Author's Note: See other chapters for copyright disclaimer.

Jof gritted his teeth and stepped off of the zeppelin in Tirisfal, walking down the stairs of the decrepit tower slowly, then slowly making his way to Brill. It would be faster to simply take a bat than to walk through the long, abandoned corridors of Lordaeron to get to the throne room.

Not that he had any desire to start this meeting. The scroll he had received the previous day had been short and to the point.

Jofkalzkal. Meet me in Undercity tomorrow morning. I wish to speak with you.

Usually getting a personal summons from a Warchief would be a cause for some excitement. The troll had a feeling that was not the case after what he had said to her a week ago.

He paid the bat handler and hopped on, letting the beast carry him through the sewers as he ruminated. He still did not really regret what he had said. It was true, as far as he was concerned. With the boy king in power - and probably desperate to prevent a full blown war - she could have asked for anything in the world. It was her own hatred that kept her from doing it.

He should have known after Stormheim that Sylvanas would do nothing to protect a common soldier. And now, with war starting any day, there was not much hope for the poor girl.

He slid off the bat and walked to the Royal Quarter, then past the guards down the long hallway. He reached the room and glanced in. She was speaking with Nathanos, but turned around and smiled at him. It was a surprisingly pleasant smile. Well, for her. Jof bowed his head and saluted her quickly.

"Ah, shaman, you're right on time," she said. Her voice was friendly. "Come in, I have something to discuss with you."

He nodded and stepped forward, walking over to her. He towered over her and her companion by a few feet, but she was still a far more threatening presence than he was. Jof thought about offering an apology, no matter how fake it was, to stem what he feared was coming.

"Come," she said, waving him forward and turning around. "We'll walk around the Undercity as we speak. I grow tired of seeing the same walls day in and day out. Nathanos, please let me know if anyone comes in to speak with me and let them know I'll return shortly."

The man simply nodded. He was always much more polite to Sylvanas than he was to literally anyone else.

Jof followed her, careful to walk a step or so behind, which was a bit difficult with his long legs. The talking did not start until they had already gotten well out of the hallway. "I wrote to King Wrynn, as you requested," she said nonchalantly.

The troll blinked. That was not the news that he expected to hear at all. He was afraid to ask, but he swallowed and did so anyway. "Did he say anyt'ing?"

"In a way, yes, but . . . I'm sorry, but I'm afraid it is not the news you wanted to hear," she said sadly.

Jof froze and stared at her, until she had to stop walking and turn around. Belidora's injuries had looked severe, even at a distance. Even if they had not killed her, she might have died from them before ever reaching Stormwind. He swallowed. "Is she…?"

"She's . . . still alive," Sylvanas said quietly. She had the tone of a mother trying to spare her child from knowing some horrible truth. She sighed and pulled a scroll out. The blue Alliance crest seal was broken. "It's from your young friend. It seems it was written under duress. I'm sorry. It seems I underestimated the Alliance's cruelty. It may be best if you read it in private."

Jof took at it and stared at it, still rolled up, in his hand. He wanted desperately to rip it open and read it, but what she had said gave him pause. He glanced down again and his eyes narrowed. There were flecks of blood on the edges of the parchment. She had been bleeding while writing it.

"It appears the boy king is uninterested in negotiations," Sylvanas continued, turning and beginning to walk again. Jof followed her closely, still holding the scroll in his hand. "I told him that without any gestures of goodwill from the Alliance, we would have to retaliate in kind. And, well, that was one of the responses I received." She turned down a relatively abandoned corridor and Jof followed suit.

The troll glanced back and forth. There were not even any guards down this corridor. It must lead to a dead end. He glanced up at Sylvanas. "Should I…?"

She looked back at him and frowned. "You may if you wish. I warn you, it is quite disturbing."

Jof looked back down at the scroll in his hand and swallowed. He had never both wanted and not wanted to read something at the same time in his entire life. Still, he owed his friend that much, to hear what she was going to say. He peeled open the letter and began to read. It was written in Common with an obviously trembling hand. Dark reddish brown stains covered it, both conditions making it difficult to read.

Warchief,

I am writing on behalf of His Majesty, King Anduin Wrynn.

He has declined your request.

I don't know what they want. I don't know why they're doing this.

They keep sending this man in. He calls himself an Inquisitor. He does things to me. He burns and cuts and-

I don't know what he wants me to say. I just want him to stop.

Please, I'm sorry. I just want to go home.

Jof crushed the scroll in his hand. He could not force himself to read further, although there was more written. He looked up at Sylvanas and said quietly, "Ya have to do somethin', Warchief."

"I don't even know where she is, child. I'm sorry," she said quietly in return.

Jof looked down at the scroll in his hand again, then back up. "May I be dismissed?"

She nodded, and he turned and left without another word.

#

Jof threw the scroll on the chest next to his sleeping furs as soon as he returned home, then collapsed onto them, burying his face in them. Stupid! Cowardly! He had just stood there and let Belidora be dragged off by those monsters. He knew, or should have known, what they were going to do to the poor girl. They'd already turned the sin'dorei into barely more than a memory, and he had let them take her.

Worst still, she had looked over at him before they took her. She knew he was there and had done nothing to save her. He had disgraced his ancestors and the Loa and-

"Hey mon! Get up!" a cheerful voice yelled from the door. Jof forced his face up and looked. It was Xejan again, standing in his doorway, quite uninvited. His fellow shaman smiled at him until he saw the tears in the other troll's eyes.

"'Ey, what be da matter?"

Jof sat up and rubbed his face. What was he supposed to tell him? That he was crying because he was a worthless coward? He glanced over and grabbed the scroll, stomping over to the other troll and shoving it into his hand.

"Dis be from a friend of mine. Little elf huntress dat da Alliance bastards took after dey destroyed Quel'thalas," he said. Xejan frowned and opened it as Jof continued.

"They're nothin' but monsters."

#

Sylvanas Windrunner walked back to her throne room at a leisurely pace. That had worked . . . better than she had expected.

Nathanos was still silently standing guard, as she had ordered him to. Such a good champion he was. He glanced over when she walked into the room, but he did not say anything until she had made it back to her seat.

"How did it go, my Queen?"

"Excellent. The troll took it with him. With any luck, he will spread it around to the rest of the troops."

Nathanos nodded and turned away with a soft hum. Sylvanas appraised him for several moments before speaking. "Do you disapprove?"

"Of course not, my Queen. It's just that . . . I've dealt with these three before. They're not too bright, but they are loyal soldiers, despite their . . . unfortunate behavior the other day. It seems unnecessary. They would fight for you if you simply asked them to. After all, they discovered the destruction of Quel'thalas. They know what the Alliance is capable of."

"True, but it's not for them. It's for the others," she said, reclining slightly. "The soldiers are angry, of course, over what happened in Quel'thalas, but to many of them, it's not personal enough. The sin'dorei were good allies, but too few in number for much of the western Horde to have a relationship with them.

"But this girl . . . what's her name?"

"Belidora," Nathanos replied. "Young volunteer soldier, usually works as a scout or messenger."

"Yes, that," Sylvanas said. "She's just a normal soldier doing her job. She could have been any of them. Anyone's sister, anyone's daughter. The fact of the matter is that this travesty is too much for most of the forces to wrap their heads around. This brings it down to the plight of one brave young soldier and all the atrocities the Alliance has to offer."

Nathanos grunted. "What if the troll figures out the ploy? He is unlikely to be happy to have been used in such a way."

Sylvanas shrugged. "It may not be a lie. After all, the Alliance brutally abused them before. Cut out the poor thing's eye. We have no idea what they're doing to the girl. Which will make the troll's story all the more convincing. The perfect little martyr."