Forgot to write this on the first page. Warhammer 40k is a product of Games Workshop, Warcraft is a product of Blizzard, yadda yadda yadda.

Edokage: The way I figure it, is that though night elves certainly do know about guns, their knowledge won't be on par, as to let's say a dwarf, who would be quite familiar with black powder weapons. That and the guns in the Warcraft universe are all pretty much smoothbore blunderbusses which look very different from a boltgun. If it was a dwarf who saw our space marine first, he or she would no doubt recognize the bolter as a gun, but for a night elf sentinel, since it doesn't look like a gun she's used to seeing, she'll have no idea what it really is.

Dusel: Thanks! There probably won't be any faction massacres in this fanfic. The main reason is simply for the plot. If our hero runs into the Exodar screaming his head off about heresy and purging xenos, the other factions won't take very kindly to that I'm sure.

Long Live Warhammer 40k and skipper 1337: Thanks!

Soulless reader: Our astartes comes from a more level headed chapter so, no killing sprees, unless it's the enemy of course!

Chapter 2

The enemies of the Emperor fear us, so they strive to avoid our wrath. Those who are cowardly, hide from us. Those who have an inkling of courage, shadow us in the hopes of catching us unawares. Such a misplaced hope. We astartes long have realized the potency of stealth in warfare. Our neophytes train in the aspects of silence and secrecy the day they are brought into the chapter. For me, that was nearly two centuries ago. But a space marine never forgets his training.

My superhuman senses had long picked out my stalkers. I knew their numbers; a dozen. I knew their positions; crouching on the sturdy branches of trees, hidden from view. What I didn't know, was what they were. I needed to find out.

"Show yourselves, I grow tired of hide and seek," my power armor's built in vox amplifies my already loud voice.

A faint rustle, and my pursuer drops from a large tree, landing gracefully on supple legs. My visor's targeting array instantly zooms a crosshair on her form. I disregard it for now. My first impression is the light purple tinge of her skin, and my finger instinctively reaches for my boltgun's trigger. I take note of her shapely figure, clad in scale armor and feathers. Her belly is exposed, taut and fit with muscle. Impossibly long ears stretch back, twitching and delicate. Large, moon shaped eyes examines me with fear, suspicion, and awe. If she could see into the eyes behind my helm, there would be no other emotion except fear.

A century of battle honed senses screamed at me to shoot her. A century of experience on numerous worlds reasoned no good could come from her existence. A century of hate and loathing ordered me to pull the trigger. A small voice of logic reminded me of my situation and urged me to consider carefully. I listened to it.

I lowered my weapon a fraction. The xeno saw this as a trustworthy action, and stepped hesitantly towards me, hands raised in the universal gesture of peace.

Keina Stormsong swallowed her fears as she slowly approached the black clad giant. It was huge, she realized. The sentinels had postulated this strange being's size from afar, yet had never reached a conclusion.

Keina halted a few feet from this living god and looked down, unwilling to stare into the twin red eyes that bulged from a bone white helm. As her sight dropped to the ground, wandering eyes took in the gigantic chest plate embroidered with a skull with outstretched wings. The massive pauldrons etched in white that engulfed the being's shoulders. The powerful legs, decorated with scripts of parchment, thicker than a tree trunk. And perhaps the most intimidating of all, the gargantuan weapon cradled in its arms.

"Speak." Keina winced as the harsh tone of the giant rang discordantly in her sensitive ears. She took a deep breath.

"Greetings stranger… I-I am Keina Stormsong of the Sentinels," the night elf shuddered slightly as a whirring click sounded from above, "we welcome you to our lands and—"

"Then you are familiar with the terrain xeno?" the grating voice interrupts her introduction.

"Y-yes, my people have long tended to the forests of this place."

"I care not for your trees and bushes." Keina quickly bit back a retort at these words. "Where is the nearest Imperial outpost?"

"Imperial? I'm sorry, I'm afraid I don't understand."

"Yes. Imperial as in the Imperium of Man. I need to establish contact with my chapter." The giant's voice is laced with impatience.

"I'm sorry but there is no… Imperium… of Man here."

My mind reels from this information. No Imperium of Man? Impossible. Completely impossible. Is this xeno wench purposefully denying the Emperor's might? Humanity has ruled the stars for ten millennia, millions of worlds, trillions of people. Our empire stretches from holy Terra to the distant fringes of the universe. Daily, our armies clash with xenos, traitors, and heretics on countless war zones. No Imperium of Man? Preposterous.

Yet, as I glare down at this blue skinned xeno, I realize she isn't lying. Whether her brain has been picked clean by the offspring of a grox or through willful ignorance, she does not understand that beyond this pitiful planet, lies the galactic might of a realm greater than she could possibly fathom.

I push these thoughts away from my conscience.

"Very well, where is the nearest settlement then?" I ask.

"Astranaar. A few leagues away from here." The xeno replies warily.

"Take me to this… Astranaar," the words burn on my lips, and I remind myself to purge my mouth with holy water for speaking the foul language of the alien.

"I will. But first you must swear not to harm our people."

I am incredulous. How dare this… this… filth make me swear an oath? We astartes give our oaths only to the Emperor and to our fellow brothers. Who is she to force me to give a sacred promise on her fanciful whims?

"Oaths are something your tainted mind will never comprehend alien," her eyes darts towards my face, glinting with suspicion, "however, I understand your concerns. I will ensure you that I will not be… overzealous in my duties to the Emperor."

She nods faintly at this, and beckons for me to follow.

"I do not trust it Keina," Mellia hissed in Darnassian.

"I don't either, but what choice do we have? Better to keep an eye on it than allow it to wonder around Ashenvale unimpeded," the Night Elf commander replies, glancing back at the metal giant that trotted behind them.

"Agreed, but still---" Keina's second in command tumbled into the sentinel in front of her, who a second ago, had been springing forward.

"Why did you stop? Oh… By Elune… No…" Mellia's voice halted into a miserable whisper as she saw what the sentinel saw.

Keina didn't have the strength to reply. Her knees buckled and she fell, tears streaming down her cheeks. Astranaar was in flames.