Sir Trilink, Stormwind Knight

[trilink]

((This is a very old story, containing much backstory and the main gist of Trilink's events as a living man, and what happened to him. It's mostly here to make way for Sunset, which is a project I love much more. ;P in case you're wondering, i'm putting it here with intent to continue Trilink's storyline after a long damn hiatus.))

The Half-Elven Knight.


Chapters ONE-THREE

Chapter One - Knighthood



Trilink Ehranus was on his knees, in Stormwind's Keep. There was much fanfare, and the grey stone walls were decorated with many and varying tapestries, but more often did hang the gold lion on a blue banner than anything else. Before Trilink stood Bolvar Fordragon, who, for the time being, was more or less the ruler of Stormwind, with the King missing, and his heir but a small child. On either side of Fordragon and Ehranus were rows of Stormwind's Guards, the Royal Footmen of this last great human nation. They stood shoulder-to-shoulder, ceremoniously. THeir shields were locked, and their swords held high, perpendicular to the ground.
Fordragon spoke with much authority in his tone as he addressed the armored man on his knees. "Trilink Nierendel Ehranus. It is my honor and the honor of Stormwind to grant you the title of Knight. You are now bound to the service of the Alliance and the Lion Throne." The steward of Stormwind tapped Trilink first on one shoulder, than the other, using the edge of an ornate weapon.
"Rise then, Sir Trilink EHranus, Knight of Stormwind, and the Alliance." As Trilink rose from his knees, there came a unified clamor as the Guardsmen slammed their swords against their shields in a salute of sorts.


Trilink was directed to another area, in the Keep. Others were being Knighted that day, Soldiers who had done well, who had fought for and honored the Alliance. There was a banquet to be held in the place Trilink was, after the ceremonies. Trilink had left early, clad in the Tabard of his new rank. The gold lion's large maw, on the tabard, signified Trilink's new position as an Officer, rather than an Enlisted Man. His destination was the small, comfortable home he had purchased some time ago- that purchase had left him poorer, but more comfortable. He shut and locked the door behind him, and soon removed his armour and weapons, stripping down to a plain white tunic and loose black cloth leggings.
He ascended the stairs, and went into his bedroom. He did not expect anyone to be there, but still he was disappointed when his fiancee, Constanse Al'Varay, was not there. She must be in Westfall, he thought. He sat himself down on the large, fancy bed, and put his head in his hands. He sighed, then sat up again, looking about the room, in thought.
"Father," said he, "I've made it. I am a Knight, just as you were." Trilink then lost himself in his own thoughts, thinking of how he'd come to Knighthood. He thought of the bloody battles he had fought, the Oaths he'd once made, the things he'd fought for. He knew rank was not the Honor it once was, but Trilink decided to bring honor to his new position - by acting truly as a Knight. He took from a table next to his bed an old parchment he'd once written; the Oaths he took to create himself a Knight, the man he wanted to be.

It read as follows:

"1. I hereby swear my Allegiance to Stormwind and her Allies. I shall defend them with all my strength.

2. I swear my loyatly to Lordaeron and Quel'Thalas. One's Homelands should be close to their hearts always.

3. I shall defend King Wrynn unto death.

4. The weak, poor, and the innocent. Never shall I look down on them. They are who we fight to defend.

5. Truth and Honor are inseperable.

6. To be a Coward is far worse than Death.

7. I will temper my blades, when I can do so, with mercy and humanity.

8. I will treat even enemies with Respect.

9. Loyalty should never be subject to Compromise.

10. I will not engage in acts if i know them to be wrong.

11. Family, Comrades, Nation, and Loved Ones- I will hold them above myself.

12. Boastfulness does not deserve Reknown. Actions and humility serve all better."



He had written this when he was but a Corporal, long ago. Smiling sadly, he realized that back then, things were a little different. Perhaps a little better. He was on the right path, back then, more so than now. Maybe he was more of a Knight, in those days. He silently swore to correct his ways, even if it was a long process. He would be the man he wanted to be. Even if it would take a lot of work. Even if it came at a price.
Trilink read the Oaths once more. He sighed and shook his head. He wondered if he'd kept them, or, rather, wondered just how far he had in fact strayed from them. Sometimes, Trilink had little time or need to worry about etiquette or good form while on the fields of battle. War was more than plentiful in these times.

Trilink had seen his share of war. Alterac Valley, Warsong Gulch, Arathi Basin. All over the Alliance lands in defense. All over Horde lands in raids. Not only did he fight Horde, but Myriad others. Demons. Beasts. The Burning Legion. The Scourge under the King of Lordaeron. The Silithids. War was abound in these times. He'd even fought several gods...

Trilink went to sleep that night with a sense of accomplishment, but also a sense of guilt and trepidation, and loneliness. Despair and hope were together, that night. Aye, he'd felt he'd accomplished a long time goal.

His battles, however, were only beginning, and the ones that were to come in the near future would change him, for good or ill, forever.

=============================================================================================================================

Ch. 2

Trilink woke early that morning. He went about a quick routine - food and water, hygiene, and other normal things. As soon as he was finished, he began to strap on his plate armour and weapons. He had duties to fulfill. The Half-Elven Knight was soon out the door, and on his way to the Stables to find his horse, Tionn. He was unaware of the cloaked figure watching him from the shadows..
"Ah, my Trilink," said the strange but beautiful voice, inaudible in its quiet Elven inflections but to their speaker. "A Knight. So much like his father. So much like Llanius.."
Valian Nierendel watched her son, her emotions mixed and unidentifiable. She was, after all, not completely sane. She was once a High Elf, of Quel'Thalas. Now, she was a Forsaken. She'd spent some time in the Scourge of the LIch King. She'd lost her mortal life four years ago, defending Quel'Thalas during its fall. She'd fought the Scourge tirelessly since her rise from the grave and her enlistment into the ranks of the Dark Lady. Lately, however, she spent most of her time watching. She kept close watch over her son, Trilink, and the people he associated with. She wasn't sure why, sometimes. Sometimes, she wasn't even sure quite who she was - confusion came easily in Undeath.
"So strong. So beautiful. Like Llanius was." She watched Trilink, and her heart ached. It ached with the pain of being FOrsaken, with the pain of the loss of Llanius, Knight of Lordaeron, her lover and the father of Trilink, her heart ached with the knowledge that she'd never really gotten to be his mother, bu tinstead, a distant mentor. She was the one who had trained him to be a Warrior. Also, her heart ached with the confusion in her feelings towards Trilink, the world around her, and herself.
She stared after Trilink fro a long time, even until he was nearly out of sight. She looked up again at the blonde Knight, and her eyes widened. A pale flame shone in them, one that had been ever-present since her Return from death. "Llanius! Wait!" She shouted it in Gutterspeak. She realized her mistake only seconds later, as her presence of mind returned. She pulled out her hearthstone, a smooth rounded rock that allowed its user to teleport home through magical means.

Valian Nierendel returned to the Undercity, mind racing with confusion, and her emotions mixed. She couldn't keep the image of Trilink out of her mind. "Llanius..." she said mournfully. She paused, then corrected herself. She had the look of a sad little girl on her face, that face that still held the beauty of her Sylvan race. "Trilink..." She looked at the ground, her face growing serious again. She wasn't sure what it was she was feeling, but she knew she had to see Trilink again, and soon...

****

Ch. 3

A blue-glowing spear flashed horizontally, meeting green orch-felesh, slicing bone, and decapitating its mark. The wielder, Sir Trilink Ehranus, Knight of Stormwind, was surrounded. A Tauren Shaman, a Forsaken Rogue, and a Troll Priest were his opponents. The Orc Warrior dead at his feet had been harassing the peasants collecting lumber at the mill in Arathi Basin. He had little hope of defeating them, but it barely mattered. He was a Knight, and A Warrior, and would not flee. "For Arathor!" he cried as he chased teh Priest. His spear found its mark, dealing heavy damage and interfering with the troll's magicks by silencing his chant. The troll surrounded itself with a bright golden aura, indicative of shielding magic. The rogue and the Shaman approached from behind, but as they grew near, Trilink let out an Intimidating Shout, causing them to take several steps back.
Trilink's spear slashed at the Priest's legs, hindering his movement. The shielded troll spoke a few words of magic, though, and Trilink was fleeing in fear, against his will.
His flight was stopped short by the shaman's mace colliding with his helm. He fell backwards, stunned, just enough to intensify the pain of the Rogue's dagger sliding beneath his armor and piercing one of his kidneys. The Warrior shouted in pain and feared that he was about to be defeated. He took a few feeble swings as the three Horde attacked him.
Just when Trilink thought the end was coming, he was surrounded by a green healing light. His wounds closed, and energy returned to weary limbs. He leapt back, so all his opponents were directly in front of him. The Horde still had the advantage though, and the Tauren Shaman, eager for bloodshed, raised his mace with a cry. Suddenly, he was surrounded by an intense pillar of purple-white energy. "Moonfire.." Trilink thought aloud. His unseen benefactor was a Druid. Fur and flesh melted from the Tauren, exposing and burning flesh, showing a few bones. The Tauren gave one mighty shout of pain and started a desperate chant in a strained voice, attempting to heal itself. A spear entered it's mouth, then, cutting its speaking short. Trilink' put his foot on the shaman's chest, and pushed, freeing his spear, which had gone all the way through the Tauren's head, and stuck out the back. The rogue and the priest readied themselves, the former slipping into the shadows.
The druid stepped up onto a hill, making him visible for the first time. The familiar Night LEf was impressive, in his Druidic garb, clutching a mace created from the World Tree, Nordrassil. "Lence Teergaiz!" Trilink shouted to his old Comrade, one he'd not seen in some time. "Good timing, old friend!" Trilink wanted to ask him about his return, but there was not time for this now. The Druid returned the hails with naught but a grin and a nod, and then the two moved as a pair against the remaining horde.
Trilink charged the priest first. He dragged his spear across his chest, leaving a wound. The troll turned to run, but was ensnared by the entangling roots of the Druid Lence. Lence's moonfire enveloped the rogue as it stepped out of the shadows behind Trilink. The Warrior warrior buried his spear, with a thrust, into the heart fo the Troll priest, finally killing it. The undaunted Forsaken stabbed Tril, who turned 'round quickly. The Forsaken smirked with his rotten features as he slammed the hilts of his daggers into Trilink's eyes, blinding him for a momenment, and leaving him unable to fight properly. The rogue raised his weapons, preparing for a coup de grace on Trilink...

He was promptly and horribly mauled by a gigantic bear. The large beast easily crushed the corpse, ending its undeath with painless speed. It was Lence in bear form. Druids had such strange powers..

Trilink soon recovered his sight, and Lence returned to the form of a Kaldorei, The former smiled. "Sir Trilink, is it? " He gave a mock salute and shook his head. "Trying to get yourself killed again, hm?" Trilink, being without much homor, and more serious than his companion, merely shrugged. "We have the Horde on the run from the Basin, for now. I could not give up any ground." Trilink gave a slight bow to Lence. "Glad you showed up though, make no mistake." Trilink scooped up his large crate of supplies, and left the Basin, with Lence beside him. The battle had gone well, considering...

The two left, in conversation. They spoke for a short time, and then parted ways. Trilink would head back to Stormwind.

****

It was evening. Trilink Ehranus was just returning home, from a day at war. He'd fought for the League of Arathor in Arathi Basin, discussed tactics with some other officers, gone to the PLaguelands to fight for the Argent Dawn, and made a brief visit to Silithus to fight against the Silithid, the growing threat in that part of the world.
Now, he would rest, alone in his house, and perhaps reflect on the day.

He'd just become a Knight, and was learning the duties and responsibilities of that title. He hadn't yet commanded an army, but knew he may someday be placed in command of trooops. This didn't bother him; in fact he looked forward to it. He also thought that he would have to defend the City more often, and that Private citizens should be his concern when they needed it. Mostly, though, he was a Warrior-Knight, and it was his duty to fight the enemies of Stormwind and the Alliance, to do it with honor and to do it and achieve success. The duties of a Knight were not so different from his own normal conduct- he'd always been a Knight, of sorts.
Trilink sighed again at the bed left empty that night. He decided that soon, if he had time, he would see his fiancee, Constanse Al'Varay, in Westfall. He wondered, though, how it would turn out. She'd been avoiding him, he thought. "Tomorrow," He said to himself, "I will come for you..." He would resign himself to more domestic duties for awhile, perhaps.


That night, his peaceful sleep was, as it always was if he was troubled, by a nightmare. This one was recurring, and he never remembered hit happened the next morning. It was, in fact, a long-suppressed memory from his childhood...

The small boy, Trilink kneeled over the tiny prone feminine form. Trilink looked to be 2 or so, and the girl no older than five or six. The girl's face was white, and her lips blue. "Sareyna!" THe boy's shrill voice shattered the sickening stillness and silence of the scene. Mom and dad.. where were they?! He needed them... "Sareyna! Wake up!" Desperation made his voice weak. Tears streamed down his face, eyes wide with fear and concenr. Gently, he shook the girl. "Sareyna! Sister! Wake up! Please, wake up..." He shook her harder. "Sister.. I need you.. sister..!"


Trilink woke hours later, in a cold sweat. He wasn't sure why. He never remembered. This time, however, he had the haunting feeling that something was wrong... something was missing. He felt strange, and he would be bothered by it for quite some time to follow.

****

Valian Nierendel sat quietly in a room in Gallow's End Tavern in Brill. She wasn't usually one for rooms- in life or in Undeath, but she wanted one now. Her mind was on Trilink, and his father Llanius. The more she thought about them, the more her mind had trouble discerning the difference between the two. She'd even called him Llanius in front of Constanse who she'd mistaken first for Cerisce, Llanius' wife, and the woman Trilink though twas his mother until recent months, and later for Sareyna, daughter of Llanius and Cerice, who'd died at a young age.
Valian had found herself watching Trilink for some time, lately; Trilink and also his friends, with growing frequency. The more she watched him, the more she thought about him, and the more she thought about him, the more strange her thoughts became. Sometimes everything in her mind was accurate. Sometimes her mind used Llanius and Trilink interchangeably. Sometimes she thought he was truly the son of Cerice! But mostly, she just thought about him, obsessively. Even when her mind was otherwise sharp and clear.
The forsaken High Elf was clad in naught but black mageweave on her chest, legs, and feet. She'd bought it on a whim. She hadn't, until now, thought much about her appearance since Undeath. She was remarkably beautiful, and very well preserved for a Forsaken. She stood in front of a full-body mirror, examining her body for the first time.
She was not quite the unsurpassed beauty that she was in life, but, for the first time as a Forsaken, she thought herself beautifu. She liked the revealing meageweave. She liked the way her feminine features were still firm and perfect. She wished Trilink could see her like this.. see her and think her beautiful again. She looked over to the poile of armour and weapons- usually she wore ornate Elven chain mail under a flowing black cloak. her greatwsord, upon command, would glow with fire like that in her eyes. She must have been more frightening than attractive..
Valian traced her form with both hands. She was exploring her dead body.. and in the mirror wathcing herself do so. Her hands cupped her breasts, and she squeezed them gently, feeling every detail. They were still firm. Her stomach and arms were still muscular, she wasn't missing flesh like other Forsaken. Her hand travelled lower...
She wondered if everything worked as it had, if she could be aroused, if she could still make love...
She took herself into a memory, a fantasy, as her hand slid under her leggings and undergarments..

The soft bed was covered in silk sheeds, upon them were rose petals. The bed was surrounded by candles, which softly glowed, barely illuminating the room...

She slid her fingers down to her slit. She rubbed the labia slowly, gently, just examining at first measuring and enjoying the sensation of it.

Between the sheets were two lovers. Valian lie atop her lover, a Blonde, muscular Knight...

There was sensation. Pleasure. She had not felt this since her Undeath. She felt hot. As she continued to remember, and fantasize, she became aroused. She slid two fingers inside herself for the first time in so long..

"I love you, Llanius." "I love yo, Valian," the man replied. Furhter banter was cut off by the rhythmic movement of the two bodies together. Valian breathed heavily, in gasps and moans, as Llanius moved inside her, thrusting, pumping, filling her up. He grunted loudly and she matched and surpassed him in her moans of pleasure. He was so perfect..

Her two fingers were thrusting inside her at a feverish pace now. It felt so good. She hadn't been touched in so long. She dropped her leggings and bared herself. With her left hand, she parted the folds of her skin, and with her right, found her clitoris and begin to truly pleasure herself. Her two long, dextrous Elven fingers were perfect for it. She made quiet sounds of ecstacy.

"Don't stop!" she cried this in Elvish. The two lovers were moving together, fast and hard. She was about to explode, pressure building inside her. She felt waves of pleasure wash over her as she made love . In and out, the blonde Knight kept going with great stamina. She couldn't stop moaning and screaming...

She felt herself growing hotter and wetter. She sped up. She kept going, rubbing and pleasuring her clit, then sliding fingers deep into her pussy and pumping and sliding and thrusting with them. Her head tilted back slightly as she did so. But it wasn't quite enough.. she couldn't quite reach her peak. She needed something more. In her passion, she allowed her mind to go to that one last forbidden place.. her true desire, her true lust. In her need for release, she let her mind go free.

The Blonde Knight kept calling out her name in the throes of passion. She kept shouting and screaming as he slammed and pumped into her, his long, hard cock filling her up and making her whole. She grinded and pumped her hips against him, returning his fervor with her own. The two shouted and moaned and moved as one. She'd never felt anything quite so good, so perfect. She had hit her peak, and was about ready to orgasm. Her muscles tightened around the hard member inside her. They fucked harder and faster, screams filling the room as they gave all they had. Soon she felt pre-cum inside her, at a moan from her lover. She pushed her hips onto him as he pushed into her. When she could hold it in no longer, she finally got her orgasm, juices flowing out of her as she screamed the name of the man who gave her soo much pleasure..


"Ohhhh! [/i] Trilink!" [/i]


Her fantasy had ended. She fell back onto the bed, catching her breath after the orgasm. She'd actually had an orgasm. It had been longer than she could remember. It felt so good. The floor, her legs, her hands.. all were wet with the product of her fantasies.
She felt guilt at once however, for what she'd thought and felt. She really -did- want Trilink. Her son. Her student. She was only now able to admit it. She had to see him..

She had to see Trilink...

[trilink]

Chapters 4, 5, and 6 are taken from an RP with Constanse. They are not relevant in any way, now. Here are 7-9

Ch. VII


Several days had passed. Trilink and Constanse had, somehow, been once again seperated. After Trilink's encounter with Zackeriah, brother of Zara Thaleon, he had rested for awhile. It was a strange experience.

Now, it was morning. The morning that always came quickly after a hard day. Sunlight streamead in through the windows, waking Trilink Ehranus from his slumber. The morning rituals followed; breakfast, water, hygiene, etc. As soon as he was done, he had strapped on his weapons and plates.

After all that had happened, little had changed. He was still a Knight. Ehranus opened his front door, and was immediately greeted by the sounds of bustle and activity that was the Trade District of Stormwind City. Trilink shut his eyes and sighed, leaning against the doorway and folding his arms across his chest.

He paused, sighed once more, and then left for the Keep, to receive any orders for the day.

~

Valian Nierendel sat still, alone in the woods. She wasn't just still... she was nearly inanimate. She didn't breathe or blink or fidget. She just sat, a non-living thing in a forest abundant with life of all kind.
Valian's mind was occupied. It was on her son, Trilink Ehranus. She thought about him all the time, now, obsessively. Her state of mind, however, was in constant flux.
One moment, she'd be completely sane and normal, perceiving things as they truly were. She was Forsaken, once a High Elf. She'd loved a Knight named Llanius, a Knight of Lordaeron, and had a child with him, Trilink. She'd raised and mentored the boy without him knowing he was her son, or even that he wasn't completely human.
The next, she'd be confused. Sometimes she wasn't sure when it was or who she was. She'd mistake Trilink for Llanius.
There was one constant, though. Trilink. As wrong as it was, as wrong as she sometimes understood it was, she wanted him. Yearned for him. She lusted for him and wanted him to be hers. her son, Trilink, was the first man she'd desired in many many years.
She felt guilty excitement each time she thought of him. She lusted for him, wanted him to be hers. She needed to see him. Even if to just talk. She needed to. She would.. soon...

~

The evening had come, and Trilink Ehranus had returned from Arathi basin, where he'd been ordered to. He'd seen victory and defeat both, and had slain hundreds.
Now, he sat alone in his room, on his bed, bare-chested. Thousands of very small, very neat scars lined both his arms.
Trilink once honored each enemy Horde he'd slain in honorable battle by marking each kill on his flesh.
NOw, it was time to do so again. the cuts came now on his chest and stomach, shallow, short, and precise. It didn't take long, though,until Trilink was completely covered in his own blood. He rememberd his enemies as he made each cut..

The small dagger in his hand drew accross his chest. This one was in Warsong Gulch...

An inexperienced but enthusiastic Orc Warrior attacked Trilink. The confident Half-Elf didn't even bother to draw his weapon. he side-stepped the first clumsy thrust, grabbed the Orc's hand, pulled it back hard and fast, snapping his wrist and disarming him. Then Trilink had moved behind him, kicked the back of his knees hard, and forced him to kneel. THen Trilink put him in a headlock of sorts, and wrenchec the Orc until his neck snapped.


Many more cuts. Many more memories...


A Tauren Shaman, female. Arathi Basin. He was a Sergeant Major, then. They were alone on a hill. He had bowed to her. She placed a totem. Trilink leapt at her, spear in hand, and began to deliver most vicious blows. The shaman fought well, but seemed to not know her routine well. Trilink overhwlemed her and sent her to the grave, with one mortal strike, his spear vertically rending her from crown to groin...

A handful of cuts become dozens. Dozens became scores, then hundreds. He had done this before, but the amount of blood was still quite terrible. He bled until his sheeds and bed stained crimson, and there were tiny pools on the floor.

He continued cutting, until hundreds became thousands. he was now only alive because of healing potions.

Finally, he made the last cut. He could not, as before, remember the last kill. He couldn't concentrate, and passed out into unconsciousness. The scars had been made, and he had again honored all his fallen foes. They would live as long as he did, as marks in his skin. He shared his pain and sacrifice for them.

It was also a sick trophy of sorts.

Trilink didn't wake up for a long time. There was no one to find and help him this time...

****


Chapter VIII - Allies

Trilink Ehranus stood on the fields of battle, once again. Days had passed since the last battle he'd had, since the ritual scarring, since the fall of the Offworlder, and his meeting with Constanse.

Now he stood, alone, facing several Horde. They came at him time and again, in waves, and each time, they fell. His spear danced and flashed, like eloquent poetry he moved, damning his opponents to the Twisting Nether.

Their attack on Alliance lands would fail. Sir Ehranus, Knight of Stormwind, would see to that, even if he had to do so alone.

For hours he repelled the raiding party, dealing out much death and destruction, but still accepting blows as he fought. As time passed, he was gradually becoming overwhelmed. Still, he would not give ground.

Dents and tears became evident in his armour. He had a few nasty wounds, bruises and cuts, but he would not stop fighting. Finally, he was beaten. The Horde were upon him. He accepted the beating and the violence stoically, although he struggled mightily, not wanting the end to come. It was not long, though, until the Stromgarde Cavalry came, for Trilink had alerted the League of Arathor the minute he'd seen the raid headed his way.

At the Vanguard of the Cavalry rode Prince Trollbane, son of the great Hero of the second war, Danath Trollbane. The great Soldier and his cavalry ran over the Horde with ease and precision. The battle was won, and Trilink was alright.

~

Later that evening, Trilink stood with Prince Trollbane in the ruined capital of Stromgarde. His wounds had recovered, but he was still a little sore.

"Trilink Ehranus. You're a Knight, hm?" Trilink nodded his affirmative. "Aye, I am such. In service of the Lion Throne." Trollbane shook his head. "The Lion throne..." he echoed it as if he was considering something. Trilink eyed him with a slight frown, but said nothing. He sensed that Trollbane felt betrayed by Stormwind, for such little aid was sent to the besieged people of the Arathi Highlands.

"Do you know what makes a Knight great, Trilink Ehranus? Or any leader?" Trilink replied as best he could. "Honor. Belief. Conviction." The young Prince looked Trilink in the eyes and gave his rebuttal. "This, and more. Consider the battles of Turalyon. Of Lightbringer or Lothar. Or my father." Trilink pondered them quietly, knowing the Prince was not done. "They never fought alone. Always with great armies were they. Trilink, you're a fine Knight, brave and strong, but, you are useless if you go and die alone. The Alliance doesn't need you if you want to be that much of a Hero."
Trollbane spoke with wisdom, but without tact. He was blunt, for he realized Trilink needed that if the point was to be made. "Sir Ehranus, of Stormwind. Will you heed advice, were I to give it?" Trilink spoke without hesitation. "Of course, Prince of Strom." Trilink intentionally used the old name of the Capital of Arathor. Trollbane's eyes widened slightly, but then they narrowed as he spoke his advice.
"Don't fight alone. Find allies. A group to fight with. Don't be the hero. Be a Knight. A soldier. You don't need to lead. Follow if you must. Trust me. Seek out the others in the Alliance. The others of rank in the Alliance armies. Find them, and fight alongside them. Otherwise, you shall all fail." Trollbane eyed him with great seriousness.

"What makes the greatest Knight, Trilink? I'll tell you. The greatest allies. Find the very strongest among the Alliance. Your allegiance will lie there." He paused. "That is, if a Lion Knight would heed the words of Stromgarde's Prince."

Trilink had heard him. He left Stromgarde that night, and returned home, to Stormwind City. He considered it all that night, and he knew who the strongest was. He knew where he needed to be. And his most trusted comrade was already among them.

When Lence Teergaiz offered Trilink a place in The Assault, the most organized and strongest soldiers who brought terror to the Horde on the battlefield, he accepted without hesitation.

Memories of the golden-clad soldiers he'd admired long ago in Alterac Valley filled his mind, as he joined the ranks of this army, and he vowed to himself he'd prove himself to them, and all.

It was his duty. He was, after all, just another Knight.

[trilink]

Chapter X - For the Future



Stormwind City was quiet at night. There was little sound, save the normal ambience of night. Crickets, owls, and other such night creatures played a lullaby for all those who would sleep. The hoofbeats or sound of metal-shod boots upon cobblestone were heard occasionally, as the faithful Guardsmen patrolled their beloved city. It was around the time of Hallow's End, and the moon was round and full.
Trilink was alone that night, sitting on his roof and just watching Stormwind, or gazing at the moon. He was just reflecting on the recent occurences, brooding in a way. He'd just found some allies, but had heart tell that his guild was already falling apart. He shook his head with a sigh. He was used to disappointment. There were other things on his mind though; the constant war and duty that was Knighthood, being among them.
He was constantly trying to figure out just what it meant to be a Knight, for in the modern Alliance, honor was defined as how many Horde you killed in cold blood. This was not true honor, and Trilink knew it. That path was one he'd have to forge and follow on his own.
Trilink wondered how he could best serve Stormwind. He knew he would have to keep fighting the Legion and the Scourge, and the Silithid as well. He just wondered where in all of this the Horde fit into it. Recent times had lead him to some doubt about where and when to fight the Horde. They were no longer an unconditional enemy, though they still were his enemies.
He just nodded to himself, with a sigh. He would continue to do things as he'd done recently. He'd fight in the places where battles were justified or needed, and change that as he required. He wore the badge of the Argent Dawn on his tabard, for his battle had been with Scourge long before he'd ever seen an Orc. His duties did not conflict, though, in his own mind.


Trilink decided he'd go seek council on how to aid the Alliance, from a man he'd just met and looked up to a little. He hopped down from his rooftop and wandered towards the Stables. On the way from his home, he passed the Orphanage, where slept the youngsters of Stormwind, whose parents had likely been slain in the Third War, lost to the Scourge. Stormwind was a haven for refugees of all kind- most of the people there were not originally from the area. Stormwind was rebuilt. Many citizens hailed from the former territories of Lordaeron.
Looking at the orphans, Trilink found himself wondering what kind of future they would have. Would they grow up to be peasants? Soldiers? Would they ever find love? Would they become embittered and end up like the Defias? Trilink frowned, keeping these thoughts tucked away in the back of his mind as he walked towards the Dwarven District.
The Tram ride was swift, and before he knew it he was in Ironforge. As he walked through the streets of Ironforge towards the Gryphon master, he smiled to himself at something he felt. Disappointment. He had held a little hope that a certain Troll Rogue would've attacked him in the Tram. He did so want a rematch!

He reached the Gryphon master in good time, and soon set out for the Arathi Highlands. He landed in Refuge point, and set out immediately west, on foot. His strides were long, and light. He was headed towards Stromgarde Keep, and he reached it without incident. He went towards the Quarter protected by the remnant of the Stromgarde military, and was met with salutes and waves. He had fought for them many times, by now.
He headed for Prince Trollbane, and greeted him with a low bow. "Prince Trollbane. Sir Trilink Ehranus, at your service."
Trollbane looked at Trilink and nodded. He spoke gruffly. "What brings you here at this hour, Ehranus?" He was to the point, polite in his own way, and not unkind, but rather blunt.
Trilink spoke quickly. "I seek council, m'lord." Galen Trollbane, Prince of Stromgarde frowned slightly. "What council could I give you, Lion's Knight?" Galen Trollbane, who dwelt in the shadow of his heroic father, the once mighty Strom, and the Second War, did not regard himself as a wise man, although he was, despite his young age and terrible luck.
"I wish to ask of you, what is the true role of a Knight?" Trollbane regarded the question with his usual grim expression, then shrugged slightly. "The true role of a Knight? You are supposed to be a leader of soldiers. Lead them by example and wisdom. Be the first into battle and the last to leave. Defend your lands with honor, even when they are destroyed... train soldiers to fight better. It's about giving, Trilink."
Trilink nodded eagerly. "Train troops... I've not done that. The others I do tirelessly, but I've not trained anyone." Galen Trollbane smiled grimly. "Then do so. Stormwind is training their soldiers to be little more than vicious mercenaries..."
Trilink shrugged. "There is too much promise of wealth and power elsewhere. If the Alliance did not offer simple rewards for simple actions, we'd find all our ranks depleted, and men on all the corners of the realm seeking personal gain. It is necessary, if despicable, to harbour these mercenaries..."
Galen shook his head. "Mercenaries wouldn't have won the Wars, you know? Honor and conviction win battles." Trilink nodded his agreement. "Go, Trilink, and teach what you can to some recruits." He paused. "That is, if you truly intend to heed my council, Lion's Knight." Trilink just nodded, not asking him about his strange wording. "I will do my best, Prince Trollbane."
Prince Galen Trollbane laughed slightly. "Stop calling me that, Trilink." He gestured emphatically around him, to the ruins of Stromgarde. "Prince of -what-?" Trilink remained quiet. Trollbane sighed. "Just call me Galen." Trilink nodded earnestly. "Galen, then. Be safe." Trilink and Galen parted ways, Galen to run the resistance, Trilink to return home to Stormwind, eager to train some youngsters or recruits of some kind, to aid the cause of Stormwind's future.



That next morning, Trilink walked the streets of Stormwind City, dressed in full plates, tabard, and his spear on his back. His red cape trailed behind him, the cape only a Soldier ranked Sergeant or higher could attain. He wandered about, mind on what he could do. He considered leaving for Northshire Abbey, but then a thought dawned upon him. The orphanage... who better to teach the ways of Honor and Chivalry, morality and decency, then children? Who needed it more than them? He walked into the orphanage, without stopping or slowing.
The matron looked apprasingly at the Knight as he entered her Orphanage. "A Knight? What can I do for you, m'lord?" Her slight accent was far from endearing, but Trilink bowed with respect. Before he could speak, the Matron's eyes lit up and she spoke with eagerness in her voice. "Perhaps you are considering adoption!?" Trilink shook his head. "No.. I'm afraid not, my lady. I have something else in mind though." The matron stood waiting for him to elaborate. "I will provide these youngsters with training."
THe Orphanage matron scoffed indignantly. "I'll not 'ave ye trainin' me kiddies 'ere how to kill an' fight. That ain't what I call civilized." Trilink raised a palm and shook his head. "I will train them how to defend themselves. More importantly, m'lady, I will teach them about the old ways. About honor, chivalry, decency. I will do my best to make them into the kind of people the world rarely sees anymore." The matron still looked unconvinced. "Do you remember the Knights of the Silver Hand? The true ones, before the Scourge came?" The woman nodded. She was from Lordaeron as well. "We need to have good people again. Those with conviction, instead of greed..."

Their conversation lasted for a long time, and eventually they reached an agreement. Trilink would be able to visit the Orphanage and train any willing children for as long as he wanted. He would pay the matron for it, and she was pleased. He would soon visit the eager children, and begin to train them, in hopes of forging a brighter future for them, and the Alliance. Soon, it would begin. He made his way back towards the Keep, with renewed vigor. He would fight today, and teach tomorrow.

[trilink]

XI and XII


CHAPTER XI - Loss


"Please, sister! Wake up!" She wasn't moving... she was so still... so cold. He held her tightly and his tears fell on her. "Sareyna!" The small boy shook her. "Wake up... I need you... I love you." He was frantic, panicked. Sareyna was all he had. His big sister. The only person that was there for him, always there for him... only him. He was too young to understand what was happening, but he was old enough to be terrified.
He just shook her, crying on her white nightgown. The girl was still. She wasn't moving, wasn't breathing. "Sareyna.. get up!" He shook her one last time, then finally he stood, and ran towards the great Temple of the Light in Lordaeron's capital city, the city of their dwelling.
The metropolis seemed endless as he ran. His little legs couldn't take him fast enough. People passed by with apathy, ignoring the crying, desperate child as he shouted and cried for help.

Finally, he burst through the doors of the Temple. A service was in session, some old priest giving a sermon on the dangers of growing dispassionate. Trilink was too young then to understand irony...

"Help! My sister won't get up!" The shrill voice of the tiny boy interrupted the sermon, and all heads turned to look at him. "She's blue and cold and won't get up! Help me!"
The old priest just looked with contempt at the boy, annoyed at the interruption to his service. "Take your games outside the church, child." The priest didn't even believe him!
The commonfolk sat still, not wanting to contradict their priest in his disbelief of the child. Trilink shouted at them. "I'll tell my Father! You'll all be sorry." The priest looked hard at Trilink for a moment, then raised both brows. "Young Master Ehranus...?"

Healers were at the Ehranus home in moments. Llanius and Cerice were not home. Llanius was too far to be reached, waging battle in some southern land. Cerice was just... not home. No one knew where to find her.

Sareyna had been beyond saving. Her sickness came quick and hard, and there was naught anyone could do. A kindly Paladin among the healers took Trilink, sat him down, and explained what had transpired. He had learned about death from a faceless Paladin. The man was kind and easy, but still, Trilink could not stand it.


Sareyna was his big sister. The only person who loved him, was there for him, and only him, all the time. He needed her... and she was gone.

He couldn't stop crying or screaming...


He awoke suddenly, in a cold sweat. He was awakened by the sound of his own shouting. He was surprised, for he felt tears on his face, which was hot and reddened. He caught his breath for awhile, then shook his head. Once again, he did not remember the dream, which was recurrent. It had, however, in recent days, lasted longer and been more complete... and left him more affected in the morning.

Was it morning, indeed? Trilink opened the shutters to the window of his second-story room in his house. He expected sunlight, but was greeted instead by much gentler moonlight, the blue-silver lumination calming him slightly. The sounds of the night caused him to shut his eyes as he sighed to himself. What was it that continued to bother him in the night?

He shut his eyes and focused hard. He tried to recall the dream, but received only brief flashes. An early memory of the orphanage he was taken to, dwelt he there for but a fortnight before Valian Nierendel, the mysterious High Elf, had whisked him off to Quel'Thalas, explaining their relationship without falsehood, but avoiding certain truths.
He kept focusing. He allowed some magic into it, letting the life of the planet enter him, a slight magic he learned through meditation. More memories entered his mind. The warm embrace of someone.. someone who loved him. Not a mother. Not an adult. Another child, but not to him, then.
He was getting closer. Trilink was unraveling the mystery of his dreams. He felt the guilt, the despair, the unimaginable grief at losing her. He didn't know what had happened, didn't remember Sareyna, or losing her, but he felt it. He sat back on the bed, hard. He felt overwhelmed with emotion.

What was he repressing?

He didn't know. He surrounded himself once more with magic. He shut his eyes and concentrated. Nothing more came. He had to know, though. What had he lost? What did he force himself to forget? Why did he feel so much loss?

He lie down and shut his eyes tightly... maybe he just had to dream again... and he fell asleep. His sleep was dreamless, peaceful almost.


When he awoke the next morning, the feelings were gone, but the memory of them was not. It seemed distant, however, and he pushed it out of his mind. He did resolve to seek answers, though. Only one person knew his past better than him.

It was nearing time to see Valian Nierendel once more.


****

Ever was she stalking, always was she watching. Never in the open; she was of the shadows. She watched. ALways watching. Odd as this occupation might've been, odder still was the fact that the one she trailed, the one whom she spied upon, knew she was there. Aye, he knew she watched, even expected her to. The pinnacle of this oddity was that neither Trilink nor Valian could bring themselves to break the strange ritual and speak to the other.
Trilink's reasons were quite valid. Firstly, he knew only that he was watched by her from time to time. He didn't always know where or when she'd be around. Also, she was a Forsaken, and Undead High Elf, making her akward to approach. Lastly, she was both his mentor and mother, the latter bit of information recent knews to him. He'd found out after he'd met her as her Forsaken incarnation.
Valian, on the other hand, was not so logical in her actions.. She watched him because he was her son and she was his mother, or because he was her student, or even sometimes she had him confused with Llanius, his father.
Mostly, she watched him for a worse reason, this one being perhaps why it was she was so reluctant to reveal herself to Trilink... her intense, almost passionately lustful desire for him. The fourteen years they'd spent together in Quel'Thalas had not been a mother/son relationship. Trilink had been raised thinking Llanius' human wife, Cerice, was his mother. As such, Trilink and Valian had always interacted in a different way.
The things she thought and felt usually didn't bother her, until she was in a normal state of mind. Then, Valian would be overcome with either lust or guilt, or a mixture of both. She only knew she wanted Trilink. She didn't quite know why.
The time was coming again, however, for the two of them to meet again. Both had decided to do so, for their own reasons. Trilink wanted to ask Valian many questions about many things, among them, his past. Something he'd repressed had caused him disturbing dreams. Valian just wanted to see him at all.
Trilink was followed until he entered his home in Stormwind City. She paused and took a deep breath (an unnatural thing for her to do, considering she was no longer alive and did not require breathing) then she entered behind him.
Trilink was just sitting in a chair, staring into the crackling fireplace. It was somewhat obvious that he was brooding about something - what that might be, she didn't know. He'd heard Valian enter but didn't move, wanting to see what she would do.
Valian Nierendel slowly walked up behind Trilink. She was dressed in her normal garb, a black cloak over gleaming mail, sword at her side. She stood behind him and slightly to his right, over his shoulder. "Trilink." She spoke this single word, his name, and waited for his response. Valian's voice was as it had been in life... musical, elegant, beautiful. Her appearance was much the same as well, save the pale skin, darkened lips, and gleaming eyes. To some, she may have been still more beautiful than before.
There was an uncomfortable pause, then Trilink stood up, turned around, and faced her. "Valian." He still didn't, or maybe couldn't, think of her as his mother. She had long been only his beloved mentor. Still, everything about it was uncomfortable, for myriad reasons.
Trilink was dressed in comfortable black clothing. HIs plates hung on the wall, along with his weapons. His appearance was not terribly telling of his Elven blood- he lookked more like his human father. Yet, were one to look at Valian and Trilink together, it became clearer. Trilink's features were rather fair, like a Quel'Dorei. His eyes were very Elven, and his golden hair, while the colour of his father's, was fine and soft, more like an Elf's. His hands wre long and dextrous, like the Elves, and would have seemed effeminate if not for the rough callouses that came with his trade.
Valian and Trilink just looked at each other, their eyes meeting. Both of them had plenty to say, but neither knew quite how to say it. The silence was broken as Trilink asked her to sit, and the both of them sat down in wooden chairs, facing the fireplace.
"What have you come to say, Valian Nierendel? I know you have long watched and followed me. What is it?" Valian just looked at Trilink for awhile. She was not surprised at Trilink's bluntness. She merely disregarded his question in return. "You're a Knight." Trilink just nodded, although he allowed a little pride to show. "Knight Lieutenant, actually, as of today.." Valian interrupted. "A Knight. Like your father." There was a pause, as Trilink looked into her eyes for awhile, questioningly. "I am quite proud of you, my student. My son..." Trilink just nodded again, and turned his gaze back to the fire.
Valian was quiet for awhile, until again she spoke first. "Tell me about things, Trilink. What news?" Trilink just shook his head for awhile, then sighed. "War, Valian. I am a Knight, so I do a lot of fighting. With everything. All the enemies. I like to think I do it well." Valian nodded. "You are as fine a Warrior as any, Trilink. Tell me about you, though. How are you? What goes on 'tween you and that Constanse?"
Trilink hesitated before he replied. "I don't have much of a personal life, Valian. I've lost closeness with most of those I cared for."
"Including Constanse?" Valian's tone was sincere.
"Especially Constanse." Trilink's tone matched hers.
"What about your friends? What about the guilds?"
"I walk a solitary path again, m'lady."
"Perhaps you were meant to."
"Perhaps."
"Are you lonely?"
"I am."
"Why do you not seek to alleviate this ill?"
"I have duty to attend to first. Besides... I don't know where to go or who to go to." Trilink looked sadly at Valian, then back at the fire. "I love a few people, but sometimes i feel it futile." He shrugged. "Besides, I don't make it easy for them, e'en if people do grow distant."
Valian shrugged. "Constanse does love you." Valian was hesitant to speak on her behalf, for she truly disliked Constanse and saw her unworthy. However, she continued. "She just isn't worthy of you, the selfish wench. She is alright, you know. She's not harmed. She just avoids you."
Trilink just nodded. "I know she does."
Valian sighed. "Do you know why?"
"No."
"Why don't you seek her out?"
"Why do you press the issue? What knowledge do you seek...?"
"I care for you, Trilink. I don't want to see you make yourself miserable over her. When will you give up and move on?"
Trilink shook his head. "There's nowhere to move on to, anyway." He avoided the questions about Constanse herself, and their relationship.
"You have to at least try."
"That's what my friend said."
"A friend, huh?"
Trilink nodded.
"Oh well. Trilink. Heed my words. Don't lose yourself to war. To the image of Knighthood you hold. Or to your own despair. There's always something or someone worth fighting for. Trust in my words. Even I continue to fight."
"I don't really understand the Forsaken."
"Nor do I, dear Trilink."

There was another long pause, as they both considered what to speak about. They did speak at length, about everything. Current events, their experiences in battle, and in other things. They only avoided deep personal feelings, or certain topics. They spoke for hours, updating each other on everything, reminiscing about Quel'Thalas, etc. Trilink told Valian about his plans to train students, about his short-lived time with The Assault, about the fighting... she told him about the innerworkings of the Forsaken she'd learned, about the Horde, about herself, about the things she'd seen as she watched people. She told him about her meeting with Constanse.
Time passed quickly, and soon the day was gone. Trilink would have to teach the orphans the next day. After awhile, Valian left Trilink with a promise.

"I'll come back soon, Trilink. Then we will speak of more serious things." She kissed him on the cheek, then disappeared, leaving Trilink to wonder and wait. She was thrilled to have seen him, and he was relieved to have seen her again; it was something he had to do.

He still hadn't gotten around to asking about his past. She still had only spoken casually. There was still much to be done...

[trilink]

XIII -

Valian Nierendel walked the streets of the Undercity. She wasn't truly looking for anything, and yet, look she did. Her black cloak was drawn tightly around her, hiding most of her features as she wandered the cobblestones of the dark city. The streets were lit a ghastly green, though Valian needed none to see.
The Undercity was a strange marvel. It was brilliantly built, and even the Undead Elf had to admit it had a strange beauty or appeal to it. The city was alive, though, to any who knew it, as quiet and abandoned as it sometimes felt.
Much happened in the Undercity, and most of it behind closed doors. It was a city of evil, in truth, for to be Forsaken was to be Undead with marginally free will. Often this gave way to insanity or recklessly decadent behaviour.
If one knew where to look, there could be found places of torture, apothecaries where plagues were created, pits where the foulest rituals took place, brothels where the most wicked and vile orgies were held, and all kinds of innumerable horrors occured.
The Undercity was the darkest of cities, aye, but it was also undeniably beautiful in its mystery. The streets that Valian walked were out of the way of main traffic, rather hidden in the outskirts. Many forboding alleys beckoned from either side of the streets.
Valian's attention was soon caught by a lone building. She had never seen it before, as she was in the least used parts of the city. It was almost non-descript save for the twin gargoyles that adorned the roof. She stared close at them, for in the Undercity, she could not be sure they were only ornamentation. She would have to be careful.
She moved closer to the door. Dim light poured from the door, and she pressed her ear against it. She heard many sounds with her keen elven ears. There were long, drawn-out moans and sounds of delirious torture or ecstacy; it was hard to tell which.
She put her left hand on the hilt of her sheathed weapon, a dangerous elven rune-blade which could immolate at command. Then, with her right, she turned the doorknob and pushed the heavy door open. She didn't hesitate to step inside, ready for whatever she should come across.
It was a small room, about the size of the lobby of the Gallow's End tavern in Brill, and very similarly shaped. There was a counter, a few tables, a staircase, and a shut door that lead to a back room. The room was very dimly lit. It was very dark, lit only by candles placed around the room. There was a strange feel to the entire place.
The tables around the room were filled with a small number of people, all Undead. There would be those who dressed well, apparently patrons, often on their laps a scantily clad female or sometimes the other way around. The moans continued from upstairs and from the back room, which lie behind the shut door. Behind the counter stood a lone Forsaken, a woman with features undiscernable underneath her heavy cloak and hood. Beside her stood the only living among them, a ridiculously muscular Orc with many scars. He seemed to be the bouncer, but how he came upon such a place was a mystery. It was apparent that Valian had stumbled upon a brothel!

Valian normally would have despised such a place. She had a strong sense of morality and justice in life, but now, things were different. She just looked about the place curiously, hand still tense upon her weapon. The woman behind the counter spoke in a whisper to the Orc, who moved across the room swiftly. He spoke in an ominous voice, clearer than most Orcs. "You won't need that weapon here, nor your armor. Give them to me, and I shall return them when you care to leave."
Valian paused, not liking to be told what to do by an Orc, but her indignation didn't last long. She handed the Orc her weapon, then removed her beautiful elven mail. She opened her mouth to speak, but the Orc stopped her with a raised hand. "We assure you, they will not be harmed. Now you may speak with the Mistress." He nodded to the cloaked one behind the counter.
The cloaked one spoke first. "Welcome. You don't look asss iff you wass looking for thiss place. Welcome, all the ssame, to my Brothel. What iss it you desire? Iff you do not look for pleasure, you sshould leave and speak not off this place." Her raspy voice still managed to hold a bit of forboding.

Valian paused, considering. She had been wandering in part because her mind had been so occupied. 'Twas occupied by Trilink, whom she'd been obsessed with for a long time now. She remembered that night in the inn, the thoughts she'd had and the things she'd felt. She had been wandering because she felt there was a desire, an urge she must satiate, although she hadn't thought of how. There was a hole that needed to be filled, and this just might do the trick, for a short time.
She looked the Mistress in the eye, evenly, and spoke softly, to the point. "A male." The Mistress just nodded. "What sort?" Valian shook her head. "One that won't speak." The Mistress gave a sick smirk, then shrugged. "Three gold, up front." Valian payed her hastily.
She was then directed by the Orc Bouncer upstairs, and into a room. There waited a plain-looking Forsaken man, dressed in black clothing. The Orc spoke menacingly down at the whore-man. "Do not speak. Do as she directs. If you know what's best for you." The Orc then nodded to Valian and went back downstairs.
Valian looked down at the man, and paused. She slowly began to disrobe, plain tunics and plainer undergarments being discarded, finally showing off her perfect Elven form. She just glared down at the man and with a word instructed him to disrobe as well.
Everything was as it should be on her form. She had not lost anything to Undeath, save a bit of color. Everything was firm and beautiful as it had been. She climbed up onto the bed, over the man, and straddled him. She shut her eyes, then, and pushed the den of iniquity from her mind, focusing instead on somewhere else, someone else...

She pushed her hips down onto the male below her, until his hard cock was as deep as it would go. Eyes still shut tightly, she threw her head back and began to rock her hips back and forth, rhythmically riding him, fucking him, the flesh of her still-tight pussy parting for him. She was not with him though. Her mind was elsewhere, on another...
Her pace increased, her hips grinding against him at a fevered pitch. She leaned down and kissed his neck, then sucked and bit at it, pumping with her hips faster and harder as the pleasure increased.
She still kept her mind on another man, another place. Her juices flowed over the cock inside her, as he pleasure heightened further. Finally she threw her head back further and the frantic sex was highlighted by ecstatic shouts and moans. "Ohhh. Yess. Mmm. Trilink! Trilink! Ohh, yes!"
Her mind was on Trilink, her son. The blonde Knight she lusted for and obsessed over. The one she held so much desire for. She pictured him, beautiful Trilink, on the bed in his home, where she'd been before. She pictured his hot flesh inside her. She pictured herself on top of him, riding him. She pictured herself kissing him. She pictured his hands on her breasts, her nipples in his mouth. She pictued herself in the throes of passion with Trilink.
Her screams soon reached their height, as her pleasure did the same. Trilink's name was heard all throughout the inn, in the Elf-tongue. Finally, Trilink still on her mind, she began to orgasm. Wave after wave of pleasure ripped through her body, causing her to scream out, until she was finished. She fell back on the bed, panting.

There was a pause, as she caught her breath, eyes still shut, still fantasizing about Trilink. The quiet was interrupted by the Forsaken male, beside her. "Who iss Trilink?" he foolishly inquired. This was not the way they were supposed to behave. Valian just sat up, reached out, and grabbed his tongue. She then pulled hard, tearing it totally from his mouth with inhuman strength. Then, she reached down, grabbed his hands, and pulled them back quickly, snapping both wrists. "Mind your own business, wretch."

Valian then got dressed and left the brothel, still dizzy and reeling from her experience. She would -have- to see him again. She would try to take him, this time. She had much reason to think she would succeed.

[trilink]

XIV - "Training the Orphan Knights"


Trilink Ehranus stood in front of the fountain in the Cathedral District of Stormwind City. Before him stood, in a row, 12 chjildren, all orphans of the Third War; in which the majority of the Human Kningdom,s especially Lordaeron, suffered heavy casualties at the hands of the Scourge, or the Plague that came before.
Trilink had volunteered to train the orphans, at least, the willing among them. He would train them to fight, theach them about honor, chivalry, and even history and tactics. It was his project of sorts, a way of fulfilling his duty, and doing something good. He wanted the orpahns to end up strong, good, and self-relaint; instead of ending up like the Defias, men he'd often had to kill.
The twelve that had gathered were a diverse group, but they all seemed to be more serious than children should be. While they still sometimes laughed and played, they held a grim countenance, serious expressions, and a general feeling that they were up for anything, and grateful for the training by a ranking officer, whom they seemed very impresed by.
The group was all human, likely children of Lordaeron, save one, a very small High Elven girl, who seemed more mature than her older and larger comrades. There was another who stood out, a boy among them, about twelve years old. He was older and larger than the others, and seemed to be their leader of sorts.
Trilink began with an introduction. "I am glad you all came." He paused, truly unsure what to tell them. "I am Knight-Lieutenant Trilink Ehranus, and I'm here to teach you many things. You will be made into Squires, in time, and will have a place one day in the elite of the Lion Throne, should you work hard and with enough dedication." Such dreams of grandeur caught their attention, widening their eyes. Only the Elf-childseemed unaffected, her violet eyes serious as they remained locked onto the Knight's. Truly, Trilink would be able to teach her, if any of them, he thought.
"Firtly, I will train each of you to fight as Warriors." The boys in the group, 8 of the 12, stirred noticably at this. "It will take your time and your dedication, as well as mine. If you will not give it you rall, I won't waste it. I will also teach you about honor and chivalry, for a Warrior who fights without these things is no better than an Orc!" He paused, then continued, "I will also teach you what I know of our world and its history, especially that which I've firsthand witnessed." He nodded to them all. "I want you to know one thing, too. I was an orphan as well, once. The Second War, 18 years ago, created a situation similar to yours. Now, let us begin."

The first several days went well. Trilink taught the orphans the fundamentals of melee combat; the subtle thrusts, parries, and edge-attacks of the sword, the way axes and maces could be treated both crudely or with finesse, the more difficult maneuvers of a polearm, etc. The children soon had preferences. Most chose swords and shields. The elf-girl, the smallest of the children, chose fist weapons, tiger's claws. Trilink had not even trained them with this maner of weapon, but the girl seemed drawn to them. They trained solidly in melee combat for an entire week, six hours a day. Trilink would return from battles abroad to Stormwind. Although his duties were plenty, he was never late. Trilink had begun to like this part of his work.
The second week he taught them in the Park, outside. THey'd sit in a circle and listen to his lectures on Honor, Chivalry, Mercy, Morals, et cetera. He recanted his own Oats as a Knight to them.
The third week he continued to teach them melee combat, with interludes to teach the history of the Three Wars, the glory of Arathor, the alliance with the Quel'Dorei against the Trolls, the migration of the High Elves from Kalimdor, etc. He gave focus on heroes like Sunstrider, Lothar, Alleria, Lightbringer, Trollbane, Turalyon, Llane Wrynn, and a few others. They were the role-models for many Warriors, Paladins, and other such Soldiers of the Alliance.
The fourth week saw some real progress. All 12 orphans had worked hard, dedicated to their Knightly benefactor. Soon, they all seemed to show prowess with their chosen weapons, and all showed much belief in the codes of Chivalry that Trilink had given them. They seemed for all the world like miniature Knights of ages past. Trilink was proud of them and himself, and they looked up to and admired him in return.
Two children set themselves above the others in both conduct and skill in battle. The first was the oldest boy, their chosen leader. His name was Thaddues, and he spoke and acted like a Knight, showing fierce dedication. He looked after the other orphans, and seemed to have excessive moral character. His weapon of choice was a two-handed hammer, and Trilink knewn the boy would end up a Paladin- perhaps he'd send the boy to Northshire Abbey early, or find a Paladin in the Cathedral to train him. Thaddeus was a natural fighter, and had picked up well on Trilink's training. He could use a two-hander defensively, patiently. Trilink had great faith in the boy and his potential.
The second was more surprising- it was the youngest among them, the six-year old Elven girl. She was violet-eyed, her hair was crimson, and she was an enigma. The girl rarely spoke, and was never anything but dead serious. She had a sense of honor, but, in sparring matches she would figh ferociously and never held back. She still favored her claw weapons, and refused to wear any armor. She wore her everyday clothes and instead used her agility to avoid attacks. She used her feet as much of her fists. Her fighting style was one she was developing with help from Trilink, it was natural and very wild. With Trilink's guidance, though, she was fast becoming a very dangerous fighter.
The Elf's name was Iilya, a single name given by the orphanage matron, for the Elf had been dropped off by an anonymous person, and her origin was for the most part unknown. It was generally assumed that she was rescued from the fall of Quel'Thalas. Thaddeus and Iilya had the makings of what could later be great warriors and heroes, and Trilink would continue to train them as long as they needed him and would allow him to.
The other students were also doing great, they were twelve young people who would one day lead Stormwind's military, Trilink thought with great pride. Truly, this was a lot to have accomplished in such a short time. It was just a beginning, though.
On the last day of the first month, Trilink told them to take a week off. The next training would involve real combat, and they should make ready. It had been a short time since he'd begun training them, but he knew they'd be ready...

[trilink]

XV - "The Orphan Army"

The day had come. Trilink was going to lead his students to battle. He didn't tell them where, but they strusted him completely. He was very special to them. A benefactor, a father figure, perhaps the first person to truly care about them, save the Matron. Some of the children looked eager, while others looked anxious or nervous. Thaddeus and Iilya were grim-faced and looked determined.
Trilink was a blacksmith, and as such, he'd taken much time, in the week off, to custom-forge real weapons for them, and light mail suits of green iron. Two students wore other outfits. Iilya wore a tiny leather set of armor, one that Trilink had to have made for her, it was very durable and very light though, made by the most skilled. It had cost him about 25 pieces of gold! Trilink had also made gleaming bronze mail and a bronze chain coif for Thaddeus, to distinguish him as the group leader, the role Trilink had given him, and the one he would have ended up with anyway.
The other ten students, uniform in their sets of Green Iron, looked for all the world like a unit of combat-ready Dwarven soldiers. It was actually an impressive sight!
Two of the girls, twins, each carried dual rapiers and crossbows. They were to be the rear guard. Their names were Dezmin and Aethin. This pair were polar opposites; Dez was upbeat and giddy, girly and sweet. Aethin was intellectual and had a cynical wit beyond her years. They were excellet marksmen, and while individually unskilled in melee combat, as a pair, their four blades moved as one, and were excessively dangerous. The twins were nine years old, blue eyed and blonde haired.
The third girl was a ten year old named Uthlwyn. Her guttural name betrayed her heritage; she was orphaned from a family in the Alterac Mountains. She was corpulant and large, and favoured a two-handed axe. She was barbarous in battle, but very pleasant to be around outside of it. She laughed the hardest and sang the loudest of the children. Were it not for her size, she could well have been mistaken for a Dwarven child. In her mail suit, she looked like an adult Dwarven soldier!
The fourth was a quite girl, Sheska, who used a Zweihander, a two-handed sword, and was an eight-year old. Her hazel eyes and auburn hair were well-groomed, for she was much a lady, outside of battle. She was gentle and sweet, but in battle, she was skilled, never leaving behind her calm demeanor. Her cool head would be a great asset to her in the future, Trilink believed.
The other seven boys were all unique and remarkable. Five of them used swords and shields, though, one a spear, and one an axe and a mace. The boys with sword and shield had been organized into a separate unit that fought as one, named the Vanguard by Thaddeus. The two-handed weapon wielders and the dual-wielders were named the Flankers by Thaddeus as well. Iilya and himself would make up a third unit, she was to stick with him as he shouted orders to the others.
Trilink would be among them and would step in if they needed, althoughhe truly thought they could handle it. He knew Thaddeus would organize them well; Thaddeus had already gone over battle formations and tactics with his comrades many times. Trilink soon gathered the children to speak with them.
"Today marks your first battle, my students. I have faith in your skills, and I know as well that you shall prove my efforts worthy." Thaddeus, the only one among them confident enough to speak up in the middle of a speech, replied. "And we have faith in your wisdom and training, Sir Ehranus."
Trilink smiled. "Now, let us march!" The thirteen people marched down the main road in Elwynn Forest together drawing stares. Many times afterwards he was asked, to his extreme amusement, why and where he was leading an army of Dwarves. None questioned him at the moment though, as he lead the children in a march right up to the Jasperlode Mine.
"Your task, my dear students, is to clear the mines of the Kobold infestation. This won't be easy, and is a task usually given to those training at the Abbey or working for Goldshire. I know you can do it, as a team, though. Thaddeus, you are in command of this operation."
Thaddeus sprung into immediate action. It was his moment to shine, and he wouldn't squander it. He began barking orders to the other children at once. "Yes, sir! Vanguard, form up! Flankers, on me! Aethin, Dezmin, behind us! Iilya, stay with me." He spoke with confidence, and the others did as he said. Iilya stayed with Thaddeus, but she also managed to stay close to Trilink.
The Vanguard, marching shoulder-to-shoulder, entered the mine first, shields locked and raised. The first narrow passage had room for only them, and the few kobolds too stupid to flee met the quick jabs of their swords, torn apart by the organized children as if they were a meat grinder. Aethin and Dezmin had unleashed a torrent of crossbow bolts over their sholders, sending several kbolds to the Twisting Nether. Thaddeus and his 'Flankers' followed in single-file.
Soon, the group reached the main chamber of the mine, which was now filled with Kobolds. Thaddeus barked more orders, and the Vanguard split up, facing five different directions, as a Flanker with heavier weapons joined them. There was a Vanguard to each Flanker and vice-versa, with Iilya, Thaddeus, Dezmin, and Aethin in the center, where Trilink stood vigil.
The sound of the battle filled the mines, as the group fought with deadly efficiency. Theymoved as one. All the children showed remarkable skill and prowess, the Vanguard/Flanker combinations holding the enemy at bay and slaying them with aid from the twins' crossbows. Iilya and Thaddeus moved together to slay any enemies that threatened to overwhelm a pair of fighters. Thaddeus was a calculating fighter, waiting patiently for an opening in a kobold's defense, and then striking a mortal blow. Iilya was just a superior fighter. She was everywwhere at once, whirling, kicking, slashing, dodging. She was agile and precise as she dispatched the kobolds.
It was about fifteen minutes, and then the mine was empty of kbolds. The skilled Orphan Knights came out of it uninjured and without Trilink stepping in; an impressive feat for such youngsters.
When they returened to Stormwind, Trilink spoke to them. "You have passed your trial by fire. More will come, but you have, at your age, surpassed even some Abbey recruits. I name all twelve of you as my Squires! I am very very proud of all of you."

And with that, the future of Stormwind became a little less at risk, and one of Trilink's greatest accomplishments began. This legacy would live on, beyond Trilink's expectations and imagination, and would continue for a very, very long time.

[trilink]

The last chapter!

XVI - The First of Many

The week had been busy, albeit a quiet sort of business that lead to boredom and exhaustion at the same time. The familiar routine of going from battle to battle had been, for a short time, replaced by activity in Stormwind City, local affairs, more work with the Orphans, everyday Guard duties, and his first political activity, at the request of Galen Trollbane, his friend and the Prince of Stromgarde.
Trilink was beginning to feel a strain from first too much activity, and then too much lack thereof. The restful week had left him feeling quite strange; a calm sort of sadness. He felt his recent battles meant little in the grand scheme of things, or he felt that he may be soon doomed to mediocrity. Whether or not these things were true were matters only of opinion.
The main things weighing Trilink down were other people. He was finally beginning to accept the fact that Constanse was probably not coming back to him. His last meeting with Valian had left him feeling empty, and his ill dreams of his dead sister haunted him still, though the memories of the dreams always passed before his waking.
It was a pattern with Trilink Ehranus. For a time he would be the Knight he'd always hoped to be and envisioned himself to be, but too much time led to too much contemplation, and the pattern continued- he was in a rut of sorts, a hole.
The battles had become longer and harder, yet still more fruitless. THe more he fought, the harder he fought, the less results he'd notice. The skirmishes between Alliance and Horde continued, as they always had, and the other enemies in Azeroth continued to grow in power. Also, he felt other soldiers were either leaving him behind as they focused on the fighting and only the fighting due to only selfish reasons, or they were at least competent to the point that Trilink was truly no longer necessary, no longer needed or even wanted. Besides, today's conflicts were not for a single soldier, no matter how skilled. Raids of many ruled the day, and Trilink had very few allies.

Trilink's thought was this: If he was no longer needed, did that mean his duty had been fulfilled? Or was it even still valid, were it not?

Three days passed, and Trilink remained locked in his home, windows shut, door locked. He couldn't find a reason to go out, nor did he want to. He sat in his chair, reading, writing, or staring into the fire, most of the time. His thoughts were dark, brooding. He hoped it would pass, wondered if it would pass... hadn't it happened like this before? Would his enthusiastic vigor for valor and battle and honor return?

For now, he was nothing more than lost. Lost again, without a place.

His last thought before sleeping that night was this: Maybe he never could find his place because he truly did not have one.




((So ends this tale. Lots of time pass between this and Sunset. Lots of time.))