This is a one-shot I made in my spare time while I finish hammering out the details of Bolvars folly and Lord of Azeroth. It takes place right before the culling of Stratholme.
Authors note: Well, seeing as it has been a while, I have decided to fix up some of my old stories. If you are just seeing this now, enjoy. May continue if it piques interest.
Warcraft Reign of Chaos: The virtues of Teleportation
Jaina Proudmoore was in a bad mood. Bad enough that the city of Stratholm was in danger of becoming a zombie-infested hellhole. But now her ex-boyfriend seemed to have gone a bit off the deep end. Actually, that was something of an understatement. Arthas had gone and accidentally left his army behind. She was still trying to figure out how he managed it.
Currently, she was running to keep catch up to and Arthas who was at most speed walking. Though figure out how he managed to keep ahead of her while walking, even after fighting off an army of zombies. She really needed to start taking the track. Still, she found it rather confusing that no one except her had seen the obvious solution to the problem.
"Arthas!" she tried to yell, but it only came out as a hoarse wheeze.
She really, really needed to take track at the next opportunity.
Arthas stopped. Not because she had called him, no. But rather because he had run into a mysterious man with a very cool cape. Seriously that cape was awesome. It was a pity the man in question was completely insane because he had excellent fashion sense.
She stopped to catch her breath. Speaking of fashion sense, why did female travel gear consist of skin-tight pants and a belly shirt? She made a mental note to find whoever set the trends in the Lordaeron fashion industry and gut them like a fish.
They deserved it.
Regaining her breath she ran towards Arthas who had just finished. He had told the idiot with the cool cape that he was not going to drop everything and abandon Lordaeron. The idea of wandering into unknown lands on the off chance they'd find allies there didn't appeal. Who knew?
She finally reached Arthas. The guy in the cool cape flew off, uttering some cryptic nonsense which was promptly ignored.
"Arthas I-" she began.
"Don't say it." he cut her off in an annoyed tone.
"But Arthas I just-" she tried again.
"I don't care if that madman can see the future, I will not abandon my people."
"Arthas, seriously!" she said.
"Now we have to get moving before Stratholme is overrun."
"Arthas!" she yelled at the top of her lungs breaking him out of thoughts.
"What!" he said. "Why are you yelling?"
"Because I have been trying to tell you that we don't need to walk to to Stratholme." said Jaina. "I can teleport us straight there and warn them with one spell. We don't need to walk. At all."
"…Oh" he said suddenly broken out of his righteous fury mode "I hadn't even thought of that."
"…Can we go?" she asked.
"Sure why not. I suppose we could teleport there and completely avert the entire catastrophe." he said in a dull tone.
"Disappointed?" asked Jaina, raising an eyebrow.
"Maybe a little." he admitted.
One teleport spell later Arthas and Jaina had reached Stratholme. They warned the guards not to let any grain shipments in from Andorhal. Then they quarantined the roads. By the time Uther arrived the crisis had been completely averted.
Mal'ganis or whatever his name was fled across the channel.
"You all did an excellent job here." said Uther. "I'm just glad that we arrived in time."
"Yeah," said Artha,s "and to think, if we had walked all the way from Hearthglen, we might not have made it in time."
"Quite," said Jaina, "and then one of us might have gone insane with vengeance and turned evil or something."
Arthas remained silent for a moment.
"Arthas, are you alright."
"Yeah, I'm fine." he said. "I was just wondering what happened to the prophet."
Meanwhile, somewhere in Kalimdor, Warchief Thrall received bad news.
"WHAT!" yelled Thrall. "What do you mean the wars over!"
"I mean the wars over." replied the prophet. "As it turns out the humans kind of defeated the Demons invasion. Before Archimonde even set foot in the world."
Grom trembled with rage. "You mean to tell me that we missed the entire war. That the humans got all the glory, and that now we are stranded on this continent for nothing?"
"Not nothing!" said the prophet as he saw the various Orcs reaching for weapons. "After all now you don't have to worry about humans."
"Wow you're right." said Thrall. "Instead we have to deal with centaurs. And quill boars and all manner of other monstrous creatures which do not exist in Lordaeron."
"Well at least you have a new land to call your own." said the prophet.
"You mean this flat barred wasteland where hardly anything grows except shrub-grass?" said Thrall motioning to the surrounding area.
"Yeah… that…" the Prophet sighed "...You're going to kill me now aren't you."
Grom unslung his axe. The rest of the orcs followed suit.
"Look, guys, just so you know I'm sorry about this whole affair and…"
"KILL HIM!" yelled one of the Orcs.
"RUN AWAY!" said the Prophet, running for dear life from a chain lightning spell.
Author's Note:
In retrospect, there is an easy explanation for this plothole. If Jaina had never been to Stratholme it would be justified if she couldn't teleport there. Still, the fic is okay I guess.