*Foreword: Firstly, this is a work of fan fiction!

Any diehard WoW fans, please forgive me any errors I may have made in some of the finer details. I have played lots of WoW in my days, but it’s been ages, so if Dave makes the occasional faux pas, let me know and I’ll correct. Don’t forget to vote! Thanks in advance!*

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CHAPTER ONE:

NORTHSHIRE VALLEY

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–20^th March 2021, Location unspecified. Another typical Saturday night at 11 p.m….–

“I still don’t understand why you need to do this, Dave.”

My best mate Steve’s voice carried tones of frustration. I touched the dial on the bottom of the left earpiece of my headset, turning him down a tad. As usual, I was up late playing WoW, alone in my single-bedroom apartment, snacking on a late repast of pizza pockets and coke. Dinner of champions.

Also as usual, Steve was the last one online with me.

“Because,” I explained for the third time tonight. “It’s been ages, and I want to play through again.”

“Yeah, I get that, dumb-arse,” Steve shot back. “But why allies?“

“Why not?” I asked, amazed as usual at the depth of Steve’s loyalty to the Horde. He knows it’s just a video game, right? I could understand his point, however; in WoW, you picked a faction — Horde or Alliance — and that was that, at least for most people. I liked to jump the fence every now and then, much to Steve’s disgust. “It’s fun to start fresh sometimes, see what’s on the other side of the fence. Plus, you know… Classic! No changes!”

“The guild won’t like this,” Steve warned. “You know what they’ll say.”

“The guild can go spin,” I muttered under my breath before scooping up a pizza pocket from the plate on my desk and taking a bite. I was in a high-end raiding guild. We raided twice every weekend had done for years. I was almost fully decked out in max-level epics already, and Shadowlands had only been out for three months. It had been this way all the way back to vanilla; raid, get gear, repeat. It got monotonous, after a while. “They can’t control what I do.”

“I’m afraid I can’t let you do this, Dave,” Steve said in a monotone voice, mimicking the infamous line from 2001: A Space Odyssey.

“Just chill, man,” I grumbled around another mouthful. Steve was my oldest friend; we’d been playing together since vanilla. “I’ll be back before you know it. I don’t know why it’s such a big deal, anyway. You said you were sick of the guild, too.”

“Well, that’s true,” he replied grudgingly. “But I’ll never roll an ally over it.”

I chuckled at that, and I had to admire his integrity. “Fair enough. Look, let me satisfy my curiosity and then we’ll be tearing up raids again before you know it. Who knows? You might even come join me.” I added that last part slyly, with intent to rile him up. It worked.

“Pfft!” Steve scoffed. “I’ll let you bang my mum before that happens!”

“Still waiting on that, too,” I replied calmly. “Any day now, Mrs. Higgins is gonna learn all about pleasure from the master.”

Steve’s derisory laughter boomed through my earpieces. “Yeah right, mate! I’m not even mad because you wouldn’t know where to put it!”

“Word on the street is there’s plenty of margin for error,” I retorted.

“You- Wait, what?” Steve said, confused.

“Remind me again why I’m friends with you,” I asked him as I logged off my main — a troll mage called Ravingdave — and exited the game to reload in Classic. Steve was wrong, of course; I’d been with women before — well, two of them, anyway — but those experiences had been fleeting, awkward and singular. I genuinely liked girls — well, I liked looking at them — but I wasn’t so good at talking to them, let alone getting them interested in me. That was one of the reasons I kept to myself a lot.

Another reason was that I was not exactly physically blessed in any way, shape or form. I was a rather unfortunate combination of pasty skin, lank brown hair and watery blue eyes that looked beady in my pudgy face, behind my thick glasses. I also had several skin conditions that flared up usually at the worst possible times, and to top it all off, I was about thirty kilos overweight.

Yep, you called it; top of the line, A-grade nerd, allergies and all. The only thing that I physically had going for me was an almost constant, raging libido. Extremely frustrating when I was alone so much. It was like my body took resources from other areas — skin, metabolism, eyesight — and pumped it all into my Sex drive. Porn was a much-frequented avenue; I relieved the tension — so to speak — three or four times a day, most days.

“You’re really doing this,” Steve said flatly. It wasn’t a question. Sooner or later, however, he would give up his protests and get over it. He always did. Despite all the bullshitting we engaged in, he was a good mate. Well, as good a mate as you could have that you’d never met in real life.

That was a sobering thought; in real life, I didn’t really have any friends unless you counted the guild. Not that any of them were considered society’s winners. Maybe that’s why I liked Steve; he didn’t judge me. Well, aside from WoW stuff, anyway.

“Yep,” I said as I clicked around, changing the features for my human Paladin. What should I call him?

“Well, have fun, then,” Steve grumbled, finally relenting. “I’m done for tonight, anyway. See you tomorrow?”

“If I’m not so enthralled with my human pally I don’t have time for you,” I replied, unable to resist a cheeky jibe before he left.

“I wouldn’t be surprised. Night, mate.”

“See ya.” At that, he logged off, leaving me alone. I was equal parts happy and sad about that; I enjoyed solitude, but sometimes it was nice to have someone to talk to. I lived on my own — always had — and having a friend online broke up the loneliness when it crept up on me.

“Daveparty!” I announced to myself with a grin as I typed in the name. I liked trying to name my toons in some witty way that involved using my own name. The name was available. As I clicked ‘Enter World,’ a strange, rushing sound roared through my headset, like feedback and static and a deep, rhythmic pulsing all rolled into one monstrous noise.

Crying out in shock, I reached up with both hands to rip off my headset, but my hands never made it to my head. Everything went black…

*

I was standing in a grassy field beneath a noonday sun. In front of me was a big, stone building with a sharp-angled, tiled roof and stained-glass windows down the sides. All around the building were massive, thick-trunked trees that bore the air of long years.

There’s something familiar about all this, I thought to myself as I slowly turned on the spot to see more forest behind me, split by a paved road winding from the front of the stone building, off through the trees. In the distance, a massive stone wall stretched between two hills, the road connecting it to the building before me.

Is this a dream?

To the left of the building’s wide, tall entrance, two wagons were parked. A few men and a woman stood before them, chatting idly. The wagons were laden with swords and axes and spears, shields and breastplates and the like. A guard patrolled on the road nearby, wearing heavy plate and a blue tabard with a golden lion’s head on the front.

There was a man standing in the field before the building, only a few steps away from me in the same armour and tabard. I couldn’t see his face through the narrow T-slit in his helmet. A blue brush stood up above his head, waving gently in the breeze. He carried a sword in his gauntleted fist as if he knew how to use it.

He pointed at me. “You! Over here!”

It wasn’t until I started to move forward that I really noticed the weight on my back. Twisting to look over my shoulder, I saw the thick, leather-wrapped haft of a weapon. I pulled it Free, my eyes widening to find it was a two-handed mace made of heavy wood. My clothing consisted of a simple cloth shirt and pants of drab colours, and a pair of plain boots.

Okay, if this is a dream, it’s the most detailed I’ve ever had. Strangely, once I started moving, the clothes and hammer stopped feeling odd, as if I’d been wearing them for years. I also noticed how my body itself felt; strong, lean and hard, as if I’d spent years in the gym. It was the complete opposite of my waking body. I felt great!

Dream? What’s a ‘gym?’ The thought felt odd, as if it wasn’t my own. Waking body? This is the only body I’ve ever had. Shaking my head to clear the muddling in my head, I approached the bald man cautiously, stopping just before the first wide step.

“You!” he repeated. “You’re the new recruit from Stormwind, I take it?”

“Uh,” I started to reply, but he carried on right over me.

“I am Deputy Willem.” He had a rough, gravelly voice, one used to much shouting. “There is work for you!” he grated. “Speak to Marshal McBride inside the abbey at once!” He flung a gauntleted hand off to my left, toward the stone building.

I don’t like this dream. Wait, Stormwind? What the-? This is a WoW dream! Shaking my head again, I tried to focus on what Willem was saying, but was already finished and glaring at me.

“NOW!” he roared. Before I knew it, my feet were heading in that direction at a run. I could have said no, but something about Willem commanded obedience. Besides, it was my job to follow orders from superiors.

Wait, what was that about a dream? I’m Daveparty, a Knight of the Silver Hand, fulfilling my duty to Stormwind and the Alliance. Yes, that’s right. In the far recesses of my awareness, something buzzed, like a muted voice trying to say something, but it faded away to nothing as soon as I noticed it.

I ascended the brief flight of wide stone steps in front of the abbey and entered through the heavy double doors into a high-ceilinged corridor lined with cloth hangings in the blue and gold colours of Stormwind. At the end of the corridor a man stood, also in full plate armour except for the lack of a helmet. He was bald, with a light brown moustache and goatee.

“Citizen!” he called when he saw me coming. “We could use your help, here!”

When I reached him, I opened my mouth to introduce myself, but he rode right over the top of me. “A clan of kobolds have infested the woods to the north. We need their numbers reduced. Bring me back proof you’ve killed ten of them, and you’ll be rewarded.”

“As you command, sir!” I cried before turning away and heading for the door. Just outside, Deputy Willem hailed me again.

“You, recruit! You should speak to the hunter, Eagan Peltskinner before you head out. He has a task you might do while you’re out in the woods.”

“Very well,” I replied politely. “Where might I find him?”

“Down the western side of the abbey,” Willem said, pointing behind me. “Not far.”

I followed Willem’s directions and found Peltskinner easily enough, standing near a collection of barrels and crates. All in brown leather and carrying a nasty looking axe, he gave me a friendly nod as I approached. “Did Willem send ya?” he asked in a rough, country accent. He had long brown hair and a thick moustache I was quickly coming to realise was the fashion around these parts.

“Aye,” I replied. “Said you needed some help?”

“I do, lad,” he said gravely. “I am running low on meat, you see, but there’s an abundance of timber wolves in the forest these days. Bring me eight good cuts of wolf meat and I’ll trade you for some smart leather armour, ey?”

Looking down at my meagre protection of simple clothing, I nodded quickly. “I’ll see what I can do.” At that, I set off into the woods, a thrill of anticipation coursing through me. I was finally out on an adventure! This is what I’d always imagined doing!

I have? When? A dull ache rose between my temples, but it ebbed after a few moments. I was too excited to give it much thought.

The sun slid downwards a little way, lengthening the shadows cast by the huge, ancient trees as I entered the woods, the abbey fading into the distance behind me. I hadn’t gone too far before a huge, black wolf launched itself from behind a bush, its jaws aimed for my throat. Before I could even cry out, my body acted on its own, drawing the hammer from my back fluidly. The heavy wood took the wolf in the jaw in a left-to-right swing, crumpling the beast. I stepped aside as it slid to a stop at my feet.

Whoa! That was brilliant! Spurred by the thrill of combat, I searched for my next opponent. I didn’t have to wait long. Another wolf appeared and dashed forward, uttering a savage growl and flashing long fangs that could rend flesh like steel through butter. This time I knocked its bite away with the haft before countering with a brutal knock to the ribs. The sound of bone splintering echoed, making me wince even as I followed up with a downward stroke, caving in the beast’s skull.

I was fighting as if I’d been doing it my whole life; instinctively, intuitively. Grinning, I turned to meet the next wolf.

All too soon, I had a collection of eight dead beasts around me, all lying motionless on the forest floor. Blood trickled down my left arm from a tooth that had found skin. A similar wound decorated my right thigh. They didn’t feel serious, and they hadn’t slowed me down enough to worry me. Grimacing, I drew the small knife at my belt and bent to begin the butchery, keeping a careful watch for any more wolves that might be lurking in the undergrowth.

Alright, this is a bit gross, I muttered mentally as I worked, sawing through hair, skin and flesh. Absently, I wondered why I was even doing this at all, but the thought drifted away like smoke almost before it formed. All that mattered for now was finishing the job. Yes, that’s right. I need to complete the task. The job consumed me, and I forgot about all else for a while. The fact that I knew how to butcher an animal did not occur to me as odd, but then, why would it?

Standing, I hefted the bundle onto my back, hoping the blood didn’t drip onto my clothes. Frowning, I thought about my next move. I still had the kobolds to do, further into the forest, but I didn’t want to carry this wolf meat around all day. Figuring it would be useful to get Peltskinner’s reward and come back after, I turned back for the abbey.

Maybe an hour since I’d left him, I returned to Peltskinner with a hefty pile of wolf meat wrapped in a skin. “Here you are, sir,” I said proudly as I presented it. “Eight good cuts, as requested.”

Peltskinner grunted and took the bundle. “Well done, recruit,” he with a grin. “Here.” He tossed a small bag at me. I pulled the string open and looked inside to see a pair of leather bracers. “For your service. They’re wolfskin.”

“Thank you!” I said gratefully as I pulled on the bracers. They fit perfectly, and though they were not of great quality, they were better than having bare arms. The bag I tucked behind my belt; you never knew when it might come in handy.

Waving goodbye to Peltskinner, I turned and headed off again, this time kobold bound. It was easy to pass through the wolf territory, now that I’d culled so many of them. The walk through the forest was almost peaceful, at least until I came upon where the kobolds were massing. Once I was close, I crept as quietly as I could, using the undergrowth to stay out of sight.

Gathered in an open space between the softly rolling hills was a clan of kobolds, just as McBride had said. They stood huddled around a small campfire, chittering back and forth in a high-pitched, guttural language I didn’t understand.

They resembled tiny, bearded dragons, only about three feet tall with long snouts and wide nostrils. I grinned; there were no more than ten of them; just the number I needed. This should be easy. With a roar, I charged forward, unlimbering my hammer. As one, the kobolds looked to see what the racket was. At the sight of me, half of them recoiled in fear, while the rest screamed shrilly and ran to meet me, small knives or hammers or axes in clawed hands. As soon as they were in range, I swung my heavy mace in a righteous fury, throwing the weapon around as though it were made of paper.

I summoned one of two abilities I possessed: Seal of Righteousness. The magic washed through me, lending extra power to my swings. The kobolds screamed in agony when the hammer connected, the fat head crushing heads, arms and legs like twigs. I fought in a frenzy, my blood pumping in my ears, until finally there were no more. I grounded the head of the mace and leaned on it, breathing hard. The seal drained away a short time later, expended.

When I bent to inspect a kobold body, I winced at a pain in my ribs. A glance down showed my shirt torn and stained with blood where a kobold dagger had gotten through. Without thinking, I called on the second of my powers: Holy Light. I was filled with a warm, pleasant sensation, and I felt the skin around the cut begin to pull together as it healed.

Amazing! I have the power to heal! Confusion hit me momentarily, then my thoughts righted themselves. Of course, I have the power to heal. I’m a paladin.

The glow faded, and I exhaled, staring around at the mess I’d made. Ten kobolds lay strewn around the campfire in varying poses, all dead. I chewed my lip thoughtfully as I considered how to deliver proof to McBride that my task had been completed.

The candles. Take the candles. I frowned. That had not been my thought. Pain stabbed my head suddenly, and I was on my knees, supporting myself with a hand on the ground. The other hand went to my head. As soon as it had come, the pain went, leaving me confused. Was there something wrong with me?

“Take the candles,” I muttered to myself as I got back to my feet. “Neater than taking their tails.” McBride would accept that, for kobolds never parted with their candles; it was some sort of fixation they had. I fashioned a knapsack out of a ratty kobold cloak and stuffed the wax sticks inside for easy carrying.

Hitching my bundle, I headed back to the abbey, ready to turn in my trophies. Despite the late hour, there were still people about as I walked up the western side of the building. The merchants were there, still in the same positions they had been. Fat lanterns hanging from their wagons illuminating their wares. They’d been chatting amongst themselves, but as I passed, they fell silent, their eyes following me.

Ignoring their stares, I ascended the steps and entered the abbey. McBride was still standing there at the end of the corridor, illuminated by tall candelabras that had been lit in my absence. I wondered if he ever moved from that spot. “Ten kobolds dead, sir,” I announced happily as I dropped the bundle at his feet. “I brought their candles as proof.”

McBride eyed me with a raised brow. “Let’s take a look, here.” He bent and pulled open the bundle, revealing the candles. “I’ve not seen a kobold part with one of these and still have breath in its body. Well done, lad!” Straightening, he tossed me a small pouch that clinked when I caught it. “For your efforts.”

“Thank you, sir!” I crowed, exulting in my first pay.

“Don’t get too excited, boy,” he continued. “There’s more to be done. Always more. First, take this.” He handed me a thick envelope, stamped and sealed in red wax. “Read it, then take it to Brother Sammuel, further inside the abbey, there.” He jerked a thumb over his shoulder to punctuate.