Heba
From EFWiki
Nightfall.
Beneath the searing hot sun of the Silithian dunes, the Bedouin of Silithus persevered for generations, quiet, unseen and engrossed in their own private conflict spanning back over the centuries since their flight from the holy temple city of Ahn Qiraj. For the most part, lost to antiquity and locked behind the sacred Scarab Wall along with the Liar's Voice and their anscestors fables and nightmares, the three Tribes of humans carved out a nomadic existance, moving from shelter to shelter, a pattern remembered and passed down from each generation to the next. Being forced to share their homeland with the Hives and the insect terror which poured across the land, the Bedouin came to live in a semi symbiotic relationship with their hunters, using the creatures natural habbits and cycles to exist and avoid erradication. The collection of water from the chitten covered Hive entrances in the late evenings, when the insects retreated into the warmth of the Hive, careful introduction of stolen larva from one hive to the next, to ensure the ever raging conflict between one caste of the creatures and the others, giving them more to focus on, besides the endless hunt for the two legged prey.
During the final years of the third war, the occupants of the never ending cycle found their routines thrown into chaos by the arrival of a new people. Outsiders to the dunes, obviously from beyond the jungle bowl cutting them off from the world at large. A collection of races and people, these outsiders set to work creating a series of blasphemous acts of rape upon the ancient Bedouin sites of faith. The great stone monoliths, since the founding of the tribes and the exile from the city were dug from their resting places, the sands around them sullied and tainted with un-natural wards, driving the Hives into a frenzy of activity and sending the Bedouin into full flight. Trapped between the aggresive swarms of roaming Silithid and the concept of facing their "home" invaded so completely, the tribes united in one gathering for the first time in known memory. A desperate strike back as one, openly and for the first time since their exile, in full sight. The three tribes of Silithus would go to war, and the Cultists would fall by knife.
From the jungle crater, unseen and unheard by the three seperate forces, arrived a forth, by chance the timing to prove the deciding factor in the events to come, the Cenarion Circle had come in pursuit of the Twilight Hammer, determined to catch them and erradicate the threat before they could do any lasting harm to the prison ward set in place at Ahn Qiraj millenia ago.
Riding down as the dusk fell across the dunes, the Nightelf host arrived to find the Hammerite camp in a state of complete chaos. The worshipers of the Old God had apparently given into their usual lust for swift reward, and had turned upon one another. Screaming fanatics ran riot through the make shift tents, a trail of red stained sand and fallen bodies heaped in their passing.
Seizing this moment of opportunity, the Cenarion Host rode down through the dusk, masked by the screams of the combatants below and with simple, brutal efficent drill, carved through the tangle of fighting cultists. The aftermath later that night proved something of a disturbing revalation for the Night Elf commander. Several basic, but beautiful weapons had been recovered from the fray. Robes, worn and repaired against the harsh Silithian climate bearing none of the glyphs and wards favored by the Hammers. It was at this point, the Circle begain to suspect that they had perhaps missed something in their rush to end the conflict. Regardless, and largely unknown to the gathered victors, the end of a small people had come about in the rushed swing of a blade. The scattered remnants lost to their seperate ways. Against the backdrop of the night calm, one small group continued their frantic flight across the dunes from the invaders and the world for Heba El Amin Alsaieed changed beyond recognition forever.
