Author's notes: This would be the first fanfiction I've actually written in about five years. I needed to get myself back in the creative game, so I figured I'd do something I've always wanted to do.
I've never written a Lord of the Rings fanfic before, so I decided to have fun with it. I fully expect this to be the worst fanfiction known to man-kind, and, along the way, I actually made it my goal to take a concept I really wanted to write but KNEW was just terrible, and make it even worst. My internal conversation went something like this:
"I want to write this crazy Mary-Su. But it must be worse than a normal Mary-Su. The only other thing worse is.. Furry Mary-Sues. Even worse would be a crossover furry Mary-Su. Hallo there, World of Warcraft crossover:D"
Thus, this will almost definitely be the worst fanfiction ever written. XD
I have no expectations. I'm just fooling around. Feedback will be giggled over, flames hung on my wall in nice frames.
The two WoW characters in this story are characters I've actually rolled and played. :3
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Displaced
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The midday sunlight grazed over the tree-lined canopy like a fawn nibbling gently on fresh-dewed grass, crafting a peaceful afternoon for anyone that had entered the silent museum-masterpiece of nature. The return of the spring season had encouraged growth and beauty from the foliage; the soft earth received only shadow-cased light as the leaves above hungrily ate what the sun bestowed upon them.
Ordinarily, all would be well for another day – or perhaps another season – had a pair of figures not interrupted the near silent air.
"This isn't Alterac Valley." Came the stunned, albeit astute comment from the first hulking figure. She peered around the unfamiliar landscape, boggling in numb confusion.
"Maybe the portal malfunctioned." A second woman – only inches shorter than her companion – shrugged.
"They're portals. They're not supposed to malfunction." The taller of the two stared at her friend. "You tell them where you want to go, and you go."
The other rolled her eyes. "Anything engineered by a goblin malfunctions at some point."
"Touché." The taller woman blinked, too stunned to find real humor in the situation. "So.. Where do you think we are?"
The smaller woman – cast in white, save for the dark blue robes coating her frame – looked around the forest and tall trees. "Maybe we're in Azshara. These kind of trees don't grow in Feralas, and the only other places I know of with these trees are all tropical."
The taller, darker woman fingered one of her long, thick braids hanging at both side of her skull. "Damn. I hate Azshara. Crazy giant golems and tiny rabid dragons, assuming you don't fall off a bridge."
The smaller woman smirked, following her friend as she started to move away; ever since her steed tossed her off one of those bridges, she's been ornery.
The two walked by the trees for only a short while, wary of any of the spoken-of giants or dragons. It was, at best, half an hour later when the taller one stopped cold, metal armor clanging in response to her sudden pause.
"Hiiaka?" The other woman blinked. "What –"
"Mahalia, to the trees. Up. Now. Something's weird." The dark woman – Hiiaka – gripped at thick branches to follow her own instructions. She didn't even glance to her companion, instead looking down to the ground when she believed a decent height was achieved.
A few minutes passed in silence. Just as Hiiaka started to believe she had heard and sensed nothing at all did sharp yelling and grunting meet her ears. Cobalt eyes narrowed as she peered down. What she saw were odd, scarred and twisted green figures – she barely called them orcs, since they appeared nothing like the orcs she knew and spoke with daily – moving along, garbed in dark, wicked-looking armor.
These were not friendly creatures. She wasn't really sure what they were, really.
Hiiaka would have been content to simply wait for the bizarre, likely fel creatures to walk on by, had they not decided to stop and make camp directly underneath her. She swore inside her own skull. At least these branches were firm, she supposed.
"Look." Mahalia whispered in her ear. Hiiaka turned to look at her friend, and almost jumped at the large hawk that met her instead.
"For the love of.." Hiiaka kept her voice low, panting. "Warn me next time..!" Oh, how the shape-shifting of Druids annoyed her. One moment, they would be a perfectly ordinary person, and the next, they would be a cat or a bird or some other animal she couldn't even think of.
"Look!" Mahalia prodded her again, gesturing with a feathered wing to a blood-coated figure, bound and tied amidst the green creatures.
"Oh." Hiiaka blinked. "That's not good." She wasn't really sure what this tied-up creature was, either; she would have guessed a human, had it not been for the delicate frame and slightly pointed ears. A half-elf? The elves she knew had ears long enough to twirl in the air. Whatever it was, it was bound, bloody, almost certainly a prisoner, and likely not conscious.
The dark woman pondered, bovine-like snout twisting in displeasure; she was a warrior and a soldier, and the small piece of honor lying within her heart was making quite a bit of noise. They had no idea what the situation was, but there was a captive in pain, and those green creatures were certainly not friendly or on their way to a peace treaty. The sharp kick one of the green, fel creatures brought to the figure's stomach – followed by the wicked laugh – really only made this point clearer.
"Mahalia.." Hiiaka whispered. "Fly up and around. Check how many there are."
"Are you insane?" Her now hawk-like friend hissed. "They'll recognize me as a Druid and fire me down!"
"Look at them." Hiiaka gestured. "Not a single one of them are in robes or carry staves. There's not a magic user or Druid there. They won't recognize you."
Mahalia shifted on the branch, going from talon to talon. With the eventual roll of her eyes, she fluttered up and off.
A small smirk crosses Hiiaka's snout; Mahalia had always been paranoid and a worrier. She supposed it came with the teachings of a healer and a Druid. It worked rather well, she supposed, against her own brash and battle-ready actions. The dark woman couldn't count the number of times her best friend and cousin had healed her after a sparring match gone wrong, or getting tossed off a bridge by a rabid steed.
Several minutes passed before the Druid landed on the branch again; somehow, she had escaped notice by the green creatures below. "At least forty of them. Maybe fifty. They have a trail behind them for several miles. And there's a small party of people like the prisoner making their way here."
"A rescue party?" Hiiaka pondered this. "How many?"
"Twenty. Twenty-five, tops." Mahalia frowned. "Outnumbered two to one, and these fel things have a hostage."
"Great." Hiiaka smirked. "We'll wait for the rescue party to get here, and then jump in as a distraction."
"Hiia, no." Mahalia twitched. "I have a young son at home! If I die here, then Veo will get sent to an orphanage and no one will adopt him because there's so many babies in the orphanages and he'll grow up alone and be angry because he didn't have his mother there and then he'll become an axe-murderer and go on a rampage and destroy half of Shattrath! Is that what you want, Hiiaka?! Half of Shattrath gone?!" All this was spoken in a single, rushed breath; she took in a deep breath as soon as the last of her air and words were gone.
A few seconds of silence passed as Hiiaka stared at her friend, brows raised. "..Okay, new plan. You stay here and do nothing. And if anything happens, you can fly away, and go back home. Okay?" A nervous grin.
Mahalia settled down in silence, feathers puffed up in stress.
---
The cacophony of thundering hooves met a quick end when the lead rider held up a hand. A moment of pause was given as the party of soldiers listened to their surroundings.
The lead rider gave a curt nod, gesturing to the direction he desired before his horse moved on. They were close to their target, and they were not going to leave without their captured brother-in-arms. They were not entirely certain how long their fellow elf had been in the hands of brutish orcs; he had left on the hunting trip with several others a fortnight before, and they had only found the bodies of the rest several days prior.
The elf was of no particularly important family or lineage; simply one of their own that had landed in a poor, likely deadly and torturous situation. The lead rider – a captain, and close friend of the kidnapped – had managed to convince twenty others to help with the rescue. He feared it was not enough, and they would all be sent to their deaths.
Yet, he could not simply let his friend die without any possibility of hope.
The horses were stopped again only a short distance from the orcs. The collection of elves moved in to the underbrush, aiming their arrows. A pregnant pause before they fired.
The next moment was sheer chaos; orcs let out bellowing war cries as elvish weaponry made their marks.
---
"They're not doing so good." Hiiaka frowned; the twenty or so would-be rescuers had gone from charging in with bows, arrows, swords and daggers to barely holding their own within a short few minutes.
However, the orcs were distracted by the attack; none guarded their prisoner. Not that the bound figure could escape on his own, but the action itself implied the prisoners' lack of importance.
"Here I go!" Hiiaka barely warned her still hawk-shaped friend as she settled the large helmet over her skull and leapt off of the branch, armored hooves landing soundly on the earth below.
---
The sudden appearance of the strange monstrosity actually gave pause to both elf and orc alike; both thought that, perhaps, it was reinforcement to the other side. The confusion lasted all of three seconds.
The dark figure pulled a large sword from a sheath on it's back with both of it's large armored hands – a red, bulging thing that should not have been physically possible to carry – and started swinging at the orcs. That made it clear whose side it was on, at least.
Aellon, the lead rider to this particular party of elves, had been granted a brief moment between fighting for his life and trying to find his captured friend to glance at the bizarre figure. He didn't know who or what it was – too tall and bulky to be elf, perhaps an incredibly tall man --, but it certainly had some skill.
---
The green things were not paying attention to her. Hiiaka snorted; looks like they thought the smaller, barely armored rescuers more of a threat, or perhaps they wanted them dead more than they wanted her dead.
Either way, they were really not paying much attention to her. A swing of her blade severed a green head from it's body, leaving her to stand there, staring at the fight around her.
"Hey!" She let out an enraged shout. "Come and get me, you motherless bastards!"
She didn't know if they understood her, but her tone was enough to get a good number of the green things at her. With a sly smirk, she gripped her blade and spun.
The tactic her instructors had dubbed 'whirlwind' was as much a dance as it was an actual attack; much in the way athletes performed a hammer throw, she stepped from hoof to hoof, focusing more on where she was stepping and to keep spinning than what she hit.
---
The large, armored man was.. Twirling. Aellon had never seen such a tactic used; the large blade was being spun by the hulking body twirling in place. It was shockingly effective, slicing in to and, at times, through armor, and severing limbs from bodies.
The spinning stopped; the large man paused only to catch his breath – and perhaps to recover from moving in place so quickly. The surviving orcs still around it were stunned just long enough for the hulking man to get his bearings.
A chance glance to the side gave Aellon what he needed; he rushed forward, spotting his bound and unconscious friend and ally.
---
Hiiaka was absolutely and positively insane, Mahalia decided. Really, there was no other reason why her cousin would simply rush in to a situation she was neither involved in personally, nor had anything to gain out of. If her good friend got killed again, she wasn't going to revive her this time. There were only so many times a Druid could raise the dead before it became sheer stupidity to do it.
Mahalia was fairly certain this counted as 'stupid'.
At any rate, she stayed where she was in the trees, sticking to her flight form. It was a good vantage point to the battle, and she could always fly away if things continued to progress as badly as it was.
Although the combined forces of human-like things and Hiiaka were taking the fel green things down quickly and in good numbers, there were simply too many of them; at least thirty of the green things were left, and quarter of those were charging at a tiring Tauren.
Oh, she was going to regret this; she absolutely knew she would regret helping her cousin out of a sticky situation again.
With a deep sigh, she changed form again, leaping down from the trees.
---
Aellon lifted his unconscious, but still thankfully alive brethren in to his arms. This poor man would need weeks, if not months to recover from these wounds. Glancing around, he took stock of just how many of his men were still standing – almost all, by some sheer miracle – and where all the other players in this fight were at.
Somehow, he missed the orc behind him; he didn't even have time to turn and defend himself before he saw the likely poison-tipped blade coming at him.
It never hit; when he opened his eyes again, he thought he had begun to hallucinate. Had he been hit by poison earlier in the fight and not noticed? How else could he explain the large, bull-horned lion tearing the orcs' throat apart with large claws?
The shock was enough to keep him kneeling in place, clinging to his friend's body. The horned lion stared at him, as if wondering why he wasn't moving. Then, the lion nudged him with a paw.
Somehow, the paw on his knee snapped him out of it; he stood, shook his head, and ran for his men. They had what they wanted; they needed to get out of here.
---
The human-like people were running. Hiiaka blinked at that; there were a good two dozen of the fel green things left, and they were running? That seemed terribly rude.
Well, if she was going to be left here, she may as well make it as difficult as possible to take her down. Gripping her crimson blade in her gloved hands, she went on a rampage.
A fellow warrior had dubbed it the 'tank and spank'; rushing in to take near brutal amounts of damage on her armor and flesh while smacking as many opponents as possible with her weapon of choice. Without having to worry about hitting the pointy-eared humans, she felt free to simply hit whatever moved.
She didn't keep track of time, but it must have been a good half hour – perhaps even less – before she found no more opponents to hit. It took a few seconds to realize she was covered in dark, almost dead blood, guts, gore, and took stock of just how many green bodies were around her.
Panting and gasping, a slow grin crossed her face. She collapsed back, landing on her rear end; her legs were shaking too terribly to stand now. "That.. Was awesome!"
---
Aellon stepped forward; he had handed his injured friend to faster riders, too intrigued by the hulking man and bizarre lion-like creature that had been such a beneficial help to simply leave them there. The man was on the forest floor, drenched in orcish blood.
"Aiya!" He greeted in Quenya, not knowing what language the creature spoke. He suddenly noticed the hooves; he stared at them, stunned.
"..Eh?" The man seemed to stare – the bulky helmet made his face completely enshrouded, but the very deep voice seemed to agree with the assumed gender. "Ru?" The hulking man waved his arms a bit, trying to get back to his shaking feet. Hooves. "Uden lo!"
The hooved creature was speaking a language he wasn't familiar with.
The horned lion calmly walked by him; Aellon jumped a little as the fur brushed his side. The lion snorted at the flailing man, letting the hooved creature use him as a lift to get back to his feet.
When the helmet was lifted off, Aellon nearly ran in terror; the bovine, almost cow-like face that met his sight was completely unnatural and unexpected. The deep ebony flesh and fur along with long, thick braids and – now that he could see it properly – breasts in the molded silver, purple and black armor forced him to gape.
This.. Creature was a female, monstrous creature. Aellon barely noticed the rest of his men pointing arrows and swords at it.
---
Hiiaka was not amused. After saving these tiny pointy eared humans, they saw she was a Tauren and immediately had weapons pointed at her. The swift conclusion was that these men were very, very rude.
She couldn't blame Mahalia for staying in her feline form; they thought her less of a threat, perhaps believing she was nothing more than a dumb beast. Whatever the case, it didn't help the pointy weapons in her direction.
Not that she resisted; she simply glared, very unhappy, as the pink things forced her along without actually touching her with their weapons. They kept a good few feet away, but still had their swords at her back.
"Damn tiny people." Hiiaka snorted. "The tinier, the more rude they are."
Mahalia only snorted, just as unhappy.
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Author's notes: Short chapter, I know. I'm curious to see how many flames I get before jumping in some more.
wicked cackle