Wow. This was quite a project. I finished "Band of Blood Brothers" about a year ago, and promised a story from the Alliance's perspective. Writing this, I realize something: I don't like the Alliance. No offense to any of my Alliance readers, but my heart belongs to the Horde. Anyway, writing this was an experience. The current story is completely different from what I had in mind a year ago. I think that's for the best. This arc is six chapters long. I am writing a second arc, but I don't know if that will be done by the time this arc is finished. Posts will come every Tuesday night. I hope you enjoy it, and feel free to leave a review. And I would advise reading "Band of Blood Brothers" (see profile) first, since this is a continuation, and has many returning characters.

Chapter 1

Wonki was scared, which was a common emotion for her to feel. After all, what rational creature would not feel fear when combating an enraged feral orc, charging forward, only the boiling anger that pumped through his veins driving him on. Or when faced with an army of zealous humans, who were convinced that any not with them were those to be destroyed. She was scarred when she summoned demons to fight alongside her, though she did not show fear, for to show fear was to show weakness, and demons didn't take kindly to weakness. She was even scared when she saw Taff: the grey bull who towered over her and who's strength with magic rivaled her own.

But here, there were no fel orcs, snarling and seething with endless rage. Here there were no zealots who would charge forward no matter how much she pleaded to stop. Here there were no demons to summon or dominate, and she would love to see Taff, or any other friendly face for that matter. In the room there was only her and Marcus Twoblade, her closest superior.

Wonki's chair wobbled every time she shifted her weight, and was too short for her to comfortably see over the table. Twoblade had assured her this was not an interrogation. He had lied.

"Good morning sub-commander, how is your arm?"

Wonki looked down at her left arm, which was kept safe in a sling. "It's healing."

"You understand what you're here for? Start from the beginning. Take your time and go slow."

Wonki took a long breathe before starting. "The operation was supposed to be a standard salt."

"What does salt mean?" he interrupted.

"You know what it means. You're just trying to throw me off balance. That's why you took the leveler off my chair leg and that's why you gave me too short of a chair."

"I'm sorry. Maybe I can get you a few books to sit on. Would that help you see me better?"

She sighed, brushing her green hair out of her eyes. "Sometimes it's not enough just to kill the enemies of the Alliance. Sometimes they, and all their followers need to disappear without a trace. Salt. Something of a search and destroy operation in the most extreme sense. Find the enemy, kill the enemy, kill any of the enemy's associates. Anyone who had contact with the enemy is eliminated. Wipe him from the face of Azeroth. Burn it down and salt the earth. Needless to say, it is only done in extreme situations. Would you like me to explain what 'extreme' means?"

"Continue, sub-commander."

"The target was Luga Slimescale. Secondary targets were any of his associates. They were a clan of murlocs who had taken to raiding ships along the coast of Darkshore. There was supposed to be only five of them, so it was deemed that Commander Bracha and I would be able to neutralize the threat."

"If it was only five, why go with the salt option?"

"I don't know for sure sir. I was simply given the orders. Murlocs are often underestimated. They're smarter than most people thing. Maybe Lugu was one of the smartest. Regardless, a salt was authorized, and we were sent in.

"Bracha and I arrived in Darkshore approximately two weeks ago. We attempted to gather information on the murloc clan, but no one knew anything. Several men had left the town to slay the fishmen. None had returned. We thought nothing of it at the time. These were merchants and fishermen after all, their weapons were wood cutting axes and single shot muskets. Commander Bracha and I had been through a lot: slain demons, slaughtered orcs, killed giant centaurs. We thought we could handle a few murlocs."

"Never underestimate the enemy, sub-commander. You should know that. They teach it in basic training."

Wonki had an unimaginable urge to jump over the table and hurt Twoblades. Slowly break her knuckles against his jaw. Gouge out his eyes. Bite him. What ever it took to cause him pain.

"Yes sir, you are right. Never underestimate your opponent. They also teach to trust what your superiors tell you, and never question your orders. The intelligence said there were five murlocs. Our orders were to purge the shores of them.

"The raids always happened at night, so at night we went out, hoping we could find their camp without engaging them. If we knew where they were, we could watch them, see their strength and work from there. Bracha and I traveled along the beach, searching for some signs. But we found nothing. I mean nothing. We walked the entire length of the shore, and we couldn't find a single sign that anything had been living on those beaches. No extinguished fires. No scraps of food. No discarded weapons, or pieces of weapons. Nothing.

"It was way too clean. Murlocs are like a cancer: they spread as far as they can. They wander around, looking for something to pillage or rape. They aren't careful creatures. They aren't clever. If they were anywhere in a fifty mile radius, there should have been something. This was way too clean to be just a couple of fish-men.

"We started thinking what might have been happening. Maybe it was the Horde that was raiding everyone, blaming the murlocs. Maybe it was the Bloodsails. But it wasn't murlocs alone. That much we knew, or at least we figured.

"So the next logical step was into the water. I know a spell that would give us unending breath, but Commander Bracha refused."

"Why?" Twoblades asked.

Wonki paused, thinking of her next words carefully. "Commander Bracha was a soldier of strict morals."

"She didn't want your demon magic afflicting her?"

The gnome bit her lip. "It is common knowledge that I practice the darker arts. Monthly, my physiological state is tested and gauged. Commander Bracha still did not desire my aid."

"So while you swam with unending breathe, your commander was left to drown?"

"You humans have a saying, a cliché really. You humans are so fond of your clichés after all. I think it goes: 'you can lead a horse to water, but you can't make it drink.' What would you have liked me to do, cast it upon her without her permission? The commander would have continued to swim to the surface just to spite me."

"Just continue, sub-commander."

"We decided that, perhaps, we could find the murloc tribe in the water, occupying the wreckage of one of the downed ships. I had a bad feeling about it."

"The lack of garbage?"

"I know how stupid it sounds. But it just didn't make sense: the fact that the murlocs would cover their tracks so efficiently. Why would they? What would they have to gain from it? They raided the ships, they weren't concerned with retaliation of the Alliance forces, so why where they hiding their camps. Even if they were living in the water, there should have been some evidence of where they emerged onto the beach. Footprints, anything. I just had a feeling that something was wrong.

"Commander Bracha wanted to continue with the purge. We stripped out of our armor and swam to the nearest wreckage, inspecting it for any signs of encampment. We found something."

She paused. Unsure. Scared. Nervous.

"The mine you mentioned in your initial report?" Twoblades asked.

A cold chill climbed at Wonki's spine. "I opened a door without thinking much. It must have been wired. As I said, these weren't your typical murlocs. So many things were wrong. I should have just left. I should have just smacked Bracha over the head and dragged her back to Darkshore. But I didn't, and I opened a door to enter the wreckage, and there was just this huge boom and this bright flash."

"How did you now what kind of an explosive it was?"

"I study explosives. I got a decent look at it as a swam into the room, right before it went off.

"Everything is a blur then. A bright, blinding white light. An ear shattering boom. My left eardrum had popped, as I put in my report.

"After a few hours, I regained consciousness, washed up on the shore. I don't know exactly how long I was out. I don't know if Commander Bracha is alive or dead, but I fear the worst."

"Do you have any idea how you have survived the explosion?"

Wonki nodded weakly. "I believe that Commander Bracha formed a shield with the Light that protected me from the brunt of the explosion. However, in doing so, she would not be able to defend herself. I must have been blown close to the shore, and my unending breath would have allowed me to float in the water for a few minutes until I washed up. I don't think Bracha," she paused. "I fear the worse.

"When I regained consciousness, I managed, barely, to reach Darkshore, where I was treated for a broken arm, blown ear drum, several lacerations, and three cracked ribs. Considering I was directly beside a depth charge, even with the Light shielding me, I consider myself extremely lucky."

"Why not have the arm healed, instead of the cast?"

"Nature is always better than magic," she offered. "It heals better naturally."

Twoblades leaned back in his chair. "You must understand our suspicion. What with the allegations of you working with members of the Horde."

"Those allegations have no backing," she snapped.

"But they are there, none the less. And, now your commander dies in the line of duty."

"Performing on mission that you sent me on, sir."

Twoblades sighed. "Thank you for your time, sub-commander. You are free to go."

"Thank you," Wonki said. She leapt off the chair, landing with care, as not to further injure her ribs or arm. She left the room, never turning back to the human.