A Typical Bar Outing

The sun was setting over Quel'Thalas, both literally and symbolically. In the distance, roaring fires consumed parts of Silvermoon City, the once mighty spires there crumbling in the city's center as the enemy army laid waste to every living thing in its path. 

On the outskirts of the city, the beleaguered survivors fought on, desperate to break free of the endless tides of undead that washed over them. It was a rout, and yet they could not afford to turn and run lest the few remaining civilians trapped amongst them perish as well. And so they fought, block by bitter block, through burning homes and down avenues filled with makeshift blockades and choked with the bodies of the dead, and still the undead came on, relentless in their quest to exterminate all life.

Novae fought amongst those who were withdrawing, her weapon a spear that she'd managed to snatch up from a fallen spell breaker. Around her other defenders fought with blade and spell, each in their own way and none of them organized as an army might be. The time for organized resistance was far past. 

For a moment, the fighting paused, a lull in the constant death that allowed more of the survivors to slip away from the lines, to flee for their lives. Novae stayed where she was, stayed with those few who were brave enough to face not only death, but enslavement in undeath as well. Without their stand, there would be no survivors at all.

The undead came again, a black mass of rotted corpses and festering abominations that had no end. Wearily the defenders brought their weapons up and felled more of the creatures, each minute taking the lives of more of those who remained.

It was Novae's first, and likely last, battle. Trained from a young age by her father, she fought bitterly, feeling a rage building within her. She focused entirely on the task at hand, mechanically cutting down a zombie here, or crushing the bones of a skeletal warrior there, trying not to recall the fact that it was highly likely that everyone she ever knew or loved now walked amongst the armies of the enemy.

The rage grew, and so too did the power of her swings. Now a skeleton crumbled to dust as the flat of her spear smacked it apart. Here a zombie's head was detached by the razor sharp edge, Novae's warcries echoing over the groaning of the undead hordes. Around her, the other defenders took heart, their blows falling true and driving back the undead, their little cluster of defiance buying precious time for those behind them.

But it was not to be; Quel'Thalas was doomed and their efforts only delayed the inevitable. A mass of skeletal archers gathered in the distance, their hollow bones rattling as they took up position and drew necromantically created bowstrings back. In that final moment, many of the defenders broke and fled, knowing they would be cut down by the deluge of arrows.

Novae stood atop a mound of corpses, roaring defiantly at the undead horde, her weapon raised high. If they fled, they would only be struck in the back with arrows, their shame visible for all eternity as they roamed as mindless undead. It was little consolation, but at least she would stand firm until the end.

The archers let loose their deadly ammunition, the shafts flying up into the sky and darkening the last rays of sunlight that sparkled across a dying land. In her final moment, Novae stared at the sun, drinking in the last taste of life as death rained down upon her. And then everything went black.

*********************************************

Novae jerked and gasped as she came back to reality, shaking off the terrible memory after a moment. She looked around the bar of the Wayfarer's Inn to see if anyone had noticed her sudden motion before reaching out to grab the shot glass in front of her. In one smooth motion she downed the potent drink, her third for the evening, enjoying the warm feeling of it in the pit of her stomach and the pleasant way the room tilted for a moment before righting itself.

She was off duty for the evening, which meant that she could do as she pleased and what she most pleased was to get roaring drunk. She'd had a good campaign, and had lead the Blood Knights of House Sunfire well. The group had earned much honor in the battle, and she was satisfied with a task well done. A little celebration was in order, both at the tavern and later back at the estate in Eversong Woods. Novae was an opportunist with such things whenever possible.

As she was about to ask the bartender for another round, she felt an elbow collide with her back rather abruptly, bumping her forward. She glared as she turned her head, seeing three Sin'dorei walking along the row of barstools. They came up to a patron sitting beside her and roughly shoved him from his chair, laughing as the drunken elf tumbled to the floor. The elf that had bumped Novae settled into the seat, while what she assumed were his goons settled into positions on either side of him, leaning against the bar. He shifted in position, about to order a drink, when Novae's eyes caught on something at his collar.

A House Dawnsea Captain's rank pin.

Novae's eyes nearly dilated as her stare bore into the shiny piece of metal. Within, she could feel the engines of her rage slowly igniting and beginning to churn, the beast that she kept within her starting to strain against its restraints. With a grin on her face, she rose from her barstool, walking unsteadily towards the three elves and nudging one of the goons out of the way.

Staring down at the Captain, she grinned, shaking her head, "Don't have too many manners, do you? It's a shame what kind of trash Dawnsea is elevating through the ranks these days."

The elf she had addressed blinked in shock, his eyebrows shooting up so far that Novae nearly laughed right in his face. He rose slowly, deliberately taking on a threatening stance. He was slightly taller than her, and he scowled down at her, "What did you just say, wench?"

Novae grinned, her stare meeting his without fear, "Ears don't work too well either, eh? Pretty sad state of affairs for that House of yours."

Around her the other patrons shifted uncomfortably, sensing the growing tension. The Dawnsea Captain's goons also shifted, moving away from the bar in case they had to intervene. For a moment there was a tense silence between the two before the Captain abruptly brought his hand up and backhanded Novae hard across the face. Her head rocked, her short black hair whipping around and hiding her face from view for a moment as she bowed her head.

Blood dripped from a cut on her lip. She could feel it, taste it as she ran her tongue across the cut. The coppery taste was like lighter fluid sprayed over a fire, her entire body warming to the sensory input and the stinging pain that came with it. She shivered once, a smile breaking out as she licked the blood again, her head tilting up so she could stare at the captain with one eye through the hair hanging over her face, "Baby, if you wanted to play you should have just asked in the first place. You're a fine piece of meat but I hope you know what you're getting yourself into."

The other elf looked scandalized for a moment and abruptly brought his hand up to strike Novae again. This time however, he was far too slow as her right hand whipped a bottle up from the bar and brought the glass object rather forcefully down on his skull. The glass shattered and the Sin'dorei's eyes began to roll up in his head as he slid towards the floor. It happened so fast that his two goons didn't even have time to comprehend that a fight had broken out.

As the elf fell to the floor, Novae grinned down over him, her voice a husky whisper, "That's right, on your knees now if you want to play rough."

A second later a patron behind Novae grinned and hopped up on his barstool, his drunken voice echoing through the room, "BAAAAAAAAR FIIIIIIIIIIIIIIGHT!"

Pandemonium broke out as patrons sprang to their feet. Several struck out at each other, House conflicts broiling over in a second into physical confrontation. Behind Novae, one of the goons grabbed her by her hips and tried to hoist her into the air to throw her, even as the first goon charged over his unconscious boss and right into her kicking boots.

Struck in the face, the first goon collided abruptly with Novae, his weight knocking her backwards and adding to her own weight to overbalance the Sin'dorei that had tried to lift her up. With Novae's thrilled laughter echoing out as they fell, the three tumbled to the floor, barstools flying overhead as some of the patrons began to launch projectiles at each other.

In the tangled mass of bodies on the floor, the two Sin'dorei began attempting to punch Novae, even as she used her boots to brutally kick one of them in his crotch. She laughed again, rolling on top of one of her victims as the other pummeled her with blows to the side, her drunken stupor making her ignore what would probably be a number of serious bruises in the morning, "You guys are actually pretty fun. It's a shame I'm going to have to break your faces."

The elf beneath her attempted to squirm free and Novae cheerfully started punching him in his face over and over, completely ignoring the other goon who had elected to stop punching her in favor of getting to his feet to grab her neck. So enraptured was she by the sight of the elf's blood on her knuckles that she didn't notice her second opponent's moves until he had an arm around her neck.

He tipped his weight over on her, driving her off her victim and slamming her face into the bar floor. Around her she could see other elves engaged in a general melee, the bar fight having spread to all corners of the bar now. The noise was almost enough to drown out the ringing in her ear from where her head had contacted the floor.

"I'll teach you a lesson, bitch!" the Sin'dorei pinning Novae growled. She merely grinned as he attempted to grasp at the hair on her head to slam her head into the floor again. As he gained a grip, she delicately and gently guided her head towards his thigh, her teeth sinking into the flesh beneath the fabric.

He howled, rolling back off her as she rose up with a grin on her face. Above him now as he grasped at his wounded leg, she brought her boot down on his stomach and then proceeded to kick him over and over, enjoying the sound of her foot contacting his flesh.

"I've really learned so much from you," Novae mocked as she kicked him. "Thank you so much for the lesson!"

She had to duck as a glass bottle hurtled through the air, shattering on a table behind her. Now that the three elves were practically comatose on the floor, her fight was over and she realized the escalating brawl was going to draw attention soon. She scanned the crowd and quickly caught the eye of one of the other House Sunfire soldiers that had been out drinking in the tavern. He gave her a nod before wading into the crowd to gather up the rest of Kyliska's men.

As a group they pushed their way through the fist-fighting patrons, making their way out of a back exit just as the city's Blood Knights burst in through the front entrance and began clubbing unruly drunks into submission to bring order to the chaos. Outside in the red and gold plaza beyond the inn, Novae and her men grinned and laughed, each recounting their tales of fighting within the tavern.

Novae looked back at the dark opening of the tavern and grinned, her split lip dripping more blood before she wiped it away with the back of her hand. It was always good to come home after a rough campaign, but even better was beating the snot out of her House's enemies when one was looking for a good time or to forget bad times.