Hello and welcome all to my first foray into fanfiction!
First, I would like to thank you for clicking the title of this story, I hope you like it enough to stay over and leave your two cents in the review corner!
Last but not least, I do not own Warcraft and everything associated with the franchise. It is the property of Blizzard Entertainment. I also do not own Lord of the Rings. It is the property of J. R. R. Tolkien's heirs and associates, and also of New Line Cinema.
Her father was dead.
Laliani stared in numb shock at the faintly glowing phoenix pendant on her bracelet, a present from her father when he left through the Dark Portal.
He had told her that the moment the phoenix's eyes started glowing, she was to immediately go to Dalaran's bank and withdraw all the gold, jewels and precious magical tomes from his vault - for he would be dead.
Taking a deep breath, the princess in exile left her quarters in one of the purple roofed towers of the Kirin Tor and, pulling up her cloak's hood to conceal her face, hastened through the busy streets toward the imposing building that housed the bank.
She kept her head low on the way, knowing that revealing her identity as Kael'thas' daughter was asking for trouble, even here in the Sanctuary of Dalaran. Her father was not well-loved in Azeroth anymore.
Having finally reached the bank, she approached a free goblin teller and showed him the bracelet, as her father had instructed. She thanked the stars for the goblins' notorious neutrality when the goblin simply gestured her to follow him into the deepest bowels of the bank, where the most important vaults were maintained.
She thanked the small being with a whisper and proceeded to levitate all the contents of the vault into her money pouch, enchanted to be weightless and nigh endless. After, she asked for her own vault and emptied it as well. All her tailoring and enchanting supplies went into separate bags, as well as her jewelry and numerous magical tomes.
She left the bank as inconspicuously as she entered, and made trips to the apothecary to buy healing and mana potions, spell power elixirs and augmenting potions for her vast mana reserves. Next, she visited her favorite food stores and bought enough food to feed an army - or so she thought - and filled her enchanted flask with fresh and clear water from Dalaran's main fountain - which was said to be so imbued with latent magic that a single mouthful would quell the thirst of a mage for a whole day.
Chores done, she returned to her quarters, avoiding the busiest streets where many Blood Elves were already celebrating the death of the 'Traitor Prince' .
Once inside, she packed all her things neatly and stored them in her travel bags, all organized by type and labeled accordingly.
Sighing, she took one last look at her empty room, gathering her glossy strawberry blond hair in a messy bun on top of her head, and grabbed her favorite staff.
Everything was ready.
With decisive steps, she approached a sturdy wooden table on which lay a single scroll, filled with complicated runes and magical diagrams.
Sooner or later, they would come for her, those she had once called her people. Even if the Kirin Tor maintained their stance of neutrality, she knew there was no chance of ever being accepted, or living a peaceful life. She would never walk among the summer scented forests of Eversong Woods, never see the glorious halls of the rebuilt Silvermoon City.
She would not survive living anywhere in Azeroth.
With another deep breath, she gathered her mana and started chanting the words scribbled on the scroll in her own hand.
A rift in the space/time continuum started forming in the rune circle painted on her floor, slowly coalescing into a somewhat stable portal.
It hummed ominously and there was no discernible location she could see it taking her to, but it was her only chance.
She burned the now spent scroll with a thought and stepped in front of the rift.
It was time to start a new life in a new world.
She closed her eyes - and stepped forward.