Brothers | By : Koori Category: +S through Z > World of Warcraft Views: 1830 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own World of Warcraft, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
Author's Note: This tale will not possess yaoi/slash sex scenes (which was harder than it should have been to leave out) but if you are totally homophobia I would probably avoid reading it.
I was once asked where I got my time-line, mostly patched together from wowwiki time-line page which has a dozen different time-lines ... in hindsight I probably shouldn't have been so exact with the years. Just wanted to show where the world was as the boys aged, hopefully the true historians won't be totally put off if I'm off by a year or two on events. This tale is/was published on another site, moving it here for content purposes. Not sure how to thank reviewers individually so will have to do a blanket thank you for those I’ve gotten! “Brothers” is probably the best story I’ve written thus far, so happy others are enjoying it. The next Brothers tale is nearing completion :)Darrowmere Forest was beautiful and brimming with farms and small villages. The regional government was centered on the city of Stratholme, the largest city in Lordaeron. It is this peaceful land where our story begins.
In year 593 of the King's Calendar – Eager to conquer a new world and aided by corrupted Alliance magi, the orcs attack. The First War begins Chapter One - Thomas Conway, Age 25 Whistling to himself, Thomas Conway followed the road north from Andorhal. The wheat from his fields had sold well. Talk around town was that of a war further to the south. The younger men seemed excited about it and spoke of offering their swords to the cause. Though well trained with a blade, Thomas was more suited to lending his back to the war. Growing food for the troops and it didn't hurt his pocketbook either. The money belt wrapped around his waist, hidden under his shirt was heavy with coin. With a slight twitch of the wrist the horse that was pulling his wagon turned east and toward home. With any luck he would be back home before nightfall. As he neared the bridge to cross Thondroril River he saw a group of people off in the distances at the edge of the wood. It seemed to scuffle of some sort. Thomas pulled his hat lower and continued down the road. He may only be twenty-five years old but he'd learned long ago to keep his nose in his own affairs. That was until he heard the scream, a very feminine shriek … and one that was more than fear. The large black dog that had been resting in the back of the empty wagon lifted his head. With a soft tug at the reins the horse stopped and Thomas leapt down. "Come on, Wags," he said. The canine, which was more wolf than hound, followed Tom as he walked purposely toward the small crowd. There were three men standing and another kneeling on the ground over a fifth One of those on their feet saw him approaching. The man looked old enough to be Thomas's father if he had still been alive. "Go away, pup, this isn't …" There wasn't a chance to finish speaking as Thomas reached out and grabbed the man unexpectedly behind the neck and jerked him down, slamming his knee into the drunken head with a sickening crunch. As the guy collapsed his face a bloody mess from his broken nose, Thomas was already advancing on the second man. To the third he gave growling beast at his side a command, "take him down, Wags." There was an ebony flash as the dog sprung. Both by luck or stupidity on their part the men were unarmed and Thomas dispatched the second one as easily as the first. As the final man struggled to stand his pants around his ankles, Tom noticed a bloody knife clenched in his hand. Neither Tom nor his dog had been scratched, that only left … moving with speed unseen by most farmers Thomas disarmed the rapist and buried the blade into the neck of its owner. As the dying man gasped his last breath Tom pushed him aside and knelt down. "You killed Frank!" Thomas glanced over his shoulder at the man that cowered under the snarling fangs of Wags; the others were either unconscious or dead. Thomas growled, "My wolf will do the same to you if you don't shut the hell up." Turning back to the still form on the ground Thomas turned her gingerly over. He gasped, the woman wasn't human. One of her long elegant ears had been butchered with the blade. Her robe was in tattered and her left breast was bare with a deep cut that spurt crimson every time she took a breath. However, what caused him to whisper the word "kill" and the dog behind him to finish off the final man was the very pregnant belly that had a crimson hand print on the top. Tearing off his shirt he pressed it against the wound, trying to stop the blood. "Light give me strength," he whispered. "Please …" Thomas looked into the pain filled eyes, the color of sapphires, of the elf dying before him. "Hold on ma'am, please …" He looked around frantically; there wasn't a soul within sight. "Please … save him…" Cold fingers of death wrapped around his wrist, leaving a scarlet bloody bracelet. She moved his hand and placed it on top of the handprint on her belly. He felt the life within kick. The hand that held his went limp as the elf breathed her last. Looking up Thomas whispered a prayer for her soul to whatever god she served as he felt another strike on his hand, resting on her belly. The babe was still alive but would not be much longer. Reaching over he pulled the blade out of the neck of the dead man. There was no more time for questions or misgivings. Taking a breath, to calm himself, he used the knife on the cooling body in front of him. As blood coated his hands he reached inside and pulled out the small form. Relieved to feel the baby move in his hands but the cry it made sounded gargled. What had given the infant warmth and safety a moment ago was now threatening to suffocate his tiny lungs. Birth was not a new experience for Thomas, he had aided in many around his farm not only animals but his son's a couple years ago and his daughter only last month. Lacking a syringe to clean the baby's airways, Thomas covered the tiny mouth and nose with his own mouth and inhaled. He spit the warm liquid out and did it twice more before the baby let out a healthy and clear sounding scream. Cradling the baby in one hand, he quickly used his handkerchief to tie off the umbilical cord and then with the blade separated son from mother. The baby wailed as Thomas nestled him against his bare chest, his bloody shirt lay useless on the ground. "Shh …" Tom rocked the infant as he looked around. There were at least three corpses at his feet; the other two men were unmoving. He had no regrets in the killings he carried out, to attack a woman made a man dirt, to attack one carrying a life … even if the woman wasn't human, there was no second chances in Thomas's eyes. Walking back to his wagon he set the crying baby down in the blankets that Wags usually rested on. Then taking the shovel from the side of the cart he walked back. "I'm sure you have a family looking for you and I wish I had the means to return you to them," he told the dead mother as he started to dig. "However, I can't show up in Darrowshire with a dead woman. Even if they believed the events I told, chances are I wouldn't get an option to tell them before I found my neck in a noose. I'll do right for you, my lady. I'll find a safe haven for your baby." He continued to ramble as he dug, the other two men still hadn't moved and getting caught with five corpses would not end well. However, he refused to leave the woman to the wolves. Soon the grave was deep enough. Thomas gently inspected the body hoping to find something that would lead him to the elf maiden's family. But there was nothing, no jewelry, nor purse … just her tattered robe. With a sigh he moved her to the hollow and set her down. He whispered a prayer and then quickly buried her. His final act was to cover the grave with as many river rocks as he had strength to carry. Hopefully the wolves would take the ready meat lying around and leave her in peace. As he went to return to his wagon a thought struck him and he did a quick search of the men he and Wags had killed. He left the coins he found but did find a small gold ring that would have been an ill fit for any of the men here. "Perhaps to the elves this will have more meaning … if it was hers at all." Returning to his wagon he glanced in the back to find the baby had cried himself to sleep and Wags nestled in close. Climbing up in the seat, Thomas picked up the reins and looked back the way he had come. The undergrowth hid the bodies, hopefully before the carrion birds drew the attention of travelers they and the other beasts of the forest would hide what happen this day. "Well, we won't get home before dark," Tom said as he flicked the reins and the horse started to move. 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