The ship rolled upon the ocean, creaking and groaning like some great leviathan with each wave that broke upon its bow. It was late into the night. In the distance the dull thudding hammers of the shipwrights continued their repairs from the evenings assault.
In their shared quarters the Sixth Cohort of the Seventh Legion lay still, most fallen to slumber with slow steady breaths. Grace shifted in her hammock, the rhythmic rocking not dissimilar to the carts she had slept in as a child, surrounded by pelts and fresh leathers as her and her mother took their wares to markets either in Redridge or the further reaches of the Capital or Westfall beyond.
Redridge. Westfall. The Abbey. Home. These places had seemed so far apart, leaving the night before to have chance to set up stall before the morning traders arrived. She had always know that Azeroth was larger than that, in the same abstract way one knew that skies were blue and leaves fell in autumn. It wasnât something that she questioned or gave much thought to, it just âwasâ. She remembered reading letters home from Matthew, of days upon weeks at sea, bound for the northern reaches of the world. How he had described mountains so tall their stormy peaks could not be seen, great forests with trees ten times taller than any in Elwynn, more than five men wide arms stretched, large enough to build a single ship.
Or at least, one of the smaller trading ships. Nothing like the one she found herself upon now. A Galleon of the Kulâtiran Fleet, four floors below deck, another at the forecastle, and a further four at the aft below the bridge. Sheâd spent a good half hour getting herself accustomed, finding the Galley and the bunks, and then trying to find her way back to them. Sheâd browsed the stores, found a sack of oats and set them soaking overnight to be warmed in the morning. Porridge and Honey might not be the most glamorous of breakfasts, but as her mother said, it âstuck to the ribsâ, leaving you full until dinner.
Grace rolled onto her back. She felt, âwrung outâ was possibly the best way of putting it, not to mention naive and inexperienced. Back in Boralus the others had reacted with surprise that sheâd never encountered any of the horde. Sheâd heard tales of course. A lot of the millworkers had been soldiers and militia, seeing the first and second wars. Others had come south from Lordaeron after the third, and when nights drew in, old soldiers found a hearthfire and talked.
Her Father had been a soldier, a Carpenter Sergeant charged with keeping convoys moving. He never spoke of it.
She hadnât even known until the fight.
Sheâd been home from the Abbey, visiting for Matthews nameday. She could still see him, the way he sauntered in, beaming. golden hair tied into a low tail at the nape of his neck, a few wisps broken free in that charmingly disheveled way he carefully cultivated them. Fresh armor polished to perfection. He gleamed. He was so proud.
With the thunderous air of a stormcloud before it broke, her father banished her to her room. Even with the door closed, Grace still heard every word. Her Father swearing and cursing that Matthew was pointlessly throwing his life away when he had a good trade that could see him comfortable.
Mother had tried to intervene. And then Matthew called him a coward.
Father threw him out.
That was the very last she saw of him. Mother had come up later and explained what had happened to Father in the war, that heâd lost many good friends, and sworn he wouldnât go back.
Grace had crept out the next morning, her father still lost to the stupor he had drunk himself into, running all the way to the barracks, but heâd already been deployed.
Less than two years later another Soldier had come to the door, bearing a flag and a letter thanking them for their sacrifice. They were never told the details of what happened, just âKilled in Actionâ. It was years later she had stumbled across his name, kept in the records of the abbey.
And now? Now she had enlisted with the Seventh Legion, an aspirant, following in Matthewâs, in her Fatherâs footsteps. She hadnât told him. Left a letter with mother to pass along once they had deployed. It was easier that way, not having to say goodbye.
Sleep continued to evade her. Silently Grace rose from her bunk, picking up her boots and cloak, she walked barefoot out towards the galley so her footfalls would not wake those from their rest. Light knew they needed it. Pouring herself a flagon of tea, she made her way topside, perching on the steps that led to the aft promenade that ran level with the quarterdeck, here at least she wasnât in the way.
The sky was just beginning to turn from diamond-studded black to hues of indigo and midnight blue, a sliver of silver lining the edge of the horizon speaking of the promised dawn. Her gaze drifted over the deck, even with the work of the shipwrights, the scars of the night before were clear to see.
âBRACE!â
The Lieutenantâs voice? She wasnât sure, orders shouted were lost in the roar of cannon fire, the screams of men and women on the gundeck as walls of safety tore inwards, splintering into jagged projectiles that turned the air around them deadly.
The great golden barrier reverberated with the impact, a shockwave that tore through her connection, threatening to break it as she felt the blast through to her very bones.
Grace took another sip of her tea and set it down beside her. The skies were brightening quicker now, the lamps upon railing and rigging extinguished, leaving the deck bathed in the morning half light. The sails filled thanks to the blessings of the tidesages, the great galleon gunship cut through the waves with ease.
Carefully Grace removed her gloves and surveyed the damage.
âDonât let this Barrier Fall!â
âDo not falter! The Light is with us!â
Sweat rolled down her neck, rounds of cannonfire, the crack of rifles on both sides of the divide. The Forsaken Frigate drew closer with every passing moment.
She had known enlistment would ask much of her, she remembered well the lessons in the abbey, acolytes worked to exhaustion, to collapse. âFind your limits, learn to work within them.â but this? She could never have prepared for this.
Grace closed her eyes, looking within, seeking that innate connection, to ask more than she knew she could bear.
âIncoming!â
Bile rose in her throat, the presence of demonic energies manifesting nearby made her skin crawl the way itâs taint had flooded the cities makeshift hospitals back during the first waves of the burning legions assaults. She opened her eyes and saw imps rain from the sky, and in their fel-green glow, through the haze of golden light, she saw the Forsaken.
Grace slowly traced her fingertips over her forearms, trailing along lines that crisscrossed the surface of her skin. Angry risen welts that betrayed the burns beneath. They would heal, with time and rest, but as she twisted and turned to survey the damage, she suspected rest would be in short supply.
âTheyâre boarding!â
âWe Noticed!â
Shouts from below deck to above became muffled. The sharp ringing in her ears conspired with the blinding light to stifle her senses. Her breathing was ragged, even bolstered by the druidic magic she was far beyond her capabilities. Pushing harder she scoured the remaining dregs of her strength from within.
She knew instantly. The Lights retribution was the immediate and unforgiving. Her head thrown back she gasped for air, the lights glow burned within, tearing along the lines of arteries, veins, capillaries, searing the skin of her arms and hands, blinding her as it shone from her eyes.
The Light would answer her call, but there was always a price. Her reserves all but empty, it would take its payment none the less.
Around her the murmuring rose of the crew beginning their day, shifts changing from night crew to day. Pulling her gloves on she retrieved her empty flagon. Slowly she descended to the galley to finish preparing breakfast. It wouldnât do to leave them hungry.
I have my Amani as a character for conflict, and donât mind him die so donât worry!
![:smiley:](https://d1bg94bbsh66ji.cloudfront.net/en/wow/images/emoji/twitter/smiley.png?v=6" ":smiley:")