Chapter Two: Scouts

Kelan Usher sighed, leaning against the side of the gate he was meant to be guarding, glancing back at the small town of Southshore through the pallisade, he shook his head. If the Scourge were to ever actually strike this far south, two guards and a fence made of logs were hardly going to stop them.

"Don't be so negative," a voice snapped Kelan out of his train of thought, and it was only when he looked back at his fellow guard, dressed similar to him in leather scales and a loose blue tunic, that he realized he'd been thinking aloud. "If the Scourge were to make it this far south, we'd have time to notify Stormwind and get reinforcements."

"By your logic, Lordaeron had plenty of time to defend itself when Arthas turned," Kelan just shook his head, "face it, Hector... we're doomed."

"Besides, we've got more to worry about from the Syndicate than the Scourge. The Forsaken keep the Scourge pretty well at bay, although having them as a line of defense is like saying you're glad to have a maddened orc between you and a demon... one way or the other, one of them is going to cut you down." He sighed, "And then, of course, there's those wolf creatures in Shadowfang... we sent that group of three off to take care of that problem, what, two months ago and they still haven't made it back?"

Kelan snorted as a means of response as he took a glance up at the sliver of a moon that hovered over their head, trying not to think about such things. This, of course, was brought to and end quickly, as were most of the more pleasant moments in his life, when Hector nudged his shoulder, pointing towards a nearby bush.

"I thought I saw something move over there," he whispered.

"It's probably just a rabbit... or a couple of lovers who sneaked out past curfew for a bit of excitement. I'd not worry about it," was Kelan's reply, but his fellow guard was already creeping up on the bush, drawing his broadsword.

"Come on out of there now," he ordered, "come out or I start swinging!" His voice cracked a bit, the conversation of the night having already started wearing on his nerves. Moments later, a rabbit emerged from the bush, looking up at him curiously, its nose wiggling, before hopping off.

"Well, you sure showed him," Kelan smirked, "that rabbit looked like a killer... menace to the whole town."

"You're the one who made me paranoid with all this talk of the Scourge and such," he began to step back towards his post, Kelan turning away a moment to hide a few more snickers, "again, like I said, we've nothing to worry about from the undea---" Hector's speech was cut off by a horrific wet crunch. Kelan whirled about to see his companion drop to the ground, blood gushing from the great hole where his throat had once been, a twisted mockery of a human being standing over him, violet orbs glowing in sockets where eyes normally would be. The creature studied the blood and gore dripping from its clawed fingers with some interest before turning its eyes to Kelan, a long tongue protruding from its mouth, licking its lips hungrily.

"Un... un... Undead!" Kelan shrieked, grasping blindly for the alarm bell, getting three good pulls on it, the sharp clanging sound echoing through Southshore's streets. The creature lunged at him, moving more quickly than any undead Kelan had ever heard of him, and the last thing the guard heard that night was the shouts of the villagers behind him, followed by the squelch of the ghoul ripping through his flesh with its claws, tearing his innards to shreds with one mighty swipe.

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Shendaris Dawnlighter crouched low on the tree branch she was perched in, watching the road below her. The Scarlets should have been here by now, she thought to herself, a grimace crossing her lips. She looked about, sniffing the air, which reeked of decay, as it did everywhere in the Tirisfal Glades, home of a good portion of the Undead, Forsaken and Scourge alike. The elven ranger kept the arrow ready in her bow, just in case she spotted anyone else unwelcome in her forest. She smiled to herself, her forest, sometimes she really thought of it that way. She was the only remaining ranger who guarded it, much less guarded it with the fervor and love she had for it. She had made her home here before the Scourge invasion, helping safeguard the human populace. Apparently she had failed them, she thought, chastising herself, though she knew just as well as anyone that there was nothing anyone could have done. She pulled her cloak up tighter around her face, more to obscure her figure in the tree than to protect her from the elements. It was then that she heard a few snaps of twigs nearby. Her head turned quickly to spot a pair of zombies wandering near the road, heading towards Silverpine Forest.

"Odd..." she intoned, sniffing the air again, "don't smell like Scourge..." she dropped from her tree with feline grace, landing in a crouch. She looked at the indentations the undead had left in the grass, plucking up a piece of the gray foliage and sniffing it, "definitely not the same magic." She began to follow the tracks before her, deciding that the Scarlets could wait to face judgement til another day. After about an hour of tracking, she found herself in Silverpine, near the road leading to Shadowfang Keep, which she could see in the distance, flashes of deep violet arcane energy emitting from one of the windows. The ranger grimaced, deciding to carry on and investigate. It was, after all, her forest.

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Many hours later, Shendaris found herself running at top speed back towards Tirisfal Glades, quite sure that she was being followed. So, a necromancer had taken over Arugal's old keep, she grimaced, unsure whether that was better or worse than the mad mage who'd created the bizarre lycanthropes who had prowled Silverpine so heavily up until recently. The only thing she knew was that she had to let someone know, before innocent lives were in danger.