On Guns, Mental Health, and Islamophobia

Hi all,

So, I know I’ve disappeared for a while. Sorry about that. In light of recent events, I felt like I wanted to write some of my thoughts and opinions down in response to…well…basically, my Facebook news feed over the last few days. I will be touching on a lot of topics and may start to ramble at times. I will try to keep it organized. I do not expect this to be particularly well-received. First of all, let me clear that I am not advocating for taking all of your beloved guns away!

Anyway, as you know, the U.S. has recently experienced the most deadly shooting in its history (I’m not here to debate whether or not the genocide of Native Americans should be counted here, so please shut up). The target was a homosexual nightclub in Orlando, perpetrated by a man of Middle Eastern descent born in the United States. There have been reports of ties to ISIS and family ties to the Taliban. Over the course of the incident, he reportedly used an AR-15 rifle to kill ~50 individuals, wounding just as many. This is a man who has been investigated by the FBI and has known connections with terrorist organizations, and yet he was easily able to purchase this gun and sufficient ammo to carry out his attack.

And, just like all the rest, the “debates” started. Honestly, I am getting sick of the merry-go-round. I’m getting sick of everyone arguing the same points, nothing happening, and then going back about our daily lives, waiting for the next shooting so that we can start the process over again. It’s getting very tiresome and the whole thing is ringing very insincere. I want to use this post to address several of the prominent arguments that I have seen and I also want to talk about the very real problem of Islamophobia in this country.

 

First up, GUNS:

Every time something like this happens, it ignites the debate over gun control and gun laws. What I see a lot of (from the news outlets I watch and on Facebook), there seems to be this war between “we need to make it harder to obtain guns” and “they’re trying to take our guns away!” And then, they like to pedal out all sorts of “support” for their arguments. Let me very clear: I abhor guns and I will never voluntarily allow one into my household. If you must know the reason why, I will say that I have my bad days and I’ll let you use your imagination as to what that means.

At the same time, I understand the second amendment is a thing that exists and if you want to own a gun, that’s your business. But, for Christ’s sake, let’s use some common sense here.

So, let me address some of the arguments that come to mind. And these are all things that just are coming to my mind at the time of writing this, not necessarily all of the things that I want to cover.

“The only thing that will stop a bad guy with a gun is a good guy with a gun.”

As a mental health professional, I cannot disagree more with this argument. There are many, many different levels of intervention you can try before resorting to physical intervention. Why do you think police try to talk someone down instead of just shooting them (ideally)? I work with some deeply disturbed people and staff at my facility don’t just tackle a kid at the first sign of violence. That said, physical intervention does become necessary in a minority of cases.

But what about that “good guy with a gun?” What happens when the Bad Guy with a Gun shoots the Good Guy with a Gun? Now we have a Bad Guy with Two Guns. What happens when the Good Guy with a Gun tries to respond to a high-stress, dangerous situation and then shoots someone fleeing the scene because initial impulse is to see that person as a potential threat? Now you’ve got an innocent person gunned down because of poor perception. There is a reason why the police undergo intensive and regular training in emergency crisis response. When was the last time you logged any hours in training in discerning targets? What happens when multiple “Good Guys with Guns” show up at the scene and cannot differentiate between the shooter and each other (since civilians probably do not dress in coordinating uniforms on a day-to-day basis)? Introduce more guns to the equation and you increase the potential for death.

“An armed society is a polite society.”

Is it, though? Are we at the point where the only reason why we should treat each other with respect is out of fear of violence if we do not? An armed society is a paranoid and fearful society, because it believes that danger lurks in every interaction. And let’s add alcohol to the mix. The reality is that people like to drink to excess in this country. And they also make some very stupid decisions sometimes when drinking. Do we want a drunken idiot who is looking to get into a fight to also be carrying a weapon?

“More people die every year from knives and hammers.”

That is, in fact, what the data suggests, yes. But, let’s think about why that might be. Literally almost every household in America contains at least 1 knife and/or hammer. They are common tools used in every-day life that serve important functions other than committing harm (in my mind, a gun’s primary purpose is to commit harm). But, if they’re tools for another purpose, why are they used for violence? I’ve already said it. They’re in EVERY house. They become weapons of opportunity – easily accessible and fairly efficient to that end. I’ve heard people advocating for a gun in every household. If my argument proves correct and knives/hammers have such a high killing rate because of their easy accessibility in moments of extreme anger, what will happen to rates of gun violence when they, too, can so easily become weapons of opportunity?

“More guns equals less gun violence.”

This is an argument that still boggles my mind because it completely defies logic and basic math. Simply stated, as the number of available guns approaches 0, so does the potential for gun violence. If someone threatens to shoot you but you pull out a gun and shoot them first, the amount of gun violence remains unchanged.

“Chicago.”

Yes, Chicago has strict gun laws AND the highest murder rate in the country. I hear this argument rolled out each and every time there’s a shooting. It’s almost as if taking a large population of impoverished, disenfranchised people and forcing them to live in sub-standard conditions in tight proximity is a perfect recipe for violence. But, let’s talk guns. Yes, Chicago has strict gun laws. Do you know what else it has? About a 45 minute drive to Indiana where gun laws are lax, to say the least. Do you know what it doesn’t have? A magical barrier that disarms guns being brought into the city from outside sources obtained easily elsewhere (maybe we should get on that…). Stop treating Chicago like it exists in a frickin’ vacuum.

“Criminals don’t obey the laws, so gun laws will only disarm law-abiding citizens.”

This argument is one of the most frustrating for me because, by its logic, why have ANY laws at all? If we cannot stop criminals from breaking the law and all laws do is put constraints on law-abiding citizens, why not do away with them? Last I checked, no one is arguing that we should make rape and murder legal just because the laws don’t stop rapists and murderers. It’s the same damn thing as the bathroom debates. And yet, the people who make this argument are the same who are in favor of those bathroom laws preventing trans people from going into the restroom of their choice in order to stop child molesters. Um…last I checked, there were laws against child molestation, and changing a law is not going to keep these people out of your bathrooms. At least show some consistency in your reasoning!

This argument also assumes that there is a characterological deficit in people who commit crimes. They are simply immoral people who have no regard for the law. Also, isn’t it funny how a person is a law-abiding citizen until the moment they decide to break the law? Many of the shooters in the recent years did not have a history of illegal behaviors prior to their ultimate act of violence.

“They’re trying to take our guns away.”

With some exceptions, no…no we are not. What I want are more stringent regulations over obtaining a weapon. I don’t want it to be impossible to obtain a gun, but god damn…this guy in Orlando should NOT have been able to buy that weapon, given his history. I see a lot of people on my Facebook who complain about the prospect of increased background checks, but these are people who I know would have no problem passing said background check. So basically, they’re not complaining about an inability to obtain their weapon, but rather the inconvenience of having to wait.

I would love for the CDC to be able to study gun safety. We let them study cars and now our cars are safer. Notice how they didn’t take our cars away. Good god, let’s do some research!

“People who are intent on committing violence will figure out another way to do it. Gun laws won’t stop these people.”

True. But, then again, NOTHING we do will be able to stop these people. But why make it easy for them? Why not MAKE them get creative out of necessity? Should we only enact laws that deter 100% of cases?

I approach this argument the way I approach the concept of suicide prevention and intervention. Nothing I do will be able to stop people who are deeply intent on killing themselves from following through with it. However, in most cases, it really isn’t that complicated. If they have a plan and I find out what that plan is, I put up a roadblock – which usually means removing the means. If a client tells me that they’re going to go home and blow their brains out with their handgun, you can bet your ass I’m on the phone with someone close to them to get that gun out of the household before the client gets home. And, guess what…in a large majority of cases, that’s where it ends. I have thwarted their plans and they don’t have the energy or motivation to come up with a new plan. Or they were ambivalent about it and that’s why they don’t come up with a new plan. As I said, though, for those people who are dedicated to killing themselves, removing that mean may be inconvenient but they will find another way. Should I not try to intervene with everyone because I won’t be able to stop these individuals?

If increased gun control has the potential to REDUCE (not eliminate, but reduce) instances of mass shootings by creating roadblocks to their planned means, then I’m all for it, even though we can’t stop those most extreme cases. Also, it’s easier to stop someone who’s going on a violent spree with a knife instead of a gun.

“Gun control is just a Band-aid solution. There are deeper societal problems that we need to address!”

This one is complicated, and I will be discussing it from time to time in several sections. But, okay, for the sake of argument, yes…it would be a band-aid solution. But why do you use a band-aid? You place it over a wound in order to stop the bleeding and prevent infection, allowing the underlying wound to heal without getting worse. Then, when the wound is healed, the Band-aid is removed. Huh…

There are, indeed, deeper issues that we need to address, which brings me to…

 

MENTAL HEALTH:

“We shouldn’t be talking about guns, we should be talking about mental health!”

Okay, let’s talk mental health. Keep in mind, I am a mental health professional. And, in a couple of months, I will have my Ph.D. in School Psychology. So, if the solution to gun violence and mass shooting is improving mental health, someone please explain to me why mental health is one of the first things on the chopping block (next to education) when we need to make budget cuts? Why is insurance coverage for mental health services such shit? There really is no “preventative health care services” when it comes to mental health. I live in Illinois and I have been watching emergency shelters and mental health facilities around the state close down due to lack of funding. And yet, if this argument is accurate, then these are the ABSOLUTE LAST places that should be closing.

Mental health in this country kind of sucks. And I say that as someone who desperately wants it not to suck. We have a fundamental misunderstanding of so many different psychological conditions (as a society) and seeking mental health services is often seen as a sign of weakness. There’s so much stigma.

And why wouldn’t there be? Every time there’s a shooting (as long as the shooter is white. Yes, I went there), everyone claims mental illness. This paints those struggling with mental illness as highly unstable and violent. So, yeah, why would someone risk going to seek services?

We SHOULD be talking about mental health. We need to do a lot better in this area. However, this is something that does not change over night. This requires a massive societal shift and many, many changes in public policy. Something has to be done in the meantime (please refer to the Band-aid argument) to keep this country from bleeding out.

But, you know, we should also be talking about things like income inequality/poverty (which contributes to crime). We should be talking about gender issues (men are supposed to be angry and violent, not sad and reserved!). We should be talking about a lot of things. We should not STOP talking about these things just because a week has passed since the shooting and no one cares anymore.

A society that supports violence.

We live in a society that actively promotes violence. I touched on funding problems in the previous section. Where does all of the money go? The military! We invest so much into our military and developing new and creative ways to kill each other. Every time there is a “terrorist attack,” there is public outcry to bomb ISIS back to the stone age. We got attacked on 9/11 and our response was to immediately invade multiple countries and engage in prolonged combat in areas populated by civilians. There are many that believe that constant threat of violence is how we should maintain foreign policy, and any attempt for peace and diplomacy is seen as weakness.

What does this tell us? If someone wrongs you, fight them. Beat the crap out of them. Hell, kill their parents while they’re at it, because they attacked you first. I was working on anger management with some middle school students and one of them tells me “my dad tells me it’s okay to fight back.”  How am I supposed to teach this kid how to regulate his emotions and not punch kids in the face for stepping on his foot when that’s the message he gets from home? That’s the message he gets from a society that believes in the unerring power of the “big stick.”

And, make no mistake, guns are a big stick in domestic situations. Guns are a symbol of power and control. So those people who desire power and control will immediately be drawn to guns.

If you want to address the underlying issues of gun violence, it requires us to change the very core of our society. We have to change this militaristic, violent tendency that we prize so highly in our country. But something tells me people aren’t ready for that.

Right now, we feel like we are getting attacked by Muslims, and we are lashing out. This brings me to my last section…

 

ISLAMOPHOBIA:

Islamophobia is very real thing. Put simply, Islamophobia is the fear of Muslims. And it is deeply, deeply irrational. I recommend everyone watch THIS VIDEO. Basically, since 9/11, violence against Muslims (and Sikhs, since we’re terrible at differentiating between things) has increased significantly. There has been a massive spike in fear of Muslims and we even have prominent political figures calling for a complete ban of an entire religion from entering the country. I know all of you have heard the “not all Muslims” argument (I mean…1.7 billion Muslims in the world…), so I’m not going to harp on that too much. Here’s what I am going to harp on…

“Not all Muslims are terrorists, but all terrorists are Muslim.”

This is, hands down, one of the biggest pile of steaming bullshit I have ever heard. How the hell is that dude who shot up the African-American church in Charlotte (I make a habit of not remembering their names) not a terrorist? How are any of those other people who committed mass violence who were not of Middle Eastern descent not terrorists? Look at how the media covers these events. If it is a white person, they talk about how it was an isolated incident fueled by mental health issues. But, god forbid, if the shooter happens to be Muslim, it must be a terrorist attack.

In the U.S., the vast majority of terrorist acts are perpetrated by domestic terrorists (23 out of 24 from 2002 to 2005). And yet, we still hear the talking heads droning on about how only Muslims are terrorists. What the hell?

“They’re so much worse than Christian extremist groups.” 

Again, watch the video I linked above. This is a problem in African countries, not Muslim countries. This is a problem in the third-world, where people have nothing and fear for their lives on a daily basis. A lot of the shit we talk about being highly inhumane in the “Muslim countries” in the Middle East also goes on in the “Christian countries” in other parts of Africa. But we only care about what’s gong on in the Muslim countries, for some reason.

But why do they attack us, but the Christian African countries don’t, you might ask. Well, we’ve been bombing the shit out of the Middle East for decades now. The West has been going in, bringing devastation and death to these areas. Civilians get caught in the crossfire and we call it collateral damage. Then we apologize and leave them to pick up the pieces. Is it any wonder that they hate the West? We have so many ways of justifying it, but all they know is that this foreign country just showed up and started killing people. Then some guy comes along and says that Allah has told them to fight against the West. It makes a lot of sense.

If only we had a Christian equivalent from the last century…

“The Nazis weren’t a Christian movement!”

While it is true that many of Hitler’s inner circle had a deep contempt for Christianity, it cannot be denied that Hitler specifically said that the Nazi movement was a Christian movement. You can argue all you want that they were not actually following Christianity, but the fact of the matter is he pedaled it to the masses as being a Christian organization. Now, if you’d listen to pretty much all of the Muslims in the West, ISIS and groups like it are not following Islam. But they say that they are. They use the religion as a weapon to manipulate the oppressed masses to join their cause. This isn’t about religion at all, it’s about power.

We apparently are really good at picking out when “Christian groups” aren’t actually representing Christianity, but are completely unable to do so for “Muslim groups.”

The danger of Islamophobia

Make no mistake, Islamophobia is dangerous. It leads to hatred, paranoia, and violence. It leads us to oppress those who are already marginalized. And, when you treat people like criminals long enough, eventually that prophecy gets fulfilled. Hatred and oppression is the fuel for extremism. If you want to push American Muslims to sympathize with these extreme groups, keep putting them down. It’s that simple.

Our irrational fear of Muslims is playing right into ISIS’s hands. It makes it a hell of a lot easier to recruit people when those people think that the entire world is against them.

 

So, I guess, to bring everything back around and reach some conclusions…What happened in Orlando was a horrible, horrible atrocity and it should be widely condemned. Everyone is looking for something to blame, but there seems to be this idea that we should only be talking about ONE thing. The talking heads like to spin the arguments to make us think one thing when reality is something completely different. They like to distract us from the real issues until we no longer care. It happens time and time again.

I don’t really know what the point of this post was, but I needed to rant about things that have been on my mind. We need to seriously re-evaluate what we call terrorism and we have to do better about how we treat Muslims, lest we foster the very extremism we are so terrified of.

To all of you gun-lovers out there, again, I am not trying to take your guns away. You have the right to your weapons. But it is becoming increasingly clear that there is a substantial problem in this country and something needs to be done. SOMETHING is better than the nothing that keeps happening. There has to be a way to limit access to firearms without completely banning them, because this shit is happening way too often. And (as has been mentioned time and time again), this is something that is so common for us, but incredibly rare for the rest of the “civilized world.”

And, for the love of god, if you honestly believe something has be done about mental health, then work harder to get something done about it. Each and every one of us needs to change our perceptions of mental illness. Each and every one of us needs to do better to correct the stigma.

Anyway, this post has gotten way to long. That’s all for today. Until next time.

~Malm

Real Leadership in the Virtual Environment

Hi all,

I’ve got a new gaming/psychology topic today…and again one that pertains to MMOs. So I’m sure several of us have been in interviews where they ask you about your leadership experiences. I know people will talk about being an active member in their sorority’s council or maybe they were the captain of a sports team. But to a lot of people, it would be laughable to cite being an officer in a raiding guild in a game like World of Warcraft as a leadership experience. But why? Why is it more legitimate to be the captain of your high school basketball team than it is to be a raid leader or guild leader? Some people would say that it’s because World of Warcraft isn’t real…it’s a video game. Therefore, nothing that happens in it is of value in the real world. But how does that really stack up?

Jang and Ryu (2011) conducted a study on 300 MMORPG players in Korea. These participants filled out a number of online surveys to assess what sort of leadership skills they applied in game as well as their real-world leadership abilities. I won’t go into too much detail (the reference is below if you want to look more into it yourself), but they basically found that players who were involved in online communities (i.e., being a member of a guild) used several important skills to ensure the success of the group. There was a strong correlation between in-game and real-world leadership skills among these players. Now, of course, this study does not help indicate which came first. It is possible that people with strong leadership skills simply carried those skills into the game. On the other hand, it is also possible that practicing leading in games like WoW actually helps improve leadership abilities. But the bottom line is: leadership in virtual environments is strongly related to leadership in real-world settings.

Now I want to talk a little bit about a personal example from the leadership structure of my current guild (Dominion on Stormrage). Within the last month, we have killed Archimonde on Mythic difficulty (for those who do not know, this is currently the hardest boss in the game currently…the “last boss” until the next expansion comes out). This is something that only a small percentage of guilds around the world are able to accomplish and, while it requires each and every player to perform at a certain level, there is something to be said that it would never have happened if it were not for our leaders. This small group of players had to corral 20 strangers and organize them to accomplish a very difficult task. So lets talk about them and their roles/responsibilities.

We have a recruitment officer (well, we used to and may in the future; we’re in a bit of a transition to that effect). The recruitment officer’s primary responsibility is to pitch the guild and find people who would be good potential raiders. They help people figure out how/where to apply. Yes, you apply to a serious raiding guild the same way you would a job. The recruitment officer would then schedule an interview between the applicant and the other officers.

Next up (in no particular order) is the DPS officer. This person is basically “in charge” of the damage-dealers in the raid. They have to be both mechanically skilled (the damage officer should be able to do damage!) as well as have a fundamental understanding of the other DPS classes in order to be able to identify if/when players are underperforming. Ideally, then, the DPS officer would work with the player to help them learn how to improve (even if that just means sending them off to forums to do some research).

Another important position is the healing officer. This officer, like the DPS officer, needs to be skilled as well as know the inner workings of the other healing classes. In addition, during raids, the healing officer has to know what defensive cooldowns are available among raiders and figure out which ones to use and when to use them during a given fight.

Of course, there is also the raid leader. The raid leader must research upcoming fights, read up on strategies, and determine what strategy will work best for the raid in order to kill the boss. This officer then needs to communicate this strategy to the raid and continue directing players throughout the encounter to ensure everyone is doing what they need to do.

Last, but not least, we have the guild leader (basically, the CEO of the guild). The guild leader often has the final say in decisions. Though, luckily, our guild leader has the wherewithal to not make gut decisions against the counsel of the other officers. He will frequently make group decisions with the other officers, but he does put his foot down from time to time.

So each of the officers has their specific roles and responsibilities as it pertains to the survival of the guild and raid group. But they also have a lot of shared responsibilities. They have to participate in interviewing applicants to determine if the applicant would be a good fit for the guild. They have to evaluate players to determine if they are worthy of being promoted or need to be demoted. They have to mediate conflicts between members of the raid. After a boss is killed, the officers discuss the loot and determine who to give gear to. They typically stay up after raid is over and discuss amongst themselves about the raid’s performance, where to improve, and who needs to be remediated.

Also importantly, the officers need to model skills at managing their own emotions. We’ve had a lot of very frustrating nights. It took us multiple weeks of trying to eventually kill Archimonde. Tempers flared within raiders and the officers were no exception to that. But when something went wrong, they needed to be able to take a step back and not let their emotions get the best of them and, for instance, keep themselves from automatically kicking someone who annoyed them from the guild.

Basically, what I’m trying to say, the leaders of this guild do so much work during raids and behind the scenes, making decisions that are intended to benefit the raid group and help ensure the guild’s success. Without them, this random assortment of personalities from across the U.S. and Canada would never be able to do half of what we’ve managed to do. So don’t they deserve some recognition? Don’t their frequent displays of leadership and collaboration in this virtual environment qualify as an applicable leadership experience that could be referenced during an interview or on a resume? You don’t magically just know how to lead a guild to victory. It takes real skills and it takes practice. Something to think about.

That’s all for now. See y’all next time!

(P.S., thank you to the small group of players who led our raid and continue to lead our raid on to victory. #Dominionstormrage).

References:

Jang, Y. & Ryu, S. (2011). Exploring game experiences and game leadership in massively multiplayer online role-playing games. British Journal of Educational Technology, 42(4), 616-623. DOI: 10.1111/j.1467-8535.2010.01064.x

The Hook: Behaviorism in Video Games

“You are just starting to play World of Warcraft. After selecting your class and customizing your character, you enter the world. Your user interface is fairly simple, with only a single button or two to push. There are wolves nearby, so you decide to fire off a frostbolt at a wolf and, with a couple more successful attacks, you kill the wolf. You decide to kill a few more wolves and then, suddenly,[BWIZZZH] your character is enveloped by gold light and a loud noise comes through your speakers. Exciting! You find that you have new spells to cast, you have more health, and hit harder – you leveled up! You want to do it again, so you keep killing wolves. But after killing the same number of wolves, nothing happens. Confused, you keep killing wolves until, shortly after, you level up again.”

Hey all,

The vignette above provides a rather rudimentary example of how one might begin playing an MMORPG. This leveling process pretty closely mirrors most games on the market that have leveling systems, especially online games. Leveling systems are just one of many ways video games make use of principles of Behaviorism to get players engaged in the game.

Behaviorism holds that, when beginning to shape behavior, the desired behavior must be rewarded frequently to establish a link between the behavior and the reward contingency. For this reason, it takes very little time to level up from one to two. In fact, the first ten levels occur very quickly, and can typically be accomplished in about two hours of playtime (I’m talking about brand new players, not people with the heirloom gear that drastically  reduces the time to level). With each level, however, the amount of experience needed to reach the next level increases, establishing a consistently-thinning, variable-ratio reinforcement schedule (Yee, 2006). Even after the player has reached the maximum level and begins to enter the end-game raids and dungeons, they receive new gear for their character on a variable-ratio schedule, which consistently reinforces player behavior (Madigan, 2009). It is a well-known principle of Behaviorism that variable-ratio schedules are among the most effective in maintaining target behaviors. Furthermore, behavioral systems are designed so that the reward schedule can be thinned out to reduce the subject’s reliance on reward (Cipani & Schock, 2011). Games like WoW, then, take advantage of these principles by rewarding players early and often with bright lights, victorious sound-bites, and new and interesting spells to cast. This establishes the player’s engagement with the game and their playing behavior is maintained through a thinning reward schedule until players are simply playing the game for the sake of playing it. Anyone who has played WoW for any significant amount of time could probably tell you about the ridiculous amount of time they spend running around their garrison doing literally nothing. By this point, they’ve been hooked. Video games are rife with behavioral systems such as leveling to shape and maintain players’ behavior, even to the point where they feel more like they are working as opposed to playing (Yee, 2006).

Taking a more general look at reward systems in video games, any single-player game that has various stages can be seen as its own reward system. By completing a stage, the player has “won” something. The next stage is normally a little harder, requiring the player to perform at a higher level to complete the stage and experience the satisfaction of winning again. Therefore, throughout the course of a game, a behavioral system constantly molds players behavior until they have mastered the game and can perform at a level that would have been impossible at the beginning (Hamlen, 2013).

When achievements – visual recognition for completing some special task in games – hit the market with the PS3, Xbox 360, Nintendo Wii generation, a new opportunity for behavior shaping was introduced. This may include completing stages, completing the game on different difficulties, finding hidden secrets built into the game, et cetera.  When a player completes the requirements for an achievement, a little icon flashes up on the screen and congratulates him/her on the accomplishment. The achievement reward specifies very specifically what behavior earned the reward and, as it does not provide any sort of tangible reward other than the acknowledgement, can be considered a form of direct verbal praise. This form of reinforcement has also been found to be effective in maintaining behaviors (Sharpley, 1988).

There is neuroimaging evidence to support the effect of behavioral principles on reinforcing player behavior in video games. One study found that striatal dopamine, which is associated with feelings of pleasure and reward, was released during video game play, particularly when players had earned some sort of accomplishment (Koepp et al., 1998). However, it is also clear that this is not due to the visual aspects of the game but rather by a feeling of being rewarded for performing in-game behaviors, as shown by evidence that striatal activity was only different for people actually involved in playing games and not those who passively watched the game being played (Katsyri, Hari, Ravaja, & Nummenmaa, 2013). It was this line of research that lent credence to the idea of video game addictions.

As can be readily seen, video games make frequent use of key behavioral principals in order to shape player behavior and keep them coming back to the games. The neuroimaging studies suggest that game play actually influences neuro-chemical functioning, which can lead to real feelings of excitement and euphoria that keeps players hooked. This was another topic that I discussed in that paper I mentioned several months ago [LINK]. Let’s throw it back to you all: what sort of things keep you engaged with games? What keeps you playing games long after you’ve “beaten” them? As another topic, what are your thoughts about the idea of video game addiction? Let me know your opinions. But that’s all for now.

See y’all next time!

References:

Hamlen, K. R. (2013). Understanding children’s choices and cognition in video game play: A synthesis of three studies. Zeitschrift fur Psychologie, 221(2), 107-114. DOI: 10.1027/2151-2604/a000136

Katsyri, J., Hari, R., Ravaja, N., & Nummenmaa, L. (2013). Just watching the game ain’t enough: Striatal fMRI reward responses to successes and failures in a video game during active and vicarious play. Frontiers in Human Neuroscience, 7, 1-13. DOI: 10.3389/fnhum.2013.00278

Koepp, M. J., Gunn, R. N., Lawrence, A. D., Cunningham, V. J., Dagher, A., Jones, T., Brooks, D. J., Bench, C. J., & Grasby, P. M. (2013). Evidence for striatal dopamine release during a video game. Nature, 393(6682), 266-268. DOI: 10.1038/30498

Sharpley, C. F. (1988). Effects of varying contingency and directness of rewards upon children’s performance under implicit reward conditions. Journal of Experimental Child Psychology, 45(3), 422-437. DOI: 10.1016/0022-0965(88)90040-9

Yee, N. (2006). The labor of fun: How video games blur the boundaries of work and play. Games and Culture: A Journal of Interactive Media, 1, 68-71. DOI: 10.1177/1555412995281819

Exploring Self-Concept and Identity in Creating Video Game Avatars

Hi all,

In modern video games, especially role playing games, there are often a ton of options when it comes to making your avatar (your in-game character, for those who are unfamiliar with the term). Games like Fallout 4 have seemingly endless combinations of features and you can spend hours making your character look exactly the way you want it to. Other games, such as World of Warcraft, have considerably fewer options for customization, though there is still an impressive degree of possibilities.

In games like WoW, you have to choose a lot that sort of dictates the identity of your avatar. What faction do you want to be (Horde or Alliance)? The answer to this question impacts the answer to the next: what race (each faction has 6 unique races and only 1 that crosses factions)? What class do you want to play (there are 11 different classes that map into 3 roles: tank, healer, and damage-per-second [DPS])? What is the sex of your character? After all of these options, you still need to choose various physical features of your character (skin color, hair style/color, facial features, and others depending on the race chosen). Finally, you have to try to find a name that fits your character, hoping that it hasn’t already been taken.

How do players make all of these decisions to create the character that they will use to navigate the virtual-social environment? Is it random? Or, is it possible that their choices actually say something about their personality?

Unfortunately, this is a topic that has received very little attention in the academic literature. Some studies have looked at topics similar to this, but a lot of them have focused on “addicted” players’ choices. Today, I want to talk a bit about one study that investigated this link between the player and his/her choices when making in-game avatars.

Bessiere, Seay, and Kiesler (2007) conducted a study using World of Warcraft players. A total of of 51 participants were included in the study. Basically, among other things, each participant was asked to complete rating scales on personality, depression, and self-concept under 3 different instructions:

1. Their perceptions of their real self (how they feel they are)
2. Their perceptions of their ideal self (how they would LIKE to be)
3. Their perceptions of their World of Warcraft character (their virtual personality)

So what did they find? First, participants rated their ideal selves more highly than their real selves (not surprising). Second, participants who had higher self-concepts and fewer symptoms of depression rated themselves more highly than those who had lower self-concepts and were more depressed (again, not surprising). Third, participants rated the personality of their in-game character as somewhere between their real selves and ideal selves. More specifically, players that had low self-concept and those that had higher levels of depressive symptoms created characters that were rated significantly more positively than they rated themselves. This suggests that these players chose to create avatars that better represented how they would LIKE to view themselves (Bessiere et al., 2007). That idea was largely supported by another study which found two major trends in character creation among players: some created characters whose skills and attributes represented amplified versions of their own, while others created characters who skills and attributes compensated for their own perceived deficits (Smahel, Blinka, & Ledabyl, 2008). So, based on these findings, there is something to be said about the idea that players actually have some rhyme or reason to how they create their characters, whether or not they are consciously aware of it.

As a psychology graduate student, I have committed the cardinal sin of turning my own analysis inward and scrutinizing my own behaviors and values to try to understand why I do what I do. A friend of mine read the Fall of Gilneas and asked me why nearly all of the main (non-NPC) characters were female, including the narrator. Well, literally all of my World of Warcraft characters on the server I play on are female.

There are many possible reason why this is the case, but one of the best hypotheses I can come up with is this: my main character is a female warrior, which strikes a unique balance between traditionally feminine and masculine traits; I personally have several interests that have been considered traditionally feminine (such as the arts). Even my career field is becoming increasingly female-dominated. Perhaps this character allows me to identify with these feminine traits while still holding onto masculine ideals. Role-playing a female character in these games allows me to explore the emotionality behind heroism, as women are generally more socially allowed to feel. Furthermore, I was originally a tank – the player there to protect others from harm, which additionally blends the protective and aggressive traits. That is, of course, one possibility. Another could be that my historically dysthymic tendencies have led me to hold a deep-seeded dissatisfaction with myself, resulting in an inherent need to play characters that are radically different from my perceived-self that allow me to pretend not to be me – at least for a few hours. There are many hypotheses that I have explored.

The bottom line is that the research is not there yet to be able to reliably interpret anything about the player from analyzing his/her in-game avatar; and it may never be there. If more attention were given to this topic, I could see this as being a potential source of projective personality data and potentially opens doors to allow clients to explore marginalized parts of their identity in a more safe environment (a discussion for another day). But, for now, it is just something that I find fun to think about.

To all those gamers out there, why do YOU make the characters you play? I’d be interested to hear your perspective and discuss it further. But as far as this post goes, that’s all for now.

See y’all next time.

 

References:

Bessiere, K., Seay, A., & Kiesler, S. (2007). The ideal elf: Identity exploration in World of Warcraft. CyberPsychology & Behavior, 10, 530-535. DOI: 10.1089/cpb.2007.9994

Smahel, D., Blinka, L., Ledabyl, O. (2008). Playing MMORPGs: Connections between addiction and identifying with a character. CyberPsychology & Behavior, 11, 715-718. DOI: 10.1089/cpb.2007.0210

FFC: Social Phobia

As promised, here’s the first chapter of Social Phobia. If you want a little more info on the story and characters, they can be found [HERE]. Questions, comments, and constructive criticism are welcome and appreciated.

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Social Phobia

Chapter 1: The Piano in the Window

I stood alone in the middle of my room, scanning all around me, lazily trying to identify something I had missed while attempting to keep my mind from wandering. Nothing obvious jumped out at me. I looked down at the open duffle bags on my bed. They were all filled to the brim and I reached down and battled with the zippers until I managed to close each and every one of them.  After plopping down on the bed next to the bags and sighing, I fixed my eyes on the open door.

Just then, my dad wandered into the doorway. “All packed up for the new semester?” he asked in his hearty, cheerful voice.

I took a quick look around out of habit. “I think so…I’ve got some shirts hanging up in the closet, but I think I’ve got everything else all squared away,” was my response.

“You got your contacts?”

“Yeah.”

“Contact solution?”

“Yup”

“Toothpaste?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Checkbook?”

“I’ve got everything,” I finally cut in. He would have kept going down his mental list had I not interjected.

My dad frowned a little. “I just wanted to make sure you didn’t forget anything,” he muttered rather dejectedly.

“Thanks, I appreciate it,” I replied, trying to keep the sarcasm out of my voice. I was not entirely sure if I succeeded to that end.

“C’mon, I’ll help you load what’s left into the car,” he offered, moving swiftly across my room with his long stride and hoisting up one of the larger bags. He grunted as he lifted it and I could almost hear his body groaning. I smiled a bit to myself, but I made sure he didn’t notice.

I stood back up, grabbed another bag, and followed him downstairs and out the front door. I reached into my pocket and felt around the little remote on my key ring, searching for the trunk-release to my car. It took a moment, but finally, the car let out a loud clunk and the trunk popped open.

My dad gently set the bag he was carrying in the empty compartment and took the mine. The weight of the one he chose seemed to have taken quite a bit out of him. “Why don’t you bring out the rest of the bags and boxes and I’ll pack them away in here, alright, bud?” he proposed with a smile.

I nodded and turned to head inside before replying simply with, “Alright.”

It took the better part of fifteen minutes to transport all of my belongings from the house to my car. Occasionally, I’d check my dad’s progress in fitting everything into the little sedan. It seemed like an impossible task. I swear, though…my dad must have been the Tetris world champion in his day. Not a single square inch of that trunk was wasted before he started loading things into the back seat. Finally, I left the house with my laptop stored away in my messenger bag – arguably my most valuable possession. I walked around to the passenger’s side of the car and very carefully set the bag on the floor in front of the seat.

“Is that everything?” my dad inquired, looking into the car. It was jam-packed. Even my TV fit in there somehow.

I nodded. “Yeah, I think so…”

For a moment, I thought my dad was going to go through the list of things I’d probably forgotten again, but he didn’t. “Do you need anything else before you head out?” he asked, staring at me very seriously.

“No, I’m pretty sure I’m good to go. I’ll probably pick up something to drink when I gas up to hold me over until I get there,” I responded.

“Okay…call when you get to school,” he requested.

“Will do,” I promised.

“Keep me updated on your finances, too. I’ll throw some more money in your account when you get low. Oh, and don’t forget to call every Sunday so I know you’re doing alright out there,” he added. I could just pick up on a slight pleading tone in his voice when he said that last part.

“I know, I will,” I responded. Just then, I felt a pang of guilt in the pit of my stomach. I always made this promise, but I usually forgot half the weeks, often resulting in my dad calling after awhile just to make sure I was still breathing. He never called me out on it, though.

He paused for a moment and frowned, visibly searching for what to say. “I…Your mother would be very proud of you, Matt…I just wish…” He cleared his throat and held out his hand. “Good luck, this semester,” he stated.

I nodded and took his hand. After a firm handshake, my dad backed away from the car, allowing me to slip into the driver’s seat. “Thanks, Dad. I’ll, uh…I’ll do you both proud,” I responded with a reassuring smile.  He nodded back at me as I closed the door and started the car.

I sat there for a moment, perfectly still, before donning my sunglasses and kicking the car into reverse and pulling out of the driveway. The driveway to my house had a bit of a bend in it and less-experienced visitors to my house had taken out the landscaping lights on numerous occasions. But I knew what I was doing; so after checking to make sure I wasn’t going to hit one of the neighbors on their morning jog, I allowed myself to take one last look at my house before I pulled out.

It was the kind of house I wanted to live in when I grew up; the kind of house that you invited all your friends to. It wasn’t anywhere close to a mansion, but it was pretty big. Suddenly, I had an image of my dad wandering around the house alone. It was the same image I had every year when I went away, and it always made me a little sad for leaving him behind.

I forced myself to suppress those thoughts as I shifted into drive and took off down the road. I stopped at a nearby gas station to fill up the car. While the gasoline pumped into the tank, I leaned against the side of the car and looked around. I was on the edge of the quiet little suburb I’d grown up in – on the border between my relatively sheltered life and the rest of the world. There was a time not so long ago when I’d have been terrified of what was out there; but when what was out there came here, those fears sort of slowly drifted away. At least, that’s how I rationalized it all.

The pump made some annoying sound, like someone dropped a hammer on a hunk of metal, announcing that it refused to fill my tank further, and effectively tore me from my thoughts. I returned the hose to its home and ran inside to buy a soda for the road. Before long, I was off once again.

On my way to the expressway, I always passed my dad’s practice. I always read his name off the sign out of habit: “Dr. Gregory Burns.” Those three words on the clinic were always a source of pride for me. More recently, they were a source of comfort. Everybody loved my dad; they told me he was one of the most knowledgeable physicians that they actually enjoyed talking to. I always took that to be some sort of generalizing remark about how good doctors are mostly all humungous assholes, so I accepted it as an especially generous compliment.  It also assured me that, even though I was gone, my dad wouldn’t be lonely.

I sighed. One day, I’d be more like him, once I start my career. One day, I’d be able to go through what he went through and still come out the other side a decent human being. But for now, I was just a leech, draining ever more from his surprisingly endless funds until I am strong enough to break away and live independently.

I mentally punched myself in the gut. There are a lot of people who would kill to be in my position and here I was feeling almost ashamed of it. What can I say? I wasn’t raised to take it for granted.

After another few minutes, I was on the expressway. At this point, I turned the CD player on and let my mind wander while my body went into autopilot. It was a little over two hours’ drive down to school, and I’ve found that getting lost in my thoughts was the best way to cope with the boredom of driving past cornfield after cornfield that characterized most of the Midwest.

Before I knew it, I had reached the city of Star Falls, named after the Star Enterprises Corporation that sat at the center of the city and towered over the area like a benevolent king. I always thought it sounded like the name of a level from any number of popular Nintendo franchises. From what I heard, Star was the heart and soul of the town, supplying the vast majority of jobs for the area and keeping the local economy active and stimulated. Every time I caught sight of the Star Enterprises tower, I always wondered what it is they actually did in that building. This time was no different. I’d driven in the shadow of this building probably a couple dozen times now, and its mysterious workings still eluded me.

I kept on the expressway until I reached the other side of the city before exiting. The street I turned on to always had such a neat effect in the spring and summer. Houses and apartment complexes filed all the way down the street. However, there were trees between most of the buildings and the road, creating a natural, verdant tunnel that always made me feel like I was taking some sort of secret passageway, hidden away from the world.

At the end of my favorite little tunnel, the world opened up again, revealing the gates to Calligow University. I guess they were really just gates in the symbolic sense, since they never closed. Come to think of it, I didn’t know if they even could close anymore, or if they were ever intended to. Who knows?

I was stopped dead by the line of cars as parents were moving their kids into their new dorms… typical move-in day. There was nothing to do but look around at the all-too-familiar buildings that I’d basically called my home for the better part of the last two years. It was a small university, but the campus was open and beautiful, with tree-dotted quads sandwiching the main drive towards the academic buildings. The dorms stood closer to the gates and led off to the side down long parking lots. Straight ahead of the gate stood the crown jewel of the university: Calligow Hall, which claimed home to the vast majority of departments in the college; its old-timey, Victorian architecture was incredibly inviting, as if to say “we’re classy, so you know you’ll learn a lot.”

It took quite some time, but I was finally able to find a parking spot near my new dorm: a building called Providentia Hall, apparently named after some Roman goddess or something. All of the dorms were tied to mythology in some way.

I grabbed only my messenger bag and got out of the car to go get my room key. The lobby was lively as freshman and their parents were filling out forms and signing agreements. I asserted my way to the front desk and requested my key. The student attendant asked to see my student ID and then found my room key for me.

“Welcome back to Calligow University!” the girl at the desk welcomed warmly as I turned.

“Thanks,” I responded automatically. My room was on the first floor, so I walked over to another set of doors that led to the actual dorm rooms. They had this thing about needing to use your key multiple times to actually get into your room. I walked down the hall, reading the numbers on the door descend until I had located mine: 104. It was at the far end of the hall, almost right next to the back exit to the hall. I checked the knob first: the door was locked, so I used my key and opened the door. I had apparently beaten my roommate back to school.

The room was empty and, well frankly, it was kind of depressing not having anything in it. That would soon change, of course. At least it started off clean. I liked what I saw. This dorm had lofted beds, situated over an area perfect for a small couch or futon to sit on and our TV and mini-fridge. There was a long desk along one wall that ended where one bed began. Across from that was the closet, which filled the other wall to the opposing bed. I picked that one for my side; I liked the option of putting things on top of the closet.  It was a huge improvement over the other dorms I’d been in where the beds were supposed to be pushed in to make little couches for seating. I set my messenger bag down on the desk.

I left the room and headed for the exit; the back door was propped open with a brick to make sure that people could more easily move their belongings into the dorm. I stood in front of my car for a moment before taking a deep breath and diving in to start pulling out boxes. It took me about half an hour to get everything into my room. Then I had a new problem: there was this massive blob of stuff in the middle of the room. I wasn’t entirely sure how to attack such a daunting creature. It was easy enough to hang up my button-downs in the closet when I brought them in, but there were just so many containers to go through.

This wasn’t good. I just got here and was already battling with motivation problems. I forced myself to grab one of the duffels I knew to house some of my clothes and opened it. Slowly, I started to distribute my clothing articles amongst the drawers that made the support-structure for the bed.  It was slow work, mostly because I made it slow. I looked around for a place to sit while I sifted through my clothing. The room had come with these little desk chairs that didn’t look too terribly comfortable and my roommate was bringing the futon, so it looked like I was without a comfy seat for awhile. I made a note to go out and buy a real chair later that afternoon.

My newly formed plans to obtain a desk chair had the strange effect of energizing me and I unpacked quicker.  After a couple of hours, I had finished and there was now a neat pile of flattened duffle bags on top of the closet and a stack of empty boxes outside the door by the trashcans.  All that was left was my television and the large bag containing my video games and consoles. Those would have to wait for my roommate’s arrival when he brought the TV stand. I pulled my cell phone out of my pocket to check the time; it was almost noon. As if in direct response to seeing the time, my gut began to churn and gurgle. “I guess it’s time for lunch, huh?” I said aloud. I don’t think I was really talking to anyone. Maybe I was talking to my stomach to reassure it that its pleas had been heard.

It would suck to give up my parking space so soon. I probably wouldn’t get it back. Then again, I figured I could just park in the parking deck from there on out. It wasn’t too far from the parking deck to Providentia.

As I walked out the door, my phone started to vibrate. I looked down at the screen – it was my dad. Crap. “Hi, Dad,” I greeted as I answered.

“Well hey! How was the drive?  I assume you made it down there alright?” he responded cheerfully.

“Yeah, I did…sorry I forgot to call right away. I guess I got lost in the excitement of everything and then I moved my stuff into my room,” I explained. It was the first day and I was already forgetting promises I made to him.

“Don’t worry about it. That’s what I figured, anyway. Well, I just wanted to call and make sure everything was alright. I’m sure you’ve got a lot to do today. Give me a call if you need anything.” He didn’t sound all that put-off about it, but I still felt a little guilty – as if I was failing to live up to even his most basic expectations.

“Alright…I’ll call you tomorrow, like I promised,” I vowed.

“I look forward to hearing from you!” We bade each other goodbye and I hung up the phone.

I didn’t feel guilty for long. Another loud gurgle from my stomach realigned my thoughts back on food. I reached my car and cautiously pulled out of the parking space. There were people everywhere. With a little luck and a lot of patience – since people seemed to have no regard, whatsoever, for the motorized death-machine rolling towards them – I managed to get off campus.

I was out for only about an hour. I stopped by a local fast-food joint for a burger, since I figured it’d be best to start out the semester healthy. Afterwards, I drove out to some store in search of a suitable desk chair. I found one that was remarkably comfortable that was fairly reasonably priced, so I went ahead and bought it. The box almost didn’t fit in the back of my car.

It didn’t take me long to assemble the chair, even though the instructions had to have been written in Scandinavian or some crap like that. The little elevation lever didn’t work, but it was at the right height anyway, so I didn’t really care. I pushed the little chair the school had provided out into the hall for someone else to take care of and wheeled my new chair in front of the desk. I took a seat and pulled my laptop out of my messenger bag.  Every year I had to re-register my computer with the school’s network, which always sucked on the first day because everyone was trying to do it all at once, but it seemed like a good time. I figured it was early enough in the day that most people were still distracted with the moving-in activities.

Just as I was finishing, I heard a familiar voice just outside the door. I swiveled the chair around just in time as the door opened. “I’ve been expecting you,” I stated in a creepy, monotone voice while making a motion with my hand as if petting an imaginary cat.

My roommate, a tall, wide guy named Scott Sharps, stood in the doorway with an amused smile on his face. “Dude, you’re such a dumbass,” he laughed, walking past me and carrying a large bag not unlike those I had toted in earlier.

“Good to see you too.” His parents were close behind him with more stuff. I greeted them each cheerfully and stood up. “You guys need any help?”

Scott’s mom smiled. “That would be lovely, Matthew; thank you,” she accepted.

With the four of us, it didn’t take long to move Scott’s belongings into the room.  While his mom helped him put his clothes away, I set to work assembling the futon and sliding it into the area under Scott’s bed. If I got the one next to the closet, he got the bed across from the TV. There was barely an inch of space between the futon and the wall: a perfect fit.  His dad helped us arrange the TV stand and the mini-fridge on the other side and we got my television all set up.

When everything was unpacked, Scott and his family headed out for a late lunch. They invited me, but since I’d already eaten, I opted to hang around campus. I took a few minutes unloading all of my games and game console and hooking it up to the TV, but I wasn’t particularly interested in starting to game quite yet. I felt kind of restless for some reason, so I left the room – locking the door behind me – and went for a stroll.

I wasn’t heading anywhere in particular; I was just sort of wandering around the campus. It was such a nice day out: sunny, but with a breeze that kept it from feeling too warm. Campus had quieted down somewhat. Most of the students who had planned on actually moving in on move-in day had already arrived. There were a few late-comers scurrying about, but it was all considerably less chaotic.

As I was passing by the singles dorm, named Muta Hall, I started to hear music. Someone was playing the piano. I looked around, but didn’t see anyone. Though, I suppose I wasn’t surprised that I didn’t see someone sitting out on the lawn with their keyboard set up. I quickly surveyed Muta Hall to try to figure out where the sound was coming from. There was a single window open up on the second floor. The music was coming from there. It was a slow, sorrowful, almost confused melody. I in no way count myself to be the expert on music, but my dad loved classical music and I’d accompanied him to the symphony or the occasional recital. This didn’t really sound like the style of any of the composers I’d heard. It sounded more…spontaneous, as if the player didn’t know where the song was going but was merely playing their emotions. That’s probably a weird way to think about it, but, as I said, I’m not an expert on music. I lack the language to really explain what it sounded like.

I stared hard at the window as I listened to the tune. I could just barely make out the silhouette of a person’s profile; it looked like this person was a girl, but it was hard to tell. I stared for several moments, but I failed to get a better look or even get the person’s attention – not that I was particularly trying to.  There was a low stone wall next to the sidewalk, so I sat on it and just listened for awhile. Something about the song was entrancing. It allowed me to let my mind wander and ideas and stories would form in my head that fit the tone. I had to admit, some of the images my brain created as a result were rather concerning.

I don’t know how long I sat on that wall listening to sounds of the piano drifting out of that second-story window. All I know is that, at some point, someone slapped me upside the head, painfully tearing me away from my pensive state. It was Scott.

“Hey, Earth to Matt!” he called out as he struck me again.

I let out a short yelp, mostly out of surprise than pain, but it did sting quite a bit. “You bitch! What’d you do that for?” I complained.

“Because it looked like I could do it without you noticing,” he replied with a chuckle. “What were you doing?”

“I was…” I stopped, the music had ceased. I looked up at the window again. Whoever had been playing the piano was no longer seated where they had been before. I thought I could see what looked like part of someone’s head peaking down through the side of the window, but they kept to the shadows. Our little scene must have finally alerted the musician that someone was listening. “Never mind. Let’s head back.”

Scott shrugged. “Aight.”

As we walked back to Providentia Hall, I peered back really quickly at the window. The person was gone. I simply kept going, trying to remember how that solemn melody went.

“So what classes are you taking this semester?” Scott asked.

“Huh? Oh, um…a couple of psych classes and the rest are creative writing things,” I responded vaguely.

“So you’re going through with that creative writing minor?”

“Yeah, dude…I may suck at writing, but it’s fun. I’m in this class where I hear they don’t actually teach. Class is just time for you to practice writing and talk with the professor or other students about your writing in order to make it better.”

“Any assignments?”

“As far as I know, you tell the professor early on what you’ll have for them at the end and it’s up to you to get it done.”

“So you’re finally gonna finish that novel you’ve been working on?” Scott asked sheepishly.

“Maybe, smartass…maybe.”

He laughed. “Well that’s cool. I’m just taking more multimedia and computer design classes. Keep working on that writing and we’ll make a game for my senior project and you can write the story and script.” Scott had dreams of becoming a game designer.

“We’ll see…”

We made it back to our room. We both dropped down on the futon just in time for someone to knock on our door. Being the leaner of the two of us, I could get off the couch the easiest. With a sigh, I stood back up to go answer it. It was another guy, about a head shorter than me, but very wiry, much like myself. “Hi?” I greeted questioningly.

“What up? I’m Adam, your RA. You must be…?” he introduced, trailing off to let me answer.

“Matt…Matt Burns,” I responded, offering my hand. He shook it.

“Hey, Matt. I just wanted to let you know, there’s a floor meeting tonight where we’re all going to introduce ourselves and everything. We’ll meet out here in the hall at eight,” he informed me. “Let your roommate know, okay?”

I nodded. “Will do. See you then.”

Adam walked off to deliver the message to other people on the floor. I walked back and sat back down on the futon.

“Oh, by the way…” I began.

“I’m not deaf,” Scott interrupted. He picked up one of my game controllers. “Wanna go?” he challenged.

“Let’s do it!” Scott never beat me. Today was no different. We played until we were hungry and then hit the cafeteria for dinner. Afterwards, we attended the floor meeting, where we discovered that about half of the residents on the first floor all liked the same types of video games, so we arranged a floor-wide game of our favorite first-person shooter with roommates on a team against other rooms. Scott and I won; it wasn’t really all that difficult. We continued playing until around two in the morning. At that point, we figured it would be time to go to sleep.

***

I found myself walking down the street. I looked around. Everything looked familiar; I wasn’t in school, though. Then it hit me: this was my hometown. It was a pleasant day in the middle of the summer. I became aware that I was walking with someone. I glanced off to my right. I was walking alongside a very familiar woman who was quite a bit shorter than I was. She had light-brown hair, like me, and very similar bluish-green eyes. I flashed a bright smile.

 It was my mom.

I wanted to speak, but for some reason, I didn’t. We were out shopping, walking around the “down-town” section of the suburb where I’d grown up.

I looked down at myself. I felt younger. My clothes were somehow different; it was a style that I hadn’t worn in quite some time.

“Come on, Matthew, we still need to get you some new clothes for school,” my mom urged as I lagged behind a little. This whole scene was so strangely familiar.

I heard something. Music? I’d heard the song before, too…but not here – never at home. Where was it from? It was so distant…so sad. My head was swirling from this combination of old and new. What was going on? Was this a dream? If it was, then what…

My eyes widened. I knew this memory. The somber piano solo was a new addition, but I knew where I was. My heart started to race, but I couldn’t seem to make myself move any faster.

 “Why can’t I just wear what I have?” I complained. Why was I complaining about clothing? Come on, you idiot, don’t you know what day it is?

My mom laughed a little. “Because half your clothes have holes in them, sweetie. It won’t take long.” We were nearing the end. I was beginning to panic, but my body didn’t seem to respond.

 “Fine, whatever.” That was really what I said…That was it… The music picked up in pace and became quite agitated and suspenseful. It all seemed almost theatrical.

“Oh, don’t be like that, Matthew. A couple of hours with your mother won’t hurt,” she responded calmly. “Years from now, when you have kids, you’ll think back to today and…” What she intended me to think back to, I’d never know. Shit…Shit…stop walking, Mom!

The music stopped abruptly. A deafening bang shattered the peaceful streets. People screamed. Next thing I knew, my mom was on the ground. There was blood; lots of blood. She wasn’t moving. Her eyes were open and appeared fixed on something. Oh God no!

“Mom?” No response. I called a little louder. “Mom?” Still nothing.

“Mom!” I cried, shooting up in my bed. I was sweating and breathing hard; my heart was racing. It took me a moment to realize where I was: I was safely back in my dorm room at school.

I nervously glanced over across the room. Scott was sitting up; I could see his form through the darkness. While I couldn’t make out his face, I could tell his concerned eyes were on me. “That dream again?”

I nodded, continuing to pant. “Y-yeah…” I responded weakly.

“You okay, dude?”

“Don’t worry about it…let’s just go back to bed,” I replied sorrowfully. I saw him lay back down and did the same. I rolled over, facing the wall. I wasn’t able to go back to sleep for some time. It had been months since I’d had that dream. It never got any easier. Tears welled up in my eyes, but never dropped.

…Shit…

Free First Chapters

Hi all,

So I’ve been thinking through what sort of things I would like to post on my blog to keep content coming and I’ve come up with an idea. I do a lot of writing that I would like to do something with (i.e., publishing, maybe). So I don’t necessarily want to post the whole thing here. However, I think I’d like to start posting the first chapters of things that I’m writing. This won’t be a week-to-week thing, but more of a “when available” thing…I don’t have THAT many stories in the works.

As most are aware, the first chapter is pretty important. It needs to set up the story and at least a few of the major players while also hooking the reader into wanting to invest more time with it. So, I’m going to post the first chapter and…well…I wouldn’t mind feedback. I’d like to know if the chapter is intriguing, what questions you might have, and advice on how I might be able to better bring you in.

Tomorrow, I intend to post the first chapter to Social Phobia. I hope you all enjoy it and constructive criticism is invited and appreciated.

Well, that’s all for now. See y’all next time!

Vocabulary and Wording Choice

Hey all,

Sorry. I know it has been a long time since I’ve posted anything. I do hope to get more regular with this. I’m going to shoot for once a week. Let’s see how long I can keep that going…

Anyway, today I wanted to talk about word choice in writing. A little while ago, I saw some people talking on Facebook about music. They were berating popular music for their choice of smaller, simpler words while their music of choice “often sent them running to the dictionary.” They used that to boast the superiority of their choice of music.

I have to say, I disagree. I have a pretty decent vocabulary…I also have a very technical vocabulary because of my area of study. I COULD riddle my writing with big or complicated words, but I make a conscious effort not to in most cases. After all, professionally, I’m supposed to assess a wide range of psychological constructs; however, the consumers of my report sometimes don’t have much more than a high school education. What use are they going to get out of a report written for a doctor? So I have to make sure I temper my writing for laymen. To a degree, the same can be said for creative writing.

When it comes down to it, I try to entertain with my writing. I don’t want reading my writing to feel like work. So if I know an easier word to get the same point across, I’ll probably use it. In normal conversation, people often do not harness the full scope of their vocabulary anyway, so doing so in writing can come off as artificial and, at times, pretentious.

That’s not to say there aren’t exceptions to this. If my characters are particularly educated or trying to show off, I’ll use big words in dialogue. Also, I will throw one in here and there, but make sure I throw in enough context clues to where my readers shouldn’t have to go find a dictionary. I mean, there’s no reason I can’t help people expand their vocabulary, too…I just want to make sure I monitor it.

This opinion got strengthened quite a bit while I was writing the Fall of Gilneas. When I’m writing things that I know I am not going to try to publish, I tend not to moderate my language as much as I would if it were one of the stories I’d eventually like to do something with. Anyway, one of my friends was reading through the first few chapters and one of the bits of feedback he gave me was: it made me feel stupid. I had been using a lot of words he didn’t know. Reading back through it, there were tons of words I could have used that would have been easier and more accessible to a wider audience.

I guess what I’m trying to say is: using big words does not, in my view, improve a piece of written work in most cases. After all, it is legitimately more difficult to describe complicated things in non-complicated language. Also, if you’re making your readers feel stupid, how long do you think they’ll be your readers?

What do you all think?

That’s it for this one. I’ve been thinking about things that I can post to keep my blog going. I’ve got some ideas, but I am open to suggestions. Are there any topics anyone would like me to address?

See y’all next time!

The Fall of Gilneas Chapter Directory

Hi all,

Phew! It’s finally “done.” As many of you know, back in May, 2015 I started writing an extensive World of Warcraft fan fiction that aimed to achieve two things: 1) explore and adapt, in detail, the story of the Worgen starting quest-line and, in doing so, 2) tell the story of the origins of my Warrior in World of Warcraft (also starring my Druid and Priest). This post is intended to act as a brief introduction and a directory list to the individual chapters so that it is easier to read through.

This was a fun little side project I involved myself in after writing my first WoW fan fiction, Mistaken Potential (found HERE), that ended up consuming a lot of my time. But it wasn’t in a bad way; I actually really enjoyed writing it. I tried to write this so that even non-WoW players will be able to follow along and generally understand what is going on. However, there may be some things that will require some background knowledge to completely understand, so if there is something you’d like for me to explain further, just let me know. I like to think I am fairly knowledgeable of the pertinent lore.

While reading through this, please keep a couple of things in mind. First, I have NOT read through this, myself, so there are bound to be spelling and grammatical errors. If anything glaring sticks out at you, please let me know. Second, some of the story is taken directly from in-game dialogue or quest text. It’s hard to say exactly when this happens, but I wanted to be transparent with the fact that not all of the language in the story is mine (though, most of it is).

Before I provide the list of links to the chapters, I also wanted to mention that I welcome any feedback you may want to give, but please try to keep it constructive. You may reply under the individual chapters or under this post. If you read through it, please leave me a note with some general impressions.

Anyway, without further adieu, here is the list of chapters (click on each to navigate to the posted chapter)…

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The Fall of Gilneas

Chapter 1: Being Watched

Chapter 2: Enlisted

Chapter 3: One Last Stand

Chapter 4: Running Wild

Chapter 5: Waking Up

Chapter 6: Reunions

Chapter 7: Unleash the Beast

Chapter 8: Evacuation

Chapter 9: Respite at Greymane Manor

Chapter 10: Poking the Ettin

Chapter 11: Into the Blackwald

Chapter 12: The Scythe of Elune

Chapter 13: Old Friends, New Bonds

Chapter 14: Coup D’etat

Chapter 15: Liberating Emberstone

Chapter 16: A Royal Sacrifice

Chapter 17: The Plague Comes

Chapter 18: Remembering the Fallen

Chapter 19: One Big Orc

Chapter 20: A New Journey Awaits

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And there it is. Altogether, this story clocked in at 328 pages and 162, 715 words and took me the better part of 6 months to write (since I am also working through my internship). Again, please let me know what your impressions were of the story. Until then..

See y’all next time!

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The Fall of Gilneas – Chapter 20: A New Journey Awaits

The Fall of Gilneas

Chapter 20: A New Journey Awaits

“Naomi!” a familiar, welcoming, and friendly voice sang. Daniel? My eyes fluttered open. Daniel’s smiling visage lay beside me. “You’re awake,” he added.

I couldn’t believe my eyes; I could feel tears of joy gathering. “You’re here! You’re alive!” I exclaimed. I threw my arms around him, lost in my disbelief. “By the Light. I’ve missed you so much!” I nearly sobbed.

“I’ve missed you, too, Love,” he responded. “But…I’m afraid I’m not quite alive,” Daniel commented.

I separated from him and my joyous smile faded “What?” I asked, incredulously. I sat up and looked around. There was nothing around us; nothing but warm light. I couldn’t even make out the dimensions of whatever we were sitting on. “Where are we? Am I…dead?”

He gave me a strange smile. “Not quite, Love. But it was close…close enough for us to be able to talk for a spell. And then, when you’re ready, it’ll be time to go back to Azeroth. There are people waiting for you,” he explained. “And I’ll go back to keeping my eye on you from here.”

“How am I still alive?” I wondered. I was so badly beaten…and that hunk of metal; that had to have punctured something important.

“There are people down there who refuse to give up on you,” he responded vaguely. “Just trust me on this…I know.”

“So…where are we?”

“We’re in the presence of the Light, which has chosen to bestow on us the gift of this meeting.”

I became aware of my snout between my eyes as I thought about what he was saying. I looked down at my fur-covered body. “I’m…still a worgen…”

“If you read my letter, you know that I don’t care about that,” he soothed. “But…if you want, you can change.”

I was already in the process of transforming back into a human as he talked. It was strangely effortless. “I…I don’t get it,” I stated in confusion. It was usually harder than that.

“We’re souls, Love. And yours is equal part human and worgen now. You are both, so your soul can appear as whichever you choose,” he informed me.

“How do you know that?”

“Being dead, you learn things,” he shrugged. That was an unsatisfactory response, but I dropped it…he reminded me of a very somber fact.

I stared at him with mournful eyes. “I’m…I’m sorry I couldn’t save you,” I apologized quietly.

He reached forward and ran his hand through my hair. “You have nothing to apologize for, my love. There was nothing you could have done to save me and my death was in no way your fault,” he assured me calmly.

 “But if only I’d…”

“If only you’d what? There. Was. Nothing. You. Could. Do,” he scolded playfully. “So stop blaming yourself and get rid of all of that guilt.”

 I averted my eyes. “Sorry,” I muttered. “I swear to you, I’ll avenge you. I’ll make the Forsaken pay,” I vowed.

 He chuckled a little to himself. “I knew you’d say that, Poppet. But I want you to do something for me.”

“Anything!”

 “Don’t be in any hurry to return to Gilneas and don’t go out of your way to go after Sylvanas,” he told me.

   “But…”

  “Live your life. I knew a long time ago that you would do great things. Don’t throw that away pursuing the Forsaken.”

“But…”

  “You’ve always wanted to go on an adventure and see the world. Here’s your chance. Go out there and see what mysteries Azeroth holds. Help people, make friends…fall in love,” he continued.

  “But what about you?”

 “Nothing would make me happier than to watch you being happy,” Daniel told me tenderly. “You’re so young. You should have so much of your life left. There will come a day when the pain you’re feeling now will be a memory. I don’t want you to stop thinking of me, but I don’t want you to think only of me.”

 I stared into his eyes and tried to think about something to say. “I’ll…I’ll try,” I finally responded. It was weird hearing him tell me to move on, but it helped. It helped having the chance to know what he wanted from me – what his last wishes were for me.

 We locked in a warm embrace and Daniel kissed me passionately. I don’t know how long we stayed like that. For all I cared, this moment could last for the rest of eternity.

  “Naomi?” I heard a voice call somewhere in the distance.

  Daniel pressed his forehead gently against mine. “It’s time for you to go,” he announced.

 I shook my head. “No…I want to stay here a little longer,” I denied obstinately.

  “Naomi, please wake up!” the voice resounded again. I knew it was Gwen.

 “It’s time,” he repeated. He kissed me again. “I’m so proud of you. I love you so very much, Naomi Malmin. Trust in that and know that I will be watching you forever.”

 Tears accumulated in my eyes. I longed to linger here – to stay with him. But somehow I knew I couldn’t. My stubbornness would do nothing. “I love you, too, Daniel. And I always will.”

“We’ll see each other again…some day long from now. Until then, goodbye, my Love.”

“Goodbye, Daniel. I won’t forget you as long as I live.”

With that, the Light consumed us and Daniel disappeared from view. I could still feel him, his presence wrapped around me like a perpetual embrace. I closed my eyes, feeling my lost love’s spirit warming mine, confident that when I opened my eyes, I would be back. I knew what he said was true.

  It was time to wake up.

***

My eyes snapped open and I could see two figures standing over me, but their features were obscured by the light of the sun in the clear sky above them. I knew the one on the left had to be Gwen. I recognized her silhouette. The other, I thought was my father, at first. I mean, who else would it be? But I quickly realized I was very, very wrong. Whoever this was above me, it had to be an elf and most likely a woman. If this one turned out to be my father, I would have some serious concerns about the state of my eyes.

I tried to sit up, but a surge of pain jolted through my stomach and I grunted. “Stay still,” a calm, deep female voice commanded. That had to be the elf. But her voice was somewhat different from the others that I had talked to, so it was a new one. Who is she? Why is she standing over me?

“You’re alive!” Gwen exclaimed ecstatically. She looked like she was going to fall forward to hug me.

“Don’t move her,” the night elf warned suddenly. “Not while the fragment is still in her.” After she added that, I realized something; my body wasn’t in pain – not really. Sure I still felt discomfort and there was the momentary pain when I moved, but it wasn’t anything like before.

“What…what happened?” I asked weakly.

“We got out,” Gwen told me. “We’re on a ship and we’re leaving Gilneas behind us.”

“How long…was I out?” I recalled my little meeting with Daniel and my heart skipped a beat.

“About an hour.  If you could stand, you could still see our country behind us,” she mentioned. “I thought you were going to die.”

“So did I.”

“We have to remove the shard of metal,” the night elf cut in. She looked over at Gwen. “I need you to pull it out on my command. I’ll stop the bleeding and seal the wound.” The elf looked back to me; though her features were obscured by shadows, her eyes shined down at me. “This will not feel pleasant. Please try to remain calm,” she advised.

“She’ll be fine. Nothing’s managed to kill her yet,” Gwen pointed out.

I rested my head on the deck of the ship and stared at the sky. “I’m ready.”

I could feel the two people moving over me. There was a twinge of pain as Gwen’s fingers brushed against the metal fragment. After a moment, I heard the elf give the signal and I braced myself. I groaned and nearly howled in pain as Gwen forcibly ripped the shard out of me. But that feeling was quickly replaced with a numb warmth. Out of the corner of my eye, there was a bright, golden light.

After a short time, it was all over. “That should do for now. You’ll probably feel some discomfort. Give me a few days and there shouldn’t even be any scarring,” the elf assured me.

“Who are you?” I questioned.

She moved to the side and the sunlight washed over her face. She had a very friendly, youthful visage. There were tattoos of leaves around her eyes. This elf had short, light-blue hair. “My name is Luna Lightsong, a Priestess of the Kal’dorei,” she introduced. “Ishnu-alah, Naomi Malmin. I have heard much about you.”

“A pleasure,” I responded.

“She’s an amazing healer, especially compared to me,” Gwen commented. “She stitched you up in a matter of minutes…didn’t even break a sweat.”

“I…I want to sit up,” I stated. Gwen helped prop me up and basically dragged me over to the side of the ship so I could sit against it.

I got a better look of Luna as she stood up. She was wearing an ornate robe that was blue, gold, and white. It was open around the belly, showing off a shapely midriff. Her shoulder-pads were huge and had a glowing orb embedded in each. As she stood, she retrieved a long, golden staff from the ground. There was a red gem floating within the head of the staff that sparkled magnificently.  She walked over to me.

“Thank you for helping me,” I stated earnestly.

She smiled. “Never you mention it. It is my pleasure to help a soul in need,” she replied. “I imagine you your friend will want to talk. We have a long voyage ahead of us. If you would be amiable to it, I would enjoy a chance to speak with you.”

“I think that would be the least I could do,” I responded. I have to try to think of a way to repay her for her kindness.

“Until then, ande’thoras-ethil,” Luna commented with a nod. She wandered away and left me with Gwen.

I watched her leave and then gazed around the ship. There were several people walking around – a few night elves and groups of Gilneans. My eyes darted from face to face. “Where’s my dad?” I asked Gwen.

“He’s on another ship. Most of the people were loaded up and ready to evacuate before we took down the airship,” Gwen informed me. “I heard he wasn’t happy about that; but, in the end, the king was more persuasive.”

“He argued with the king?” I laughed. I couldn’t picture it, but it was somewhat fun to think about it. “Does he know I’m alive?”

“I’m sure he does,” Gwen shrugged. We were silent for a moment, just sitting next to each other and staring off into the distance. “We made it out,” Gwen finally stated thoughtfully.  “Naomi…we made it out,” she repeated, sounding almost confused.

“We did,” I responded with a nod. I laid my hand on my side. Beneath the fur, I could feel a bump – all that was left over from the final escape. I wondered if Luna could really get rid of the scar.

“I’m really sorry that Daniel didn’t make it,” Gwen stated empathically, leaning her head on my shoulder.

I let out a long sigh. “So am I,” I responded. I tried to think about my last little mystical conversation with him in peace; however, the awful sounds of screaming entered my mind. I had a flashback of being pinned down inside the house while Daniel and the others were melted by the Plague. I closed my eyes and shook my head. No…don’t remember that…remember him…remember his smile, damn it. After a few deep breaths, I was able to push it out of my mind – for now – and think about him. But not before tears welled up in my eyes. “At least I still have you, Love,” I responded, able to muster up some hopefulness in my voice.

“If you ever need anything or want to talk…”

“I know…thank you,” I sighed. I leaned my head back against the ship and stared up at the sky, watching the sparse clouds float by and feeling the warm sun bearing down on my thick fur. We were alive. It was going to be hard for a while, but I was sure I’d make it through, especially if Gwen stuck with me. “We made it,” I echoed.

Gwen nuzzled in closer to me with her eyes closed. “Yeah…”

I don’t know how long we stayed like that. I just stared into the sky, playing through the last week in my head. If anyone else had told me this story, I would have thought they were foxed…or outright lying. I even had a hard time believing that we’d done all of those things.

Gwen’s breathing became steady and quiet. I looked down at her and realized she’d fallen asleep. I couldn’t blame her; today had been beyond insane. A large yawn escaped from my mouth. My entire body was exhausted. It didn’t hurt, per se, any more…just tired. That night elf was pretty amazing.

I glanced back down at Gwen. I wonder if she’ll ever be able to heal that easily. I hoped she wouldn’t have to practice on me too often to work on it. I knew I had to cut her some slack; after all, like she said, she’s only nineteen. By the Light, we’re only nineteen. Maybe if I trained, I’d get as good as Lord Crowley one day. My mind was jumping around aimlessly and I quickly became aware of the encroaching fatigue. I took after Gwen’s example, closed my eyes, and easily slipped into sleep.

***

I awoke relatively peacefully, Gwen still leaning against me. The sun was starting to dip beneath the western horizon and the sky was a brilliant orange hue. I started to move, wondering how to get past Gwen without waking her.  She groaned as I stirred and then let out a massive yawn. “That was a good nap,” she commented as she stretched out, nearly elbowing me in the snout.  She hopped up onto her paws and arched her back. “I need to stretch my legs. Think you have the strength to stand?” she invited, offering me her hand.

I took stock of my body. The nap had done me well, though I still felt pretty tired, physically. But I was sure I could manage walking. I nodded and took her hand. With a yank, she hoisted me up. I took a couple of awkward steps as I forced my muscles to remember what walking felt like.

Gwen placed her hand on my shoulder, gently providing some support. “So, I haven’t had a chance to really scope out these elven ships. Why don’t we explore a bit?” she commented.

“Might as well,” I shrugged. I wonder where Luna is. If we see her, I should thank her again. I also wondered what it was that she wanted to talk about.

Together, we walked to the bow of the ship. As we passed by, groups of Gilneans would give us approving nods or other acknowledgements. On one occasion, someone stepped in front of us and started thanking us profusely for fighting for our country. It was a nice little confidence boost to hear their praise. I felt like one of them again.

We reached the bow and gazed out at the ocean beyond the confines of the ship. All around us there were other craft like this one. From here, I could elves, humans, and worgen walking about the decks of the other ships. Thank the Light we were able to save so many. I wonder what ship my father’s on. We turned and surveyed the ship we were on. It was long and flat with the exception of an elevated platform where the captain stood by the helm. Beneath this platform was a door that I assumed would lead down into the belly of the ship. I mostly assumed there had to be more to the ship since Luna was nowhere in sight.

Gwen and I made our way back across to the other end of the ship. My legs were doing well holding me up and moving me along. We passed beneath the mast and sails; I could hear the fabric rustling as a strong wind blew us westward. It was all so peaceful and – for once – I didn’t have this sinking feeling that it was just the calm before the storm.

“So what are we going to do when we get…wherever we’re going?” Gwen asked as we walked.

“I have no idea,” I shrugged. Where are we going, anyway? “I’m sure we’ll find some way to get by.” That was one thing I was sure of. After everything that had happened on Gilneas, I was confident there would be work for Gwen and me. I thought of what Daniel had requested of me: to go on an adventure; help people.

Gwen didn’t say anything after that. I wondered what she was thinking of. What would she think about going on an adventure and seeing more of the world? Or did Gilneas drain her of her adventurous spirit? If I was being totally honest with myself, I wasn’t too keen to get into any more conflict any time soon, but I was wholeheartedly curious of the mysteries that Azeroth held.

We eventually reached the stairs leading up to the helm. We elected not to go up there and disturb the captain and navigator. Instead, we made our way towards the door between the stairs. It opened with the slightest push and led into a small room with a set of ramps on either side leading further down into the ship back the direction we had come.

Gwen and I ventured down the ramp to find a wide chamber. Beautiful lanterns glowed along the wall, casting a pale light reminiscent of the moon’s glow across the room. There were some tables set up in the middle of the room and what looked like bedrolls and barrels stacked against the wall. There were some people down here – mostly Gilneans. I guessed most of the elves preferred to spend their time outside.

A bright sparkling light caught my eye in the far corner and I identified it as the glow from Luna’s staff. Sure enough, she was sitting alone across the room with her back to us.

“Come on,” I stated, nodding forward towards Luna.

Gwen didn’t protest and followed me. We crossed the room quickly, weaving easily between the tables. I came to realize that this ship didn’t sway much on sea; it was so easy to move around. Is it the design? Or did the elves have some sort of enchantment? I blinked a couple of times and pushed the question from my mind. Before long, we were beside Luna.

“Miss Luna,” I greeted. “Would you mind if we sat with you?”

She gazed up at us with her glowing eyes and smiled. “I would welcome the company,” she responded, beckoning to the open seats across the table from her. “Before you sit, why don’t you grab a bite to eat? I am sure you must be hungry after today’s ordeal,” she offered.

As if on cue, my stomach growled ravenously. Not that I could blame it; only a few short hours earlier, there had been a big hole in it. I was sure Gwen was as hungry as I was. Luna informed us where to go for food. There was a goblet in front of her that she occasionally sipped at. Gwen and I went to retrieve a plate of salted meat and a large hunk of bread. Someone had opened a barrel of wine, so we each filled goblets and brought them back with us and sat across from Luna.

“Oh, and it’s just Luna, by the way,” she mentioned as we settled in. “I’m not as big on formalities as some of my kin. How are you feeling? Does everything feel like it is in the right place?” she questioned curiously.

I nodded. “My gut’s a little sore, but I’ve felt much worse,” I assured her. “I wanted to thank you again for what you did to help me,” I stated gratefully before picking up the slab of meat and unceremoniously ripping a chunk off with my sharp teeth. When I realized what I had done, I placed my hand in front of my mouth and looked away. “I’m sorry; that was rude.” My cheeks burned.

Luna laughed – a deep chuckle. “You’ve obviously never dined with a dwarf,” she commented. “Compared to that, your manners are impeccable.” I still felt pretty mortified, though.  She took a drink from her goblet and then gracefully looked away so that I could take another bite. Gwen did not seem nearly as embarrassed as I was and munched greedily on her food.

We ate in silence, for the most part. “So, earlier, you mentioned you wanted to speak with me?” I inquired.

“Yes. I was hoping you could tell me your tale,” Luna responded with a nod.

“My tale?”

“I’d heard rumors of what transpired on Gilneas, but I wanted to hear the full story. That is, if you’re willing to tell it,” she elaborated.

I looked down at the table. Am I ready to talk about it? I couldn’t deny that it was constantly on my mind, but I didn’t know if I was ready to put it all into words. But she was so helpful. I owe it to her, don’t I? I knew that I would have to talk about it eventually.

“Why do you want to know?” Gwen blurted out. I kicked her. She leaned close and whispered, “I don’t know if that’s such a good idea. You shouldn’t have to go through it again.”

“I didn’t mean to intrude. I simply enjoy these types of tales,” Luna responded. With ears like those, did she hear what Gwen said to me? “Of course, I understand how painful it can be to talk about at times, so I will not press the issue.”

I cleared my throat. “It’s a long story and not one that I think I would be able to tell all of tonight,” I mentioned. “Before I start, though…would you mind if I asked you a little bit about yourself?”

“Ask away.”

“Well, I guess that was my question. You carry yourself a little differently from some of the others of your race that I’ve met,” I pointed out.

“Ah, well…yes, I suppose these robes and all would probably make me stand out. For several years, I was an adventurer. I had met several companions and we journeyed together throughout Azeroth, helping wherever help was needed.” Luna let out a long sigh. “We had many exciting adventures, some of which you may be familiar with.”

“Oh?”

“Well, we were part of the forces sent into Blackwing Lair to fight the black dragon, Nefarian. Had you heard about that?” I shook my head. “How about the campaign to put the Old God, C’thun back to sleep beneath the sands of Ahn’Qiraj?”

“I think I saw something mentioned about that in one of my books,” I responded. I’m so dumb.

“Well, it is possible our deeds were not as well-known as I was led to believe,” Luna laughed, though I could pick up on a hint of disappointment in her voice.

“No…it’s just that we weren’t taught much about the outside world,” I claimed. “All I had were some books my father brought me from his trading voyages. So, it’s probably more my ignorance than anything,” I assured her, hopeful to restore what confidence I may have hit with my responses. “What happened to your companions?”

She looked away for a moment, despondently. “Around the time of the second opening of the Dark Portal, things changed. Some of were slain in the campaign into the Outlands. Others just…disappeared. It was never the same and those of us that were left decided it would be best to disband our group. I’m sure there are still a few of them left out there, but I have not seen or heard from them in years,” she explained. Though her voice maintained the calm intonation typical of her race, I could hear pain in it.

“What have you been doing since then?” I inquired curiously.

“I have mostly been traveling on my own, drifting from country to country and offering my services as a healer to those that required such assistance. It was by happenstance that I was in my homeland when the call went out to send aid to Gilneas,” Luna replied. “That, or the Grace of Elune,” she added with a mysterious smirk.

That sounds like such a lonely existence. At least I had Gwen with me throughout the last week. I wondered if she ever connected with any of the people she came across in her travels. But that was not really any of my business. “How about we make a deal? I’ll tell you my story if you tell me more of yours. I don’t really know anything about those conflicts you mentioned, but I’d like to. I want to know about the world,” I proposed hopefully. I can bear it. I was sure of that, and this might help me figure things out.

“Are you sure?” Gwen checked cautiously.

“It’ll be fine. And come on; what else are we going to do while we’re on this ship?” I pointed out before turning my attention back to Luna. “What do you say?”

“It is a deal.”

I spent the rest of the night starting to recount my account of the attack on Gilneas. I decided to start with the beginning, when the worgen first attacked and I became infected. Of course, I tried to avoid mentioning Daniel as much as possible. Each time I came close, my nose and eyes began to sting and I had to take a moment before continuing. I knew Gwen noticed. I wondered if Luna did, but she didn’t ask. By the time I got to the final stand at Light’s Dawn and the curse took hold, I was having trouble keeping my eyes open.

Luna instructed us to grab a bed roll and mentioned we could set it up on the upper deck. She didn’t look too tired, herself. “Until tomorrow, Elune-adorei,” she wished us as we turned to leave. We bade her good night and marched across the room and up the ramp.

Gwen and I found an empty section of the deck and rolled the cushioned cloth out. I glanced over a moment later to discover that Gwen had shamelessly stripped down to nothing but her fur. Shaking my head, I went about removing some of the excess armor pieces; unlike her, I was unwilling to remove the breastplate. Luckily, I was wearing underwear beneath the plate pants, so I was able to remove those.

The night air was cool, but I was fairly warm; the fur helped with that. I laid out on top of the mat and stared up at the stars the shimmered in the sky above us. Part of me still couldn’t believe we had made it. I couldn’t believe that there wasn’t something potentially waiting to kill me in the night. It was also my first night without Daniel in the last week. The first of many… I let out a long, drawn-out, aggravated sigh. Why does my brain keep going back there?

I didn’t stay awake for much longer. My brain was fighting it, continually reminding me of what I’d lost. But, in the end, my body’s exhaustion won out and I slipped into a peaceful slumber to the rhythm of the gentle rocking of the ship.

***

Throughout the next few days, Gwen and I spent most of our waking hours with Luna. Each day, she worked some of her magic on my belly and the scar dwindled. It took me the better part of two days to completely retell the events of the last week. Gwen chimed in from time to time, particularly when she noticed I was having a difficult time avoiding mention of Daniel.

Some days were easier than others, but I had periods where I couldn’t stop myself crying. During these times, Luna would very gracefully excuse herself and allow Gwen to console me in peace. But then, once I had collected myself, we tracked down Luna again to continue our conversations.

True to our agreement, Luna began telling us stories of her own adventures once I had finished telling her mine. She had led a fascinating life so far. She described – in amazing detail – when she and her past companions fought their way through the Blackwing Lair and Molten Core, both hidden deep in Blackrock Mountain. She entertained us by recounting the war against the Quiraji guarding C’thun in the ancient temple in southern Silithus. These were places I had only seen mentioned in books or on maps of Azeroth. It was mystifying and almost allowed me to forget all of my lingering sorrow.

As the voyage continued, I began to feel antsy. I asked where we were headed, wracking my brain for the location of the night elf homeland. Luna would only smile and told me to be patient.  It became more and more difficult, but at least Luna had a seemingly endless supply of interesting stories to tell from her travels.

After what must have been at least a week – I honestly lost count of the days – land came into view just southwest of us. It was the continent of Kalimdor and our fleet of transports was sailing over the northern tip. What’s on the northwestern side of the continent? I wished I had studied the maps more. There was some sort of large island – I thought – off the coast. It stood out in my mind because of how strangely it was drawn on the map – with little tendrils shooting out of it in all directions. Maybe I would figure out why if that was where we were headed.

My attention was drawn to the rocks and high cliffs that seemed to speed by south of us as we sailed further west. They wall-like mountains shot up into the sky. What’s on the other side of the cliffs? I tried to visualize what the landscape might be like. Gwen and I leaned out over the bannister in awe while Luna stood by, regaling us with another story. I was trying to listen, but my thoughts kept distracting me. Eventually, the cliffs began to descend. I started to see trees peeking over the edge of the rocks.

“Are we getting close?” I asked, somewhat impatiently. We had been on this ship for so long. I needed to get out and move around. I needed to plant my paws on something different than wood. “We must be getting close to the shore.”

“We’re not going to the mainland,” Luna answered.

“What?”

“We’re going…there.”

I glanced at her face; she was staring off ahead of the ship and I followed her gaze. My jaw dropped and hung open. Off in the distance was a massive, dark pillar. And by massive, I meant truly gargantuan. Even from this distance, I estimated it had to be at least a hundred miles wide. Whatever it was, it shot into the sky and disappeared into the clouds. “Wh-what is that?” I stammered.

“Teldrassil,” Luna responded matter-of-factly. “The Crown of the Earth.” That had to be the ‘island’ that I remembered from the maps.

“But…what is it?” Gwen repeated.

“Many years ago, when the Burning Legion attacked Nordrassil, the Crown of the Heavens…the World Tree, we Kal’dorei decided to expend Nordrassil’s power to kill the demon commander, Archimonde. In doing so, we lost our immortality. So, the druids banded together to try to create a new World Tree. Teldrassil never bestowed the gifts of its predecessor, but it has proven a peaceful and resilient home for us.”

“That’s…a tree?” I blurted out incredulously. I didn’t know what I thought it could be, but I would have never guessed it was a tree.

“Indeed it is.” Luna proceeded to explain more about it. It was fascinating and my excitement rose as we approached Teldrassil. The closer we get, the more I could tell it was, in fact, an absolutely massive tree. Roots wider than the Light’s Dawn Cathedral jutted out of the side and plummeted into the sea.

“Is there an island under it?” I asked.

“Not exactly. There is a small village at the base of Teldrassil, but our destination is at the top,” Luna explained.

“But how?”

“Now, I don’t want to spoil all of the surprises, now do I?”

I had trouble staying still as we approached our destination. When we were only a mile or so away, I craned my neck to stare up the side of the tree. I can’t even see the crown. How high up does it go? Where are the leaves? I wondered how wide the branches shot out. Something like that…it could cover half a continent! It’d been years since I was so irrationally excited about something; I felt like a child again. I can’t wait to tell… And with that, I brought myself back down.

There was a small patch of land at the base of the tree. Well, small compared to the tree itself. When it came down to it, it would have been a fairly sizeable island. There were docks leading to a series of funny-looking buildings. The architecture mimics that of the ships with lots of arches made of dark wood. Some of the larger buildings were not completely enclosed; but rather they had entire walls missing, exposing the interior to the weather. The night elves really had a thing for open structures. I also noticed that they seemed to prefer using ramps instead of stairs when possible.

I could see elves moving around between the buildings – a regular town filled with regular inhabitants. These elves were not adorned in any armor, but rather wore simple but elegant clothing and gowns. It was all so peaceful, especially compared to what I was used to back in Gilneas. It all just looked so…safe.

There were only a couple of open docks, so the ships had to move in one-by-one to unload the passengers. We were middle-of-the-pack at best. I my excitement returned at the prospects of finally being able to make port. I couldn’t wait to see my father again and let him know I was okay.

After what felt like forever, it was our ship’s turn to pull into the dock. I had no idea where the other ships were headed; but at this point, I didn’t really care. Gwen and I gently pushed our way to the front. I made sure to clutch my sword close to me; it was the one thing I had left to remind me of Daniel and I was not going to lose it in the crowd.

As soon as the edge of the ship came into jumping range of the dock, Gwen and I leapt off, landing easily on the wood below. We walked briskly along the deck towards the village. I could see groups of Gilneans wandering further in, possibly trying to figure out where they should go. They were moving slowly, but they seemed to have some sense of direction.

My eyes darted around, looking for my father. He has to be here somewhere! Did something happen to him on the other ship? They would have told me, right? My heart was starting to pound inside my chest.

“Naomi!” his familiar voice called. My ears shot up excitedly the moment I heard it. I turned towards the source and found him running over to me from across the dock. He nearly slammed into me as he wrapped his arms around me. “Thank the Light. They told me you had been injured. I was so worried about you!”

I wasn’t sure what to say, so I just hugged him back. “I’m okay,” I finally responded. It felt like an enormous pressure had lifted off my shoulders. I’m okay. The realization hadn’t yet ceased to bring me a sense of calm. “Where’s Mayor Armstead?” I asked curiously. I guess I assumed she would have been with him.

“Gwen has already headed into the city with the King,” he responded. For a moment, I looked over at my Gwen before recalling that it was also Lady Armstead’s first name. “I told her I would wait here for you.”

“It sure was a long trip, wasn’t it?”

“I’ve been on worse, but given the circumstance, it felt much longer. You’ll have to tell me what happened back at Keel Harbor.”

“I’m sure it will make for quite the heroic tale,” another familiar voice mentioned. Krennan walked up beside us, staring up at the monstrous tree. “So this is it…our new home. I’m not sure if I’ll ever feel like I truly have a home again,” he mentioned distantly. My ears fell. Now that he mentions it… He shook his head. “I’m sorry. We mustn’t be unappreciative of what the night elves have offered us. Their race is not one to throw out idle welcomes to just anyone.” I thought about Luna. She was pretty welcoming, but she did have her ways that set her apart from her kin. But, the others weren’t…unhelpful. “It is a true testament to faith and generosity that they’ve taken us in,” he declared with approval.  “I hear they’re preparing something special for us.”

“Something special? Like what?” I wondered aloud.

“You should ask King Greymane that. I believe he and the Mayor headed into the city proper,” Krennan advised.

I looked around. That was the second time I had heard them refer to a city, but this didn’t really fit the description. Luna said the destination was at the top. “And how do we get there?”

“I could escort you,” Luna offered, finally walking up behind us. “I was going to offer earlier but you disembarked so quickly.”

We accepted and followed her up the road. My mind was running wild, trying to figure out just how we were going to get where we were going. Were they going to put us on another one of those hippogryphs? I wasn’t sure I would be able to stand that, especially with how high we would have to go.

At the top of the hill, there was a strange formation of roots creating a sort of canopy. Beneath it was a strange pinkish mist that glowed, casting an entrancing light on the underside of the roots and the ground. Luna turned around as we approached. “All you need to do is walk through,” she explained. “Welcome, friends, to the city of Darnassus.” With that, Luna stepped into the canopy and her body disappeared immediately upon entering the enigmatic, luminescent cloud.

I glanced at Gwen and my father. “Shall we?” They agreed. I hope this doesn’t hurt. After a deep breath, I closed my eyes and stepped forward into the mist. Warmth washed over me for a moment and a loud noise – similar to a violent gust of wind – momentarily deafened me. Then, there was relative silence. I could feel a gentle breeze caressing my fur.

“Whoa!” I gasped as I opened my eyes. The city before me was glorious. There were beautiful buildings everywhere, carved out of dark wood with ornate designs and arches like I’ve seen with the other night elf structures. Trees shot up all around – though, I suppose they’re really just branches, aren’t they? Buildings were carved directly into some of the bigger ones, with spiraling ramps winding up their sides.

We stood on a small island and a calm stream ran all around us and snaked throughout the city. Shimmering stone bridges connected the pieces of land and were covered by beautiful, white-stone gazebos.

In the distance, off to the right of us, was a magnificent temple made of the same white stone as the bridges and gazeebos. It towered over the rest of the city and was easily the size of an entire district of Gilneas city, if not larger.  The top of the temple was a giant dome made of pale-blue glass, from the looks of it.

Straight ahead of us was a large, bulbous tree…branch…thing. Luna marched across the bridge towards it and then drifted off down the trail to the left. As we followed and circled around it, I got a good view of the rest of the city. There was a massive, beautiful, white bridge that lead straight to an awe-inspiring gate in the distance. The masterfully etched pillars and arches were astounding to behold. Tall buildings rose in the distance and I could see light from lanterns shining through the windows. I had never seen such a beautiful and perfect blend of nature and craftsmanship in my life.

I happened to turn towards the thick branch-tree we were walking around – taking in the sights – and then stopped. I blinked a couple of times to ensure I was seeing correctly. The tree had grown – or was shaped by some other hand – into the form of a large bear. Large, stone lanterns hung from it, casting a comforting glow all around. At the base of the tree was what looked like some kind of commerce center or vault.

I felt a hand on my shoulder and I jumped. “There will be time to see the city,” Luna assured me. “But, for now, I wish to reunite you with your people.”

I nodded and fell in behind her.                “This place is…” I started at a whisper as I walked beside Gwen.

“Phenomenal,” she concluded in the same wondrous tone. I could only imagine how she felt about this city as a druid.

We stepped onto one of the bridges. I couldn’t help but notice how smooth the stone felt on my paws, compared to the uneven cobblestone roads I was used to. Everything about this place is so…pleasant. I could hear the whispers of the stream beneath the bridge and an immense sense of peace washed over me. I felt alive and – dare I say – content.

As we stepped down from the bridge on the other side, we came across a large gathering of particularly sizeable tree-houses. Gwen stopped and stared at them. I called to Luna and turned to check on Gwen. What’s gotten into her? She looked absolutely entranced. I followed her gaze; the buildings were very neat and unique, but there was nothing particularly fascinating about it compared to everything else around us. A short, animated tree marched past us, its wooden face set ahead as if ignoring us. My eyes followed it for a moment. That’s so much more interesting than these houses. What’s gotten into Gwen?

“What is it?” I wondered. Again, I followed her eyes. They were fixated on the entry-way to the centermost building, leading inside the giant, hollowed-out tree.

Gwen cocked her head to the side. “I feel something…something…” she mentioned before trailing off. Luna walked up to us. “Luna…what is this place? I can feel…power,” she commented.

“This is the Cenarion Enclave, where the druidic order of the Kal’dorei congregate,” Luna explained matter-of-factly. “It is of no surprise you can feel the natural energy that flows from there.”

“Would they…teach me?” she inquired, eyes still focused on the door. I thought back to when I had taunted her about inability to raise the trees back before the assault on the airship. I hope she doesn’t feel like I was seriously belittling her.

“I am sure they would,” Luna replied. “But you will not find them there now. They are further on ahead.  Shall we?” she urged again.

“I reckon the king will want to talk to you two,” my father pointed out, somewhat impatiently. “I think it would be best not to keep him waiting.”

Giving Gwen a little tug, I managed to get her to step away from there. “Hey, Luna. Do you know anywhere I might be able to get a little bit of weapon training?” I asked as we walked past that area.

“The Warrior’s Terrace sits at the base of the gate to Darnassus. There would surely be someone there who could help you refine your technique,” she explained.

“Thank you; I’ll have to check it later.” We continued walking past more of the elven structures and tree-buildings for quite some time. This city was huge!  Finally, we came to a relatively empty section of city. It was a wide, open field with a single tree in the center. There was a large crowd gathered around the tree. That’s where Luna was leading us.

I couldn’t help but notice the tree seemed to be glowing. And growing larger. As it grew in size, it began to resemble something oddly familiar: Tal’doren. A mystical waterfall began to pour down the side, creating a sparkling mote that turned into a stream leading into the river that weaved through the city. Close to the base of the tree was a circle of robed night elves. They seemed to be chanting something and holding out glowing hands towards the tree.

Luna brought us to the group of waiting Gilneans, all whose awe-struck faces mirrored my own. “This is where I leave you,” Luna announced. “It was a pleasure, Naomi Malmin and Gwen Forrestier, to have had the opportunity to trade adventures with you. May Elune allow our paths to cross again.”

I blinked a few times as my mind processed what she had said. “You’re leaving?” I asked in disappointment.

“Indeed. I intend to return to my journey, but I need to gather some supplies before the next ship leaves for Darkshore tonight,” she explained. After another short exchange, Luna excused herself and glided away.

Light, please let us see her again. I hoped my silent prayer would be answered. She was a truly interesting elf.

“What’s all of this, then?” I heard my father ask, staring at the tree.

“I’m not too sure,” I replied, gazing throughout the crowd. I caught side of King Greymane. He was standing beside the queen and Princess Tess. It was then I realized that I had not seen either of them since Greymane Manor. Had they been kept away from the battle?

As I thought about the battle, I surveyed the crowd again. The number of Gilneans left had to only be in the thousands now, and most of them were worgen now. It would be hard for the country to continue on with so few people.

I tried to push that from my mind and moved through the crowd, Gwen and my father following behind me. I marched up to the royal family and bowed with respect.

King Greymane smiled at me, though I could see sorrow set firmly on his aging face. “Light be praised. I’m glad you lot made it out of Gilneas. Our people owe you a debt that I don’t think can ever be repaid.”

I shuffled uncomfortably. “It was nothing,” I muttered, unable to think of anything else to say.

“It wasn’t nothing. You’ve sacrificed so much.”

I looked away as my mind drifted to Daniel. I have to distract myself. “What’s going on here?”

“The druids are growing this great oak from a seed taken back on Gilneas. It stands for all that we’ve endured, and all that we’ve accomplished. And when its roots merge with Teldrassil, it will solidify the bond between us and the night elves. May it serve to remind us that our curse is also our blessing,” he explained. “The night elves were gracious enough to provide us with this land within their city. Here, we will build a home for our people. I imagine some will spread out, but until our people can reclaim our rightful home, we will establish our hearth beneath the Howling Oak.”

“What chance have we to reclaim Gilneas?” I wondered aloud.

“Darius and his daughter are already working on it.”

“What?”

“They stayed behind with Crowley’s soldiers in the hopes of establishing a foothold with which to allow us to reclaim our home. The Alliance will send reinforcements; and when they do, it would be helpful for them to have a secure place to land.”

They stayed behind? My stomach squirmed. They should have gotten out like the rest of us. They shouldn’t have stayed!

“I have an offer I would like to present you,” the king announced, snapping me out of it. “You have done so much for our people back on Gilneas. You have proven yourself again and again as both an able fighter and a loyal friend. What would you say to being appointed the official ambassador for Gilneas?”

My heart skipped a beat. “I…” I trailed off. Ambassador? Me? I felt grossly underqualified. I didn’t really know anything about politics. “Thank you, sir, but I’ll have to decline,” I finally said. “Politics once tore our people apart. I want the freedom to help the people without having to worry about that,” I elaborated. “I don’t know what I’ll do yet, but…I think I would rather be able to make that decision on my own.”

The king’s face fell. “I can’t say I’m not disappointed, but I respect your decision.” He set his hand on my shoulder. “You let me know if you change your mind and want a more active role in my court.”

“I will, sir, thanks.”

Before long, the druids finished their work and the oak was fully grown. The crowd began to dissipate; some of them wandered inside the tree to inspect the shelter. But, really, there wouldn’t be much to do until the elves delivered the lumber they had promised for the people to build their new housing. My father found Lady Armstead and they carried on a conversation of their own. I couldn’t help but notice he made a point of always staying within sight of me.

As the day began to turn to night, we received unexpected visitors. Two magnificent night elves approached us. The first was a woman with long, flowing blue hair. Leaves and strings of jewels were intertwined with her silky locks. She wore an elaborate, beautiful white dress that was ornamented with lines of tiny blue crystals, similar to the ones that were embedded on the shimmering silver bracelets that ran up and down her arms. A thin, sparkling tiara sat upon her head. She glided along the ground with a mystifying grace and dignity.

The other was a tall man with an impressive green beard that equaled the length of the woman’s hair. Two massive stag horns seemed to be growing directly out of the top of his head. He was shirtless, with detailed tattoos showing along his chest. There were eagle feathers coming off of his arm; it was hard for me to tell if they were actually part of him or if they were part of his clothing. He wore a bear-skin kilt around his legs. He walked with a commanding presence, contrasting the more subtle, but still unassailable air about the woman.

“Good evening,” the night elf woman greeted as she approached King Greymane directly.

To my surprise, the king bowed before this woman. “Priestess Tyrande!” he gasped. “We did not expect you. Good evening.”

She gazed around at the groups of Gilneans that had stuck around. Her eyes rested on me for a moment.  “I hope my people have been welcoming to you. These are burdened times, so I fear much may be competing with their good graces.” So she must be one of the leaders of the night elves. Who is this other guy?

“Not at all, priestess. We are very grateful for all that you’ve offered us here,” the king responded quickly. “Truly.”

Tyrande paused for a moment and smiled. “When we spoke previously, you offered to repay the favor. I may have to act on that sooner than I would have liked,” she began.

“Name it.”

“There is trouble at Lor’danel, a village of ours across the waters from Rut’theran. If any of your people can be spared, I fear war encroaching upon us in Kalimdor. When it does, I would prefer the armies of our enemies did not encounter a village full of wounded civilians.”

King Greymane’s eyes jumped to Gwen and I and I knew what was coming before he said it. “I know the perfect people for such a task. I will send them immediately, my Lady,” he offered.

“Thank you, Genn,” the night elf man chimed in with a wise, strong voice. “I am glad to see such poise and composure from your people.” He cleared his throat. “Perhaps the curse does not define you after all.”

“Malfurion,” Tyrande scolded. “Of all people you should be able to see that.”

“I took no offense,” King Greymane assured them.

“I am glad. We will take our leave, then. Again, welcome to you all.”

With that, the two night elves strode away. As I expected, King Greymane swiftly approached us. “I know you wanted to figure things out on your terms, but I must ask for your help. Our people are scattered and weary. The two of you are the most able-bodied Gilneans I can think of at the present moment.”

The training will have to wait. I looked over at Gwen. “What do you say? Think you can handle another adventure?” I asked her.

She stretched out. “It couldn’t be worse than fighting the Forsaken, am I right?” she pointed out.

“It looks like we’re in.”

“Wonderful. You must travel back down to Rut’theran Village, where we first arrived. There, you should be able to secure a ride to Lor’danel, on the coast of Darkshore. If I heard correctly down on the docks, the next ship will leave at twilight so that it will arrive by morning. Once there, aid the night elves in any way that you are able. I am trusting that you will treat them with the reverence that they deserve in light of all that they have done for us.”

“Of course,” I replied. Why did he feel the need to say that? King Greymane found one of his servants and sent them off to collect some supplies for our journey. “What will you be doing?” I asked out of nowhere. “Will you be staying here to oversee the construction of our district?”

He shook his head. “I must make plans to travel to the distant city of Stormwind to meet with King Varian. We will have much to talk about and it is a necessary step in sending aid to our brethren who still fight for our home. I hope to see your faces again very soon. Until then, a fond farewell.”

The king left us standing there to return his attention to his family and to prepare for his own trip. Gwen and I made our way over to where my father was seated with Lady Armstead.

“Daddy, I need to talk to you,” I stated cautiously as we approached. How will he react to this? We went through so much not so long ago. I bet he’ll be mad.

A concerned look flashed across his face and he stood up. So did Lady Armstead. “What is it?” he asked, matching my tone. I told him of the king’s request. His face twisted with frustration. “He’s sending you out there again?”

“It’s not like that,” I cut in quickly. “He asked us and…we said yes.”

“Why, Naomi? Why would you put yourself back in danger? After everything that happened? After you lost Daniel?”

“Because it’s what I want,” I declared, more than annoyed that he’d try to use Daniel against me. I took a deep breath. “It’s what Daniel wanted for me. Daddy…you know how badly I’ve always wanted to see the world. And there are people who are in trouble who need help. I can actually do something.” I glanced over at Gwen. “We could actually do something.”

My father’s body was shaking, but I could see he was thinking about it. “I can’t…let you.”

“You can’t stop me,” I nearly snarled at him. It wasn’t a threat; merely a statement.

My father let out a long, drawn-out sigh. “All I ever wanted for you was for you to be safe. But I knew early on that you were never going to be satisfied with the quiet life,” he commented, his tone telling me he had already conceded. He turned his eyes to Gwen. “Keep an eye on her. Don’t let her get into too much trouble.”

“I won’t let anything happen to her,” Gwen promised, stepping forward. “From what it sounds like, there was some accident across the channel and the elves need some relief. Nothing dangerous.”

“And nothing’s killed me yet,” I pointed out.

“They’ve gotten close a few times,” he reminded and I shuffled a little bit. “But you’re right…if you’re intent on going, I can’t stop you.”

I grinned. “I swear I won’t do anything too cork-brained,” I vowed. “Thank you, Daddy.”

“Just don’t forget about me,” he requested.

“What do you think you’ll do?” I wondered. “Are you going to settle down here?”

He shook his head. “I’m a ship’s captain, by trade. I think I’ll try to work my way back into that capacity,” he responded, letting out another long sigh. “My place is on a ship, seeing the world. I think that’s one thing I accidentally passed on to you.”

“So, really, you’re the one to blame,” I joked.

“Maybe, someday, if I get going again, I’ll have the opportunity to ferry you around on one of your adventures.”

I nodded. “I’d like that.” I turned my attention to Lady Armstead. “Are you planning on going along with him?”

“I’ve not decided. With King Greymane traveling to meet with the leaders of the Alliance and Lord Crowley leading the war for Gilneas, someone needs to step up to lead our people here. Hopefully, the people still look up to me.”

“They certainly respected you before.” I thought through all of the events from Duskhaven to Keel Harbor. “You led them to safety and I’m sure they’ll keep following you.”

The four of us talked for a little while longer. My father and I arranged a system to keep in contact so that he’d know I was still alive. Before long, the king’s servant returned with a large pack full of supplies for us. I didn’t look through what was in there, but it was fairly heavy.

“Well, we had better be off,” I declared, noting the sky was darkening. Luna had mentioned that the next ship was leaving some time tonight. I threw the pack over my shoulder.

“Take care, both of you,” my father wished us warmly, stepping forward to hug us both.

“We will. I love you, Daddy.”

“Stay safe. There will come a day that everyone knows your name,” Lady Armstead mentioned, her voice filled with both admiration and pride.

“We can only hope,” Gwen cut in. I wondered what it would be like to be famous. I think I got a bit of a taste for that back in Gilneas.

Gwen and I said our final farewells to my father before walking away back towards the rest of Darnassus. We passed the Cenarion Enclave as we reached the stone bridge. “I’m sorry to keep you from meeting with the other druids,” I commented, the area sparking my memory.

Gwen shrugged. “There will be time later,” she mentioned. “After all, we’re still young.’

“I do want to take some time and get more formal training with how to wield a weapon,” I stated. Especially because my sparring partner is…No; stop. “What do you think happened at Lor’danel?” I wanted to change the subject.

Gwen shrugged again. “You’ve got me. I don’t know anything about what’s going on in this world. Could be anything.”

We kept chatting as we approached the misty portal. Together, we stepped through and quickly found ourselves down in the peaceful coastal village. In the distance, I could see a ship in one of the docks. From here, it looked like they were still resupplying.

We hurried through the village towards the ship. We called out to a dockhand as we reached the wood of the pier. “Excuse me, sir,” I apologized to the tall night elf man with stunning green hair. “Is this the ship for Lor’danel?”

“It is. It should be leaving within the hour,” he responded. We thanked him and let him get back to his task.

“So we meet again,” a calm voice commented behind us. I spun around and found Luna standing there, glowing staff in one hand and cradling a full sack of supplies in her other. “Are you two bound for Darkshore, as well?”

“I…think so?” I responded. “We were asked to make our way to Lor’danel to help out.”

“Then we are indeed traveling similar paths,” she affirmed.

I thought through Luna’s past as she had told it to us. She sounded so lonely over the last few years after her companions dispersed. I remembered how excited she seemed – which was hard to pick up on given her normally calm demeanor – while we talked on the ship. “Why don’t we stick together?” I proposed.

She smiled. “I would be more than honored to accompany you.”

So it was decided. The three of us – the Warrior, the Druid, and the Priest – stepped onto the deck of the ship bound for the mainland. I had no idea what we were heading into, but my experiences in my home nation led me to believe that I was prepared. And if anything got too rough, I had Gwen and Luna to drag me out.

As the ship pulled away from the dock, I reflected back on my life so far. I still had trouble believing how I had changed from a relatively normal girl to what I was today: not just that I was a worgen, but also the feats I’d accomplished. Gilneas had fallen, but I had risen from the ruins. I thought about the words Daniel had given me in our brief meeting beneath the Light. I had only begun to make a name for myself.

A new journey awaits.

The Fall of Gilneas

End.

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The Fall of Gilneas – Chapter 19: One Big Orc

The Fall of Gilneas

Chapter 19: One Big Orc

Aderic’s Repose was not terribly far from Keel Harbor. After rounding a hill, the houses of the small harbor town came into view. Of course, that meant the forge where I had first met Daniel. I stopped as we came across it and stared at the dark, quiet structure. My eyes started to sting as memories flooded back in. I remembered the moment my father sent me here to commission a new sword – the day I met him.

My father and Gwen came to a stop after a couple extra steps and turned to me. “Naomi… let’s…let’s keep moving,” Gwen urged.

I took a deep breath and turned while closing my eyes, trying to push the building from my mind. The only thing that dwelling on it would accomplish would be riling me up. I heard the distant sounds of a battle coming from the west, somewhere on the headlands beyond the harbor. There were some strange creaking and roaring noises that were unlike anything I’d ever heard.

As we approached the harbor, I instantly noticed a small fleet of very strange ships. They had pale blue sails, an open, flat deck, and a purple-accent on the hull. There were ornate arches and round lanterns all over them. The ships reminded me of the structures that jutted out from Tal’doren.

Beyond the harbor, I had a clear view of the massive gap that had been ripped open on the Greymane Wall. The symbolism of the country being ripped in half was not lost on me. My attention was drawn towards the docks. I could see Darius standing near the docks where one of those strange ships waited. There were some Gilneans standing around.

But they weren’t alone. There was a medium-sized force of night elves in the harbor. There were two distinct types of them: there were men and women wearing earthen-colored robes, and a large group of women wearing little more than metal bikinis and carrying glaives with three blades. There were also several large, strange-looking war machines. There were stacks of giant saw-like blades loaded onto them.

Darius flashed us a wide grin as we approached. “It’s good to see you again, Naomi,” he greeted; I could hear a cautious edge to his tone, but I appreciated him acting like it was just another day. “The night elves made good on their promise. They’ve brought ships and are ready to offer us sanctuary in their lands. Unfortunately, the Forsaken’s allies have arrived as well,” he told us. He jerked his head to the northwest and I followed his gesture. The massive air-ship I had seen in at Greymane Manor was floating over the only way out of the harbor. There were huge cannons visible along the hull that was suspended between the two giant blimps. “The orcs are advancing upon us while the Horde gunship prevents the transport ships from taking our people to safety.”

“Then what do we do? How are we supposed to fight off another army? What if the Forsaken come from the east, too?” I asked incredulously.

“The druids are holding the enemy back, but they won’t last forever. Fortunately, the elven ships were carrying glaive throwers. They were just unloaded and are being prepared to roll against the orcs,” he explained. As he spoke, the night elf warrior women – the sentinels – began to move their siege engines west. “Go see if there’s anything you can do to help from the back line, but don’t get directly involved in the battle. You’ve done too much today for me to send you straight at the orcish horde.”

I let out a sigh to try to hide my frustration. More battles. At least I had permission not to get involved directly. This time, I’m going to take advantage of that. I turned to my father. “Gwen and I are going to go check it out,” I declared. “Please wait here.”

“But, Naomi,” he began to protest.

I shook my head. “I’m not losing someone else today,” I declared. If something came at us, at least Gwen and I could move fast enough to escape. “I’m not going to be fighting, but I need to know that at least you’re safe.”

He stared back at me for a moment. While he did, I began to feel strange. I was talking to my father like I was his parent. I wondered if he felt the same way. I was sure he knew that he wouldn’t be able to stop me from going, though. “You had better not get yourself into any more trouble. You’re my little girl and I can’t lose you again.”

I shifted guiltily. You selfish idiot. You have to remember what you do to people. Finally, I nodded and promised that I wouldn’t go searching for trouble. I hoped that I would, for once, be able to keep that promise.

I made eye contact with Gwen. “Come on; at the very least, we’ll see something worth remembering,” I invited.

“Okay, but I’m with your dad on this one,” she announced, walking forward. We made our way west through the town. “After all, I’m tired of digging you out of the grave you keep jumping into,” she added after we were out of earshot of my father.

We picked up the pace, our paws slapping against the smooth stone of the road. Before long, we caught up with the night elf forces escorting the glaive throwers. After another couple of blocks, we reached the far end of Keel Harbor, giving us a clear view of the Southern Headlands.

I came to a halt and stared in awe of what I was witnessing. The battle was very, very different from anything I’d been in so far. The green-skinned orcs charged across the fields – they were far more muscular and heavily armored than the undead troops that I was so used to fighting. Their armor was red and adorned with twisted spikes. They also traveled in smaller attack forces. Some of them rode on the back of massive wolves. I could hear their battle cries from here.

But the most awe-inspiring thing were the night elves that fought back. The sentinels that had engaged the orcs directly danced around the battlefield with a grace that was unmatched by anything I’d ever witnessed. Sure the worgen were fast and able to dodge strikes, but they had turned it into an art.

Then there were the trees. The source of the creeking and roaring I’d heard earlier became apparent. Enormous, animated trees trudged across the battlefield, their legs the size of the tree trunks from the Blackwald. These trees were vaguely humanoid in shape and I could even see faces protruding from beneath their leafy crown. The giant trees swung into forces of orcs, crushing them with ease using their huge bodies.

“Where did those things come from?” I gasped, unable to take my eyes off them for long.

“They’re ancient protectors,” Gwen stated. “The leaders of my order used to talk about them. Powerful druids can call upon the spirits of the forest to rise and fight by their side. I never knew of any that could actually do it, though,” she explained, the awe in her voice matching my own.

“Can you?”

“Of course not!” she responded, sounding almost defensive.

“Well why not?” My wonder at these marvelous creatures had brought back a little bit of my playful side – a side I had feared would be gone forever.

“Because I’m nineteen,” she declared.

“And you spent more time running around as a cat than actually studying your lessons,” I added.

“Yeah…that too,” she commented airily.

Suddenly, one of the ancients burst into flames as a deafening explosion drowned out the other sounds of battle. “What in the…?” A moment later, I noticed the source of the blast. The orcs had their own siege weapons. They were large, wooden catapults that fired fiery projectiles towards the night elves.

“That’s not good,” I heard Gwen comment.

We rushed forward and approached one of the sentinels near a glaive thrower. “Excuse me, is there anything we can do to help?” I asked, keeping my eyes on the headlands. If those catapults get much closer, they could bombard the harbor.

The night elf glanced at us for only a moment. “We have the battle on the ground under control,” she assured us with a calm voice. The sentinel was helping adjust the angle and positioning of the thrower. Suddenly, it fired, hurly several of the brutal saws out onto the battlefield – whistling as they cut through the air. They rained down on one of the catapults, slicing through the supports. The orcish war machine just sort of fell apart.

The other glaive throwers opened up, sending a volley of deadly blades into the orc forces. The night elves that were near the front line dodged and dashed out of the way as the orcs got torn apart. More of the orcish siege engines were disassembled by the night elves weapons.

Then, a salvo of cannon fire tore up a large section of the battlefield to our right. A thick cloud of dust and smoke obscured our view, but I knew that the glaive throwers that had been over there were gone. The airship had decided to support the troops from where it hovered over the bay.

“We have to take care of the Horde gunship,” the sentinel pointed out, her voice actually sounding exasperated. It was quite the departure from the typically-calm demeanor I had seen from them in my interactions with their race thus far. But, still, I would have been freaking out – I was freaking out. How do they hold their composure like that? She looked back at us. “You’d better get out of here before that thing decides to keep firing on our siege engines.

“But what about you? What about the other elves?” I blurted out.

“We are sentinels of the Kal’dorei and soldiers of the Alliance. We are prepared to give our lives if called to do so in order to protect the innocent. Now go,” she commanded.

I thought about protesting, but I remembered my promise to my father. After a moment, I spun around and led Gwen away. “We’re really going to leave them to fight?” she wondered.

“What would we be able to do to help?” I asked her seriously. She looked away, unable to come up with a response but probably not wanting to admit it. “None of this will matter unless someone sorts out how to take that ship down. It’ll sink all of the transport ships before we even have a chance to make it into open waters.” I started to feel overcome by an acute sense of hopelessness. How are we going to be able to escape? How could we possibly clear the path with that thing commanding the skies?

We returned to the docks to find more Gilneans gathered, huddled together and chattering nervously. They had surely seen the airship and knew we couldn’t get away. Darius approached us. “What’s the news from the front?” he asked.

“There wasn’t anything we could do. The elves are holding off the ground forces for now, but not for long. The orcs flying ship will tear them apart if they can’t bring it down,” I reported frantically. I ran my hands through my hair to try to calm myself. “What are we going to do?”

“We’ve been thinking that through, ourselves,” Darius informed us. “We’ve spoken with some of the elves and I think we’ve come up with a plan. Go find Lorna; she’ll fill you in. She should be over by the edge of the dock,” he commanded, throwing his thumb over his shoulder.

I looked past him and, sure enough, his daughter could be seen on the other end of the dock. She was carrying a wooden crate and followed by several humans who were doing the same. What’s she up to? And why do I get the feeling that I’m going to have to fight again? “Do I…do I have to be part of the plan?” I asked, hoping he would tell me no.

Darius’ face was serious as he nodded. “I’m afraid so. We need our best fighters involved, and there’s no denying you’re up there with the best of us,” he informed me. I was afraid of that. And I really didn’t feel like one of the best. I was reckless and sloppy. I wished I had had more training. As I thought on this, I was instantly reminded of how I had trained in the past – in the woods, alone with Daniel.

No! Now isn’t the time to think about that. My nose and eyes stung as I suppressed the urge to cry again. I have to be strong. I have to survive this for him. “Un…understood,” I finally responded. Without another word, we walked past him and towards Lorna.

“This is absolute shit,” Gwen declared angrily as we walked. “They don’t need us. They can take care of this, themselves.”

“Maybe,” I sighed. “But what if we didn’t help and they failed? We’d all be fucked,” I pointed out. “Let’s at least hear what insane thing they’re going to ask us to do before we get mad about it.”

“Fine,” she grumbled. I began to wonder what she was thinking. Gwen always looked so invigorated in battle as she darted around in her animalistic form. I was surprised she was resistant to the prospects of another. Was she just as tired of it all as I was? Was she more concerned with how I would act when thrown into another fray? I knew I was worried about that. I didn’t trust myself not to get too reckless now that Daniel was gone. There’s more to live for…and don’t make your loved ones feel the way you do now.

“Lorna!” I called as we got closer.

“Ah, Naomi; just in time,” she commented. “I’m sure my father already impressed on you that we need to get rid of that flying gunship if our people have any chance of escaping.” I nodded to answer. “Well, here’s the plan. Keel Harbor had its share of rebel sympathizers in the old days.” Were there any places in Gilneas that didn’t? “I’ve managed to round up a hefty amount of incendiary explosives from one of our storehouses,” she announced, slapping the side of the crate she was toting. I was a little terrified by how many of these storehouses they had hidden around the country. Crowley and his men could have waged a real war against the king had the worgen not torn apart and – subsequently – unified us.

“And we’re going to get them on board the thing…how?” I inquired. My stomach squirmed uncomfortably. It was in the sky; there were only so many ways we could get up there. Can we steal a catapult and just launch bombs at it? I hoped that was it.

She smiled. “I’m glad you asked. We’re going to hit the enemy with a force small enough to fly undetected. The night elf hippogryphs should do the trick,” she explained. The night elf whats? I wasn’t too keen on getting back up in the sky after the bomb-bat ride. I looked up the dock in the direction Lorna had been heading with the crate. There were several strange beasts standing there. “We’re going to load them up and then we have to wait for the airship to get into a good position. Tobias will give you the signal when we’re ready to go.”

“O-okay,” I responded emptily. I shot a nervous glance at Gwen. She shrugged and pulled me away.

“Can we get mad now?” she whispered.

“I don’t want to fly,” I groaned, cupping my hands over my snout. Just breathe. You won’t die here.

We approached the creatures on the edge of the dock. They were a strange combination of animals. Their front halves resembled birds, with bluish-green feathers and talons on its front legs. Though they had beaked faces, they had antlers like a stag. Their back half looked more like a horse, complete with hooved hind-legs and equine tail. A pair of massive, magnificent, feathered wings sat folded at its side, connected to the creature near their shoulder blades. So this is a hippogryph… I’d never seen anything like it, but they were certainly beautiful animals – much more pleasant to look at than the bats. And I hoped that they would be a somewhat more stable mount.

“Have you ever seen one of these things?” I asked Gwen curiously. “I mean, you do a lot more exploring than I do.”

“I don’t think they have anything like this in Gilneas,” she commented. “They’re kind of pretty.”

“They’re also kind of weird-looking,” I mentioned.

“Well, so are we.”

Tobias Mistmantle stood nearby with an excited grin on his face. “It’s you again,” he commented. “I was wondering if Darius would manage to talk you into helping us out again. It’s going to be a fun one.”

Yeah…fun… “Have you ridden one of these?” I wondered cautiously.

“Nope, but the night elves swear they’re very reliable,” Tobias responded. “They ride ‘em all the time, so how hard could it be? They also tell me these things are pretty smart – pretty much fly themselves.”

It was a small relief, but I was still uneasy. “Wh-when are we going to leave?” was my next hesitant question. Lorna and the others started loading explosives onto the saddle-bags of the hippogryphs.

“Once we’re loaded up, we just need to wait for the Horde gunship to get into better position. If we can make use of the clouds, we should be able to hit them before they see us,” he explained. “Getting antsy?”

“Not exactly the word I would use,” I grumbled.

Gwen and I stood by, waiting anxiously for Tobias to give us the signal. He kept his eyes fixed on the gunship in the distance. After a few minutes, it drifted beneath the clouds over the bay. “It’s time,” he declared. “Mount up.”

With a groan, I approached one of the hippogryphs cautiously. “It’s just going to be a nice, easy ride, right?” I asked it at a whisper. The thing screeched at me. “I’ll take that as a yes. I’ll hold you to that.” I began feeling very silly talking to this winged animal. Carefully, I jumped up onto its back.

The hippogryph shrieked again and reared back, unfolding its huge wings. Oh, please no. Settle down! It took off at a gallop while flapping. Before long, we were airborne and I was hugging its neck for support with my eyes snapped shut. It definitely felt different from the bat. While the wind still whipped at my face, my bottom definitely felt more secure. After a moment, I cautiously opened my eyes.

We were soaring through the air. With each beat of its wings I was pulled higher and higher into the clouds. I began to lighten up my grip on the creature’s neck, figuring it would not be a good idea to strangle the poor thing – especially while I was still on it. I dared to look around. There were about a dozen other hippogryphs flying around me. I could see Gwen, Tobias, and Lorna each on their own mount. There were also several Gilnean militiamen accompanying us.

We ascended into the clouds and I immediately was unable to see more than a foot in front of my snout. I prayed that this hippogryph knew where it was going, because I certainly didn’t. My heart started racing again. Okay, this wasn’t so bad at first, but I don’t like this. I need to be able to see. Every second, I expected to collide with one of the other hippogryphs or the hull of the gunship.

After what felt like forever, the hippogryph started to glide down. I could feel the descent as the pit of my stomach began to rise, like I was falling. It has control. It knows what it’s doing. I’ll be okay. I had to keep telling myself that.

We broke through the clouds, just above the gunship. I could see a small bridge connecting the top of the two balloons. There were a few orc lookouts posted up there. It didn’t look like they had noticed us yet.

Tobias’ hippogryph approached first. As it swooped over one of the blimps, he hopped off and slid down the side onto the bridge. With a howl, he began fighting the closest orc to him. I saw Lorna and the others start to drop down, using the balloon to cushion their falls. If they can do it, I should be able to. My hippogryph made a pass. With a deep breath, I jumped off the side of it.

I did not like the feeling of freefalling. I stared directly at the ship and where I was going to land. After an eternal few seconds, I hit the blimp, bouncing a little on the fabric, and slid down onto the wooden platform.

“Clear the rafters!” Lorna commanded, raising her rifle and firing at one of the orcs that began charging across the bridge. I noticed the saddle-bags full of explosives were piled up at her feet.

There was a familiar, audible growl next to me and then I saw Gwen dart forward in her preferred form to fight off the green-skinned enemies. I unsheathed my rapier and ran after her. There wasn’t a whole lot of room to maneuver on the bridge, so my speed wouldn’t help me much. I’ll have to be especially careful. Luckily, there weren’t too many guards up here. I could hear the deck below was in chaos, though. The entire ship had been alerted to our presence.

I noticed an orc pursuing Gwen as she attacked another. With an angry shout, I launched myself at him. He turned in time to deflect my strike. He sneered at me, eyes filled with bloodlust. With an enraged grunt, he swung his battle-axe at me. I tried to parry it, but the size and weight of the weapon was a bit overwhelming. I jumped away in time to keep the blade from biting into me. I could hear the tip scrape across the surface of my breastplate. That was close!

As the orc finished the arc of his swing, I lunged forward with my sword. He leaned back to avoid it. Spry for a big fellow. But I figured his balance couldn’t be to secure in that stance. I swung around and kicked him in the chest as hard as I could. The orc blinked several times as he staggered back to regain his footing. His face told me he never expected someone like me to be able to hit him. Then, as hard as I could, I rammed into him before he could regain his balance. The orc fell back over the railing and plummeted to the deck below. It was eerie listening to his screams just abruptly end as he collided with the surface.

I allowed myself to take a deep breath before turning around. The rest of the assault force was finishing up the remaining orcs up on the rafters. Lorna wandered over to us as a couple of the Gilnean militiamen began shooting at orcs on the deck down below. Well, so far, so good.

My eyes drifted over to the gigantic balloons. “Hey Lorna…why don’t we just blow these things?” I asked. It made enough sense to me. An airship couldn’t stay up without its hot air. Then how would we get down? I could think of one way, but I wouldn’t be too happy about it.

She shook her head. “That would be no good. The wreck would block our exit,” she pointed out before throwing me a mischievous grin and a wink. “No, I got a better plan.”

“Does that plan include an exit strategy?” I asked nervously.

“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it, yeah?” she laughed. How is she so calm about this? I hoped the hippogryphs were smart enough animals to come back for us. She turned towards the rest of the group. “I want two sharpshooters to stay behind and cover the deck. Everyone else, use the ropes to rappel down. Let’s give them hell!” she commanded energetically.

Rope? Looking around, I noticed the coils of rope she was referring to. Great…so I’m going to be dangling from a rope sixty-some feet over the deck of a ship floating hundreds of feet in the air. Brilliant. What could go wrong?

Tobias tossed the ropes over the side. “Well, let’s get to it, then,” he shouted, grabbing hold of one and launching himself over the railing.

“Come on, Naomi. Let’s finish this and get the hell out of here,” Gwen encouraged. I saw Lorna start her descent. The marksmen atop the balcony were keeping them well-covered.

I grabbed a robe and took a deep breath before climbing over the railing. I could feel my muscles tighten as I kept a death grip on the rope. Slowly… I eased up a little bit and I felt my heavy body jerk down. In a panic, I clutched the rope with all of my strength. This is horrid. Little by little, I made it down. It took me so long, in fact, that there didn’t seem to be any enemies around when I finally touched down on the deck.

“You really don’t like heights do you?” Gwen laughed.

I shook my head. I tried to think back to figure out why. Maybe it was the bat ride. I had no idea. When it came down to it, I shouldn’t be so uneasy about it; I’ve done much more dangerous things lately. My cheeks started to burn with embarrassment. I’m so worthless.

“We’re making for the bridge. Pick it up, Love,” she urged.

I couldn’t help but notice the vibrations in the floorboards beneath my paws, reminding me of where I was. Regardless, I ran forward to join the rest. Lorna and the others were standing outside of a chamber that could only have been the bridge. They had their rifles raised and primed on the two orcs that were therein. One of the orcs wore a large hat, which I took to mean he was the captain.

Slowly, Lorna and her soldiers crept forward, ready to fire if challenged. “Hands up, greenskins!” Lorna demanded with a sneer. “My men will give you your new bearing. You try anything funny and we’ll fill you with lead, understood?”

Nervously, the orcs nodded as they raised their hands. The one next to the captain was shaking violently.

“Good. I guess they don’t teach all of you to fight till the last man,” she added with a laugh. “Smart.” She turned to Tobias, Gwen, and me. “The rest of you, follow me downstairs,” she commanded, hoisting the bombs onto her shoulder.

“There’s a downstairs?” Gwen blurted out.

“Of course,” Lorna shrugged as she walked past us. We fell in behind her. “You didn’t think the whole ship was filled with hot air, did you?”

Gwen didn’t respond. On the opposite side of the deck was a ramp leading down into the underbelly of the ship. I pulled my sword out as we descended. At the bottom of the ramp was rather claustrophobic chamber with closed doors on each side. There weren’t any guards down here, much to my surprise. I didn’t know what was on the other side of those doors and I wasn’t completely sure I wanted to find out.

The far end of the chamber opened up suddenly, creating a wide corridor with a single entryway into the back of the airship. There were a few orcs here and Gwen, Tobias, and I charged forward to engage them. I had a lot more room to maneuver and make use of my speed, so it was considerably easier to evade the powerful orcs’ attacks. They yelled what I expected were profanities at me in their crude language as they swung wildly. More orcs poured out of the room at the other end. They’re so desperate to stop us; they must know what’s coming.

A gunshot rung out the moment I sensed movement behind me. I spun around and jumped with a start. An orc was right behind me, his weapon raised. But he wasn’t moving, an increasingly vacant stare in his eyes. Then he slumped to the ground. Lorna stood a ways behind him, smoke billowing from the barrel of her rifle.

“Thanks,” I gasped, hoping my heart would slow down soon.

“Don’t mention it,” Lorna replied happily. “Hey, isn’t this how we met?”

“Except this time, I didn’t have someone hanging off my arm,” I muttered.

I took a moment to get my bearings. The room was more than wide – it was open to the outside. There were a number of platforms hanging out over the open sky. Some of them had cannon turrets, but others had some very peculiar, winged creatures. They had the head of a lion, leathery wings like a bat, and a tail that resembled that of a giant scorpion. What a bizarre thing. I didn’t know what it was, but I was pretty certain it would be a particularly unpleasant flying experience.

“What are those things?” I asked.

“Our ride out,” Lorna responded immediately. I was afraid of that. Well, I guess possibly dying was better than definitely dying. “The furnace room should be up ahead.” She marched forward, toting the bombs. I followed her into the big room at the end of the chamber. Sure enough, there were some iron structures in there resembling large boilers or furnaces. There were moving parts on them. The machines emitted an audible hum.

Lorna went to work rigging the explosives. “Just hold them off, now,” she requested. “We don’t know how many are…” But she was interrupted by the floor shaking. It shook again…and again. It was rhythmic – like footsteps. “What in the…” Lorna spun around; I did the same. “Oh…that’s one big orc,” she declared, her voice filled with surprise and awe.

A big orc…what an understatement. The behemoth that lumbered towards us across the room outside was beyond big. He was easily the size of the abominations we’d fought, maybe bigger; it was hard to tell from here. But he wasn’t a stitched-together hulk made up of many things. He was a single continuous form with bulging muscles that looked like they were carved out of stone. His shoulders were thicker than my entire torso and covered in thick plate armor adorned with rows of spikes. His arms were almost comically long compared to its comparatively stubby legs. The brute’s head was easily the size of a ripened watermelon. There were two large tusks poking out of the lips of his jaw, one of which had a brass tip. Unlike the abominations, this orcs expression held the dangerous signs of intellect.

“Keep it off me while I get this sorted,” Lorna commanded. I could hear her tinkering with the bombs, but my eyes were fixated on the orc behemoth in front of me.

“Uh…how?” was all I could mutter in disbelief. How in the world does an orc get like that? And how in the name of the Light are we supposed to fight it? I tightened my grip on the hilt of my sword. A strange sense of hopelessness overcame me. We’re doomed…if the Horde has soldiers like this at its disposal, what hope do we really have? I began to shudder a bit. Daniel…I don’t want to die.

“You should run now, while you can,” the orc warned, his face twisting into a crooked smirk. Can he sense my fear? Why…why am I so afraid of this thing when I fought all the others? By all accounts the undead things I’d fought were so much more terrifying, but I was paralyzed.

Gwen’s eyes on me caught my attention. She stared at me, like she was studying my face. Can she tell what I’m feeling too? Without any notice, she turned herself into her cat form and charged forward with a roar.

“Gwen!” I called after her. That thing’s going to kill her! The gigantic orc swung at her, but her sleek body zipped past his tree-trunk-like arms. It wasn’t the fastest thing we had faced; that size must actually come at a cost for these things…a glimmer of hope.

Tobias lunged forward with a snarl to join her. I watched him swipe at the brute, his claws digging into the greenskin’s forearm as he raised it defensively. I could see the wound bleeding, but the orc did not seem to care. He brought his fists down right where Tobias was. The floor of the ship cracked and splintered beneath the blow.

I staggered, trying to keep my balance as the ship shook. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Tobias steadying himself after barely evading the crushing strike. That was close. Tobias would have been killed for sure if he’d been hit by that! I swallowed hard. I need to get in there…I need to help.

“I don’t know what your hangup is,” Lorna commented. “But if that orc lives, we don’t.”

Come on, Naomi…get over it. Move! Fight! I kept telling myself to move forward. Finally, I was able to shake my mounting dread and thoughts of doom long enough to run forward. My body wasn’t moving as quickly as it used to…and not nearly as quickly as I needed it to.

I charged at the orc, who was swinging wildly as Gwen and Tobias hopped around him, and lunged forward with my rapier. I stuck him in the side of the leg. The brute howled in pain and rage. Did I get it? He swung around and slammed the back of his fist into me.

I yelped in agony as my body flew through the air and smashed into the wall of the engine room. I can’t breathe…I’m dying… My entire body was consumed in a pain beyond description. I had no doubt that bones had shattered beneath my skin. Somehow, I was still conscious – barely – and I caught glimpses of the orc as my vision drifted in and out of focus.

“How dare you puny weaklings attack us? You should have scurried away when you had the chance,” the orc roared.

I gasped out a jagged breath; my chest burned in protest. My mouth was strangely warm and wet. I tasted iron. Great…it feels like…my lungs are ruptured… I tried, in vain, to stand up, but I didn’t have the strength. My vision started to fade again.

Then, I heard a sound that froze me to my core: a frantic whimpering that didn’t sound quite worgen. I forced my eyes to focus and I saw the orc giant had Gwen in his powerful hands. I could see her struggling to escape.

“I got you now,” the orc chuckled malevolently. He tightened his grip and I heard Gwen cry out.

Gwen…no! Something burned within me. That awful bully! I will not let him hurt Gwen! I can’t! I moved my legs and pushed my way up the wall. Get up. She needs me. There will be time to die later! As I rose to standing position, my pain numbed. Breathing became much easier, though admittedly it was not without its problems. My body shook, but not from weakness and injury. Unbridled adrenaline coursed through me.

My sword lay on the ground nearby. I scooped it up and squared myself against the orc. “Put her down!” I demanded, the anger reaching the boiling point.

The orc turned towards me but did not obey my command. He let out a quick laugh. “Look at you. You can barely stand. What chance do you think you have?”

Pure recklessness fueled my body. I sprinted forward, pushing my body to the limits. The pain returned as I forced my muscles to move faster and faster. In an instant, I had closed the distance and jammed the tip of my blade into the wrist of massive orc. The strike forced him to release Gwen, who collapsed to the ground. She was still moving, though. I had no idea where Tobias was.

I sidestepped his counterattack and began slicing everything inch of orc flesh I could reach, creating a veritable whirlwind – a furious bladestorm that would have chopped a lesser enemy into pieces. Somehow, when I hopped away to assess the situation, the orc was still standing. Though, he obviously couldn’t take much more; blood streamed from the dozens of deep wounds I had etched into his flesh.

The orc fell to one knee and held himself upright. “H-how?” he gurgled.

I didn’t respond. My rage was overflowing. The orc was near death, maybe mortally wounded. But I wanted to be sure the job was done. I darted forward and leapt high into the air. As I came down onto the orc’s slumped body, I dumped all of my power – all of my rage – into one final strike. The thin blade pierced his skull and cut his head clear in half cleanly. My execution blow was a wild success.

As I extracted the sword, the orc fell to the side, shaking the ground. I slid the bloody blade into its sheath. As the adrenaline drained from me, so too did the numbness. The pain returned in full-force, my enraged healing not setting right all of the injuries. I fell to my knees – my muscles not able to keep me upright – and began gasping for breath. My lungs hurt again and my body was screaming at me.

“Naomi!” Gwen cried, running to my side. “Are you okay?”

I coughed and drew in a sharp breath as pain jolted through my chest. I shook my head, not sure if I could actually speak. I don’t know if I’m going to make it…Daniel…I’m going to die. Tears appeared in my eyes.

“The bombs are about to blow. Quick, get to the wyverns!” Lorna announced. I tilted my head back and gazed down the open passageway. Tobias was near the other end, slowling rising. The orc must have thrown him clear across the ship. He began limping towards one of the weird, winged animals.

“Let’s go,” Gwen urged desperately. “Naomi, stand up!” She began stripping off pieces of my armor – the shoulder pads, gauntlets, and bracers – in order to lighten the load.

I mustered enough strength to rise with Gwen’s help. She got underneath my arm and supported my weight as we moved forward. Even so, my legs shook. Lorna commanded us to hurry and then ran ahead of us. She got out of sight around the corner. I could only assume she had mounted one of the beasts and was on her way off to Keel Harbor.

We were making slow progress. How much time could we possibly have left? And even if I get out of here, there’s no certainty I won’t succumb to the injuries. Gwen has to get out of here…she has to survive. “Gwen…go,” I gasped in a labored voice. “Leave me…get to safety,” I insisted.

“I’m not leaving you,” she responded stubbornly.

We made it out of the engine room and into the open chamber. There was a single wyvern left, but it looked about ready to fly off on its own. “Just…go,” I repeated weakly. Gwen didn’t say anything; she just kept carrying me forward.

A deafening explosion resounded behind us. We’re out of time! The ship gave a violent lurch and Gwen and I were thrown forward by the blast from the exploding furnace. Something bit into my side and I cried out as we hit the floor.

I laid there, drifting in and out of consciousness. The wyvern was incredibly agitated. Gwen…get out of here…please! The beast flew off, fearing the ship’s destruction. No…we’re trapped…she’s trapped… I began cursing myself; I had killed her. If I hadn’t been so weak, she would have made it out. I couldn’t save her or Daniel.

“Naomi!” I heard Gwen call out frantically. Her voice sounded so far away. I could feel her hoisting me up onto my paws. “Naomi, we have to move!”

What’s the point? We’re going down with the ship. The ground shook violently. Everything felt so unreal, like I was just and observer in all of this, watching as Gwen and I tried to escape an inescapable situation.

She dragged me to the edge, where one of the wyverns had been moments before. The ground was approaching fast. Below, scores of orcs scurried to get out of the way. So that was the plan…kill two birds with one stone.

“Gwen…I’m sorry,” I sobbed through gritted teeth.

She shushed me and held me out at arms’ length. She gasped. “Your stomach!”

I looked down; a jagged piece of metal was embedded in my belly, just right of center. It must have been thrown from the engine room after the explosion. “It’s…it’s nothing…I can’t even feel it,” I told her. It was sort of true; my body was consumed by pain, so I couldn’t really notice that specific wound. “I’m sorry,” I repeated. “I don’t think…” I took a deep breath. “Thank you…for being my friend…such an amazing friend.”

She looked at me with a concerned gaze for a moment before her expression strengthened. “Thank me later,” she stated before pushing me off the side of the ship.

What? My mind couldn’t really register what just happened. I was staring at the sky and I could feel myself free-falling. My eyes blacked out and I drifted closer to unconsciousness. Where’s Gwen?

I felt something clamp around my arms, just by my shoulder. I heard the flapping of wings. It no longer felt like I was falling. More accurately, it felt like I was hanging, my paws dangling in the air below me. My eyes focused long enough to look around; two massive talons had latched onto my arms. I followed the talons up and saw the same giant raven-thing that I had seen flying over Lord Walden’s estate.

Where did that come from? It took my mind to finally make the connection: Gwen! I’d seen her transform into animals so many times, but I had no idea she would be able to take this form. I turned my attention forward; Keel Harbor was getting closer and closer. I could see the night elf ships waiting in the waters of the bay. I couldn’t really hear anything as wind whipped across my face, nearly drowning out the ringing left over from the explosion.

Before long, we were gliding over the town. Gently, Gwen set me down near the docks. I immediately collapsed onto my but, holding myself up with an outstretched arm. Out of the corner of my eyes, I could see a pair of paws drop down onto the ground out of the air.

Gwen ran up to me and knelt down, putting her furry muzzle right in front of mine. “Naomi, we made it!” she declared triumphantly. “We’re going to get out of here!”

I opened my mouth to respond, but I lacked the energy to speak. My body started shaking violently. My vision was blurred. Again, I tasted blood in my mouth.

I could see the outlines of others running towards me. “Naomi?” she questioned. “Are you okay?”

My eyes drooped and I began to sway. My arm wouldn’t prop me up for long. It was becoming harder and harder to breathe. It was becoming harder and harder to stay awake. If I pass out, I’ll surely die.

“Naomi, stay with me!” Gwen urged desperately. A faint green glow appeared around her hands. She spent so much energy just mending the small wound a couple of days ago. She won’t be able to rejuvenate me now.

My arm gave way and I collapsed to the ground. The others were getting closer now, but my vision was going black again. Gwen…just go. Get on the boat and get out of here. I’ll happily sacrifice myself if I know you, at least, escaped. I wished I could bring myself to mutter those words.

Daniel…I’ll see you soon…maybe sooner than you expected. Sooner than I wanted. Fear gripped me amidst the pain. I don’t want to die…I don’t want to die… I could feel tears building in my eyes, even though I could no longer see. I could faintly hear Gwen screaming out my name.

It’s not fair…I gave so much…I tried so hard…why do I have to die? After everything that had happened, I deserved to keep going. I was so close. The ships would set sail and I would be gone.

“Quick, get a doctor…a healer…anyone!” Gwen cried out. “Get her on the ship!”

It’s too late…I’m too far gone. Oh, Light…I don’t want to die. If I had the energy to cry, I was sure I would be sobbing uncontrollably. Daniel…everything hurts…I can’t take it…I…can’t… I began to slip out of consciousness.

“Naomi!”

That was the last thing I heard before every sense went dark. There was nothingness. I knew what it meant, but I thought death would feel different. This is the end…

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