It had been a month into her Father’s deployment, sadly he had not yet written, but in those far-away territories, long silences were often the norm. Summer had finally arrived to bathe the land in its welcome warmth. The rains eased as did the sudden and often unpredictable storms, giving way to fine sunny days. Sasha longed to be free, she was counting down the weeks until her Father would return home, and she could again venture out into her beloved wilds.
Meanwhile, like the obedient girl she was Sasha had done everything that was asked of her. She was helpful to her Aunt and Uncle about the house, and tonight she had assisted in the evening meal preparation. Usually, it was just simple fare such as pottage, or roast meat, as there were only the three of them in the house. However tonight it was her Aunt Evelyn’s birthday so they had baked all day, and cooked up a modest feast.
The table was set and the food was laid out on the pretty china that only came out for special occasions, glasses filled with sparkling wine.
“To my most lovely wife.” Benjamin made his toast.
Evelyn blushed and took a sip of her drink.
They all tucked into the food, it was delicious, even in this time overshadowed by the threat of war the Wrynn’s still lived quite well. Though there were often shortages, the farmers of Westfall had much difficulty harvesting their crops with all the Defias troubles of recent months. Westfall was the breadbasket of the Eastern Kingdoms, and as a result of the unrest, shortages had abounded.
“I had word from your Father today,” Benjamin informed.
“You did!” Sasha looked at him excitedly, her dark eyes gleamed.
“That I did, I met one of the men that was stationed with him today, Leroy Jenkins I think he said. Strange fellow seemed to like the sound of his own voice. He asked me to give you this message.” Benjamin reached into his plaid shirt pocket and pulled out a neat piece of folded paper, handing it to Sasha.
She opened it, it was only a single piece of parchment containing a few brief paragraphs. She scanned them hastily.
“Well what news?” Benjamin asked.
“He says he’s well, and just writes he misses us.”
“That’s all?” Benjamin said with disappointment.
“Well, he did tell me about a litter of worg puppies he saw in an Orcish war camp on his way through Redridge.”
Benjamin nodded and smiled across at his niece. “Well I am sure he has to be careful what he writes, all letters out are vetted. Can’t have sensitive information falling into enemy hands.”
Sasha nodded and a thought came to her, one she needed to voice out loud. “Can orcs even read Uncle?”
Her Uncle shrugged his shoulders. “I really don’t know Sasha, but I imagine probably not. Most of the orcs I have seen were by my account vile and most base.”
That was the answer she expected, and she believed him.
*****
Sasha sat later that very evening in her room. An environment that didn’t look at all like a teenage girl's bedroom, but rather more of a naturalist's museum. The young woman had always insisted her Father bring her back something from his travels all over Azeroth, and he had obliged his ever-inquisitive daughter.
The window sill was crowded with all manner of potted exotic plants. Most never even grew in this region. She had on display collections of rocks and minerals, seashells, shelves of books about nature and the world at large, and even a ceremonial troll Tiki Mask hung up high on the wall above her bed. Rare and beautiful butterflies and a myriad of other brightly iridescent beetles in cases abounded.
Tonight Sasha was lost in her thoughts. A worg pup, my that would be a Rangers prize to behold! She tried to imagine the prestige of a bond with such a creature and thought about how difficult it would even be to in fact capture one. Worgs she knew grew big, they were immense, often carrying orcish warriors to battle on their backs and fighting alongside their owners. She did wonder if they were spirit-bonded to their orc masters, or did they serve them out of fear?
She had never laid eyes on one though, but she longed to. She yawned, she was tired and it was late. She snuffed out the candle and put her feet under the blankets, drawing them up over her. Try as she might the aspiring ranger could not get the thought of worgs out of her head, and she dreamed about a worg companion long into the night. She hardly slept at all.
Sleep being a bust she was up early the next morning, still thinking about her Father’s letter. Redridge, it really was not that far, a day to cross Elwynn, and the next day she would be in the town of Lakeshire, safe and sound. It was a delicious thought, but she had made a promise.
The day was one of normalcy and quiet, she had gone to the park and was returning home, and Sasha was just about to congratulate herself for avoiding Graham Trias altogether when she bumped into him on the next street over from her cottage.
“Sasha.” he greeted her. “I have been looking for you.” He looked very pleased to see her and perhaps a little nervous too.
Of course you have. Inwardly she sighed and willed herself to respond cordially, even presenting him with a contrived smile. “Lovely to see you too Graham.”
It was not that she didn’t like him or he was unpleasant, but his constant pursuit unnerved her. Sasha had known him since childhood, they had even attended the same school, but now that she was of marriageable age, she felt difficult and awkward about him.
“Sasha…” His bourbon-colored eyes bored into her much darker ones. He fumbled for a moment, this heir to the Trias cheese fortune, both with his words and his pocket.
To Sasha’s horror he brought forth a ring, and before she could frame a refusal he had slipped it onto her finger. It was the biggest Azerothian Diamond she had ever laid eyes on. She was so shocked and embarrassed she didn’t know what to say.
He was down on his knee proposing. Sasha’s head swam, she could not hear what he said over the thrumming of the blood in her temples. She opened her mouth but nothing came out, and he had determined her response as a surprised yes. In her terrified haze, he had put his arm though hers and he had walked her back to her home, her Aunt and Uncle had admitted them and they had congratulated the couple heartily. Sasha didn’t know what to say.
After Graham had departed Sasha ran up to her room, locked the door, and cried into her pillow. How could that have gone so horribly wrong, she wailed, what a terrible misunderstanding! She didn’t know what to do.
She must have drifted off to sleep, and when she awoke the house and the city were quiet. The only sound that came to her was the passing of the night watchman in the laneway below her opened window.
Straight away Sasha’s terrible situation came back to her, and she fretted with what to do. She had to be calm, she had to think this through. Panicking had got her into this and it would not get her out. So she sat quietly on her bed in the darkness looking at the almost full moon out of her window.
Suddenly she rose and withdrew a sheet of crisp parchment from her writing bureau, she dipped her quill in the ink well and began to pen a note.
‘My Dearest Aunt Evelyn and Uncle Benjamin.
I am sorry, there is something I must do. If I fail I shall return home and marry Graham Trias as everyone expects.
Always your loving niece Sasha.’
She removed the diamond ring and placed it on top of the note.
She pulled on some warm woolen hose beneath her brown leather pants, they would help to keep out the moist night air. Even in summer the nights in Elwynn forest could be decidedly cool. She grabbed her warmest shirt and a coat, carrying her boots under her arm to ensure silence, and stole quietly down to the kitchen using her best ranger ability, stealth. There she filled a sack with provisions, and a canteen with water, before picking up her bow and quiver of arrows and silently leaving the house.
Sasha made every effort to not be seen, it was a long walk to the gates of the city. Most of the guardsmen knew her by name, she could not afford to be noticed. She kept to the shadows, and finally, she was once again back in the forest she so loved. Her plan for this moment was unsure, but she intended to at least reach the cave by dawn, rest a while, and then make the journey to Eastvale.
That part of the journey needed to be done in daylight, as she didn’t fancy running into a wolf or a bear by accident in the dark. She knew she could not take the roads, as by tomorrow it was likely all the guardsmen would have been alerted to her disappearance. By god her Father knew them all!
As she had hoped she made the small cave just before sunrise, two nights without decent rest had taken their toll on her alertness, so she decided to have a small meal and sleep for part of the day. Throughout her rest, she kept waking and looking for that wolf, but it never made a return. So she slept fitfully, the hard rock made for a poor bed, and on rising at about midday she felt somewhat stiff and sore. Sasha Wrynn was already missing her cozy bed.
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“I am a ranger,” she said to herself with resolve, “and this is what they do.”
She gathered up her few possessions and continued east, she had never been this far before and she found she had to proceed with caution. She skirted the kobold caves without incident and forded the estuary that flowed out of the Stone Cairn lake. She made the other side, the small river was not deep but now all her lower legs and pants were heavy and wet. It was very uncomfortable. She dearly hoped the town of Eastvale was far enough away from Stormwind that no one would know who she was. Abed and lodging would be most welcome.
She suffered a near miss with a colony of lesser murlocs just outside of Eastvale and had to run for her life. Fortunately, the town was not very far and the Murlocs did not like being too far from their watery habitat. She dodged by the guards at the bridge just outside the small hamlet and followed the snaking dirt track into the settlement. She was not sure what she would find there but she had to confess on sighting it she was somewhat disappointed.
It was as its name suggested, a logging camp, there was a large saw mill which dominated the settlement, a few scattered small homes, and a stable, where she caught sight of a young woman in the horse arena, she was training a fine horse. The animal pranced and arched its muscular neck as the woman worked the beast under saddle.
Sasha walked up to her and waved, the woman at once halting the animal and greeting her with a cheerful hello.
The fine palomino horse snorted as he came to a halt just before Sasha.
“I’m Katie Hunter what can I do for you young lady?”
“I’m looking for an inn?” Sasha deliberately sidestepped introducing herself by name.
“Oh, well there isn't one around these parts, the closest one that’s reputable is in Lakeshire, but it’s too far for you to reach by sunset. Perhaps Old Mr Haggard has a room to spare? You could ask him, he lives in the big manor house just up the way.” She pointed east off into the trees.
“Thank you very much,” Sasha replied, as she turned toward the pathway that ran off into the dark, over hanging trees.
Old man Haggard was standing just outside his large home. Sasha approached him, noting that he only had one eye, just like old Elling Trias, his missing one covered with a sturdy brown leather eye patch. He must have been a war veteran. Her nerves got the better of her and she dearly hoped her Father didn’t know him.
“Hello Sir,” she said rather timorously, she had pulled the hood of her coat over her head so that she may remain a little more anonymous.
“Hello there young lady.” Mr Haggard said, assessing her with his one good eye.
Sasha felt twinges of great trepidation at his close inspection.
“We don’t often see young ladies traveling alone in these parts. Have you come far?”
“Yes Sir quite a ways, I am from Westfall.” She lied.
“Ah, that explains it then, a refugee, one that got out? I hear it’s pretty rough there at the moment, many go hungry.”
Sasha just nodded. The less the old man knew the better. No one cared about or looked for refugees. She put her hand in her pocket fumbling for her coin pouch, she had a small amount of coin that she had saved for a rainy day.
“I was wondering if you might have a spare room Sir, where I could stay the night?”
“Of course girl, but put that away, I can’t take your coin. You have suffered enough.”
He led the way into his large home. It was neat but empty and quiet. It appeared old man Haggard lived alone. He took her to a top-story room, it had a lovely view of the forest.
“I hope this is to your liking young lady, I don’t believe you have told me your name, or maybe I am just forgetful?
Sasha fumbled for the first name that came into her head. “Oh, it’s Anne.”
“Rest well Anne.”
“Thank you, kind Sir, goodnight.”
*****
The songbirds were chortling happily in the trees when Sasha awoke the next morning. She had not meant to sleep this late and she rose hurriedly slipping on her garments, and gathering up her few possessions.
She could hear voices coming from the garden down below, cautiously she looked out of the lead-light window to see Mr Haggard in conversation with a man dressed in chain-mail and plate with a sword buckled at his waist. He didn’t wear the livery of a Stormwind recruit though. She could not hear what was being said, but she was afraid that perhaps the man was looking for her, and she didn’t want to take that chance.
She stole into the forest through the rear of the house, realizing that today even though the road into Redridge was not too far distant today's travel would be slow. There were many dangerous animals here lurking in the deep dark trees. She must be careful.
She almost had a run-in with a brown bear, luckily the animal did not catch her scent, it was a perilously close shave. Her bow would have been no match for such a mighty creature. She had been close to one once, her Father had a dwarven friend who was also a ranger, and he had tamed one for his companion. The shaggy beast was large and strong, it could without effort rend a man limb from limb, an excellent ally on the battlefield, a creature not to be messed with.
By the time the forest thinned and the red hills and cliffs of Redridge beckoned it was almost sunset. Sasha stopped at the treeline and assessed the Three Corners guard station and the imposing stone tower that stood before her. The blue and white Stormwind lion banner fluttered in the light breeze that hung from the watch towers ramparts. There were barricades installed across the roadway, the checkpoint patrolled by guards.
She looked to the red hills to her left and caught sight of the telltale small fires of a gnoll encampment. There was no passage that way to be had, gnolls were fierce hyena-like humanoids that made a nest of kobolds look welcoming. She fretted at how she would pass the checkpoint unnoticed? She could not bear the thought of Lakeshire so close, but not achieving her destination. She could not afford a slip-up, at once deciding that perhaps she would just have to wait until nightfall to attempt the crossing.
She had no papers on her person, and she was sure the guardsman would ask her for them. Surely by now, the alarm had been sounded over her disappearance, and notices had been dispatched to all the surrounding principalities to be on the lookout for a petite, dark-haired girl.
She didn’t relish sitting hidden in the treeline until the cover of darkness, she desired to be in Lakeshire in a warm room at the inn.
As fortune would have it a heavily laden dray came rumbling out of Darkshire, pulled by a team of black and white oxen, the guard's attentions turned to the traveler, and this was the distraction she needed.
As the fast-setting sun cast its long shadows over the great oaks that bordered Elwynn forest, Sasha made her break from cover. She ran to a large ironstone boulder, hiding in its shadow for a moment. Satisfied she had not been detected and the soldiers were still talking to the driver of the ox team, she put on another burst of speed and was off down the road toward the enormous Lakeshire bridge.
She breathed a sigh of relief, and her thundering heart quieted as she pulled the hood of her cloak over her head as she drew close to the great span. She was almost to its beginning when she ducked with a start, a tiny baby black dragon had swooped her, hissing and spitting mightily. Breathing puffs of acrid smoke. The angry creature posed little more threat than a bird in its fledgling state, but it had scared her regardless, and she wondered what it would be like to encounter a fully grown one?
There were a few travelers about on the bridge at this twilight hour. A gryphon master cheerily welcomed those who had enough gold to fly. Sasha noted as she peered forth under her dark oilskin hood that the soldiery here was simply on patrol. Not one civilian had been asked for their paperwork as they passed into Lakeshire. She guessed the orc threat was the sole reason the men patrolled this area.
For a short time, she lingered on the bridge, watching the last of the vague pink sunset that flushed the still waters of the aptly named Lake Everstill before her. She had visited here once with her Father in less volatile times as a small girl. A holiday, and she had many pleasant memories of this locale.
Lakeshire was not large but it was very pleasant, there was a large inn that sported a clock tower, numerous jetties jutted out into the water, a smithy and stables, and a scattering of homes and farmsteads filled the pretty valley. Vendors carts lined the main road, but they had closed them up for the evening.
She stood outside the Lakeshire inn counting out her precious coins and hoped she had enough. Many patrons were inside at the bar and the room was almost too warm, a server was bringing food and drink to the tables. A low fire burned in the stone hearth. There were many military men here, the place had that edgy war footing feel. Though Sasha was quite used to seeing such men who frequented her Father’s home, this felt different. For the first time, she felt the danger of her mission and the gravity of just what it was she had done.
She pushed her uneasy thoughts aside and went to the counter trying to stand as tall as possible lest she be labeled as a runaway child.
“I would like a room please, and some food if I may.” She said to the pretty blonde woman who appeared to be running the establishment. She eased her coins once more from her purse and placed them on the countertop that was sticky with spilled mead.
The woman turned and plucked a heavy brass key from the wall behind the counter. “Room three, it’s just up the stairs to the left. Will you be eating down here or do you wish to dine in your room?”
Sasha thought for a moment, though she longed to be away in private and get some rest, she decided that if she lurked in the lounge she may overhear something of value. She needed to get the lay of the land. What better cover than to eat her meal and listen to her fellow travelers and perhaps the soldier's reports?
“I will eat down here,” she finally answered, her mind made up.
So she sat, her back to the over warm fire as she tucked into the hearty stew before her, and sipped at her ale. The thick lamb and vegetable broth tasted very good. She was all ears as she ate her meal rather slowly, lingering over it, and even ordering a second serving. Today’s adventure had left her with a rather large appetite.
One set of voices came to her ears rising over the other conversations with its importance. The conversation of a group of military men obviously returned from a recent scouting mission to the east.
“Gath’llzog is moving further down into the valley, it would seem the numbers in his war band are swelling by the day.” The stern, old gray-haired soldier said.
“Yes, he will strike soon I’ll wager.” A redheaded, thickly bearded dwarf replied. “There are so many orc parties being seen coming through the gorge from the Burning steppes. His numbers grow by the day. We’ll be overrun soon.”
“Why does that bast...err I mean King Wrynn not send more forces?” The younger Knight replied.
“I think he has enough unrest at home, and you need to watch your words Frederick, that’s treason.”Came the old soldier’s explanation.
“That’s utter shite…” The dwarf replied.
Sasha’s ears pricked, Burning Steppes was where her Father was stationed! She hoped he was okay, it all sounded so ominous.
She did the best she could to dissect the nearby soldier’s conversations over the general bustle of the tavern. That warlord Gath’llzogg sounded both cunning and vicious, not to be messed with. The stories of sorties and combat these men told were frightening, it appeared orcs were just as vicious as her Father and Uncle had described, creatures that only lived for the clash of steel and the letting of blood. They seemed as equally cruel to men as they were to their own kind. She would have to be careful.
The lure though of the worgs drew her, and she heard the men also speak of the great shaggy beasts, all fang and claw, and their prowess on the battlefield. Sasha's heart soared hearing how they fought by their master’s side until the bitter end. All rending and gnashing fury. She tried to imagine the loyalty of a fierce beast like that, one all of her own melded to her inner thoughts, commanded by an unseen bond. Yes, this is what she came for.
The excitement though could not chase away her weariness. The day had been tiring and the journey long, try as she might Sasha’s eyelids grew heavy and she began to doze off in her chair. Patrons were beginning to clear out of the tavern, departing for their rooms and their homes. The last round was called.
She was almost asleep when she woke with a sudden start. A young man was sitting opposite her, and unlike most of the patrons, he was not a military man. He was handsome and fair with arresting vibrant blue eyes.
“Are you alright lass,’ he asked.
“Yes...Yes, I’m quite fine.” Sasha mumbled in reply somewhat disoriented. At once getting to her feet. “It’s been a long day, if you don’t mind good Sir I must seek my bed.” The last thing Sasha needed or wanted was male attention.
“Certainly lass, please forgive my trespass, goodnight.” The young man rose and left, she watched him pick up his lute and remembered he had been playing earlier in the evening, and as she recalled he wasn't half bad.