The patrol was like any other, boring. It was a wet rainy night in Stormwind. The rain hit down on his mail armour. Golden Spirit his horse and faithful steed did not liek the rain either, prefering to be in the stables chewing on fresh golden hay.
The cold wind blew into his hardend body. "At least this is important," Grubbs said to himself against the cold wet wind. To Golden Spirits annoyance Grubbs spurred him forward.
The patrol took him through one of the dangerous parts of Stormwind-this was Old town, a haven for petty crinimals, and drunk angry soldiers. Although Grubbs could handal two, three would be too much for a 50 year old man. Grubbs decided to make his steed trot, "best to get out of here in one piece, then in several," he thought.
It was midnight he whislted a tune that was heard mich with his ancestors, then there was talking, and scuffleing. "hlloe," a nerevous Grubbs said. The night can sure make the bravest people scared, and his cold hands didn't help either.
The without warning three men jumped down on him, he wrestled them off, taking a few punches and kicks, but he shrugged them off. "By the light." Grubbs was amazed, the men who attacked him where dressed in the garments of a Stormwind soldier, he sighed. "I will not strike a fellow ally sir." The men grinned wickedly. But the defiant Grubbs removed his sword. "Do what you will, I will not kill you, I will defend myself, but draw your blood..I will not premit it."
The men looked at eachother, all stunned that they have found someone so defiant. "My friends, the Militia will catch you, you scum, I trust the commander and Arod with my life, they will not let me down."
The man on the left ran at Grubbs-who readied himself, but the otehr men drew out a gun and a crossbow, symontainsly firing off the action. the bullet and the arrow pierced his lung and heart. Blodd spat from his mouth as he fell to the floor, the dark clowd of death came to claim him, his last day caught up with Grubbs, in the twilight zone between life and death he saw his family wating for him. He was in his polished armour, wearing the tabard of the Militia. He was home.
The he was back to the cold paved floor. The attackers had gone, with his last utterd words he screamed the last words which could be heard throughout Old town. "[b]FOR STORMWIND!"
He feel into the state of death, and went to join his family for the everlasting peace.
Sat May 10 2008, 17:46