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The Guild by Owen Jones
Both figures stood a head and a half taller than the veiled sentry, stripped at the waist to reveal heavily muscled upper bodies with long, unkept blonde hair - they were obviously Horde. One of the Horde sported a curved scar, visible even from Beli's distance, down across his cheek to the join of his mouth. He winked and drew a large bow.
A dark-feathered arrow the length of Beli's leg hit the dirt a finger's breadth from his feet before he could react.
"Need another invitation do we?"
Scar stood with a broad smirk on his face whilst his friend doubled up with laughter. Beli was frozen to the spot.
The sentry's voice spoke above the amusement.
"Enter Belian son of Davranar or begone, the gate will not remain open much longer."
To ram home the point a second arrow hit the ground, closer still to Beli's feet.
It was enough. Mustering all the courage he could, Beli walked slowly across the drawbridge and beyond the portcullis, which shut with ominous finality.
Inside the concave chamber the mystery was solved. Exits cut at right angles to the wall giving the impression that the chamber was completely enclosed, when in reality two horses could comfortably exit from either side of the wall. The chamber could easily be held against greater numbers and had seemingly done so at sometime in the recent past. Both the sides and back wall were dotted with the marks and stains of battle, fading now under the sunlight of time but evident enough to suggest this castle did more than house a Guild.
Beli chose the left opening and walked through into a large courtyard decorated with buildings. Ahead, in the very centre of the courtyard, stood a massive, multi-storey building attached to five smaller buildings. Surprisingly each of the smaller buildings joined the main one by means of a covered walkway on the second floor. To the east of the central building was a jousting area overlooked by one of the four watchtowers that rose in each corner of the outerwall. To the west a training square was marked out next to a smaller building of unclear purpose.
"Do you have the paper boy?"
Beli turned sheepishly having been caught unawares again. He came head to chest with Scar.
"Ye ye yes sir," he said tentatively offering the letter of acceptance to the Guild.
"Yes sir? Ha I don't want it fool. Where are my arrows?"
"The ones I shot at those feet you are about to lose if you repeat me again."
"I don't have them, they must still be in the ground outside."
"You useless ...."
"Enough Garrin. Show me the papers lad."
The sentry stretched out his gloved hand. Beli had not seen or heard him come down from his post.
"Good. Take this into that entrance there," the sentry pointed to a side door to the central building, "and ask for Agrabar, he will tell you what you need to know next."
"He can get my bloody arrows first."
"I don't believe so, they are not his. What is the third rule Garrin."
Scar looked venomously at the sentry before walking away muttering under his breath.
"The Horde are miserable bastards lad, get used to it if you are to stay here. Now go."
With that the sentry turned and darted up the stairs to his post on the wall.