. We came as fast we could,” I replied. My shears cut through the cloth, revealing his chest. I winced at the sight. “Please hold still, and drink this,” I said pouring another red vial of healing potion down his mouth.”

The man coughed and drank.

“I-It doesn’t matter. H-healing potions don’t work that way. I…I’m an alchemist,” he coughed.

I smiled. “I believe it. However, the potions are only to help you while your body’s natural healing takes into effect. Your class is a warrior isn’t it?” I asked and began to shuffle through my knapsack for a surgeon’s box.

The man’s lips creeped into what I believed was a smile. “Five generations and counting… My father balked when I said I wanted to make a living as an alchemist. He…He was a soldier. Always wanted a soldier son…carry the legacy…,” the man replied.

“You are from Arathi Basin I am guessing? I smelled the Silverleaf in the wagon?” I asked. I finally found my surgeon’s box and pulled it out.

“Yes…Arathi. I…I took my family south. The civil war…it destroyed our town. Lordearon and Gilneas closed their borders…S-Stormwind was our only hope…,” he replied.

I nodded. I remembered the sights of hundreds of desperate families in Southshore, hoping to board a boat for Stormwind. Alterac was in chaos during the occupation, and the Kingdom of Arator was in a civil war over the succession of its king.

I picked up a clean needle from the box.

“I’m going to have to poke another hole. From the state of your chest, you won’t be able to breathe in a few minutes,” I said and brought the needle closer.

“I…I d-don’t have much time. They…They left me and my wife to die, but they took my c-children. Emma. Neras. Please….please, s-save them,” he asked. Tears formed on his face.

I almost wanted to turn away. I hated the sight of tears.

“Please sir. You will make it out of this,” I said. I leaned closer, aiming the needle over his right nipple. Away from the heart and over a collapsed lung.

The man reached for my hand and grabbed it. “Please…promise!” he pleaded. His eyes demanded an answer.

I could tell all of his strength was going in to making this one final request. I had seen those same desperate eyes before. It was what caused mothers to send their children forward on overcrowded refugee boats. For fathers to lead their families across inhospitable swamps and deserts. The eyes that held a parent’s love.

“I promise. We will ensure your children are safe,” I replied and tightly held his hands.

The man, content with the answer, released his grip. He drew one final breath then closed his eyes. Passing into oblivion.

“No! Stay with me. Come on!” I pleaded.

I dropped the needle and began to perform a seal. It was one that I had not done in two years. A seal of healing. I felt the light well up, and then it dissipated before I could finish it. I tried again. And again.

In desperation, I tried to reach for the light. Forcing it into the desired form. Suddenly, an image flashed before my eyes. A red dress. A murky dungeon. The amber light of a torch. Shrieking.

“NO!” I yelled and I lost control as the light energy I attempted to harness recoiled. I fell.

“Eratus!” someone yelled out.

Everything was blurry. I tried to stand upright but lost my balance. Everything spun. I fell again. This time strong hands kept me up.

“Are you alright?” the figure asked. My vision gradually became sharper and I recognized Captain Falmore.

“I’m fine…Just, tried to exert a little too hard,” I replied. I stood back upright.

Captain Falmore looked at me skeptically, then turned to the man. “Is he still alive?” he asked.

“No. I couldn’t save him,” I said, closing my eyes in shame. My fists tightened and I noticed something in my hands. Something the man left behind. It was a straw doll, meant for a child.

“Don’t worry. You did everything you could,” Captain Falmore said putting a hand on my shoulder.

“I brought water as requested,” Alamere said appearing with a globe of water floating on his hand.

He looked at the two of us, then at the unmoving man by the wagon.

Alamere sighed. “Such is the frailty of mortal life,” he said. His hands twisted and the globe of water vanished.

I felt a rattling in the back of my belt. It was coming from my bag of hearthstones. I reached around and removed the glowing pebble.

“Message from main camp?” Captain Falmore asked.

“Yes sir,” I replied. I put the glowing pebble on the ground. I channeled light energy into it.

Another pebble popped into existence next to it, alongside a scroll. Captain Falmore picked up the scroll, undid the bindings, and read.

“Bah!” Captain Falmore said.

“I am assuming the news is not good,” said Alamere.

“The northern garrison has been notified. However, they will not be pursuing the orcs to this site. They are instead going to wait for the orcs to appear at the border entrances. Useless, spineless cowards. As if the orcs are going to be taking Alliance roads!” Captain Falmore said and threw the scroll.

Alamere rubbed his forehead and closed his eyes in frustration. “Well, that is a shame. Hopefully they will be able to intercept the orcs,” he said.

“We can’t let them,” I said.

“What do you mean? You heard the news. Other forces have been called to deal with this threat,” Alamere said.

“The orcs have taken children. I promised the man before he passed,” I said tightly clutching the doll.

“Eratus….,” Alamere said hands on his head in frustration. “I know you always had a bit of a heroic streak in you, but you must look at this practically.”

“Well we can’t just let them escape! You heard Captain Falmore, they will never catch the orcs once they reach the northern mountains. You know what those warlocks are capable of, or what depraved rituals they have planned with living sacrifices,” I said.

“As I said, it is a shame. However, we must be prudent and not throw ourselves needlessly at such a desperate endeavor. The orcs outnumber us two to one. They have two warlocks, and should I mention two infernal stones. We are not exactly in any position to deal with them,” Alamere said.

I didn’t want to admit it but Alamere was right. It wasn’t our duty to go after the orcs. By Alliance authority, the situation has been dealt to another element. Orders had been given and orders needed to be obeyed.

There was a brief silence between us.

“I fully agree with Sunwaker on this. We do not possess the means to tackle such a force,” Captain Falmore said.

Alamere nodded, satisfied that his view won out. I grimaced.

“But… Knight-Lieutenant Eratus, you mentioned rituals. Alamere you are our arcane expert. What sort of rituals do you think these warlocks could conduct with living sacrifices?” Captain Falmore asked.

The elf gave the Captain a questioning eye. He was never really one to be curious about anything related to the magical arts. “Well Captain. You should note that warlocks don’t necessarily require the use of specific sacrifices. What is more important is the lifeforce present in the victims. Warlocks would channel the life-force of their victims as a power source, most notable in cases to cast powerful spells. It is suggested that such a ritual on a larger scale was used to open the initial portal to Azeroth from whatever homeland they came from. Although, precisely what manner of senti-,” Alamere rambled but was then interrupted.

“I think that is enough information. And when did they typically deem such rituals for use?” he asked.

“It was rare but typically in circumstances when they were outnumbered or against superior Alliance forces,” he replied.

“Curious… and could such rituals be used to activate, say an infernal stone?” he asked.

Alamere gave the Captain an irritated glance, knowing which direction he was steering this conversation to. “It has never been seen in-person but would be feasible given the right circumstances,” he answered.

“Well then, it appears we have to act, and that we have sufficient cause and reason to attempt this rescue. After all, I believe one of our secondary duties is to deprive the enemy of anything that could endanger Alliance military forces. I do believe in this case, the children, can be used as resources to use infernal stones against a superior Alliance force, such as the northern garrison,” he said.

If there was one thing, I learned from Captain Falmore was his ability to slick his way through any type of order that he didn’t agree with. Orders had to be followed. However, some orders were more important than others.

Alamere sighed. “Captain, this is a poor decision.”

“My decision is my own Sunwaker. Besides, as we once discussed, we’ve been through worse,” he said. “Please go and get Singlepipe and Bluebeard. We are going on a raid.”

The elf magister sighed in frustration. “As you wish,” he said then walked away.

I looked at Captain Falmore. My expression one of awe. He smirked.

“Sometimes, you just need to do the right thing. Orders and rules be damned,” he said.