***A/N : This one was pretty hard to write in order for it to sound as natural as possible. I did some research for the Zandali language, which I assumed most of the trolls speak . Enjoy!***


They floated for a brief moment, and when they hit ground, she did not feel the impact. Her feet were in air, dangling. Before she had time to protest or realize what happened, Roh'khin gently placed her on the ground. She turned her face towards him, ready to unleash a cascade of insults, but he brought his finger to his lips, motioning her to keep it quiet. He pointed at the walls and she turned around.

She slowly looked up. They were in an underground tunnel, dug there who knows from what times. The stone walls were dark in color, arched towards the floor and curved towards the ceiling. The poignant smell of stale water was lingering in the air. Occasional fall of droplets were disturbing the silence surrounding them. It would've been pitch dark, if not for a flickering red light somewhere in the distance. The floor was wet, easy to trip if you were not careful. A choir of voices were chanting something in the distance, the sound echoing eerily through the stones.

Roh'khin tapped her shoulder twice, and motioned her to move towards the voices, while cautiously advancing. She took one step, and the sound of it echoed so loud, it made them both freeze, their eyes darting around, for anyone that might caught their intrusion. He turned towards her with murderous stare, and she pointed, helpless, at her plate boots. He rolled his eyes, and pointed at his feet, showing her that he was tip toeing. She puffed, and stepped like he instructed her,. To their both relief, the sound was not loud at all.

They walked some time, cautiously , towards the sound and light, the view not changing one bit on the way, except for the fact that the voices where getting closer and closer. After what appeared to be an eternity, at one turn, in front of them, like a gaping mouth, was an enormous entrance to a chamber, filled with red glow, from which a loud chant could he heard.

They both stepped back. He nodded towards her robe, and she curled her lip. Kyra placed the hood of the dress on her head and stepped towards the entrance. The rogue slipped in to shadows.

"Same as before" she heard in her head. She nodded in response, knowing that he could see her. Kyra walked slowly and entered the room, preparing heself for the same act she did earlier, with the sentinels.

What she saw, made her stop, and it felt like her heart missed a beat. Her breath got caught in her throat, and she restrained herself from gasping out loud.

The enormous room was filled to the brim with cultists. It had a tall ceiling and generous walls, adorned with thousand of lit candles. All kinds of races were there. Hundreds, maybe more. They were all chanting, slowly moving, like they shared one brain. They were arranged in circles, from a bigger one, to smaller and smaller towards the center. The ones in the middle, were chanting the loudest. The light was dim, which made her blending in easier, given the fact that they would not see her blood stained robe.

Up in a cage adorned with spells and enchants, suspended from chains that were keeping it mid-air from all four sides was Tyrande. Her mass of green hair spilled through the cage bars, and her feet dangling mid air. Her arms were chained, and her legs also. She looked like she was sleeping, or was unconscious. Around her frame was a light aura, a faint luminous shield that protected her, that all of the cultists gathered there were trying to break. But her messy hair and her tattered dress showed that she was fighting before.

"What is this ? Who are you?" a whisper came from behind her, and a cold grasp engulfed her, cold, invisible fingers enveloped around her neck, chocking her lungs. "A voidwalker guardian!"she punched herself mentally for her slip in attention. She was slowly lifted from the ground, and slammed in to near by wall. The hit was attenuated by her plate armor, but the invisible foe kept her pinned to the stones. She started suffocating, desperately trying to break free, moving erratically her free hands, but all around her was nothing.

"Endu'di Rifa!"

The strong, familiar voice of Tyrande resonated across the tunnel, and a shock wave of warm light pushed Kyra away from entrance. She rose up, using the wall as support, gasping for air and stepped carefully. No sign of the guardian could be felt. She exhaled relieved. She composed herself and looked cautiously inside the room, from behind the wall.

The cultists were scattered on the ground. By the looks of it, some of them were dead, some were trying to get up. A general commotion could be seen, chaos installing itself in the room. Rich, orange flames were rising from the dead bodies, burning them to ash. Tyrande's frame was lit up by a yellow glow, but Kyra could tell she was tired. Her chest was rising in shaky, uneven breaths. The enchantments around her cage making her weak. But most important, she was alive. The power she possessed amazed Kyra. Even in this weakened state, it took hundreds of cultists to take her down, and still she managed to kill a quarter of them.

She heard a eerie noise behind her, and turned around quickly. Three portals were opening in front of her, and a dozen of cultists were stepping through.

"Go! Blend in. Now!"she heard in her head. She quickly aligned herself with the row of cultists that were marching towards the entrance and stepped in the room along with them.

The new comers took the dead bodies, and started dragging them towards what appeared to be the altar of the room, in the center of it. She quickly grabbed the body of a human male, and started doing the same.

Behind the altar she could see a hooded figure, taller than the average participant at the ritual. By the looks of his decorated robes, she could tell he was their leader. She was so close to him, that with ease could plant her swords in his unsuspecting chest. But that could mean her death, or worse, Tyrande's death. She could tell that he was an troll, his long tusks sticking out from his cowl. He has his back turned at the altar, an alchemy stand in front of him, where vials and small bottles were resting. His long white hands were preoccupied with a couple of white glowing vials. He was opening them , and pouring in to his hands while mumbling a spell. He was not paying attention to the new comers, a proof that this was not the first time this has happened. But he was not a Darkspear, she could tell, his height and skin color betrayed him.

"Drakkari..."she heard in her head and froze. The troll in front of her was a proud member of a now Northrend tribe, long lost and forgotten. She knew that they had no interest in magic or knowledge, that they were ruthless, cruel and barbaric warriors. So what was one of them doing by leading a cult?

"Continue the ritual! Take your places!" He spoke in perfect common.

The entire room started moving to form the circles that she saw before, and she hurried to do the same. She sat next to a male night elf, pulling her hood even more, so he could not recognize her.

"Where are you?"she asked.

"Up." She heard the answer in her thoughts. Kyra raised her eyes towards the ceiling, and saw the enormous chains that were holding the cage, dangling slightly, without drawing attention. He was walking towards the priestess, risking his life by choosing to climb at such great height.

"The priestess will be reborn in the master's name" their leader screamed, his voice booming and strong, sending a shiver down her spine. She lowered her head, and with care inspected once more the hilts of her swords. They were there, waiting for her to act.

"Three...two...one...Cover your ears" she heard in her head, and quickly brought both hands to her head. She could see the surprised look of the night elf next to her, and she looked him in the eyes, a wave o terror spreading across his features, as he recognized her in an instant. He opened his mouth to shout a warning, but right when he was about to do so, a small, white smoking object fell between them, and Kyra leaped on the right side, as far away from it as she could.

A loud boom could be heard, strong as close proximity thunder, reverberating through the walls of the room, projecting a dozen of the cultists through the air, like rag dolls, smiting their bodies on the cave stones. Right after the first, a second one fell, louder than the first, a blinding flash dismantling their ranks once more. The blast took her by surprise, and she jumped on the ground, covering her head. The noise caused chaos among cultists, and filled the chamber with white smoke and desperate screams.

She could hear a ringing in her ears, even though she covered them. She shook her head, and hooded her eyes. She slowly got up, trying not to inhale the smoke, taking short breaths.

"What is this disturbance?! Seize them!" she heard the Drakkari voice faintly through the smoke filled area. A thud behind her made her turn on her heels, swords at ready. "It's me!" she heard in her thoughts. She stepped a few feet forward, until she could barely see his frame. He was still in stealth, but this served to their advantage. She turned away from him, with her back pressed against his. Her eyes could see through the dense smoke a couple of disoriented silhouettes, roaming around in search for them. She could hear their whispers, and they were casting spells, aimed towards them. But the dense smoke curtain confused them, and she could tell, they were sometimes hit each other. She let the robe fall down from her body, and crouched her frame. Her grip tightened on the hilts of her swords, and she drew them in one swift motion.

"See you on the other side..." she whispered, grinning.

"See ya on the otha' side"..." he answered in a low voice

Two cultists got way to close, one to the left, and one to the right, and she aimed her blows towards them and with a roar, she swung her blades, cutting with her both swords at the same time, opening wounds and carving through flesh. They collapsed at her feet, and she kicked them aside. More came, and she rotated in a quick whirlwind , with her weapons outstretched, plunging them into one 's body, cutting a second one's neck. She only wounded the third one, and he cast a shadow bolt, that hit her leg. Kyra lost balance for a brief moment, the spell carving through her armor, burning her skin, and she landed in one knee. She hissed at the spell caster, as it hurt and that made her angry. The cultist fell down, with blood gurgling from his throat, as the rogue was quick to react, gouging the attacker. The smoke was wearing off, and they had little time.

He helped her get up, and they repositioned themselves back to back. She could hear his short breaths, and saw three bodies in front of him. She felt something wet trickling on her neck. She looked at the troll. To her horror, Roh'khin had a open wound on his back, blood pouring from it. But he did not seem to mind, or pay any attention to it. She looked around, and her body tensed. A circle of cultists was gradually forming around them, getting closer and closer, and he slowly slipped in to shadows. The element of surprise was still on their side.

She saw several hands around her, lighting with unholy glow, and crouched down just in time. Bolts of shadow flew around her, hitting their own, curses uttered in all languages Azeroth had and known. She charged towards the one in front of her, and plunged her right sword in the cultists belly. She swung her head, and hit him in the face with her forehead., removing her sword. Not losing momentum, she threw her left sword, and the weapon flew straight towards a second one, sinking in his throat, impaling the one behind him also. She was quick to retrieve her weapon, when a hot bolt, hit her chest. She got projected into a group of cultists, her weight and speed toppling them. She rose up, her ribcage was hurting, making it hard to breathe, her chestpiece had a hole in it, but luckily for her, the skin was only slightly burned. She could see casters dying, falling down like fleas, throats being cut, arteries opened, the rogue being fast in his killings, gouging the enemy without remorse. She could see he was bleeding also, had cuts,burns and wounds all over his body.

The sight of it fueled her rage and anger. Her veins started pumping adrenaline in to her veins, the thrill of battle getting the best of her. She released a battle roar, and launched herself in the middle of the enemy ranks. She started fighting left and right, hitting with her swords mercilessly, blood and pained cries filling the room. They casted spells at her, but she did not feel them, nor she flinched. Her eyes were kindled by anger, her lips in a thin line, spreading death upon the army of cultists. She was wreaking havoc, killing some of them, smearing her armor with blood. Her swords were crimson, flesh and skin dangling from their blades., her breath the corner of her eye, she could see some of them fleeing and she smiled. She was prepared to charge into another group, when a burst of pain took over her body, numbing her. Waves of agony made the torment greater, as her heart started beating slower, and slower. She dropped her swords and fell to her knees. With what remained of her strength her gaze searched for her companion, the rogue. He was laying down, few feet from her, palms on the ground, his face contorted by pain, trying to get up.

"Enough!" she heard the Drakkari troll's voice.

The cultists quickly retreated to the edges of the room, leaving them in the center. Through her misery, she heard footsteps approaching.

"My, my...What do we have here..." the leader smiled, revealing his long, sharp teeth. He made a short gesture, and their bodies were lifted swiftly in the air. He slowly made them spin mid air, so they could face him. He removed his hood, exposing to the view a deformed head. He was bald, his long ears sticking out pointy, his skeletal features making them look even longer than they were. His head had an ugly scab that covered most of it, rotten flesh covering where his hairline had been. He got scalped in the past. His face was adorned with ritualistic tattoos, making him look fierce. His eyes were crimson, his lips curled in a snarl. He inspected their hanging frames, and looked Kyra up and down, pacing slowly around her, hands behind his back.

"Kyra Moongaze, as I can recall. Your reputation precedes you, little one. Strong willed, and stubborn as they come. A priest, a warrior, a warden or a demon hunter? I bet you don't even know what you are, or where you belong...A foolish gesture to come here, but brave, nonetheless. You came here ar a mighty rescuer? Your leader is strong , very powerfull" he pointed towards the suspended body of Tyrande "She will be the perfect vessel for our leader. You, on the other hand, will have the great honor of being reborn in the Master's name! But I must admit, your fighting skills are exceptional, matched only by the cruelty of trolls. Speaking of which..." his gaze fell upon the rogue, a content smile on his face "Honnah, Roh'khin fon... obeah mal yuutee, otha e'ko?"[1] he uttered in Zandali.

Roh'khin hissed at him, the pain being hard to ignore, and with great effort, spat through his teeth: "T'ief godehsi wha, quashi Bwon'tulak".[2]

A thunderous roar erupted from Roh'khin's lungs, spreading through the tunnel halls, as the necromancer put his hand on the trolls chest. Kyra watched helplessly, as she could not do anything but watch. She felt powerless, and tried to think about any solutions, but her brain was shut down. And the pain was growing in waves. The agony of the spell was eating her flesh, burning her soul. The only solution was to make the cult leader to focus on her.

"Stop it, you mad cave lizard! I spit on you and your master!" Kyra yelled, gasping, and spat towards the troll. The cult leader turned his head quickly, and a mad flare traveled across his face. He removed his hand from the troll, and pressed his dirty palm on her forehead, baring his teeth.

A shot of pain, greater than before plunged in to her mind. She screamed so loud, that she felt her throat sore. Her thoughts became hazy, as the Drakkari troll bore in her head with his spell. The veins in her temples popped out, almost like they were ready to pierce her skin, but she resisted. She tried to focus her mind on the mental link she had with the troll, when a new shock arrow stung her brain. She screamed again, this time controlling her breath, sinking her chin in to her chest in a desperate attempt to resist. Her vision became red, as blood vessels popped in her left eye.

"Anu'dora!"she heard, barely conscious.

Kyra saw the Drakkari thrown like a rag doll in to the near by wall. She felt the binding spell subside, and her body hit the ground, and her head hit it first. She heard a crack in her temples, her skull kissed the ground harder than she expected. He vision became blurred, and she tried to get up. A pair of hands helped her stand up. She looked back and saw the rogue on his feet, a slim string of blood dripping from his ear on to his neck. He looked tired and drained. He held her upright just to make sure that she could stand on her own, nodded, and melted in to shadows.

Kyra looked up, still dizzy, and saw Tyrande. The view made her jaw drop. The priestess was slowly descending, floating mid air, a glowing yellow light surrounding her. Her green hair was crowning her head in beautiful cascades, and her eyes held such serenity, that it was hard not to get mesmerized by them. Her hands were outstretched, rays of light emitting from them, lighting the room with a pleasant warmth. The cultists that survived the holy smite, were hiding in the room's corners, cowering before her power. In this state, they could do nothing against her. Tyrande was free of her troll was quick before to erase the enchantments that held the priestess moments before.

The leader of the casters, rose up, only to get smitten again against the wall several times, until his frame fell down, limp. In that moment, from the ground, out of thin air, holy shackles appeared, freezing the Drakkari bloody form in one place. His followers went out screaming in horror, stumbling on the corpses that lay down, scattered, as few of them survived her spell.

Tyrande landed next to Kyra, and at the sight of the warrior, a gasp escaped her lips.

"Moongaze...Where is Shandris?" she asked, concern in her voice

"She is not here, High Priestess..." Kyra mumbled, bowing her head. Tyrande's eyes widened in horror, and Kyra added hastily "But she is alive, I said I will come after you. I made that call. In case I did not survive, she will be alive and well, so we will have a fair leader for our people"

Tyrande planted a hand gently on her shoulder and smiled.

"You've made a good call, Moongaze. I must say I am impressed, and slightly curious." She added while looking at the pile of corpses around the room, her gaze falling upon their unconscious leader." How did you break the enchantments from the cage?"

"I had help, High Priestess" Kyra propped her body on the cave wall, as she was getting dizzy. "But you won't like it" she added in Common, and locked her eyes with the priestess, smiling ironically.

Tyrande's eyes went dark, and she stepped closer to the warrior, her eyelids slightly dropped. Her left hand started glowing again, as anger flared only briefly on the priestess features.

"What did you do, Moongaze?"she said in Common too, her voice sounded menacing.

"Nothing. I just had help. He broke the enchantments." Kyra retorted and rolled her eyes, the pain from her head getting stronger.

"He?" Tyrande's eyebrow went up

"Dat will be me, High Priestess. Roh'khin of tha' Darkspear."

The troll frame materialized before her eyes with his both arms up, showing that he was unarmed, and he bowed his head before the priestess. Tyrande quickly turned on her heels and started casting a spell towards the rogue.

"Stop it!" Kyra leaped in front of the rogue, shielding him with her body, earning a furious glare from the priestess.

"Crazy!What are ya' doin'?"his voice echoed in her mind, but she simply shook her head.

"He saved my life, and he saved yours! Are allegiances that important now?!Look at all the bodies on the floor, High Priestess. Look at them! More than half of them is his doing! AND LOOK AT US! Did we not suffer enough ?"

The warrior gaze turned crimson, her breath erratic, her fists clenched on the hilts of her weapons. It was the first time when she stood up to Tyrande, and the moment brought an overwhelming satisfaction that washed over her mind. The Priestess's eyes were narrowed, anger darting in them, which she wasn't even trying to mask. Tyrande's gaze inspected them both, her frame still, prepared to attack.

They both looked miserable. Kyra had blood trickling from her left eye, her neck bruised, a hole in her chest piece, her armor cracked, multiple cuts, scratches and wounds all over her body where the plate was missing. Her legs were shaking, and she put her entire effort in standing upright. Bun marks where scattered all over her garment. Her swords were at ready, but she could barely stand. As her body was moving slowly from side to side.

Behind her, Roh'khin was bleeding from his ears, his eyes were swollen, his face stained with congealed blood. His knuckles were full of blood, his armor tattered. But his stance did not betray any hostility, any anger or hatred. He just stood there, waiting for the priestess next move. Tyrande's eyes went wide, as her gaze stopped at the trolls neck, where a glowing vial, on a slim necklace was resting.

"What is in that vial, troll?" she asked in Common, her eyes never leaving his face, her body tense.

The troll's eyes slowly descended from the Priestess to his necklace. He firmly closed his fist around it.

"De otha' half of mah soul, Priestess...Dey took it from me"the rogue said in a low, pained tone.

Kyra froze, and slowly turned back around in shock to look at the rogue that spoke. He had indeed a glowing vial tied around his neck . His words from earlier resounded in her head: "Dey leadah has somethin that belongs ta me", and she simply stared at him, confused.

"Very well then. I am not in a position of choosing allies right now." Tyrande's expression softened, and her stance relaxed "The enemy of my enemy is my friend in these dire times. In the past, your...kin...helped me, troll, so I might aswell return the favor"."I am weak, but I can still cast a spell to get us close to home. Our home. " She emphasized the last words, looking straight in the rogue's eyes. He nodded in response.

"Kyra, hand me the crystal"

Kyra quickly searched in her pouch and handed her the stone. To her surprise, the stone was bright yellow.

"Lucky for you, troll" she added, " I attuned this crystal to one place. That place it's at the border between Ashenvale and Stonetalon Mountains. We can go. Together."

"Thank you, High Priestess..." Kyra started.

"However..." Tyrande interrupted her, "We will not speak of this again. This event will not be shared with anybody, and no one will know about what happened here. That is my only condition. "

"Dis troll be vowing on his own soul." Roh'khin mumbled, tapped at the vial on his neck, and bowed his head.

"You know I don't speak with anyone, as no one speaks with me, Priestess. But I swear, on my family's grave that I will keep this a secret." Kyra said in a low voice

"If any of you forgets this vow, death will be the punishment" Tyrande said in a cold, steady voice.

A now familiar whooshing sound could be heard from the hallway, and they turned their attention towards it. A commotion of fast steppes and voices was quickly and dangerously approaching.

"Portals...Dey are bringin' more" the troll hissed.

"Place your hands on the stone! Now!" Tyrande said loud, and started chanting a spell in Darnasae.

Their three hands were places on the magic object, and a faint, warm, white light enveloped them, as the space around them warped in to nothingness. They could see cultists approaching, casting spells, but the cave became a blur, and the three of them vanished. Kyra closed her eyes, for a brief moment, and when she opened them, the familiar trees of Ashenvale formed before her very eyes. She blinked.

Could it be?Please...

Birds...

She could hear birds! Her chest filled with joy, and her nostrils inhaled the smell of leafs and fresh rain.

They were home. On Azeroth. It was over...

Kyra turned her gaze towards the rogue, but he was nowhere to be seen. Her heart sunk. Did he pass with them?

"I bet we will see eachotha' again" she heard in her head, and a light tap on her shoulder assured her that he did, but vanished as soon as they got there. She nodded and looked at Tyrande, who's look was scolding her, her eyes tired.

Kyra looked in the distance and saw some shapes that could only be Sentinels. "An hour 'ere is like a second in tha' real world", she remembered, and a flare of hope lit her features.

"Over here!" she yelled waving her hands up in the air "We are back! I promised I will get her back!"

"Moongaze, compose yourself!" Tyrande whispered, and pulled her hand.

Kyra smiled and saw one of the Sentinels turning. It was Shandris .Tyrande's most trusted companion turned her head towards them, and not believing her eyes, started running towards the pair, limping

" You are safe, Priestess" Kyra whispered to Tyrande, cupping her hands, and bowing her head.

In that moment, she felt her body relax. As soon as she did so, the trees started spinning, and her head became clouded. She tried to keep her balance, but the action was futile.

"I...am so...tired..." she mumbled, the fatigue and the wound commanding her body to shut down, and under the concerned look of the priestess, she simply collapsed, numb, on the forest floor.


[1] Hello, Roh'khin, thank you for half of your soul, came to give the other half?

[2] Sands consume you, idiotic Death singer