A/N: Inspired by Siege of Orgrimmar. This story will take place during the first part of the Mists of Pandaria expansion and will carry into the Siege of Orgrimmar raid. I have researched the Mists of Pandaria lore to no end for this story, but if I happen to slip somewhere along the way, please let me know and I will fix the mistake. Anyway, I hope you enjoy the story.

Disclaimer: I own nothing associated with World of Warcraft. I only own Trisen, Emiska and Rapxer. The characters Traylon and Zorrion (who appear later on in the story) belong to my friend Yazzy Dollface. The characters Mathias and Rodonov belong to my friend rodonov. They were gracious enough to let me borrow their characters.


She stood in the parched wastes of Durotar. There was nothing to see for miles in any direction. The world was colourless, just stark grey and pure white. She looked down at her hands. She could see the ground through them. She gazed up again and saw a scorpid lying dead a few feet away. Deep lacerations littered the creature's body. Blood had pooled around the corpse, drawing the attention of a Raptor that was stalking nearby.

She looked around the wasteland. Something was missing. Where was her body? If she was dead, her corpse should be close by. The Death Knight glanced down at the ground. A pool of blood stained the rock. No doubt that was where her body should have been. Then, she heard it. A soft voice on the wind. Trisen spun around, her ponytail whipping around her head. The voice came again, this time a bit clearer.

Suddenly, it felt as though something had grabbed her by the throat and yanked her across the expanse of the wasteland. The next thing she knew, Trisen was coughing and gasping for air. She opened her eyes as she regained her breath. She was in a small hut, lying on a mat with a crudely made pillow under her head. Trisen gazed around the small space. It was decorated in charms and artifacts she didn't recognize.

"Ah, good. The spell worked," came a rough, deep voice.

Trisen sat up when she saw the Orc standing in the doorway. He was young, but seemed wise for his age. He wore the robes of a mage. She didn't even know the Orcs had mages. But, then, there was a lot of things she didn't know. Or rather, couldn't remember. Her life before the Lich King was blank. All she could remember were the Death Knights and Ebon Hold. They weren't the pleasant of memories, but they were the only ones she had.

"Are you..." Trisen trailed off, coughing to clear her raspy throat. "Are you the one who brought me back?" she asked.

The Orc mage smiled. "No. That gift was given to my sister, Emiska. My name is Mathias. And this is my home. I found you out in the wastelands, half dead. It appeared as though you had a run in with a particularly testy scorpid. Unfortunately, by the time I got you back here, your body and spirit had separated."

"You mean I died before you could heal me," Trisen said.

Mathias nodded. "Yes. I was coming back from a trip to Sen'jin Village. That was when I found you."

"Thank you for saving me," Trisen said. "I was beginning to wonder if I was bound to walk Azeroth as a spirit for eternity."

"Well, it's not everyday that one brings back a Death Knight from death," Mathias commented. "Which leads me to my next question. What is a Death Knight doing here in Durotar?"

Trisen looked away, blue eyes haunted. "We...defected," she answered with some difficulty.

"You left the Lich King's side?" Mathias asked in disbelief.

"Things happened," Trisen replied. "Too much detail. It's a long story, and one that I'm not proud of."

"Then, let me ask a simpler question," Mathias said. "What is your name?"

The Death Knight looked up at him. "Trisen," she answered. "Trisen Stormrider. It's the only thing I have left of my old life."

Mathias gave her a respective bow. "A pleasure to meet you, Trisen Stormrider."

Trisen smiled. "A pleasure to meet you, too, Mathias," she said.

She winced and put an arm around her stomach. Mathias hummed in thought.

"Perhaps I shall call for Emiska. It would seem you are still in need of some healing," he commented. "Wait one moment."

He left the hut, leaving Trisen to her thoughts. She took the time to examine herself. Her armour was badly damaged, it would take some time to repair. She glanced down to see her axes lying next to the mat. They weren't so bad, a little dented, but nothing a forge couldn't fix. Then, she wondered if there was a forge nearby. She didn't even know where she was.

Trisen was brought out of her thoughts when another Orc, this one female, stepped into the hut. She wore the robes of a shaman. Two gold rings were pierced through the tops of both of her ears, and she also wore a gold nose ring. Her dark purple hair seemed a bit off against her green skin. It was done in a Mohawk up top and was braided at the bottom.

"Loktar," the shaman greeted.

"Uh...hello," Trisen replied back.

The shaman stepped forward and knelt down beside her. "I'm Emiska. You were a tricky one to pull back from the spirit realm."

"Well, I'm glad you were able to pull me back," Trisen told her.

Emiska smiled. "No one likes being dead," she commented.

Trisen chuckled. "I dare say not," she agreed.

Emiska placed her hands on Trisen's shoulders and gently guided her back against the pillow. Trisen was surprised at how gentle the Orc's strong hands were as they felt around her abdomen. Emiska hummed in thought.

"Seems there's still some inner bleeding that didn't right itself," she mused.

She held her hand out towards a bowl of water. It lifted out of the bowl, following Emiska's hand movements. She guided the water over the source of the wound and held it there. Trisen felt a strange sensation run throughout her body. She let out a strained breath as she felt her innards fix themselves. She could also feel other wounds begin to heal themselves. Her strength slowly began to return.

"That should do it," Emiska said, putting the water back in the bowl. "You're free to walk around, but I wouldn't suggest getting into any fights. Not with that damaged armour. You wouldn't last ten minutes."

Trisen looked at her armour and sighed. "No, I suppose not," she said. "Is there a forge around here?"

Emiska nodded. "Of course."

"Good. I will have to get to work on fixing my armour as quickly as possible," Trisen said.

"What's the rush?" Emiska asked.

Trisen looked at her, blue eyes questioning. "What do you mean?"

"Well," Emiska started. "It's not everyday I get to meet a Death Knight. Let alone bring one back from the dead." Her green skin seemed to darken as if she were blushing. "To be honest, I'm curious to know what makes you tick. There aren't a whole lot of Death Knights in the Valley of Trials. The only visitors we get are Trolls from Sen'jin Village."

Trisen sighed and nodded in understanding. "I guess I can stick around for another little while," she said.

The young Orc beamed. "I'll get you a change of clothes and I can bring your armour to the blacksmith." She got up and went to a chest on the other side of the hut. "I know it doesn't have the protection of plate, but not much goes on around here, so these robes should do the job."

Emiska handed the robes to Trisen, who held them up. She glanced up at the shaman. Emiska blushed.

"Granted they were made for an Orc," she admitted. "So, sizing might be an issue."

"No, no. They'll be fine," Trisen assured her with a smile.

Emiska smiled. "Alright. I'll let you get changed."

When she was out of the hut, Trisen began to undo the clasps of her armour. She dropped the plates on the ground, feeling unnaturally light without the heaviness of the armour. Trisen pulled the robes on. She held her arms out beside her. No doubt they were made for an Orc. She was swimming in the robes. But, Emiska and Mathias were generous enough to bring her back from death and open up their home to her. The least she could do was show them common courtesy.

Trisen gathered up her damaged armour and stepped outside the hut. The sun belted down without mercy. Trisen blinked against the harsh light of the sun and looked around. So, this was the Valley of Trials. Emiska wasn't joking when she said not much went on. There was a boar ranch on one side and a forge on the other. Trisen blew her bangs out of her eyes.

"This should be interesting," she muttered under her breath.


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