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Tales from Moon Guard: Chrysia	By : miladygrimm Category: +S through Z > World of Warcraft Views: 5666 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own World of Warcraft, WoW is the intellectual property of Blizzard. I make no money on the writing of this Fanfiction

Chapter List
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((Authors Note: This fiction is based during the Burning Crusade era of WoW. That's when I was big into it. I know things have changed. That's okay. Also, everything the characters do is not perfectly canon to the skills and spells of the characters...that's called taking creative liberty.))
Warsong Gultch:
Chrysia Arden hated being in the military. A few weeks back, when her career as an adventurer had reached a low that could only be classified as pitiful, she had signed up. The decision was made partly to carve out a name for herself, partly to expand her skills as a mage, but mostly for the gold. So far she had seen precious little of it.
In the beginning it had been Chrysia's fault. She had never known much of a militant lifestyle. Her younger years had been spent in in her birth-town of Lakeridge. She had been apprenticed to a mage of Stormwind and a great deal of her upbringing had been spent at the Mage's Tower. When she had come of age she had joined the ranks of adventurers who sought to make a difference in the world. None of these life choice had prepared her for the military. She had absolutely no idea what she was doing.
Completely new to the militant lifestyle of 'go here and kill this', Chrysia had fumbled her way through her first few attempts in battle, often causing her comrades losses that they couldn't afford. The veterans, of course, had noticed her staggering ineptitude and she was sanctimoniously lopped in with the undesirable recruits.
Which is exactly where she found herself now.
Her group was currently holed up in a fort that had already seen its fair share of war. A slap-dash building that was older than Chrysia and scarred so horribly that not a single beam of the entire thing was original. It's backside was backed up against a cliff that made it unapproachable from two directions. The other two faced the Badlands, firm territory of the Horde. Chrysia's current job, shared with her companions, was to hold down the fort and keep the supply line to Ashenvale clear.
Currently poking his way through a massive sack of parts was Onyx the back-bearded dwarf. Several half-made traps were piled around him, their wicked looking teeth offering a bit of violence to the as yet quiet morning. Onyx spent most of him time talking about his hunting conquests, both the animal and the female variety, in grand detail. He was a greedy uncouth thing
The next was Janessa, a Lady Knight and Paladin of Stormwind. Chrysia had once had high hopes of developing a friendship with the woman, till she found out that the lady was more in love with her own reflection.
Then there was Halia, Draeni priestess that refused to speak to any but her own kind.
And Caligan, a Night Elf rogue who spoke to no one at all.
Esmere, a gnomish mage who wouldn't stop talking.
But, by the the worst, was Harfort. A human warrior born and breed in Stormwind, the large bodied male had been a holdover from her first commission...and he thought that made them friends. Or at least he thought it made them friendly enough that he could, and should, tell her how she ought to be using her magic.
“Have you ever thought of studying fire magics?” he was currently asking while they kept watch. “You should. It's better against enemies. That frosty stuff you do is great when you are an adventurer trying to make it on you own but here in the military it's all about maximum damage.”
“Uh-huh,” Chrysia responded tucking a lock of russet hair back into the bun at the nape of her neck. She kept her eyes on the horizon. The scouts had said that the Horde would be coming from that direction, and soon.
“It's just that nothing does damage the way fire does. Just drives those green-skins crazy.” he bounced up and down in place, overly eager. His bright eyes flashing and she could just guess what he was imagining. He was...not alright.
“Yeah...”
“Wouldn't take too long to study. We could go back to Stormwind when this commission is up. I would love to show you.” The look he gave her said that she very well might never make it to Stormwind if she went with him.
She hated this group. If she got out of this battle alive it was going to be her last one.
“So...”
Whatever Harfort was going to say was drowned out by the sound of bone-carved hammers striking stretched leather. War drums. Nothing in all of Azeroth sounded like orcish war drums. Her stomach rolled with anxiety. It was a strange sensation. In her years as an adventuring mage she had fought in many battles and thrived on the challenge. But, here, on the edge of civilized lands, Chrysia had discovered that she could not count on her comrades.
Shadows loomed in the distance. A ribbon of terror worked its way through the gulch in the form of bloodthirsty warrior for the Horde. A single line headed towards the fort and she, for the first time in her life, felt a desire to run away.
The battle was on her before she could flee. Chrysia took a guard position near the height of the fort. She was their first line of defense. Her hands thrust out of their own accord and drew lines of ice in the ground, Walls for them to crash through, break through, and die upon. Orcs, trolls, and tauren alike crashed over shards of ice sharp enough to kill. She shot great bolts of freezing pain through the air, letting them fall where they may.
She wove into these spells her own fears and her loathing. Her broken spirit slammed into her enemies. Let them feel it...let them experience it.
A large tauren stepped forward, circled by his companions. His black fur was marked with paint in strange symbols over every visible inch of him, and there was a great deal of it. He wore very little. He wore only a short leather skirt synched into place by a beaded belt. She sent a spell towards him, but a small wooden totem at his side took the power of it. She tried to send another one, but his own magics interfered.
It wasn't until she felt the crack of wood that Chrysia understood what he was doing. She turned and launched herself just before the wooden tower cracked and exploded. The force of it sent her flying further. She stuffed her hand into her pouch and pulled out a single feather and lifted it to the air. She pulled the essence into herself, making her body lighter than it ought to have been. She touched down gently upon the ground...and right into one of Onyx's signature shark-tooth traps.
With the slowing spell still weaving through her she could do nothing but watch as the trap snapped shut on her leg. At first she felt nothing. Then hot fire blossomed in the meat of her calf and ripped through her leg. Blinded by pain she stumbled forward and tumbled over the cliff towards the forest of Ashenvale.
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Tales from Moon Guard: Chrysia