World of Warcraft®

A few years before the fall of the Lich king, in the dark corridors of Naxxramas, the Lich Kings minions moaned and groaned as they worked endlessly for their master. The shouts from Deathknights as they barked orders to the simple ghouls, echoed against the cold stones of the floating Citadel. A lich silently made its way to a small chamber in the Construct Quarter where a small creature growled at it from the creature’s cage. The creature was small and dog like in its movements but its rotting appearance made it gruesome and terrifying to look at.

She did not know where she had come from, or how long she had been in the cage, but she knew one thing; that this was not a place she wanted to be. She growled and barked as the Lich moved closer to her and in an eerie voice, the lich spoke to her. “Still in control of yourself hmm? Do not resist the Master’s voice….his will…is your…will…” The Lich’s words were only met with a claw attack at the cage and more barking. The Lich merely moved to the side of the cage, and grabbed a strange rod. The tip of the rod began to spark…and the creature whimpered and howled at the rod entered the cage….

The creature then leaped at the Lich as he opened the cage, slashing and clawing at its skull. The Lich grunted in surprised, and backed up too far, falling off the ledge into a pit of undead goop. The creature watched the Lich fall, before turning and dashing to the exit. She did not know where she was, but she was not going to stay here any longer. The howls of an alarm echoed around the Citadel, and metal boots and rotting screeches soon followed behind the little creature as she dashed for the exit. She managed to make it to a balcony overlooking the frozen wasteland below. The noises increased, and the little creature jumped off the balcony, falling to the snow covered ground below as gargoyles screeched in frustration.

After a few moments, the little creature popped her head up out of the snow, an tongue hanging out in glee at her escape. She looked up and could hear the sounds of frustrated Scourge above her. She pulls her body out of the snow, and made a dash for the frozen forest to the west. She carefully avoids the occasional hunting parties of Scourge, and hunted small animals when she felt the need to eat. She was just about to eat a small rodent, when she heard the sounds of strange shouting. The shouting was not like the Scourge shouts, so she carefully made her way towards the sounds. As a clearing came into view, she carefully hides under a bush as she smelled something familiar...blood. Before her was a small band of brutish green and brown creatures, (she later learned that these are called Orcs) surrounding one that looked like them, and many bodies of blue, horned humanoid creatures ( later learning these are called Draenei )that did not appear to be moving. The creature watched as the lone Orc held up his ax against the others. She realized that he was covered in blood, and from the looks of it, it was his own. The creature watched at the lone Orc became under attack by his own kind, and she leapt from her hiding spot, and clawed at the closest Orc who shrieked in surprised. The lone Orc took it as a chance to hit one of the other Orcs with the back of his ax, and he and the little creature made a dash for the deep woods.

They ran until they were in a valley of a ravine, before the Orc collapsed against the walls of the ravine. The little creature watches behind them to make sure they are safe, before slowly walking to the dying Orc. She carefully watches the Orc, who lays silently for a few moments, clearly trying to catch his final breaths before he spoke to her. “You…are not like the other undead…little pup…So...i…will…trust you with…my…final…wish..” The creature did not know how she understood him, but she moved closer to him as he spoke more. “Please….keep…my…lifemate…safe….if…you…ever…meet…her…she…is like the Draenei…you…saw just before…you…helped…me…..keep…her…happy….” The Orc’s head slowly slumped forward, and the little creature gently pawed at him, before whimpering and giving a howl.

One year ago.

The little creature walked through her part of the forest, looking for her next meal, when she heard the familiar sounds of running. The little creature carefully moves towards the sounds of running, and soon sees a female Draenei in the distance. She carefully follows after the woman, right into the heart of the Dragon blight. The creature watches carefully, and soon feels a familiar hand on her back. She looks up, to see a smiling ghost Orc, before he vanishes. The little creature lets a tongue out happily as she turns back to the woman, who was now kneeling in the snow, crying. The little creature went to slowly move closer, when she smelt the familiar scent of a ghoul. The ghoul closed in on the crying woman, who looked up in terror, letting out a scream. The little creature dashed with all her might, and leapt at the ghoul with such force that its neck snapped, and it fell to the ground dead for a second time. The little creature turned with a tongue hanging out and wagged her tail as the woman looked at it with shock. The Draenei woman then smiled at the little creature, and opened her arms out to it. The little creature moved into the woman’s arms, and the woman grinned at the little creature. ‘I...thank you little one. You saved my life…a strange behavior for a creature such as you…Would… you like to come with me?” The little creature barked happily as the woman stood to her hooves…..

“Precious! Keep up!” Jataa called out to the little creature, on the canal walkways of Stormwind. Precious shook her head out of the daydream she was having of the time before she met Jataa and let out a bark towards her dear friend, and the nice Human Paladin who had grown close to her friend. She did not know where she had come from, but Precious knew now where she belonged as she dashed after Jataa and Caytamar.

((Anyone is welcomed to add their own post about how their character reacts and feels about precious! I would love to reed them! have fun!))

Tom sat alone at Hearthglen's banquet table, absentmindedly picking at a bowl of stew. He heard raspy barking and footfalls from outside, just before Jataa's undead pup rounded the corner into the dining hall. The Draenei must not be far behind. The pup, Precious, is rarely out of her sight. It approaches the table and stares up at the mage beseechingly. "Gah, alright. Stew's cold anyway." He fishes the remaining chunks of beef out of the bowl and tosses them to the pup. It gobbles them up greedily, then looks up for more. Precious' beedy, black eyes seem to hold altogether too much knowledge for that type of creature. When Tom first set eyes on the beast, his first instinct had been to kill it with fire. Fortunately, Jataa didn't let him. What a mistake that would have been, for Precious is the lord of all undead puppies, and has been Jataa's friend through many troubles.

The long column neared the end of its journey, and Zephilyn could not be more glad of it. Glad to be rid of the simultaneous tension and boredom, glad to be rid of the road dust, the rain and the mud. The needed supplies for Hearthglen had arrived.

She dismounted her horse at the gate and counted the wagons and guards inside the fortress' walls. As the last wagon wheeled through, she pulled off her helmet and wearily led the tired beast up the paved road to the stable.

A baying howl carried through the courtyard. Down the path out of the keep scampered a small undead dog. Its rotting tail wagging furiously, so furiously Zephilyn thought it might wag itself clean off of the animal. In an instant, her tired frown turned to a smile. She couldn't help but laugh as the little undead dog scampered towards her. Her warhorse chuffed with irritation at the little creature bouncing and howling, but being the well trained beast of war that he was, he held his ground.

Precious excitedly leapt up and pawed at Zephilyn's saddlebags, the scent of the food inside drove the little dog to even greater heights of excitement. The undead dog bounced higher and higher, ichor streaming from its mouth.

She faked a resigned sigh, "Oh alright. Yes, it is clear you are never fed properly. Lucky for you Auntie Zephilyn cares for you." She thumbed open the strap of the bag and produced two salted nightfin fish. Although the paladin would never admit it, she had slipped away from the caravan one eve for the sole purpose of fishing these out of the waters of Baradin Bay for the little dog.

She held one out and the little dog lept and snatched it from her hands, devouring it almost instantly. Zephilyn simpy smiled and shook her head, holding out the other. "I wonder if Lady Jataa knows the lesson you have taught me yes? All things are not always as they look. Come, let us see if we can find your mother. And do not tell her about the fish!" Zephilyn wagged a finger conspiratorially.