To fully appreciate the story, you probably need to know a little about Warcraft. If you've played through the Gilnenan starting area on the World of Warcraft Cataclysm Beta, you may even appreciate it more. Although I barely scratch the surface of whats covered in there. Here is the 'teaser' for it...
After the Worgens striked Gilneas, the country struggled to rebuild themselves. Following the royal chemist, Krennan Aranas, Curse Unleashed follows his efforts to aid the infected worgen and protect his fellow countrymen. With the Forsaken on their shores, the Gilneans must hurry their efforts to reclaim their capital city before they become slaves and experiments for Sylvanas and her undead.
For those of you reading this that don't have any experience with the Warcraft universe...well, enjoy the small dwelve into some fantasy literature.The main "point" of this was to prove to myself that I could write an extended piece (this is one of my longest works, nearing 7,500 words and 10 pages). I'm not necessarily happy with the entire product, but I think my dialogue is getting better.
Please, feel free to leave comments, criticism, etc. What you liked from it, what you found didn't work, etc. I would love feedback.
Without further ado...
Cursed Unleashed
By: RJL
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A lone howl in the night jerked Krennan Aranas awake from his slumber. The Royal Chemist of Gilneas looked down at the desk he was sitting at and shook his head, struggling to readjust from just waking up. The papers containing his formulas were scattered about in front of him. The one directly in front of him had a bit of drool on it from where his head had rested.
Another howl sounded out from the stockades on the outskirts of Duskhaven. Krennan craned his stiff neck in the direction of his room’s window. He didn’t have time to sleep. Although the allure was strong for his tired body, there was work to be done. Each hour he spent sleeping was another hour that slipped away from the infected Gilnean’s hourglass.
Exhausted eyes fell upon his notes once more. After a few moments of going over the complicated formula, the chemist mumbled to himself: “Hm, yes. If I use mandrake essence…”
The thought was finished in his head just as his hand reached out for his quill pen. Dipping it in ink, he quickly scribbled a few changes to his formula. After a dozen readings of it, Krennan was satisfied. He was ready to test the new batch. After depositing the quill back in its placeholder, he then picked up the formula paper and rose from his desk. The chemist involuntarily let out an aged groan in the process followed by a deep sigh. No longer was he a fearless young man nor was he quite a wise elder yet, Krennan was firmly in the forgotten middle aged territory.
Once on his feet, the chemist momentarily looked over his gray robes that had been stained with various chemicals. A bath would be one of his first priorities once this was all taken care of.
Krennan approached the largest object in his room: the worktable. The entire table was filled with his chemical work supplies. Glass vials, beakers, tongs, syringes, mixers, funnels, and various other tools he needed for his work. Many of them were filled with liquids that were familiar to Krennan but foreign to the everyday man.
The fruits of Krennan’s labor were located at the far end of the table. Next to several empty vials, there was a large beaker that contained the ‘cure’ to the worgen’s curse. Not a true cure, no. Not by any means. Temporary? Yes. That was the best he had done up until now. The potion was effective in treating and protecting the infected early on, but advanced stages were harder to treat.
Taking a seat at his worktable, Krennan placed the formula down before him. He reached for a vial, but paused midway after catching his reflection in it. The chemist gave a small frown, obviously not happy with what he saw. Dark rings under his eyes. Wrinkles were forming on his facial features as age caught up to him. His hair was now gray and he had begun to bald on the top. What hair he did have was long and spindly, falling to about shoulder length like cobwebs.
“Get it together, Aranas.”
It was not Krennan’s voice, but King Genn Greymane. The chemist was startled at the sudden appearance of the royal figure standing in his doorway. The king was a bearish man, but had grown a quiet grace to his movements ever since the capital fell. Some sort of quality or change that made him harder to notice until he wanted to be noticed.
Hadn’t they all changed though? He recalled tip toeing and quietly running through the alleyways in a desperate attempt to escape the pursuing wolf-men. Adrenaline forcing his body to do things it should no longer be able to do in an attempt to avoid gnashing fangs and bloodstained claws. Seeking refuge up in a tree and climbing it faster than he had when he was a lad.
“Forgive me, my lord.” Krennan moved to stand up from his seat in order to bow, but a quick gesture of Greymane’s hand stopped him. Instead, he simply bowed his head in respect. The king crossed his arms and moved to stand across from the royal chemist. Even in his seventies, the king was still a brawny warrior. Thick features, a heavy beard, and clad in armor that represented the two colors most prominent in Gilneas: black and gray. Krennan looked and felt older than Genn. Perhaps he should have been a knight instead of a chemist.
“How is your work coming?” Greymane’s powerful voice asked. His eyes squinted with a bit of scrutiny at the stain on Krennan’s paper.
“I think I’ve got it.”
“A permanent cure?”
Krennan paused, and then shook his head.
“What then?” Greymane growled impatiently, his eyes rising from the paper to his chemist.
“A temporary solution for the Gilneans transformed by the worgen curse. One more suitable than Godfrey’s solution.”
“I would hope so. Godfrey wants to kill all of them. Those heroes. Don’t forget about the one that saved you.”
The chemist’s hands slammed into the table, the glass vials rattling. Krennan’s voice snapped: “Don’t you think I know that? Don’t you think I want to cure this? I’m trying. I’m doing everything I can to help them!”
Greymane tightened his hand into a fist, digging elongated nails into his palm. He had to maintain control. Couldn’t let Krennan’s outburst get to him. Not now. Not with his people in danger. Not with his people in danger from him. The king quenched the fire in his chest with a deep inhale.
“Then we’ll test it tomorrow, Krennan. Make sure it is ready by then,” the king answered, masking his rage. He did not wait for an answer from the royal chemist. With a commanding stride to his walk, Greymane moved straight out of the room and slammed the door shut behind him. The room rattled for a moment, reminding Krennan of the earthquakes that had been occurring lately.
Krennan’s own anger subsided once Genn was out of the room. The chemist wasted no time and went to work. The rest of the night was a blur for him. Nothing stole his attention away from his labor, not even the howling from outside or the occasional shaking of the ground.
Morning slipped past him without notice. The sun didn’t shine on the Gilneans. At best, they received their comfort from rain and fog, suitable for the isolated nation.
Had he done it? Seated at his work table, he leaned forward to examine the alchemical concoction he had created. Today would be the first test of it. He mumbled a small prayer to the Light and hoped that it would work. If not, then all could be lost for the brave saviors of Gilneas, the ones infected during the worgen attack.
It only took a few minutes to bottle the sample and ensure that it was safely packed into his bag. The chemist was already to his feet and ready to move out to meet the King. Before he made it out, the door received several short knocks, and then was abruptly opened. As soon as the chemist saw who it was, his heart skipped a beat.
Gwen Armstead. Mayor of Duskhaven. Barging into his room.
Her voice had a playful quality to it: “Ain’t you a chipper looking one?”
The brown haired woman entered the room with a tray, carrying a bowl of porridge and a pot of tea. She wore her favorite hat—the one with red flowers on it. Gwen didn’t go anywhere without that hat. It saw her through the worgen attack on the capital. That hat was her lucky charm. And damn good looking too.
The hat. Not her. Well, Krennan thought she too was damn good looking, but his social and societal graces along with his natural lack of charms forced him to never speak of it. Besides, what would a woman like that want with a man like him?
The chemist was still speechless and awkward, both in his thoughts and in his presence. Gwen set the breakfast tray down on a clear spot of the worktable. After brushing the skirts of her Gilnean dress, a style that had flair to it despite its drabness, she sat herself down on one of his work stools. The young mayor stared back at Krennan before quietly giggling into one hand. “Sit down and eat. You’ve been skipping meals.”
Snapping out of his stupor, Krennan shook his head quickly. “My apologies, Mayor Armstead. I really can’t afford to eat now, the King awaits my work.”
When Krennan rounded the corner of the table and grew closer to the door, Gwen stood and interposed herself in front of him. Placing one hand on his robed chest, she gently pushed him down onto a stool.
“Now, now. If you go out and about now, you’ll pass out and die from hunger and exhaustion you will. We can at least take care of one of those,” the Mayor had one of those charming Gilnean accents when she spoke, one any foreigner would be jealous of.
She maneuvered herself around to grab the tray once more and place the meal before Krennan. He had been so caught off guard by the act, that he didn’t protest any. While Gwen poured two cups of tea, Krennan took the bowl of porridge and slowly ate it with a wooden spoon.
After Gwen had a sip of tea and Krennan a few mouthfuls of porridge, the mayor spoke up to break the silence: “You did it then?”
Disappointment crept up in the throat of the chemist: “No. Temporary solution for the ones infected while defending Gilneas. A potent dosage should give the worgens control until I can find something more permanent or a way to reverse it.”
Guilt hung over the head of Krennan, so much so that Gwen could easily see it in the chemist’s demeanor. The mayor gave a weak smile: “Krennan, you mustn’t blame yourself for all that. You’re doing your best here. Without you, many other Gilneans would have been lost.”
Krennan paused between bites, reaching for his cup of tea. He shot his head back and downed the drink in one motion, letting out a noise of satisfaction afterwards. Food and drink always provided joy to all people, despite the direness of any situation. Meals were truly a common thread that tied everyone together. The body could find satisfaction regardless of the mind’s state.
While food comforted his body, Gwen’s words did little to ease his mind and guilt. The chemist could muster no response to her and continued to eat. After his breakfast was finished, Krennan stood and bowed his head in thanks. The mayor smiled softy and gestured to the door: “Get gabbin or get goin.”
That caused the first smile in awhile to form on Krennan’s face. If only he was a bit younger, a bit bolder, and a bit more charming. Perhaps she could be his.
The royal chemist left Gwen and her house. It hadn’t been Aranas’ first choice of residence, but both the mayor and the king insisted. The late morning air was still chilly from the famed Gilnean mist and fog. Each resident or refugee he passed on the streets earned a small nod of acknowledgement from Krennan. Some had the energy and hope to nod back, others woefully and fearfully ignored him.
The walk helped to clear his mind, but did nothing to relieve his fatigue. Even the short walk to the stockades was a tiring process for him. The ground around the stockades was muddy from recent rain. Had he missed a brief opportunity to shower in the rainwater? A shame as it would have crossed the luxurious idea of a bath off his to do list.
The stockades were tucked away in a safe portion of the city, just in case any of the Worgen escaped. While Krennan hated seeing fellow Gilneans restrained here, it had been the safest option for the townspeople and the worgen. Most of the men that went with Crowley to defend the city and buy the evacuees more time had gone missing after the worgen attacked Light’s Dawn Cathedral. Lord Darius Crowley, the patriot whose attempt at rebellion ended up saving the city in the end, was presumed dead.
Luckily, not all of the heroes had gone missing. Even the one that had saved Krennan had been found and recovered, brought here to Duskhaven in hopes that they could be cured or helped. King Greymane had given the order himself, ensuring that these heroes would get all the help they could.
When Krennan arrived to the center of the muddy circle of the stockades, he approached the King and Lord Godfrey who had been waiting for him. Lord Godfrey was a tall and powerfully built man, although King Greymane made Godfrey look like a child when they stood next to each other, both in size and presence.
One worgen in particular seemed alert and focused on the three humans gathered then. The one that had saved Krennan. The worgen were truly a sight to behold. They were taller than a man with wide shoulders and muscular arms. Hands that ended in claws sharp enough to disembowel anything. Powerful legs that made them impossible to outrun normally. Beasts built to kill.
Greymane and Godfrey hadn’t been talking when Krennan approached. Even after the chemist joined them, nothing was said. Fearlessly, Krennan Aranas approached the worgen hero and kneeled in front of him. Taking his bag off, the chemist quickly went through his alchemy supplies and removed a small vial.
Lord Godfrey brushed a hand on his black coat jacket, placing his blunderbuss stock against the ground and using the weapon as a cane. If it was up to the nobleman, he’d put a silver bullet through the head of all these monsters. There was no hope for any of these worgen. The nobleman thought Krennan was a fool for trying to help them.
But the fool would find some success. Krennan rose to his feet and placed a hand on the back of the worgen hero’s head to prevent him from snapping. In his current state, the worgen wasn’t that cooperative. With a little effort though, the concoction was administered to the beast.
The royal chemist’s eyes watered a little, the worgen hero showing little changes. However, after several moments, a look of surprise and recognition crossed the features of the lupine champion.
Krennan gave a grim smile, then spoke, “I’m not giving up on you. I don’t have a cure for the Curse…yet. But there are treatments. You’ll have control again.”
A loud and obnoxious chortle came from Godfrey who hefted his gun to his shoulder. The guffaw grated on Krennan’s nerves. Godfrey’s voice was obnoxious and smug, “Give it up, Krennan. It’s time to put this one down. It’s protocol.”
An infuriated look crossed the features of King Genn Greymane. He put a powerful hand on Godfrey, pushing him back a little when the gun toting nobleman tried to move towards the worgen. The king moved to stare down Godfrey.
“Tell me, Godfrey. Those that stayed in Gilneas City so that we could live. Were they following protocol?” The King’s words were a challenge to Godfrey who backed down in response and lowered his hat covered head.
Greymane smirked, having won the confrontation. “I didn’t think so. Now hand me that potion, Krennan…and double the dosage.”
Krennan followed his King’s orders, rummaging through his bag to create a double dosage of the potion. Godfrey had slinked away, defeated and no doubt ready to kick around some mastiffs to make himself feel better. Krennan looked disgusted at the thought, but shook it from his head as he handed the dosage over to Genn. The king nodded and gestured for the chemist to leave. Krennan opened his mouth to protest, but remembered his place. With a bow, the royal chemist left King Genn Greymane to administer the dosage to the worgen hero.
Krennan stole occasional looks back to the stockades while he headed down the streets of Duskhaven. Before he was out of sight, he saw the King release the worgen from its holding. When Krennan turned a street corner, he felt a small tremor start up once more. Gilneas had been suffering from these earthquakes ever since the disaster with the worgen started. Whether or not the earthquakes were just a problem for Gilneas or for all of Azeroth was still unknown to Krennan.
The tremor started off slow. Those on the streets, including Krennan, grabbed onto the nearest object that they could for support. For the chemist, this was a nearby lamppost. The earthquake quickly grew in volume, shaking every building in the town. Roof shingles slid off the nearby buildings, crashing and breaking into the street next to Krennan. This had been the worse one yet, the chemist thought. Sheer panic started to set in when the shaking refused to end.
With both of his arms around the light pole, Krennan yelped and looked down quickly when he felt his feet and body start to rise. The tremors had become so intense, that the streets rose and moved with the direction of the quake. Stone and dirt collapsed roughly back onto the ground, the street lamp Krennan held onto tipping over and crashing into the street. By a sheer stroke of luck, the royal chemist twisted his body to avoid being pinned underneath it.
While the earth and streets settled down, damaged remained on the path that ranged from overturned boxes and carts to even an older building caving in on itself. These tremors weren’t natural. Krennan knew that much. They couldn’t have come at a worse time either, with the worgen trouble still on the rise. Pushing himself up into a sitting position, he glanced down both sides of the street. Other people were recovering from the disaster and the chemist hoped that no one was injured.
With the groan he had grown accustomed to lately, Krennan rose to his feet and brushed himself off carefully. He looked down at the fallen lamp post in front of him, briefly muttering a prayer to the Light. It seemed like he had a guardian angel watching over him lately. No longer was his pace a slow walk, but a good sprint that invigorated him. That nap he had planned would have to wait.
Gwen Armstead met Krennan at the door to her house, gesturing him in. Once he was through the door, the pair moved a little further into the entryway.
The mayor sighed, “Is the King on his way back?”
The chemist nodded in response while Gwen gave him an inquisitive look, wondering what had occurred at the stocks. She suddenly had her answer when she found the hulking worgen hero standing in her doorway, sniffing at the air. A momentary look of fear crossed Gwen’s eyes, but was soothed with an insisting hand gesture from Krennan. He had done it. He had really done it! A monster did not stand before them, but a man. A man sniffing and occasionally scratching himself, but a man nonetheless! Even in this worgen form.
“It worked! By the Light, it worked!” Krennan’s voice was a surge of excitement, as if he was opening a gift from Greatfather Winter. The worgen hero’s feral eyes fell upon Krennan and formed a grin large enough to eat a grandmother.
The excitement died down in the chemist as he continued his speech, sharing what the Worgen wanted to know: “The effects of the curse cannot ever be fully cured as far as we know.”
It was with great pain that Krennan admitted it to himself and shared it. He had thought a cure was possible, but more and more that seemed unlikely. If there was, he knew now that it was beyond his skill.
“With treatment, however, your mind will remain yours,” Krennan paused, then continued: “And not that of a wild animal. We are fortunate that the treatment worked on you. Normally, I can only treat recent infections.”
The worgen hero snarled for a moment in anger, clenching a clawed fist. Krennan felt sympathy for his fellow Gilnean, knowing that the news was not easy to hear and that he himself was not exactly a good person to be giving bad news out.
Krennan carefully conveyed the next step to the worgen hero: “We’ll need to continue your medication if we’re to have you reverse the curse. I will need mandrake essence to brew another batch of my serum for you. You will find a crate stashed beneath a shed southwest of town.”
It was an easy enough task. Surely there would be no complications? The worgen moved to tip a hat that wasn’t there to Krennan, then looked a bit frustrated at the realization that he was indeed missing a hat. Krennan moved up the stairs to his lab to begin the preparations of the next serum for the worgen.
Krennan sat at his worktable, arranging various beakers and vials into their holders. Not much timed passed before another earthquake hit Duskhaven and the surrounding area. The noise from the shifting and changing landscape near the shore was noticeable by all the town’s denizens. All the prep work that the chemist performed was ruined, falling off the side of the worktable and shattering upon the floor.
Krennan hung onto his chair, feeling nauseated from all the shaking. When the quake ended, he stood up and used the wall to steady himself. Leaving his work room, he traveled down the stairs to see a glimpse of the worgen hero sprinting from the house. When had the worgen returned? Had he been so quiet that Krennan had not noticed his return or had he just been so preoccupied with his work?
Krennan looked to Gwen, who had been watching the worgen leave. Aranas’ voice had an alarming quality to it: “Where is he going? He needs more of the serum.”
Gwen wasn’t nearly as startled with Krennan’s appearance as she had been with the worgen’s arrival. Turning to face the chemist, Gwen rubbed her hand against her own cheek. She shook her head, muttering: “There weren’t any mandrake essences left.”
“What? Why?”
“A Forsaken assassin destroyed it and killed the watchmen guarding it.” Gwen’s hand lowered to her side once more, a look of disbelief on her face.
The Forsaken. Remnants of the undead scourge that had acquired freedom from the Lich King’s control. Under the banner of Sylvanas Windrunner, a high elf ranger turned by the Lich King, these intelligent undead had rallied under the Horde’s banner. Krennan knew of the conflicts between the Horde and the Alliance. The Gilneans had no love for the Horde either despite not joining the Alliance.
The chemist didn’t think anyone, least of all the Forsaken, would attack them. But was this not the perfect time for it? The Gilneans were still dealing the worgen curse and these cataclysmic changes to Azeroth must have created the opening the Forsaken needed to reach the once impenetrable nation of Gilneas.
Even from within Gwen’s house, Krennan could hear the distant sound of battle reaching the nearby shores. The commanding shouts of Prince Liam Greymane rose out over all combat noises, inspiring the watchguards to defend the town of Duskhaven from their invaders. The chilling howl of the worgen hero accompanied the prince’s shouts.
Krennan couldn’t help but shiver himself as he whispered: “By the Light…what should we do?”
Gwen didn’t skip a beat, even with the looming threat of the undead at their shores. “Prince Liam has been reckless since Gilneas fell, but with our worgen ally, they can hold the line for us until we evacuate the citizens to safety.”
A thought occurred to the chemist then: “We should move them to Greymane Manor. It’s up the way. The higher ground would be safer. Not just from the Forsaken, but from the earthquakes.”
The mayor gave a nod to Krennan: “I’ll handle rallying the citizens here. Head to Melinda Hammond’s farm and get the villagers there to here safely.”
The two parted ways without another word, a silent well wishing of good luck occurring between the two. Krennan moved from the house and paused outside, patting his robe down for a vial of green liquid. A swiftness potion, created from briarthorn and swiftthistle. He uncorked the top with his thumb and downed the liquid in one drink. With that needed boost of energy and speed, Krennan ran through the town faster than any normal man could. It didn’t take long until he reached the outskirts of Duskhaven, traveling down the road towards the farm. In the distance, he could see the opened fields between the shoreline and Duskhaven.
The undead clashed blades against the living. Mastiffs barked and charged the enemies of the Gilneans, seeking Forsaken bones. The stitched and bloated abominations that fought against the humans were being defeated through the use of explosive barrels. Even in the distance, Krennan swore he saw the catapults of the Forsaken turned against their owners thanks to the efforts of the worgen hero and the Gilneans.
The spurt of speed provided to Krennan by the potion ended when the chemist arrived at the farm. He took a brief look around and heard sounds coming from the cellar. Opening the double doors built into the ground, the chemist headed down into the cellar of Melinda Hammond’s farm. There, he found a group of Gilneas citizens crowded together, along with Lord Godfrey and his blunderbuss.
The nobleman grunted at Krennan, but provided no other greeting than that. The chemist looked over and was happy to see a good deal of the citizens who lived nearby the farm, including Melinda Hammond herself and her three children Cynthia, Ashley, and James.
“Can you believe there are good worgens?” James, the young boy whispered to his siblings. Lord Godfrey’s upper lip curled in disgust, but Krennan intervened before the nobleman said anything.
Clapping his hands together, the chemist drew the entire attention of the room: “Everyone, we need to head to Duskhaven and begin the evacuation to Greymane Manor.”
Godfrey wasn’t about to argue with Krennan. The nobleman didn’t want to be in danger if he could help it. Krennan quickly lead the crowd of people out of the cellar and towards Duskhaven. The trek back took longer since the chemist couldn’t provide swiftness potions for everyone.
The battle against the two ships offshore seemed to be grinding to a halt. Krennan spared a longing look in the direction of the battlefield, noticing the worgen hero leading a group of mastiffs against one of Sylvanas’ well trained Dark Rangers. The confrontation didn’t last long with the mastiffs swarming the undead high elf.
Before Krennan’s very eyes, the ground near the shore began to collapse with a powerful earth shattering quake. The villagers traveling to Duskhaven screamed and cried as the earth shook, knocking most of them to the ground. Krennan managed to plant his feet firmly into the ground, receiving the perfect view of the coastline just vanishing and plummeting into the ocean. With it were the screams of half of the Gilnean watch disappearing with the land itself.
When the shaking stopped, the worgen hero wasted no time, and charged straight into the water, plunging in the cold sea to rescue those he could from drowning. Inspired by the worgen’s selfless act, Krennan quickly hurried the rest of the Gilneans on. It wasn’t much longer until they arrived in Duskhaven. The chemist quickly spotted Gwen ushering civilians into wagons and carriages drawn by horses.
Despite the fear and panic many of the citizens were feeling, the Gilneans seemed oddly prepared for the evacuation since they had already suffered a similar experience when the worgen curse broke out. Krennan’s group joined with the other citizens to find transportation out of Duskhaven. Lord Godfrey found his own private carriage while Krennan met with Gwen. The chemist couldn’t help but notice the tired look in her eyes. A small grin formed on his face as he quipped to her: “Ain’t you a chipper looking one?”
Gwen couldn’t help but laugh, shaking her head. “Yeah, yeah. Very funny, Krennan. Is this everyone?”
“I believe so. What’s our next step?”
Gwen gestured to the lead wagon at the head of the road. “Take it. Lead our people to Greymane Manor. I’ll finish up here.”
Krennan looked conflicted, a bit fearful that Gwen’s delay could cost her. The mayor gave a confident smirk, patting the chemist on his cheek. Her voice was playful, “Get goin. Rest of us will be along shortly. I need to make sure our friend finds Loma Crowley, the Hayward Brothers, and Grandma Wahl.”
He knew that the Hayward brothers were resourceful, they would be fine. Grandma Wahl had grown senile to say the least in her old age, though some claimed that it was simply an act she put on. Nonetheless, she was in no position to evacuate on her own and she lived on the outskirts of Duskhaven.
Loma Crowley was still distraught over the disappearance and presumed death of her father. She had refused to meet with anyone but Krennan during the time. The chemist attempted to console her and he kept what the two shared between themselves, but he worried greatly for her. Hopefully she could be convinced to evacuate with the others.
Before he could protest any further, Gwen was already shouting out some orders to what little of the watch remained in the city. Krennan sighed to himself then maneuvered towards the head of the pack. With help from the lead coach driver, he was situated on the lead carriage at the head of the Duskhaven evacuation.
The wheels of the carriage spun rapidly as the driver ushers the horses onward. The caravan moved at a steady pace, fearful that the land could swallow them whole at anytime. The trip to Greymane Manor didn’t take long, but the horses had to exert a lot of effort to head up the steep road. The queen herself had received word of the refugees’ arrival and awaited outside her house, the doors opened for her subjects.
Queen Mia Greymane wore a royal white dress. Her hair had begun to go from gray to white. Yet she possessed the same energy and determination as the aging king did. Determined to do her part in this, she ushered Krennan down from his coach.
“It is good to see you again, Royal Chemist Krennan Aranas. I wish it was only on better terms.” The queen offered a smile while Krennan replied with a groan from dismounting from the vehicle.
Krennan recovered by bowing his head and smiling: “It is good to see you too my queen.”
“Come. The manor has been prepared for the refugees.”
The queen ushered Krennan in while the coaches and wagons made regular trips up to the front of the manor and Gilneans poured out from then. Luckily, the manor was large enough to accommodate the masses. Krennan and Mia didn’t have a chance to speak any further with each other, busied by assisting Gilneans with being comfortable or those that had injured themselves in the evacuation.
It was an hour later before Gwen had fulfilled her word. She had managed to evacuate the rest of Duskhaven, including those the worgen hero had been sent out to assist. The worgen had entered last, many of the refugees stopping to stare at him. There was some agitation on the wolf man’s face, but he played it off by tipping a hat that wasn’t there. At the realization that he still didn’t have a hat, the agitation resumed.
Krennan didn’t have time to speak to the worgen hero, but the queen and mayor met with him briefly before directing him upstairs to meet with the king. The chemist continued his work with the people, providing potions to the wounded and tending to other wounds with more mundane means like bandages and salves. While assisting Grandma Wahl by applying the same ointment he was going to apply to her, but one that she claimed was different and better for her, the entire manor shook from another one of the earthquakes.
This was the worse one yet and if it wasn’t for the study foundation of the Greymane Manor, the whole building would’ve collapsed on the majority of the Gilneans left. Fearful cries and hushed whimpers filled the large entrance room where the refugees took sanctuary. The shaking soon stopped once more, but the cries of the Gilneans were not halted until their king appeared at the stop of their stairs.
Finally having left the observatory he had held himself up in since the Forsaken attacked, the powerful Genn Greymane’s presence commanded the attention of his people. Behind him, the worgen hero stood proudly.
“My people,” the king started, looking over the crowd. “Duskhaven has been swallowed whole by the sea. Forsaken reinforcements have arrived by ship and seek to push inland. We must retreat further inland and gather our fellow countrymen to defend ourselves from them! We will reclaim our capital. These abominations will fall to our steel, our magic, and to the Light. Long live Gilneas!”
The king threw his arm up in celebration, shouting the words with pride. The people rallied under his banner, an entire room of people shouting and cheering for Gilneas. Preparing themselves and steeling their nerves against an enemy that sought to enslave them and use them for experimentations. The Forsaken were an enemy that would not hesitate to unleash vile plagues upon the Gilneans or strip the flesh from the living and eat them.
Krennan looked on with approval, even joining in the shouts of national pride. The shouting had an accompanied howl join them from the worgen hero and for the moment, the Gilneans didn’t fear the man they had learned to count on. He was no different from any of them. They were all Gilneans and they were all in this mess together.
Genn spoke up after the shouts had begun to quiet down: “Lord Godfrey, Prince Liam, Queen Mia, Mayor Armstread, Lady Loma Crowley, Royal Chemist Aranas, and…” He paused, moving to grip the shoulder of the worgen and pull him next to him. “This man will lead the evacuation process to Stormglen. Follow their orders and we shall rejoin our countrymen and force the invaders from our lands!”
Another series of cheers erupted amongst the Gilneans! The victory shouts lingered, only fading out once everyone in the room prepared to move out. The evacuation process took less than a hour, most of them still packed with the belongings they had brought with them. After discussing the plans, Gwen Armstead and Loma Crowley were placed in the lead of the evacuation. The king and queen would handle the rear while Krennan, Lord Godfrey, Prince Liam, and the worgen took care of the bulk of it all.
Krennan assisted with helping passengers into various wagons, but before long he felt the heavy hand of Prince Liam guiding him into his own coach in front of Lord Godfrey’s ride. The ride throughout the Gilnean countryside led through the trees, heading deeper and deeper into the forests near Blackwald. Krennan hoped that Stormglen had managed to survive despite the worgen attacks, but if the capital fell then that meant the nearby communities stood little chance. Krennan spent most of the ride staring out the side window at the coastline, where Duskhaven had been only hour or so ago.
The chemist drifted off to sleep, but it was a restless one that was soon interrupted by a loud crash behind his still moving coach. Krennan shook his head, opening his window and sticking his head out to see behind him. Godfrey’s coach was still moving, but the one behind him that belonged to the Prince had been flipped and attacked. That’s when he noticed the ettins—tall and powerful ogre creatures.
Krennan was about to shout something when he noticed a blur of fur leaping off a wagon that went around the wreckage of the prince’s coach. The worgen hero howled, quickly rising to the defense of Prince Liam and the men that had been with him. The royal chemist had only a fading glimpse of the fight against the ettins and their leader Koroth, his driver spurring the horses on with recklessness in fear that the danger might catch them.
With the worgen backing the prince up, Krennan felt safe. That security washed away when his carriage arrived on the outskirts of Stormglen, spotting the guards that had accompanied Gwen and Loma forming a barrier in the middle of the town. Then the chemist saw what the guards were defending against—spiders the size of horses.
The two sides were at a stalemate and each seemed to equally take up part of the town. Krennan left his coach, noticing that the refugee masses were being moved into nearby buildings for safety. Loma Crowley was on the frontlines with the guard, using her rifle and mastiffs to help defend against the spiders. Gwen Armstead assisted the Gilneans with finding safe spots, shouting out orders.
The chemist approached her, nearly falling over when he did. His legs almost buckled under him, fatigue having finally set in on him. The mayor gripped Krennan by his shoulders, holding him up. “Been pushin yourself too much, Aranas,” Gwen quietly teased, the concern for her friend evident on her face. Krennan shook his head to disagree, but Gwen helped shoulder the weight of the chemist by throwing one of his arms around her neck. A nearby guard saw the scene, moving to assist Gwen with moving Krennan into the inn.
The chemist shook his head, muttering: “No, I’ll be fine. I just got out of the coach too fast.”
Gwen gave a mixture of a snort and a laugh, earning an odd look from the guard. The conversation didn’t go any further, Krennan ending up on the second floor of the inn and placed into one of the waiting beds. Krennan’s eyes closed and he drifted off shortly after laying his head on the pillow. The last thing he felt before falling asleep was a small peck to his forehead from the mayor.
Krennan slept for an indeterminate amount of time, waking up quite rested. He felt sheepish for a moment, embarrassed that fatigue had caught up to him. His eyes looked around the room, noticing other survivors sleeping in beds. He sat up with a groan and then shifted off the bed. Heading downstairs into the room, he found Loma Crowley pouring over some sort of journal, patching it back together.
Gwen Armstead was also in the room, smiling when she saw Krennan and gestured him over. She opened her mouth to say something, but the chemist raised her hand and cut her off. He greeted her with amusement, “Yes, aren’t I a chipper looking one?”
Gwen laughed quietly to herself, smiling and adjusting her hat. “You are. So chipper in fact, you should go show yourself off to the king. He’s been looking for you. Godfrey went up to Tempest’s Reach and sent word down the mountain that he found survivors. The king wants you to go with him and meet them.”
“Thanks, Mayor Armstead.”
“Come off it, call me Gwen already.”
A bit of hesitation was given before Krennan was willing to throw away the traditions ingrained in him: “Alright. Thanks Gwen.”
“Don’t mention it.”
The chemist parted ways, pausing only to give a smile and wave to the busy Loma Crowley. King Greymane waited on the road leading out of Stormglen on top of a gray steed Genn offered a hand to help Krennan mount up with him, the process taking a bit more effort than the chemist would’ve liked.
“Doing better, Aranas?” The king seemed concern for the chemist rather than giving him one of his usual chidings.
“Yes my lord. I’m prepared to help the survivors up on Tempest’s Reach.”
“Good man,” Genn patted Krennan’s arm and then took off, leading the horse up the mountainous road. The traveling took a bit of time, but it allowed a chance for the chemist to fully awaken and be on the top of his game. However, when they arrived at the bridge leading to the top, Genn stopped the horse.
“Wait here, Krennan. Something isn’t right about this.”
The chemist knew protest would be useless, very rarely did it seem that Krennan actually won any arguments like that. He dismounted and moved to hide in some brush while the king moved across the bridge on his horse. On the other side, Greymane’s suspicions proved true when Godfrey was waiting with men and held the king up at gunpoint, forcing him off his horse and taking him prisoner.
“The motherless mongrel,” Krennan growled under his breath, patting his robes down for something. Without a horse, it would take awhile to get back and reach Stormglen for help. If he left, there was no telling what they would do to Greymane. But if he stayed behind, how could he help his king? There were little options, but Krennan’s chemistry skills were put to use when he pulled an invisibility potion from his robes, created from mixing sungrass and ghost mushrooms.
Luckily, before Krennan had to do anything reckless or stupid, he noticed that he was no longer around. The chemist whirled around, attempting to lock eyes with the trespasser. Instead of meeting with one of Godfrey’s guard, he found the worgen hero standing before him and sniffing into the air. The worgen noticed it before Krennan did, a light rain starting up around them. The chemist laughed quietly, shaking his head before looking to the worgen.
Handing him the potion, Krennan shared the king’s plight with the Worgen: “Greymane has been captured by Godfrey along with Lord Walden and Baron Ashbury. Think you can handle it?”
The worgen sniffed the air a moment longer, then took the offered potion and drunk it. In a second, the massive worgen was gone and stalking his prey. Krennan waited in the bush for some time and was greeted with word of success after Godfrey came riding down on his horse, fleeing the scene of his crimes. The royal chemist started his jog across the bridge, noticing another figure riding towards him. This time it was the worgen who had Lord Walden’s hat on his head. The worgen howled with joy of his success, finally having a hat to tip towards Krennan in greeting as he rode past.
The chemist couldn’t help but laugh as he met up with his king and began planning to take back Greymane City. The preparation took some time, but eventually the king had created a plan where he, his prince, and the recently discovered Lord Crowley would assault the city from three fronts. The news of Crowley’s survival and current condition as a worgen pleased Krennan, knowing that the strong ally would aid them and that Loma would be happy once again with her father.
After the planning, the Gilneans stationed at Tempest’s Reach moved out to gather near Emberstone Village, just outside Greymane City. Krennan helped the initial preparation, but eventually began directing people. He stood at the start of the bridge leading into Greymane City. Citizens that were willing to take arms marched side by side with the Gilneas militia. Brave men and women ready to take back what rightfully belonged to this nation. The chemist felt young again, a smile on his face at remembering the hardships they had endured and would continue to endure together; the bond that the countrymen had with each other.
He noticed someone had moved beside him. Tall. Powerful. Bold. Heroic. Strong. A patriot. An ally. A friend. A Gilnean. A worgen. The two looked at each other for a moment, a look of mutual respect and pride in their eyes at what the Gilneans had accomplished together. The worgen grinned at Krennan, letting out a long howl before he sprinted off, weaving and leaping through the ranks of the Gilnean soldiers to join in combat against the Forsaken. The battle for Greymane City.
“Gilneas will be reborn through the blood of our enemy.”
Another howl sounded out from the stockades on the outskirts of Duskhaven. Krennan craned his stiff neck in the direction of his room’s window. He didn’t have time to sleep. Although the allure was strong for his tired body, there was work to be done. Each hour he spent sleeping was another hour that slipped away from the infected Gilnean’s hourglass.
Exhausted eyes fell upon his notes once more. After a few moments of going over the complicated formula, the chemist mumbled to himself: “Hm, yes. If I use mandrake essence…”
The thought was finished in his head just as his hand reached out for his quill pen. Dipping it in ink, he quickly scribbled a few changes to his formula. After a dozen readings of it, Krennan was satisfied. He was ready to test the new batch. After depositing the quill back in its placeholder, he then picked up the formula paper and rose from his desk. The chemist involuntarily let out an aged groan in the process followed by a deep sigh. No longer was he a fearless young man nor was he quite a wise elder yet, Krennan was firmly in the forgotten middle aged territory.
Once on his feet, the chemist momentarily looked over his gray robes that had been stained with various chemicals. A bath would be one of his first priorities once this was all taken care of.
Krennan approached the largest object in his room: the worktable. The entire table was filled with his chemical work supplies. Glass vials, beakers, tongs, syringes, mixers, funnels, and various other tools he needed for his work. Many of them were filled with liquids that were familiar to Krennan but foreign to the everyday man.
The fruits of Krennan’s labor were located at the far end of the table. Next to several empty vials, there was a large beaker that contained the ‘cure’ to the worgen’s curse. Not a true cure, no. Not by any means. Temporary? Yes. That was the best he had done up until now. The potion was effective in treating and protecting the infected early on, but advanced stages were harder to treat.
Taking a seat at his worktable, Krennan placed the formula down before him. He reached for a vial, but paused midway after catching his reflection in it. The chemist gave a small frown, obviously not happy with what he saw. Dark rings under his eyes. Wrinkles were forming on his facial features as age caught up to him. His hair was now gray and he had begun to bald on the top. What hair he did have was long and spindly, falling to about shoulder length like cobwebs.
“Get it together, Aranas.”
It was not Krennan’s voice, but King Genn Greymane. The chemist was startled at the sudden appearance of the royal figure standing in his doorway. The king was a bearish man, but had grown a quiet grace to his movements ever since the capital fell. Some sort of quality or change that made him harder to notice until he wanted to be noticed.
Hadn’t they all changed though? He recalled tip toeing and quietly running through the alleyways in a desperate attempt to escape the pursuing wolf-men. Adrenaline forcing his body to do things it should no longer be able to do in an attempt to avoid gnashing fangs and bloodstained claws. Seeking refuge up in a tree and climbing it faster than he had when he was a lad.
“Forgive me, my lord.” Krennan moved to stand up from his seat in order to bow, but a quick gesture of Greymane’s hand stopped him. Instead, he simply bowed his head in respect. The king crossed his arms and moved to stand across from the royal chemist. Even in his seventies, the king was still a brawny warrior. Thick features, a heavy beard, and clad in armor that represented the two colors most prominent in Gilneas: black and gray. Krennan looked and felt older than Genn. Perhaps he should have been a knight instead of a chemist.
“How is your work coming?” Greymane’s powerful voice asked. His eyes squinted with a bit of scrutiny at the stain on Krennan’s paper.
“I think I’ve got it.”
“A permanent cure?”
Krennan paused, and then shook his head.
“What then?” Greymane growled impatiently, his eyes rising from the paper to his chemist.
“A temporary solution for the Gilneans transformed by the worgen curse. One more suitable than Godfrey’s solution.”
“I would hope so. Godfrey wants to kill all of them. Those heroes. Don’t forget about the one that saved you.”
The chemist’s hands slammed into the table, the glass vials rattling. Krennan’s voice snapped: “Don’t you think I know that? Don’t you think I want to cure this? I’m trying. I’m doing everything I can to help them!”
Greymane tightened his hand into a fist, digging elongated nails into his palm. He had to maintain control. Couldn’t let Krennan’s outburst get to him. Not now. Not with his people in danger. Not with his people in danger from him. The king quenched the fire in his chest with a deep inhale.
“Then we’ll test it tomorrow, Krennan. Make sure it is ready by then,” the king answered, masking his rage. He did not wait for an answer from the royal chemist. With a commanding stride to his walk, Greymane moved straight out of the room and slammed the door shut behind him. The room rattled for a moment, reminding Krennan of the earthquakes that had been occurring lately.
Krennan’s own anger subsided once Genn was out of the room. The chemist wasted no time and went to work. The rest of the night was a blur for him. Nothing stole his attention away from his labor, not even the howling from outside or the occasional shaking of the ground.
Morning slipped past him without notice. The sun didn’t shine on the Gilneans. At best, they received their comfort from rain and fog, suitable for the isolated nation.
Had he done it? Seated at his work table, he leaned forward to examine the alchemical concoction he had created. Today would be the first test of it. He mumbled a small prayer to the Light and hoped that it would work. If not, then all could be lost for the brave saviors of Gilneas, the ones infected during the worgen attack.
It only took a few minutes to bottle the sample and ensure that it was safely packed into his bag. The chemist was already to his feet and ready to move out to meet the King. Before he made it out, the door received several short knocks, and then was abruptly opened. As soon as the chemist saw who it was, his heart skipped a beat.
Gwen Armstead. Mayor of Duskhaven. Barging into his room.
Her voice had a playful quality to it: “Ain’t you a chipper looking one?”
The brown haired woman entered the room with a tray, carrying a bowl of porridge and a pot of tea. She wore her favorite hat—the one with red flowers on it. Gwen didn’t go anywhere without that hat. It saw her through the worgen attack on the capital. That hat was her lucky charm. And damn good looking too.
The hat. Not her. Well, Krennan thought she too was damn good looking, but his social and societal graces along with his natural lack of charms forced him to never speak of it. Besides, what would a woman like that want with a man like him?
The chemist was still speechless and awkward, both in his thoughts and in his presence. Gwen set the breakfast tray down on a clear spot of the worktable. After brushing the skirts of her Gilnean dress, a style that had flair to it despite its drabness, she sat herself down on one of his work stools. The young mayor stared back at Krennan before quietly giggling into one hand. “Sit down and eat. You’ve been skipping meals.”
Snapping out of his stupor, Krennan shook his head quickly. “My apologies, Mayor Armstead. I really can’t afford to eat now, the King awaits my work.”
When Krennan rounded the corner of the table and grew closer to the door, Gwen stood and interposed herself in front of him. Placing one hand on his robed chest, she gently pushed him down onto a stool.
“Now, now. If you go out and about now, you’ll pass out and die from hunger and exhaustion you will. We can at least take care of one of those,” the Mayor had one of those charming Gilnean accents when she spoke, one any foreigner would be jealous of.
She maneuvered herself around to grab the tray once more and place the meal before Krennan. He had been so caught off guard by the act, that he didn’t protest any. While Gwen poured two cups of tea, Krennan took the bowl of porridge and slowly ate it with a wooden spoon.
After Gwen had a sip of tea and Krennan a few mouthfuls of porridge, the mayor spoke up to break the silence: “You did it then?”
Disappointment crept up in the throat of the chemist: “No. Temporary solution for the ones infected while defending Gilneas. A potent dosage should give the worgens control until I can find something more permanent or a way to reverse it.”
Guilt hung over the head of Krennan, so much so that Gwen could easily see it in the chemist’s demeanor. The mayor gave a weak smile: “Krennan, you mustn’t blame yourself for all that. You’re doing your best here. Without you, many other Gilneans would have been lost.”
Krennan paused between bites, reaching for his cup of tea. He shot his head back and downed the drink in one motion, letting out a noise of satisfaction afterwards. Food and drink always provided joy to all people, despite the direness of any situation. Meals were truly a common thread that tied everyone together. The body could find satisfaction regardless of the mind’s state.
While food comforted his body, Gwen’s words did little to ease his mind and guilt. The chemist could muster no response to her and continued to eat. After his breakfast was finished, Krennan stood and bowed his head in thanks. The mayor smiled softy and gestured to the door: “Get gabbin or get goin.”
That caused the first smile in awhile to form on Krennan’s face. If only he was a bit younger, a bit bolder, and a bit more charming. Perhaps she could be his.
The royal chemist left Gwen and her house. It hadn’t been Aranas’ first choice of residence, but both the mayor and the king insisted. The late morning air was still chilly from the famed Gilnean mist and fog. Each resident or refugee he passed on the streets earned a small nod of acknowledgement from Krennan. Some had the energy and hope to nod back, others woefully and fearfully ignored him.
The walk helped to clear his mind, but did nothing to relieve his fatigue. Even the short walk to the stockades was a tiring process for him. The ground around the stockades was muddy from recent rain. Had he missed a brief opportunity to shower in the rainwater? A shame as it would have crossed the luxurious idea of a bath off his to do list.
The stockades were tucked away in a safe portion of the city, just in case any of the Worgen escaped. While Krennan hated seeing fellow Gilneans restrained here, it had been the safest option for the townspeople and the worgen. Most of the men that went with Crowley to defend the city and buy the evacuees more time had gone missing after the worgen attacked Light’s Dawn Cathedral. Lord Darius Crowley, the patriot whose attempt at rebellion ended up saving the city in the end, was presumed dead.
Luckily, not all of the heroes had gone missing. Even the one that had saved Krennan had been found and recovered, brought here to Duskhaven in hopes that they could be cured or helped. King Greymane had given the order himself, ensuring that these heroes would get all the help they could.
When Krennan arrived to the center of the muddy circle of the stockades, he approached the King and Lord Godfrey who had been waiting for him. Lord Godfrey was a tall and powerfully built man, although King Greymane made Godfrey look like a child when they stood next to each other, both in size and presence.
One worgen in particular seemed alert and focused on the three humans gathered then. The one that had saved Krennan. The worgen were truly a sight to behold. They were taller than a man with wide shoulders and muscular arms. Hands that ended in claws sharp enough to disembowel anything. Powerful legs that made them impossible to outrun normally. Beasts built to kill.
Greymane and Godfrey hadn’t been talking when Krennan approached. Even after the chemist joined them, nothing was said. Fearlessly, Krennan Aranas approached the worgen hero and kneeled in front of him. Taking his bag off, the chemist quickly went through his alchemy supplies and removed a small vial.
Lord Godfrey brushed a hand on his black coat jacket, placing his blunderbuss stock against the ground and using the weapon as a cane. If it was up to the nobleman, he’d put a silver bullet through the head of all these monsters. There was no hope for any of these worgen. The nobleman thought Krennan was a fool for trying to help them.
But the fool would find some success. Krennan rose to his feet and placed a hand on the back of the worgen hero’s head to prevent him from snapping. In his current state, the worgen wasn’t that cooperative. With a little effort though, the concoction was administered to the beast.
The royal chemist’s eyes watered a little, the worgen hero showing little changes. However, after several moments, a look of surprise and recognition crossed the features of the lupine champion.
Krennan gave a grim smile, then spoke, “I’m not giving up on you. I don’t have a cure for the Curse…yet. But there are treatments. You’ll have control again.”
A loud and obnoxious chortle came from Godfrey who hefted his gun to his shoulder. The guffaw grated on Krennan’s nerves. Godfrey’s voice was obnoxious and smug, “Give it up, Krennan. It’s time to put this one down. It’s protocol.”
An infuriated look crossed the features of King Genn Greymane. He put a powerful hand on Godfrey, pushing him back a little when the gun toting nobleman tried to move towards the worgen. The king moved to stare down Godfrey.
“Tell me, Godfrey. Those that stayed in Gilneas City so that we could live. Were they following protocol?” The King’s words were a challenge to Godfrey who backed down in response and lowered his hat covered head.
Greymane smirked, having won the confrontation. “I didn’t think so. Now hand me that potion, Krennan…and double the dosage.”
Krennan followed his King’s orders, rummaging through his bag to create a double dosage of the potion. Godfrey had slinked away, defeated and no doubt ready to kick around some mastiffs to make himself feel better. Krennan looked disgusted at the thought, but shook it from his head as he handed the dosage over to Genn. The king nodded and gestured for the chemist to leave. Krennan opened his mouth to protest, but remembered his place. With a bow, the royal chemist left King Genn Greymane to administer the dosage to the worgen hero.
Krennan stole occasional looks back to the stockades while he headed down the streets of Duskhaven. Before he was out of sight, he saw the King release the worgen from its holding. When Krennan turned a street corner, he felt a small tremor start up once more. Gilneas had been suffering from these earthquakes ever since the disaster with the worgen started. Whether or not the earthquakes were just a problem for Gilneas or for all of Azeroth was still unknown to Krennan.
The tremor started off slow. Those on the streets, including Krennan, grabbed onto the nearest object that they could for support. For the chemist, this was a nearby lamppost. The earthquake quickly grew in volume, shaking every building in the town. Roof shingles slid off the nearby buildings, crashing and breaking into the street next to Krennan. This had been the worse one yet, the chemist thought. Sheer panic started to set in when the shaking refused to end.
With both of his arms around the light pole, Krennan yelped and looked down quickly when he felt his feet and body start to rise. The tremors had become so intense, that the streets rose and moved with the direction of the quake. Stone and dirt collapsed roughly back onto the ground, the street lamp Krennan held onto tipping over and crashing into the street. By a sheer stroke of luck, the royal chemist twisted his body to avoid being pinned underneath it.
While the earth and streets settled down, damaged remained on the path that ranged from overturned boxes and carts to even an older building caving in on itself. These tremors weren’t natural. Krennan knew that much. They couldn’t have come at a worse time either, with the worgen trouble still on the rise. Pushing himself up into a sitting position, he glanced down both sides of the street. Other people were recovering from the disaster and the chemist hoped that no one was injured.
With the groan he had grown accustomed to lately, Krennan rose to his feet and brushed himself off carefully. He looked down at the fallen lamp post in front of him, briefly muttering a prayer to the Light. It seemed like he had a guardian angel watching over him lately. No longer was his pace a slow walk, but a good sprint that invigorated him. That nap he had planned would have to wait.
Gwen Armstead met Krennan at the door to her house, gesturing him in. Once he was through the door, the pair moved a little further into the entryway.
The mayor sighed, “Is the King on his way back?”
The chemist nodded in response while Gwen gave him an inquisitive look, wondering what had occurred at the stocks. She suddenly had her answer when she found the hulking worgen hero standing in her doorway, sniffing at the air. A momentary look of fear crossed Gwen’s eyes, but was soothed with an insisting hand gesture from Krennan. He had done it. He had really done it! A monster did not stand before them, but a man. A man sniffing and occasionally scratching himself, but a man nonetheless! Even in this worgen form.
“It worked! By the Light, it worked!” Krennan’s voice was a surge of excitement, as if he was opening a gift from Greatfather Winter. The worgen hero’s feral eyes fell upon Krennan and formed a grin large enough to eat a grandmother.
The excitement died down in the chemist as he continued his speech, sharing what the Worgen wanted to know: “The effects of the curse cannot ever be fully cured as far as we know.”
It was with great pain that Krennan admitted it to himself and shared it. He had thought a cure was possible, but more and more that seemed unlikely. If there was, he knew now that it was beyond his skill.
“With treatment, however, your mind will remain yours,” Krennan paused, then continued: “And not that of a wild animal. We are fortunate that the treatment worked on you. Normally, I can only treat recent infections.”
The worgen hero snarled for a moment in anger, clenching a clawed fist. Krennan felt sympathy for his fellow Gilnean, knowing that the news was not easy to hear and that he himself was not exactly a good person to be giving bad news out.
Krennan carefully conveyed the next step to the worgen hero: “We’ll need to continue your medication if we’re to have you reverse the curse. I will need mandrake essence to brew another batch of my serum for you. You will find a crate stashed beneath a shed southwest of town.”
It was an easy enough task. Surely there would be no complications? The worgen moved to tip a hat that wasn’t there to Krennan, then looked a bit frustrated at the realization that he was indeed missing a hat. Krennan moved up the stairs to his lab to begin the preparations of the next serum for the worgen.
Krennan sat at his worktable, arranging various beakers and vials into their holders. Not much timed passed before another earthquake hit Duskhaven and the surrounding area. The noise from the shifting and changing landscape near the shore was noticeable by all the town’s denizens. All the prep work that the chemist performed was ruined, falling off the side of the worktable and shattering upon the floor.
Krennan hung onto his chair, feeling nauseated from all the shaking. When the quake ended, he stood up and used the wall to steady himself. Leaving his work room, he traveled down the stairs to see a glimpse of the worgen hero sprinting from the house. When had the worgen returned? Had he been so quiet that Krennan had not noticed his return or had he just been so preoccupied with his work?
Krennan looked to Gwen, who had been watching the worgen leave. Aranas’ voice had an alarming quality to it: “Where is he going? He needs more of the serum.”
Gwen wasn’t nearly as startled with Krennan’s appearance as she had been with the worgen’s arrival. Turning to face the chemist, Gwen rubbed her hand against her own cheek. She shook her head, muttering: “There weren’t any mandrake essences left.”
“What? Why?”
“A Forsaken assassin destroyed it and killed the watchmen guarding it.” Gwen’s hand lowered to her side once more, a look of disbelief on her face.
The Forsaken. Remnants of the undead scourge that had acquired freedom from the Lich King’s control. Under the banner of Sylvanas Windrunner, a high elf ranger turned by the Lich King, these intelligent undead had rallied under the Horde’s banner. Krennan knew of the conflicts between the Horde and the Alliance. The Gilneans had no love for the Horde either despite not joining the Alliance.
The chemist didn’t think anyone, least of all the Forsaken, would attack them. But was this not the perfect time for it? The Gilneans were still dealing the worgen curse and these cataclysmic changes to Azeroth must have created the opening the Forsaken needed to reach the once impenetrable nation of Gilneas.
Even from within Gwen’s house, Krennan could hear the distant sound of battle reaching the nearby shores. The commanding shouts of Prince Liam Greymane rose out over all combat noises, inspiring the watchguards to defend the town of Duskhaven from their invaders. The chilling howl of the worgen hero accompanied the prince’s shouts.
Krennan couldn’t help but shiver himself as he whispered: “By the Light…what should we do?”
Gwen didn’t skip a beat, even with the looming threat of the undead at their shores. “Prince Liam has been reckless since Gilneas fell, but with our worgen ally, they can hold the line for us until we evacuate the citizens to safety.”
A thought occurred to the chemist then: “We should move them to Greymane Manor. It’s up the way. The higher ground would be safer. Not just from the Forsaken, but from the earthquakes.”
The mayor gave a nod to Krennan: “I’ll handle rallying the citizens here. Head to Melinda Hammond’s farm and get the villagers there to here safely.”
The two parted ways without another word, a silent well wishing of good luck occurring between the two. Krennan moved from the house and paused outside, patting his robe down for a vial of green liquid. A swiftness potion, created from briarthorn and swiftthistle. He uncorked the top with his thumb and downed the liquid in one drink. With that needed boost of energy and speed, Krennan ran through the town faster than any normal man could. It didn’t take long until he reached the outskirts of Duskhaven, traveling down the road towards the farm. In the distance, he could see the opened fields between the shoreline and Duskhaven.
The undead clashed blades against the living. Mastiffs barked and charged the enemies of the Gilneans, seeking Forsaken bones. The stitched and bloated abominations that fought against the humans were being defeated through the use of explosive barrels. Even in the distance, Krennan swore he saw the catapults of the Forsaken turned against their owners thanks to the efforts of the worgen hero and the Gilneans.
The spurt of speed provided to Krennan by the potion ended when the chemist arrived at the farm. He took a brief look around and heard sounds coming from the cellar. Opening the double doors built into the ground, the chemist headed down into the cellar of Melinda Hammond’s farm. There, he found a group of Gilneas citizens crowded together, along with Lord Godfrey and his blunderbuss.
The nobleman grunted at Krennan, but provided no other greeting than that. The chemist looked over and was happy to see a good deal of the citizens who lived nearby the farm, including Melinda Hammond herself and her three children Cynthia, Ashley, and James.
“Can you believe there are good worgens?” James, the young boy whispered to his siblings. Lord Godfrey’s upper lip curled in disgust, but Krennan intervened before the nobleman said anything.
Clapping his hands together, the chemist drew the entire attention of the room: “Everyone, we need to head to Duskhaven and begin the evacuation to Greymane Manor.”
Godfrey wasn’t about to argue with Krennan. The nobleman didn’t want to be in danger if he could help it. Krennan quickly lead the crowd of people out of the cellar and towards Duskhaven. The trek back took longer since the chemist couldn’t provide swiftness potions for everyone.
The battle against the two ships offshore seemed to be grinding to a halt. Krennan spared a longing look in the direction of the battlefield, noticing the worgen hero leading a group of mastiffs against one of Sylvanas’ well trained Dark Rangers. The confrontation didn’t last long with the mastiffs swarming the undead high elf.
Before Krennan’s very eyes, the ground near the shore began to collapse with a powerful earth shattering quake. The villagers traveling to Duskhaven screamed and cried as the earth shook, knocking most of them to the ground. Krennan managed to plant his feet firmly into the ground, receiving the perfect view of the coastline just vanishing and plummeting into the ocean. With it were the screams of half of the Gilnean watch disappearing with the land itself.
When the shaking stopped, the worgen hero wasted no time, and charged straight into the water, plunging in the cold sea to rescue those he could from drowning. Inspired by the worgen’s selfless act, Krennan quickly hurried the rest of the Gilneans on. It wasn’t much longer until they arrived in Duskhaven. The chemist quickly spotted Gwen ushering civilians into wagons and carriages drawn by horses.
Despite the fear and panic many of the citizens were feeling, the Gilneans seemed oddly prepared for the evacuation since they had already suffered a similar experience when the worgen curse broke out. Krennan’s group joined with the other citizens to find transportation out of Duskhaven. Lord Godfrey found his own private carriage while Krennan met with Gwen. The chemist couldn’t help but notice the tired look in her eyes. A small grin formed on his face as he quipped to her: “Ain’t you a chipper looking one?”
Gwen couldn’t help but laugh, shaking her head. “Yeah, yeah. Very funny, Krennan. Is this everyone?”
“I believe so. What’s our next step?”
Gwen gestured to the lead wagon at the head of the road. “Take it. Lead our people to Greymane Manor. I’ll finish up here.”
Krennan looked conflicted, a bit fearful that Gwen’s delay could cost her. The mayor gave a confident smirk, patting the chemist on his cheek. Her voice was playful, “Get goin. Rest of us will be along shortly. I need to make sure our friend finds Loma Crowley, the Hayward Brothers, and Grandma Wahl.”
He knew that the Hayward brothers were resourceful, they would be fine. Grandma Wahl had grown senile to say the least in her old age, though some claimed that it was simply an act she put on. Nonetheless, she was in no position to evacuate on her own and she lived on the outskirts of Duskhaven.
Loma Crowley was still distraught over the disappearance and presumed death of her father. She had refused to meet with anyone but Krennan during the time. The chemist attempted to console her and he kept what the two shared between themselves, but he worried greatly for her. Hopefully she could be convinced to evacuate with the others.
Before he could protest any further, Gwen was already shouting out some orders to what little of the watch remained in the city. Krennan sighed to himself then maneuvered towards the head of the pack. With help from the lead coach driver, he was situated on the lead carriage at the head of the Duskhaven evacuation.
The wheels of the carriage spun rapidly as the driver ushers the horses onward. The caravan moved at a steady pace, fearful that the land could swallow them whole at anytime. The trip to Greymane Manor didn’t take long, but the horses had to exert a lot of effort to head up the steep road. The queen herself had received word of the refugees’ arrival and awaited outside her house, the doors opened for her subjects.
Queen Mia Greymane wore a royal white dress. Her hair had begun to go from gray to white. Yet she possessed the same energy and determination as the aging king did. Determined to do her part in this, she ushered Krennan down from his coach.
“It is good to see you again, Royal Chemist Krennan Aranas. I wish it was only on better terms.” The queen offered a smile while Krennan replied with a groan from dismounting from the vehicle.
Krennan recovered by bowing his head and smiling: “It is good to see you too my queen.”
“Come. The manor has been prepared for the refugees.”
The queen ushered Krennan in while the coaches and wagons made regular trips up to the front of the manor and Gilneans poured out from then. Luckily, the manor was large enough to accommodate the masses. Krennan and Mia didn’t have a chance to speak any further with each other, busied by assisting Gilneans with being comfortable or those that had injured themselves in the evacuation.
It was an hour later before Gwen had fulfilled her word. She had managed to evacuate the rest of Duskhaven, including those the worgen hero had been sent out to assist. The worgen had entered last, many of the refugees stopping to stare at him. There was some agitation on the wolf man’s face, but he played it off by tipping a hat that wasn’t there. At the realization that he still didn’t have a hat, the agitation resumed.
Krennan didn’t have time to speak to the worgen hero, but the queen and mayor met with him briefly before directing him upstairs to meet with the king. The chemist continued his work with the people, providing potions to the wounded and tending to other wounds with more mundane means like bandages and salves. While assisting Grandma Wahl by applying the same ointment he was going to apply to her, but one that she claimed was different and better for her, the entire manor shook from another one of the earthquakes.
This was the worse one yet and if it wasn’t for the study foundation of the Greymane Manor, the whole building would’ve collapsed on the majority of the Gilneans left. Fearful cries and hushed whimpers filled the large entrance room where the refugees took sanctuary. The shaking soon stopped once more, but the cries of the Gilneans were not halted until their king appeared at the stop of their stairs.
Finally having left the observatory he had held himself up in since the Forsaken attacked, the powerful Genn Greymane’s presence commanded the attention of his people. Behind him, the worgen hero stood proudly.
“My people,” the king started, looking over the crowd. “Duskhaven has been swallowed whole by the sea. Forsaken reinforcements have arrived by ship and seek to push inland. We must retreat further inland and gather our fellow countrymen to defend ourselves from them! We will reclaim our capital. These abominations will fall to our steel, our magic, and to the Light. Long live Gilneas!”
The king threw his arm up in celebration, shouting the words with pride. The people rallied under his banner, an entire room of people shouting and cheering for Gilneas. Preparing themselves and steeling their nerves against an enemy that sought to enslave them and use them for experimentations. The Forsaken were an enemy that would not hesitate to unleash vile plagues upon the Gilneans or strip the flesh from the living and eat them.
Krennan looked on with approval, even joining in the shouts of national pride. The shouting had an accompanied howl join them from the worgen hero and for the moment, the Gilneans didn’t fear the man they had learned to count on. He was no different from any of them. They were all Gilneans and they were all in this mess together.
Genn spoke up after the shouts had begun to quiet down: “Lord Godfrey, Prince Liam, Queen Mia, Mayor Armstread, Lady Loma Crowley, Royal Chemist Aranas, and…” He paused, moving to grip the shoulder of the worgen and pull him next to him. “This man will lead the evacuation process to Stormglen. Follow their orders and we shall rejoin our countrymen and force the invaders from our lands!”
Another series of cheers erupted amongst the Gilneans! The victory shouts lingered, only fading out once everyone in the room prepared to move out. The evacuation process took less than a hour, most of them still packed with the belongings they had brought with them. After discussing the plans, Gwen Armstead and Loma Crowley were placed in the lead of the evacuation. The king and queen would handle the rear while Krennan, Lord Godfrey, Prince Liam, and the worgen took care of the bulk of it all.
Krennan assisted with helping passengers into various wagons, but before long he felt the heavy hand of Prince Liam guiding him into his own coach in front of Lord Godfrey’s ride. The ride throughout the Gilnean countryside led through the trees, heading deeper and deeper into the forests near Blackwald. Krennan hoped that Stormglen had managed to survive despite the worgen attacks, but if the capital fell then that meant the nearby communities stood little chance. Krennan spent most of the ride staring out the side window at the coastline, where Duskhaven had been only hour or so ago.
The chemist drifted off to sleep, but it was a restless one that was soon interrupted by a loud crash behind his still moving coach. Krennan shook his head, opening his window and sticking his head out to see behind him. Godfrey’s coach was still moving, but the one behind him that belonged to the Prince had been flipped and attacked. That’s when he noticed the ettins—tall and powerful ogre creatures.
Krennan was about to shout something when he noticed a blur of fur leaping off a wagon that went around the wreckage of the prince’s coach. The worgen hero howled, quickly rising to the defense of Prince Liam and the men that had been with him. The royal chemist had only a fading glimpse of the fight against the ettins and their leader Koroth, his driver spurring the horses on with recklessness in fear that the danger might catch them.
With the worgen backing the prince up, Krennan felt safe. That security washed away when his carriage arrived on the outskirts of Stormglen, spotting the guards that had accompanied Gwen and Loma forming a barrier in the middle of the town. Then the chemist saw what the guards were defending against—spiders the size of horses.
The two sides were at a stalemate and each seemed to equally take up part of the town. Krennan left his coach, noticing that the refugee masses were being moved into nearby buildings for safety. Loma Crowley was on the frontlines with the guard, using her rifle and mastiffs to help defend against the spiders. Gwen Armstead assisted the Gilneans with finding safe spots, shouting out orders.
The chemist approached her, nearly falling over when he did. His legs almost buckled under him, fatigue having finally set in on him. The mayor gripped Krennan by his shoulders, holding him up. “Been pushin yourself too much, Aranas,” Gwen quietly teased, the concern for her friend evident on her face. Krennan shook his head to disagree, but Gwen helped shoulder the weight of the chemist by throwing one of his arms around her neck. A nearby guard saw the scene, moving to assist Gwen with moving Krennan into the inn.
The chemist shook his head, muttering: “No, I’ll be fine. I just got out of the coach too fast.”
Gwen gave a mixture of a snort and a laugh, earning an odd look from the guard. The conversation didn’t go any further, Krennan ending up on the second floor of the inn and placed into one of the waiting beds. Krennan’s eyes closed and he drifted off shortly after laying his head on the pillow. The last thing he felt before falling asleep was a small peck to his forehead from the mayor.
Krennan slept for an indeterminate amount of time, waking up quite rested. He felt sheepish for a moment, embarrassed that fatigue had caught up to him. His eyes looked around the room, noticing other survivors sleeping in beds. He sat up with a groan and then shifted off the bed. Heading downstairs into the room, he found Loma Crowley pouring over some sort of journal, patching it back together.
Gwen Armstead was also in the room, smiling when she saw Krennan and gestured him over. She opened her mouth to say something, but the chemist raised her hand and cut her off. He greeted her with amusement, “Yes, aren’t I a chipper looking one?”
Gwen laughed quietly to herself, smiling and adjusting her hat. “You are. So chipper in fact, you should go show yourself off to the king. He’s been looking for you. Godfrey went up to Tempest’s Reach and sent word down the mountain that he found survivors. The king wants you to go with him and meet them.”
“Thanks, Mayor Armstead.”
“Come off it, call me Gwen already.”
A bit of hesitation was given before Krennan was willing to throw away the traditions ingrained in him: “Alright. Thanks Gwen.”
“Don’t mention it.”
The chemist parted ways, pausing only to give a smile and wave to the busy Loma Crowley. King Greymane waited on the road leading out of Stormglen on top of a gray steed Genn offered a hand to help Krennan mount up with him, the process taking a bit more effort than the chemist would’ve liked.
“Doing better, Aranas?” The king seemed concern for the chemist rather than giving him one of his usual chidings.
“Yes my lord. I’m prepared to help the survivors up on Tempest’s Reach.”
“Good man,” Genn patted Krennan’s arm and then took off, leading the horse up the mountainous road. The traveling took a bit of time, but it allowed a chance for the chemist to fully awaken and be on the top of his game. However, when they arrived at the bridge leading to the top, Genn stopped the horse.
“Wait here, Krennan. Something isn’t right about this.”
The chemist knew protest would be useless, very rarely did it seem that Krennan actually won any arguments like that. He dismounted and moved to hide in some brush while the king moved across the bridge on his horse. On the other side, Greymane’s suspicions proved true when Godfrey was waiting with men and held the king up at gunpoint, forcing him off his horse and taking him prisoner.
“The motherless mongrel,” Krennan growled under his breath, patting his robes down for something. Without a horse, it would take awhile to get back and reach Stormglen for help. If he left, there was no telling what they would do to Greymane. But if he stayed behind, how could he help his king? There were little options, but Krennan’s chemistry skills were put to use when he pulled an invisibility potion from his robes, created from mixing sungrass and ghost mushrooms.
Luckily, before Krennan had to do anything reckless or stupid, he noticed that he was no longer around. The chemist whirled around, attempting to lock eyes with the trespasser. Instead of meeting with one of Godfrey’s guard, he found the worgen hero standing before him and sniffing into the air. The worgen noticed it before Krennan did, a light rain starting up around them. The chemist laughed quietly, shaking his head before looking to the worgen.
Handing him the potion, Krennan shared the king’s plight with the Worgen: “Greymane has been captured by Godfrey along with Lord Walden and Baron Ashbury. Think you can handle it?”
The worgen sniffed the air a moment longer, then took the offered potion and drunk it. In a second, the massive worgen was gone and stalking his prey. Krennan waited in the bush for some time and was greeted with word of success after Godfrey came riding down on his horse, fleeing the scene of his crimes. The royal chemist started his jog across the bridge, noticing another figure riding towards him. This time it was the worgen who had Lord Walden’s hat on his head. The worgen howled with joy of his success, finally having a hat to tip towards Krennan in greeting as he rode past.
The chemist couldn’t help but laugh as he met up with his king and began planning to take back Greymane City. The preparation took some time, but eventually the king had created a plan where he, his prince, and the recently discovered Lord Crowley would assault the city from three fronts. The news of Crowley’s survival and current condition as a worgen pleased Krennan, knowing that the strong ally would aid them and that Loma would be happy once again with her father.
After the planning, the Gilneans stationed at Tempest’s Reach moved out to gather near Emberstone Village, just outside Greymane City. Krennan helped the initial preparation, but eventually began directing people. He stood at the start of the bridge leading into Greymane City. Citizens that were willing to take arms marched side by side with the Gilneas militia. Brave men and women ready to take back what rightfully belonged to this nation. The chemist felt young again, a smile on his face at remembering the hardships they had endured and would continue to endure together; the bond that the countrymen had with each other.
He noticed someone had moved beside him. Tall. Powerful. Bold. Heroic. Strong. A patriot. An ally. A friend. A Gilnean. A worgen. The two looked at each other for a moment, a look of mutual respect and pride in their eyes at what the Gilneans had accomplished together. The worgen grinned at Krennan, letting out a long howl before he sprinted off, weaving and leaping through the ranks of the Gilnean soldiers to join in combat against the Forsaken. The battle for Greymane City.
“Gilneas will be reborn through the blood of our enemy.”
