Shadow PvP: Encounter in Hammerfall, Arathi Basin

It is Lunar Festival, the time of year where I must travel across Azeroth to honor the Elders of old. I land at Hammerfall, a small horde outpost, where I can provision myself before continuing deep into Alliance territory.

I stop at the inn to change out of dusty travel clothes. I hear the cry of battle outside the wall, and a guard rushes in to warn everyone of an attack at the gate. Quickly I change into my Gladiator gear, and shift into Shadowform.

At the front gate, a level 80 warrior is quickly mowing down the guards. I shield myself, then set about building my shadow weave around him. Disease and Shadow surround him just as he stuns and strikes me. My shields and armor hold true, and his damage is of little consequence. My Mind Flay slows him as he tries to position himself to my back, but I jump and turn, then quickly disarm him with my Horror. I weave, cast, and shield myself. His health is quickly fading, so he turns to run away, but my Devouring Plague and Shadow Word:Pain ticks down till he falls facedown in the dirt.

I sneer at his body, and turn toward the second foe: a Death Knight. He, too, falls before my dark magic. His ghoul cannot penetrate my shields, and my Scream only serves to open the foolhardy Death Knight to my offensive attacks. Soon he, like his comrade, falls at my feet.

I duck into the inn to wash my hands of dust and gore. The innkeeper hands me a tankard of ale with his thanks. I lift the drink to my lips, and hear another cry of alarm. The warrior is back.

Abandoning my drink, I quickly make my way to the courtyard. The warrior tries to take me down, but his rage and frustration makes him sloppy. He is felled in moments. I pause, expecting his companion to come at me from a hidden spot, but there is no attack. Toeing the corpse with distaste, I order the guard to get rid of the stench. I mount upon my Black Mammoth, and start to make my way south, toward Thelsamar.