The Wanderer

The setting of this story begins in a small settlement in the forest of Ashenvale, a lush, green, ancient forest. Trees were tall and little forest creatures thrived within them.
         Usually, it was quiet and peaceful. But, one day, the forest's trees rumbled, and the ground shook with the magnitude of an army. Hordes of undead horrors began hacking away at the ancient trees. Everywhere they touched a plague seemed to follow, killing the animals and plants around the deadly onslaught.
         Abominations, all sewn together with dead corpse flesh, and long, chain-linked claws at the end wrapped around their grotesque body, followed the animated skeletons and ghouls to the settlement in the center of the now-weeping forest. They destroyed the Village of Astranaar, the settlement in the center of Ashenvale.
They were a large army, sent by a wrathful Lich. The Lich King, named Arthas Menethil. He was once a noble, light-sworn Paladin. But he was taken control of very easily by the past-possessed Lich King, which was only a suit of rune-adorned armor encased in a magical block of ice, named Ner’zhul. He was encased there by a powerful demon, which he betrayed. That was his punishment. Ner’zhul’s orcish body was obliterated, and his very soul was sucked into the armor he wore, and was encased in the block of ice, to be frozen and tortured for the end of eternity.
         Ner’zhul had chosen a body to bind his soul to. That was Arthas Menethil. He had become one with Ner’zhul, traveled back to his kingdom of Lordaeron, and murdered his father, King Terenas. Arthas had gone on a long journey to get the ancient rune-blade known as ‘Frostmourne’. With that blade, and Ner’zhul’s armor, combined with their souls in Arthas’ body, he had become the Lich King, and freed Ner’zhul from his icy prison. Now, he sends out the undead army, known as the Scourge, to destroy life on the world of Azeroth. Now, the true adventure begins, for one in particular: an Elf, to be exact.
         
After the Night Elves had fought off the seemingly endless Scourge attack, they searched through the remains and wreckage of the buildings for survivors. An infant’s cries were heard throughout the small wrecked village. It was further way from where the village was more so in the bushes a little walk away into the forest. An elegant, violet-skinned Night Elf had gone to investigate where it was coming from. This Night Elf had a more kind, yet feral personality, unlike the rest of her people, which had basically no patience or understanding for out-landers.
Amava had found the infant wrapped in a rather large bundle of cloth, possibly because the child was out here long before anyone had noticed, and whoever had abandoned it wanted it to survive the cold weather, if there had been any.
She had gazed upon the infant’s structure for a few moments, furrowing her brows. The child’s head couldn’t be seen from the cloth over it, but, she noted the two, rather long pink-skinned ears protruding from the cloth bundle’s top. Amava gently moved her arm forward, pulling the cloth down from over the infant’s face, and her silver-glowing eyes stared into the infant’s own turquoise-glowing eyes.
They were both silent for a few moments, until Amava looked behind her cautiously, to make sure she wasn’t followed by any soldiers. She was a druid herself, a wielder of the naturalistic energies in the world, and a healer.
Amava quickly took the child in her arms, covering it up, and went to her abandoned little hut on the side of the village. That was her home. She closed the wooden creaking door to the hut once she and the child were both settled inside.
Amava looked around her little hut, searching for something the elf child could wear. She found a few rather large leaves, and looking at the child with a smirk on her lips, she set the leaves upon the ground. Slowly raising her arm, a green, glowing energy emitted from her palm, as the leaves start to meld together into a small baby-suit for the child to wear.
Amava stood over the child and removed the cloth from the infant’s small body. He giggled at her as she did. Amava smiled as she put the newly-made clothes on the child. She stood back, eyeing him, to see how he looked. She was quite satisfied.
Then Amava had thought of an idea. She couldn’t leave the child in the forest alone. She decided to take him before the village council.

The next morning had come, and she made her way to the large towering tree that the council stays within. There were three rather old-looking night elves with faded violet skin standing behind three podiums made of oak wood.
Amava stood before them with the child cradled in her arms. The three councilmen leaned over their podiums, furrowing their rather long, silver eyebrows. They almost looked like an owls. They turned their gaze to Amava, then the child.
The center councilmen spoke first. His voice seemed to boom within the large hollowed tree, “Greetings, Lady Amava,” The councilor started, “Why have you come?” The center councilor awaited an answer patiently. “Good council, I have brought to you, a child. One of which, belongs to a Blood Elf.” All three of the councilmen’s glowing silver eyes widened, and then looked at each other, anger clearly seen in their visage, grumbling amongst themselves.
Within their grumbling argument, you could hear, “A Blood Elf child?!”, “Absurd!”, “He will defile this village, and it’s beautiful forest!”, More mumbling and grumbling ensued, as Amava spoke up, “What if I taught him the ways of the Druid? Instead of learning the ways of arcane magic?”
The councilmen all stopped abruptly, turning their heads to the woman cradling the child. “I’ll adopt him, and raise him as my own!” Amava quickly said, as they turned to speak amongst themselves yet again.
“Very well,” The center councilor replied. “But you shall be warned, Lady Amava,” He paused, “If there is any report of him learning the arcane magic’s, he shall be exiled without a word. You have complete responsibility over him now.” All three councilmen nodded in agreement.
Amava nodded to them as well, “Ande'thoras-ethil, councilmen.” The language she had used was another word for ‘Farewell’ in Darnassian, the sacred language known to all night elves. She turned on her heels with the child in her arms, snuggled and sleeping comfortably.  Amava smiled down at her now-adopted son. She kept thinking for a few moments, thoughtfully at the sleeping child, “What shall I call you…” She muttered, “Tordanis. That’s it. Tordanis.” She laughed quietly to her joyous self, kissing the innocent child’s forehead, now named Tordanis.
         Time had passed since the day Tordanis had been adopted by his Night Elven mother. She trained him hard and long. She taught him everything she knew about druidism. She taught him the teachings that she had learned from the Cenarion Circle that was a Druidic organization that protected life on Azeroth, the world. Even everything about nature, and to cleanse wounds, she taught him. She taught him ancient languages, from all over Azeroth. She even read him books of the old wars, the creation of Azeroth, and how the universe came to be. She taught him also of the higher powers in the world. Such as the Great Aspects, which were dragons created by the great gods of the universe. The Titans, which were another name for the gods, and even the fallen Titan Sargeras. Sargeras was once a titan in the pantheon, the table of the gods. He was banished, and cast out of the pantheon for corrupting the mortal races of Azeroth. He is now the leader of the demons that enter Azeroth.
         As he grew, he was trained hard in the wielding of staff and sword. Amava taught him how to defend, and how to act in quick situations. They sat near a campfire in the forest one evening, listening to the quiet sounds of the night.
Suddenly, they had heard a loud shriek, as if something had been in terrible pain. An animal. Tordanis sat upright from lying down on the cloth Amava had made for him while he journeyed, composed of a wide variety of colors, such as rich purple, and blue. His long pink ears twitched from the sound. Amava whispered, “Shhh… be still, Tordanis. It is the circle of life… an animal has fallen prey to a predator.” She said wisely.  Tordanis slowly nodded, sighing, then laid back down, falling fast asleep.
Tordanis awoke; his mother had gone off somewhere, most likely watching him closely nearby. He decided he’d go for a walk in the forest. The forest always seemed to sparkle with naturistic magic, with all kinds of magical creatures, and wisps, souls of the deceased animals.
A great horned owl flew overhead, seeming to follow him. Tordanis found a stream, sitting on the edge of it, and putting his feet in the steady flow of water. It felt so refreshing.
The owl swooped down, and perched on a branch above the stream. Tordanis’ long, elven ears twitched at the sound of the landing bird.
Suddenly, the owl spoke. “Ah, greetings, adopted son of Lady Wispdancer!” The owls’ beak never moved. It seemed to be a way of telepathy the owl used to communicate.
Tordanis’ eyes widened at the owl, shocked at how it spoke to him.
“Y-You’re… talking to… me?” Tordanis said, after a few minutes of being overly surprised.
         The owl nodded, chuckling. “Oh, you have so much to learn!” The owl exclaimed, flying down and sitting down in the grass beside him.
         Tordanis watched her carefully. “D-Do you have a-a name?” He asked, his voice now stricken with awe and slight confusion.
         The owl stretched its wings, “I am Luna.” The horned owl said rather simply. “I see, Luna…” He trailed off, and then started up again, “Why have you come to me?” He asked.
         Luna folded her wings back again, “Amava had told me to watch you. “ She smiled in her owlish way.
         “Watch me?” He tilted his head, his golden, long hair going to one side. “Why watch me?” He watched her, wondering.
         The owl seemed to shrug its wings, clipping its beak. "I've learned to never question Lady Wispdancer," the owl explained, "and neither should you."
         Tordanis fell silent, mulling over the words. He shrugged, looking into the stream. "Where has she gone? When I awoke this morning, she was no where to be found...”
         "She'll be back soon enough." That was all Luna replied. She seemed preoccupied with a fish in the stream.
It was several hours until Amava returned to the hut. Tordanis had been outside, practicing his control over roots. The Night Elf surveyed the area, taking note of all the jutting roots, upturned rocks, and tipping-over trees. Tordanis was still focusing, green lights fluttering around his feet and legs. The ground trembled for a moment, and then a root jutted out of the soft soil. It squirmed about like a worm, and then fell over, laying limp in the grass.
         "Tordanis!" Amava suddenly shouted.
The boy flinched, losing his concentration. He looked over at the Night Elf and smiled. "You're back! Where'd you go this morning?"
         Amava strode forward, her leather armor covered in soot and dirt. She didn't respond as she walked over to the side of the hut. Leaning against the wall were two staves, one of which she tossed to Tordanis, the other she kept for herself.
         Without a word, she grasped the staff in both of her hands and rushed forward. The Blood Elf had little time to react, but threw the staff up, managing to block a high swing. She swung again and again, and each time Tordanis dodged or blocked.
         By now, the forest was growing dark as nightfall approached. Amava's attacks slowed down and eventually stopped altogether. With the few moments, Tordanis caught his breath, his eyes wide as he watched his adoptive mother and teacher. She was perfectly still, her silver gaze fixed on him. Then he noticed something... The air crackled. All at once, green energy gathered around Amava's hands, sparking to life. Then she threw a ball of pure -nature- at him, the green light flashing and charged like a bolt of electricity. Quickly, the young elf dove to the side, just in time for the ball to fly over his head, making his hair stand on end. He got back to his feet, staring at Amava.
         "Land a hit and we'll go inside."
         Those were her only instructions before she tossed the staff aside. Her form shimmered, then in a puff of swirling dark smoke her body became a crouched panther. Her muscles corded beneath her, golden eyes settling on the elf. Tordanis swallowed, taking a step back.
         Then she launched and disappeared. Tordanis whirled around, frantically looking to and fro, trying to locate his teacher. Each rustling of a bush, fluttering in a branch, every noise alerted the Blood Elf, almost frightened him. A low growl gave way to the transformed Night Elf's position, but not fast enough for him to make the first strike. The panther dashed from the cover of the bushes, making to swipe at his legs. He hopped back, noting there were no claws involved in the attack--something that greatly relieved him--and tried to counter with a swing of his staff.
         The panther dodged to one side and darted back into the bushes. This time Tordanis had a little more confidence, he straightened his back and looked around cautiously. When the panther shot out of the brush, a beam of pure light shot down from the sky, hitting the ground just before the cat. It skid to a halt, paws backpedalling beneath it. Before it could recover, roots shot up from the ground and encased the cat's paws, keeping it still.
         Tordanis walked over, confident his spell would hold. So, naturally, he would be shocked when he heard the roots snap. He watched in amazement as his teacher shape shifted again, this time into the form of a giant bear. The bear snarled, teeth bearing as it kicked away fragments of tree. It swung one massive paw, shoving Tordanis back a few paces. As he was recovering, the bear charged forward, moving at a rather alarming speed for something of its bulk. It reared onto its hind legs then brought all of its weight down on top of Tordanis, knocking him from his feet. The staff Tordanis was given was all that kept the bear from mauling him, the bear's jaws raking against the weapon. He kicked up with one foot, pushing a blow against the bear's chest to shove him off.
         The beast's form shimmered, and then in another swirl of smoke, Amava stood up. She offered a hand to Tordanis, helping him stand.
         "Well done, son! Now, time for dinner. Wash up," the woman instructed, a pleasant smile on her face.
         Tordanis panted, staring in amazement. She didn't even seem winded! He wiped his forehead, sighing. Luna, perched in a nearby tree, hooted her approval. A smile danced to Tordanis’ lips as he walked down to the creek to wash himself of dirt and grime.
         Tordanis, after washing himself, returned to his home with his adoptive mother. Luna flew off into the distance, off to find food for herself out in the forest.
         Tordanis went inside, and stood beside a round wooden table. It was made by excellent Night Elven craftsmanship, the wood smooth, with the fresh scent of oak.
         Food was  placed out, steaming vegetables, cooked meats, and fresh fruits of all kinds. Amava always prided herself in her dinners, knowing them to be both healthy and delicious. She brought the finishing touches to the meal, gesturing to a wooden stool for Tordanis to sit. The young elf obeyed, plopping down. His blue gaze was drawn in by the many different foods to choose from. Amava sat across from the table, offering to serve some of the food to Tordanis.
         After filling up Tordanis's plate, she filled her own and the two began eating.
         "Tordanis... Tomorrow, I may not be here when you wake up." Amava began, looking down at her plate. She took a bite of meat, chewing it thoughtfully. After swallowing, she continued, "Luna will once again be there to watch over you as you proceed with morning training as usual.."
         Tordanis stared at the older Night Elf, then nodded. He glanced toward the open door of the hut, out into the night. Further away, he could hear the eerie hooting of several owls on the hunt. Then he began to eat. He couldn't help but wonder why Amava had been leaving so early in the morning, being gone for so long, and coming back in the evening. The two elves ate in silence, no more conversation finding its way to the dinner table.

         The next morning, Tordanis did wake to an empty house. However, not all was quiet. The ground shook, tossing him from his leafy cot and onto the cold floor. The loud eruption of sound followed after, snapping Tordanis out of any sleepy stupor he may have still been in. He threw himself out of his room, running to the door. The trees outside shook, the sky was ablaze. Animals and creatures of all kinds ran and flew, escaping...something.
         An explosion ripped Tordanis from the doorframe, tossing him to the ground. His blue eyes were directed then to the village, Astranaar. The same place that had been ravaged so many years before, having rebuilt itself was in shambles again. Smoke rose in a thick cloud, buildings burning and collapsing. From his place at Amava's hut, he could easily see the carnage.
         Undead creatures, giant abominations and horrors of all kinds, were running about, tearing through buildings. Night elves were battling against them, bolts of naturalistic energy zapping through the air, roots tearing up from the ground to stop the monsters from destroying any more.
         Luna alighted on the ground next to Tordanis, looking rather flustered. Her feathers puffed out, a frightened hoot pushing itself from her tiny body.
         "Tordanis! Oh, thank Elune you're safe!" She cried, hopping over to the young elf.
         Tordanis stared at the owl, and then scooped her into his hands. "Where's Mother? Where has Amava gone?"
         The owl seemed to fumble for words, beak moving but no sound coming out. Then she frantically replied. "She told me not to let you come to the village! She wanted you to stay here--Stay here till she comes for you!"
         Tordanis's eyes grew wide. He looked away from the owl, his gaze moving back to the village. It did not seem like anything was going so well. The Scourge army was already moving through the village and away. He couldn't really tell whether there were survivors or not... But he stayed put. Stragglers were starting to break off from the main army. If he made any move to go down there before the coast was clear, they'd surely spot him and eat him.
         It was becoming dark, nightfall fast approaching, by the time Tordanis ventured from Amava's house on the hill. He picked through the trees, eyes peeled for any sign of Undead. Luna stayed with him, perched on his shoulder. When they reached the village proper, they were greeted by a sad sight. The area was leveled, buildings collapsed, burning, missing chunks from the walls. There were a few other Night elves going around, assessing the damage and looking for other survivors. Amava was not among those up and moving. Tordanis ran through the village, digging through rubble, doing whatever it took to search through everywhere.
         Then he found her. She was wounded, leaning up against a crumbled wall. Her staff, an elegant weapon with carved Druidic runes along the shaft, was lying on the ground next to her. Her eyes were closed, and to the untrained eye, she would have seemed already dead. To Tordanis, however, he could see she was barely breathing, very light and faint. He ran to her side, grasping one of her pale hands.
         "Mother!" He cried, touching her shoulder lightly. She stirred, his eyes blurred with tears. "Amava... Are you alright..?"
         The Night elf exhaled, her eyes fluttering open halfway. "T-Tor...? I thought... I told Luna... To keep you away...”
         Luna twittered softly, shifting from one talon to the other. "The Scourge is gone, Lady Wispdancer..."
         "Oh, good...” The druid sighed again, eyes closing. "Tor... Promise me you'll live right. For truth. Love. Do everything in your power to... Protect the next place you find."          
         Tordanis swallowed, blinking his eyes. "What do you mean? I'm staying here, aren't I? Staying here with you."
         Amava shook her head, a weak gesture. "No... I won't be here long... You must go, live your life to the fullest... Maybe... Find your real parents."
         She took a moment to breathe, and then continued slowly, quietly. "Luna will stay with you... And... Here."
         Her hand moves shakily, but scoots the staff over to the young elf. "Take this. Make for Orgrimmar, the city of the Orcs. You're a Blood Elf, Tordanis... Rightfully a member of the Horde. Seek out Thrall, the leader of the Horde. The Horde is the opposing force of the Alliance. He can help you from there."
         Tordanis took the staff, staring uncertainly at it, then at Amava. The Night elf seemed to pale even more, going very still. Tordanis's lips trembled, but he clutched the staff tight and stood. He looked over at Luna, tears streaming down his cheeks.
         "Which way to Orgrimmar?" he asked the owl quietly.
         The owl hooted, flying up to his shoulder. She pointed a wing to the east, and Tordanis nodded. He looked one last time on his adopted mother, and then made a silent vow to avenge her. Amava suddenly reached out at him again, “One last thing, Tordanis…” her voice trailed off slightly, “take this, as well.” She handed him a satchel with a rather large stone within it, as he looked in, he took it out, eyeing it curiously, despite his worry for his shando.
         It had a blue rune engraving on it. He touched it gently, and instantly teleported, to Darnassus. He only had a moment to gasp, but then disappeared. Amava was going to tell him not to touch it, but her strength waned. Though, even at her death, she found his situation quite funny, chuckling to herself, “Such a stupid boy…” And then, her eyes shut, a satisfied smile on her face.