Red Snow and Tatterd Spires 1

Day 2; Somewhere in the Northern Sea

Varen has warned Gallius about this campaign. Normally he listened to his council, but not as much since his boys got older and bolder. Maybe it’s because of his late wife. Varen could understand this. Kind of. He would not be here with Gallius battalion otherwise.

The Tattered Spire. A mockery doing the Outland battles, when they tried to blow a hole into the walls of the Black Temple during its siege. Turned out the crack inside the palisade was exactly what the forces of the Alliance needed to infiltrate the hold and bypass the nearly impenetrable defences of the Illidari. Made them into heroes. Sort of. And when the King called for war against the undead hordes of the Lich king, all the heroes followed his call into the dark abyss.

The salty sea water hung heavy on Varens lungs. He never was much of as sea-man. Deep in the bowls of the ship, he and some other members of the Tattered Spire sat, waiting to arrive at the Valiance Keep. Their spirits were high, and why should they not be? They have not seen what Varen saw, or Jiine.

Varen did not trust shamanistic spirits and such. Arcane and Fel magic! Those were energies he could see, he could understand. Energies which are real to him, which he could bend and use to his desire. But all that talk about Spirits and the Elements was nonsense to him. Until Jiine came. The young Draenei had a born talent for the ability of Farseeing. In her dreams, she sometimes could catch glimses of the future. A talent she has proven to Varen to be real and rather correct all the time. So, when she dreamed of the gruesome deaths of all the folk, following Gallius to the north, Varen was immediately alarmed. Not for him, or the other soldiers and warrior. He could not care less about the short-minded members of this guild. It was for only one of them: Samin. The daughter of the woman he loved.