(A Gnome's Tale is an ongoing player fiction story, following the ingame exploits of Cyndre and Abryn. The complete story to date can be found here. Enjoy!)
The barred and locked service entrance was no match for the deft skills of their companion, Ninga, who awaited them in the half-light of the Outlands night sky. It was he who had found their path into the terrible fortress, using Stealth and the many tricks of his shadowy profession to infiltrate their defenses and scout out their path.
As they made their final preparations, Cyndre gazed in wonder at the vista above them. The moons and stars of Outland and the Netherstorm swirled above them in a magical dance of color. If the struggles in this place were not so different from Azeroth, it was the sky that reminded him that he was far from Ironforge, the city he had called home since the fall of Gnomeregan. Pangs of nostalgia gripped him as his mind wandered to his homeland. He had lost so much there... his family, his legacy, his soul...
Shaking off those bitter memories, Cyndre glanced at his beloved. A look of peace softened her delicate Elven features, and the light glow of the accouterments of her station and power, filled him with warmth and comfort. Her majesty and holy grace lifted up the companions Spirits and bolstered their Fortitude.
Ninga motioned for them to proceed as the door swung open. Once inside, the companions moved forward quietly and quickly, before their presence was noticed by the wandering packs of orcs. The Rogue slipped ahead of the party, darting from shadow to shadow, nearly invisible in the dim halls of The Blood Furnace. Cyndre could barley make out his silhouette as he crept up behind the unsuspecting guards...
With a thud, Ninga sprang into view and before the startled guard could ward off the blow, he was struck soundly from behind, rendering him senseless and immobile. Thorik Charged forward with a raucous Battle Shout, Intercepting the second guard as he lept to his comrade's defense. As the skirmish waned, the Sapped guard regained his bearings, and moved to strike the unsuspecting Rogue. As the axe descended upon Ninga's exposed back, a soft twang and a sickening gurgle could be heard, as the orc slumped to the floor, a barrage of arrows protruding from its spine. Ninga glanced at their fifth companion, Hunterace, and nodded his appreciation.
The companions moved through the halls of The Blood Furnace at a rapid pace, staying just ahead of the orcs pursuit. They had to map out this terrible factory of doom, if the forces of Honor Hold were ever to plan an assault to halt the flow of troops pouring out with each passing moment. Abryn continued to gather the foul blood of their fallen enemies, and the companions found treasures of great worth upon the corpses of the slain foes.
The battles raged on, and the companions wound deeper and deeper into the recesses of the halls of Hellfire Citadel. As they reached the center of the Furnace, a feeling of unspeakable evil swept over them. Drawn to the source of this raw and terrible power, the Militiae looked out over the balcony upon which they stood, and saw far below them a demon of such immense size and nightmarish power. Magtheridon... a being of the greatest evil, was here! They had to warn the others, before it was too late.