Post by Archivist~Bel on Feb 21, 2006 10:16:28 GMT -5
Citizen Redthorne
Author: Phillius
Link: forums.worldofwarcraft.com/thread.aspx?fn=wow-realm-scarletcrusade&t=155885&p=1&tmp=1#post155885
I recently found myself returning to Stratholme - where I lived most of my early life - for the first time since Arthas rampaged through the city.
It's not quite how I remember it. And I would never have thought that I would give a damn about the place. I couldn't have cared less about it when I lived there, now I feel compelled to help liberate it.
I stood at its gates, waiting for my comrades, trying to prepare myself for the battles that lay ahead. Yet try as I might to forget my last few days there, the memories of what I lost just kept flooding back.
I.
The mid-spring sun was beginning its slow rise over the kingdom of Lordaeron. Winter’s snow had been gone for several weeks, and the land’s forests filled the morning air with the scent of pine and the sounds of songbirds.
All across the domain of the noble King Terenas, the denizens were beginning to rise, and the great city of Stratholme in the kingdom’s north-east was no different. Bakers, blacksmiths, market vendors and a myriad of other people had begun to mill around the streets of the city, opening up their shops for the day, or starting their morning chores. In the house of one Gathris Underhill, a young man stirred from his slumber at the stern calling from the lower level of the abode.
“Phillius! Phillius Redthorne, you lazy Troll-spawn! Get down here now!”
The young man rolled over and glanced at the silver Gnomish timepiece sitting beside his bed. Six in the morning, and it was Tuesday. Phillius let out a yawn and inwardly cursed as he realised that he’d need to head to the grain warehouses this morning.
Giving in to the urge to stretch, Phillius kicked off his covers, slid off the bed and half walked, half stumbled over to the window. Throwing back the curtains and opening the portal, the young man’s stomach growled as the smell of warm bread from the local bake house hit his nose.
I won’t have time for breakfast now, he thought. I’ll have to pick something up a little later.
He moved over to a washbowl which had been filled with warm water for him, no doubt by the household’s maid, Glenda. Gathris Underhill was a reasonably wealthy man- a prominent leatherworker and businessman, his wares were very popular throughout Lordaeron. As such, he could afford the hired help.
Phillius splashed his face with water and looked in the mirror. Brown, sleep-filled eyes glared back at him. He grabbed a brush and quickly ran it through his brown, shoulder-length hair. Spinning around, his eyes darted over the room, looking for some clothes to throw on. The corner of his mouth tugged slightly as he spotted them laid out on his dresser.
Thank you, Glenda.
He changed out of his night garments and into his clothes. On his way out the bedroom door, he opened up his dresser and removed a crudely folded-up piece pf paper and a small leather purse. He dropped them in his pockets and made his way down the stairs and into the dining area. Gathris was sitting down to his morning meal, as was the third occupant of the house, Gathris’ sister and Phillius’ mother, Gillian Redthorne. The young man manoeuvred around the table and gave his mother a kiss in the forehead.
“Look at you,” Gathris spat, looking up from his morning paper. “You look like a worg’s breakfast.”
“Don’t listen to your Uncle.” Gillian shot her brother a dark glare. “He’s just jealous that you ended up with the looks of the family.”
The middle-aged, short, round and balding Gathris simply grunted. “Huh. A fat head will serve him no good Gillian, save for ending up on the dinner plate of a Troll.”
Phillius grabbed a Goldenbark apple out of the fruit bowl in the middle of the table and began polishing it against his shirt. “Uncle Gathris, do you need me to head out to the grain storehouse his morning?” He already knew the answer. Phillius had been collecting grain from the stores every Tuesday ever since he turned seventeen, four years ago.
“Of course,” Gathris responded with venom in his voice. “Unless you want the household to starve. And by the time you get back, I’ll be at the workshop. I expect you to head straight there as well, when you’ve returned. Don’t be late.” Gathris’ tone left no doubt he was serious. “I have a large order of armor to fulfil for the Stratholme Guard, and I expect it to be out this afternoon.”
Phillius nodded, but did not look at his Uncle. He took a bite out of the apple and headed for the front door. Gathris frowned as the door slammed shut behind Phillius.
“That lazy boy will never amount to nothing.” He grumbled.
“He is hardly lazy, nor a boy any more Gathris. He works as hard as any other apprentice in the Leatherworks. He is a young man now, and you would do well to treat him as one.”
“A man?” Gathris spat. “He will be a man when he puts his family priorities ahead of his personal wants. He will be a man when he stops gallivanting around Corrin’s Crossing with that young tramp of his, what’s her name? Stephanie?”
“Stephanya.” Gillian corrected, but Gathris didn’t seem to notice or care, and continued his tirade.
“He will be a man when he takes up a sword against an Orc or a Troll and lives to tell the tale.”
Gillian frowned. “A man is not defined by the amount of blood he spills, Gathris.”
“Tell that to the soldiers who fell defending our homeland.” Gathris spat. ”I’m sure they would love the idea of not being defined of as ‘men’.”
Gillian sighed. There was no reasoning with her brother when he was in one of these moods. She stood up from the table. “I think I’ve heard enough, thank you brother. Now if you will excuse me, I will get ready for work.” And she turned on her heal and left the room.
~~~
II.
Phillius squinted as he stepped out of the house and into the morning sun. Despite the brightness of the early-morning spring sun, something seemed dark about the city today. He put the feeling out of his mind as he tucked into his apple and turned and headed up the street, in the opposite direction of the granary. He would complete his weekly task later - right now he had some personal business to attend to.
The streets of Stratholme were already bustling with early morning shoppers heading downtown to the city’s markets to procure their food for the next week. Phillius made his way up town, nodding and smiling briefly to the few people that he recognised. The young man had lived in Stratholme most of his life, ever since his father died and his mother was forced to sell their farm when he was young. He did not feel like a citizen of the great city and never really made the effort to fit in. He was an outsider, living under a roof that was not his. His childhood memories of the farm – memories of happier times – did nothing to dissuade those feelings of isolation.
Phillius turned into a narrow laneway behind an Inn and tossed the finished apple core into a nearby bin. The multi-storied buildings on either side had prevented the morning sun from permeating the lane, and the air was still thick with evening damp. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the piece of paper he had picked up out of his drawer. He unfolded it and read its contents for the tenth or one hundredth time, he didn’t remember.
17 King’s Lane, 7am next Tuesday. I will have it.
C.T.
As if on queue, the bell from Stratholme’s town hall clock rang out over the city, marking seven a.m. Phillius slowly moved up the laneway, scanning the numbers on the doors. His heart started to beat faster as he stopped at the door marked seventeen. He moved his clenched hand towards the door and paused for a second. He knocked on the closed portal.
Nothing.
He waited several moments before knocking again, this time a little louder than the last. Footsteps could be heard walking down a set of stairs,
“Who is it?” a deep voice called from behind the door.
“Redthorne.” The young man responded quietly, glancing around. Phillius heard the sound of a lock being undone. The door creaked open revealing a giant of a man who, if he had green skin and tusks, could have easily been mistaken been mistaken for an Orc.
“Huh,” The man grunted in semi-surprise, looking Phillius up and down. “I didn’t think you’d show.” He moved aside and gestured with his head for Phillius to enter, which the young man did. The door closed behind him, and the lock was re-engaged. The rank smell of the dark room caused Phillius to in wrinkle up his nose in disgust. It had been a long time since this room has seen either daylight or fresh air.
“This way.” The hulking man lumbered up the stairs with his guest following. The two made their way into a small room, and Phillius’ host sat down behind a small wooden desk. Phillius simply stood there for several moments, waiting for the man to speak.
“I think you’ll be more than happy with the item I have for you.” The seated man smiled as he leaned back lazily in his chair. The smile reminded Phillius of a wolf about to make a meal out of a small rodent.
Phillius nodded. “Thank you, Cartero. If it weren’t for you….”
The man, Cartero, dismissed the oncoming compliment with a wave of his hand. “It is not a bother my friend. I understand that it is not an easy task to obtain an item of exquisite beauty on an apprentice’s wage. I am glad to be able to provide this service for you. There is the small matter of the payment.”
Phillius nodded, and reached deep into a pocket in his pants. When his hand reappeared it held the small leather purse. He dropped it on the desk.
“Twenty gold, as agreed.”
Cartero leaned forward and picked up the sack, never taking his eyes of Phillius. He jiggled it in his right hand for a moment. Then he opened a draw in his desk and dropped it in.
“You are not going to check it?” Phillius asked.
Cartero's deep voice lowered even more as he threatened, “I trust that you are not foolish enough to underpay me. Now,” his voice suddenly friendly again, “Let me get the item for you.”
Cartero stood up and removed a painting on the wall behind him, revealing a safe. He manoeuvred into Phillius' line of sight of the safe, and a few twists and turns of the locking mechanism later the safe opened, revealing a small felt box. Cartero removed it and turned and faced Phillius.
“Here you are my friend.” Cartero handed the felt box to his guest. “I hope your lady friend likes it.”
Phillius took the box from Cartero and opened it. He had to suppress a gape when he saw its contents – a beautifully engraved gold ring. The engravings appeared to be some script that he could not read, however appeared to be in High Elvish. Perched on top of the ring was a massive diamond with two smaller blue stones on either side of it which Phillius could not identify. It didn’t matter anyway. Cartero had come through for him.
Phillius closed the box and looked at Cartero. A smile broke out on his face is spite of himself. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”
“As I said, not a problem, my young friend. I wish you all the happiness you deserve. Now if you will excuse me,” Cartero moved towards the door and ushered Phillius that way as well, “I have other business to attend to.” Back down the stars the two went, and Cartero saw Phillius out the front door.
The sounds of locks being re-engaged behind him, Phillius looked down at the box in his hand and smiled broadly.
This will make a perfect engagement ring.
~~~
III.
Gathris Underhill glanced up at the clock on the wall. It was already 11 am.
Where in the Nether was Phillius? He wondered. The boy was already two hours late for work. Gathris was seething. He had taken the boy and his mother into his home after the death of her husband, given Phillius employment after he had dropped out of school. His life had been turned upside down by the ungrateful runt and this is how he was thanked?
Gathris snorted and went back to work. When he saw the boy next he would return the favour.
An inky-black horse slowly made its way south through the main street of Corrin’s Crossing, its rider filled with nervous anticipation. The townsfolk were busy going about their daily business and for the most part ignored the horseman. One elder gentleman who was sweeping the steps of the Town Hall paused as he recognized the newcomer. He waved and smiled.
“Phillius! How are you son?”
The young man brought his horse, Alleria, to a stop and gave him a pat on the neck.
“I’m doing great, Mr. McCallum, just great.” Phillius smiled. “Tell me, do you know where I can find that lovely daughter of yours?”
“Stephanya?” the older man frowned slightly. “She said she had some things to sort out this morning and took off towards Lake Mereldar. As far as I know, that’s where she is.”
Things to sort out? Phillius was slightly puzzled. Stephanya McCallum was a confident, determined and headstrong young woman. She had clear goals and direction in her life. What things did she need ‘to sort out?’
“Thanks very much Mr. McCallum. I’ll see you later.” And Phillius took off in the direction of the lake. He hoped that everything was all right.
Lake Mereldar. He smiled - the location of their first date. He’d met Stephanya while making a delivery of leather goods from Stratholme to the Crossing two years ago, a small delivery that turned out to be for her father. Phillius was upset that his uncle would send him all the way down to the dull little place for such a minor delivery. When he arrived at the McCallum homestead and found Stephanya there to greet him instead of her father, he annoyance increased even more so.
Phillius stood at the door of the homestead. “Excuse me?” He asked with more than a hint of irritation in his voice. “What do you mean ‘Not here’?”
“I’m sorry, I’ll repeat myself and refrain from using big words like ‘not’ and ‘here’,” Stephanya retorted. She was not about to be spoken to by some upstart apprentice. “My father went out. Nicked off. Went to see a man about a dog. Not … here! He should not be more than a couple of hours; as I said, you are more than welcome to remain here until he ret…”
“I have other deliveries to attend to,’ Phillius lied. “I can’t afford to wait around here until your father decides to wander on home. We specified today for the delivery and I need his signature so I can leave it here.”
Stephanya scowled. “Then take your delivery and begone. If you want his signature you’ll wait, if not, I have better things to do than standing here arguing something with you that can not be changed. Good day, sir!” She went to close the door.
Phillius quickly mulled over the situation. If he returned to Stratholme late his uncle would be angry. If he returned with the McCallum delivery his would be skinned alive. He decided to take the lesser of the two evils.
“Wait!” The delivery boy sighed and put his hand to prevent the door from closing completely. “I’ll … I’ll wait.”
Stephanya’s frown disappeared and she let the young man in.
The two spent next three hours talking and despite the heated introduction, found that they got on exceptionally well; Stephanya the headstrong and serious woman, Phillius the somewhat aloof joker. Opposite personalities that seemed to compliment each other perfectly. Phillius had realised what a beautiful young woman she was, in both her looks and attitude towards life. Her father came home and the delivery was made. Just before he left, he plucked up the courage to ask Stephanya if he could see her again.
“Well, I don’t know.” She responded rather coyly. ”You were very rude to earlier.” She liked the idea, but was going to make Phillius work for it.
He looked down at his feet. “Well, yes I suppose I was,” Phillius admitted, looking back up into her dark brown eyes. A breeze sprung up, blowing her fiery red hair into her face. “But like I told you, my uncle is a bit of a taskmaster, and I was irritated at the situation, not you. Can’t we put that ugly beginning behind us and, you know, start fresh? As …. friends.”
Stephanya returned the deep stare into Phillius’ eyes. In there she saw a sincerity that she had not seen in anyone else before. There was something special about the boy and she was drawn to him; that much she knew. She let a moment pass.
“Be here on Saturday afternoon.” She smiled. “I’ll prepare a picnic. We can go to Lake Mereldar.”
And so Phillius did, and that friendship soon blossomed into a deep love.
The young man came up on lake and sure enough, found Stephanya looking out over the lake, the late morning sun glistening off the surface of the crystal blue water. Day or night, the beauty of this place was second to none. He dismounted and tied the reigns to a tree and made his way over to her.
He could not remove the smile from his face, no matter how much he tried. His heart was beating madly and adrenaline coursed through his body.
“Stephanya?” The young woman turned, somewhat startled.
“Phillius? Wha … What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be at work?” She got to her feet and the two embraced, Phillius giving Stephanya a tender kiss on the forehead.
“Gathris is going to be fuming, you know that.” She scolded light-heartedly.
“I know, and It that’s his problem, not mine. All that matters is the here and now.” The two separated but remained holding hands.
“Actually UI am glad you are here. There’s something that I need to speak to you about.” She looked up into his eyes. He was excited about something, but it would have to wait. What she had to tell him was too important. He seemed to sense it and asked,
“What? Are you okay? What’s wrong?” Phillius was growing confused.
She gave him a sullen smile. “I’ve been thinking a lot about the future. Yours, mine, my family’s - everyone’s. Too much is happening at the moment, too much for me to sit around here and do nothing.”
Phillius furrowed his brows. “Steph, what are you talking about.”
She looked at him with apologetic eyes. “I’m going away for a while.”
~~~
A hooded figure moved slowly but gracefully through the crowds of the Stratholme market, carefully avoiding all contact with the city’s denizens. Stall owners called out to him as he walked past, eager to peddle their wears on him. The dark figure smiled inwardly. He did not need their fruits, their dairy products or their clothing. He did not need anything. And soon, he mused to himself, neither would they. Soon his master would be upon this city, and life in this city would ever be again.
But before that took place, a task needed to be completed - an item returned. The figure turned out of the market and headed uptown. The longer the item remained in one place, the more of an imprint it left, and as fortune would have it that the target had been stationary for an extended period and would be easy to find.
The figure continued his slow journey uptown, towards the house of an unsuspecting man by the name of Cartero.
~~~
IV
“Going away?” Phillius stood back and looked at Stephanya, his face clouded with confusion. “Going away where?”
Stephanya turned away from Phillus and looked out over Lake Mereldar. Such a beautiful place. “You have heard the stories of the Cult of the Damned.”
“Some Undead cult in western Lordaeron. Yeah, I’ve heard something about it. Everyone has.” Phillius shrugged. “What does that have to do with you?”
“It’s more than a cult, it’s a full-blown invasion. Battles are raging all across Lordaeron. Only last week Hearthglen was barely held against the Undead, against the Scourge. And rumour has it that Prince Arthas and the Silver Hand are on their way to Stratholme.”
Phillius was genuinely befuddled. This talk was not like Stephanya at all. “What? How do you know all this?”
Stephanya turned back to Phillius. “Yesterday, priests from the Monastery in Tirisfal Glades came by Corrin’s Crossing. They told us stories of horror and destruction that haven’t been heard of since the war with the Orcs. The Silver Hand are trying to stem the tide of incursion but defeats are more common than victories. Casualties are rising.” Stephanya turned back to the lake.
“Look at this place, Phillius.” She gestured to the landscape in front of her. ”Look at the beauty of the lake, breath deep the scent of the pines, listen to the songs of the birds. This place is alive, Phillius, and it must remain that way. The Silver Hand cannot be everywhere. Its every citizen’s duty to help keep the Undead at bay.”
Phillius frowned. “What are you saying?”
Stephanya continued staring out across the waters of the lake. “The monastery is calling out for people to help them with their efforts, to join the ranks of servants of the Light to help beat back the invasion. I am going to help them.”
“What?” Phillius could not believe his ears. He moved into her line of sight and lifted her chin, looking into her eyes. “You can’t be serious Steph, you have no military training.”
Stephanya returned the look. In her eyes, Phillius saw a look of determination that he knew all too well. She had made up her mind and any argument now would be a waste of breath.
“Force alone is not going to stop the Undead, that’s clear. Faith is what is needed. Faith in the Alliance, Faith in ourselves and Faith in Light. I’m going to train in the ways of a healer, Phillius. I am going to become a priestess of the Light.”
Phillius dropped his head for a moment and then looked back at her. “And what about us?” he asked.
Stephanya gave Phillius a warm smile and took hold of his hands. “I won’t throw away what we have, ever. It will only be for a short time, until this whole thing blows over, then I”ll be back. The Alliance has faced these kinds of tests before and come through. We’ll do so again.”
Phillius was not convinced. “Don’t go. I love you and I don’t want to lose you.”
“This is something I must do. For you, for my family, for Lordaeron. You won’t lose me, I promise. I just wish there was a way I could make you see that.”
Phillius reached into his pocket. “There is.”
He produced the felt box he picked up from Cartero. He got down on one knee, opened the box and presented it to her.
“Marry me, Steph.”
Stephanya gasped and brought her hands to her mouth. “Phil, I….”
“If you want to help fight the Undead then the Light knows that there’s no power in the world that will stop you. But I want to know that you’ll be coming back to me when this is all over.”
Phillius took the ring from the box and slid it on Stephanya’s left ring finger. She giggled. “It’s a little too big.”
Suddenly, as though the ring had heard her, the blue stones on the ring began to glow slightly, and the gold band began to shrink to snugly fit her finger. She looked at Phillius in astonishment.
“Where did you get this?”
Phillius smiled stood up. “It doesn’t matter. All that maters is that you and I will always together.”
The newly engaged couple embraced and engaged in a passionate kiss. When they parted, Stephanya spoke.
“You should to return to Stratholme.”
Phillius nodded. “When are you leaving?” He asked, heart aching.
“The priests are returning to the monastery tonight. I’m going with them.”
“Then this is goodbye.” Phillius felt a tear forming in his eye.
“No,” Stephanya said, tenderly touching his cheek and giving him a warm smile. “Not goodbye - I’ll see you again soon.”
Author: Phillius
Link: forums.worldofwarcraft.com/thread.aspx?fn=wow-realm-scarletcrusade&t=155885&p=1&tmp=1#post155885
I recently found myself returning to Stratholme - where I lived most of my early life - for the first time since Arthas rampaged through the city.
It's not quite how I remember it. And I would never have thought that I would give a damn about the place. I couldn't have cared less about it when I lived there, now I feel compelled to help liberate it.
I stood at its gates, waiting for my comrades, trying to prepare myself for the battles that lay ahead. Yet try as I might to forget my last few days there, the memories of what I lost just kept flooding back.
I.
The mid-spring sun was beginning its slow rise over the kingdom of Lordaeron. Winter’s snow had been gone for several weeks, and the land’s forests filled the morning air with the scent of pine and the sounds of songbirds.
All across the domain of the noble King Terenas, the denizens were beginning to rise, and the great city of Stratholme in the kingdom’s north-east was no different. Bakers, blacksmiths, market vendors and a myriad of other people had begun to mill around the streets of the city, opening up their shops for the day, or starting their morning chores. In the house of one Gathris Underhill, a young man stirred from his slumber at the stern calling from the lower level of the abode.
“Phillius! Phillius Redthorne, you lazy Troll-spawn! Get down here now!”
The young man rolled over and glanced at the silver Gnomish timepiece sitting beside his bed. Six in the morning, and it was Tuesday. Phillius let out a yawn and inwardly cursed as he realised that he’d need to head to the grain warehouses this morning.
Giving in to the urge to stretch, Phillius kicked off his covers, slid off the bed and half walked, half stumbled over to the window. Throwing back the curtains and opening the portal, the young man’s stomach growled as the smell of warm bread from the local bake house hit his nose.
I won’t have time for breakfast now, he thought. I’ll have to pick something up a little later.
He moved over to a washbowl which had been filled with warm water for him, no doubt by the household’s maid, Glenda. Gathris Underhill was a reasonably wealthy man- a prominent leatherworker and businessman, his wares were very popular throughout Lordaeron. As such, he could afford the hired help.
Phillius splashed his face with water and looked in the mirror. Brown, sleep-filled eyes glared back at him. He grabbed a brush and quickly ran it through his brown, shoulder-length hair. Spinning around, his eyes darted over the room, looking for some clothes to throw on. The corner of his mouth tugged slightly as he spotted them laid out on his dresser.
Thank you, Glenda.
He changed out of his night garments and into his clothes. On his way out the bedroom door, he opened up his dresser and removed a crudely folded-up piece pf paper and a small leather purse. He dropped them in his pockets and made his way down the stairs and into the dining area. Gathris was sitting down to his morning meal, as was the third occupant of the house, Gathris’ sister and Phillius’ mother, Gillian Redthorne. The young man manoeuvred around the table and gave his mother a kiss in the forehead.
“Look at you,” Gathris spat, looking up from his morning paper. “You look like a worg’s breakfast.”
“Don’t listen to your Uncle.” Gillian shot her brother a dark glare. “He’s just jealous that you ended up with the looks of the family.”
The middle-aged, short, round and balding Gathris simply grunted. “Huh. A fat head will serve him no good Gillian, save for ending up on the dinner plate of a Troll.”
Phillius grabbed a Goldenbark apple out of the fruit bowl in the middle of the table and began polishing it against his shirt. “Uncle Gathris, do you need me to head out to the grain storehouse his morning?” He already knew the answer. Phillius had been collecting grain from the stores every Tuesday ever since he turned seventeen, four years ago.
“Of course,” Gathris responded with venom in his voice. “Unless you want the household to starve. And by the time you get back, I’ll be at the workshop. I expect you to head straight there as well, when you’ve returned. Don’t be late.” Gathris’ tone left no doubt he was serious. “I have a large order of armor to fulfil for the Stratholme Guard, and I expect it to be out this afternoon.”
Phillius nodded, but did not look at his Uncle. He took a bite out of the apple and headed for the front door. Gathris frowned as the door slammed shut behind Phillius.
“That lazy boy will never amount to nothing.” He grumbled.
“He is hardly lazy, nor a boy any more Gathris. He works as hard as any other apprentice in the Leatherworks. He is a young man now, and you would do well to treat him as one.”
“A man?” Gathris spat. “He will be a man when he puts his family priorities ahead of his personal wants. He will be a man when he stops gallivanting around Corrin’s Crossing with that young tramp of his, what’s her name? Stephanie?”
“Stephanya.” Gillian corrected, but Gathris didn’t seem to notice or care, and continued his tirade.
“He will be a man when he takes up a sword against an Orc or a Troll and lives to tell the tale.”
Gillian frowned. “A man is not defined by the amount of blood he spills, Gathris.”
“Tell that to the soldiers who fell defending our homeland.” Gathris spat. ”I’m sure they would love the idea of not being defined of as ‘men’.”
Gillian sighed. There was no reasoning with her brother when he was in one of these moods. She stood up from the table. “I think I’ve heard enough, thank you brother. Now if you will excuse me, I will get ready for work.” And she turned on her heal and left the room.
~~~
II.
Phillius squinted as he stepped out of the house and into the morning sun. Despite the brightness of the early-morning spring sun, something seemed dark about the city today. He put the feeling out of his mind as he tucked into his apple and turned and headed up the street, in the opposite direction of the granary. He would complete his weekly task later - right now he had some personal business to attend to.
The streets of Stratholme were already bustling with early morning shoppers heading downtown to the city’s markets to procure their food for the next week. Phillius made his way up town, nodding and smiling briefly to the few people that he recognised. The young man had lived in Stratholme most of his life, ever since his father died and his mother was forced to sell their farm when he was young. He did not feel like a citizen of the great city and never really made the effort to fit in. He was an outsider, living under a roof that was not his. His childhood memories of the farm – memories of happier times – did nothing to dissuade those feelings of isolation.
Phillius turned into a narrow laneway behind an Inn and tossed the finished apple core into a nearby bin. The multi-storied buildings on either side had prevented the morning sun from permeating the lane, and the air was still thick with evening damp. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the piece of paper he had picked up out of his drawer. He unfolded it and read its contents for the tenth or one hundredth time, he didn’t remember.
17 King’s Lane, 7am next Tuesday. I will have it.
C.T.
As if on queue, the bell from Stratholme’s town hall clock rang out over the city, marking seven a.m. Phillius slowly moved up the laneway, scanning the numbers on the doors. His heart started to beat faster as he stopped at the door marked seventeen. He moved his clenched hand towards the door and paused for a second. He knocked on the closed portal.
Nothing.
He waited several moments before knocking again, this time a little louder than the last. Footsteps could be heard walking down a set of stairs,
“Who is it?” a deep voice called from behind the door.
“Redthorne.” The young man responded quietly, glancing around. Phillius heard the sound of a lock being undone. The door creaked open revealing a giant of a man who, if he had green skin and tusks, could have easily been mistaken been mistaken for an Orc.
“Huh,” The man grunted in semi-surprise, looking Phillius up and down. “I didn’t think you’d show.” He moved aside and gestured with his head for Phillius to enter, which the young man did. The door closed behind him, and the lock was re-engaged. The rank smell of the dark room caused Phillius to in wrinkle up his nose in disgust. It had been a long time since this room has seen either daylight or fresh air.
“This way.” The hulking man lumbered up the stairs with his guest following. The two made their way into a small room, and Phillius’ host sat down behind a small wooden desk. Phillius simply stood there for several moments, waiting for the man to speak.
“I think you’ll be more than happy with the item I have for you.” The seated man smiled as he leaned back lazily in his chair. The smile reminded Phillius of a wolf about to make a meal out of a small rodent.
Phillius nodded. “Thank you, Cartero. If it weren’t for you….”
The man, Cartero, dismissed the oncoming compliment with a wave of his hand. “It is not a bother my friend. I understand that it is not an easy task to obtain an item of exquisite beauty on an apprentice’s wage. I am glad to be able to provide this service for you. There is the small matter of the payment.”
Phillius nodded, and reached deep into a pocket in his pants. When his hand reappeared it held the small leather purse. He dropped it on the desk.
“Twenty gold, as agreed.”
Cartero leaned forward and picked up the sack, never taking his eyes of Phillius. He jiggled it in his right hand for a moment. Then he opened a draw in his desk and dropped it in.
“You are not going to check it?” Phillius asked.
Cartero's deep voice lowered even more as he threatened, “I trust that you are not foolish enough to underpay me. Now,” his voice suddenly friendly again, “Let me get the item for you.”
Cartero stood up and removed a painting on the wall behind him, revealing a safe. He manoeuvred into Phillius' line of sight of the safe, and a few twists and turns of the locking mechanism later the safe opened, revealing a small felt box. Cartero removed it and turned and faced Phillius.
“Here you are my friend.” Cartero handed the felt box to his guest. “I hope your lady friend likes it.”
Phillius took the box from Cartero and opened it. He had to suppress a gape when he saw its contents – a beautifully engraved gold ring. The engravings appeared to be some script that he could not read, however appeared to be in High Elvish. Perched on top of the ring was a massive diamond with two smaller blue stones on either side of it which Phillius could not identify. It didn’t matter anyway. Cartero had come through for him.
Phillius closed the box and looked at Cartero. A smile broke out on his face is spite of himself. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”
“As I said, not a problem, my young friend. I wish you all the happiness you deserve. Now if you will excuse me,” Cartero moved towards the door and ushered Phillius that way as well, “I have other business to attend to.” Back down the stars the two went, and Cartero saw Phillius out the front door.
The sounds of locks being re-engaged behind him, Phillius looked down at the box in his hand and smiled broadly.
This will make a perfect engagement ring.
~~~
III.
Gathris Underhill glanced up at the clock on the wall. It was already 11 am.
Where in the Nether was Phillius? He wondered. The boy was already two hours late for work. Gathris was seething. He had taken the boy and his mother into his home after the death of her husband, given Phillius employment after he had dropped out of school. His life had been turned upside down by the ungrateful runt and this is how he was thanked?
Gathris snorted and went back to work. When he saw the boy next he would return the favour.
An inky-black horse slowly made its way south through the main street of Corrin’s Crossing, its rider filled with nervous anticipation. The townsfolk were busy going about their daily business and for the most part ignored the horseman. One elder gentleman who was sweeping the steps of the Town Hall paused as he recognized the newcomer. He waved and smiled.
“Phillius! How are you son?”
The young man brought his horse, Alleria, to a stop and gave him a pat on the neck.
“I’m doing great, Mr. McCallum, just great.” Phillius smiled. “Tell me, do you know where I can find that lovely daughter of yours?”
“Stephanya?” the older man frowned slightly. “She said she had some things to sort out this morning and took off towards Lake Mereldar. As far as I know, that’s where she is.”
Things to sort out? Phillius was slightly puzzled. Stephanya McCallum was a confident, determined and headstrong young woman. She had clear goals and direction in her life. What things did she need ‘to sort out?’
“Thanks very much Mr. McCallum. I’ll see you later.” And Phillius took off in the direction of the lake. He hoped that everything was all right.
Lake Mereldar. He smiled - the location of their first date. He’d met Stephanya while making a delivery of leather goods from Stratholme to the Crossing two years ago, a small delivery that turned out to be for her father. Phillius was upset that his uncle would send him all the way down to the dull little place for such a minor delivery. When he arrived at the McCallum homestead and found Stephanya there to greet him instead of her father, he annoyance increased even more so.
Phillius stood at the door of the homestead. “Excuse me?” He asked with more than a hint of irritation in his voice. “What do you mean ‘Not here’?”
“I’m sorry, I’ll repeat myself and refrain from using big words like ‘not’ and ‘here’,” Stephanya retorted. She was not about to be spoken to by some upstart apprentice. “My father went out. Nicked off. Went to see a man about a dog. Not … here! He should not be more than a couple of hours; as I said, you are more than welcome to remain here until he ret…”
“I have other deliveries to attend to,’ Phillius lied. “I can’t afford to wait around here until your father decides to wander on home. We specified today for the delivery and I need his signature so I can leave it here.”
Stephanya scowled. “Then take your delivery and begone. If you want his signature you’ll wait, if not, I have better things to do than standing here arguing something with you that can not be changed. Good day, sir!” She went to close the door.
Phillius quickly mulled over the situation. If he returned to Stratholme late his uncle would be angry. If he returned with the McCallum delivery his would be skinned alive. He decided to take the lesser of the two evils.
“Wait!” The delivery boy sighed and put his hand to prevent the door from closing completely. “I’ll … I’ll wait.”
Stephanya’s frown disappeared and she let the young man in.
The two spent next three hours talking and despite the heated introduction, found that they got on exceptionally well; Stephanya the headstrong and serious woman, Phillius the somewhat aloof joker. Opposite personalities that seemed to compliment each other perfectly. Phillius had realised what a beautiful young woman she was, in both her looks and attitude towards life. Her father came home and the delivery was made. Just before he left, he plucked up the courage to ask Stephanya if he could see her again.
“Well, I don’t know.” She responded rather coyly. ”You were very rude to earlier.” She liked the idea, but was going to make Phillius work for it.
He looked down at his feet. “Well, yes I suppose I was,” Phillius admitted, looking back up into her dark brown eyes. A breeze sprung up, blowing her fiery red hair into her face. “But like I told you, my uncle is a bit of a taskmaster, and I was irritated at the situation, not you. Can’t we put that ugly beginning behind us and, you know, start fresh? As …. friends.”
Stephanya returned the deep stare into Phillius’ eyes. In there she saw a sincerity that she had not seen in anyone else before. There was something special about the boy and she was drawn to him; that much she knew. She let a moment pass.
“Be here on Saturday afternoon.” She smiled. “I’ll prepare a picnic. We can go to Lake Mereldar.”
And so Phillius did, and that friendship soon blossomed into a deep love.
The young man came up on lake and sure enough, found Stephanya looking out over the lake, the late morning sun glistening off the surface of the crystal blue water. Day or night, the beauty of this place was second to none. He dismounted and tied the reigns to a tree and made his way over to her.
He could not remove the smile from his face, no matter how much he tried. His heart was beating madly and adrenaline coursed through his body.
“Stephanya?” The young woman turned, somewhat startled.
“Phillius? Wha … What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be at work?” She got to her feet and the two embraced, Phillius giving Stephanya a tender kiss on the forehead.
“Gathris is going to be fuming, you know that.” She scolded light-heartedly.
“I know, and It that’s his problem, not mine. All that matters is the here and now.” The two separated but remained holding hands.
“Actually UI am glad you are here. There’s something that I need to speak to you about.” She looked up into his eyes. He was excited about something, but it would have to wait. What she had to tell him was too important. He seemed to sense it and asked,
“What? Are you okay? What’s wrong?” Phillius was growing confused.
She gave him a sullen smile. “I’ve been thinking a lot about the future. Yours, mine, my family’s - everyone’s. Too much is happening at the moment, too much for me to sit around here and do nothing.”
Phillius furrowed his brows. “Steph, what are you talking about.”
She looked at him with apologetic eyes. “I’m going away for a while.”
~~~
A hooded figure moved slowly but gracefully through the crowds of the Stratholme market, carefully avoiding all contact with the city’s denizens. Stall owners called out to him as he walked past, eager to peddle their wears on him. The dark figure smiled inwardly. He did not need their fruits, their dairy products or their clothing. He did not need anything. And soon, he mused to himself, neither would they. Soon his master would be upon this city, and life in this city would ever be again.
But before that took place, a task needed to be completed - an item returned. The figure turned out of the market and headed uptown. The longer the item remained in one place, the more of an imprint it left, and as fortune would have it that the target had been stationary for an extended period and would be easy to find.
The figure continued his slow journey uptown, towards the house of an unsuspecting man by the name of Cartero.
~~~
IV
“Going away?” Phillius stood back and looked at Stephanya, his face clouded with confusion. “Going away where?”
Stephanya turned away from Phillus and looked out over Lake Mereldar. Such a beautiful place. “You have heard the stories of the Cult of the Damned.”
“Some Undead cult in western Lordaeron. Yeah, I’ve heard something about it. Everyone has.” Phillius shrugged. “What does that have to do with you?”
“It’s more than a cult, it’s a full-blown invasion. Battles are raging all across Lordaeron. Only last week Hearthglen was barely held against the Undead, against the Scourge. And rumour has it that Prince Arthas and the Silver Hand are on their way to Stratholme.”
Phillius was genuinely befuddled. This talk was not like Stephanya at all. “What? How do you know all this?”
Stephanya turned back to Phillius. “Yesterday, priests from the Monastery in Tirisfal Glades came by Corrin’s Crossing. They told us stories of horror and destruction that haven’t been heard of since the war with the Orcs. The Silver Hand are trying to stem the tide of incursion but defeats are more common than victories. Casualties are rising.” Stephanya turned back to the lake.
“Look at this place, Phillius.” She gestured to the landscape in front of her. ”Look at the beauty of the lake, breath deep the scent of the pines, listen to the songs of the birds. This place is alive, Phillius, and it must remain that way. The Silver Hand cannot be everywhere. Its every citizen’s duty to help keep the Undead at bay.”
Phillius frowned. “What are you saying?”
Stephanya continued staring out across the waters of the lake. “The monastery is calling out for people to help them with their efforts, to join the ranks of servants of the Light to help beat back the invasion. I am going to help them.”
“What?” Phillius could not believe his ears. He moved into her line of sight and lifted her chin, looking into her eyes. “You can’t be serious Steph, you have no military training.”
Stephanya returned the look. In her eyes, Phillius saw a look of determination that he knew all too well. She had made up her mind and any argument now would be a waste of breath.
“Force alone is not going to stop the Undead, that’s clear. Faith is what is needed. Faith in the Alliance, Faith in ourselves and Faith in Light. I’m going to train in the ways of a healer, Phillius. I am going to become a priestess of the Light.”
Phillius dropped his head for a moment and then looked back at her. “And what about us?” he asked.
Stephanya gave Phillius a warm smile and took hold of his hands. “I won’t throw away what we have, ever. It will only be for a short time, until this whole thing blows over, then I”ll be back. The Alliance has faced these kinds of tests before and come through. We’ll do so again.”
Phillius was not convinced. “Don’t go. I love you and I don’t want to lose you.”
“This is something I must do. For you, for my family, for Lordaeron. You won’t lose me, I promise. I just wish there was a way I could make you see that.”
Phillius reached into his pocket. “There is.”
He produced the felt box he picked up from Cartero. He got down on one knee, opened the box and presented it to her.
“Marry me, Steph.”
Stephanya gasped and brought her hands to her mouth. “Phil, I….”
“If you want to help fight the Undead then the Light knows that there’s no power in the world that will stop you. But I want to know that you’ll be coming back to me when this is all over.”
Phillius took the ring from the box and slid it on Stephanya’s left ring finger. She giggled. “It’s a little too big.”
Suddenly, as though the ring had heard her, the blue stones on the ring began to glow slightly, and the gold band began to shrink to snugly fit her finger. She looked at Phillius in astonishment.
“Where did you get this?”
Phillius smiled stood up. “It doesn’t matter. All that maters is that you and I will always together.”
The newly engaged couple embraced and engaged in a passionate kiss. When they parted, Stephanya spoke.
“You should to return to Stratholme.”
Phillius nodded. “When are you leaving?” He asked, heart aching.
“The priests are returning to the monastery tonight. I’m going with them.”
“Then this is goodbye.” Phillius felt a tear forming in his eye.
“No,” Stephanya said, tenderly touching his cheek and giving him a warm smile. “Not goodbye - I’ll see you again soon.”
