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The Dish Revenge

By: Alex Ritter aka RedStarAce

As the lazy sun begins to set, its warming rays begin to bath the skies in reds and brilliant streaks of gold. The clouds drifting slowly only adding the beauty of the skies. The earth below these skies however, seems to blur into the scarlet and reds of the heavens above. Bodies lay strewn across a vast once lush field; many of those that lay across the trampled grain groan in agony, and beg for relief from their mortal suffering. Orcs, tauren, trolls, and other races of the Horde lay beaten, broken, and dieing next to the Humans, gnomes, dwarfs, and the races of the Alliance.

Two combatants yet stand however, among the darkening field of death and suffering their steel and wills continue to clash. An exhausted worgen hunter, reduced to wielding a fallen warrior's sword finds himself facing an equally tired and drained blood elf paladin. With a strain cry the paladin raises his large two-handed elven steel war-hammer and brings it down at the lupine humanoid. The paladin drained and all but broken in will and spirit easily misses the worgen's kick with its left leg; while the beast's sword arches up and deflects the blow away. The elven warrior stumbles backwards; his breath ragged, more so than the hunter's. The two stare at the other once more. Before with a dry cough the paladin mutters coldly "So...this is how it will be?" the paladin looks around lazily for a moment seeing so many of the dead and dieing. His heart aches to ease their suffering if only to grant them their deserved peace and eternal rest. The worgen merely flicks an ear at the comment before he sighs; changing his stance bring the sword to be held in two claw hands instead of held in one.

"It is how it is father." The paladin looks to the worgen; a look of absolute sadness painted across his face. "So you finally have a voice now?" The worgen gives a small dark chuckle as he starts to circle the blood elf. "I've always had a voice. You just never listened. How could you if you kept running away from family?" The paladin lunges at the worgen the pained look on his face flashing over to one of uncontrolled fury. "I NEVER RAN FROM MY FAMILY!!" The paladin spat. His attack clumsy due to his exhaustion, allowing the worgen to easily dodge and deflect the attack. The beast attacking back with a sharp side kick to the warrior's exposed side and earns a pained cry from the attack. The paladin slumps to his knees and looks to the beast with disgust. "Tell me how did you survive?! TELL ME!" the elf snaps at the beast; to which the worgen simple shrugs. "Funny story about how that played out. It began the day you left...oh so long ago."

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"Mom where did Dad go?" A young half-elf asks as he walks up to his human mother, he features showing her age but still holding the beauty that had surly ensnared young hearts before his father's. She sighs as she looks out the window towards the main road leading north from the village. "He is a warrior and a member of the army of Quel'Thalas, Quine he will be back I'm sure in a few days." The young boy sighs looking down to his small boots for a moment before shaking his head and running out of the house. His mother watches from a window a sad look on her face. She watches until her eyes turn towards the dark clouds approaching from the south.

A short distance from the Village of Valkrian, Qunie angrily tosses some stones into a river. He hard heard his dad argue with his mother the night before; and hearing what he said to his grandfather and uncle that morning only added to his anger and depression. His father's words ringing in his ears "They would only be a hindrance Mariel! We need speed if we are to make a difference!" Were they really just a hindrance to the elven warrior? he wondered this as he continued to toss stones into the clear blue water. That is until it turns red, as he turns to look down the river he comes to see the approaching clouds; and now the rising smoke and glow of fires, in the direction of home. He raced home only to find horror unlike anything he had ever seen, heard, or dreamed he would see before. So he ran, he ran and hid, and once darkness had truly fallen, he ran once more even deeper into the forest.

The clouds opened up with a heavy down pour; the rain cold and sharp. The sting kept him awake and helped him keep going. He ran as fast as his legs would go, he had to; if he fell or slowed down they would catch him. He would die, just like the others and then be brought back to serve. He would not let that happen to himself, he had promised to his mother he would survive. He ran a little faster as the image of what the undead had done to his home of Valkrian. In the distance he could still hear the drums of the undead army. Further he could just faintly still hear the cries of the gargoyles and some of the other monsters in their ranks. All of a sudden a new sound ripped across the evening skies, a howl that made the blood run cold. The young half-elf stopped dead in his tracks looking around in panic; another howl this time closer. Was it to the north? He glances around frantically; his hands drawing his one remaining weapon a simple elven short sword.

Another howl soon followed by others; they were even closer now. Panic began to grip the young boy again, until it became absolute terror when a sharp shriek announced the arrival of undead gargoyles right above him; the whoosh of the wind and their wings falling down on the boy from above. He turns in time to see one with its talons outstretched to claim his life all but atop him. With a furious roar a furred form explodes from the darkness and tackles the lead gargoyle to the forest floor, its shrieks are silenced with a sickening snap and crunch. The furred form rises from four legs to two and utters the same howl that had frighten the boy earlier. Above the storm clouds began to part and the light of the twin moons revealed that which had hidden in the shadows and darkness. The creatures were like wolves, but they stood on two legs as easily as on all fours. Their muzzles held vicious fangs and teeth, while their hands ended in murderous claws. These were unlike any monster he had seen before. The boy suddenly snapped out of his trance as the largest of the beasts wearing a heavy weathered cloak raised its head and howled louder than any before.

The boy quickly ducked and hid under a fallen tree as the beasts began to fight with the gargoyles and soon with the scourge that had been following them. The battle was horrific to behold as the beast ripped the undead to pieces. It was gory as entrails, flesh, blood and bone were sent scattering about the forest floor and splashed onto the trunks of trees. It was sickening as some of the beast bit heads off and others crushed of chunks of the larger undead abominations. It was then he saw it; the undead necromancer that had lead the attack on his village, the one who killed his mother. That was when he saw her, she was fighting the cloaked beast and was pushing him back. For all of the creatures fury and strength her agility and deathly control easily allowed her to walk rings about his slashing claws and snapping jaws. As he watched her he realized she had a smile on her face. 'Was she enjoying this violence? She couldn't she would enjoy meaningless violence!' he thought. After a short moment he looked away before he stifled a sob in his throat. She wasn't his mother, she was just some undead wearing her face. That's what it was he told himself. With a glance back he saw the beast on its back being held down by two abominations as she moved in for the kill. Without realizing it the young boy rushed from his hiding place; as fast and as quietly as he had been taught and before she or anyone knew what happened there was a clash between steel and soft flesh and bone. Slowly the undead human women turned her body to see the boy; her boy standing there drawing his short sword back close to him. A soft smile crossed her lips, just as her severed head fell from her shoulders. It and her body fall to the forest floor with a soft thud.

Staring at the body the boy feels wetness on his face but all he can feel is a fire as if his body was caught in a casters fire spell. It was surging from deep within and soon he screamed as loud as his lungs and voice would allow and in a blind fury surged at one of the abomination which stared dumbfounded at the boy's charge. It reacts to slowly to stop its own head from being severed, and as it slumps lifelessly to the ground the boys fury turns onto the next be finds it being dealt with by the cloaked beast. He looks around, the others of its kind are dealing with the gargoyles and ghouls; where was the necromancer? He blinked as he spotted him and against all better judgment ran past combating forces and raced towards the monster. The caster to busy trying to keep the feral lupine beasts at bay fails to notice the boy's advance and screams in agony as he feels steel pierce his chest, again and again the boy stabs at the caster. The body falling with him still lashing at it to the forest floor, his sword continues to strike at the body. His anger, his hate, his sadness, and his fear all pour into his mutilation of the body.

Until a strong hand grasp his arms and a deep voice pierces his suffering. "It is done child, it is done." The boy turns to find the furred beast holding his arms up firmly yet gently at the same time. The claws resting on his flesh and yet not cutting him. The beast eyes burn with a fury; and yet beneath them he sees...compassion. The boy lets go of the bloody sword and begins to sob uncontrollable. The boy lunges at the creature and clings to its chest as he weeps. The creature for all of its vicious appearance tenderly cuddles the boy and gently lifts him up. "Welcome home little one. Welcome to your new family. I am Alpha Prime, I am now your Alpha." The boy only cries his suffering out as he continues to hug onto the furred frame as he feels himself taken away from the fear and cold world of death.

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The worgen gives a small sigh as he once more looks down on the paladin who slowly moves to stand. "That's how I survived. I found a new home, a new family, a new life." The worgen growls as the paladins glares at him. "So you became a worgen, joined the alliance, and now fight against your own father and people?" The paladin clenches his hammer tightly before he moves attack again, the blow once more clumsy and easily deflected by the hunter. He after the deflection weaves to the side and slashes the sword along the paladin's back; drawing a strangled cry of pain from the blood elf as he falls once more to the ground. A deep red gash begins to weep blood onto the paladin's armor and the already bloody soil beneath him. "The blood elves are not my people. Hell even humans are not my people." The worgen frowns looking around the field. He spots her as she tries to attack him with her two short swords. Stepping to the side the worgen kicks the forsaken hunter in the back sending her to land on top of the paladin.

A look of absolute disgust crossing the worgen's muzzle. "I was starting to think my nose had lied to me." The undead hunter slowly moves and turns to help the paladin to sit on his knees. The two face the worgen he continues to look down on them. "What will you do now then Qunie, my son?" The forsaken female ask, as she hugs the paladin protectively. The worgen cocks his head to the left for a second before he utters a sharp howl to the heavens; when it ends a series of roars and other calls answer in return. "Mother, you are guilty for crimes against the people of Gilneas and the worgen alike. Father, you are guilty of abandoning our family and home, and like wise also committing crimes against the worgen." The worgen's muzzle begins to slip back into a dark fang filled grin.

The two horde blink as they see forms starting to approach in the darkness, they both realize they can only see where the worgen is because of his glowing emerald eyes. "I am a beastmaster mother, and I am also a worgen of the Alliance. You two even if your my parents by blood are still my enemies by facts and by your people's actions. For all that you and your kind have done I will now adhere to the advice my pack father, my Alpha taught me. Revenge is best savored and allowed to ripen with age. For two years I've planned for this moment, and now I will have my dish." The paladin starting to feel the fear in his heart rise summons what little strength he has left into his hammer which flashes into a brilliant star of light in the darkness.

What he and his undead wife see is one of absolute horror. Standing next to their son; his animal companions have returned from their scavenging of the battlefield at his call. The worgen chuckles darkly as he gently scratches the horns on a black warp stalker. "WAIT WHAT CRIMES HAVE WE COMMITTED TO WARRANT THIS!?" the forsaken women screams out as the beast hiss and growl at them. "YES WHAT HAVE WE DONE TO WARRANT THIS FROM OUR OWN SON!?" The worgen glares at them before he snaps back "YOU DESTROYED THE NEW LIFE I HAD STARTED!"

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"Qunie love your dreaming again." The worgen blinks looking up to find a handsome young night elf male standing in front of him. The young elf chuckles softly as the worgen just gets a silly grin on his face. "if you keep grinning like that your face will stick like that someday." The elf jokes as the worgen suddenly reaches up and brings him down into his lap. "I'm sure there are worse and maybe better things that can get stuck." The worgen smiles leaning in to gently lick at the elf's neck earning him a soft moan from the young male. "So what brings you to my part of town Mardant?" The elf slowly rearranging himself to be sitting against the worgen in his lap. The beast only chuckles softly hugging his mate close to his chest.

The night elf sighs before he begins to speak "Orders came in today. I am being sent to help with the recovering and resettling of the plaguelands." The worgen's ears fall flat against his skull as he looks down to the elf. "How soon till you have to ship out?" The worgen asks. "I've got three days to pack and be ready at the tram." The worgen nods and looks out at the lake near the main keep of Stormwind City. The worgen had arrived in the city a year ago and had quickly found a place in the city and in the world in general. He was one of the newest ambassadors between the members of the alliance and the neutral races of the world. It was during his trip with some of the Gilneans at the time of their readmission to the Alliance that Qunie had first met Mardant a night elf druid. The elf looked up to the worgen and smiled, he gently reaches a hand up to stroke the creature's small beard. Qunie looks down to him before leaning in and sharing a kiss with his mate. "I could arrange to join you as a part of the corp to meet with the Argent Crusade." Mardant shakes his head and sighs. "No Qunie, you have your trip to Uldum in two days. You can't afford to not be there for the trade talks with the Tol'vir of Ramkahen." The elf gently cups his mate's cheek lifting the sad face to look him in the eyes. "I will be safe, I am a member of the Cenarion Circle the Horde will not attack us. We will be there to heal the land. Not fight over it." His eyes filled with fear slowly close before opening again with a love and compassion he had come to know quiet well over the course of their courtship.

Tenderly the two embrace and soon left to retire to their home.

Two days later Qunie Darkmantel leaves for Uldum aboard the Alliance Diplomatic Crop Ship "Pillar of Prosperity" and a day later he learned that Mardant was on his way north to the Western Plaguelands with others of the Cenarion Circle.

The trip to Uldum proved uneventful; and the talks with the Tol'vir went by smoothly. Qunie loved meeting different people, even more so if they weren't apart of the horde yet. It was a chance to if not subtly get them to favor the alliance to at least get them to keep a guard up when dealing with the horde. Especially with their current warchief Garrosh Hellscream. Qunie smiled, as he laughed and talked with Marrek; a friend he had made on his first adventure into Uldum. The two joked and talked about their lives; ranging from Marrek's mate's new love for Qunie's stuff flat-bread, to Mardant's enjoyment of the silks and fabrics from the Tol'vir. The two friends soon sat at one of the cities many cafes and begin a slow lunch.

Soon several other friends and fellow diplomats join the pair. Khrun Thunderbeard a dwarven diplomat along with the tauren shaman Brumm Misthorn join them along with others. Soon the impromptu party kicks off as the dwarves and some of the tol'vir tap the first full kegs of drink. Once the alcohol starts to flow, and warm food joins it in full tummies; song and laughter soon join together. Qunie couldn't help but smile, it was at places like this that such wonderful events could just happen. Where orc and human could toast a drink together without purposely coming to blows. He sighed even he found what anger he ever did have from his earlier days with the Alliance for the Horde evaporate at times like this. Suddenly a gently hand grasped his shoulder interrupting his train of thought and the conversation he had been having with a Forsaken diplomat. He turned to find a Tol'vir guard there and he hands him a sealed scroll. "I advise you read it privately sir." was all the guard said before he turned and ran to his next destination. "What is that?" The forsaken asked to which Qunie shurgs and quietly excuses himself to go read the scroll. As he moves away from the party Marrek weasels his way over to him and asks where he was going. "I got a scroll just now, apparently the guard said I should read it privately." The Tol'vir stroked his fine beard and looked curiously to the worgen. "Well I'm your friend, if you want me to let you be alone to read it I can." He smiled when the worgen chuckled shaking his head and began to unroll the scroll. He began to read it it; his face changing from one of amusement to one of shock and then to horror. "What is it?" Marrek asked, before the worgen slowly slumped to his knees his eyes filling with tears. The Tol'vir moved to his side and quickly leaned in to see what had struck the worgen so harshly. It took only a few words to bring realization to the young male. He gently wrapped his arms around the sobbing beast and cradles him tightly as the worgen broke down into deep sorrow. The scroll falling the the stone street and a small pendent falls from it.

The first words on the scroll read "Dear Qunie Darkmantel, we are sad to inform you of a skirmish that transpired in the western plaguelands." Slowly Marrek reaches down and picks up the pending thinking it belonged to the worgen's mate, but blinks as it pops open revealing a human women. 'Was his mate being unfaithful?' he wonders. The worgen suddenly stiffens, and looks at the now open pendent before reaching out and gently taking it in his claw bring it to his muzzle he sniffs at the artifact before his eyes snap in to sharp focus and his haunches rise. "Marrek, please let go of me." The worgen ask in a low voice. The Tol'vir slowly complies, as soon as he is a foot back from the worgen, Qunie leaps to his feet and roars out in barely contained fury. "Gah Qunie!? What, what is going on?" Marrek asks his ears ringing from the savage roar. The beast turns and glares at him coldly before it softens the look of sadness returning but the tears stopping. "My mate....Mardant is dead, he was killed by the horde. The found this in his hands. This...belongs to my family....it belongs to my father."

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"So you see you destroyed the life I had made. You mother are apart of the people who would use the blight as a weapon even when the orcs and Garrosh have forbidden it! You father, you disregarded the neutrality of the druids of the Cenarion Circle and murdered my beloved Mardant!" The worgen growls low as he pulls his claw away from the warp stalker which hisses at the two horde hungerly. "For all that you have done, I've planned for this moment. I've waited, and waited for this time to come. Now you two will pay for all of it."

"WE ARE YOUR PARENTS YOU CAN'T DO THIS TO US!" They shout as he motions for the beasts to attack. A dark feral grin cross his muzzle as the scream, their cries being drowned out by the sounds of his companions ripping the two horde apart. When all falls quiet again all that is left of his parents is a pile of gore and blood. "Revenge, is truly a sweet dish. Come on there is no further reason to stay in this field of the dead." The worgen mutters as he motions for the gathering of beasts to follow him back to the alliance lines.

A short time after the worgen hunter had left a figure crawls to where the forsaken women and blood elf man had been slaughtered by the hunter's pets. A young blood elf hunter grasp at the broken pended in the pile of gore. His blue eyes, so used to being stern and cold; for the first time since the night the scourge attacked his home cries tears of sadness. "Mother, Father...." he quietly cries himself to a tortured dream filled sleep until Horde healers arrive on the field to begin recovering the dead, and gather the wounded who could still be healed.