The Wolves at the Wall

20 years after the opening of the Dark Portal

The Third War

Pyrewood village, Stillpine Forest

He stared into the fire at the blacksmith's forge. He heard more than the clanging of steel on steel. He heard gunshots, the screaming of people being set ablaze. The orders of a mad prince ordering the death of every man, woman and child. The finger of the trigger of his blunderbuss and the cold sweat on the back of his neck.

"Master dwarf, are you alright?"

Hadgar shook his head as the blacksmith addressed him." Aye, I'm fine." he lied." How much fer ta bullets?"

"For two hundred, two silvers please." the blacksmith asked.

The dwarf nodded and handed him the coin. The blacksmith nodded with approval and in turn gave him the small satchel which held the bullets. Hadgar inspected them, they would do for now until he reached Khaz Modan and had proper dwarven ammunition. Beggars couldn't be choosers. Still, it was a decent bullet of quality. He took out another few coins and handed them to the blacksmith." Fer ta effort."

The blacksmith gave a small smile and took the coin." And they say dwarves are led by avarice, thank you."

"Yer a safe heaven inna dark an' stormy night, my friend. Ah owe yer lot a few coins more." The blacksmith was a large man, his brown apron covered his abs but the strong arms belied his occupation. There was a sad smile in his face.

"I had never met a dwarf before until today." he said." My father told me stories of how your people fought the orcs, killing hundreds for every inch of your fortresses taken."

"Aye, sounds bout right." Hadgar nodded." Ah was part o' some of that. Killed a few meself."

The blacksmith leant on his counter." Where are you staying tonight?"

"Dunnea, the inn probably. Why?"

He saw doubt in the human's eyes. Sweat ran down his face. For a moment Hadgar taught it was from the heat of the forge...except the forge had a low heat and they were nowhere near the thing.

"I... think you should leave town." he said.

Hadgar raised his brow. Now this was interesting." Leave town?"

"Yes, before nightfall." the blacksmith turned to attend to his forge." Farewell, master dwarf."

"Why leave town?" Hadgar asked.

The man did not reply, he instead placed his entire attention on the forge, like his life depended on it. Humans, Hadgar thought with a shrug of his shoulders and left the building.

As he stepped outside, he noticed the sun had nearly disappeared beneath the horizon. The orange and red sky turned darker by the second. He looked around and saw other Alliance and Gilnean personnel talking to each other, relief on their faces. Drinks were shared, stories as well. A Lordearon footman told tall tales against a Gilnean while a lone elf discussed the intricacies of magic to another Dalaran wizard like Tamara. Hadgar wondered how the meeting in the keep above went. Tamara was not entirely non-diplomatic. Things would work out. Probably.

He walked down to the street but could not help but feel a dozen eyes were aimed at him. Hungry eyes. The dwarf lowered his blue hood and peeked when he could to the people of Pyrewood. A tailor was busy refitting a torn set of trousers, his eyes glaring at Hadgar. For a moment he swore those were not human eyes that peered at him. But something else. Predatory. He turned to another villager who likewise kept her gaze at a pair of footmen talking, a feral grin on her lips. Everywhere he looked he saw that same hungry gaze from the villagers at the Alliance. Like people waiting for a pig to be slaughtered.

A cold chill ran up his spine, the same chill he felt at Stratholme. Before disaster struck. Before the killing started. You should leave town, the blacksmith said.

By the tits of his ancestors...fuck!

Hadgar looked up at the sky, he had about fifteen minutes left. He looked to the exit and was about to dash...but knew he couldn't leave. Not yet.

Will! He needed to find Will! Where was that stupid bastard?! He pounded his head quickly, trying to jog his old memory. The leatherworker! He pushed past some carousing people and ran as fast as his dwarven legs could carry him to the opposite end of the village. He prayed to the ancestors above he had enough time.

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Will knew he had enough time. The leatherworker had finally taken her vest off as her breasts swing around like mesmerising mountains of beauty as he pounded into her.

"Ah, ah, ah!" she cried with every thrust. He held on to her hips, holding her in place as her hands clawed at the bedding beneath while the bed creaked with every thud." Faster!" she demanded." Harder!"

Holy light, she was insatiable. Her legs held him in a vice grip, both of her heels hit his buttocks as he pounded into her. His right hand went to her pearl again to hasten her arrival. He flicked it vigorously with his thumb like his cock was going at her. Soon enough he felt her convulse as another rip of pleasure ran through her.

She growled as she threw her head back into the pillow, a mix of lust and... something else. Were all Lordearon women like this?

He stopped considering this as he felt his ballasts clench once more." Love, going to...come again!" he grunted.

She moved with every thrust still, his cock deep within her core.

"Yessss...!" she growled." YES!"

"Where do want it?!" he cried. He fucked her three times and each time his seed was loosened it went elsewhere. In her mouth first, her womanhood the next when he fucked her like a dog in heat and before this bout across her back. What hole was left?

"Over me!" she shouted." Come over meeee!"

He pulled out of her and began to stroke his joust. With a grunt he climaxed as his seed, which was not as much as the first load she had swallowed, rained on her. Some landed on her belly and some reached as far her breasts. He gave a tired sigh as his knees trembled. Fuck he was tired. The leatherworker pulled up her breasts and began lapping up the seed from them, her tongue pulling in every drop. She licked her own teats with wet, sloppy noises before she scooped up his seed from belly with her fingers and licked them clean.

Had he not been emptied out completely he would've found this the most arousing sight. He could already feel his cock go limp, overexerted. Overextended.

"So good..." she said, her eyes awash in lust." So tasty..."

As she licked her digits clean, her eyes glared at him with hungry intent. Demanding.

"More."

Holy light, how many times did she need to get laid? The last time he had this much sex was with four different women over the course of a day!

She lunged forward and picked up his limp wet cock and began to suck and lick it. She was insatiable! He didn't have the heart or strength to deny her.

"Love...would you mind passing oh...my satchel?" he motioned to his discarded attire to the side of the bed. She stopped sucking him for a moment, his cock clean but still flat. She growled annoyed." If this isn't erect soon, I will eat you alive!" she snarled.

That sounded a lot like a threat." No problem love, just hand me my satchel..."

With a snarl she roughly gave him his potion satchel. He flipped open the satchel and took out one of the few potions he had left. He took out one with a yellow liquid inside. Lion strength potion, it would have to do. He downed it in one go, hated the taste. The effect was immediate. The lethargy had dissipated and his cock once flaccid again became erect once more, like a soldier standing at attention.

"Gooood...." she said with a pleasing growl as she jerked his cock. She gave the thing a long lick from his shaft to his balls.

"I normally don't use performance enhancement potions but you know what they say, desperate times-"

His world turned as he suddenly found himself slammed on the bed. It gave a loud creak and he heard some of the support below the mattress snap. She was on top of him now and held him down with a strength he didn't expect from the petite woman. She leant in close, her eyes gone feral.

"Again!" she pushed him down before she aimed her sopping wet mess of her sex at his joust before she plunged herself on it. She gave out a sound much akin to a wolf's howl as she began to mount him. All Will could do was hold on to her hips as he was taken along for the ride.

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Tamara's footfalls echoed through the empty corridors of the keep. The drawbridge was lowered but no-one had come to greet her. She called out for minutes as she walked but found none within the walls. Tamara had walked into the courtyard and much like the main entrance found it abandoned. It might've been the setting sun but the whole feeling of the keep was off. A place that should be full of people and its parapets guarded by soldiers were guarded by nothing but shadows and empty sounds.

"Hello, anyone here?!" her voice echoed through the keep once more and again no reply followed.

The wizard of Dalaran carried out and went through the first door she saw. The door was half open as a small bit of light gleamed from behind it. Tamara followed the light and opened the door. She was greeted by the sight of a kitchen and the scent of food. A large pot was on the fire and yet, none were there to look over it. The work benches were still covered in blood but she saw nothing on the wooden surface aside from a cleaver embedded in it. She saw pieces of dried herbs that hung across the line, spicey for the meal.

Curiosity was always her most defining trait so of course she went to have a look at what was in the pot. Whatever it was, it smelled divine. She took off the large lid, water nearly came out of her mouth. The thing that did come out was sick as she threw up to the side after what she had seen. Legs. Human legs and arms. A severed head of a woman's bopped along, her eyes and mouth wide agape as if still screaming. Holy light, what the fuck was this?!

She threw up the contents within her stomach, trying to not throw up more. Those were people in that pot. People. Chopped up and thrown in the pot to boil. That would explain why none were there to greet her. Question was...who killed those people?

A faint blue light shimmered. She looked down and saw the light shone from under the door which led further into the keep. She wiped the sick form her mouth. In for a copper, in for a silver. She pushed the door open. Beyond lay the dining hall. It was a large room befitting its function with a long dining table in the middle. It would've been an awesome room back in its heyday but now all Tamara saw was the ruined remains. Chairs lay across the room, broken and covered in scratch mark. Plates and cups lay scattered on the ground as dirt and cobwebs covered the corners of the room. The light shone at the end of the room where a smaller table was stood in a small alcove flanked by two staircases which lead up. At the smaller dining table stood the apparition of a ghost. Faint dying sunlight came through the boarded up windows, it would be dark soon.

It took the form of a noble man white a tidy white beard who bore a monocle. He held a sceptre behind his back, as if awaiting a petitioner to meet him. Tamara approached him.

She had dealt with ghosts before, this was not different.

"Who dares approach me without an escort?" the ghost asked. He spoke with the same accent Will did. Gilnean?

"I got no time for this." Tamara held up hand and signed a purple symbol in the air. The art of necromancy was frowned upon in the hallowed halls of Dalaran and her former master did help cause the fall of Lordearon, but some lessons should not be forgotten for the sake of good manners. The ghost relaxed it's stand as the power of the spell took hold.

"I am Tamara Grimshore, wizard of Dalaran. Which spirit am I addressing?"

"I am Baron Silverlaine, ruler of this keep." he spoke dispassionately.

"What has happened to your keep, Baron?" Tamara asked.

"We were attacked by the worgen. The king and the wizard Arugal had promised they would be our secret weapon against the Scourge. Instead of fighting the undead, they turned on us." A sad pain flickered his ethereal visage." We fought our darndest. For every ten we killed, thirty more climbed over the walls. We fought for hours but our fate had already been decided before then. We fought them on the parapets, when we lost them, we fought them in the corridors. When we ran out of arrows, we fought with swords. When our swords broke, we fought with knives. We fought like animals just like they were. Me and my men made our stand here. My only regret is that I could not save my family or the servants."

She was about to question more as she noticed the sun had gone under. Darkness now reigned. Behind her in the kitchen she now heard growling, howling, the movement of many feed.

"The worgen curse has taken the village as well, you must run. Run, Tamara Grimshore. Tell our tale!"

She turned to the spirit." How do I get out of here?!"

Before it could answer, the door from the kitchen burst open. Worgen had come through, drool ran down their mouths. Their eyes hungry.

"Fuck!" she cursed and she ran up the stairs. The worgen chased after her, chairs thrown aside as they pursued like wolves after a prey. She ran up the flight of stairs, hauling herself down the corridors with the ever-louder noise of the huffing and howling of the beasts behind her. She ran past what would've been the guard room. More ghostly apparitions of soldiers appeared; she heard the faint noises of orders as they prepared for an battle to come. She ignored them and barrelled on past.

She ran up another flight of stairs, the howls ever closer behind her. She made it to the parapets above. Only one spell came to her mind. She did not think. The wizard ran towards the edge of the wall and leapt.

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The leatherworker woman slammed herself down hard on him, each impact shuddered through his spine. The bed had broken beneath them, the fall jousted his manhood inside her even further, he damn near guessed he had hit her cervix but still the woman rode on like nothing happened.

He rubbed her breasts and played with them to begin with but then had to hold on to her hips once more to have any chance of keeping up with her. She moved almost impossibly fast, his cock a mere static tool for her to pleasure herself upon. He himself had climaxed inside her once already and even now his ballasts were on the verge of spouting out even more. Were it not for the potion he would've gone limp. Holy light, this woman was an animal!

She threw her head back and howled, her hands on his chest, pinning him down like caught prey. He was about to come again as he felt her hips had begun to feel...different.

Her skin felt furry because well...it turned into fur. Her face elongated; a snout appeared from her nose as her mouth became jaws. Her eyes turned blood red as fur covered every portion of her body. The woman had turned into a worgen.

As she howled so did Will as somehow despite his fear, he had come within her. Her nails had turned to claws as she dragged them down his chest. Will cried out in pain as blood was drawn. Fear ran his mind now. He didn't dare push against her, didn't dare move. Didn't dare breathe or speak.

"So good!" the worgen woman snarled. She brought her claws to her mouth and licked his blood off her finger like he did his seed earlier." So....tasty..." He felt fear as her smile became a predatory grin." More..." She barred her teeth and lunged for his throat.

He overcame his fear just enough to scream.

BANG!

Blood covered him as the weight atop of him slumped off. The worgen fell onto the side of the bed, a gaping hole on the right side of her head. Will gasped rapidly as he tried to comprehend what happened. The fuck just happened?! Was he dead?! Was he-

"Lad!" a smack to his head woke him up." Wake up!"

Will turned, seeing Hadgar holding a smoking blunderbuss." Are yer alright, lad? Did yer get bite?"

Will shook his head.

"Good, get dressed! We're leavin'!"

It was all a blur. Somehow, he managed to get his clothes and bits of his armour in before leaving the house. He did not dare look at the body of the woman. He couldn't handle that horror right now.

They kicked through the door and were greeted by chaos. Everywhere they saw people were screaming as worgen fell on them, devouring and tearing on the people who thought themselves save mere minutes before. A few footmen and priests fought shoulder to shoulder as they attempted to hold off the incoming wave. They did not last long.

Will tried to move to help them but Hadgar pulled him with him." Yer cannea save them, RUN!"

The two ran as they could. They ran past feasting worgen, men fighting for their lives as screams ran through the village and the hounding howling of the trap well sprung. One worgen looked up from its meal, about to howl before Hadgar shot him in the face.

BANG!

The noise drew attention but they kept running. Will swiped with his blade to make a path where needed, cutting down any worgen who got in his way. They ran past the town hall, halfway through the blood-soaked village.

"ROBERTSON!" Will turned. Inside was Jacky Wald banging on the window. His two guards were being torn apart by the worgen behind him. His look was panicked, bloodshot. A panic that would freighted even the hardiest of men. A leader of men reduced to a scared child." HELP ME! HELP M-"

He was janked away from the mirror as blood splashed on the window, obscuring Will's view.

"Holy light!" Will cried but he ran again. As they reached the end of the village, they saw they were not the only ones who tried to fight their way out. Men, elves and dwarves fought brutally to get out. Desperation had turned to rage.

Some of the wizards had turned their fury on the village and actively began to burn the houses.

Will and Hadgar joined the fray, lending their madness to the struggle.

They were covered in blood, tears on their armour. Will had lost his blade inside one worgen and fought with a cleaver he had picked up from the ground. A couple of them made out outside the village, followed by a pack of worgen.

Some elected to become the rear guard, more dead heroes on a blood-soaked evening. Neither Will or Hadgar were those heroes. They ran with scant few others into the forest, the sounds of battle distancing. It was only by chance Will had looked up into the rising moon to see the strangest sight. Tamara ran across the sky as if in a downward trend. Will patted on Hadgar' shoulder to alert him. The two quickly ran to the open where Tamara was going to land. She looked exhausted as she did the last few meters, her face red, her movements sluggish.

"We got you, Tamara!" Will cried and held open his arms. Whatever magic she casted she seized and soon enough the tired mage fell in his arms.

"R-run..." she gasped." Worgen..."

"We know, lass!" Hadgar said. He had turned back, his gun aimed at the village." We got ta run!"

Will quickly gave his last potion of lion's strength to Tamara. She coughed up some of it but swallowed most. Within a minute she too was running with them into the forest, away from Pyrewood...away from the slaughter.

24 years after the opening of the Dark Portal

Wetlands

Menethil Harbour

"Fifty silvers." Olgra said as she hand out her transmorgrified human hand. The kaldorei woman, a druidess guessing by her attire which consisted of robe made of leaves and leather trousers and gloves, smiled as she took out those coins from her purse from her satchel and placed them in Olgra's hand. She counted them carefully before she handed the staff in the back to its new owner.