AN: Warcraft fic based on the adventures of my main character and a couple of characters I had thought of making. Granted, some of the things that happen to them are things that are not possible in the actual game but heh if it were real I'm sure it would be. Anyway hope ya'll enjoy.

Chapter one

How it all began

They were barely twenty years old when the scourge attacked, ransacking Silvermoon city and nearly killing everyone of their kind. The three of them were cast into different directions when the sunwell was destroyed. One of them died almost instantly among a crowd of undead, the other was knocked unconscious and was recovered shortly afterwards by his allies and the last was thrown into the river atop of broken piece of lumber where she floated out to seat and was carried far north. This is their story. This their tale…

Mashonin Lightstrider awoke with a start and locked eyes with the cold visage of a towering man in blue armor, he was also surrounded by corpses of both those of the Horde and the alliance with people dressed in black robes casting spells of necromancy on them.

He felt uncertainty and fear but hid it well. He couldn't remember who he was or what he was doing but he did know that he had died and that these people were responsible. As he glared hatefully at the man towering above him, silently promising his death his mind was suddenly assaulted by the whispers, tormenting and powerful, he felt his body shutter with a power he had never felt before. It felt…invigorating. His negative feelings towards the towering man vanished as his will was taken from him. And a new desire flooded his being. "I exist to serve the Lich King!" he had stated. He was rewarded with a pleased laugh from the man.

"Excellent." said the man as he bestowed upon blood elf, the armor of a death knight initiate.

"Serve well."

And he did. He spent weeks training, eliminating unworthy initiates and doing numerous small missions to further the cause of the scourge. Things had been going extremely well until he was finally dubbed well enough to leave the ebon hold and help with the assault on the Scarlet lands below.

It is not known, but Mashonin is the very first death knight to have ever broken free from the Lich King.

And it all happened while he was torturing a scarlet crusader for information about something called the crimson dawn. He'd gotten the information, but her utterly defeated look afterwards made him hesitate to end her life. The way she looked at him, her spirit completely shattered made him lower his blade and eye her with suddenly conflicting emotions.

"Do it," she muttered. "Hurry it up monster. End my life!"

When he didn't, she grew desperate, clamoring to her feet despite her broken body she lunged at him with her sword and collapsed again. "Come on! DO IT! My life has no more meaning now! And you shouldn't hesitate to kill me! I know you want to monster!"

When he still didn't act, she sneered and pulled out a dagger. "Fine then, I'll do it myself!" She pointed the blade at her own neck and tried to stab. He lunged forward and caught her wrist. He didn't know what caused him to prevent her from killing herself. These zealots were better off gone anyway. Besides he was a loyal member of the scourge. What does it matter if this woman ended her life or not?

"Let go of me heathen! Let me go!" She struggled in vain against him, forgetting her skills as a paladin as she tried to beat on his chest with her fists, her eyes filling with tears. He just stood there holding her in place as she began to sob, muttering to herself that she was no longer worthy to be alive. That she no longer had the right to look at the light and he knew why. She had betrayed her people by revealing the crimson dawn to him. She was as good as dead anyway and that made her even more distraught.

As he looked at this defeated woman, completely tuning out the lich king's demands that he kill her, he suddenly felt something within him. It swirled to life suddenly and commanded that he leave this place forever, that he take this woman and go as far away as possible. It was this feeling that made him call forth his death charger, hoist the distraught scarlet crusader onto it before mounting it himself and dashing off, past startled undead, fearful citizens of Havenshire and through the ranks of enraged Crusaders. He rode off, never looking back. His only goal now was to find himself, to locate and remember his past. His only link to his past life was a golden band with a large emerald shaped like the sun attached to it circling his upper arm. And this woman…he'd help her anyway he could…

Xxx

Masheon lighstrider never had any interest in becoming a soldier of the alliance, and once he awoke from the crisis that was the scourge invasion and the destruction of the sunwell it became even more apparent when he expressed no desire to become a soldier for his people's new allies in the Horde. He instead became a cook who never left the confines of silvermoon city. And when he wasn't cooking he could be found in the bazaar lounging about and doing nothing else with his life. He constantly thought about his siblings. The two he had lost during the invasion. He thought of them every day and cared for nothing else. He wondered constantly where they were and prayed that they were safe. His reputation grew and built up until everyone in silvermoon city knew who he was. They called him a coward and a traitor for his open displeasure with the feud between the horde and the alliance and they sometimes mocked his supposedly dead siblings, saying they would cringe in disgust at having such a weak brother. They never assaulted him though. He wasn't worth their time.

One night he had heard of a group of pilgrims headed out to Outland in search of energies that would cure his people of this thirst and reunite with the prince. He wasn't particularly a fan of Kael'thas but thought, "What the hell," and joined the next party out.

This is where everything changed forever.

He had been in Outland for barely a week before his he and the caravan he was with came under attack by demons of the burning legion. The soldiers guarding the caravan fought bravely and valiantly but they were eventually slain. He and the remaining survivors were taken away. He doesn't know where to, only that he was subjected to numerous horrifying experiments and finally forced to drink the blood of a pit lord.

His reaction was unique and severe. He transformed more radically than any other elf who had consumed the blood. His mind was virtually wiped of all its memories concerning his past life and his very soul was filled with the desire for one thing… Carnage. He became a faithful servant of the burning legion, slaying countless enemies and preventing numerous attacks on his strong hold. He rose in the ranks swiftly and gained a title all almost all demons had come to know him as. For years this went on. He had no rational thought. He was a beast consumed in instinct and bloodlust, his mind controlled by the blood flowing within him.

But then something happened. He didn't know how or why, but he suddenly found memories flooding through him, experiences had had not remembered, and a pair of familiar faces. He had collapsed right then and there and cried. For hours he cried. He lamented in his pain and suffering before he finally regained his resolve.

A servant had come in to check up on him and was split in two at the waist by a huge red scythe wielded by a vengeful man. "I'm leaving," was all that the servant heard before his world went black.

He blasted out of his stronghold, gave a mighty roar that shook the land and shot off into the air. He flew until he fell, exhausted atop a floating chunk of land in the beautiful Negrand, thoughts of his siblings haunting his dreams.

He awoke sometime later to the sounds of a woman screaming. Curious, he peered over the ledge and gasped at what he saw. Three men, blood elves were brutally attacking a…half Naga woman. She was obviously Naga because her skin was an odd yet perfect blend of blue and green and she had golden eyes. However she had four arms and a layer of green scales over her shoulders and neck. A green and yellow fin sprouted up atop her head like a Mohawk and a mass of living snakes lay limp on the left side of her head with one partially covering her left eye, making her look partially bald but exotic at the same time. She also had legs and a serpentine tail that was green in color. She was different, perhaps a naga not fully transformed by the sundering. A cage was broken nearby, suggesting that they had captured her and brought her to Negrand, Most likely all the way from Azeroth, suggesting she had been captured and sold as an exotic rare trophy by the horde. He watched as the three elves ripped off what little clothing she had on and proceeded to undress themselves, saying degrading things about her "Tainted" blood. They were just about naked when he snapped out of it and spread his massive black wings.

They never saw him coming until it was too late. His scythe tore through them with pathetic ease and drained them of their magic and their life force, leaving withered husks and clothing behind. When he was done he turned his attention to the snake woman. She was terrified, an understandable emotion. He tried to look as unthreatening as possible as he approached her. She was shaking harder than a leaf on a windy day and she had closed her eyes when he crouched down, perhaps expecting to be drained as well.

"Are you alright?"

Dispite his obviously demonic sounding voice, her eyes snapped open in surprise when she heard the tenderness and genuine concern in his words. She eyed the man with a critical eye noticing, for perhaps the first time, his red skin, glowing green blank eyes and the horns that jutted forth from his forehead. She had obviously never seen something like him before, before she looked down, slightly embarrassed.

"I-I'm fine."

The man gave a smile, exposing long canines and folding his wings against his back. She looked back up at him, unsure how to act in his presence. "Um…t-thank you for ssssaving me."

He eyed her, not saying anything for a second. She seemed to gain courage from his inaction, standing up and wrapping herself up in the cloak of one of the men who had been about to rape her.

"May I assssk the name of my sssssavior?" He gave a slight smile.

"It's Masheon Lightstrider."

"Masheon," she muttered. "It's a nice name."

She looked at him in the eyes again. "And what is sssssomeone like you doing way out here?" He chuckled, knowing what she meant. No doubt she could feel his demonic energy seeping out.

"I'm…running."

"Running? From the legion?" she seemed shocked by such an idea.

"Yes." He began. "I was an…unwilling servant of the legion. I recently regained myself and seek only one thing." "He looked up longingly. "I will find my siblings, even if they will not see me as their brother anymore."

She smiled a bit. "I will accompany you." He looked at her, surprised. She giggled. "I have nowhere else to go and I'm…well I'm not well at defending myself. Not to mention I am grateful to you."

He accepted her logic.

"Your sssssiblings, they are on Azeroth?"

"Last I heard. I haven't seen them since the scourge destroyed the sunwell."

She smiled and clapped her hands together. "Alright then! I will accompany you to Azeroth and we will sssssearch for your ssssiblings!"

He chuckled again and dissipated his scythe into green fel energy that flowed back into his body.

"Alright then."

She gasped when he picked her up bridal style and shot into the air, her arms swinging up and latching around his neck. "You're going to have to guide me to the dark portal. I do not know where I am going."

She giggled and nodded.

Xxx

Lyna Lightstrider washed ashore in the borean Tundra three months after the sunwell exploded. She was in a coma and very near death. She was picked up by the Vykrul who were just beginning to awaken from their slumber. Intent of following their master's will that stated he wanted any and all they could capture brought to him so he could transform them into death knights. They loaded her atop one of their nether drakes and set out towards Icecrown. However during the trip the Vykrul transporting her came under attack by a member of the red dragon flight. She plummeted back towards the ground and landed in the middle of a camp of native wolvar who immediately plundered the corpses of the Vykraul and the drake for any goods, and their flesh. One of the warriors of the tribe found her and discovered that she still lives. Excited, they brought her into one of the huts and nurtured her back to health.

When she awoke she found that she had no memory of her past life save for her name and that these animal people had taken care of her. She was shocked of course when they immediately put her to work as a slave or a servant. Indignant, she had tried to resist at first only to come to the realization that she did not know where she was, who she was and they had saved her from death. So she reluctantly submitted to their will.

Over the years she became well known among the tribe, working her way up the social ladder until she was no longer considered a slave, but a member of the pack. Looking back, she couldn't even be sure she was really a slave. They called her a slave and sometimes talked down to her but she was treated no different from young ones just learning their ways. She picked up on their customs quickly, even going so far as to learn to walk on her hands and feet like they do. Her mindset also transfomed into one of a Wolvar. With permission from the chieftain and numerous others, she constructed for herself armor made from the skins and furs of fallen comrades, making a pair of gloves from the clawed hands of wolvar, a pair of thick boots and pants, a chest piece that covered her breasts and left her midriff exposed, a helmet made from the skull of a fallen sister that still had fur and ears, a tail she had connected to a thick belt and a thick fur cloak that went down to just above her waist line. She even got her top and bottom canines sharpened and had the area around her eyes and across the bridge of her nose tattooed black like a small mask. When she was done she looked like the resulting offspring between a wolvar and a blood elf.

Eventually she was selected as an ambassador to the other Wolvar tribes, her belief that all of the clans should unite under one banner actually brought her more respect than what the general public would have thought. She ventured to the snowfall glade first to convince the snowfall tribe to join up. It worked. They were fully willing to unite. They too were excited about a union.

She then ventured to Zul'drak to try and get rageclaw to agree to this union.

But what she found there was utter devastation. Both the rageclaw and the trolls of Drak'tharon keep were under attack by the scourge. She had never been so horrified in her life. She flew into a rage and tore through any undead that got in her way, tapping into the inner rage, throwing her into a berserk fury. When she came down from her rage she was surrounded by rotting corpses that were definitely not going to rise up again. She then ventured into the village and freed what surviving Wolvar there were left and directed them to Dragonblight, to the bloodpaw clan, telling them that her clan and she were trying to unite the other clans. She used the attack of the undead as an example for the need for unity. She led them herself back towards dragonblight, missing the party of argent crusade that arrived not even an hour later.

She continued like this for the next three months, travelling all through Northrend meeting with the various Wolvar clans, setting up meetings and establishing contracts. The only thing left to do now was head to the sholazar basin to contact the Frenzyheart tribe and to find a decent piece of land, far from the undead that they could all settle and establish the new community.

However everything went wrong in a flash as something smashed into the back of her head. The only thing she heard was a chuckle and a heavily accented voice saying. "You won' get ta me little elf," before she blanked out.

When she awoke she found herself stripped naked and suspended in the air in the middle of a large hut.

She looked around, confused until the flap opened up, revealing a young man.

"So ya finally awake," he muttered as he dropped his huge axe to the floor and eyed her with hostility.

"I don' know how ya found my place but I know you won' get outta here alive. I can' be havin no stupid horde an alliance huntin my hide."

She examined the man in confusion, not recognizing this creature. He resembled the trolls, but only slightly. His skin was a dark tan, chocolate color and he was definitely shorter and far leaner than any troll she had ever seen. However he did have the three fingered hands, two fingered toes and long pointy ears. His hair was a vivid purple Mohawk that leaned a bit to the side with a bang hanging over his forehead and a pair of long braids growing from the base of his skull. He had tusks as well, but they were small, barely noticeable, like the tusks on a female troll and his eyes were the same color of his hair and his face a rounder, less angular version, almost like her own face minus the eyebrow length. She was fascinated.

"Oh?" he began, having noticed her fascinated stare. "Da little blood elf be interested in me eh?"

At this she grew confused.

"Blood elf? What that? Me Wolvar. Great berserker of bloodpaw tribe."

It was his turn to grow confused. "Wolvar? Da puppymen dat livin in da basin? How did dat happen?" he eyed her again, finally noticing her sharpened canines and the black tattoo covering her eyes. "What's your name?" he asked.

"She puffed out her chest in pride and gave a feral grin. "Me Berserker Lyna. Great warrior, great symbol for peace, me on mission to unite other clans against dead walkers."

He raised a purple eyebrow before it clicked for him. "Da Scourge," he muttered. He then looked at the elf again, contemplating something before he sighed and released her, catching her as she plummeted to the floor. "I don' tink you lying. I saw no deceit in your eyes. You really are a Wolvar elf."

She nodded.

He smiled sheepishly and pointed to the right. She turned and found her clothing and her weapons. "I apologize," he began. "Bein half breed makes me hated by Horde and alliance. Dey both attack me on sight. You bein a blood elf made me tink you was wit da Horde."

"Horde?" she asked. He nodded. "Dey one half of da so-called main races of da world," he sneered and spit, a bitter look on his face. "Cross faction half breeds are consider less den da others. Dey forced my parents into hiding. Da alliance was da same. We came here to da jungle where we could be safe from dem both. But we didn't know much about here. My parents were killed by huge cats, leaving me to fend for myself."

He eyed her again, noting that with her armor on she really did look half wolvar. He wondered how he didn't notice this before.

"What you?" she asked as she adjusted her chest piece. He snapped out of it to look at her with confusion.

"What creature are you?" she emphasized. He widened his eyes in realization before he grinned.

"I be Human and Troll halfbreed. Name's Ste'vevi."

He chuckled sheepishly when she looked at his outstretched hand in confusion, forgetting that she obviously couldn't comprehend what a handshake was.

"Come," he began. "I will take you to da Wolvar here as an apology for tyin you up."

She smiled, happy to have help and followed him outside where she became awed at the fact that she was so far above the ground in a huge tree. Ste'vevi laughed and wrapped an arm around her waist. "Hold on tight," he said before he leapt. She screamed as he plummeted towards the ground and grabbed a vine swinging from vine to vine like he'd been doing it his whole life. Perhaps he was. If she wasn't so fearful she might have enjoyed the feeling akin to flying as she soared through the air in between vine swings or the feeling of a male body pressed so close to hers, filling that void that had always been there since she came to terms with the fact that she was not a wolvar by blood and that none of them would take her for a mate.

But for now, she just screamed, cussing out the half troll as he laughed.

Now THIS is a warcraft story! Lol I hope you all enjoyed it.