A gentle nudge brought Jesika out of her nightmare.

"We must move," Theron whispered, oddly tender. "Are you alright?"

"Just a nightmare," she murmured, squinting against the morning light. Everything was already packed, so the only thing left to do was prepare to meet the guard. Her companion waited expectantly with some rope in hand.

"What was it about?" Thereon asked as he bound her wrists behind her back.

"Battle, I think," Jesika speculated. She furrowed her brow and elaborated, "I couldn't see much… just streaks of purple, but I could hear growling… and there was this…" -the girl winced- "...terrible pain in my arm."

"A flashback from your time in the military?"

"What? I was never in the military."

Theron raised his eyebrows. "No? Then why did you call me 'sir' yesterday? I assumed it was habitual."

Jesika's cheeks flamed bright red. "No reason," she squeaked. "Just forget about it. Please."

Although confused, he didn't press the issue and the duo walked onward toward the capitol, their pets in tow. Within five minutes, Orgrimmar loomed over them and left Jes slack jawed. In their haste the night prior, the young woman hadn't a moment of leisure to observe, but now, with the sun peeking over the horizon, she could view the city gate in all of its glory.

A massive stone wall stood between Durotar and the capitol's inner workings. On either side of the impressive structure were watch towers, each made with gargantuan logs stretching at least 200 feet high, lashed together with rope as thick as her head. She allowed her eyes to wander upward past the defensive wooden spikes, to the Horde banners that decorated both watch towers; each of the two structures boasted a single banner that easily reached 100 feet in length. The sheer size of everything was overwhelming, not to mention the people.

Champions of the Horde trickled in and out of the city, some stopping to chat with friends and party members, while others mounted up for travel. Jes was in awe the orc grunts she had seen, but troll warriors clad in worn plate mail... blood elf mages adorned in beautiful robes, and the tauren- oh! The Tauren! Those sights were new, some intimidating and others merely intriguing, but all were exhilarating to witness.

"Now is our chance," Theron whispered, slapping Jesika out of her daze. "We will follow the kodo caravan."

She didn't have time to gawk at the dinosaurs casually sauntering past; Theron yanked her by her elbow and hurried to the line of kodos, Duke and Mira trotting dutifully alongside them. They all fell in step with the caravan and, when the gate grunts began the cargo inspection, Theron, Jesika, and their pets slipped past.

The group hustled through the entrance tunnel, passing guards left and right with nary more than a wayward glance cast their way. When the tunnel opened up to reveal Orgrimmar, the number of grunts finally lessened, relieving much of Jesika's anxiety. Her excitement on the other hand? Barely containable.

Despite the early hour, Orgrimmar was already teeming with life. Members of the Horde ranging from Civilians to champions roamed the shops while children played in the city square's open spaces; the entire city was bathed in the warm glow of the early morning sun. To see the everyday life of people Jes had once thought were fiction was both astonishing and oddly welcoming. A smile inched its way across her face as she was overwhelmed by a sense of belonging- of home- and so engrossed was she in these sensations and in the sights and sounds of this city that she didn't realize Theron had stopped.

"Umph!" Jes grunted as she walked into his back.

"What's yer business with the Warchief?" asked a gravelly voice.

Theron squared his shoulders. "We have an audience arranged- urgent, for Theron Dawnsinger."

The orc removed some crumpled parchment from a pouch on his belt, beady eyes scanning it for a few moments. "Ah, here ya are," he said finally, and saluted Theron. "Proceed, Champion."

Jesika glanced nervously at her elven companion from beneath her hood, but he ignored her and stepped somewhat apprehensively over the threshold before them

What if he doesn't accept me? She wondered as they walked around a large pillar in the foyer. Either way, she came to terms with the fact that worrying would do her no good and simply resigned herself to fate.

"Victory or death, Warchief," Theron greeted as he came to a halt. Though she could barely see him from beneath her hood, Jes still noticed he was visibly tense.

"Well met, Theron Dawnsinger." Thrall's booming voice filled the room, sending a shiver down Jesika's spine, for he did not shout, but the power in his voice carried impressively. Even though she could not see him, his spoken word alone formed a daunting image in her mind. The Warchief continued: "What is this urgent news your brother spoke of?"

Brother? Jes thought. Aedyndel is his family? She stared at her feet, wondering why he didn't mention it sooner.

Theron shifted uncomfortably. "It is a rather… sensitive topic, Sir. May I have your word that you will hear me out in full before passing judgement?"

She felt Thrall's scrutinizing gaze fall on her and swallowed her nerves, mentally preparing for the worst.

"You have my word."

Without further ado, Theron launched into the events of the last week or so, starting with the earthquake in the blasted lands and the suspicious behavior of those near the portal itself. He then went on to describe the peculiar world on the other side, and finally, his encounter with Jesika: "While in this world," he explained, "I happened upon a native who was battling a felhound."

"A felhound?"

"Yes, sir. It would seem that Outland's side of the portal is also in connection with this 'Earth'"

"I see… go on."

"Well, sir, this native insisted on accompanying me back to Azeroth to aid us in rectifying this… issue."

This time, it wasn't only Thrall's gaze Jesika felt boring into her. The chamber went silent and she knew it was because the council members had all turned their attention to her.

"Ah, and this is your new companion, I take it? A fellow hunter?" Thrall inquired, eyeing Duke. The normally exorbitant 5-month old sat calmly by his owner's side, observing the orc with repeated head tilts.

"Not quite."

"Enough of this suspense, Theron. Get to your point."

"You see, I… well, she's-"

Jesika silenced him by reaching for her hood. Best get on with it, she thought.

In one slow motion, the young woman dropped her hood and locked eyes with Thrall who sat just 10 feet before her. She brought her right fist to her heart in an Orcish salute, dipped her head, and uttered a shockingly confident, "Greetings, Warchief."

The present council members gripped their weapons, a ripple of audible shock passing through them.

"Human!" shouted a Forsaken priest.

The hall erupted into a cacophony of slurs and disturbing threats. Two grunts rushed inside, brandishing their axes. Theron was shouting something, and poor Duke had shut down from sensory overload.

Jesika yelped as a bolt of arcane energy narrowly missed her head.

"ENOUGH!" Thrall thundered, bits of lightning sparking at his fingertips. "Guards, leave us!"

The grunts froze in a mixture of awe and confusion. "But sir!"

"Leave!"

The dejected guards removed themselves while the council members resigned to quiet grumbling.

"Theron," the Warchief sighed, "I'm assuming you have good reason for befriending this human, let alone bringing her here."

"I do, Sir. She is an ally and I ask that you accept her as a member of the Horde."

Indignant council members were silenced with a wave of Thrall's hand. "It cannot be done," he stated.

Jesika looked to Theron, alarmed, silently begging him to say something, but the blood elf simply hung his head and turned to leave. Taken aback to say the least, Jes shifted her gaze to Thrall, frantic. The portal home was closed! Even if she wanted to leave, that was no longer a possibility and the Alliance were no option for her… she couldn't leave the Horde or Theron behind.

"Thrall, please," she begged, "don't cast me out. This is where I belong!"

The orc's eyes, both warmer and more intimidating than most of his race, bore into her. Jes held her ground and dared to stare back defiantly, radiating confidence.

Finally, Thrall spoke; "You're aura is confusing, young one. How can I know this isn't some sort of trick?"

"I speak Orcish for one."

Theron shot her a look.

"Anyone can learn our language," the Warchief replied.

"True, but I never learned it," she pointed out. Realizing she had no proof of her inexplicable linguistic capabilities, Jes paused a moment. A brief silence passed. She continued, "Thrall, I can't explain why my… aura is confusing, or how I came to know your language without any study, but I have been loyal to you- to the Horde, for years. Azeroth is my second home."

"How is that possible? Our world's have never collided before this day."

Jes swallowed nervously. Her eyes flicked about the torchlit chamber, landing on suspicious glare after suspicious glare, not a single sympathetic face in the room. That was to be expected, of course, but nevertheless the scrutiny left her words caught in her throat for a spell. "That is… uh…. exceptionally difficult to explain."

Thrall leaned forward intently and braced his burly green forearms on the top of his thighs, fingers lacing together slowly. "We have time," he stated.

Her anxious hand grasped Duke's fur for comfort as she scrambled for the words. Some awkward moments of silence passed, but she eventually managed to describe World of Warcraft and Blizzard to the best of her ability. Thrall merely stared impassively. Frustrated, Jesika went on to delve into the thousands of hours she logged into the game, her knowledge of the Horde, her distaste for the Alliance, and more.

"And finally, you," Jes concluded. "Warchief Thrall, I have dreamt- literally- of you existing and meeting you. There is no other leader to whom I would rather pledge my fealty. I have fervently supported you despite believing you were only fantasy. Warchief, my heart is with you… with the Horde."

Thrall's stony expression was disheartening. Then, Jes noticed the corners of his mouth twitch upward. "I admire the strength of your conviction, human," he commented, voice warm. "There is a way we can test the legitimacy of your words. Laelani!"

The forsaken priest who had sparked the earlier madness stepped aside for a Warlock of his own race.

Laelani was pretty by human standards, if one ignored the green flesh and partially exposed bones. Jesika focused on her astonishingly babyish face, soft with deceptively innocent glowing eyes. Something about her made Jes fearful- those childish looks were not enough to fool her.

"Yes, Warchief?" Laelani's voice chirped, a playful smile dancing on delicate grey lips.

"You have been working with the mages on your project, correct?"

"Yes sir, but it's still experimental." She cast a sideways glance at Jesika. "In theory, we could use the subject's own arcane energy to make their true allegiances known and they will be branded accordingly." A dark grin shadowed Laelani's face and she added, "Unfortunately for Theron's pet, I haven't perfected it. So, if she isn't truly one of us at heart, the spell will be fatal."

"Think carefully, Jesika," Thrall cautioned. "If you do not wish to risk your life, I will allow you to leave the city unscathed. You may return to your people."

"All due respect, Warchief, the humans of Azeroth- the Alliance, were never 'my people'."

There was a flicker of approval in his eyes. "Very well."

The undead Warlock stepped over to Jesika and rolled up her sleeves, prepping for the spell.

Jes piped up; "If this is focused on manipulation of the Arcane, why isn't a mage doing it?"

Laelani scoffed. "The team of mages I work with are barely more than civilians. They haven't the stomach for this line of work."

"Why would they…" she trailed off as the Forsaken woman wrapped bony fingers around her wrist and held fast.

Laelani handed her a thick strip of leather. "You might want this."

No sooner had Jes taken it between her teeth than the Warlock began.

There was no easing into the sensation… no gradual increase… only immediate, unimaginable pain. It felt like a white hot iron, forged in her chest, was pushing its way to the surface. She internalized her screams even as her stomach turned and darkness closed in around her until all she saw was a pin prick of light. She gasped as images flashed before her eyes- images of her playing the game... arguing with friends... discussing factions... even some unrelated memories such as those of her father. Jesika would have enjoyed reliving these memories if not for the hellish magic that was pulling them to the surface, forcibly sifting through them for evidence of her alignment.

Jesika wasn't sure how long she stood in silent agony. Time dragged on as if slogging through molasses. Fortunately, like all things, this too came to an end and the pain stopped, leaving Jes drenched in sweat with wobbly knees that could hardly hold her weight.

"How do you feel?" Laelani inquired. Her voice was still lilting and delicate, but her serious tone stuck out like a sore thumb.

Jesika glowered at the woman, chest heaving. When she eventually caught her breath, she pushed aside the hair plastered to her forehead and spat, "Peachy."

Laelani cuffed her upside the head like a mother cat. "This is serious, child! Answer the question- and calm your pet!"

She was so out of it, Jes hadn't realized that Duke was beside himself with anger. Theron stood back a ways, holding the growling, lunging puppy by his collar, and struggling by the looks of it. Jesika silenced the animal with a finger to her lips. Once calm, he was free to go to her and bolted to her side in an instant.

"Well?" Laelani questioned once more.

"I feel like I just went through hours of pain that's near indescribable."

The Forsaken woman scribbled something in a notebook. "The process took less than ten minutes," she clarified. She held up a strip of leather laden with awfully deep teeth marks. "However, I don't doubt your pain."

Jesika stared at it in shock. "I don't remember spitting that out," she murmured, turning it over in her hands.

"Interesting…" More writing ensued. "Anymore memory loss? Did you ever lose consciousness?"

"No, not that I know of…" Jes rubbed her temples. "All I remember is pain and tunnel vision"

"What about-"

"Warchief," Theron interjected as he stepped forward, "don't you believe Jesika has been questioned enough?" The elf hovered his hand over her shoulder for a brief moment, as if he wanted to make a protective gesture, then seemed to think better of it and hastily lowered it back to his side. He coughed into his fist awkwardly. "After this ordeal, she ought to rest."

Laelani shot him a vicious glare.

"Very well," Thrall replied. "Aku, heal her. Laelani's research can wait."

A hulking tower of Tauren, clad in the garb of a priest, approached Jesika and grabbed her arm. It was at that moment that she looked down for the first time and saw the full extent of Laelani's work.

Burned into her upper arm, from shoulder to elbow, was the symbol of the Horde. It was vile to behold; the symbol appeared as though someone had taken a hot iron and pressed it a good half inch into her skin. The exposed flesh was cherry red and oozing, with a few blisters already forming, but the blood was thankfully minimal. Jesika swallowed her nausea and swiftly averted her eyes; looking at the wound only made her think about the pain she should be feeling. Instead, she elected to focus on the Tauren hands glowing warmly with healing energy.

Unfortunately for her, as soon that white light made contact, sharp pains shot through her arm and she recoiled instantly, crying out. Aku furrowed his bushy brow and tried again, this time persisting through her initial cry.

Finally, he looked at Thrall and explained, "I can not heal this wound. The brand is.. It is almost like it's fighting me."

The Warchief turned to his subordinate expectantly. "Laelani?"

The warlock flipped through her notebook. "It's meant to be resistant to 'unnatural' forms of healing- if one can call magic unnatural- in order to assure sufficient and permanent scarring. However," she added, lifting a single, bony index finger, "if you heal small portions at a time, you might be able to accelerate her recovery by a few weeks."

"'Might'?" Jesika quipped as she crossed her arms. "As in, might not actually work and I'd suffer for nothing?"

Laelani glanced up from her notebook. "I did say it was experimental. Either way," she said, clapping the book shut, "report back to me with your findings." She turned to the warchief, a lone eyebrow cocked. "If that is all, Warchief?"

"Yes, you may go," Thrall affirmed. He stood. "Aku, be sure that you take proper care of our new friend. I will see to it personally that you, Jesika, are known as an ally, but tread carefully these next few days while we get the word out." The massive orc revealed a gentle smile and announced formally, "Welcome to the Horde, Jesika."