World of Warcraft®

((Decided to practice my storywriting more, "The Battlegrounds" will be a series of short stories which'll take focus on WoW Battlegrounds but in written format. It's one of my personal projects in attempt to bring the chaos that is the Battlegrounds into short stories.))

((Keep in mind, when Der Insane Gottfried write stories. Humor and Insanity are slipped in here and there, also this is purely fan fiction. If you're enraging at certain points, exit is at the upper right hand corner of your screen. In the form of a red cross.))

((Without further ado, here are the first two prologues! What? Why two? Well, one for each faction of course. So you ballzy one-sided faction lovers won't feel left out, eh?))

The Battlegrounds

Main Characters: Champion Isimode and Champion Faesrol

http://www.wowwiki.com/Champion_Isimode

http://www.wowwiki.com/Champion_Faesrol

Alliance

It was crowded.

The halls of Stormwind Keep are decorated in a manner to celebrate and welcome what would seem to be a return ceremony for heroes of the Alliance, guards were busy helping the Keep maids with moving around bulky items and Prince Anduin himself were tended on his ceremonial garb by a few maids.

One of them smiled as she took a string connected to the sleeve of the Prince’s garb. Obviously rushed work, but she knows what to do in situations like this. With one simple snip, she cut off the extra string. Anduin smiled and dismisses the maids as he puffs his chest up for a deep breath and strides into the main hall, where his father is waiting.

Just in time, the revered Alliance heroes arrived. Looking rugged and tattered but still in high spirits upon arrival, the citizens waiting outside the Keep cheered them as they walked tall into the halls. Showering them with flowers, confetti, and other celebration tidbits, the heroes settled down in front of King Varian.

After the pleasantries of greetings and salutes exchanged, King Varian takes a scroll out. Unfolding it and begins to read names of the heroes one by one, asking each name to step forward and personally giving them their honoraries.

Anduin watches the group of heroes, his eyes sparkling at their exploits and veterancy. One hero however, caught his attention as he rarely sees people of this hero’s race often. A High Elf, who’re now numbered in few but still continue their dedication for the Alliance.

The High Elf was finally called forward.

“Champion Isimode Bladesinger.” King Varian boomed out.

“Valor and Distinction in many battlegrounds. Veteran of the Second and Third War, and now the Scourge War. Responsible for many heroic exploits in the recent Northrend Campaign, and forging armors with his peers for heroes and soldiers participating in the assault of Icecrown Citadel. While also taking part in the assault.”

King Varian paused, and boomed out again.

“We award you, Exalted Champion of the Alliance and the Medal of the Lionheart. Along with the rank status of Grand Marshall of the Alliance. Thank you for your services.”

The crowd turned into a thunderous roar, celebrating the newly raised Grand Marshall. Isimode simply smiles and wonder within his mind why the humans bother with medals and awards, but he felt glorious to be recognized.

While he accepts the medal, Prince Anduin couldn’t help but ask Isimode: “How does it feel in the battlefield?!”

Isimode merely replied with a smirk.

“All too easy…”

Horde

In Orgrimmar, the streets of the Orcish Capital were also filled in a similar manner of celebration. Orcs gather in crowds to honor returning warriors while Trolls beat on their ceremonial drums reveling on the spectacle. While not as lavishly decorative as the humans, the spirits of heroic honor are still prevalent among them.

Then their champions entered, and the crowd bellowed into a thunderous roar of triumphant roar upon recognizing their champions. Huge Orcs clad in armor marched into the streets waving back at the crowd, then the Tauren champions followed suit nodding left and right. The Blood Elven champions mingle amongst the line of the other Horde champions.

Despite being the latest addition to the Horde arsenal, they did not fail to impress their Horde allies. Differences and beliefs cast aside as the some of the assembled young eager elves among the champion ranks reveled in the spectacle by shouting the Orcish battlecry “Lok-Tar-O’Gar” to the assembled crowd. Making the crowd even more pumped up.

The champions finally arrived at Grommash Hold, stepping into the halls of the enormous Orcish citadel. Kor’Kron Elites saluted them left and right, recognizing the heroes exploits. The assembled heroes finally arrived in front of the seat of power. Where their respective racial leaders also assembled. Garrosh Hellscream was first to stand forward and give each hero a shoulder pat.

“You’ve done the Horde more than great service, warriors!” beamed Garrosh at the assembled champions. “No matter your race or background, you’re all here for the same thing. Recognition within the Horde for your glorious exploits. Lok-Tar-O’gar, champions! LOK-TAR O’GAR!”

“LOK-TAR-O’GAR!” replied the champions in unison.

Shortly after, the advisor Eitrigg began calling out names one by one. With each of the champion stepping forward and Garrosh personally rewarding them with awards, distinction, and all other ceremonial tidbits.

Eitrigg however, like other Orcs are just accustomed to spelling out Blood Elven names. Upon coming across a name, he raised an eyebrow in attempting to spell it.

“Crap…” He thought to himself. “Why do Blood Elves give themselves names which an Orc can’t spell for what’s worth a worg’s dung?” he thought to himself again, but he HAS to mention honoraries so he gave the spelling his best shot.

“Ch… Champion Faesrol Sunblade! Step Forward!”

Faesrol stepped forward and looked at the orc funny. Thankfully no one can see his emotions well from his full-faceclad Elvish helm. “Did it take that much effort to spell my name?” he thinks to himself. Faesrol’s attention was broken down by a hard slap from Garrosh’s massive arm on his back. Almost knocking the wind out of him.

“Aka’Magosh, Warrior.” Garrosh smiled. “How does it feel to be a hero?”

Faesrol smirks under his helm in return.

“Rolling faces has never been so much more glorious…”