Disclaimer: I do not own anything of the Warcraft, World of Warcraft, or any vague representation of it. To those of you who think other wise: eat Murlock jacks.
This is going to be my first Warcraft fan fiction that follows the travels of a warrior named Chargien Shieldsword as he meets friends, old and new alike, along with enemies. Along the way he meets a Dwarf, two Night Elves, an Orc, A Turen, a Blood Elf, two humans, and many other allies.
Chapter One: A New Day
Chargien woke to the sun on his face. He frowned before sitting erect and looked out the window of his room onto his humble little farm in Northshire Valley. It was quite and tucked away at the edge to where no one would really notice it. He lived alone so he could have a small farming patch to feed him self and have food to sell in the markets at town.
Sighing he stood to get dressed. Pulling on his clothes he started down stairs into the small kitchen that he used to cook food. Pulling out a couple turnips that were going to go bad soon anyway he started a fire in the hearth and placed the vegetables on the wooden table. Fishing through a drawer he snatched out a knife and started slicing at the turnips with practice ease. What few in the town knew about him was that he used to be a soldier. Chargien had fought in the first war as a teenager, barely old enough to hold a sword, against the Horde. After the war had ended and the orcs imprisoned he thought he would have some peace. Yet, that peace had been short lived because then Thrall had escaped Durnhold Keep and started freeing the orcs. Chargien had been glad the young warrior escaped Durnhold because he hated who ever was in charge… what was his name? He couldn't remember any more. He never really cared anyway. When he and what was left of his regiment were sent to help quell the uprising he expected little. When they captured the legendary Grom Hellscream he had felt a sense of foreboding knowing they had picked a fight with something they shouldn't have. That was proven when the flood of green skinned warriors flooded over the small hills laying waste to their tiny army. Chargien him self had been the last to stand against them at the ships. Badly wounded he stood face to face with Thrall and Grom. He had stared them down and dared them to cross blades with him, "I shall not fall as easily as my brothers did." Was what he had said as h stood there. They had both looked at him in bewilderment, and then it dawned on him. He repeated him self in orcish. Then for good measure, "Lok'tar Orgar." This seemed to impress them. He had raised his sword and charged them, but to his immense pleasure and mortification he didn't fall very easily. He had been able to kill four of the orc warriors attacking him before he fell. They had left him for dead, with right performed for his bravery. Then he had survived long enough for some one to find him and heal him. They put him back on the front lines as soon as his wounds were healed. He had not seen Thrall or Grom since.
Then Arthas raised Stratholme. Lady Jaina collected all the people she could muster and brought them all to Kalimdor. Chargien was among them. His home had been raised along with the burning city. On Kalimdor they clashed with the orcs several times before their marches brought them all to the Stonetalon Mountains. There the human forces held fast with flagging strength against the orcs, trolls, and turen, in a hope that Lady Jaina could find this 'prophet'.
As the battle was reaching a crescendo Jaina, Thrall, and an unknown figure stepped out of the cave. From there the Horde and Alliance entered into a alliance unlike any the world had ever seen. Yet, it did not last long until they discovered that the demonic Burning Legion was invading Azeroth. The new allied army marched north into the forests of Ashenvale to meet the Night Elves and bring the Warsong Clan back into the fold. The last days of the war that Chargien remembered was on the slopes of Mount Hyjal, with Nordrassil crowning it's peak. That day Chargien felt he was invincible as the unending army of undead and demons flooded up the mountain to tear it down. Human fought beside orc, who fought beside troll, who fought beside elf, all to hold a fleeting hope that they could defeat the unstoppable army of the Scourge and the Legion. At the end of the day as the sun was setting and Chargien's seemingly infinite strength started to flag he watched as Archimonde strode up the side of the mountain to the tree. Though it still dwarfed him the titanic demon was a sight to behold. When he went in the blinding flash of light that charred the ground for countless miles around the demons were torn from the world, and the mortals knew that they had victory.
It had been shortly after that Lordaeron was raised to the ground by the maddened prince Arthas and crowned himself king before vanishing into the Northern lands. Chargien received countless medals of bravery and was given an honorable discharge at his request. At age 26, his friends asked him what he planned to do now that he had seen the world. He gave them his simple answer, "I'm going home."
And that was how he, a warrior who knew more of death, destruction, war, fighting, and camaraderie then any soldier currently in Stormwind's armies was now on a farm in the backside of no where he was cooking spoiled soup. He had stored his battered armor away along with his Truesilver Champion he had named Faith. Now he was a simple farmer no one noticed, a simple person seeking a nice harvest. Smiling at his recollection Chargien finished his soup he had put together without thinking about it much. Then gathering hatchet and shovel he started out side to his plot.
After a few hours he had the plow hooked up to his horse that had been his companion ever since the first war. Arvex was a trust worthy animal. Built for power and endurance he could ride for days without tiring. Now he worked for hours without tiring himself out. He was a majestic black beast. He was also his only friend left in this world. Chargien had kept up with news of his friends that survived the Third War most of them died because they got cocky. Others died for stupid things. The last few still alive worked in Stormwind. Chargien him self preferred a silent life now here in Northshire.
It had been only a few hours until he was done plowing his small field and Aria; an aspiring mage from the village came for her usual visit. Apprentice she may be but she had proven to be powerful, even to Chargien. He had watched her pick up a tree and turn it into so much mulch in the blink of an eye. Powerful: yes, competent: not very. She was still young and wished to follow her father's footsteps. Chargien never complained. The young blond who was slightly attractive walked up with her slight stiffness all the elder villagers held around him and made a curtsy, "Hi, sorry I haven't visited in a while. Been a little busy."
Chargien smiled, "No problem here. I thought something had come up." Not long after he had come Aria had made it her personal duty to come for visits. Of any and all sorts, no questions asked and none received. The ex-soldier never really cared, he was glad for the company. He picked up a sack and smiled at her, "I was heading into town anyway, want to come along?" She agreed instantly, Aria loved Arvex, yet she didn't get a chance to ride him often, and Arvex also loved when Aria rode him. Why was beyond Chargien what ever he tried to figure out, some times he decided was because they acted a lot alike. He smiled at the thought.
It took only a couple minutes to get Arvex saddled and the rusty old sword Chargien kept handy for any and all occasions strapped to him. Then once he pulled himself up he gave Aria a hand up. Then they were off.
Not long after they arrived at the town. It was anti-climactic for the region, but it was humble. Only a few buildings made it up and they were small. There was the town hall where the small town guard held quarter, the general store that stayed in business by selling seed to farmers and a few other things to the odd traveler that came through once in a while. Other then that it had a couple small houses and a few other buildings.
First oddity Chargien noticed was that the guards were about. The resident mage, also Aria's master was talking to the captain and the mayor. The ex-soldier climbed down from Arvex and so did Aria, the duo walked to the small meeting, "What's wrong?"
The Captain answered first, "Kobolds have been sighted in the area. Droves of them apparently, and they're heading right for us. We're getting ready for it, it's going to be the largest attack we've had since the orcs came to Azeroth." He said the name with spite. Few humans cared for Orcs any more, Or any member of the Horde for that matter. Tensions had flared to where open war was inevitable. Only recently had the actual fighting broken out. Arathi, Ashenvale, and Altaric were the three major points of the confrontation. Chargien sighed, he had been with Lady Jaina Proudmoore when she had brought her people to Kalimdor, and there Chargien had forged friendships with Orcs and Trolls that out shined his human friendships. He held all who hated the races in contempt but not openly.
The mage answered next, "We sent word to Stormwind for aide but they said we would have to deal with this problem on our own. We need every able-bodied man we can to help with the defense of the village." He glanced at the rusty weapon I had strapped to Arvex, "Would you be willing to help? Aria will, since she is my apprentice and under my orders." The young sorceress grunted. She didn't like any one ordering her about, but she put up with it when necessary.
Chargien nodded, "I'll be glad to help. It has been a while since I was in a fight… I'll need to fetch my armor from my house; and my real weapon. When is this attack supposed to happen?" He drew himself up, and the three older men suddenly seemed to look at him in a new light. It had been a long time since had been in combat, but he would be far more help then the entire village guard combined. He mounted Arvex with a renewed vigor and his old friend seemed to catch onto what was happening because his spirit returned, "I shall return swiftly my friends."
They nodded to him as he spun the beast around and rode off at speeds Chargien had never thought to accomplish since the war ended. It took him a fraction of the time it normally did to return to the small farm. He marched into his home to the chest he had been using as a nightstand and swept aside the small pile of books. He opened the lid to reveal the still-glimmering chest piece and shoulder guards. He pulled out the armor and aligned it on his bed. Smiling he slowly donned it, first the leggings, then the boots, then the chest piece, the arm guards, then the gauntlets, and last his shoulder pieces. He looked into the mirror to see a soldier he had never expected to see again. Clad in steel he looked every inch the proud Azrothian lineman. One who had been through five levels of hell and returned. He went to the kitchen and opened a long-abandoned cupboard and withdrew Faith. The long magic-imbued blade that could slice through demonic armor with the greatest of ease was still sharp. He put it in its strap on his back. Chargien Shieldsword, one of the veterans of the Third War. A soldier who had vanished into the annals of history's lost names walked out of the front door of the small farm. He walked to the stables where Arvex had withdrawn and flung the doors open with a loud crash. The black stallion looked up slowly, and nodded. He knew what was coming. The soldier smirked as he opened another, much larger chest and pulled out his stead's armor. A black plate that had given even Orcs and demons pause was strapped to the beast. The soldier pulled on his dusty, un-used cloak and mounted his friend. As one, like so many times before rode away from the stables. Yet, this time it was not to fight Orcs, Trolls, Turren, or Demons. This time it was to fight a lesser foe, but a foe nonetheless. It had been too long, thought Chargien Shieldsword. His title among his friends had been Shadow Walker. Few demons had left Azeroth not knowing that name. Few who had left the final defense of Mount Hyjal had left not knowing that name. He had stood alone in a maelstrom of demons to buy his allies time. It had been the depth of what had seemed an endless night. Arvex had been clad in his black armor, and Chargien in his. They had been a shadow in the night that no flaming demon could pass without dieing. Infernals, Fel Guard, Doom Guard, and even the 'mighty' Nathraziem had fell before his blade, or Arvex's hooves. That night, that pass had become a flaming blood bath. He had stood alone against the endless horde of demons with strength like he had never known guiding his hand. When dawn had broke and reinforcements arrived to aid him he was standing alone in the carnage, demons waiting far beyond the reach of his blade hoping for a moment to strike him down. A moment of weakness! It never came; the new force had arrived to find a wounded soldier and a wounded horse that were holding an entire army at bay. The demon's eyes were filled with obvious fear, but when the sudden blast over came them all the war came to a crashing end. Chargien had felt depleted beyond reason, and Arvex nearly died of his wounds. That had been the reason the soldier chose a quite life. To avoid a situation like that again, he did not want to lose his last friend.
When he arrived at the village everyone stopped to stare. Including the trio who led the village, and Aria. He slid from his mount and everyone stepped forward at once. Aria was faster then all of them, "I never knew! You were a soldier?" That stopped all of them. Apparently they all wanted to ask some form of the same question.
"Yes I was. I was part of the defense that stopped the demons at Mount Hyjal." He removed his helmet and smiled at Aria, "Not many a creature can stand against me."
The captain blurted out his informal name in disbelief, "Shadow Walker!"
Aria looked at her master in confusion, then the captain, "What?"
"The greatest fighter below the stars any have ever seen! Even the fables Night Elves!"
Chargien frowned, "The Night Elves are quite real thank you, and yes I am Shadow Walker. How ever un-official a title that is by whom ever bestowed it upon me."
The captain snorted, "The King made it official as soon as he heard of your escapades. He was very impressed." Chargien sighed, now he had to endure this from the village from now on. Suddenly the alarm sounded, the bells screeched through the air as the town militia scampered to the river on the edge of town.
Now was the time to renew his skills!