Rhodesia’s real mother (Elizabeth Christianson) lived a somewhat private, insignificant life before meeting her husband. She married 7 years before Rhod was born, but her husband was unable to have children. Dale Christianson, mercenary privateer, was tied with the Goblins of Ratchet. His primary means of earning an income was as a medium for the trade (primarily rare ore) between the neutral Troll tribes and the Dwarves, who have no political trade agreements as a result of the ongoing Alliance / Horde Conflict. Dale often contracted pirate vessels, or privateers, to execute noncommissioned shipments, thus he was also banded a suspected pirate by Ironforge intelligence (despite the fact he hated Pirates).

“I would have nothing to do with pirates, but Ironforge will not recognize the neutral Troll tribes unless they pledge their allegiance to the Alliance”, Dale argued. “Every time a small tribe makes such a pledge to either party, the tribe is eradicated if not by the Horde with an alliance flag strung, then by the Alliance with the Horde’s flag strung”. Dale was a capitalist, but also felt a sense of pride in his relations with the foreign tribesman. “When this war is over, Ironforge and the rest of the world will celebrate peace with the Trolls”, Dale often declared. “They are an ancient race whose talents and abilities should be cherished, not destroyed.” The Troll tribes traditionally pay with artifacts. These artifacts can heal the wounded, dispel dark curses, purge poisons, and some can even bring the recently deceased back to life. He sells these artifacts to merchants in various parts of the world, such as Darnassus and Stormwind.

On a normal summer morning, and after negotiating a small timber contract, Dale departed Ratchet for Stranglethorn Vale. Elizabeth would usually partake on the voyages, but due to the nature of the crew he had contracted, she would stay behind this journey. Unbeknown to her, he would not return for nearly 3 years. Months after she declared he was missing, Elizabeth spent every gold coin she had trying to discover the whereabouts of her husband. Alone, and with very little money, she was forced to abandon her effort and move on.

Beth met many merchants, soldiers, commoners, and noblemen in her years of residence in the Barrens with her husband. Ratchet’s own royalty had done business with her husband countless times. It wasn’t difficult for her to find a place to live, or a friend to eat with, but it was not her character to ask for charity. As such, her heart grew cold and bitter in her months of solitude, survival, and growing independence. A lonely widow was not her life, it was not her way. She belonged on the sea or in a home with her husband! Knowing she could not find peace in Ratchet, she would later find brothers and sisters who would fill the void in her life, resurrecting the lifeless adventurer’s heart of her youth.

She had a friend on the Merchant Coast, south of Ratchet, who invited her to meet with some of her brethren. Not usually keen to such things, her friend convinced her she would have the time of her life. “Relax, forget, move on”, convincing Beth she can live on. “Your husband wouldn’t want you to live a depressed and meaningless existence after he died, if he did, he wouldn’t have been a truly loving husband”, she argued. Beth agreed.
After a few weeks partying with the men and women of the Southsea Pirates, and becoming fonder of them despite her murderous lifelong perceptions, she would quickly find herself among them. Everyone knew her name, and her theirs. Growing attached to the Pirate’s kin who were among the sharpest and quick witted she had ever met, and enjoying the festivities the independent lifestyle offered over and over again, it wasn’t long before she swore her oath to the family of the Southsea and took up refuge with them in the Eastern Barrens.

Several months passed, she had become quite a talented rogue and an incredibly independent individual. She grew fond of ales and spirits. She had no problem finding a man to share her interests with, and even entered into short term relationships with some. It was the pirate’s life as usual for such an adventurous spirit as Beth’s. Before she met her husband, and while they were together, nothing could stop her adventurous yearn for greater challenges, but there was one challenge she would not be ready for. Something she had only dreamed about with Dale was beckoning at the most inopportune time. Her eating habits were changing, she grew easily dehydrated, and after nearly two months free of her inherent female “routine”, she had realized that in the heights of her growing independence she became pregnant.

The nearby Orcish fleets often ran training missions nearby, so the pirates were known to set to sea, if Orcs got too close to the merchant coast. The ships set to sea to hide, if not prepare for a confrontation, and she would often participate in the evacuations. Crowded below deck, she met pirate named Aurick. Not an easy name to forget, Aurick was the son of a privateer her husband was well acquainted with. When they discovered each other’s identities, he quickly told her that her husband was with Aurick’s father in the Stormwind Stockades and had been in jail for nearly three years. Excited, happy, but also emotionally devastated by the news, she began to feel her husband’s love again. The warmth, spreading through her body like a hot cup of tea in the middle of a blizzard, she knew she had to do something.

When the ships docked, she quickly dressed into her commoner’s clothing and rode to Ratchet with over two hundred gold she had borrowed from the Pirate Commander’s hidden loot cellar. Lucky for her, the Commander of the Southsea Pirates had told her that she was free to exploit his wealth; he envied her deeds and character among the pirates and cherished her as his sister more so than others. She didn’t tell him what it was for, in fact he didn’t even ask. With it, she hired 5 brave Alliance mercenaries to retrieve her husband, which they had successfully accomplished at the cost of one of their own.
(While the details are not entirely certain, they had petty agents infiltrate the prisons and instigate an uprising. They then offered their services to the nobles to quell the uprising, freeing the agents and her husband)

Her husband didn’t know she was behind it until he returned, but it was not as glorious of a homecoming as one would imagine. A month had passed, and her belly began to swell. His spirits (and hers) had returned, and the fear she had felt at first was nearly silent. She behaved as wife, loving him as though nothing had ever happened. He, though more reserved than he used to be, had also returned to emotional normalcy and content. While attending to their dinner, and with cooked boar on the table courtesy of her husband’s excellent baking, she reached for her dagger. In 15 seconds, she had carved 20 chops. Another minute passed, and she had filleted 5 of them. She then turned to her husband, who watched silently in shock. She begged that he not be frightened, but he was obviously caught off guard.

“I’ve never seen you move so quickly before, how did you…”, he stuttered.
She walked to the table with two plates, and sat down. “Dale, I have something I have to tell you, please sit down and don’t get angry” she disclaimed. “You are my husband, and I have always loved you, even after you died” she said, holding back tears of sheer guilt.

He slowly sat down, and turned his complete attention to her. She lifted a lockbox from the floor, and opened it. She drew out a Southsea sash, and a tightly knit leather chest piece. “I have seen these clothes before, they are the stitching of the Southsea Pirates” he pondered. “You didn’t kill one did you?” he asked calmly.
She replied, “When you didn’t return home, nobody knew where you were.”
He, having explained to her many times, continued to explain “they ambushed us, we were sent to different internment camps spread across all of Kalimdor and the Eastern Kingdom, nobody escaped the blitz, not even a deckhand.”
“I thought you were dead, I sold every possession we had, spent every gold we had trying to find you” she wept. “I was alone, scared, I needed to move on”, she begged.

She could tell by his breath that he knew what she meant in her subtle language. At first Dale had taken the news well, he knew her friend in the Southsea fleet and they got along well. He knew Beth’s youthful instincts and adventurous passions, and understood his wife’s character enough to know she could easily find comfort in anarchy and adventure. Beth was an energetic, tough, and incredibly sharp women, it’s not something she can hide from her husband even if she wanted to.

Adapting, Dale over the next few weeks actually grew curious to know more about his wife’s second existence. The little things intrigued him, surprised him, and sometimes even made him jealous of her. He discovered he could no longer run away from her, she could sprint right next to him and not even break a sweat. Once, a leak sprung from the roof during a downpour, and before he could reach for his latter and in pouring rain, she had pulled herself to its summit and hammered a patch. Call it feeling replaced, but Dale began to feel his only use to her as a man around the house was comforting her though the emotional trials of pregnancy, which he accepted megrely.

Dale was known to visit the taverns at Ratchet before his incident with the Stormwind Monarchy. There were Gobblins, Gnomes, even Orcs and Tauren that frequented its festivities. Some were pirates, out of uniform and quite content quietly mingling with the common folk and visitors to Ratchet. There was one pirate he knew well, nicknamed Nuckle. Nuckle is a huge, well built, fast-talking deck officer who had a strange way of charming the ladies. Dale hated his guts, although ego has much to do with it, an explanation will come later. Dale, having worked with the Southsea on many occasions for various hush shipments is also obviously the only non-Southsea who knows Nuckle is a pirate. He also happens to be the only black Southsea pirate, the nation of the dark complexioned humans is so small they are rarely seen, and tend to draw a lot of attention for this fact. That’s not why Dale hates him, it’s more likely related to the way he would appeal to people instantly while Dale was quite the opposite. It was the way that Nuckle abused his charisma, Dale felt Knuckle intruded on his dealings. Beth knew Dale was both envious and disgusted by him.

Elizabeth gave birth to a dark-skinned human baby baring the same birthmark above his ear as Nuckle (Crayous Tigrus). When Dale stood with the baby in his hands after delivery, his wife’s face covered in sweat and fatigue, he began to tremble. “I uh...” he murmured. “I have to um…” he said again. Beth could sense his obvious change in emotion and awareness, but did not yet understand why. She drew herself toward her as of yet unseen baby and began pouring out tears and forced herself up.

“Dale, no!” she exclaimed. He handed the infant to the caretaker and stormed out of the hostel with incredible fury. Unfortunate for Dale, Elizabeth was too weak to remove herself from the table, although she tried. He never came back to the hostel, but when she walked into their cabin still crying and weak, he was there.

As it turns out, in Dale’s fury he had made his way to the Tavern and started raising hell with the few Southsea Pirates. In his banter, he had exposed their affiliation to the Pirates (posing as common passer-bys), and Nuckle’s who wasn’t present at the time. One of them, as they had fled before Ratchet guards were onto them, strew a hidden blade at Dale’s throat. He moaned deeply and in great seriousness, “My brethren are fond of money you see.” The pirate chuckled as he retracted the blade slowly, and walked out the door. In a dull voice he finished, “tonight I’ll place such a high price on ere head you’ll wish you had rot in that jail until the day you died, mercenary!”

Dale knew he and his wife were in grave danger if he stayed. Knowing he could not embrace his wife’s love without embracing the feeling of betrayal, he said to her stern and focused “I know why you found peace in the arms of another man, but to find peace in the arms of the one person I hate most.” He paused briefly, closing his eye, losing his firm tone to the stutter of emotion trying to escape in his voice. “The one person WE hated most, I can’t even pretend to understand.” She tried to reply, but she couldn’t. “Cray hated our commitment, he hated seeing a women committed to me” he reminded her. “The people I do business with respect him while he insults me!” he further elaborated. “He has cost our family gold, stability, and you know as well as I that he enjoyed it”, he claimed. He began to stand up, eyes on her paling face. He tightened his jacket and said finally, “He enjoyed destroying me, he enjoyed punishing you, and now you are asking me to raise his child and call you wife” he began to show a tear, as though about to cry, but his emotions were quickly subdued by anger and reality. “I’m leaving! you can go back to your family Beth, I’m sure you’ll find love among them.” The sun only a few hours from resting behind the horizon, he raced off to Ratchet.

Continued Next Post...

Beth once again found herself alone, and felt no better now than before except she knew her husband’s love was vanquished. She felt she could return to her brothers and sisters, she knew they would understand. “They are family, they are my blood”, she convinced herself. She wrapped her baby in a bolt of woolen cloth, making a nest out of it. She sewed the nest to a leather jacket firmly, and she rode off. She left what little her and her husband had accumulated in the past months behind, bringing only a small sack of gold and an artifact that was given to her by her husband when they married.

When she began the narrow approach to the first camp, where she would identify herself as a sister of the Southsea, she noticed bright flashes of lights followed by a long dull roar over the hilltops. The post had been abandoned, and the traditionally docked ship was nowhere in sight. Suspecting the worse, she rode slowly to the hilltop, off trail, trying to keep her baby quiet by singing to him. From the summit, she saw both ships at sea and one more not 500 yards away. The dark silhouette was difficult to make out, but it was obvious the ship was not Southsea or Privateer. Just as the ship appeared to be fleeing, it leaned into the ocean and swung about. What looked brighter than the clash of a Legion demon and with abrupt speed, 20 canons began to release a furious firestorm toward the Southsea Pirate vessels. The shells began exploding on the mast and hull, some missing and flying 200 yards beyond into open sea.

She quickly throttled her horse with a loud haw! and rode quickly down the other side of the hill and into the camp. When she looked up her heart swelled into her throat, 4 more juggernauts of the same style were 2000 yards from the first, visible once the mast of the first was out of her line of sight. With not even a small gust of wind in the air, their long oversized rowing paddles extended from the Horde vessels. She could almost faintly hear the heaves of the countless deckhands as the propelled the massive ships closer and closer. One of the Southsea vessels, the one that had just taken the pounding, looked as though it had dropped anchor. The other Pirate vessel was rowing behind it, placing the doomed Pirate ship between the juggernaut and the fleeing vessel, equipped with fewer paddles but obvious speed.

Smart captain, she thought to herself. With the mast in ruins and burning, the torn Southsea vessel had anchored itself as a shield, blocking fire and traffic from the approaching juggernauts. The lighter vessel and numerous rows will advantageously gain greater speed than the heavier Orc vessels pulling it out of range before they can off another broadside. Another loud, thunderous roar and bright flashes poured from the burning vessel. Obviously not every canon, but the cannonballs weren’t like those unleashed by the Orc’s. They were glowing with incredible brilliance. As they fell on the Juggernaut, fireballs consumed the ship. Briefly, the Barrens was as bright as mid afternoon. The plume had begun to dissipate, you could see small embers scurrying on the decks. They weren’t embers, they’re Orc sailors. Some were jumping into the water, while others came to a rest on the deck.

Beth hadn’t realized that her baby was crying, overtaken by the skirmish. She continued to ride through the camp until she found 4 small lifeboats filling with human, gnolls, and Trolls off the shore. She slowly began to ride up when she heard the unmistakable spring of catapults from the opposite end of the hilltops. The fiery balls fell into the camp, setting every tent ablaze but none hitting the boats. She sprang for the boats, jumped off her horse leaving her bags behind except the sack of coin and artifact. She jumped, removed Rhod from her back and handed him to the younger women who sat quietly at the center. She ran for the first rope, cutting it loose, then for the next. “Beth! What are you doing?” a voice murmured. “I’m getting this boat in the water, what’s it look like?”, she screamed.

She ran for the burning tent not 30 feet from the boat, then came running out with several long flat posts. She gave one to the pirate next to her, telling him to pry the boats into the water. Like a lever, the posts nudged the first boat afloat. She pulled a pirate from the boat, into the water, furiously telling him to help her push. He got up, it was Aurick. His head was bleeding and one of his arms were severed from his body. She looked behind her, just in time to see 500 grunt soldiers, 50 yards away, charging toward the shoreline and 3 more fireballs hurling over the hilltop. Two were going straight for the water, the other looked like it was gliding right at her. She turned and gave the boat a final push, while 6 capable Pirates extended their paddles and began to shove away. Aurick fell limp, into the water behind her, head peaking over the top of the rolling waves. “Aurick!” she screamed, but there was no answer. She pushed again and jumped in as the boat began to gain momentum. A huge shockwave of flame and fire engulfed one of the other boats. The passengers, who could, began pouring out of the burning boat into the water. The other boat, next to the smoldering one seemed deserted at first glance, but when the flames which reached out of the top of it began to lose breath, 20 heads popped up and the paddles began rowing and pirates pushing.

Now 400 feet into the water, the grunts began lining up along the shore yelling taunts and making gestures in their foreign tongue. Others were executing the survivors of the catapult blast one by one, and throwing their limbs out toward the fleeing boats. Looking back out to see and having heard no more canon fire, she noticed the closest Orc Juggernaut had grappled to the burning pirate’s ship. Orc marines were pouring onto the smoldering ship. The other three orc juggernauts had retracted their paddles in a line formation along the coast and anchored. The fleeing Southsea vessel was closer to Ratchet now, but more than 20,000 yards to sea. Hoping the vessel would turn back, they continued rowing toward the fleeing ship.

The boat never caught up to the ship, and two more of the now 17 person crew had died during the night. Beth began to interrogate the crew as to what happened, one of the now resting rowers looked at her. “The Orcish infantry has apparently decided to train in the Barrens, and their fleet without weather” he said sarcastically.

Another, furiously panting Gnoll rower growled, “Our beloved Commander was found dead in his cabin this morning, you know anything about that?” he asked.

“This is the first I’ve been back to the camp in over a month, I don’t know anything about anything Grom” she replied.

“The Commander’s arcane keyset was missing, and the Cellar’s completely sealed shut” he elaborated. “Some of us think a traitor told the Orcs about the gold store, killed the Commander, and sealed the Cellars until the invasion, even the hidden one.”

She thought to herself a minute, “Only six of us knew about it, and all of us have been loyal to Grizzix including you Grom.”

“We’ve all been at the camp for the last week, except you and Rufus” he replied.

“I have been either in my husband’s cabin, or in Ratchet for the last 4 months!” she defended.

“I know, and so did Grizzix, we’ve been watching you since you left” Grom stated.

“What?” she exclaimed. “Why would you do that?” She demanded an answer.

“Griz thinks your husband is spying for Stormwind, there was an uprising in the Stockades but I have four brothers who have been in the Stocks for the last year and never saw him, Auche has a friend who escaped who also never saw him, and if we wanted to draw more suspicion to our investigation, we could have asked all the pirates here about their buddies in the Stocks.” he snorted. “But I don’t think we have to.”

Trying to connect dots that can’t be connected, she brings up an interesting point. “He’s been a lot different, but he’s not a spy”, she paused. “He doesn’t have the patience to spy for anyone!” She stated, but thinking harder. “Even if he were a spy for Stormwind, that doesn’t explain the Orcish raid unless the war’s over.”

“It wouldn’t explain it, unless there’s a spy in Stormwind who’s quicker than the brave Alliance intelligence, and much much closer to the Barrens” he remarked. “We can go at it all day, trying to figure out how, why, and what, but the motive is clear: 45,000 gold coins, pirates the Alliance despise and the Horde protest, 4 miles of merchant coast occupancy whom the Horde feel a threat to interests from the Warsong front to Camp Mojache” he pointed to the burning ship as they passed parallel to it. “It makes no difference outside of vengeance and wishful thinking at this point, the Southsea are eliminated, our stockpiled fortunes plundered, leaderless, and only three lifeboats full of injured sailors and a frigate full of a hundred sailors who aren’t getting a paycheck this month” he acknowledged. “And all of us like money as much as our throats, it’s a pirate’s only other love in the world next to his family.”

The remaining crew lies mostly unconscious in their recovery or fatigue. Beth, as well as them, feels like a child who just lost her father, and clinging onto a desperate mother.

It is not commonly accepted, sympathy with Pirates is not a way to make friends. The Southsea are not a moral band of brothers, they don’t earn their keep with any Monarchy, they don’t hold to the ideals of anyone except their own. They, on the other hand, have never robbed a ship or raided a hopeless town. They acquire their gold by looting the debris of this ongoing conflict, scavengers who feed off of the blood of a world at war. Deep down inside, she agrees with Grom, but she wont consciously accept the destruction of the last thing she cares about. She looks at Rhod, sound asleep in the clutch of a sailor.

“Two things” she mumbled quietly.

“Two what?” Grom asked, he can’t read minds.

“Nothing, Grom” she replied.

Beth and the crew of the remaining boats were eventually picked up by their brethren, commanded by nobody. The Orc ships were no longer in site, but the fog of war surrounds the distant sky. Knuckle died commanding the other frigate, with his crew and his ship. The other ship, still fully in tact, sailed as far North as Winterspring before anchoring on a quiet, neglected mountainous coastline. It was later decided that they would make for Steemwheedle Port. The alliance, nor the horde have any interests in that region. If another invasion should take place against them, it’d take a lot more than 45,000G to motivate any naval commander to mobilize and steam a Navy that far, if not an infantry division. They would be near another neutral city, an immaculate front would allow the new settlement to partake in commerce.

4 years later, Beth was given command of a ship of her own. Grizzix placed a lot of trust in her, and after four years, many others could see why. She placed no more value on her own life and pocketbook than the lives and pockets of her brotherhood, and she was considered by many to have noble instincts and the blood of a fighter. Her body was built like a women, but as fit as any man of the same size. Her ability to use her body, wit, instincts, and commanding nature to influence even the least influential were among her greatest qualities.

The settlement’s scouts had informed the settlement commander that four alliance and two horde vessels had skirmished near Durotaur. Enough of them agreed that one of the ships was carrying stockpiles of supplys, shipments, and an estimated ten-thousand gold to Darnassus from Stormwind. Only one Alliance ship made it out, and the three sunken vessel’s exact position were obtained from several off-duty naval officers of the surviving ship at a tavern in Stormwind. A perfect target looting opportunity for the Southsea Pirates, Beth and one other vessel were sent disguised as merchant ships to recover what they could before the alliance beat them to it.

It turned out to be a trap, three alliance battleships met them mid sea. Both Southsea vessels outmaneuvered the three ships, and survived the confrontation, but they would have to resupply before making the trek home. The alliance did not pursue the “merchant” ships, as it turns out they weren’t after the Southsea (and not even aware of their continued existence) but rather another band of Pirates based near Booty Bay. While anchored in Southern Durotaur to resupply, a bad call on Beth’s part, a Horde battle-group surrounded the vessels. The Orcs were not convinced of the disguise, and sank both ships where they rested.
The forty survivors who were at shore during the strike did not make it out of Durotaur. Rhode, 3 ½ years old along with four other pirate children, were placed on an overturned bed frame on the deck, which acted as a life raft as the ship sank. The bed frame washed ashore with other debris a day later, with only two survivors remaining. A five year old Troll who left Rhode, and made his way to Sen’Jin village. Rhode, ironically, was found by an independent Dwarf prospector named Dirk Shortbeard who lived near Ratchet.

Dirk found him and brought him home, but not out of charity. Dirk believed he could scrape a reward for finding a wealthy merchant’s child, having discovered the artifact around his neck worth over a hundred gold. When his exploits failed, his heart although made of rusted iron, did not abandon Rhode. Instead, he raised Rhode for 4 years. Rhode’s height began to overtake the Cabin, so Dirk started to keep him in a tent. A year of that, and mining, and pumping an Anvil for old Dirk who grew more and more bitter over the years, he planned a run for Stormwind.

Rhode started burying a chunk of copper from every vein he discovered. After four months, when Dirk made for Booty Bay to sell his bars, Rhode smelted his stash and made for Ratchet. From Ratchet, he sold some eighty bars of copper for eight gold (to a wandering group of Night Elves), and bought a ride by horseback to Theramore Isle, then to Menethil Harbor, then to Ironforge. After a couple weeks in Ironforge, Rhode decided that Dwarves are too greedy for his taste and made for Stormwind. An eight year old, dressed in dirty clothes and a thick Dwarven accent quickly caught the attention of the regulars, he was turned over to the Cathedral where he was raised as an Orphan.

Rhode had a knack for religion at his young age, and an unusual amount of faith. His knowledge of the Light grew on him naturally, and his perfectionism in the arts (obviously related to Dirk’s aggressive discipline as a 6 year old miner/smelter) caught the eye of a Paladin master trainer. Although much older than most candidates for the program, his inherent self discipline made catching up extremely fluid. When the discipline and perfectionism were instilled in his fellow Paladins as well, his natural abilities had no effect, and he began to struggle. The Holy Paladin Masters rejected him, finding it more productive to work with other Paladins. The Retribution Master took interest, but Rhode found he wasn’t nearly as fascinated by the way of Retribution. Interested in the art of defense, and versed in the ways of the light, and a moderately excelled blacksmith, the Protection Master accepted Rhodesia, and his progress continues today, years later.