Kenda's heart pounded in her chest. It was time. It was finally time.
Packed like sardines, she and the unit she'd been assigned to waited inside of the basement of a palatial home in one of the residential areas of Suramar. The owner was a sympathizer with the Nightfallen Rebellion, and the forces of Azeroth had jumped at the opportunity to station sleeper cells anywhere they could in preparation for storming the Nighthold. That basement was one of many: boarded up, hidden, and ostensibly used only for storage, all right under the noses of Grand Magistrix Elisande's fanatical supporters.
Most of the two dozen or so people crammed in the basement with her were blood knights, warriors of the Sindorei who would lead the assault against the Legion-allied faction of the nightborne. Being a shadow hunter, Kenda was a member of a rare class without a hall of its own, and had to be embedded as a support class with other units. Being a forest troll, she was more than a little bit uncomfortable being assigned to a mostly blood elven unit. She wasn't prejudiced against the people herself; she really didn't care to generalize about groups of people and most of her compatriots seemed to feel the same. Regardless, there was always a measure of tension in the air, and her exchanges with the Sindorei in the group were overly formal.
Standing against the wall of the basement, Kenda felt one of the blood knights walk up next to her as she peeked out at the surface level. An obviously older fellow with scars, the redheaded elf remained silent for a few seconds.
"It's quiet...a little too quiet," he said while squinting his eyes to watch the empty street.
Although her nervous energy at the impending conflict didn't decrease, she was able to forget about it for the moment. "I not been seeing any more patrols for half an hour...something not be right," she whispered in reply.
The commanding officer, a ranger, noticed them speaking and motioned for them both to approach her at the center of the basement. Much more direct than Kenda was used to hearing from elves, she looked them both over. "When was the last time either of you saw any hostile outside?" she asked with about as much concern as a 300-year-old was likely to display.
Since she was a minority in the group, Kenda initially remained silent and expected the blood knight to speak for them. When the old man also remained silent, she started. "A wrathguard patrol was walking by over thirty minutes ago...after that, nothing. Not even imps."
For a good long while, the ranger just started at the shadow hunter. Kenda had gotten used to the tendency of elves to respond slowly and always take their sweet time to mull over every little detail, but the fact that they were all behind enemy lines automatically raised everyone's level of anxiety. Tapping her foot until she received an answer, she began to wonder if the ranger had become paralyzed by the news.
"We were told to wait here until the warhorn is blown to signal that the barrier around the Sanctum of Order is down," the ranger-commander said thoughtfully. "We'll wait until it is blown and not a moment earlier."
All of the other elves either nodded or remained still, slowly milling about, stretching, and attempting to remain alert. Aside from Kenda, the only other non-elves there was an orc grunt wearing a Silvermoon tabard and a goblin who was in charge of their munitions and rations. The latter was preoccupied by his work while the former brooded silently alongside a few of the elves who appeared just as stoic, leaving the forest troll little to do other than return to the window.
Watching for the odd demon to pass by was making her more nervous by the minute precisely because she didn't see any of them. A scout had informed them that the demons changed their patrol routes frequently based on a sort of geometry that had yet to be deciphered by mortal minds, but even an alien pattern was non existent; there was simply no pattern at all. The white-tiled marketplace in clear view was entirely empty of visibly hostile targets, being filled only with merchants and their...wait...
"You noticed it too, didn't you?"
"Hmm?" Kenda turned to her side to find the old knight speaking to her again.
"The merchants. All of their carts and stalls have been removed from the plaza."
Kenda bit her lower lip in an attempt to stave off the feeling of dread. She failed. "Yeah...but they pulled out slowly. One at a time, yeah?"
Squinting out the little window for a few seconds, the blood knight turned back to regard the commander and shook his head ever so slightly. "We could wait for a moment before we inform the commander. This is the biggest assault undertaken since Hellfire on alternate Draenor...I can envision us being blamed as rumor spreaders if we tell her and it turns out that the merchants simply moved over to another street." For the first time, he looked right at Kenda; it was the first time a blood elf had looked upon her as a respected comrade. "But we both know that isn't the case."
At a loss, Kenda sought something meaningful to say, yet found herself at the end of a progressively longer string of fails that day. "I don't like all this waiting...but I guess we can't be doing anything else," she sighed.
The sound of knuckles wrapping in the basement door caused everyone to freeze. A pin dropping would have echoed for eternity, and even the busybody goblin stopped polishing shields to listen for what the problem was. They'd been under strict orders not to move or respond to any sound until the warhorn had been blown, and the house's owner had repeatedly assured them that once he'd left them into his basement, his interaction with them would end. There was absolutely no reason for anyone to come near the basement at all.
And yet, someone was. And when they knocked a second time, a few of the elves actually shuffled and turned to look at their commander. Her stoicism turned to irritation when the voice of the homeowner waited in through the basement door's keyhole.
"Commander...please, I must speak to you now," the nightborne homeowner whispered.
Everyone froze again, looking to their leader for guidance. Visibly frowning, the ranger's irritation became so intense that most of the elves then began to lower their gazes, waiting for their leader to handle the crisis. Kenda didn't watch the petite ranger ascend the stone steps up to the ground level, but her long ears easily picked up the conversation.
"What are you doing?" the commander huffed at the homeowner angrily, though she didn't have time to say anymore.
"You have to leave! Now, ma'am!" the nightborne sympathizer with the nightfallen whispered back, immediately grabbing the attention of every living soul in the basement. Even a mouse in the corner stood on its hind leg as if enraptured by the urgency in the man's voice. "We've been double crossed!"
"Wait, slow down-"
"They know we're here! Us and two other sleeper cells! My neighbors can take you in, but you have to go now-"
BOOM
Kenda's ears rang as the ground shook beneath her feet. In a fraction of a second, the commander's limp body and the severed limbs of the homeowner were launched in her direction by the crash of smashed floorboards, cinderblocks, and pieces of the ceiling. By the time she'd caught her balance from stumbling, a second tremor rocked the house and caused half of the bottom floor to cave in on top of the goblin.
"Incoming!" shouted one of the blood knights before gurgling on her own blood, though she was behind Kenda and out of earshot when a combination of broken water pipes, cold water, tiles from the sidewalk outside and a freaking queen sized bed smacked into her.
The warhorn was blown.