The last watch (Gilneas)

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Fantasy  |  House: Booksie Classic
My first work :) abit long i know, i will work on a second if the feedback is good! :D let me know, comment and read, ill do the same! :D

Submitted: January 08, 2012

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Submitted: January 08, 2012



The Last WatchBrendon Sample

Rain drops splashed off the armor of the forward watch men, pounding like tiny hammers then rolling down to the mud. They stood in front of the huge city walls, squinting through the rain and nervously grasping the end of their arrows. They stood in front of the large doors, the only entrance into Stormwind, guarding with their lives.

They watched as a large dark figure strides unnaturally toward them. his heavy plate armor clicking with every steady step. He held a large shield, so large it would of unbalanced even the largest of me, yet, he moved as if he wore none. As they watched the man with deep blue glowing eyes get closer, the sergeant readied the men to open fire with their arrows.

On her horse she rode up about twenty paces from the armed stranger and drew her sword with a thin ringing sound that echoed off the city walls, “Stop! or ill stop you!” she commanded. The man kept his pace. As he got closer she noticed the blue key on his chest plate, relief flooded across her face, Jumping down from her horse, she ran up to the man, “By the light, what news!? What news of Gilneas?!” she shouted, demanding an answer. He raised his deep gravely voice so it echoed off the walls and all the men could hear it, “We have lost the city of Gilneas”.

The fall of Gilneas.

A large scale battle was going on in front of the city walls of Gilneas. The sound of clashing metal and breaking bones were the only things you could hear. “don’t die! stay alive! we don’t need you dying and coming back as one of these wretched undead!”, Laslow yelled out to his men.

This continued all day, one of the longer battles Gilneas has seen since the begging of the seize ten years ago. God, they only get more and more persistent, Laslow thought to himself as he watched men slay and be slain.

The waves of the undead army had stopped for the day, Laslow waited to give his men the order they have been waiting for all day, the order to go home. Once Laslow noticed it was safe and no more undead were streaming from the hill far off, he dismissed them with a nod.

Laslow followed along with the crowd of watchmen into the city walls. He went straight to where he goes everyday after the fights, the fountain. Gilneas has always been known for their beautiful fountains, but the true beauty hides under the fountains.

A long labyrinth of copper pipes and rods. The pipes and rods were used to take gas to lanterns that lit the streets with warm glow at night. And the rest were used to keep water flowing in the city, their great canals that flowed right into the ocean off the coast.

Laslow stripped off his armor with one swift movement along with the shield until he was just in he leather under body covered with grease to keep the metal from rubbing. “well my wife will be delighted to know i’m home early tonight”, he said to the woman standing next to him, going through her routines as well. With a smirk he started to wash off his plate and shield.

The blue blood comes off easy enough, the dust from broken bones mixed with sweat to create a type of paste that sticks to armor like glue. He scraped it all off and stepped out of the fountain, leaving his armor behind. He left wet foot prints on the cobble stone road as he walked toward the town restaurant.

A large boat like building that bobbed and tilted on one of Gilneas’ many canals. Once on the boat, you can see a wildly swinging sign that read “Pasco’s Restaurant”. Laslow sat at one of the wooden tables lit by a lantern.

The night was a full moon, but it was too dark, Loslow wondered why the city’s lanterns hadn't been turned on yet. “The usual sir?” asked Blorm, the same waiter every time he came to this dark dingy place. “Of course Blorm, make sure Garrosh cooks the meat right this time, my stomach hurt for a week the last time i ate the steak. i thought i had caught the plague!”, they both chuckled. “I’ll be sure to put the word in sir.” With a gentle smile and nod, Blorm was off.

As Laslow waited for the food to return, he saw his old friend Zed, he was doing what he always does, gamble. He walked up to where Zed was fixed at the table, ignoring the new face next to his friend, throwing him off because he was new. “I see you still have that old deck of card”, joked Loslow, “of course, works every time, care for a go?” Zed said, a slight chuckle came from the both of them, an inside joke that has been made many times before, knowing that the deck of cards were only half and rigged to win. But something was different this time, “who is your friend?”, Laslow asked, not used to seeing the likes of a Troll in the midsts of Gilneas.

In a city of almost a thousand, a light blue skinned, seven foot tall Troll with tusks that jutted out from his bottom jaw like daggers, kind of sticks out.  “He wont say his name, but he calls himself the fortune teller”. Intrigued by this, a look of delight came across Laslow’s face, Troll shamans are known for their extremely precise fortune telling.

The troll must of known that Laslow was interested, “I’ve been waiting for you Laslow”, the shaman said with his strange Trollish accent. “Lord Greymane has sent me.” Laslow sat down, never letting his gaze leave the troll. The shaman smiled and pulled out a small leather bag. He opened it and reveled the contents, small dragon knuckles. The Troll tossed them, they skipped and scattered, twisting and turning from their rounded corners and pointed edges. The bones skidded to a halt in the middle of the table, but in the dim light a smaller bone fell off the table. Zed jerked to catch it, but it had already slipped through the floorboard below their feet.

Laslow saw Zed roll his eyes, but the troll didn't notice, Instead he was fixed on the bones on the table. While some of the bones were still their dark dull black color, two of them were burning from inside with a dark red glow. Both of the bones projected two symbols, a red skull, and a flickering red fire.

The troll scooped up the ones that did not light up, and held them. He then picked up the two with symbols on them and threw them again and saw that they made the same symbols, red skull, red fire.

The troll picked up the remaining bones. He slid the ones that did not light up toward Laslow, “Roll”, he demanded. “why?”, Loslow asked, “your king Greymane has sent me to tell your future, and then report to him to tell him the results, now, roll.” A confused look came across Laslow’s face, he shrugged, then tossed the remaining bones they skipped across the table and came to a stop once again. They glimmered and shined. Even Zed, who didn't believe in the stuff was interested in what the results would be.

They watched the bone as it shone different colors, as if it was deciding on what to choose. Now, one of the bones had changed colors and glowed with an eerie blue color, Laslow had seen the color before, he saw them in the eyes of the undead before cutting them down. The glowing symbols had changed too, the blue rune, had changed to an image of a sword, the red rune showed an image of a shield.

The troll frowned and shoved the bones to Zed, he threw them, only one lit up. An image of a skull with a blue background. The troll hissed again. “No green runes, but it will have to do”, said the troll with a hint of disappointment in his voice. The troll then reached into a large pocket of his leather jacket and pulled out a piece of paper, creased and worn on the edges. “Take this, it is enchanted with directions, guard it with your life. Take it to one of the kingdoms, if there are any left. This will also let you find the Gilneain fleet.” “Were not hopeful for any of the small kingdoms, but Stormwind might still be unscathed.”

Laslow absorbed all the information like a sponge, clinging onto every last word. Laslow still held onto the words, “Gilneain fleet”, the massive array of ships that had come to pick up refugees and civilians, leaving only the last watch, that was ten years ago, since then they had been holding off the endless undead, day after day, holding out the last city Lord Greymane had, Gilneas.

“Why me?”, said laslow. “Because, according to the runes, you might not die tomorrow”. “Might not?”, asked Laslow. “Well, the blue means ever living, but the skull really does mean death”, “nobody has ever rolled a blue skull before, how can you be ever living if your dead?”. Laslow huffed at the sadness of the thought. “What does the sword mean? and the shield too”. “Theres many meanings”, the troll said, “the shield, can mean protection, or cowardliness. The sword can mean bravery, or recklessness.”

Laslow hung his head in thought on the words the troll had spoken. “What about mine? what does mine mean?”, asked Zed. “You rolled the same as Laslow, blue skull”. “Hm, well i don’t plan on dying tomorrow, i guess we will have to see what happens”, said Zed leaning back in his chair and scratching his thick red beard. “I guess so...”, said Laslow, fear in his heart. “Well,” exclaimed the troll, standing up and stretching. “I have reports for the king i must give”. “I’ll be off now, god speed my friends”. And like that he was gone.

Just in time too, Blorm brought over Laslow’s food. “We will worry about it tomorrow Laslow, for now, lets eat. Besides, how do we know he isn’t some crazy troll from god knows where?”, Trying to comfort Laslow. “Yes, but why would the king send him if he doesn’t know what he is doing?”. Zed leaned in and put a hand on Laslow’s shoulder. “Tomorrow my friend, tomorrow. For now, let’s eat”.

Laslow was awoken to a loud bell. It was soft at first, it hadn’t been used in such a long time. It quickly picked up speed and volume. He turned to see his wife laying next to him, a feeling of tranquility washed over him, seeing her face so calm, he wished the moment could last forever.

Then Laslow realized what the bells meant, the undead had broken through the walls. as if sensing his quickened heart beat Camasade opened her eyes, then the door bursted open. Zed charged in, full plate armor and massive shield hardly fitting in the door frame. “Hurry up!” pointing at Camasade, “get her to the keep!”.

The keep was the last refuge for the civilians, and would serve as a temporary defense if the undead had broken through the walls. However, Laslow knew that the men trying to defend it would not hold out for long. “I’ll be at the fountains”, Zed said as he vanished from the door.

Laslow leapt up immediately and started putting on leathers and under gear, he used the grease one his legs knees shoulders and chest, to insure every plate locked in the right way. He rubbed it on the leather and plate armor, something that normally took an hour and a half, but there was no time.

He had begun to leave when Camasade had put an arm in front of him, “don’t forget the scroll, take it, its more important then us”. Laslow nodded, then darted from the room, down the stairs and out onto the street where the fountains were. Zed came running up to him. Laslow had finished putting his large shield on his back. They looked at each other and jogged to the walls.

Laslow had never seen the city this busy before in ten years. Men, women and children carrying weapons and armor, sleeves of arrows. Through all of the rushing, Laslow noticed Lord Greymane in full shining armor with Garrosh, the restaurant owner.
He watched as they both opened up two large metal doors and disappeared under the fountains.

Laslow could see the gravity of the situation. On top of the walls left and right, Laslow saw watchmen try to fight back clawed undead trying to fight them back down, but it was a losing battle. The few remaining defenders shoved with shields throwing the creatures from the walls.

Laslow heard Zed gasp at his side, a tall man was standing in the middle of the wall. A huge blue glowing sword swung by his side. The figure was swayed in blue, black plate, heavily embellished with runes and symbols. As Laslow watched, the man pulled off his helm, releasing long white hair that fell to his shoulders. A slight wind blew his hair from his face to reveal striking features, slightly large nose, high cheek bones, light pale skin, eyes that glowed blue from within. That same accursed blue that Laslow saw everyday in the battles before he strike down a wretched undead.

At the feet of the white haired man were crumpled corpses, armor slicked with blood. Laslow recognized each one of them, a tightness gripped his chest, a growing feeling of fury mixed with fear burning within him. As Laslow and Zed joined with the thirty or fifty watchmen struggling to protect the barricades that were being made under the walls.

The undead horde quickly drew back, silence captured them. It was the first time the watchmen had seen the commander of the enemy that assaulted them in ten years, and he had broken through the wall in just a matter of minutes with his presence. A crisp raspy voice rang out from the Gilnean lines, Laslow turned to see Lord Greymane Standing in front of the troops. His silver armor with the symbol of the blue key glimmering brightly in the morning sun.

“I am Gen Greymane, lord of Gilneas.” The white haired man stood there. Greymane repeated himself, his voice growing and commanding with confidence. “For ten years you have assaulted our city but you will never take the jewel-”. The man with the blue sword suddenly laughed, “Haha”. It echoed with in the city walls and bounced around tremendously, cutting off Greymane’s words.

When he had finished, he spoke in a slow voice, riddled with madness. “i don’t want your pathetic city.” There was silence for a moment. “I have met you once Gen Greymane”. The silence continued while the white haired man spoke. “It was the day you told my father of the wall you were building”. “The wall that bears your name.” Greymane’s eyebrow wrinkled. “Prince Arthas?”.  “Ah”, Arthas breathed slowly, “so you do remember” “you remember how your armies would hide like cowards, forcing us to face the darkness of the undead alone, thats why i am like this today. My sword, Frostmourne is it’s name. Has taught me the ways of the undead, the power of the undead. Now i control the very force of power that destroyed my country and name”.

“You want revenge runt? You are as worthless as your father.” said Greymane. “A fool who is unable to see when he should backdown.” “Not revenge”, said arthas, before sweeping his arm across the city in front of him. “I came here once, my father told me you were strong, a powerful ally. If only you cared for anyone but yourselves. I didn't come here to negotiate with you. I now have the power to take your strength for myself”. Greymane hesitated, “What is it you want?”. “You still do not know? Why do you think the siege has lasted ten years old coward. I could have taken Gilneas on the first day if i had wanted.”

Greymane did not reply. “It was difficult to judge at first. But i made it into a fine art, planning attacks strong enough to challenge your men, but not kill them. Keeping them sharp and stressed, knowing that there is always pressure. always a constant threat strong enough to weed out the weak, the lazy, and the unlucky.” Greymane, still didn't reply. His fists made in anger, color drained from his face. For the first time, Laslow saw the man his true age.

Arthas raised his sword in a slow arch to point at the sky. Its seemed to be made from blue glass. Smoke rolled from the hilt, and out word from the blade. Laslow’s mind spun as memories of near death whipped through his mind. The crumpled bodies around Arthas began to twist and shake, then slowly risen from the ground jerking like puppets. Cracking noises could be heard as broken bones snapped into place behind metal plates and swords in hand.

Laslow looked in horror as he saw some of his best friends with glowing blue eyes, he checked next to him to see Zed standing at the ready with him, waiting to strike, the same fury in his heart as in Laslow’s. “Do you know the true value of a soldier in the last watch old coward?” said arthas, his voice slow and mocking. “Do you really? these soldiers are the finest weapons on Azeroth. Is there any army in the world with training, skill or equipment that matches these men and women.”

Greymane’s face was pale. “Yes, my death knights are mighty, but what if i had a soldier that had fought and killed my death knights with skill. Now, their dead and are in my control.” He raised his hands over the newly made soldiers by his sides. His voice raising with intensity.

“You should be proud Gen Greymane! You and your men will form a new army! the most powerful army Azeroth has ever seen! the last watch will be an unstoppable force to spearhead my conquest to conquer this world and others!” Arthas was shouting now, his voice echoed with fury.

“THERE WILL BE NO MORE HIDING BEHIND YOUR WALLS! YOU WILL DRIVE WHAT REMAINS THIS WORLD OF HUMANITY, AND YOU WILL CLAME THE WORLD IN THE AFTER LIFE IN THE NAME OF THE LICH KING! A wave of undead warriors swarmed into the city. Arthas leapt into the madness following his undead men. A lunatic grin on his lips.

Laslow was faster then usual. His blade and shield flickered with a blur as he struck over and over again at his fellow watchmen. Tears streaming down his face and fury burning in him. He swung and they dodged then struck back with frightening speed.

They were much more skilled then anyone or anything he had ever fought. His fellow men, fighting against him in undead form. It’s like they can still remember my every swing, but cant stop fighting me Laslow thought to himself. Distracted a hard clash hit him from the side. Dazed he laid on the ground, the sun in his eyes, he raised his hand to block the sun and the blade fellowing it. His heart dropped as he noticed it was Hector. The commanding officer right bellow Laslow. Hector raised his sword and mouthed the words “Im so sorry”. Laslow closed his eyes and hoped for a swift death.

Nothing happened. He opened his eyes to see a blade glinting with blue blood on the edges of the sharp blade. The body slipped off and pulled to the side. It was Zed, he reached down and pulled Laslow to his feet. “Till the end my friend”. Laslow nodded, “Till the end.”

Like that they were back into the fight. Zed moved a step behind Laslow, elegantly moving his blade, like a butterfly catcher with a net, striking down his enemies. An undead watchmen lunged at Laslow, pausing he noticed it was Captain Notch from the night shift. The pause nearly costed him his life, and he hardly managed to knock her wild blow off to the side. Her sword creating sparks as it scrapped down his armor.

Zed brought down his sword to her helm that brought her down hard, and finished her off. As she slumped to the ground, Laslow began to wonder if she would be revived again. Sought to fight for the Lich King, to die over and over again in his service for all for eternity. Would he and Zed share the same fate if they fail to repel the dead?

The onslaught resumed as they swung and swung, blocking and shredding their own men whom they had just fought beside only hours ago. Laslow looked off to his right and saw Greymane trading off blows with Arthas, It did not look good for Greymane, being pummeled by the white haired prince. Greymane blocked and dodged with the skill of a man fifty years younger. But watchmen were falling all around, only to be revived by Arthas’ black magic and raise their sword at their fellow men.

Laslow could see that the barricade would not hold much longer. A feeling of dread washed over him. Suddenly, “Laslow! Over here!” he stepped out of the line to see Greymane bent over and panting against the hilt of his sword, holding his knees. Arthas had fallen back behind the lines of undead. A dint clearly visible in his helm.

“I only gave him a light tap. You need to go and find Garrosh, tell him to be ready. Ill Finnish off this idiot child.”, commanded the old King. Laslow paused, trying to figure out what Garrosh the old restaurant owner could do. He just owns a floating restaurant.

“Go, before you give the old man anything else to worry about”, said Zed. Laslow nodded at his friend and ran toward the city. He only took a couple minutes to reach Pasco’s restaurant, It looked odd not seeing any of his old friends inside. He then remembered how many were dead, he shoved off that thought and ran to find Garrosh.

Garrosh was searching through cabinets when he found him, Laslow sighed at the sight of his good friend. “Lord Greymane sent me, he said to be ready. What do you have planned?”. “Ah ha!” said Garrosh, lifting a big blue key made from some strange metals. It had a striking similarity to the key on the chest plate of all the men from the last watch.

“I knew it was in here somewhere, quick we must-”. Garrosh’s words were cut short by a blade that sprouted from his chest, soon followed by blood that soaked his white linen shirt. The blade withdrew and behind it was the troll that had told his future, his eyes glowing a bright blue. Laslow lunged and shouted at the top of his lungs and thrusted his sword deep into the chest of the tall troll.  Meeting the trolls eyes with his, gritting his teeth. He pushed the blade until his hilt hit his chest and went no further. He put his boot to his chest and pushed him off his blade, his body hit the wood floor with a loud thud.

He looked at Garrosh, his friend’s dead hands still gripping the blue key. As e reached down to pull the key from Garrosh’s hands he noticed something, a bight green glow between the floorboard. He reached down and grabbed the trapped item. It was the dragon bone, and it was green, with an unmistakeable symbol on its surface. A ship. Does this mean he was going to make it? A feeling of relief fell over him.

He hurried out of the restaurant, a new confidence filling him. He ran straight into his friend Zed, he was sloped and covered in blood, his eyes ran a deep blue color. Before Laslow could react, the big man hammered him with his shield knocking him to the ground and flashing his sword down. Laslow jerked his head to the side, avoiding the mighty blow that shattered the stone road beneath them. Leaping to his feet he narrowly dodged two quick blows that nearly got him.

Thoughts flashed through his mind as he faced Zed. His heart burning in pain. Would he get the chance to tell Zed’s wife that her husband is dead? Is Greymane dead too? Is it worth going back? Should he just jump off the city walls and take his chances with the undead army? Then he remembered, Laslow hadn’t rolled the blank rune, he rolled the green rune. Zed was going to live, but die and live forever. Did that mean he was going to break the binds of the Lich King’s power and deliver the scroll to Stormwind, to live on as death knight? Fighting against the Arthas? Zed would live..

Understanding flowed into Laslow’s mind. He dodged another swing from Zed and lifted his shield and slammed it into his friend. The sharpened top edge caught Zed right on the nose, breaking it with a loud crunch. Zed toppled onto Laslow and Laslow grabbed him and dragged him into the floating restaurant, and put him in the big metal storage room. He tossed the troll’s body off and Garrosh’s too. It hurt him. But he didn't want Zed getting hurt, if he were to ever break the bond between him and the Lich king.

The fighting had spread into the city now, and those who can defend themselves were doing so. Screams of the wounded or dying echoed through the crisp morning air. He found Greymane fighting, blade to blade against Arthas once again at the great fountain, a small crowd of watchmen stood around him, protecting him against the ever growing circle of undead. Laslow sliced and hacked his way to his king.

The old man had lost his helm and shield, parrying and striking with such force it struck fear even into Arthas’ eyes. “Lord! i have the key!”. “Good boy” said Greymane through gritted teeth, now get down there and do it!”. He realized that the old man was standing next to the metal hatch. Greymane stuck his sword out and struck with great force and pushed the prince back so Laslow could get to the hatch and lift it open, he did so.

He slipped inside, the smell of gas hit him like a wall. Choking him and stopping him in his tracks. He found the room so many men where complaining about, having to take heavy leavers, valves and pipes.  A wall of complicated valves and wheels lined the far wall. He turned all of them to the left, and heard a loud whistling coming from the pipes. He realized it was a pressure alarm. He understood now why the gas lanterns had not been lit last night, and why the water levels in the canals were so low. Garrosh and Greymane had turned the valve all the way to the left. The city was a ticking time bomb. Just waiting for a trigger. at the end of the row was a metallic box covered and a blue paint that matched the key. It had a large keyhole. Laslow smashed the box and put the key in. Turned the key, The explosion blossomed like a rose, a title wave of flame bursted in all directions. Flagstones where blown up, catapulting men monsters and buildings into the air. Gilneas will NEVER allow their country to fall into the wrong hands.


Somewhere in the western ocean.

The old restaurant floated on the ocean surface. Flames licking at it, parts were falling off. The large metal door swung open and Zed emerged from it. “Hey! he is awake!”, a small green goblin about three feet tall with ears almost as long as she was. Another one emerged from the side of the floating restaurant, He seemed friendly until he noticed Zed’s deep blue glowing eyes. “Ah! your one of them!” the male goblin screamed and ran away from him. The female one seemed more calm and willing. “We thought you were dead friend”. “Hm, i felt like i was”, Zed said with a bit of whine in his voice, he noticed his voice was much deeper and seemed to echo off everything. He shoved off the though and attempted to stand up. He noticed he was on the water. Zed sighed. “Damn, not again.”. Zed reached into his pocket and noticed there was a piece of paper. The scroll that was given to Laslow. He was to deliver it to Stormwind. Zed turned and saw himself in the mirror, deep blue glowing eyes. His watchmen armor still on. Blood stained and blue. He seemed more muscular. He felt hatred of himelf flow through him. Fighting every fiber of his being to thrust his sword into his chest. He remembered nothing more then his death. “My god... did i kill Laslow and take the scroll to deliver to Arthas. What did i tell him!!” He was thinking out loud, the small goblins looking at him. “Can you take me to Stormwind?”. The goblins looked at each other, then nodded.

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