A Struggle

"No! She...she..." But he couldn't finish his sentence. It hurt him to dig up the memory, the memories of what he'd seen...of what he had been shown. It felt like dying. He was on his knees, weakened by the despair that gripped him. He felt tears rolling down his cheeks, but his sobs, his release of the pain, of the bitterness, would not come.

"She is human, Lancesalot, as are you. And as you very well know, humans are not perfect, they are flawed. So you have two options: you can stay here, linger in this confusion, this place of exile, with the guilt of what you have not done and the burden of your failure...or you can rise above it, you can forgive her for being human and for being foolish. We both know that your foolishness often knows no end."

Lance opened his eyes, trying to draw in a deep breath. He felt his body being lifted off the ground, as though two very strong hands pulled him up to his feet by his shoulders.

The apparition spoke again. "Lance, gather your wits and your composure. Stop seeking vengeance and stop looking for your own demons. If you think it was hard protecting her the first time...it is unlikely you'll be able to comprehend how hard the coming times will be for you...and for her. Stay close to her and don't leave her side. Wait for this blood elf to come for her...and then, and only then, when the murderer and his companion have been taken care of, can you return to the depths of your despair...then you can mourn the loss of what you once had. Don't be a fool. Pull yourself together and return to the outlands of Kirin Tor and find her. Keep her safe. Show the humility we both know you have inside of you. Do whatever it takes, no excuses."

Lance frowned, his gaze wavering as his eyes opened and shut. He nodded weakly. "I will return to her. I...I feel empty and fractured without her here. I can't change what has happened, and neither can she. Just because the opportunity wasn't presented to me does not mean that..." He sighed and nodded slowly.

The apparition smiled at him. "Yes...had the opportunity been presented to you, it is likely you would have folded and given in, too. Therein lies the difference: you weren't tempted, she was. Do not fail, Lancesalot. Go back to her, forgive her...and seek her forgiveness. You and I both know, there is more to her wounds...than meets the eyes." He winked at him and turned to walk away.

"Wait! How...how do I get back? I have no idea where I am, never mind how to get where I am going."

"You make it sound so difficult, so complicated. All you have to do...is wake up, Lancesalot."

He felt a tension in his body, like every muscle in his form tensing all at once and then burning. He winced with pain as the suffocating effects grew worse. He heard the voice of his friend, calm, but slowly growing louder, and less under control, repeating the phrase over and over. "Wake up Wake up. Wake up!"

Lance saw his world bend and then twist, warping and then swallow itself. He stirred, feeling stone on his back. He was on the ground, supine and sore. He looked to see who had been so determined to rouse him.

"What are you doing here?"

"What am I..." He sat up, pausing as he looked around. He was in the catacombs of the Cathedral of Light. He grunted and looked around. He rubbed his eyes and looked back at the person staring at him. He furrowed his brow and moved to stand, groaning as he did. His entire back felt as though it had been pelted by the blunt of a mace or the head of a staff. He held his back as he looked to the woman. "Do I know you?"

She blinked at him and bit her lip. "Well, I-"

Lance smiled at her, shaking his head, and huffed a weak laugh. "Never mind. Thank you for waking me up. If I'd slept there any longer, I probably would have died."

She nodded at him. "How you managed to fall asleep at all...is a mystery to me."

He groaned softly to himself, nodding. "It's a mystery to me, as well. Thank you though."

She smiled awkwardly. "Of course."

He walked up to the surface of the cathedral and looked around a long moment. He heard someone calling for him. He turned and walked over toward the voice.

"Grayson?"

"Lance? Oh, praise the Light! Where have you been?"

"Where have I been? I...I don't know."

"Well, never mind that. Listen to me, Arthas...the Lich King...he has... Lance, you must travel to Northrend. It is imperative that you take the next boat out of Stormwind and head north to the Borean Tundra."

Lance just stood there, puzzled. "What? Northrend? Lich King? I...yes, yes of course! Right away!" He started walking away, and then stopped. He turned back to look at Grayson. "Wait, did you say...a boat out of Stormwind?"

Grayson looked at him like he was stupid. "Yes...from here, from Stormwind, at the dock."

He looked at Grayson, utterly confused. "There...but there is no dock in Stormwind...the only dock for...is in Strangethorn or at the Wetlands."

Grayson shook his head and sighed. "No, Lance, there is a dock in Stormwind. Look, just head out of the Cathedral to the right and head toward the canals, then, make another right and head straight. You can't miss it."

Lance still seemed a little disoriented, but nodded slowly. "Ok..."

He ran down the steps and ran out around the corner where the wall had now been opened up. He looked over the expanse of the sea and the new harbor. He gaped at the speed with which, it seemed, this place had been constructed. He started to walk out towards the dock, when he heard someone whisper to him.

"Lance! Come here!"

He turned, caught off guard by this stranger. "Who are you? And more importantly, how do you know who I am?"

"Never mind that, listen, you don't want to take this boat. The tundra is a terrible place. What you should do is get on a gryphon and fly to the old harbor, at Menethil. On the side of the dock where the boat to Auberdine used to dock is a different boat. It will take you to the Howling Fjord. Nestled in the mountains, the Alliance Vanguard have made their base. You should travel there, instead. The masters there can teach you a higher echelon of cooking, herbing, and alchemy. You should go, and hurry!"

Lance eyed this man with suspicion. "Why should I listen to you?"

"Because it's what Magdalia would want, Lance."

Lance moved forward and grabbed the stranger by the lapels. "How do you know that name?! Who are you?!"

The stranger held up his hands. "Now...don't be hasty. Please, put me down and let's talk about this, Paladin."

Lance glared a long moment and noticed the guards watching. The stranger knew what buttons to push, and Lance sighed, knowing that, as a paladin of the Alliance, his behavior was expected to reflect a higher standard than that of commoners. He slowly put the man back down on his feet. "Where is Magdalia," he persisted, his voice more calm.

The man shook his head. "I don't know. I've not seen my sister in Stormwind for a very long time, but she spoke highly of you. I would hate to see you suffer the same fate as those who've ventured from this dock. Trust me, take the tram to Ironforge or fly over the burning steppes and the gorge to Menethil and take the boat from the dock to Auberdine. You'll land in Valgarde at the base of Utgarde Keep."

Lance watched this man a long time, staring at him. He didn't know whether or not to trust him, but after a moment, he slowly nodded. "Very well Stranger, I'll do as you've advised."

He summoned up his horse and rode away, riding through the canals back to the trade district. He approached Longdrink and paid for a flight, watching as the forgotten sceneries of the forest and the mountains move underneath him. He smiled and closed his eyes, loving the feeling of the fresh air on his face. He watched as the ground rushed up to him and his ride landed in the grass. He summoned his horse and ran out to the dock, waiting patiently for the ship.

He was not disappointed when he saw it either, inlaid with iron and designed to break through the ice of Northrend. Lance hurried aboard and took the journey up into Northrend. He smelled the cool breeze and felt the air chilling his armor. He looked around and watched as a red proto drake came in for a pass overhead. He was anxious to learn more about this place.

Lance disembarked from the ship, mounted on his charger, and rode over to the first person on the dock before moving on to speak to each officer one at a time. The Vanguard were passionate about their cause and made it clear that they had suffered a great deal to ensure that the base would not be going anywhere. The admiral directed him north, asking for his assistance with the savages of the land that were constantly assaulting the fort. He spoke to the grand masters of herbalism, alchemy, and cooking and then geared up to head for the front lines. As he stepped outside the inn and called his steed once more. He crossed the stream that seem to serve as the boundary between the Vrykul and

The primitive dragonflayers fought with a tenacity he had not known before or ever seen from any human, but as he fought and defeated each of the invaders, his heart went out to the Vanguard. If they were forced to do this on a constant basis, it was likely their resolve knew no limits.

Riilynaer had just disembarked the boat traveling from Menethil Harbor to Valgarde, swinging up astride that imposing black mount she had. The crisp white markings offset the darkness of the mount as well as his tack, the sound of plate armor moving as her right foot settled into the stirrup, her left hand holding the reins as her right lay against the plate encasing her thighs and legs. Her heels nudged the animal into motion as those long legs had carried the death knight swiftly over the ground and out of the small port city. However, such would not be smooth sailing. Nordic Vrykul and their wolves pounded the entrance to Valgarde, which caused those glowing ethereal eyes to gleam wickedly towards her targets. Her hand reached behind her to remove that great ax she carried as a weapon. She would leave her mount within the safety of the city after swinging her left leg over and hopping down from the animal. Both hands gripping the handle of the axe after her death and decay bubbled around a Vrykul and the wolf as that massive, two-handed ax would be put into motion, cutting through the air to impact her target. She gathered the foolish Vrykul figured such would be a walk over fight. Little did they know such would be far from actuality as she would cast Bloodboil against him before another big swing was brought from that ax.

Lance disembarked from the ship, mounted on his charger. He was armored from head to toe with the most heavy plate armor he'd been able to find inside the forbidden walls of Karazhan. He stood at the medium height, and his golden steed shined in the light of the sun overhead. He rode over to the first person on the dock, speaking quickly with him before moving on to speak to each officer one at a time. The Vanguard were passionate about their cause and made it clear that they had suffered a great deal to ensure that the base would not be going anywhere soon. The admiral directed him north, asking for his assistance with the savages of the land that were constantly assaulting the fort. He crossed the stream that seem to serve as the boundary between the Vrykul and Valgarde and began picking them off, consecrating the ground beneath him with his holy power. The primitive dragonflayers fought with a tenacity he had not known before or ever seen from any human, but as he fought and defeated each of the invaders, his heart went out to the Vanguard. If they were forced to do this on a constant basis, it was likely their resolve knew no limits. He was able to fight them one and two at a time, but he found himself struggling when he tried to take anymore than two of the men or their dogs. He watched as he managed to keep his shield between two of the dragonflayers, but then he saw three of their dogs running at him. He called up the power of life from the ground that his familiarity with herbs had given him power to summon, hoping the life they yielded to him would help him survive the fight he saw coming. He vanquished one of the attackers, shocking him with all the power of the light and then judging him with the fury of righteousness, but he feared he would not be able to fight three of their ferocious beasts whilst he battled with the last dragonflayer.

Riilynaer heard the sounds of another nearby, but was focused on the two before her, at least until they both collapsed lifeless to the ground. Pivoting to face the one, and seeing the lone individual fighting him and the three dogs approaching, she out stretched her left hand, death coiling one of those dogs off the ground to be set before her as that grand two-handed ax, which would waste little time in laying into the dog before giving the paladin a fighting chance with the two dogs.

He watched as the ropes of light purple and green lashed out from the unseen death knight, the coil's grip pulling it towards it as he threw out his mace, incapacitating the Vrykul with his hammer of justice. He managed to battle down one of the beasts before the Vrykul came out of his daze, giving him long enough to call on the Light to grant him the life he needed to survive the rest of his confrontation. He beat the dog down, helping its muzzle find his shield each time it went to attack and used his mace to parry the attacks from the Vrykul weapon. He killed the dog and then diverted his attention back to the invader. He smashed his mace down on him again and then cast his judgement before ending the battle by throwing down his hammer of wrath upon his attacker. He didn't sheathe his weapons, however, turning quickly to the death knight, waiting for it to attack him. He had heard of the Lich King's servants, the ones that inhabited the far north that he'd been instructed to travel to. He had not been present when the king, who had recently returned to Stormwind, had instructed the peoples of the Alliance to accept the fallen death knights as allies. He felt all the rage and fury he felt for the scourge and the suffering the fallen prince had caused Azeroth, building inside of him as he prepared to fight. He had no idea how one had snuck into Valgarde, or why the Vanguard were not attacking it, but he knew that his confrontation with the Vrykul invaders would feel like a gryphon ride compared to defeating a death knight of the Lich King.

She would rain down blow after blow with that menacing ax in her hands, the gleaming steel stained red from the blood that had been spilled. Once there were two remaining, attacking the holy fighter, instead of drawing one to her, she would bring that blade to them. They would have two to contend with now. She and the one whose attention they seemed to have. Within a matter of moments, the two would fall, leaving the death knight and the paladin facing one another. Her menacing ax would be cleaned before it was replaced upon her back and a whistle given to her mount. Noticing that he still stood ready to fight, even though there were none, save those of the Valgarde whom had fought others around them. Her hand held the reins beneath the bit between the chargers teeth, saying in a voice that was a mix of almost being mechanical with a twinge of a Russian or Ukrainian accent to it. "Stay your weapons, while you can, for I am sure those we just encountered will be back." Those glowing blues looked to him as she would watch and wait. If he made the first move towards attacking, she would retaliate easily and bring that ax forth once more, but she watched and waited. She was a formidable fighter, yes, but not a mindless murdering monster enslaved to a dark lord.

Lance risked looking around and behind him to see who she was talking to. He didn't realize she might be speaking to HIM. Her voice held all the death and power of the fallen prince, but he managed not to flee, holding his ground. But, he worried that another, a second servant of the Lich King, was moving somewhere behind him or around them. He knew he would not be able to defeat two of these and he felt his face paling behind the red armor of his helm. He felt his emotion building inside of him, rage and hate and a savage lust for vengeance, but despite his fury, no words would come to him. He found himself dumbfounded, and not even by her hand, but by his own petrification. He felt the hairs on his neck stand on end as he waited, in what felt like the most insufferable apprehension, for whatever she had in mind to come to fruition.

Those glowing blues watched him as he looked behind him. Reading his body language told her everything she needed to know of why he stayed silent. She would remount that dark horse and settle into the saddle as the horse rose to its hind legs. Front hooves slicing through the air before settling on all fours. Its neigh too seemed to have been drudged forth from the depths of hell before silence came. "'Tis you who I speak to, Paladin..." Her words pausing to see if he would speak, or remain quiet in the face of her and her armored mount, who was equally just as terrifying for people to lay eyes on. She would wait for his response, if any would come, but no hostile movements would be given towards him.

When he saw the horse she summoned dug its way from what it seemed like were the very depths of hell, he jumped back reflexively and called on his own horse, the charger almost a complete opposite, glowing with golden armor. He reached up and leapt onto its back and it reared back on its hind legs a moment before settling on the ground again. "What do you want, death knight?! Why have you chosen to violate this sanctuary of the Alliance with your presence? Go back to the depths of hell from which you were made and leave this land in peace!" He pointed an angry finger at her as he yelled back at her. He felt his power building inside of him as he kept his rage reigned in just enough to stay on his mount and prevent himself from foolishly attacking her. "I do not care why you have come here, or for what purpose, but servants of the scourge and of the fallen prince are not welcome in Valgarde!"

Those glowing blues narrowed when he mentioned the Lich King, causing the blood in her to flare with anger. "I serve no such bastard, Paladin..." He would hear the malice and venom which laced those very words spoken. She wasn't going to attack him unless he made such a move on her. "Are you going to banish me to hell for having just helped save you from a battle that would have claimed you had I not intervened?" She hardly batted an eye as his mount countered and reared as hers had done. Silence falling between them as she would wait for his return to what had been said by her.

He felt himself hesitate as he tried to understand. No explanation that he could come up with made sense. Of course...a death knight in Valgarde, in itself, made no sense. He felt the hand that had so angrily pointed a finger at her, retract, and he tried to piece together what was going on. "You...because..." His chest rose and fell as he tried to respond, to find a response even, anything. "Maybe...for...whatever reason...you wanted...a fair fight...against me...and...killing me...while I was being attacked...was...beneath...you." The confidence in his words dwindled with every syllable, until it was apparent that even HE didn't quite believe what he was saying. "I don't pretend to be familiar with the behaviors that servants of the Lich King exhibit, but it is no mystery to me what you really are..."

She would nudge her mount to walk towards his so the two were side by side. Slender fingers wrapping into the neckline of his breast plate and pulling him froward in the saddle. She had no qualms making him uncomfortable like this. That voice of hers dropping in intonation as she would say almost between ground teeth. "The knights of the Ebon Blade have no ties to the Lich King..." her words pausing as she would say to him, as lips curled into a grin and replied, "I can fight fair and dirty if I desire, Paladin, but fair is more challenging and therefore more fun. If I were in service to the dark lord, these people would not be alive to defend their homelands, Paladin..."