Soldiers of Warcraft

Prologue

The continent of Northrend houses unspeakable terrors. Among them are dragons, wolvar, the vrykul, and more commonly, the undead. To make matters worse, the continent has a bone-chilling cold, capable of bringing even the best warriors to their knees. It is here that the Lich King calls home where he directs his undead armies to spread pain and suffering.

In the eastern outskirts of Dragonblight lies a small campfire with eight adventurers surrounding it. Each of them have their own reasons for coming to this frozen wasteland, but all have the same goal: to see the Lich King lie beneath their feet.

The group had comprised of two orcs, three elves, a troll, a tauren, and a goblin. The two orcs sat next to each other, to the left of one of them was the goblin, followed by an elf, the tauren, the troll and the two remaining elves. In an effort to break the silence, one of the orcs spoke with a gruff voice, "Well, aren't we an...interesting party." His face had been covered by his plated helmet making his blue eyes more noticeable, and the orc donned a fully plated armor set to match. On his back was a greatsword and a battle ax crossed on top of each other. Just one of the weapons seemed difficult enough raise, let alone fight with; and based on the way the weapons were aligned, it seemed that this orc was able to hold both weapons in each hand without flinching.

"Little brother, you should know by now that every party is colorful in it's own way. Otherwise, it wouldn't be a PARTY!" The other orc screamed with a big smile, following the plated orc's attempt to get everyone involved. The second orc had lighter armor. Leather, to be exact. He wasn't as built as his sibling, however his overall appearance gave the impression that he doesn't rely on large weapons to hold his own in combat. On his left hip hung a one-handed hammer and resting on his left hand, a claw of some sort. An electric ball circled around his body and lightly fizzled during it's rounds. From his chin grew a long beard that reached the center of his chest. Three ties separated his beard into three parts with the left and right bunches matching in length and the middle being slightly shorter. His pale green eyes looked at the group before him and spoke again with a calm voice. "Greetings, everyone. My name is Verragosh, and this is Hinmogar, my younger brother. What brings you all to this chilly place?"

"Chilly? 'Dja grow up 'ere?" asked the troll. The troll was female and didn't really seem interested in the group. She wore light leather armor that allowed for comfortable movement and agility. On her left hip was a very regal looking sword. Her back was propped against the tauren in a lazy manner and as she spoke she flipped a dagger in her hand.

Verragosh grinned. "No, but summoning fire totems whenever I want helps."

"My biggest assumption is that you're all here to kill that human with the crown, right?" Hinmogar asked.

"Who? Varian? Nah, he can wait." the troll answered, distracted by the dagger blade balancing on her finger. Hinmogar looked at her suspiciously, but before he could do anything, someone else contributed to the conversation.

"I believe the answer to your question is: Yes. Arthas must be stopped, and we're all here to see to it that he falls." The words had come from a curious elf with icy blue glowing eyes. He sounded wise and his voice felt soothing to the ear. He wore a light robe and wielded a white staff with silver accents. Floating at the end of his weapon was a medium-sized blue crystal. His skin was as pale as the snow around him. His hair almost matched his complexion and was propped up elegantly in a ponytail with a few strands in his face.

"Uh..yeah, sure. Crazy guy with a sword capable of summoning the dead is dangerous and whatnot. When do we get paid? We better get paid. We're doin the world a service here!" said the goblin warming and rubbing his hands by the fire. A tiny green fellow, the goblin wore thick leather armor and wielded a clearly broken and hastily bandaged stick for a weapon, which was stabbed into the snow. The end of the "staff" had a floating ball of fire circling around it. Similar to Verragosh's revolving ball of lightning, the goblin had his own ball floating around him, only it looked to be a globe of water. As far as features go, he had small pointed ears with each sporting two or three piercings and his semi short hair was pulled back into a ponytail. His fidgety red eyes were focused on the fire as he shivered in the cold.

"I tink the money comes when our target be choking on his own blood....does he have blood? He's dead, right? I wonder what be going through those veins...spiders, maybe?" the troll pondered at the thought and sidetracked herself. The goblin groaned at the thought of payment not being given as soon as he liked. 

Hinmogar smiled, "Don't you already have enough wealth?"

"Oh, I get it. Just cus I'm a goblin, I'm sposed to be rich? That's a stereotype and I resent that! 'Sides...the money's not for me. I owe some people."

"Some people?" the high elf smirked. "I thought you were just being your old goblin self. And since when did you care about your debts?"

"Hey, watch it, frosty. You don't see me gettin into your 'elf-y' business." 

"Morbux, you and I both know that's a lie." the elf interjected. The group remained quiet for a few moments, with Morbux grumbling to himself. The two seemed like an unlikely pair to be traveling together, but it looks like they've had multiple adventures together already.

"Well, Arthas won't be dead anytime soon, and I assume we'll be traveling together more, so while we wait for a plan to arrive, why don't we learn more about each other?" Hinmogar inquired. No one seemed to object, but no one volunteered to share their story either. Recognizing this, Verragosh said, "I think I'll take over from here."