Here follows an account of recent events in Eberk's life. In Plaguelands yet again he hunts the undead scourge, collecting proof of his victory to gain rank in the Argent Dawn.
Eberk swung his axe once again, the holy light put upon it by his Seal of Righteousness shimmering as it cleaved through the soft flesh of the ghoul. Panting Eberk withdrew a book from his pack and refreshed his Blessing of Wisdom. "Light, give me the wisdom to defeat my enemies." After a few minutes he felt energized enough to continue. More and more scourge fell before Kazaxe, and after a few hours Eberk's mind caught the now familiar numbness brought on by the continuous destruction. Mounting his trusty ram Pan, Eberk journeyed back and forth, cutting down any enemy he spied. Suddenly in the bushes he noticed movement, and sprung to the ground, Kazaxe at the ready. "Come out and fight, mindless retch!" Out came a dwarf. At the sight of this newcomer Eberk lost the feeling in his hands and Kazaxe fell to the ground, its flame licking at the rotten leaves and grass. "Khor...?" "Aye, brother it's me. You shouldn't leave Burnfate on the grass like that, you'll start a fire." Eberk slowly picked up the axe and wrapped it in the runecloth that resisted it's flame. "Why are ya here? An' why arn't ya attacking me?" Khor smirked. "Do you want me to? Brother, I came to see you. Next we meet it will be on the field of battle, and father is getting impatient for a change. Keep getting stronger, brother, but don't lose yourself in the process. Do that and this'll all be for nothing." Eberk pondered the words of his brother for a moment before asking, "Where is father?" "Depends. Define 'where'." Eberk sighed, frustrated a bit by his brother's disregard for simplicity. "What country is he in?" "That complicates things further. I will answer that he is in the Burning Steppes." Eberk scowled. "Fine, I don't want to solve yer riddles. Leave me in peace or return with me to Ironforge." Khor sighed and for the first time seemed sullen. "I cannot. Say hello to sister for me." And so he withdrew into the bushes again, and Eberk scowled and returned to slay more scourge.
Eberk drew the summoning runes quickly on the ground outside of Darkshire, eager to get moving. Once all was prepared he called upon his power to summon his steed, the horse he had named Hammerhoof. "This is a far journey we're goin' on Hammer. Ye'll have ta go faster than ever, on account of I have no time to deal with the monsters on the way to the Dark Portal. Ready?" Hammerhoof snorted in acknowledgment and raced off to the east. Eberk checked his map again, he had only been to the Blasted Lands once before. "Right, east to the swamp, then south..." Engaged in reading the map, Eberk didn't notice the man perched on a rock up ahead, a mace ready in his hand. As Hammerhoof raced closer the man let fly a mighty swing and knocked Eberk clear to the ground. The summon failed and Hammerhoof disappeared in a flash of light. Eberk stood slowly, holding his head. "Ow, wha' happened, did I hit a branch?" The man, right behind Eberk now, chuckled quietly. "Nay, dwarf, it was I who knocked you from your steed. Do you need a bandage?" Eberk looked at the strange man. He was dressed all in black save for the green marks that covered his cloak and gloves. Eberk called upon his healing powers and mended the bruise on his forehead. "No. Why'd ya do that?" The man noted how Eberk slowly reached for the axe covered in runecloth at his back. "I needed your attention. Now that I have it, I need to give you something." Eberk sighed, not in the mood for games. "Hand it over then, I'm in a hurry." The figure took out a rock. The stone had carved in it lines that wrapped around it, glowing green. "That looks like a bit of the statues in Uldaman, the ones Dark Irons use to attack people," Eberk observed. "Aye, friend, it is such. This is a Heart Core. It will track the monolith from which it was removed." "And why do I need this?" The man chuckled again. "Why, because your father is trapped within that monolith."
Eberk's eyes were dazzled for a moment as he looked up into this new sky. The sky in Outlands was so different from the sky in Azeroth. A battle cry from a passing human clad in armor brought him back to his senses.He watched for a moment as the human rushed into the heat of the ensuing battle nearby, and then, briefly wishing he could join him, went off to find whoever was in charge there.
Honor Hold was as safe a place as one could hope for in Outlands. Eberk went back and forth, doing different assignments and earning reputation and, more importantly, new weapons and armor. By the time he returned to the Dark Portal on his way to Ironforge he looked like a new dwarf. Pan, Eberk's loyal ram, bleeted a greeting as Eberk mounted the saddle. Eberk had never forgotten the stone the strange man gave to him, and at last he had decided to search for his father.
Eberk approached the great house of his father with a mixture of anger, regret, and happiness. "Should I really be doing this?" Eberk thought to himself, "Da's a traitor, why should I care what happens to him?" A flash of anger came over Eberk as he thought of that day, when he found his father to be in the service of the Dark Iron dwarves. "He's not even me da anymore, I've turned my back to that shamed clan! I'm an Ironstrike no longer!" Entering the house he looked upon the familiar sights, everything was exactly how he had left it. His anger slowed slightly as he picked up an old carving he had made from clay when he was young. It had a striking resemblence to his brother Khor, Eberk had always been good with his hands. Putting the carving down gently he went up the ancient stairs and entered his fathers room. A smell of dust and rotting books flowed out of the room and Eberk had to hold his nose to enter fully. Lighting a the lamp he searched for what he had come for: his father's old journal. Soon he found it and began to read the later additions. A few minutes later he sighed and flung the book away. "So he really is in the Burning Steppes, the old fool. If Khor won't do anything to help him, I guess I can't just stand by." Eberk stood slowly and blew out the lantern. "On my way, 'Da'."
Dust and ash billowed in a cloud behind Hammerhoof as Eberk sped across the scorched land of the Burning Steppes. Looking left and right in quick jerks of his neck he searched for any sign of Dark Irons. One happened to be on the path up ahead and Eberk buried his boots in his steed, urging him faster. As he came within feet of the dwarf Eberk held out Kazaxe and with a flash of fire severed the Dark Iron's arm from his body. Eberk's warcry covered the scream of the Dark Iron as he leap from his horse and held the burning axe to his enemies neck. The flames licked at the Dark Iron's mask, slowly scorching it. In one, sudden movement Eberk flung the dwarf against a charred wall. "Where can I find the statue this goes to?!" He had taken out the stone the stranger had given him, and it's lines glowed with a steady green pulse. The Dark Iron smirked. "Look's like on o' the stones that go to our monoliths. Yer Ebrik then?" A fraction of the rage in Eberk's eyes cooled at the sound of his old name. For some reason a memory flashed in his mind, of his mother. Right before she died, he heard her whisper his name...Ebrik... In an instant he was back in the moment, and pushed the Dark Iron further against the wall, which creaked and groaned. "Where is he?" The dwarf looked toward the north and out the side of his mouth. Better run, little Ironstrike, he's scheduled to be fused today. A short shove of Kazaxe and the Dark Iron's head fell to the ground. Eberk shoved the rest through the blackened wall. ((more to come, under construction))