Hey there. This is the beginnings of something I've had tossing around in my head for awhile and decided to actually sit down and write out. I've decided to share it with people in the hopes that putting myself out there will inspire me to continue it.
This is very much a Work in Progress. Chapters are apt to be edited and changed without notice. Warcraft belongs to Blizzard, no argument there. Characters in this story, with the exception of cameo's by NPC's, are imaginary and are not based on any actual player characters. Any resemblance in names, races, and classes is purely coincidental. I came up with most names based on random syllables in my head, but I apologize for any duplicates, since there's only so many possible combinations in the English language.
Please don't tell my guild I'm bumming around the world of fanfiction; they'll never let me live it down. .And if any of my guild finds it by their own efforts, well then, we'll just have to share each other's secret won't we? ;)
1
Despite the fog, she could feel the air get dryer as she approached the top of the pass leading out of the great swamp. The cool morning mists became a chill wind as her mount, sensing the end of the climb, broke into a run. She let him, and for a few moments the only noise she could hear in the early quiet was the grunting of her horse and the muffled drumming of his hooves on the road.
They reached the summit and she let him slow to a stop. It was rather anticlimactic, as any impressive views from the top had been cut down to about five yards in any direction. Despite this, she turned in her saddle and squinted her glowing eyes to peer into the murk behind her and let out a clipped whistle.
After a moment, a section of fog peeled itself away and trotted toward her. The ghostly effect was spoiled when the shape sat down to chew energetically at an offending spot on its hindquarters.
She waited until the wolf had gotten up, shaken the dew from his long grey fur, and approached the horse before she dug around in her saddlebag. His ears perked at this familiar sight and he sat down, tongue lolling expectantly.
"Good boy, not much out there but fungus, is there?" She smiled as she tossed him a piece of dried meat. "No worries, there will be better hunting soon."
She left him worrying at his tough morning snack and walked the horse a few yards further down the road, hoping that the mists were clearer around the bend ahead. She stopped when she heard the heavy echo of another rider approaching from somewhere in the murk ahead. Long ears straining, she was able to pick up a pattern as it approached. One two, one two, one...
She stiffened, heart in her throat. Bipedal mount…. It was the sound of heavy leathery feet, not the metallic clank of a Gnomish mechanostrider. She whistled for her pet again, this time more urgently. Horde.
She turned and saw the wolf sniffling around in the dust for any missed scraps. "Sitka! Come!" she snapped, and he wheeled and trotted to her without hesitation. With nowhere to go in the barren pass, all she could do was unsling her bow and wait, hoping that her readiness would deter any trouble.
As the footfalls got louder, a strange silhouette emerged from the fog. Bouncy yet fast, with a long swaying tail. It was a raptor, probably carrying a troll. She allowed herself to relax, but only slightly. In her experience, a lone troll rarely attacked without good reason. But the mount was no guarantee on the identity of the rider, she reminded herself sternly, since many races had forgone traditional mounts in recent times. Her own choice of mount attested to this fact (although most other night elves scoffed at her for her choice). And for that matter, the Horde rider could still decide to attack a solitary hunter, whether she was prepared or not. This wasn't Azeroth; other adventurers and explorers were few and far between, and help wasn't about to pop up from behind a bush or come running at her yells. Outland was a brave new world of lawlessness and injustice.
The rider was finally close enough to see, and it was in fact a troll. A dark shape loping next to his raptor proved him to be a hunter as well. She tightened her grip on the bow sitting conspicuously on her lap and her horse whinnied nervously, either from sensing his rider's tension or from the close proximity of a large predator.
The troll, however, didn't even slow down. As he passed her, he nodded and gave a jaunty wave of his hand. She blinked in confusion, and watched as his pet, a black worg, ran up and had a sniffing diplomatic parley with her own pet. The rider disappeared into the fog back down the road to the marshlands she had just left, with the worg following his master's whistle soon after.
Sitka went back to digging for fleas on his rump, unshaken by the exchange. His master was a bit more nonplussed. Such a simple interaction with the enemy was almost unprecedented in her experience, in this world or the last. She reflected on it for a minute before laughing out loud, startling her already nervous horse.
"Brave new world, indeed.…" she muttered to herself and clicked her mount back into a walk.
It had been almost a month since Thara had crossed the portal. That day had been steeped in confusion and fear, but she remembered it with horrible clarity, and doubtless would for the rest of her life.
She had rarely visited the red vistas of the Blasted Lands before then, preferring the more well-trod corners of the world, but that day it seemed like the Portal was some great vortex that had pulled the entirety of civilization to its doorstep. Armies and warriors of all races milled about in shell-shocked confusion, occasionally pulling together to fight off some minor demon that tore through the gateway. Thunder cracked almost constantly overhead, drowning out the noise of fighting and armor clanking, of bellowed orders and the screams of horses and wolves alike. Enemies and heroes from the entire world stood shoulder to shoulder, but all gazes were focused on the great glimmering gateway of stone.
There was a lull in the fighting, and a bloodied orc warrior yelled from the top of the ramp down to where she and a knot of other adventurers stood waiting. Before she knew it, they were being shuffled up the ramp by a mixed group of defenders, all exhausted and filthy enough that she could barely tell Alliance from Horde. The orc yelled some orders in the Horde tongue, which was repeated in Common by a young human commander next to him.
"We have secured the portal, but only for now. All travelers who wish to go through must do so immediately!"
Thara hesitated, overwhelmed by the violence and confusion. Sitka crouched almost on top of her feet, whining and trying to bury his face in her boot. It was all too much, too real, unlike anything she had ever experienced, and it was only the beginning of the new world.
She was about to take a step back when she turned and met the eyes of the adventurer next to her. She didn't even flinch when she realized it was a Forsaken, a race she normally shunned and despised. But she did pause when she saw the look on the warlock's face. Despite the waxy skin and already-pallid appearance, it matched hers exactly.
Thara smiled at the woman despite herself. The undead paused, then matched it with a broken grin of her own. Without a word, Thara bent down, gathered up the quivering Sitka into her arms, and went through the Portal.
As she rode through the pass, Thara reflected on that day. The stench and horror of Hellfire Peninsula seemed even more unreal in the quiet morning mist. The fog began to thin as the sun climbed higher, until by midmorning only the bends in the road obscured her vision.
She came to the end of the pass and found herself looking out at a wide valley of the Terrokar Forest. The fog still clung low, so it looked like she stood on the shore of a vast silver sea. Tall, exotic pines climbed above the mist, reminding her of cypress in a swamp, but on an even vaster scale. Above the trees hung a morning-blue sky that could have been like any other from home, except for the eerie ribbons of light cutting through.
Sitka sniffed the air cautiously, then trotted ahead. The road rounded yet another bend before finally descending into the valley. Enjoying the feeling of the sun, Thara let her horse amble along after the wolf. When they rounded the corner, though, she reined in the horse in surprise and shock.
Out in the valley, far closer than she had been expecting, an alien metropolis rose above the fog. Vast walls and ancient buildings stood mired in jungle, broken but strong. Graceful terraces and bridges layered the city and climbed up the mountainside behind it. Everything was made of warm sandstone, embedded sporadically with large crystals, like jewels in a crown. Strange carvings across the surfaces of the buildings were made even more indecipherable by the accumulated weathering of wind and water. Moving shadows cast by drifting clouds or swaying branches across the complex walls made the whole city seem twistingly alive. In the center of it all, a great structure rose above the rest, not quite a dome but not quite anything else familiar either. From the center of this building shot a beam of spiraling light that didn't fade or waver until it disappeared into the heavens above.
Thara sat and gazed at the city in awe. She had heard stories from other explorers, even locals, describing her destination, but nothing had prepared her for what she was now seeing.
A snort from her horse brought her back to her senses. Beautiful or not, it was just a city, and right now there were more important issues than sightseeing. She was tired, her horse was tired, and Sitka was in dire need of something besides that week-old jerky she had been feeding him, no better than boot leather. Even so, her gaze didn't waver as she rode down the hill toward Shattrath City.