The Sarlet Dawn - Four

((The Scarlet Dawn is the title of a derivative piece of fiction set in the WoW universe, written by Krizzlybear for National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo). As per the word count demands of NaNoWriMo, all spelling and grammar errors, continuity problems, and failures to adhere to canon, are unintentional, and will not be attended to until the end of November. Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoy.))

A black widow spider crawled up a nearby wall. It was a combination of a brick and mortar understructure, panneled by polished oak and red velvet linings filling in the gaps. But that was when it was new. Now it was a mess. The oak was worn and rotted, its holes revealing the understructures. The velvet was soiled, its crimson color hiding the various stains of blood that had spilt onto it over the numerous years.

It crawled up into rafters, overlooking the room below. Large enough to fit a committee of evildoers, but private enough to keep an evil mastermind comfortable in its vacancy. The lair was adequate for the master’s likings, but due to his sheer insanity, he paid no heed to its details and nuances.

Instead, the master nestled back onto his makeshift chair, crafted from panels ripped off the floor, as well as the bones of numerous henchemen who had displeased him over the years. It was a justified action, since any form of ineptitude could have been caused by the slightest form of Scourge taint. Yes, he would think to himself. It was necessary to kill them, otherwise he had risked that his Crusade was tainted by the Scourge, the unrelenting force of undead that threatened the livelihood of the Human race, or, in light of recent events, his Human race.
The black widow receded into a crack in the ceiling. His room was completely shut out from the rest of the cathedral.

"Ah, yes. They should be here by now...if they lived"

Earlier, he had sent a trio of henchmen to the depths of Khaz Modan, where a large contingent of lepper gnomes dwelled. If his creation worked as intended, he would be able to spawn a countless horde of undead, each at the cost of mortal lives and souls. He cackled in anticipation, completely absorbed in his self-accepted lunacy.
He sensed a figure skulking behind the door to his lair.

“Enter!” Said the master.

A frightened man stepped through the doorway, paying no heed to his surroundings, or his master, who sat in the unspeakably horrid chair. He learned from his peers not to look at the master straight into his eyes in order to avoid any chance of angerring him. If he had, the consequences could cost the man his worthless, pathetic life.

“Speak, coward!” The master said. “How goes Gnomeregan?”

Trembling, the man kept focus on the floor close to his feet. Stammering at first, he struggled to force the unfortunate news from his mouth.

“S-S-Sir!”

Sweat began dripping from his forehead, running down his neck into his armor.

“Sir...We did as you asked. We went to Gnomeregan, and was able to use the orb successfully. The lepper turned into a ghoulish monster!”

“Hrmm...” The master looked down at his henchman, aware of his discomfort. He continued studying his state of anxiety.

“You’ve done well.” He finally said. “Where are the other two?”

“D-d-dead, sir. I mean, they’re gone. The monster ran after us after the transformation, and killed the others. They turned into monsters themselves. I managed to escape.”

The master considered what he had heard. If the orb worked as intended, then the afflicted would turn into zombies. They became undead horrors much like those of the Scourge, if not the exact same.

“You’ve done well, dog!” The master rejoiced, laughing maniacally. Whether it was at the man, or at the success of his plan, or due to plain hysteria, niether of the two knew. “I can carry out the next phase of my plan. Leave, or else I will use you as a test subject!”

The henchman gave no remark of acknowledgement or gratitude. He disappeared as quickly as he could, avoiding his demise in case the master had changed his mind.
Yes, the master thought, slouching further into his chair of human remains. The orb worked, but perhaps too well. If he wanted to create his own army equal to the scourge, he would have to make sure that those who had used the orb survived themselves. It was a conundrum that puzzled him for a moment, but he conceded that there was no way to preserve the numbers of his troops, unless somehow they were immune to the effects of transformation.

The ones who used the orbs were those would need to be undead in the first place.

Arriving at this conclusion, the master stood up from his chair, skulking towards a bookshelf that took up an entire wall of the room. Sliding his fingers against the numerous spines of texts that were neatly arranged in front of him, he stopped at a spot of interest, reading the label as he tilted his head sideways.

THE DEATH KNIGHTS OF ACHERUS

He removed the book from the shelf, and opened the cover. Scanning through its contents, he let out a sigh of disapproval.

“My plans will need to be modified,” The master said. “If they are to succeed.”

((Running word count: 6001))

The Scarlet Dawn - Three

((The Scarlet Dawn is the title of a derivative piece of fiction set in the WoW universe, written by Krizzlybear for National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo). As per the word count demands of NaNoWriMo, all spelling and grammar errors, continuity problems, and failures to adhere to canon, are unintentional, and will not be attended to until the end of November. Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoy.))

In the depths of a wooded area to the east of Auberdine, the Night Elven port village, a meager squirrel scampered its way up and down an oaken tree. One by one, nuts were carried up to an enclosed area towards the top of the tree's trunk. Mindlessly going along with its instincts as the world's winter drew ominously near, the squirrel continued obliviously until it had met its fate.

Midway through the seventeenth trip, the tiny critter was interrupted by a fatal swipe of a rabid bear's claw. In nature, this particular grizzly would have minded its own business as it made its own preparations for the colder months. Instead, however, a force unknown to both the predator and its prey had caused this sudden change in behaviour.

The grizzly intently stared down at its dead victim, instinctively proud of its catch, yet at the same time clouded by its sudden burst of primal rage. Soon, that rush of aggression had returned, and the bear thirsted for more violence.

Then it fell asleep.

As if under some sort of spell, a spiritual force beckoned to the animal's most basic nurturing instinct, pleading with it to regain a hold of its natural role in the forest.

No, it had said. Never will you do that.

The voice had spoken with a somber tone, and ragged the bear's brain with a calming aura. It drifted off into nothingness and ceased to be a physical threat to any living being within its vicinity.

Meanwhile, the druid who had cast the spell wiped the sweat off her brow as she took out a tiny dart from a pocket of her simple brown tunic. Confident that she had successfully subdued the bear, she neatly stuck the dart into the hide of the hibernating animal. She tensed herself in anticipation of the bear possibly emerging from sleep in primal rage, but the effects of the dart had done its job.

The druid closed her eyes, and sensed the serenity of the bear's spirit, as if it were freed from an unseen evil grasp. She accepted its thanks, and quickly disappeared from the spiritual realm that she had entered.

Minutes later, the druid appeared once again amidst the other inhabitants of Auberdine. She sneaked up to another Night elf, and handed to him several darts that were left unused during her chore.

"Your service is deeply appreciated, Leyola."

She nodded. Leyola Swiftwillow was a helpful druid, well-known to the working people of Auberdine. Even without her valued service, her pale, purple-grey skin and mysterious visage highlighted by long, wavy silver hair stood out amongst her kin. She was very tall for a Night Elf, yet her curves were apparent from her fitted tunic and thin, jet black cloak. She was an intriguing sight, and that alone may have had merit free passage from Auberdine to her home in Darnassus, a mere boat ride away.

But these were troubling times in Kalimdor, the Western island continent of the world of Azeroth. Auberdine, a town developed on the northwest coast of the continent, was no exception. Leyola was summoned to the presence of her druid teacher during the middle of an independent training exercise aimed at strengthening her mental and spiritual focus towards her own abilities.

She had meditated for hours, but a voice of concern from her master had undone all of her work, but justifiably so. If she was interrupted in such a way, it was probably due to a very troubling situation. Because of this, she was anxious to return to her home. But despite this, she did not anticipate having to pay a boat fare to get back to the Night Elven capital.

"As a servant of Elune," Leyola Swiftwillow jested in a manner that did not suggest a strong allegiance to the moon goddess, "I had figured you to grant me passage so that I could hastily fulfill my duties."

"I apologize miss Leyola," the patron said, "but I didn't know who to turn to at the time. Perhaps you can report the situation in the forest to your shan'do."

"Fair enough."

She had observed the obscurity of the behaviour of the local fauna, and attributed their radical changes to some external agent that threatened the natural balance within the woods surrounding Auberdine. Leyola acknowledged the Night Elf's plea, having sensed the disturbance, and was determined to bring up the topic with her teacher when she had the chance.

A boat pulled up to the docks closeby, large enough only to carry a few passengers and a limited amount of cargo. The architecture and build of the boat was clearly of Night Elf origin, which indicated that the female druid would be able to take her leave. With a wave farewell, she inwardly worried for the man, hoping that the Mother Moon would protect him and his town of Auberdine during this trying time.

She boarded the vessel, tightening the wrap of her cloak around her slender body.

The boat disappeared into the mists, the evening fog surrounding Leyola as she leaned unassumingly onto the portside rails. She contemplated her future amongst the Night Elves. One part of her considered that her success as a member of the Cenarion Circle was undeserved; as a child of two veterans of the Third War, their clout amongst the Cenarion Enclave was apparent, and Leyola's favor amongst her instructors was apparent. Regardless, she worked hard to become as skilled as she was, and she had vowed to put forth an effort in her work, despite what others thought.

She kept abosrbing herself into her thoughts as the boat was into the mist. Several hours passed before she arrived in Darnassus.

Darnassus was a bustling city, and the Night Elven Capital. It resided miles above the sea, nestled in the boughs of Teldrassil, the last World Tree of Azeroth. Above the clouds, the city comfortably nested its inhabitants, who scuffled about their business in the same manner they had done for as long as it had existed. Amongst its citizens, an uneasy social tnsion could be felt between both the Druids and priests and priestesses of Elune, the moon goddess worshipped by the Night Elves themselves.

The boat finished its trip, its captain tying the vessel to a rickety dock, several yards away from solid ground. Leyola, not one to take chances on the structural integrity of the makeshift port, hurried her way onto dry land. Once she had done so, she had finally reached the World Tree, standing on its very roots, thousands upon thousands of feet below the canopy where the capital lay.

She stepped into a chamber near the base of the tree. It radiated with a magical lunar pink energy, perhaps powered by the Moon Goddess Herself. As soon as she had entered, she was instantly in Darnassus. Amongst her was the chatter of passers-by, and immediately she sought the tranquility of the more rustic scenery of the Cenarion Enclave.

The Cenarion Enclave was an open, grassy sector in Darnassus that catered to all Night Elf Druids. Compared to its neighbouring district, the more commercial Craftsman Terrace, its structures were carved into the trees themselves, rather than made of its material as the numerous shops and inns were in the terraced sector. Here, the druids lived in harmony with the flora, which were merely extensions of the world tree itself.

The tallest and most grandoise tree in the Enclave housed the Archdruid Fangren Staghelm, leader of the Druids. It also served as the training center for up and coming Druids. A recent alumnus of the program, Leyola no longer visited the training center, and preferred to have her meetings with her mentor out in the open, amongst the trees themselves, rather than within.

She arrived at a spot to her liking, and sat down with crossed legs. Closing her eyes, she opened her soul to the nature around her. Her breathing settling into a slow rhythm, she emptied her mind, and a spiritual aspect of her seperate from her body. The world around her new form faded out of color into a dim, faded monochrome. She was now floating above and amongst the the clouds. She felt that she was still in Darnassus, but somehow she had returned to a time before the World Tree itself, before the separation of the contents.

The Emerald Dream. The refuge of druid meditation. She had finally perfected control over herself as she soared through it, thanks to the teachings of her teacher, who she now knew was observing her physical form.

"My child, you have come a long way."

A deep voice swirled through her from without, as if spoken from the wind as it blew through the foliage of Teldrassil itself. Having found him, she prompted herself to return to her earthly self.

Her eyes opened, revealing pupiless, silver orbits, characteristic of her race. In front of her was the form of her mentor. "My shan'do. What is it that you called me for?"

Leyola's Shan'do, or beloved teacher, Valfare Stormsong was a master of the restorative druidic arts. With great authority, he wielded the power to heal and nourish those that suffered. He channeled the power of the trees with such command, to the extent that he took the form of a tree himself. A treant, his body features mimicked that of the forests themselves. His legs curled around themselves as roots, but was capable of walking like any elf. His arms stretched out sideways and in front of himself like branches. His skin was literally bark, hardened to protect him against the harshest environments, and wrinkled around his face, making him look older and wiser than his years.

"My child, I apologize for calling you here on short notice."

Leyola stood up slowly and respectfully. "Shan'do, there is something wrong with the balance of nature?"

Valfare sighed, the features on his stonelike face drooping with slight subtlety.

"It is as you fear, dear Leyola. A dark force threatens to not only encroach on the balance of nature, but the laws of life and death itself!"

Life and death itself, the thought sent a haunting chill down Leyola's lengthy spine. Whether or this unseen evil was related to Auberdine and the rabid bears, she did not know. She never even bothered questioned Valfare about Auberdine, considering that this threat was of greater concern.

"What can I..." She lost herself mid-sentence. "...How can I be of any use? I'm just a novice!"

Leyola bowed her head apologetically, as if she had failed her master in some way.

Valfare let out a deep chuckle, one that ruffled the leaves on his own branches. He turned at the waist, looking around for something or someone.

"Novice? You don't think highly enough of yourself, my child. Your reputation reaches further than you would expect!"

Leyola's face darkened, akin to a blush. She was quite aware that she drew attention to herself unwillingly wherever she went. Partly she thought it was due to her uncommon appearance by Night Elf standards. In another way, she remembered that her parents were war veterans, and that the Swiftwillow household had a nobility due to their contribution to the third War, and their efforts at the Battle of Mount Hyjal.

In fact, she had begun to notice that her surname took on synonymity with Hyjal itself, according to talks between her former druid peers and instructors.

She shrugged. "I suppose just a bit. But I still want to earn my praise, teacher."

Her shan'do smiled. "Yes. It is as you say, Leyola. Your parents were fine warriors."

He shared his reminiscence with his student. Having fought with her parents at Hyjal, he knew the elder Swiftwillows as if they were siblings. He even took pride in bringing the two together romantically. Returning the favor, his closest friends entrusted their only daughter to his care, hoping that he could help her walk the path of the Cenarion circle.

Leyola smiled regretfully whenever her teacher told her that story. She missed them dearly, and hoped that they would return from their duties in Outland, the dreaded place beyond the Dark Portal of Azeroth.

She shook off her sudden wave of emotion, replacing her saddened face with a stern look at Valfare. "I am at your service."

Valfare shot a look of disappointment.

"I'm sorry, Leyola. There's not enough time for me to teach you. You've learned a great deal from me, I can only hope that your skills would be of best use against this looming darkness. I suppose that you know about the Argent Dawn?"

Leyola curled an eyebrow in slight misunderstanding. "Yes...I suppose I have."

The tree sighed with relief. "Great. Go to them. They'll be waiting for you in front of the Temple of the Moon."

Leyola acknowledged his request and began to make her leave. She barely took two steps before she was grabbed by a branch. Instantly, she was caught in a warm embrace.

"Take care, my child." He smiled. "You were taught by one of the best healing druids in the Cenarion Circle. You will do well."

Leyola smiled, her skin darker once more. "Thank you."

She proudly walked away, heading in the direction of the temple, a short distance south of the Enclave.

Mother Moon, watch over my student. Valfare prayed to himself. She just might have what it takes to become the Tree of Life.

((Running word coun: 5162))

The Scarlet Dawn - Two

((The Scarlet Dawn is the title of a derivative piece of fiction set in the WoW universe, written by Krizzlybear for National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo). As per the word count demands of NaNoWriMo, all spelling and grammar errors, continuity problems, and failures to adhere to canon, are unintentional, and will not be attended to until the end of November. Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoy.))

Thousands of feet below the surface of the earth, a wonderous city remained abandoned and partially in ruins. Expanding as far as any being could see, Gnomeregan's infrastructure stretched for countless miles in all directions. Its buildings and houses built with meticulate detail, every single structure was crafted with at least some form of technological variance from the norm. The average building stood erect on smelted metal, its parts bolted together and lined with arcano-electrical wiring for numerous automagical purposes. Whether it be for simple lighting or for visually communicative lilve transmissions to other outposts not only on other continents, but even on other worlds.

And those were just the average house. In more mechanically advanced districts, more complicated structures were present, and had more robotic, lifelike qualities to them. In the heart of the city, a grand platform appeared to perpetually hover above the rest, supported only chains to stabilize its position over the rest of the city. The sheer fact that it remained intact all these years after the city's evacuation is a wonder for even the most gifted engineers.

And yet, as fast as it had been built and develloped, it had been taken away just as quickly. The gnomes who had previously occupied that city, were invaded by a fearsome yet numerous race called the Troggs, barbaric and violent beings that emerged from the depths of the earth when the urban sprawl had gone too far. It had led to their peoples downfall, and except for a handful of Troggs, the city was devoid of gnomes.

Except for Wimzig Wintersprug.

A mage by nature, Wimzig peered into a scrying orb that he formed by himself. Through this orb, he was able to see a multitude of numerous views of the city that he had once called home. Why he always spent his time there, none of his peers knew; all that mattered to him was that one day he would help his exiled bretheren retake the city and find his missing kin.

The orb dissipated into nothingness, and Wimzig sighed. "Nothing today." He said. "They must be hiding, they must."

He drew an imaginary line in the space in front of him, and with a quick thought, a cane sublimated into form. He grabbed it in mid-hover, and began to walk with it.

For a gnome, he was quite old, but other than the cane he now wielded, his appearance did not indcate as such. With a full head of thick black hair and a bushy mustache, he passed for a gnome recently of age, even though he had studied the arcane arts for nearly two decades.

A veteran of the Battle of Gnomeregan against the Troggs, there was a sense of unease in the mage as he lightly stepped through a connecting tunnel littered with rubble from the rocky ceilings above. Eyeing the crevaces in the cavernous walls for possible Trogg encampments, he stayed alert for any ambushes. Even though it was rightfully his home, those beasts had conquered it handily, and were prone to mercilessly destroying any and all intruders.

At the end of the tunnel, Wimzig approached a large metal door, nearly shut, apparently jammed from its automatic open/close functions. Placing his tiny hand on the aged, neglected metal panels, he studied the elemental composition of the obstacle before him.

"Eleven-point-six percent Carbon, fifty seven-poin-nine-three percent Iron...Hello!"

His thin lips curved upward, turning a huaghty grin.

"Three-point-seven-seven percent solidified Iron oxide? How depressing..."

He frowned at it. Rust. Plain old rust.

Wimzig whispered a spell, and suddenly his hand radiated a yellow glow that spread through his four fingers onto the door itself. It began to hiss, as an acidic reagent began to line the surface, dissolving the rust, yet keeping the rest of the door intact.

When the time was appropriate, Wimzig disengaged from contact with the door, and walked towards a nearby panel. Pressing a sequence of keys that he remembered from long ago, the door opened with a hiss of steam coming from the vents above. It operated again as if brand new.

The end of the path opened up again, and Wimzig walked through, now appearing in a new section of the city previously blocked off from his scrying orb.

From a quick glance at his surroundings, he concluded that this was a residence district, to which his fellow gnomes would retire after a day's work in the central market areas. He picked up the pace of his step, and eventually reached a particular structure, still standing, its banner still intact and hanging from the top.

"Wintersprug Water Emporium."

For the first time since the beginning of the Third War, which had happened several years ago, he was once again home.

He was not alone.

Hearing footsteps grow louder from behind him, he concentrated on his own form, and studied the surrounding light sources. Visualizing the arcane fields flow around him, he quickly formed a line running around himself, and directed the flow at it. When the spell was cast, the surrounding light was completely absorbed, and no form of visual colour had escaped from his being. He turned completely invisible.

Still able to visually and audibly sense the world around him, he quickly settled himself against a nearby wall, monitoring the space around him.

From the tunnel from which he came, several figures clad in robes and armor marched into the vicinity.

"Is this the place the commander spoke of?" one mail-wearing individual asked.

"Yes," another robed figure replied. "The map leads to this spot."

"Keep your eyes open then," the third and final individual remakred. "There should be a few lepper gnomes around here still."

Lepper gnomes, the unfortunates who were unable to be evacuated when the Troggs invaded, were victims of the invasion. In a desperate attempt to ward off the encroaching beasts, the leader of the gnomes, Gelbin Mekkatorque, released a cloud of radaiation from the city's vents, long after they had evacuated most of Gnomeregan's citizens. Unfortunately, the attack that was directed at the Troggs also hit straggling gnomes, who had been turned into psychotic shells of their former selves.

Wimzig's former love, Karin Coldchill, was one of them.

Wimzig cringed slightly as he suddenly reminded himself of her. He continued evesdropping on the trio in front of him, who were clearly not Gnomes or Troggs. By the time he had set his focus on them again, they were now two.

The two figures in front of him bore tabards with a red crest of Lordaeron, a former kingdom from the northern region of the continent. One of them had a red hyena under his care. They both waited for the third to return from wherever he or she may have gone.

Wimzig continued observing them from his invisible state, until the third came running back to the group.

"One's coming out!" The person said as he rejoined the group, having emerged from a nearby alley.

The trio and their pet readied a defensive stance as a fourth figure emerged from the same alley, this one less than half the height of the the initial three. It was also covered with radiation, and glowed a sickly green. A lepper gnome.

The robed figure took out a glass orb from his pocket, and threw it at the lepper gnome. A fiendish green slime sprayed out at him, causing him to shake about in discomfort. As he continued to stumble around in a circle as the slime was absorbed into the body, the green glow that the lepper gnome had emitted suddenly vanished.

Remarkable! Wimzig thought to himself, still veiled, yet fully able to witness what had happened. If he could figure out what the strangers had used, then there was a possibility that he could cure his-

A loud yell echoed throughout the underground mechanical suburb. The gnome writhed with a shriek of pain as its skin began to peel at the shoulders and face. As tiny as he initially was, his form somehow grew in height significantly, but left him still significantly shorter than the three figures who had caused his condition. His back hunched, and his innards and organs became visible through the clothing, which ripped as a result of the growth.

Claws, fangs, veiny yet lifeless eyes marked the completion of the zombification of the poor lepper gnome.

It raged on its own initially, before setting its eyes on the three people out in the open. Almost as quickly as it had changed, the monster had run up to the three and gave chase.

"Run away! We need to tell the commander!" Said one of them.

Quickly, the others complied and they hurried off to the tunnel from where they came.

In an instant, Wimzig was once again by his lonesome, successfully not drawing any attention to himself from the parties who he just witnessed. Dispelling his own illusion, he came into visible form, and widened his eyes in sheer disbelief.

"Gelbin must know, he must!" He muttered. Quickly, he reached out his arms slightly to the side of him, and they began to emanate a subtle purple glow.

And just as quickly, he was gone as well.

((running word count: 2888. I'll pick things up by this weekend. Thanks for the kidn words so far, everyone! And don't worry, I promise to put at least some form of non-NaNo content in the blog. Just haven't done much besides dailys anyways.))

The Scarlet Dawn - One

((The Scarlet Dawn is the title of a derivative piece of fiction set in the WoW universe, written by Krizzlybear for National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo). As per the word count demands of NaNoWriMo, all spelling and grammar errors, continuity problems, and failures to adhere to canon, are unintentional, and will not be attended to until the end of November. Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoy.))

Gaz Grimblefizz shivered as a gust of wind crept into the Everlook Inn. Snowfall was perpetual in the aptly named trade outpost of Winterspring, but the chill of winter was always sudden when the cold season had arrived. He sniffled right afterward, his lips pursing downwards at the discomfort of his work at this time of the year. The house itself was simple in architecture, but its limited practicality offered little, if any, insulation from the onslaught of cold from the outside. It was unsurprising then that the inn itself had practically no visitors this time of the year.

Tonight was an exception, however, Gaz heard several knocks on his front door.

"Ring the bell, you nitwit!" He exclaimed furiously, worried that the knocks would destroy his flimsy door.

There was silence, but it was interrupted by a peculiar sequence of blips and beeps emenating from Gaz's engineered speaker system. The noise was music to his ears, and as he exhaled, he found himself ready to accept his first and perhaps only guest of the entire season. "Okay, you can come in now! The door is open, okay?"

As the orchestrated blips and bloops ended, silence hung once again, but this time, it had lingered for an ominously long amount of time. Whoever this person was, he was not eager to open the door himself.

"Stupid guests!" Gaz muttered under his own breath. "Why do I get all the crazies this time of year?" He hobbled off of his cozy Bear-hide chair, and proceeded towards the door, several feet away from him, but on the opposite side of the lone furnace in the establishment.

He better have a good explanation for all this, he thought to himself. As he arrived at the front door, he placed his tiny green hand on the knob and began to turn it. He stopped midway when he heard a low groan from the other side.

uuurrgggghhh...

The sudden sound broke the silence, and Gaz's fume of annoyance quickly turned into a trembling fear. He was a coward, despite his swashbuckler business-like demeanour, and the noise he heard immediately prompted him to think twice about turning the knob the rest of the way.

"Who is it?" Gaz whimpered, suddenly turning onery again. "If this is Krizzle Crumblespark, you better stop that, you jerk!"

His remark was replied with more silence. With an arched brow, Gaz crouched down to take a peek through the gap between the floor and the bottom of the door. Unfortunately, he saw nothing suspicious from underneath, and flinched in sudden confusion.

Curiously, he stood back up and opened the door just enough to stick his head out. A gust of winter air blew into his face, and Gaz cringed at the chill that travelled from his head to the soles of his feet. Part was from the cold, but mostly due to his immense terror. What the hell made that sound?

Grabbing a Yeti-maned cloak from a nearby rack, he went out onto the front steps of the inn, only to see most of the town in front of him, devoid of any populace. It was expected, as it was quite late into the evening, perhaps almost past midnight. The storm that evening left a new layer of snow, and aside from Gaz's own, there were no visible indication of footsteps leading up to or away from the entrance. Gaz was irked once more, wondering who or what had knocked on his door in the first place. Another loud roar of wind brushed against his ears, deafening him for a few seconds. He gave up at his line of thought, succombing to his bodily need for warmth.

Immediately, he rushed back inside, both to avoid the cold as well as whatever this unseen horror may have been. He shut the door as quickly as he could, bolting every lock in place. "Inn's closed! Get the hell out of here!" Gaz shouted, hoping that there was nobody around to hear his plea.

He sighed as he dropped his cloak on the floor, and he shivered again at the sudden drop in temperature emanating from within within. "Lousy furnace!" He grumbled, as he wobbled towards the other end of the room, only to see that the furnace was gone.

Not gone, but rather literally ripped out of the wall and floor into which it was built. A giant hole was left in place.

"What the hell is going on he-"

The door behind him rattled with a loud shriek. The force shaking it almost knocked the bolts out of their places, and the doorbell began to chime once again, but this time with unsynched blips and bloops that rang more out of dysfunction than anything.

"OH MY GOD!"

He ran towards the door to try and brace it shut, but his steps were not soon enough, as the entrance completely collapsed to the force outside. The doorway, and significant chunks of bricks that lined it, gave way to the sight of a hulking zombie, nearly twice the size as Gaz himself.

"urrrgghhh..." It moaned. The exact same sound Gaz heard earlier.

It limped haphazardly towards him, nearly tripping over the fallen debris. Paralyzed in fear, Gaz stared into its lifeless eyes as he unnoticingly fell backwards onto the floor, his sight still fixed on the figure in front of him.

The undead individual towered over Gaz, its flesh ripped and torn in numerous places, revealing veins, muscles, and hints of visceral matter in its torso area. It raised an arm as it began to howl, showing fanged teeth and flaring, yet soulless eyes. Gaz tried to raise his own arm in defence, but the zombie's swipe cracked through his forearm. Its massive claws raked Gaz in the face, leaving scars that ran from nose to navel.

In sheer pain, Gaz rose to his feet instinctively, running out into the main street of Everlook. He ran towards a particular house that still had its lights on, and banged on the door. Repeatedly.

Gaz could feel another surge of pain, and as he looked down on himself, he saw his green skin burst out in numerous places. His hands swelled to the point of sheer agony, as his fingers sprouted massive claws. Now he no longer had control over his own voice. Trying to scream at his own terror, all he could muster was a low goblin groan of his own.

"OOOooowwwwww..."

His movements were no longer his own, but he remained aware of his own sense of sight and sound. He saw himself continue to pound against the door, and could hear the screams coming from within. He knew he was lost to the affliction that he had contracted. He saw himself tear down the door, and skulk at the human family that dwelled within.

Moments later, a group of four zombies emerged from the house, as they continued to spread out to the other buildings of Everlook. Despite the blistering wind, the resulting swarm became absorbed in their own hunger for flesh and violence.

Gaz was now part of a mob of living dead, as they ravaged and ripped through building after building, finally setting their eyes on one particular house, this one bearing the banner of a white sun on a black background.

"GWAAARR!!" Gaz bellowed, as he swung his arm at the wall of the complex, immediately felling the structure itself. From the rubble, a group of people clad in armor and tabards bearing the same symbol as the house's banner emerged. A robed human female stepped forward from the group towards the mob and said a silent prayer as she closed her eyes.

Almost immediately, a surge of light radiated from the woman, and hit every last zombie in her vicinity. They fell back, but were not defeated. The strike was enough to incapacitate them for just long enough for the group to run away.

As they trogged through the snow, all the Argent soldiers could do now was report to their companions, and hope that the oncoming menace could be stopped in time.

((running word count: 1352. TERRIBLE! I'm so off the pace, but I was busy this weekend doing my last raids of the BC expansion. I have the whole story planned out already, so it's all a matter of putting it into words, and hoping that it will eventually reach the 50,000 plateau. Stay tuned for part two!))

The Scarlet Dawn

In a land plagued by undeath, one individual makes her vow to restore life, and another seeks to understand it. But a corrupted organization stands in the way of their goals in the...



Leyola Swiftwillow, a druid with a storied family history, makes a name for herself by enlisting with the Argent Dawn in their fight against the Undead Plague.

Wimzig Wintersprug, a gifted gnomish mage, seeks to discover his place in the world by embarking on a journey to find a cure for a disease that afflicts his cherished race.

Little do they realize that fate will cross their paths. In the midst of a recent plague wrought by the Lich King, Arthas Menethil, this unlikely duo will have to learn to work with each other as they uncover a grand conspiracy that threatens to destroy all of Azeroth.

Will they succeed? Only time will tell, as they strive to prevent the coming of...

The Scarlet Dawn

Featured only on Frost is the New Black, from November 1-30

Wimzig's Whimsy: A Different Kind of Debate (Part II)

((The Canadian Election draws to a close today, and the Polls have been open since this morning. I shall uphold my civic responsibilities and vote at the Catholic school down the street from my house. Makes me wonder which party Rip and Matt are voting for, if at all.

In the spirit of politics, therefore, here is the second part of my neat little roleplay debate between Leyola Swiftwillow and Wimzig Wintersprug. Part 1 can be found here.))

Krizzlybear: Welcome back to part 2 of our debate between RP alts! We have Leyola Swiftwillow and Wimzig Wintersprug in our presence today to debate the merits of their existence in my stable of active alts. My time is limited, and I need to decide on a hierarchy of playing time between alts, especially with the looming addition of a Frost-specced Death Knight to the ranks.

Wimzig: Speaking of active alts and limited playtime, you seem to be hiding the fact that you've started another alt, Mr. Kriz.

Kriz: *chuckles nervously* Yeah. I'll admit it. I started a Paladin on US Bleeding Hollow.

Leyola: Such blasphemy! Here you are, torn between the two of us, and the only way you could decide is to just abandon us altogether? How could you!? /disgust

Kriz: I'm sorry, Leyola and Wimzig! I've just been active on another server because I am currently spending some time with Breana's guild, just to get a sense of what it's like.

Wimzig: Breana? That Dwarf chick who apparently loves guns? I have nothing against Dwarves. They're quite kind and hospitable. Believe me, I would know! I wouldn't think Ley would take kindly to Dwarves though, or any other race for that matter...

Leyola: You are mistaken, Gnome! Unlike most of the elder Night Elves, I don't harbor any feelings of mistrust to your kind or others. In my journey, I have develloped an understanding and respect for all the different races that I met.

Kriz: So the two of you are okay with the existence of a Dranei Paladin in our stable of alts?

Leyola: No. I still don't forgive you for doing that.

Wimzig: Unlikely. Religion just ain't my thing, buddy!

Kriz: Well, fret not, the two of you. Kryz, the Paladin is merely a placeholder member for Bre's guild. If things keep going along nicely, I will either put the Death Knight in there, or server transfer Leyola and Bashertin, all made possible with allowable PvE to PvP transfers.

Wimzig: I for one welcome our player-killing overlords.

Leyola: If that's what the master wants, then I won't object.

Kriz: Well, I'm glad we settled that matter. But either way, the two of you are still going to compete for playing time. Continuing our little debate, please tell the readers and I what you plan on doing for patch 3.0.

Wimzig: Have you visited Stormwind Harbor yet? My goodness, that place is an architectural wonder! I'm quite sure that there will be people there "looking for contact" who I can talk to.

Kriz: Indeed. There's potential encounters abound wherever new content is added, particularly in regards to capital cities and towns. Leyola?

Leyola: I think I will remain specialized in Restoration spells. I look forward to being able to cast Healing touch while in my Tree of Life state, amongst others. This will definitely be an exciting learning experience.

Kriz: Well, I'm looking forward to both of those things that the two of you mentioned. It certainly makes my decision even more difficult. I could always just split the time between the two of you more evenly.

Wimzig: If you analyze the situation, you can certainly conclude that there is a niche for all of us. If you want to DPS, Bashertin is your guy. If you want to heal, Leyola is the lady for the job. If you want to tank it out, Mr. Gnomish Death Knight will provide his services when the time comes. I'm always good to experience Azeroth through characterized interaction with its numerous denizens.

Leyola: That's a good point, Wimzig. You are actually quite smart for a gnome.

Kriz: Do my eyes deceive me? My toons are actually getting along?

Leyola: Well, at first, it seemed to me that Wimzig was the kind of person who wouldn't interest me. He's a little too different from me for my liking. But I suppose if given certain situations, that sentiment could disappear quickly over time.

Wimzig: As they say, Krizzlybear, opposites do attract! I learned that from observing others. If anything, Ley and I would make quite a team! We could go around solving mysteries and stuff! It would make for an awesome novel!

Kriz: omg...

Leyola & Wimzig: ...what?

Kriz: ...BEST IDEA EVER! HOLY CRAP GUYS! HOW DID I NOT THINK OF THIS BEFORE! THANK YOU SO MUCH!

*Hugs the both of them*

You know what!? Forget about playtime and stuff! You two will be just fine! BUAH HAHAHA! *runs off to plan out his NaNoWriMo*

((LOL! OMG, I just realized what I am going to do for NaNoWriMo! I'm gonna write a story that takes place in the Warcraft universe, and use the two of them as main characters! Seriously, I JUST thought of this as I wrote the post, so I'm actually super excited! I'll see y'all again soon!))