Hello all! This is sort of an origin story for the character I RP as on Moon Guard. Feedback, is welcome, as are questions. (Please keep in mind that I know very little lore.)
Bite of the Blackhound
The chilly autumn winds swept through the fog cloaked trees of Silverpine, the only sound being, the steady clopping of hooves on cobblestone. Not a bird or cricket could be heard for miles. The eerie silence before the storm to come.
Dismounting from the heavily armored equine, a heavily cloaked, but oddly graceful figure. An Elf with an affiliation with blood. He approached a far more imposing form. An overseer from Orgrimmar, who’s lips curled at the mere sight of the approaching Elf.
“Make it quick, Valron! The Scourge have come crawling from their pits in these forests, and you wish to stay!”
The Elf, known by the name Valron Flarehide smirked at the Orc’s statement. “That was not a question! Still, I suppose there is no beating around the bush now is there?” the Warlock extended his arms, as if he were a performer in a play. “Of course, I’m not under the assumption that this region is lost!”
The Orcish Overseer’s face contorted in rage. “The fortifications of Gilneas are standing strong! They will weather the storm… We have no need to remain here!” His tone was akin to a father who’d had many an argument with his unruly son.
Valron scoffed, laughing uproariously into the palm of his hand. “By all means! Send a couple of scouts to verify what is already known! You know as well as I that it won’t be that easy to breach Gilneas! Besides, what I want is a little more…valuable to me on a personal level.”
The Overseer sighed as he climbed onto the back of his own horse. “Do as you please.” He muttered before setting off on the path back home.
Valron smirked as he raised his hand in the direction of Ambermill, where his prize resided. “Oh I will, old friend!”
The next morning word of the Scourge invasion saw the town of Ambermill prepare for an evacuation with great urgency. The few small families in the town packing their things and clearing out of the region. Amongst the last civilians in town was a woman by the name Julia Inigo.
The woman was practically in a panic as her daughter Krystal Inigo was missing. Working to steady herself as she loaded the last of her things into a carriage, the woman turned and looked pleading into the eyes of a guard, who shook his head in response.
“I’m sorry miss. There is still no sign of your daughter.”
Julia scoffed. “Some help you are! I thought the point of the Kirin Tor’s involvement was to keep us from needing to leave!”
The guard shook his head again, closing his eyes and sighing through his nose. “Such fortifications take time to set up, miss. The Kirin Tor are powerful, but we are not gods.” The man’s voice was tired, this was not the first time he’d given this speech this morning.
Julia sighed and turned away to be met with a wonderful sight. Another guard approaching with Krystal in tow. The girl skipped brightly into her mother’s arms. “Thank goodness.” Julia whispered, looking up to the guard who had a severe expression on his face.
“Miss Inigo. Krystal was near the Shadowfang Keep.”
Julia gasped and looked into Krystal’s eyes, the girl seemingly oblivious. “I want to see the pretty doggies there!” She bounced excitedly.
Julia clasped her daughter’s shoulders with her hands. “Krystal. Worgen are not doggies. Worgen are not pretty. Worgen are not nice. Please don’t wander like that.”
“I’m sorry momma!” The girl sniffled, embracing her mother.
One of the guards held open the carriage door. “It’s a good thing nothing bad happened to you young one. Worgen are truly vile creatures…” The rest of the guard’s statement was drowned out by several fiery explosions that shattered what little fortifications Ambermill had. The armor clad skeletons of the Scourge following soon after to assail the survivors.
A fair distance away, Valron Flamehide smirked, as fire wreathed his elven form. “All too easy…” He began laughing as he watched his plans unfold, eagerly awaiting his chance to collect his prize.
The rising flames from the now burning Ambermill, drew more than the Scourge’s attention, as a thunderous howl filled the air. A group of a dozen female Worgen came running for the nearby woods. Their bodies clad in armor, weapons sheathed and held firm to their backs as they ran in on all fours.
Weaving through the trees and sizing up their prey before striking. The region now alive with a symphony of war. Armor against armor, blade against blade. Roars of the undead mixed with the cries of forest beasts, as the occasional scream from a human, heralded a new addition to the Scourges’ legion.
Breaking through the boundaries of Ambermill, the Worgen shifted to charge on two legs, their weapons coming to rest in their claws as they fought in formation. Moving in from the side of the town, while the scourge moved out from the middle. More explosions rocking the town’s foundations and inflicting massive damage to human and undead alike.
The diversion allowed the approaching Worgen to begin carving massive swaths through the forces remaining. Ghouls and zombies were sliced apart as if made of butter. Skeletons were broken by well placed attacks to their exposed limbs and spines. Abominations and Crypt Fiends were taken from behind, while being distracted from the front.
The Worgen moved as if they were all a part of a much larger beast, fighting their way to Ambermill’s ravaged center. In the distance a voice cried out! “Momma! Don’t let them take me!” The black furred Worgen at the head of the pack glanced briefly in the direction of the voice, before focusing in on her goal.
A destroyed carriage surrounded by recently killed humans. Reaching inside, the Worgen plucked a talisman from the hand of a young woman. Examining the artifact in her claws, the Worgen noticed it’s former owner stir slightly.
“Please…Help my daughter.” Julia coughed and sputtered, her voice weak.
The Worgen cocked her head curiously, before turning and observing a cloaked figure on the nearby hillside, as it mounted it’s horse and retreated into the fog. The fires slowed and stilled as rain began to fall from the sky, thunder rumbling in the distance.
“Please…” Julia pleaded again.
The Worgen turned back to the woman. “I am not here to save you.” She growled.
Julia reached out weakly. “Just to steal an old necklace?”
“This trinket of yours is what summoned the Scourge!” The Worgen hissed through bared fangs.
Julia laughed weakly. “You’re certain?” She smiled as she looked into the Worgen’s eyes. “If that’s the case, my daughter shouldn’t be made to pay for my mistakes.”
The Worgen scowled and bared her fangs. “If she’s even still alive…Why would you trust a monster like me with her?”
Tears began to run down Julia’s face. “I don’t…” She spoke honestly. “Krystal would though…She loves Worgen…You’re…Her only hope…Please…Save her…” With that final plea, Julia closed her eyes and her life faded as she smiled for the last time.
The Worgen, known by the name Simona Black, stood in thought for a few moments, before turning to her pack, known collectively as the Blackhound Mercenaries.
The packs second in command, Honey Stanford, smirked knowingly as she addressed Simona. “Another addition to the family Mother?”
Simona nodded, looking in the direction she had heard the earlier scream.
Without another word the pack dispersed to the boundaries of the ruined town, to keep vigil as their leader searched. Thankfully it didn’t take Simona long to find the child.
Hidden in a small cave, Krystal was an absolute mess. Her dress torn and marbled with mud and ash. A fallen Crypt Fiend blocking the cave entrance, likely sent back to the grave by one of the explosions that had assailed the town.
Simona let her senses guide her to the child, the scent of sweat and tears, mixed with the sounds of her frightened crying. A sound that grew louder as Simona pushed her way into the cave, almost bumping straight into the girl.
It was quickly apparent that her mother had spoken true, as the child’s cries quickly faded to quite sniffling as her eyes looked over the Worgen in innocent wonder. “Hi doggy!” The girl greeted Simona, reaching her tiny hand out as if the Massive, heavily armed mercenary was a housepet.
Simona accepted the child’s touch, and moved in to check her for injuries. The Worgen’s nose searching for any hidden surprises. The girl giggled as she pet the Worgen’s mane and scratched behind its ear. “Momma says Worgen are mean, what does she know?”
Simona had to stifle a laugh at the comment, determining that the child was safe, simply frightened, the Worgen silently encouraged the girl onto her back. Once certain she was holding on, the mercenary climbed out of the hole and moved back into town with the child in tow.
In the ruined center of Ambermill, the pack converged to greet their new sibling. Taking turns each of the pack’s members approached and sniffed the child in greeting. Krystal gave each a pat on the head in turn.
Now back on her feet, Simona observed the carriage where Juila had met her end. Honey joined her mother after greeting the child herself.
“What a pure soul.” The brown furred Worgen noted.
Simona nodded. “Indeed. She wouldn’t survive otherwise.”
Honey arched a brow at Simona. “Is this really a mercy though?” She asked.
Simona closed her eyes and exhaled through her nose. “It’s the only mercy we have to give her, my child.”
The pair of Worgen turned back to see Krystal now staring at the wrecked carriage, her tiny hands shaking. “Momma? Is Momma…alright?” The girl asked on the verge of tears.
Simona dropped to all fours to look the girl in the eyes somberly. “I’m sorry dear…Your mother did not make it.”
The dam burst, as Krystal broke down in tears, embracing the Worgen and sobbing into the fur of her chest. The rest of the pack looked on with unspoken sorrow on their faces for their new sister. So taken aback were they, that the still lingering threat of the Scourge was forgotten.
A loud yelp rang out through the air as one of the pack was sent staggering and falling to the dirt by an arrow fired from a distant rooftop.
Simona observed a wave of reinforcements as they charged into the town. Taking Krystal into her hands, the Worgen locked the girl in a nearby cellar. “Stay here! I will return when it’s safe.”
The child nodded with a sniffle, as Simona rushed to join her pack in town, the roles reversed as the Blackhound Mercs now had to fight their way out of the center.
While the second wave of Scourge wasn’t as large as the first, it was bolstered by the risen guards of Ambermill, and no explosions to distract or disrupt.
Swords again clashed, as the pack battled back the undead horde, primal fury filled the Worgen as they now fought to avenge their fallen sibling. Snarls, cries, and howls filled the air as neither side gave an inch.
Skeletons were smashed, zombies and ghouls were hacked and slashed. What started as a conventional battle with swords and shields devolved into a flurry of fur and fangs snapping at anything in reach. Razor claws ripping through flesh and bone.
The aftermath a gruesome scene, with two more Worgen laid on a pyre with their fallen sister. Cremated alongside the handful of humans who had yet to be revived. The fire signaling the end of the conflict, and illuminating the now blackened night sky.
The Blackhound Mercenaries sat scattered around the fire, silently mourning their fallen siblings. Krystal sitting in Simona’s lap. While a naive young girl, she wasn’t stupid and knew what this ritual meant, tears running down the girls face as she mourned her mother.
“It’s all my fault…” Krystal whispered tearfully. “I was out in the woods, trying to meet a Worgen, when I should’ve helped Momma pack!”
Simona hummed thoughtfully before speaking. “My dear. I don’t believe you could have done better. I only found you because your mother asked me to.”
Krystal looked up at Simona questioningly. “Momma asked?”
Simona nodded. “Indeed dear one. She knew it would be the only way. Such was her love for you, that in her final moments, she trusted your judgement.”
Krystal puffed out her chest in pride, before seeming faltering again. “But, what happens now? What am I gonna do?”
Simona embraced the girl, holding her close as she nuzzled her hair. “I intend to honor your mother’s final request. Our pack has already accepted you. Now, you just need our gift.”
Krystal giggled, relaxing in the Worgen’s warm matronly embrace.
“Close your eyes my dear, and allow me to show you a life where you needn’t know such fear. Allow the blessing of the Blackhound to make this night a distant memory for you…”
Dawn was approaching at the end of a long night. Valron Flarehide had returned to his makeshift base at Valgan’s Field. All the warlock had to do now was wait, and not for much longer.
A shuffle outside, the door creaking open, and a tall figure approaching through the shadows. Valron smirked and spoke with a wave of his arms. “Welcome! I take it the mission was a success?”
The elf rested his head in his hand, and Simona appeared before him. “With some unforeseen difficulty Warlock.”
“Mmm yes, about that! I’m certain by now you noticed that the Taliman I sent you to find was not, in fact, responsible for the Scourge incursion.” The elf smirked as he continued. “But, you have to admit! The thought provided quite the sense of urgency, yes?”
Simona nodded and cracked her neck. “Yes…And a sense that three of my daughters died achieving nothing in the process. I’d actually go as far as to say you lied about the nature of this mission to get it done quick, with less money given on your end.”
Valron fidgeted slightly, tugging as his collar before speaking again. “Come now! Five hundred gold pieces is more than a fair price for…”
“Liberation of a Scourge summoning talisman, potentially saving countless lives. What actually happened, was the recovery of a useless trinket, and the notion that my family had been cheated!”
Valron’s lips curled in a sneer. “Your family? Blackhound? Is nothing but a group of children you kidnapped, turned, and brainwashed into calling you mother! You’re lucky I’d even bother with such an unsavory group, much less at such an absurd cost!”
“Oh yes…Speaking of which, my newest daughter has your talisman.” Simona smiled and gestured to Krystal who stepped forward, a bright smile on her face. No longer a human, but a white furred Worgen.
“You just proved my point, canine!” Valron hissed at Simona, before extending his hand to Krystal. “Hand it over…Pup!”
Krystal giggled and stepped forward, Valron failing to notice the knife held behind the girls back…
It would be weeks before anyone found his remains, and with such dangers as the Scourge abound, no one who would be the wiser.
True to her words, Simona helped Krystal forget about her past, the memories, as lost as her human form. The talisman Valron sought, taken and discarded in an old Murloc infested cave.
The Blackhound Mercs took over two thousand gold from a hidden stash Valron had, and gained even more by auctioning off the Warlock’s other possessions. With their bellies set to be full for a good time, Simona and her pack settled down to give Krystal a proper upbringing.
The girl joining in their activities, and never once looking back…