FANDOM


Kopf's Story

- by Kopfjagger and Lucia



Consequences of TruthEdit

Lucia decided she really hated boats. The constant movement, the overwhelming scent of fish and the incredibility cramped quarters were not to her liking. Not one bit. She would have preferred the gentle ride of a zeppelin to this rocking thimble any day. She clutched her stomach and groaned, her head ached and her stomach rolled with the ship. Of course, it didnt help that the solders had booked passage on a fishing vessel instead of the passenger one. Faster they had said, but at this point she didnt care much about being faster.

A good side to this ship was that Lucia wouldnt have to step foot on another boat. The fishing vessel was headed for The Menethil Harbour to drop of a load of fish and that cut off a lot of traveling distance. Several of her guard had left her, taking the passenger boat to drop off their missives. She had overheard the tail end of a conversation, before they noticed her and cut it off, something about operatives in the southern barrens and Theramore. She didnt much care about that, she just wanted to be back on dry land.

When the Seamans Folly docked in the harbor, Lucia said a fond farewell to her captain. He was a surly, rough man that despite his surliness was still friendlier then the guards she traveled with. He had told her stories while she lay in her bunk overcome with sea sickness of pirates and of the ladies. He gave her instructions on how best to deal with the goblins and how to avoid losing a cargo. Lucia had felt enlightened, bored to tears and corrupted all at the same time. Her face she burned from his lady tales.

Her guardians rushed her along, and soon they were back to traveling, but at least it was on dry land. Well, the Wetlands at any rate; and they were exactly that, wet lands. Swampy pools came right to the road, crocodiles wandered in and out, snapping at the toads that hopped everywhere. A light mist had begun to fall and the trip was now, officially and truly: Horrible. By the time they reached the crumbling bridge into the Arathi highlands, Lucias hair was stringy, her robes were sopping and she shared her horse with a bundle of scaly crocodile hides that stank.

In the highlands the rain continued to fall, much to her chagrin. Her and her guards took a quick detour to a camp called Refuge Pointe settled in a natural mini valley where yet another of the strange plain envelopes exchanged hands. Then, finally, back on the road which they followed as it led west. Her guard seemed to get more and more jumpy as they went. She was eager to be in Southshore as well.

Outside a massive wall the guard pulled forth their weapons and she could see their heads swiveling from side to side; searching everywhere. With a sigh of relief, Lucia finally entered Hillsbrad. She let her eyes wander wherever they would take her.

It is such a beautiful place! Her eyes skittered over the strong trees and pretty countryside; they crossed over a wooden bridge that arched over a stream. She saw large turtles paddling along the bank and milling about in and out of the water. She was awed by the sheer loveliness of the place. Her little group wandered off the road and followed the stream south until they reached the human settlement of Southshore. Lucia had arrived in her new home.

At first glance it was everything she had dreamed it would be. Built close to the sea it had a little dock you could sit on and enjoy the breeze off the water. Here and there, little gardens were planted with a riot of various strange looking plants. The houses were spaced out and looked wonderful.

But there, the illusion ended. The town was so very quiet. Little groups of people were clustered together or rushing about then darting back inside and shutting their doors. It was heavily guarded so that it looked more like army barracks then a town to live in. In the distance Lucia could see the graveyard, huge mounds of freshly dug earth. Out of the corner of her eyes she saw a soldier dragging a body behind him.

She paled. This was not a town to live in. This was a war zone under siege! She had been lied to and strung along. She was a fool. The guards she had traveled with clustered tighter around her and ushered her into the heart of the town. Once there one of them handed her a letter and said briskly, The last missive we have to deliver, and good riddance.

She stared in shock at him. What?

He sneered at her, showing his yellow teeth. We know all about you, harlot. Sympathizer of the horde! You should be put to death for the vile things youve done with that undead in the stockades. It was all I could do to travel this long with you. Enjoy your stay, missy! Im sure youll find the company more fitting to your taste, and he pointed to a mass of horde pushing at the line of defense that was mustered only moments after she arrived.

The guards all laughed at her before snapping reins and leaving. Lucia stood stupidly in shock in the middle of the battle torn town. Trembling hands held the plain brown envelope in her hands. Her shaking fingers were failing her, but finally she opened the letter and read. The tears slowly falling off her face to leave little stains on the cruel words within.

Lucy,

When you receive this you will by then know that you are no longer welcome among your people back here. I would suggest, kindly and with your best interests at heart of course, that you not return. I hope it was worth it.

Two weeks ago a letter arrived from my sister, who is by the way, dead. Feel free to inhabit her house if it is still standing. In her letter she informed me of the truth. You are not my cousin, but my half sister. That harlot that called herself my mother bore you and gave you to her sister to raise.

Your father had been a drifter and left her dry to go beg my father to take her back. I suppose you get your disgusting nature from her. She was known for her illicit liaisons with the horde, attempting peace she called it. Well, I take the same stand my father took before he died; No quarter, No mercy. There can be no peace as long as the evil beasts walk Azeroth.

I am sick that I share even a drop of blood with a horde sympathizer. May you find out their true nature in your new home. Look around you Lucy; that is what they are about. Horde killed my father, horde killed my sister but they may actually serve some purpose if they act as your executioners. Trial by jury Lucy, Judged by your new found peers and sentenced to death.

May your dirty soul be cleansed through pain,

Jayes Alerion Lamden
Proud member of The Legion of Purity and Validity
Lucia stared at the words, tumbled off her horse and fell to her knees. Defeated she hung her head and felt her spirit die. Everything she had believed in had been a lie. The beauty she had dreamed of was shattered in the ugliness of truth and for a moment she understood why Kopfjagger killed the living.

Lucia only thought of him now. She hoped he would come and be her strength again. Until then she would wait. Until then, she could survive.

She looked up at her horse and saw her collection of belongings. Among them were her precious plants that she had intended to plant beneath a new window. Not here, she thought bitterly. She would rather let them die in the pots then in the blood stained soil of Southshore.

With a heavy heart Lucia wrapped her hand around the reins of her horse and approached a guard nervously standing about. He pointed her in the direction of her house and went back to his jittery glancing. She just shook her head sadly and let her feet take her to the house. Once she was at the threshold, she began to slowly unpack her meager belongings. She sighed as she set down the pots holding her herbs and left them in the sun to die.

((This part of the story was written in partnership by Kopfjagger and Lucia. I have the honor of retelling it but at least half, if not more, of the creative power comes directly from Lucia even though her name does not appear to the left of the post. *bows deeply to Lucia* Thank you, Lucia, for letting me retell our story, I hope to do it justice.))

NightmareEdit

Kopfjagger had toyed with the guards for days. He would stealth up behind one that had wandered a bit too far from the safety of the outpost and begin to poke at them. At first, it was merely to vent some of his growing anger, confusion and frustration. But then, he began to enjoy it.

Poke. Slide around to the other side of the guard while still fully cloaked... poke.... slide around... poke. Watching their eyes widen and their stance shift from confident to terrified amused him to no end.

Some of them he let live to tell the others. Some he would lure off to the nearby trees with his taunts. Then he would kill them before they knew what hit them. Their swords would be placed near the road, warning Southshore that there was a Rogue nearby. Heads did not like to sit on the hilt of a sword, but he managed.

Each evening he would perform this ritual of his. Each morning there were more cries and gasps as yet another guard had fallen to the Horde. There were always more guards, he thought to himself. Always the new and the young. He wondered what lies these younglings were fed to get them to stand out here in the dark. They were obvious prey to a beast that could not be truly killed. He was the Nightmare.

He smiled to himself as he affixed a new head onto the hilt of a shining new sword. Let this be a warning, Lucia, his thoughts continued. This is not a home. See this and realize that you have come here to kill, be killed or to be saved from the death that your blind trust has led you.

The days found him perched atop the human chapel. From there he would survey the battles and the town. Scanning for Lucia and itching to kill the living competed for his thoughts. He compromised by only killing at night. Well, mostly only at night. There were some targets that just simply could not be passed up.

He still had his own constraints, however. He would never again take the life of an innocent. He would never again hold hostage a youth. But if there was a weapon on their person, they were enemy and thus, a snack for the taking.

This cycle continued for many days and nights. The guards were now in a frenzy and would stand clustered two or three together at a time... but one would always wander. Poor humans, he thought. Nature had stopped calling to him a long time ago. It's a silly reason to die, really. But it was a sufficient reason for him to kill.

And then it happened. Between skirmishes, Lucia appeared in the center of the town. She was on a small horse burdened by bundles of what he could only assume were her beloved plants. Now, now he would see why she had come here. The perch from the chapel offered a most excellent view.

It was difficult to see her expressions, but from what he could tell, at first she seemed very pleased with her new home. His jaw clenched and he could feel his teeth grinding together. And then... she shifted. Her eyes seemed to take in everything and truly see. There were fresh mounds in the Hallowed Ground from the numerous guards that were just recently slain. The pockmarks of battle littered the buildings. She was seeing.

Then a human thrust a letter into her hands and she shook. By the time she completed reading the letter her countenance had completely shifted. She was weeping and on her knees. Excellent, he thought. She had not changed so much over the years. His heart was still dark from his doubts, but he could already feel those doubts drain from him like water in a leaky bucket. It would just take some time to rein in his malice and grief but the love he felt for her was already beginning to flower again.

He watched her slowly gather her belongings off of the horse single handedly. He wanted to help her, but he would draw too much attention and perish in the process. She made several laps dejectedly back and forth to her new home. Thankfully, it was on the edge of the square and its back faced into the open wood. Getting to her would not be difficult.

As he slunk down from his perch, he chastised himself for his impatience. He should really wait until nightfall to go into her new home. The route to the back of the house was easy enough to stealth through and he was confident in his skills. But if she let out the slightest sound of surprise, the guards may come.

He could not resist poking a guard that stood between himself and the house; his decision made. The jump and cry that escaped the guards mouth was most gratifying. He made his way to the back of the house and leaned his ear against the rough wood planking. Directly above him was a small window, shuttered and locked. He listened for footsteps and at last, he heard them.

He tapped gently upon the wooden side of the house. He repeated this every few seconds and waited for the window to open. Glancing over his shoulder, he was relieved to see that the guards were still looking outward and the one that was recently poked suddenly had seemed to have taken ill and was no where to be found.

He did not realize that the gore from his many killings was still spread all over him. Blood stained his face. His armor had bits of the dead still stuck to it. His twin blades were covered to the hilt in the gore of the labor. His gloves were black not from dye, but from dry blood. He did not notice because, for a time, he was the Head Hunter. Now, he was coming back to whom he wanted to be. A lover and a dreamer of dreams once more.

Tap... tap... tap.


Inside her new home, Lucia paced back and forth, the anger slowly growing and replacing the heart breaking sorrow the letter had caused. She was angry at herself for letting Jayes get to her, to almost break her spirit. Her, a mother that had left her children to find a husband deep in the heart of hell should be stronger than this! She would not allow his deep seated hatred to consume her as well. She knew all too well the two different sides of people, alliance and horde alike.

With a firm grasp on her new resolve Lucia went back outside and brought in her beloved herbs and flowers. She would not plant them here, but she would keep them growing until she could find a good place to set their roots. They symbolized more than just pretty bouquets and flavorful trimmings; they represented her love for the small things, family, home and since he had begun his forays into them and into her life, Kopfjagger. He had taken special care not to bend or break the stems when he spied from them and so she assumed he enjoyed them as they were as well. Therefore, she would keep them safe until the time came to replant and grow them anew.

Once the flora was inside, watered and tended, Lucia went back to pacing, occasionally throwing a glance at the cruel letter sitting on the table. Unbidden tears came to her eyes and she furiously wiped them away, accidentally getting some soil in her eyes. It was that exact moment that someone decided to tap on the closed shutters.

She hated closed shutters and locked doors. When she had first come inside she had wanted to open up everything to let the air in, but he clash from outside had cured her of that desire. The tap, tap, tap came again. Probably another solider with more dire warnings, she really was getting tired of the constant parade of doomsayers.

One moment, she called and grabbed a cloth to wipe out her eyes. The tap, tap, tap repeated, she sighed, pasted a smile on her face and prepared to listen to another speech about safety. She flung open the heavy wooden shutters and peered outside, the sun and soil momentarily blinding her. She put the cloth over her eyes and rubbed to get them clear, she blinked then glanced outside.

Her scream rent the air before she could stop it. Immediately she clasped a hand over her mouth when she finally recognized the undead face looking in at her, a look of utter horror entered her eyes. He would be discovered! In an instant she took in his appearance, bloodstains and all, then quickly she shoved at him and whispered in Gutterspeak, Get away, Go and she slammed the shutters shut.

Lucia rushed to her door and threw it open in time to see the guards rushing to her doorstep, she held up her hands and laughed nervously, Im sorry, Im sorry. It was a spider, but I managed to scare it off. The guards glared at her, but went back to their posts, some scurrying back out of town to patrol the front line. The minute the last guard left, Lucia rushed back inside, tears of happiness in her eyes now, instead of pain and sorrow, he had come! She pushed open the shutters again prepared to face his bloody exterior, he must have been hunting the bears she had seen everywhere, but he was gone.

She looked for a moment, scanning the trees but he was nowhere to be found. She sighed, but then grinned, he was around and she could venture out and find him. Buoyed by her thoughts of Kopfjagger, Lucia left the shutters open, just in case he decided to come back, now that she knew he was around.

((This part of the story was written in partnership by Kopfjagger and Lucia. I have the honor of retelling it but at least half, if not more, of the creative power comes directly from Lucia even though her name does not appear to the left of the post. *bows deeply to Lucia* Thank you, Lucia, for letting me retell our story, I hope to do it justice.))

Mixed SignalsEdit

It seemed an eternity, but finally the shutters opened. Before he could say a word to Lucia however, Kopfjagger saw horror grip her face in a vice. She screamed at him. She shoved him away. She told him to leave. Horror and disgust was what he brought to his love.

The shutters slammed shut in his face and he could hear her fleeing out of the room. He resumed his stealth and snuck to the corner to peek around. Guards were running to the sound of her horrified yell. He could not make out the words, but he heard Lucia directing them. Moments later, the guards fanned out to search for the source of this womans misery.

He was stunned. Slowly he made his way deep into the wood, moving slowly under stealth. His thoughts were in chaos now. Why had she screamed so? He knew that she recognized him; he saw it in her eyes. Why did she demand that he leave her presence? They had spoken at a back window many times before... or so it had seemed.

That was a long time ago, he reminded himself as he wandered through the wood. That was a very long time ago and humans change with the seasons. That look on her face troubled him deeply. It did not look like a face of concern. She was truly horrified of him.
Why?

His pain at being rejected was warring with logic to try and figure out what could have caused such a reaction. Over and over he ran the possibilities through his head, searching for something that may be a semblance of the truth.

He did not notice how dark it was, or the fact that it became light again as he walked. The sun had come up and set, the moon shone in its brilliance and then went to sleep behind the hills again as he wandered. Rage at being forsaken, anger at being Forsaken, pain at being rejected, and hope of love yet possible all warred with his heart and mind.

"Join us, Rogue," a voice near him said. He did not jump. Master rogues do not jump when startled. In fact, he was not startled either. He was merely exceptionally interested in what this person had to say.

"In what?" he spat. Kopfjagger was standing on a small hill just outside Tarren Mill. The hill was quite crowded and dozens more people were beginning to come from all directions to meet right where he was standing.

"We," said a huge Tauren clad in the thickest Plate armor Kopfjagger had ever seen, "are going to burn Southshore to the ground once and for all." The Warriors gaze and arms swept out across the masses assembling on the hill.

There were dozens, maybe even a hundred Horde descending upon this hill. Forsaken mages glowed with their shield of Ice around them. Shadow Priests looked like black ghosts as they cast their enhancing spells on all those assembling. Warriors and Shaman, Druids and Warlocks all gathered. Spells flew as they prepared for war. Every spell made each of them stronger, faster and a more effective killing machine. He stood there and took in the sight.

It was glorious. Never before had he seen such power of the Horde gathered in one place. This was an impressive army where the Horde usually fields a squad at best. An army that would burn and destroy everything that stood between it and Southshore. And then it would continue until the Alliance were driven into the sea and slaughtered.

His war within himself came to a head. This would be the opportunity to kill every man, woman, child, dog, rat and worm in a ten mile radius. Part of him ached for the battle; yearned for it begged for it. His rage and rejection fueled his lust for war. He would be the perfect assassin for this battle of battles.

Hope. He still had hope. It was small and aimlessly wandering his heart, but it was there. He must know.

"No," was all he said as he summoned his horse from Brill. Once on his steed he rode away from Tarren Mill and away from Southshore. He could not be seen heading towards the direction of the woman that he loved.

He had no idea what Lucia had been doing these past few days, but now his thoughts focused on her so intently that he could almost hear her light laughter in his heart. She was about to die, along with everyone in that outpost. He had to get to her and he had to do it now, he thought as he dismissed his mount. He wrapped the light around him to gain stealth and sprinted as fast as he could northward.


Kopfjagger had still not returned and the horde activity had lessened almost to the point of being non-existent. Lucia decided to take advantage of the good weather and go for a short walk to look over her new surroundings. Good or bad this was her new home until she learned of any place better. Perhaps she would get a sample or two of the new flora she had seen coming in.

Determined to make the best of it, she pulled a seedling from one of her old plants and went to the mounds of fresh earth that served as a graveyard. She searched until she found the plain marker for her half sister and planted the seedling there. It might grow and then the flowers would represent the life that was lost in this little town. Once she was content that she had done all she could to help the little seedling survive, she passed the sentries and headed north along a path.

She wandered a bit off the main road until she spotted a cluster of small purple blooms. To the right of it was a crumbled down tower with stairs that no longer went anywhere. Lucia bent down and carefully cut a fresh clipping. When she looked up she froze. Her heart seemed to leap into her throat.

Standing on the road past the tower was a Tauren, mounted on a beast covered with adornments of protection. Massive drums of war flanked the beast with the Tauren straddling the impossibly huge lizard.

Lucia slowly stood and placed the Kingsblood in her pouch. She eyed the Tauren warily then nodded in his direction to acknowledge his presence then moved to another plant. The Tauren did not move but his eyes followed her movements from beneath the ridge of his helm.

Lucia bent again and harvested a new plant, trimming enough so she could grow it but leaving the roots so the flower would blossom in the same area again. When she lifted her eyes to the Tauren again, Lucia stepped back a pace. Her alarm was growing by the second. The Tauren had not moved but now beside him sat an Orc astride a massive brown wolf. They both watched her now.

The Tauren grinned at her and raised a hand in greeting. She was about to return the gesture when she went white, as pale white as human skin could go. Over the rise of the hill came an entire Horde army. Lucia had never seen so many together before, all mounted on wolves, raptors, kodos and the undead skeletal horses. The blood drained from her as she realized the hand gesture had not been a greeting to her, but a signal to war. For precious moments she simply stared open-mouthed at the mass of armored enemies. Then she ran as fast as her feet would go. She ran for Southshore to warn them that death was coming.

((This part of the story was written in partnership by Kopfjagger and Lucia. I have the honor of retelling it but at least half, if not more, of the creative power comes directly from Lucia even though her name does not appear to the left of the post. *bows deeply to Lucia* Thank you, Lucia, for letting me retell our story, I hope to do it justice.))




End of Kopf's Story Book 20
[<---Book 19] [Book 21--->]

Ad blocker interference detected!


Wikia is a free-to-use site that makes money from advertising. We have a modified experience for viewers using ad blockers

Wikia is not accessible if you’ve made further modifications. Remove the custom ad blocker rule(s) and the page will load as expected.