Brothers: One

Leodry, age 30

Ironforge, two years ago

Sometimes, when I close my eyes and try really hard to remember, I can almost see the farm as if I stood there. The sun on my face and arms as I worked the plow. The way Hannah would call for me and Danir to come inside for dinner. The smell of freshly turned earth and the harvested grain. The herb garden Hannah kept for cooking. Oh, and Hannah's cooking! The gods themselves would die to have even a bite of her food.

I remember that the first time I saw her farm, I cried. I didn't want to stay there. Father... He stopped his train of thought, his green eyes opening.

The stone walls of the room filled his sight and he groaned. Above, he could hear loud shouting and laughter of drunken dwarves and he wished he could join them. But he had already had a few to drink, which was why he was back in his room as it was, his head pounding from a compounded hangover. It's the only reason he was waxing nostalgic. There was no reason to think back, to dream about what was, when it can never be that way again. Father would disapprove, especially. 'Course, he'd think my behavior in general is terrible. So would Graz, come to think of it.

He was so strong. Always strong for us. Hannah hated him for it, but I know why he was so hard on us. I don't know if I love him, but I can at least respect him. She just thought he was callous. He wanted us to survive, to fight, to be strong like him. He didn't know how to raise children, just soldiers. I suppose my mother could have softened him a bit, but I never got a chance to meet her. Still, Hannah and Danir did well enough for me, as family goes. They made me strong, just in a different way than my father would have wanted.

Still, they couldn't prepare me for what would happen. Father might have been able to do so. He might have made me stoney enough to have been able to take the loss that would come without shedding a tear, but Hannah and Danir were too... human. Too loving. When we got word that they were gone...

He was almost surprised to feel the tear slide down his face. He had hit bottom. A deserter, a failed soldier, and only an adequate blacksmith, he hadn't done anything with his life. Ever since he left the battlefield those years ago and fled to Khaz Modan he had been a failure. His father woudn't have run. He would have done his duty to his prince, no matter what orders he was given. No matter how mad the prince may have seemed, or how terrible things had gotten. But not me. I ran, ran like the scared child that cried when his daddy went to war. And I tried to make it right, but I haven't done that well, here, either.

He turned over, feeling sick for the first time in ages after drinking. Maybe I had too much of that ale earlier. Maybe Hannah was right. Maybe it really is a poison, sadness. Maybe I've just gone too long without crying.

He fell asleep again, alcohol causing his dreams to shift and change, too fleeting to be remembered.

Into the North

"Seona! Seona, you in there?" Fandren's voice carried through the open doorway into the women's dormitory at the Cathedral of Light in Stormwind. The young priest dared not enter the dormitory, off-limits to men with dire consequences if they entered, but if he had heard the rumor right his friend wouldn't be in Stormwind much longer.

As it was, the young paladin was inside, packing the rest of her things. She sighed, knowing that Fandren missed her. They never got to see one another anymore, what with her being so busy with the Alliance army. She was needed by so many and had less and less time for her old friends. Checking one last time to ensure all her things were squared away, she shouldered her pack and closed the door to the small room behind her.

The dormitory door was standing open to allow the fresh breeze inside and Seona could see her young friend framed in the doorway. He's so young, she thought. He still has so much to learn, too. I wish Brother Benjamin would just let him do as he pleases. He'd be so much better off.

"Seona! There you are. Is it true? Are they finally sending you north? Are you taking the ship to Northrend?" Fandren's eyes were filled with a fearful excitement. He knew what awaited those who went into the cold north, but only the most well-trained warriors and soldiers went there, and he was jealous. Seona just sighed and nodded.

"Oh, Seona, be careful! Is there anything I can do for you before you go? Or maybe we can visit a nearby tavern and have a drink together before you leave." Seona, surprised at the suggestion, actually thought it was a good one.

"Aren't you a bit young to be drinking, Fan?" She asked, jokingly. Fandren laughed.

"Come on, Seona! I'm a man grown now! I can do as I please, no matter what others want to think." She hid a frown. He makes comments like that more and more often now. I know Brother Ben can be difficult, but he certainly seems to not take this seriously. She shook her head. No, can't think about this now. He's my friend, not my student or my responsibility. Plus, as he said, he's a man grown. Whatever he does is his choice. I'll not mother him.

"Come, then, Mister Fandren," Seona joked. "Lets get me squared away for my journey and we'll have a goodbye drink at a nice pub. Maybe I'll introduce you to some good dwarvish beer." With that, the two of them walked out of the grand church to the streets of the Cathedral District. The square was relatively quiet this time of day, but Seona had business to attend to.

They made their way to the canals. A well-known leatherworker there had agreed to repair Caliburn's tack and fit it with fur lining. She paid him the remainder of his fee after looking over the craftsmanship and had him deliver it to the Cathedral stables. Her next stop was an armorsmith where Fandren nearly knocked over a display of a full suit of armor. After his apology and a hasty clean-up, she spoke with the blacksmith.

"You'll be ready, m'lady. I've nearly gotten all your steed's armor fixed up and ready. I've tightened a few of the looser bits as well, without changing the fit, so you'll be safe against anything you come across, whether it be Scourge or a simple beast." Seona nodded, handing over the gold for the work. "I'll just have it delivered to the stables for you, then, m'lady Lightstone."

Seona thanked him and continued to her last stop, a small tailor shop at the end of the canal. "I need new blankets for Cal. It's going to be cold up there and I can't have him freezing to death." Fandren frowned. "Didn't you purchase a gryphon? Why bother with Caliburn's tack when you've a way to fly?"

"Unfortunately flying in cold weather like that is much harder than in warmer air, both for the rider and for the beast. On top of that, Zephyr is less protected against the freezing temperature. It takes more than a blanket to keep a gryphon warm in the sky. It will be some time before I'll be able to afford to prepare him for flight in Northrend. Besides, Caliburn could use the exercise. I spent nearly all my time in Outlands in the sky on Zephyr. He deserves a rest."

With that, she pushed open the door of the tailor shop and finalized her purchase of the new and much warmer saddle blankets and armor lining for her charger. With a smile and a nod of thanks, she was nearly done. Fandren, beginning to look terribly bored, smiled when she emerged from the shop and asked, "So, we finally ready for that brew?"

"One last thing, and then yes, we'll go for a drink."

"What could you possibly be still missing? You've packed, Caliburn is resting and will soon have entirely new tack and repaired armor... what am I missing?" Fandren asked, ticking off the places Seona had been on his fingers, confused.

Seona giggled. "I have to meet with my estate manager, Ziir. He'll meet us in the Dwarven District, near the tram station. Let's not keep him waiting, Fan, he's an intimidating fellow when annoyed."

Seona made her way through the streets of the human capital with the young priest on her heels. The Dwarven District was easy to distinguish from the rest of the city, both from the billowing smoke from the many blacksmiths and engineers' work, but also because most of the people were her height. For once, she wouldn't have to crane her neck to speak to people, though poor Fandren would no doubt have to stoop or even kneel, if he wanted to talk to any gnomes he may pass on the streets.

The archway entrance to the station came into view through the smoke. Near the entrance, a tall, heavily armored man stood, his bald head easily visible, his spiked helmet held under his arm. The few people moving to and from the tram gave him a wide berth. When he turned, Fandren gasped, realizing just what he was and why people avoided him. Cloistered in the Cathedral as much as the young priest was, he hadn't seen any of the Death Knights of the Ebon Blade up close. Seona smiled reassuringly and strode confidently up to the tall human.

"Ziir! Good to see you, my friend." She reached out and the death knight turned her way, stooping to take her hand.

"M'lady Lightstone. A pleasure, as always. Who is your companion?" Ziir turned his blue-glowing eyes towards the very nervous-looking Fandren, who, to Seona's pleased surprise, stuck out a trembling hand. "F-Fandren, sir. Forgive me... I haven't met anyone like... um... with your... condition."

Seona sighed, but Ziir seemed unaffected by the young priest's rudeness. "Quite alright." He turned to Seona, "M'lady Lightstone, I understand you have a great deal for me to process, correct? If it's all the same, I dislike Stormwind and will take the packages back to Ironforge straight away." Seona nodded and reached into her large traveling bag for a few smaller, but obviously heavy packages. "Ziir, I've picked up all this in Outland. The second bag is filled with nothing but skins. I had to send the ore shipment separately, so expect that in a few days. Did you have anything else for me?"

The death knight took the heavy packages and shook his head, handing over a small note and a bag of coins. "No, just the funds you requested. I'll do my best to keep you posted, but mail has a difficult time getting to and from Northrend as I understand it. Godspeed to you, m'lady Lightstone," he turned to Fandren and bowed, "Fandren. May we meet again."

With that, he turned back to the tram station and entered, his back fading into the darkness of the tunnel and out of sight. Fandren sighed, relieved, and Seona smiled. "Well, I guess that's that. Let's go get that drink now, Fan. First one's on me." Fandren nodded, still trying to shake off the strange feeling he got from meeting a real Death Knight, and followed his short friend into the nearby tavern.

They found a nice, secluded table and ordered drinks, reminiscing about old times, when Fandren was a young child, an orphan like Seona, and how they became friends. She told him stories of Outland and the things she had done there, of Zangarmarsh and it's strange, etherial beauty, of Nagrand and the strange, floating islands and waterfalls, and of the ogres, orcs and draenei that made there home there. He told her of the rumors in the church, about his simple life as a student in the Cathedral, about the troubles of Stormwind and the people living in it.

They laughed and talked into the night, the dwarven paladin and the young priest, but in the end, Seona had to end it. "I'll be boarding the ship before dawn, I think," she told Fandren, his smile slowly fading. "I'll miss you, Fan. I don't know when I'll be getting back, either. You should focus on your studies more, so you can eventually leave the Cathedral. Brother Ben doesn't want you as a student forever!" she joked, only realizing after that it may be in poor taste, considering their strained relationship. Fandren, luckily, was slightly drunk and waved it off.

"That would please him, no doubt. Eh, don't worry about me, Seona. I'll be fine. You're the one that has to be careful, now. Up north, it's a different land, or so I've been told. Strange people up there, and strange dangers. The Scourge, some kind of half-giant people, terrible beasts... no. You watch yourself, I don't want to have to say prayers for your spirit, or come down to the docks to pick up a coffin, something the priests are doing far too often these days."

She reached across the table to her friend, and he grasped her smaller hand in his own. "Thank you, Fan." She said, a tear escaping to roll over her cheek. "Oh, look at me, you're going to make me cry!" she chided, a smile on her face again. Fan laughed too, though it was only half-hearted.

"Write to me, Seona. Sometimes I feel like you're the only person in the Church that understands me." Fandren gave her hand one last squeeze, then let it go. "Oh, one last thing before we head back to the Cathedral... where in all the hells did you find that Death Knight to care for your finances?! I thought I was going to piss myself, he scared me so much!"

Seona laughed, draining her mug. "I'll tell you on the way back to the church. It all started when I was patrolling Elwynn Forest, months ago..."

----------**----------

Seona stood on the dock, the strange, dim light of the false dawn illuminating the wooden planks just enough for her to see. Caliburn snorted, restless after being ridden so little over the last weeks and knowing that great change was coming. He pulled at the reins a bit, but Seona gave a small tug and a look that would melt steel and he settled, not ready to face her ire this early in the morning.

There were no other soldiers waiting for the ship, and Seona was beginning to wonder if she had walked onto the wrong pier. A dockhand finally appeared from the shadows of the nearby boxes and crates stacked for shipping and walked over to the paladin. "Waitin' for the ship to Northrend, m'lady paladin?" she asked. When Seona nodded, the dockhand pulled out a small ledger. She checked it, turning pages quickly until she found what she had been looking for. She bent down a bit to get a better look at Seona's face, then nodded. "You're Seona Lightstone, Paladin?" When Seona nodded, she continued, "I've got it down that you have a single pack and will need space for one horse. Looks like you're all set, then. If the seas weren't too rough, The Kraken will be here soon enough."

The woman walked closer to the end of the peir. "Speaking of..." Seona followed her, telling Caliburn to stay where he was. There, on the horizon and quickly getting bigger, a ship was coming in. It slowed as it got closer to the harbor, and the dockhand quickly moved to the large bell that was situated at the end of the pier. She rang it, the clear sound carrying over the water and around the harbor, letting everyone within earshot that the ship was coming in.

It was huge, much larger than the ships Seona had ridden on before. The dockhand came back to stand beside the short paladin and pointed to the ship that was now preparing to dock, slowly approaching the pier. "They covered her prow in metal armor to allow her to break through the ice up north. She's powered by a steam engine, too, thanks to the gnomes and dwarves, so she makes good time." She stooped to pick up Seona's luggage and placed it near the crates of supplies that would be going along as well.

The ship was at least twice the size of the sailing ships the Alliance used to get from the Eastern Kingdoms to Kalimdor. The armor that covered the prow was beautifully shaped to form a gryphon's head. Seona could see scratches, though, near the water's edge. She couldn't imagine ice on the water that could scratch metal like that, but she imagined she'd find out soon enough. The steam engine made a terrible racket as well, nearly spooking Caliburn, but her hand steadied him. "Come now, Cal. That engine can't be worse than all the things you've seen at this point."

Finally, the enormous ship came to a stop at the end of the pier and the dockhands quickly unloaded its cargo. Seona was sad to see that some of the things unloaded were coffins. She sent a prayer to the gods for the dead and prepared to board. As she led Caliburn up the ramp onto the ship, she turned her head to the wind. Strangely, it smelt of winter, salt, and ice.

She was ready. She was ready to face the cold north, to fight the Scourge where it lived. She was ready to become stronger than ever before. She was ready to finally find Arthas... and help bring him to Justice.

Northrend, Seona is coming. Are you ready?

Brothers: Beginning

"By the gods, Laric, he's too young!" she yelled, her deep, brown eyes filling with angry tears. The man she addressed almost seemed not to hear her, his own eyes dark, his straight, brown hair falling loose to hide his features. She couldn't stop him, she knew that, he was a knight and her lord. He was far too powerful, too stubborn, and too set in his ways. His armor gleamed in the lamplight, and he had his helmet tucked securely under his arm.

"Hannah," he said, almost a whisper, "Do not ever tell me how to raise my sons. Ever. Loem is old enough, at eleven, especially in these times of war, to serve me as a squire. He's intelligent and further ahead than most pages his age as it is. He's ready. I've made my decision, he's ready to go." He buckled and tightened his vambraces, the symbol of Lordaeron clearly visible on their metal surface, with the blue and maroon ribbons representing Laric's house surrounding the crest. Hannah knew, outside, his warhorse was waiting and no doubt Loem was there, too, waiting for his Master and father.

"Laric... Laric, he's a boy. A young boy. You're taking him to war, to fight orcs and gods know what else, and-"

"Enough. You will address me as 'Lord Laric' or not at all." Laric turned, his face hard as stone. "Hannah, I've asked you to care for Leodry. I've asked you this because you were my wife's best and closest friend, nearly a sister, and I trust you. But that's enough. You, as a woman, do not have the capacity to understand the rigors of war and battle, and that's fine. In fact, I am glad that you do not have to know these things, as it's for a man to know, not one of such fragile constitution as yourself. Loem is going to be fine. He'll be in camp, tending to me on the road... never on a battlefield. He'll be constantly surrounded by some of the finest warriors and knights Lordaeron has to offer. I do not fear for his safety. Neither should you."

With that, he turned to go. Hannah followed, afraid, but unable to convince him. Lord Laric's warhorse and two packhorses were outside, one carrying the eleven-year-old Loem, already wearing his father's colors and carrying a small banner with Laric's crest, the other laden with supplies for their long journey. Loem seemed at ease, even excited, but it did nothing to quell the fear in Hannah's heart. This was Elaine's son, her best friend's boy, and it tugged at her heart as if he was her own flesh and blood.

Laric turned to another boy, much younger than the squire mounted nearby. Unlike his lithe, even graceful brother, he was shorter and had broader shoulders. His eyes were green, like his mother's, but he was built like his father, stocky and strong. And, also like his father, Leodry could be terribly stubborn. Even before Hannah could make it down the path after the armored knight, she could hear the boy complaining.

"I want to go with you, father! Loem gets to go! I'm strong! I can fight!"

Laric smiled. "Loem is much older than you, and has trained very hard as my squire. When I get home from the battles, I'll make sure you continue your own training. Maybe I'll even bring you your first sword, if you're good for Auntie Hannah, or maybe an orcish axe as tall as you are." He ran his hand over his younger son's head, grinning sadly, for a moment like any father saying goodbye... but it ended quickly as he gently but firmly pushed his son towards the waiting woman.

She wanted to run forward and scoop him up into her arms, to comfort him, but she couldn't... not with her lord still here who would no doubt find that overstepping her bounds. The poor boy carried only a single small bag and it probably carried all his possessions. The stubborn lord was known to live a spartan life and no doubt tried to get his sons to do the same. She pitied him, pitied both boys, who have had to grow up without a mother. At least Loem had some time with her, before bearing Leodry into the world took Elaine's life.

"Hannah," Laric said, swinging into his saddle, "Take care of him. Make sure he continues his training. Make him work, give him discipline. I don't want my boy going soft while I'm away." With that, he turned his horse and left. Hannah and Leodry stood, watching the knight and squire's backs as they rode away, Leodry trying his best to hide tears and cry quietly so that his father wouldn't hear.

"Oh, Leodry... you can cry. It's alright," she whispered. The young boy just shook his head.

"Papa says I shouldn't cry. That tears don't make things better, just make you look weak."

Hannah sighed, exasperated with Lord Laric even more. "Sometimes... sometimes you feel so sad that it's like poison inside you. I always think that tears wash that poison out, that if you keep it inside it makes you sick. So go ahead and cry, Leodry. It'll make you feel a little better."

Hannah waited with the boy until the fireflies were all they could see, then took his hand and led him back to the house. Inside, the fire had burned low and the lamp was nearly out. She and her husband had cleared out a small room for the boy, one they had been using to dry and preserve the harvest from their fields. Though the room still smelled a bit like dried meat, herbs, and jams, it would serve has his room for the hopefully short duration of the war.

"Tomorrow, Uncle Danir will return from the market in town. He'll teach you how to help with the fields, and the plow. I hope you'll be happy here, Leodry. Try to get some sleep." She closed the door behind herself and closed her eyes, a silent prayer on her mind. Elaine... please. Watch over your husband. Watch over your son. I'll do my best to keep your youngest safe from harm, but Loem...

A single tear slid down her cheek and fell into her light brown hair. The night was still and peaceful, but morning couldn't come quickly enough.

Into the Skies of the Outlands

It was terribly hot, but then it was always hot on the peninsula. Affectionately called "Hellfire Peninsula" by the soldiers stationed there, the broken land was characterized by its orange hue, dark skies, and the countless demons that made their home there.

Seona Lightstone, paladin of the Alliance, was riding south at speed, making for the outpost of Honor Hold. Her horse, Caliburn, was accustomed to the harsh conditions at this point and would barely snort at the flames that occasionally erupted from the reddish soil. He was far more concerned when one of the huge sand worms would pop out instead, but even then he'd simply swerve away, allowing his rider to jump off and deal with the threat.

Seona swore a bit as another plume of smoke and flame erupted to their right, closer than she'd like. "I could feel that one, Cal. We'd better get away from this ridge as soon as it's safe." A few Helboars scattered as they pushed onward, squealing and grunting in their wake. Seona ignored them, her eyes fixed on the horizon where the broken keep could be seen through the shimmering heat. Honor Hold held more than just the Alliance. It also held a well-known Gryphon breeder.

For weeks, the lady paladin had been in constant contact with her estate manager back in Ironforge. As soon as she had heard that the gryphon rider and breeder were relocating to Honor Hold she had asked about her funds. She knew the prices would be steep, but learning to fly was not just a dream... it was a necessity. Caliburn had served her well, would continue to serve her well, but the ability to fly would make her tasks far simpler and more efficient.

The broken walls of the keep were looming above her as these thoughts went through her mind, and she breathed a slight sigh of relief as they passed guards and neared the stables. She slowed Caliburn to a walk and looked around for the Wildhammer dwarf that trained the soldiers to fly the gryphons his people so carefully bred for the Alliance army.

She spotted him near the stables, once filled with Alliance warhorses, now home to various young gryphons ready to be sold. He was a solid-looking dwarf, and obviously a Wildhammer. Older, his hair and beard solidly silver, he was nevertheless quite intimidating in his barbaric looking armor and his face covered in the tattoos his clan favored. Still, Seona wouldn't be intimidated. Dismounting, she led Caliburn forward.

He noticed her approach and waved her forward. "'Ere for trainin'?" he asked, his demeanor all business. Seona nodded. "Very well. I'm Hargen Bronzewing. I 'eard you'd be comin' from the guard. Yer Seona Lightstone, correct?" Again, Seona nodded, a little more comfortable. She had done some work for Honor Hold before moving further north to the Temple. It seems her work was remembered.

"Me fee is 540 Gold. Ye can purchase a gryphon from me sister, Grunda, once you've mastered my techniques." He waited, then, patiently, as Seona reached into her pack to sort out the gold. A steep fee indeed, although she got the impression that her standing with the Honor Hold guard may have worked in her favor. Once the money had changed hands, she prepared for her training.

"Truth be told, ye won't need to learn too much new from me. Ye have a good seat on that beast of yourn already. Could see tha' as ye rode in." Seona blushed a bit at the compliment. "I'll jus' teach ye a few new commands fer a gryphon and how to saddle 'em up. Ye've ridden gyphons before, o'course..."

The lesson took only a few hours, but despite his warning of not learning much, Seona found her head filled with all kinds of new information. How to saddle a gryphon, what they ate, how to care for their feathers, how to groom their fur, the commands for flight as well as the ground, how to tell if it was ill or injured... it was a great deal to take in. Still, Hargen was a good teacher and had her flying perfectly by the end of the lesson, as well as saddling and grooming a gryphon without mistakes.

"Good. Ye're ready," he said, clapping her on the back. She smiled, thanking him.

"Master Bronzewing, might I ask for your opinion?" Seona asked, nervous about picking a mount from the collection in the stable.

He smiled. "O'course. I'm glad you did, actually. I know these gryphons like they're me own children. Seeing that beast of yourn already, I know ye can handle something a bit more stubborn. I think I know of a good match fer ye."

Hargen lead her through the stable to a young, golden gryphon. His piercing eyes seemed to look straight through her. He was a proud animal, and intelligent. She didn't reach out to him right away, getting a nod from Hargen for her prudence. "Smart lass. He's a bit of a handful, at first, but once he knows who's boss, he'll settle right down fer ye. He's got endurance and has a bit of growing to do yet. Regardless he'll serve ye well, if ye pick 'im." With that, he turned and left, no doubt needing to train another to ride.

Seona peered into the gryphon's eyes and knew she'd take him. Not just because Hargen thought they made a good pair, but because he seemed familiar somehow. "Tha's a good lad. Finally found yerself a rider, then?"

Grunda had come up quietly, her armor much like her brother's and her face sporting similar tattoos. "'E may not be as flashy as some of our other stock," she said, gesturing to the pure white and the darker varieties of gryphon in the stable that caught the attention of so many other riders, "But he's a good heart. And he'll serve ye till the day 'e dies, 'e will, if ye prove ye can 'andle 'im."

Seona smiled. "I'm certainly willing to do so."

She gave up the last of her gold to Grunda, paying for the beautiful, golden gryphon. Her training fees had already paid for food, supplies, and tack for the animal, so it was simply a matter of leading him out and saddling up.

"I'll call you Zephyr," she whispered, swinging into the saddle, and taking off, the heat falling behind as they spiraled up into the dark, starry sky. "Zephyr."

Thoughts: Worgen

Worgen.

Bestial, angry, dangerous... and the new Alliance race once Cataclysm goes live. I'm beyond excited for Cataclysm, and for the opportunities it will bring. There's time, still, of course. Lots of time. The expansion won't be here until next year, earliest, and it will probably come out around the same time Lich King did. Still, hearing all the news regarding the next expansion is exciting. Ideas have already started cropping up in my head. I'm definitely going to create a worgen, but what class? What gender? What trade-skills will I want my worgen to have? It's a great deal to think about from an RP perspective.

From Blizzard directly, regarding the new Alliance class:

Worgens have a racial ability called Darkflight, which allows the worgen to temporarily increase their movement speed by 70%, and can be used every three minutes. This activated ability, like entering combat, will also force the worgen into its true form. Other worgen racials include a passive 1% increase to all damage, reduced duration from the effects of curses and disease, and a bonus to skinning, as well as the ability to skin faster.

All-in-all, very interesting racials, which allow for added depth for a backstory and lore. So now the questions have to be answered when rolling a new Worgen:

Male or Female? For me, it's purely aesthetic. I'm certain I could roleplay either one just fine. I have a great many male human toons, but not one female (not sure why... perhaps it's due to their eerie way of never blinking). While out of combat, you can choose to look human, so that has to be taken into account. The worgen form is purely cosmetic, although required while in combat, so it's what you'll see most. Perhaps I'll have one of my current toons become infected with the Worgen curse? A worgen rogue would be quite amazing...

What Class? Worgen can be anything but a Paladin or a Shaman. That still leaves Druid, Hunter, Mage, Priest, Rogue, Warlock, Warrior, and Death Knight. That's a great many to choose from. If I were to create one on my RP server, I would no doubt try to level a class I don't currently have near level cap... which is pretty much everything, to be honest (Pally, Death Knight, Warrior are the only ones I have over level 60). Perhaps I will go for that rogue after all... (hehe, poor Loem). A DPS class would benefit from the extra 1% to overall damage, and the reduced damage from diseases/curses/etc. would help in PvP.

What Professions? If I did indeed infect Loem with the Worgen curse, creating a Worgen Rogue character, I'd probably go skinning/leatherworking. To begin with, Worgen get an excellent bonus to skinning. It makes the most sense lore-wise as well. Leatherworking meshes best with skinning, obviously, and I've never actually leveled it up all the way, making it a new experience. At least a rogue will always have need of leather armor.

What's a Worgen's Background? Worgen (at least the playable kind) come from Gilneas, one of the older, human kingdoms on the Eastern Kingdoms continent. It's located behind the large Greymane Wall, sealed off from the rest of the world when the Scourge attacked, shortly after the 2nd war. Essentially, King Greymane chose to abandon the Alliance after coming to the conclusion that the Alliance needed the Gilneans far more than Gilneas needed the Alliance. Unfortunately for him, Arugal, an archmage, decided the only way to hold off the undead Scourge was to summon strange creatures... the Worgen. Barely controllable, Arugal found a way to curse humans with the Worgen affliction, turning them into the beasts. He made them his "children" and took up residence in what is now known as Shadowfang Keep.

New players will start in Gilneas, most probably before the Greymane wall has fallen, with phasing technology used to get the player from their home kingdom to the world outside. This would mean than any character would actually be a native to Gilneas (unless you were really stretching the story, or your character was older than the usual 24 or 25 years old). Or, I suppose you could really, really stretch and say you were one of Arugal's worgen, now freed from his control...

Regardless, I'm excited. I do think that a Worgen will be my second level 85, after my main.