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A lesson learned


Chocoa

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The relentless rain poured from the skies like a stream flowing over a rocky outcrop, the weather had not been this dismal in many moons. Even the hyenas and vultures took solace in their lairs.

A tauren, perched on a cliff looked over the endless plains of Mulgore. He relished in the fact that during his watch, things had been very quiet. Not a soul in sight.

The tauren was suddenly ripped from his thoughts as he heard the tell-tale sign of an adventurer. The sound of metal against chain, the person was armed. The frequency of the sound, light footfalls and travelling swiftly.

This adventurer had likely not seen the tauren, who had cleverly hidden himself (as cleverly as a 7 1/2 foot tall bull could, relatively speaking) against the rocks. His rich brown color and dark hair adding to the camoflage of earth tones.

The adventurer approached, the unmistakable smell of Elven-made wine filled the air. He walked right past the Tauren's position and failed to take note, a most greivous error.

The tauren surveyed the adventurer. Lithe in form and covered head to toe in a light plate armor. The steps were surely that of a woman, and the armor was obviously handcrafted by Faerie folk. A nightelf, the tauren assumed.

"HALT!" called Chocoa to the masked adventurer, "make one movement and ill cut you down where you stand, Elf"

"Will you?" the figure called.

The voice was unmistakably a woman's voice, but something about it made the hair on Chocoa's arm stand. It was not the melodic playful voice of an elf. The voice was resonant and carried with it the unmistakable confidence that only years of travel and battle could give a voice. Being young in years, Chocoa could not place the voice.

"It would be a small matter," responded Chocoa "What business do you have in Mulgore? Why would you enter this land so heavily armed!?"

"My business is my own, and my arms are hardly heavy. Here, see for yourself" the voice stated flatly as a blade streaked by Chocoa's face, fast as lightning and pierced the rock as easily as it would bread.

Chocoa recovered from the attack, released his blade from his scabbard and turned back to face his opponent. The adventurer was gone in a heartbeat, he had heard tails of the agility and grace of the Elves, but never could believe the speed at which this one disappeared.

The tauren's heart beat at an incredible pace, the adrenaline pumping, his rage building. This was a lesson he had learned from his mentor. His father, a warrior who won countless victories and suffered a dishonorable death at the hands of an Elf assasin. As the rage began to build, Chocoa felt the grip on his weapon tighten. How light his weapon became when he was in this state.

He pushed the though aside and concentrated on finding the adventurer, an elf and likely an assasin.

Chocoa bellowed, "When I find you I will cut your pretty ears off and wear them around my neck!"

"If you could find them, I would gladly gift them to you." The voice came from behind.

Chocoa felt a pull at his face and then nothing. He turned to where the voice had come from. But there was nothing. He felt his face where he felt the pull, but felt nothing. His rage built to incredible levels, as he realized the Elf had cut off his braided bear. Unable to control the rage he stomped the ground around him with such force that the earth itself shook.

THERE! The figure appeared, as if from thin air. Chocoa charged the adventurer, full intending to deliver on his promise. Sword high in the air, what he found was searing pain that shot up the entire length of his arm as the butt of a blade met his exposed rib.

"tsk tsk, you moved too soon." The female voice was playful, but stern.

Chocoa rolled to the side, and spun faster than a tauren should move, and delivered a vicious cleave to where the female stood moments ago. How does she move so fast?

The female moved swiftly, as if she was not of this earth. She slipped her blade inside Chocoa's guard and disarmed him in one swift movement. She then pivoted on her right leg and delivered a nasty uppercut to his jaw. The hit would have felled an ogre, but only emboldened Chocoa. The rage inside was relentless. He grabbed the lithe blade arm of the female fully intended to break it at the elbow.

What he found was a deceptivly strong arm, far stiffer than it had appeared. Even worse, was the cold. Numbing cold, like the snow of winter. Before he could comprehend what was going on around him, his legs were taken out from underneath him. As he fell the female put one foot on his chest to hold him to the ground, blade perched under his chin.

"Beg." The female voice said.

"You had best kill me, because if you dont, I will find you... and I will kill you" Chocoa responded without an edge of fear.

"Beg dog!" The female voice said again, flatly.

Chocoa rolled to his right with such force and speed that he nearly knocked the blade free from the woman's hand, she back peddeled clearly surprised. He pivoted on his side and was up in the flash of an eye. A maneuver not many had seen, nor would ever live to tell the tale.

As Chocoa rushed the nightelf, she deftly side stepped and delivered a devestating hit to his mid-section. Knocking the wind out of him and releasing any rage left in him.

As he knelt over the ground, defeated, he inhaled several time quickly trying to recover from the blow.

"I've seen your father perform a movement once." The voice stated, filled with an unusual emotion, sadness.

"What?!" The impact of the words not fully setting in.

The female sheathed her blade and lifted her chain helmit. Shock overtook Chocoa as he realized that beneath the helmit wasn't the face of a Nightelf. The too pale skin and the glowing yellow eyes that looked back at him did not belong to the Faerie folk, the woman was one of the Forsaken.

The face was flawless. He had heard stories of the Forsaken, about the extent of the decay their bodies have undergone. This one, however, didn't appear dead. She had prominent cheek bones, long dark hair that appeared soft, and glowing eyes. One wouldnt be thought crazy if he described this woman as beautiful.

"Your stance is weak, your rage overtakes you. You dont think." The beautiful undead woman stated. "It will take a lot of work for you to become as great as your father was"

Shock overtook Chocoa, he was wordless. He had not met anyone who knew his father beyond his legendary tales. Chocoa always wanted to follow in his footsteps, but not tauren warrior would have anything to do with the young bull. He learned to fight from his father, but having died when Chocoa was very young, the lessons were few.

"You knew my father?" Chocoa stated after many moments.

The look upon the undead woman's face was unmistakable, she did.

"Thats a story for another time, grab whatever you can carry. We are leaving." the woman stated

"Where are we to go?! answer my question." Chocoa bellowed.

"I defeated you, others will come. If you do not learn the way of the warrior, the blade of an assassin or magic of a wizard will claim your life. Do not waste time, you have much to learn and we must begin soon." The woman reasoned

"I dont even know your name! who are you, how do you know me, who will train me?" Chocoa was able to spit out before the woman grabbed him by his thick black hair.

"My name is Selene, I know you because you look exactly like your father. He trained me, and now I will train you. That is all you need to know, we leave in one hour." She stated

The insanity of the entire situation was dumbfounding. Chocoa found himself completely confused, intensely interested in this woman and the mystery of finding out more about this Forsaken who had so easily defeated him.

"Where will I stay?" Chocoa asked.

"With me, in Brill." she answered, then she stated in an amused voice "I think you and my daughter will get along famously, her name is Evangelina."

Chocoa was not amused.

"Lesson number 1, don't underestimate your opponent. You were one fingers width from having having your neck opened and your blood drained."

Chocoa felt his closely shaven beard, the interest in the woman was quickly replaced by defeat. As he walked behind the beautiful undead woman, grumbling along the way.

"

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