Rogues, Scouts, and Thieves
Rogues, Scouts, and Thieves horror stories
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lothirielswan
lothirielswan Love, fortune and glory to you!
Autoplay OFF   •   2 years ago
The night breathed life into everything: it was a corrupt creator. A manipulator of imagination used against the mind. This was the plight of rogues and scouts and thieves.

Source: https://archiveofourown.o...

Rogues, Scouts, and Thieves

I forced myself to my feet. I had gotten into the habit of nightly walks around the grounds: it was good practice for observing the shadows, and it was a vain attempt to tire myself.

The outline of the shrines, simple stone mounds protruding from the earth, seemed to shift before my eyes like people. The trees groaned like someone crying out in pain. The grass whispered death threats.

I stood at the far end of the grounds. The night breathed life into everything: it was a corrupt creator. A manipulator of imagination used against the mind.

This was the plight of rogues and scouts and thieves: we did not face foot soldiers of the enemy. We did not risk conjuring our own demise. We were forced to face the horrors of illusion.

We walked through nightmares. There was no moment of rest, no feeling of "safe." It was all adrenaline. And fear.

We ignored the instincts of human nature and remained in this permanent state of unease.

I trudged through the jungle, using my sense of motion and enhanced sight to navigate. I pretended I was on a scouting mission. It was my job. There was an objective to my quest.

I wasn't just wandering around blindly through the woods, with my sense of reality and sanity deprived by the lack of sun: I had a purpose.

Shit.

My feet abruptly stopped, making tracks in the dirt. That was frowned upon: that was sloppy work. I couldn't help it.

Stars—oh Stars. Stars. I've lost it—I've completely gone insane. Am I dead? Am I about to die?

He stood before me.

He looked the same as he always did--for Azeroth, anyway. The two spiked pauldrons made of two long tusks.

His skin was copper-like, similar to the soils of Nagrand, more lively than the red dirt of Hellfire Peninsula. He was tall, muscled, intimidating to many.

His eyes always reminded me of two stars paired closely together, with their yellow-gold hue, everwatching like the lights in the sky. They used to be kinder-looking. Smoother, almost. Like yellow wildflowers.

Hellscream's eyes are upon you.

"Strider," Garrosh remarked.

My head tilted to the side as I stared. Was he a trick of the night? He looked real enough. Wearing the night as a cloak, adorning two stolen stars from the black sky to stare at me.

"You're here."

"This isn't like home, is it? The air has...more to it. Not dry. Not dead. Not sickening." He said.

There were probably questions I was supposed to ask, but if he was here, that meant I was already dead. I let other details claim my attention. "After everything...I'm shocked you remember that place."

"Our home...it's a cautionary tale. You don't belong here." He said.

Breathing was hard. My lungs rejected the air.

"Neither do you. I don't really know...who you are anymore." I admitted. Garrosh was the only person I knew from that wasteland. My mother refused to leave. My aunt, whom I had suspected many times was going mad with her dark humor, stayed by her side. One or two others could still be alive. Everyone else was a corpse.

"It's not as bad as your instincts claim. I miss home so much...I want to devour it. The entire planet, the decay and the death. It's an unquenchable appetite.

There are times when I fear home, more than once, but it's not bad. When I walk across the desolation, knowing I am not alone, there is this sense of...closeness to myself. I feel everything.

My blood and my skin and my toes. Almost like...I have been consumed by the fel, energized, glowing in the dark. You can not feel anything else like home."

As Garrosh spoke, my gaze dropped to his side. The small plop of blood drops falling from his axe to the earth seemed louder than it should have.

There was a rhythm to the sound, like the tribal music of the trolls but completely different. I didn't like the stain it left on the ground. The blood seemed to spread. Stretching across the ground like a thirsty fog.

"It's not bad, Strider." I looked back up at the two beady stars. There was no emotion in them. "Feels just like home."

Out in the night, somewhere, I heard someone start screaming. It was really loud.

~Author's Note~ Author: Hi, Awesome Adventurers! I hope you enjoyed this chilling moment from my new fanfic, "Pink Rose." Believe it or not, we actually have a lot of love and laughs, but I wanted to share this cool snippet with you guys. This story also involves a romance with Anduin Wrynn, so yay! Hope you enjoyed c: love, fortune and glory to you!!

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