LISTEN - by J Cae
Spoiler: TFT Orc Campaign Act II & III
Note: Finished Act II & III in one night, and I was like 'Nooooo!'. This couldn't have been what I was waiting for for so long! Don't we just get tired of not being able to walk in straight lines and have to go halfway across the country while those creeps keep jumping on us like we're really important? No TxJ?!! No Illidan comeback? And no explanation to why the Naga were still in Kalimdor? Well, IMO this sure isn't Blizz's best. But here's an idea on how Act IV might turn out if there ever would be one, which I doubt so because they never announced it. I know I didn't follow the exact dialogues, cuz I don't want to. Hope you like it anyway.
Disclaimer: I've said this many times before, but Warcraft still doesn't belong to me, and I still don't earn a cent for writing these fanfics. Whenever I tell people I write fanfics, they ask me if I get paid. Surely I'd have a lot more fanfics here if I do get paid. BTW, Railen is an original character but he won't be the only one.
Part I: Sorceress
Prologue: Farewell of Admiral Proudmoore [Act III]
The yellow fire burnt low in the hearth. Its sickly light flickered off the deep crimson velvet tapestries that hung from the ceiling of the admiral's chamber, throwing strange shadows against the grey brick walls. A dark mist of uncertainty shrouded the room--there suspended a trinket of fear.
Huddled in his dark green cloak, Daelin Proudmoore hunched over the paperwork spread over his desk. The orcs had allied themselves with the trolls, the tauren and the ogres--they had made their move and attacked the human bastion upon the Isle of Theramore. For their foul deeds, they must pay with their blood, and therefore, Daelin knew he must have them eliminated, down to the very last warrior.
'Three hundred fifty foot soldiers, two hundred knights...'
He dipped his quill pen into ink and crossed out the word 'two', replacing it with 'four'. The Orcs deserved as much credit as he gave them. He had fought those ruthless animals since he was a lad and knew what they were capable of. He would rather send in more men to lower the risk.
There came a soft knock on his door.
"Come in," he muttered.
In entered a woman with a cup of herbal tea. Thinking she was merely a servant, he gestured for her to put the concoction down on his desk and be gone.
"Father, I need to speak with you."
"Jaina, what is it?" he did not lift his eyes off his work. "If it is about your alliance with the Orcs again, spare me."
"Father, I just need you to forgive me," she whispered.
He ceased writing for a moment. A drop of ink slipped off the tip of his pen onto his work.
"It is late now," he stared remorsefully at the stain, sighed, and picked the paper up to fan it dry. "We'll talk in the morning."
"It is not too late to recall the troops," Jaina's voice was soft, filled with such sorrow that pierced his heart. "I know it is hard for you to accept after so many years of hatred and war between our nations, but now there is peace between us--and this peace did not come easy. Thrall promised not to trouble us any longer if you would not threaten his nation. Our people no longer have to die fighting them. Please, reconsider this."
"Bah!" he spat. "We have already gone through that. The warchief promised, you say? No, my dear. You are still young and innocent of the orcs and their ways. You give those beasts too much trust they do not deserve."
"You don't know Thrall," she argued, almost on impulse. "We have gone through hell together, he and I. I know I could trust him. You were not there to see it when..."
He slammed a fist on the table, silencing her, "So you know a lot about this Thrall now? The truth is he did send his men to war with us and he attacked my castle. His army murdered my people the same way any wretched brute would do. No, Jaina, you are wrong."
"Father, you must listen to me. We must try to make peace with the..."
"Don't say it! You had no idea what I have been through. I was worried sick for you when I heard Lordaeron fell. I prayed to the Stars for your safety. A rumour about you sailing away to Kalimdor was all that was needed for me to come to this strange land so far from home, in search of you. A rumour I didn't even know if it was true! I feared for you all the way here. You have no idea how I felt! Now you are alive, and I thank the Stars. I do not even want to reprimand you for your alliance with the Horde--your betrayal! And yet you think to cross another threshold and push me into accepting your orc friends?"
"Father..."
He was about to yell at her again, but he managed to regain control of his temper, "Go back to your room, Jaina. We'll talk in the morning."
"Please forgive me," tears flowed down her cheeks.
He almost wanted to give her a hug, but his pride held him back, "Go back to your room. Goodnight."
"Goodbye, Father."
And before he could say anything else, she was gone.
~*~
"One more thing, warchief. I found this on a human we killed last night. I can't read Human. It's gibberish to me."
The one called Rexxar handed Thrall a letter written in the human language. The warchief accepted it, read, and nodded his thanks to the Mok'Nathal warrior. His face betrayed no emotions, but Rexxar judged it had to be some bad news.
"It is their order of military," Thrall said quietly. "The army they were about to amass is huge. Fortunately, this fell into our hands instead."
"This will not be the only message they sent out," Rexxar reminded him.
"True," the warchief muttered, "But at least we know how many we would be facing." He folded the letter and put it in his belt.
The beastmaster shrugged.
Thrall sighed. He said nothing, but Rexxar knew he must be thinking about the daughter of Daelin. He was torn between his duty and honour. The Spirits knew he wanted to put an end to the admiral for good, yet whenever he remembered Jaina's words and her grim face when she told him to 'do what he must', he felt like a villain. Albeit she was strong--not only in strength but in spirit as well, it must be hard enough to have just reunited with her father after years of separation only to part again eternally.
Even so, Thrall was never hesitant about what he had to do. Though it dreaded him to cause Jaina more distress, he was still bound by his responsibility to his people.
The admiral must fall, and it had to be this day.
Rexxar looked over from the orcish base to the human city, still shrouded in shadows of the night. The dawning sun had yet to reach that part of the land. "A truly dark place this is," he muttered to himself. He felt no more at ease than the rest of the troops about entering human buildings, but he consoled himself with the thought that once they had the admiral killed, he would never have to go in again.
A shaman came up to the two warriors and informed them that the forces were ready. Thrall acknowledged with a curt nod, "We are going in now."
~*~
"Orcs!"
"Orcs in the citadel!"
"Protect the Admiral!"
Elite guards headed down the dimly lit hallway full speed. Servants and maids moved out of the way immediately to let them pass. On their faces there hung identical expressions of fear. They had expected a war to come about any time soon--but not as soon.
They passed Jaina's door, shouting as they marched.
"Guard Mistress Jaina," said the captain to three of his guards. "Stand here."
The mahogany door flung open, and the sorceress emerged from her room. She was already fully dressed--or perhaps she had not changed last night.
"Mistress Jaina," one of the guards bowed at her. "The orcs are here. Please stay in your room. We will guard you with our lives."
"No," she shook her head and started down the corridor the opposite way. "I must see."
The captain quickly caught her by the arm, only to immediately back off when she glowered at him.
"Forgive my lack of manners, milady," he said, "But please do stay in your room. The Admiral would want you to be safe."
"Let her go wherever she wants," interrupted a third harsh voice as a robust warrior stepped forward from the shadows. The guards bowed at him--Jaina's elder brother Railen. He was almost a mirror image of his father in his youth, with the same striking blue eyes and dark long hair. To the guards, he commanded, "Do not concern yourselves with my sister. Her orc friends won't hurt her. Defend my father."
Jaina glared at her brother angrily without saying a word.
"Master Railen...Mistress Jaina, please," the captain looked from Railen's stone hard face to Jaina's pallid and flawless features.
"You heard me, captain," Railen snarled. "There is no time to lose."
"Yes, master," the captain shooed his men away.
Jaina turned to leave, but Railen did not let her, "Stand there, and don't feign innocence."
"I don't know what you are suggesting," Jaina went pale, but she managed to keep her voice from trembling.
"You do." Her brother mimicked her voice, "There is a goblin shipyard on a nearby island. You could use their ships to scatter the blockade around Theramore Isle. Father does know about that, and you broke his heart."
With a strangled cry, she fled from the scene.
~*~
As the orcs charged into Daelin Proudmoore's chamber, he was ready. By the thunderous shouts of hate, he knew he was outnumbered, but he had his sacred hammer in hand. The orcs killed his men. They kept killing without mercy, without pause. But he would make his last stand.
A Mok'Nathal's axe cut through the neck of an elite guard and it came out tainted dark red. All Daelin could remember were the haunted eyes of his fallen soldier forever staring at him in confusion and pain. But even as the decapitated body slumped lifelessly to the floor, the half orc saluted him as he would salute someone he respected.
This was not the Horde the Admiral remembered. They were not barbarians who killed for the sake of bloodlust. They moved with purpose, with orderliness and a new kind of confidence he had never seen in Orcs before. For a split second, he felt as though he was fighting a platoon of well organized humans instead of something savage.
He slammed his hammer into the side of the tauren chieftain, but his blow did little to impair the old warrior who swung his weapon fiercely back at him. The troll shadow hunter conjured up some spells of his and a glowing cobra emerged from the ground, spitting bright fire. He tried to concentrate on the battle, but he could not. He could feel the invisible pressure from a pair of blue eyes behind the dark velvet curtains, watching him, pitying him. He made no mistake. Those eyes were Jaina's. She did not come forth to help him. She just watched.
One of the orcish warriors seemed to sense her presence and raced forward with his weapon raised. Daelin tried to cry out a warning to his daughter, but he could not for his breath caught in his throat. An axe penetrated his armour from behind and entered his spine.
"No! Wait! It's me!" Jaina sidestepped out of the way.
"Jaina!"
Daelin had not expected the cry to be from the Mok'Nathal.
The grunt dropped his weapon in surprise and bowed at her apologetically.
The sorceress lunged forward and caught Rexxar's axe-wielding hand, "Leave my father alone now. Leave now. You have done what you have to." Her blue eyes were wild and terrified and full of pity. She had watched her father mortally wounded by orcish hands. It was too much.
Abruptly, she twisted away from him and knelt wordlessly beside her fallen father. She heard the orcish troops cheer behind her. Victory was theirs, but she just wanted to be away from them all. She wanted to be with her father alone in his final moments.
Daelin had always known this to be his fate.
Ever since he became the ruler of Kul Tiras and said his vows of service to his people, he had always known eternal hate for the orcs. He knew there could only be two outcomes to his fate. He would either be the king who liberated his people from Orcish threat, or he would die battling the foul beasts like a hero to be remembered and honoured by his people on his funeral pyre.
But not of the words of a half-orc!
"He was a great warrior. Remember him as such," the monstrous creature laid a calloused hand on his daughter's shoulder. His precious Jaina! The young woman did not flinch--any other woman of noble breed would have fainted dead away by then, but not Jaina.
She did not look at Rexxar. She could not bear to. It was too painful--or so Daelin hoped. But in her eyes there was comprehension. She understood the interest of the orcs, and she let them do what they must. Where was she when he battled the hundred orcs alone? She was there watching, not helping, and so had her warriors stayed their blades.
No...his heart bled in denial. He would rather his precious little Jaina be weak now, swoon dead away in his dying arms while he drew his last breath. But Jaina was too strong for that. He heard she fought and won the Demonlord Archimonde without his aid. She did not need his protection any longer. She thought she had grown up and understood everything. Let the world think she was a capable warrior. In his eyes she would always be a child who knew nothing.
"Father," she touched his hair, matted with sweat and blood and looked at him with tearful eyes--but the tears never fell. "Why didn't you listen?"
He wanted to draw away from her. He wanted to remove her hand from him. But he had no strength left. The world was fading around him, into blasted colours and noises, and he could see that blissful white light crawling up against him, promising relief from his terrible, mortal pain.
...you listen...
...listen...
...listen...
The last two words formed on his lips--the very last two, "...orc whore..."
They were never voiced, but mouthed clearly enough for Jaina to understand. He did not know what her reactions were. Nor did he care.
J A/N:
Lemme know if it's a good idea to write in only underpants...no. I didn't mean for you to know that. How do you feel about this story so far? I welcome criticisms cuz I'm not perfect (and don't worry about me taking revenge on your story, cuz I won't. Promise!), but I will ignore flames. As for cumbersome clumsy unbelievably lengthy sentences like this, OR ungrammatical something typo are sentinsus like this, if you think I have more than I am allowed to, you're absolutely welcomed to complain ^_^, and I will make alterations. Phew!
I won't be following the canon story down to the last letter. I know Jaina's the youngest child of Daelin. How many more brother and sister Proudmoores are there, does anyone knows?! So far I will put Railen on the list, and probably another evil sibling O_o. And I can afford to give you a hint on the pairing. I usually like to pair the main character up with an unlikely individual (like in RG I did Sylvanas and Kael'thas). This time it will be Jaina x mysterious-male-Warcraft-character-you-think-you-know-who-but-you-don't. _'.