<1> "Fall back! We cannot hold them back any longer! Into the portals!" The ogre attack had come from seemingly nowhere, and the denizens of Shattrath were desperately scrambling about to reach the portals that led to the Alliance and Horde cities. Some were struck down, but many were allowed to escape as a battalion of human soldiers had charged in to help. The Seventeenth Legion of Wrynn had been staying in Shattrath for months in an effort to acquire more knowledge about Draenor's hazards, and it was fortunate they had not been recalled before this surprise attack. Their might was strong, but the sudden flood of ogres was greater than they had expected, and one by one the soldiers began to fall beneath their heavy clubs. More and more civilians fled, and to their good fortune the ogres weren't smart enough to know how to use a portal, instead charging through one as if it weren't there at all. Once the last few of the living fled through the portals, both of them blinked out of existence as if they'd never been there at all. The soldiers had desperately pushed the orges back as best as they could, and ultimately many were saved... but the Legion of Wrynn had been decimated. Human and ogre blood alike had been spilled in droves. Not a single ogre had been left alive, and only one human yet remained among his brethren. "Urgh, Light damn them!" hissed the human male as he propped himself against the nearest stone wall. His silver-and-blue armor had been tarnished with blood from the waist down, much of it being his own. Pained grunts left his lips as he pried away his armor plates, exposing his wound before pulling a small vial from a pouch at his belt and pouring purple liquid over it. A raspy sigh of relief escaped him as the wound almost instantaneously closed, but he was certain there was still bleeding happening beneath his skin. The fix was only temporary. Still, this gave Rainier some desperately needed time. In the ensuing chaos, his pack had been left behind at the local inn across the city, and without his Hearthstone there was no chance he'd make it back to Stormwind alive. The stubborn warrior fought hard against the pain as he struggled to stand, forced to use his twin greatswords as crutches just to move. Hobbling across the city, his gaze tried to simply watch the ground, but even that was hard to look at when there were blood spatters every few feet. The inn seemed an eternity away, but with enough determination and a few small pauses, Rainier made it. But he wasn't alone. His ear was met with a sharp, distant cry from within the inn, but he was immediately certain it was no foe. His pack had been left in the common room, and to his fortune he was able to quickly find his Hearthstone... but that persistent cry gave him pause. Time was of the essence -internal bleeding could still prove fatal- but he knew deep down to ignore the cry might lead someone else to a much worse fate. He quickly shoved the stone in a pouch and hobbled off deeper into the inn. The cries led him to an abandoned bedroom, but a first glimpse inside revealed no sign of an enemy or danger. Clothing had been strewn all over the place, but there was no blood in the room itself, granting the warrior some meager relief. At the far corner of the room the cries echoed loudly from a small basket, within which laid a surprisingly small baby. A blood elf baby. A long tangle of dark red curls almost looked like blood behind her head, but the baby appeared to be unharmed by the way she cried. She couldn't have been even a year old as far as Rainier could tell, nor did she seem to be able to speak beyond her incoherent cries. As she opened her glowing green eyes, however, her crying ceased. She silently looked up at the bloodied human warrior for a long moment before she began a steady babble of baby nonsense. Tensions between the Aliiance and the Horde were at an all-time high, but such thoughts fled from the human's mind as he gently scooped the baby up in one arm. He did not hesitate, nor did he think twice, as he pulled the Hearthstone from his pouch. Blue light flooded the room, and in the blink of an eye they were gone. The gesture had allowed him only one arm to hold with, forcing him to leave one of his grandiose greatswords behind. The tiny apartment glowed gold with the morning sunlight, but despite its silence, the gentle creak of an opening door showed signs of life. A pair of vibrant, green eyes peered out from within, shortly followed by the appearance of a sprightly, female blood elf. As quietly as she could manage, the elf shut the door behind her and crept down the stairs, trying hard not to let the pack slung across her chest rattle too loudly. As she rounded the final corner toward the front door, the menacing sight of her adoptive human father suddenly came into view, his arms crossed over his bare, hair-ridden chest. It looked as if he had just jumped right out of bed, considering his disheveled hair and the pair of white boxers dotted with red hearts that gave him some relative modesty. "Morning." The elf squeaked in shock as she reeled back, throwing her arms in front of her defensively. "Hey! Hi, morning, Daddy... what're you up so early for?" Rainier's blue-eyed gaze sized his daughter up and down inquisitively. The youthful warrior's large pack was suspicious enough, but the oversized trench coat was even more unusual. "Come on, Summer. Don't make me say it." Summer looked up weakly at her father and sighed in defeat. The pack dropped to the ground with a dull *thud*, and a moment later she drew apart her trench coat, sporting the notorious Glorious Plate armor set. There was arguably more skin showing than was protected. The elf's cheeks burned as red as her crimson braid.