Be Kind To Those Less Fortunate 1
Disclaimer: The Warcraft universe is a creation of Blizzard Entertainment, not me. I intend not to, nor am I making, any money from this work
Some rights reserved. This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 3.0 License. Summary: A draenei paladin traveling through Northrend comes across a tauren shaman in trouble with the scourge. Sorry about the shortness of this piece. I intend to continue the story, however I am just not feeling up to it at the moment, nor is my descriptive ability up to the standard I would expect from myself. If anyone wants to help me write this, or if someone wants to take the premise and build upon the story, be my guest, the license above spells out the details. UPDATE (30/06/09) -- Spelling, grammar, and a few other tweaks.
UPDATE (11/12/09) -- Revised the story, adding in new content. Be Kind To Those Less Fortunate
Cold. That was the thought that floated through the draenei's mind. It was cold. His race were known to be resilient, especially in extreme climates, however with temperatures far below freezing even the strongest draenei would begin feeling the cold. Shivering slightly, the paladin gently prodded his equine mount to pick up the pace. For the past few days the draenei had been travelling through Northrend, alternating between ground and air, searching. His thoughts turned inward, recalling why he was on this frigid continent of Azeroth, far from his home. His profession called for raw materials, and these materials could only be collected here. He needed gold, and crafting armour and weapons for others was the only way he could make said gold. During his travels through Northrend he had encountered various elementals of fire, earth, and shadow. These aggressive beings were not willing to be reasonable and share their wealth, on the contrary, they attacked any and all who would dare come too close to them. The paladin needed the crystals that formed a part of their being, and while it was possible for elementals to give up a part of themselves to others, these creatures were hostile to all and no bargain could be made. He had gathered many such crystals from these beings, having dispatched them to do so, and together they formed eternals, a crystal that was necessary to craft the items his customers wanted. However, the material the draenei sought most was titanium, a rare ore that was harder to come by than any other. Titanium was important in that when smelted with eternals of fire, earth, and shadow, it formed a substance known as titansteel, a material that crafted the greatest of armour and weaponry. Strong and powerful, the items made from it were highly sought after and sold for quite a high price. The armour the paladin wore had been crafted by himself, with his blade crafted after a long and tiring quest not long ago. Over the sound of hooves on frozen ground, the draenei heard something that shook him from his reverie and filled him with foreboding: battle. Not wasting any time, he urged his companion into a gallop. Racing past the snow-covered trees, the paladin came upon a clearing filled with undead. In the middle of the fray stood a solitary figure, conjuring spells and flinging them at the scourge in what appeared to be a desperate attempt to keep them at bay. Jumping down from his horse, the paladin raced forward, his large two-handed sword held high. He met the undead warriors head on, slicing them with his sword, smashing them aside with his armoured body, and burning them with the purity of the Light. The mindless undead were slow to recognise the new threat, thus the draenei was able to leave a sizable dent in their number. Many began to come after him, their rotting flesh no match for the might of a paladin with the Light on his side. The draenei vanquished many of the scourge, and sensing that
they were dealing with a greater threat, the mass of undead turned their attention to a new prey. The paladin was suddenly swamped with enemies. Not discouraged, the paladin used this to his advantage, calling on the Light to consecrate the ground beneath him over and over. The undead began dropping to the frozen earth without even having a chance to flay their limbs at the living intruder. Realising this, the scourge began to flee in a panic. One of the scourge did not run. This brute appeared to be the leader of the rabble, and its mind was greater than that of its fellows. The death knight, formally a human, sneered at the draenei before lashing out with his axe. The paladin jumped back, barely missing the swipe. The undead knight cast a spell of dark energy and propelled it at the draenei, its green light aimed at his heart. Quickly shifting one hand from his sword, the paladin reached out and a split second before the bolt could hit, a near-invisible barrier formed that reflected the blast. Outraged, the death knight rushed forward to engage the draenei, however even with the unholy energy giving the undead greater strength than any other human, he was no match for the larger and more powerful draenei. After engaging blows several times, the death knight soon realised he was at a disadvantage, barely escaping a lethal blow each time. Finally, with a quick move, the paladin's sword moved past the death knight's defences and sliced through his neck, separating the undead's head from his body. The lifeless body fell to the ground, its head not far away, a look of surprise clearly visible through the dark helm. The draenei turned his attention to the one he had set out to rescue. Not immediately seeing anyone, the paladin quickly checked the ground, and sure enough, lying amongst the rotting corpses not far from where he was standing was the body of a tauren. The draenei ran to the tauren's side and knelt to the ground, placing his hands on the shaman's chest, and poured the healing power of the Light into the tauren. The paladin was trained not only in the ways of channelling the Light to do damage, but also in the ways of healing also. As such, the wounds that covered the shaman's body began to close, and there was a sudden intake of breath into the bull's mouth, however the tauren still remained unconscious. Puzzled, the draenei attempted to rouse the shaman, shaking him slightly. It was then that the paladin noticed that one of the wounds at the tauren's side had not healed, and was still bleeding. Upon closer inspection, the draenei recognised the foul stench of the scourge. Whatever infection the bull had suffered, the paladin did not have to power to help him. Thinking quickly, the draenei stood and dismissed his mount, the mystical horse fading into a silvery mist, and immediately began summoning another. In a matter of seconds a large cobalt netherdrake appeared as if out of nowhere, it's large scaled body
surrounded by the energies of the Twisting Nether. The drake, quickly understanding the situation, lowered itself close to the ground, making it easier for the paladin as he carefully dragged the wounded tauren across the icy ground and onto the back of the winged creature. Moving a heavy being such as a tauren was no easy task, however the draenei was stronger than most, having developed his muscular body from years of hard work smithing and fighting. "Jorus" said the draenei, calling his drake companion by name, as his arms bulged from lifting the shaman onto the drake's back. "We need to get to Dalaran." The netherdrake nodded as his rider climbed on his back, the paladin settling behind his injured charge. Quickly weaving his thick arms around the tauren's waist and gripping the saddle with both hands, the drake sent up a swirl of snow as his wings flapped and lifted them off the ground. Rising through the tops of the trees, the draenei witnessed the undead soldiers scurrying through the brush, flinching and covering their heads as the drake let loose a tremendous roar. -- Noise. All the paladin could hear was the noise of the netherdrakes wings and the wind in his pointed blue ears. Resting heavily on his armoured torso was the wounded shaman, the dark fur of the tauren flowing back and forth in the rapidly shifting air. Leaning forward, his bare chin almost touching the bulls left unarmoured shoulder, the draenei listened for the sound of the taurens breathing. Sighing in relief upon hearing the sign of life, the paladin carefully lifted his left plate-covered hand from the saddle and placed it on the shamans side, covering the gaping wound that stunk of undeath. Closing his glowing blue eyes, the paladin called on the Light, its healing power flowing from his hand and into the taurens wound. Yet again, the wound failed to close, however the flow of blood lessened, and the awful stench abated a fraction. Satisfied that he was slowing the pace of the poison, the draenei once again found his attention on the taurens breathing, which was slightly stronger, sounding less like a desperate wheeze and more like the shallow breaths of someone sleeping. The growl of his netherdrake companion drew his attention away from the injured bull, looking up and around the large bulk of the shaman to see the floating city of Dalaran steadily growing larger as they approached, its many towers scraping the clouded sky. Seeing the city again reminded the draenei of why the magical place was there. Dalaran had recently been moved by magical means from its original home in the Alterac Mountains of Azeroth's eastern continent of Lordaeron, to its new home above the Crystalsong Forest of Northrend. The reasons for the move were many, however the main one was that the blue dragonflight was threatening all magic users, and as a city of magicians, Dalaran needed to be on the front line. In addition, the Kirin Tor, the
organisation that held the city, had proclaimed Dalaran neutral ground, and as such it was open to all those that would accept their sanctuary in exchange for doing no harm to bitter enemies while inside its walls. It was for this reason that the draenei was taking the injured tauren to Dalaran: there was no other way he could seek help without been turned away or attacked. Snapping out of his thoughts, the paladin noticed that the forest they flew over was made entirely out of crystal. Everything was made of crystal, and it had been that way ever since a great battle between dragons had been fought long ago. Every time the paladin and his netherdrake friend came through here they could hear the sound of the crystals singing. As they neared the floating city, Krasus' Landing came into view. This place was the designated area where winged creatures could come and go, and had been named after one of the greatest dragons of the red dragonflight. With as much care as possible, the drake touched down on the landing. The paladin slowly dismounted, keeping one hand on the tauren to hold him steady. Upon seeing the injured tauren, a contingent of Horde soldiers came rushing forward, their weapons remaining sheathed due to the sanctuary granted them by the Kirin Tor. "He has been infected with a rare strain of the plague," the draenei spoke to them in fluent Orcish. "Is there a healer among you?" Most of the Horde soldiers were taken aback by the draenei speaking their common tongue, however among the rabble of orcs, trolls, and sindorei, a lone tauren stepped forward, seemingly unsurprised by the paladins ability. "I'm a druid," said the grey-furred bull. "I might be able to help." With the aid of the some extra muscle, the task of lifting the injured tauren off the back of the netherdrake was made a whole lot quicker. Upon gently placing the shaman on the ground, the druid set about examining the wound on his brethrens side. "You tried using the Light to cure him?" the tauren asked. "That's right, I managed to heal everything else except for this wound," replied the draenei, kneeling to the side of the druid. The bull nodded in understanding, his three-fingered hand gently prodding the infected wound. Upon doing so he immediately withdrew his hand, sensing the evil that lurked within the flesh. Blood was now oozing much quicker from the gash in the injured tauren's side. "I cannot help him here, but with some help from the healers of Dalaran we can save his life," explained the druid. "You did well keeping him alive. We can take it from here." Two heavy-set green-skinned orcs stepped forward, crouched down, and carefully lifted the unconscious shaman, then proceeded to carry him off into the city. Upon standing, the tauren druid appeared to consider something before turning to the draenei paladin. "If you would like to check on his progress, you are more than welcome. We will be in the house of healing closest to the landing." "Thank you," replied the draenei, watching the tauren walk away.