Chapter 26 - The spirits of Ashenvale

The following days were full of hard work from the orcs. As soon as they arrived at the forest, they had immediately drawn their axes and began taking down trees to build their new settlement. In no time they had new barracks, war mills, watch towers and great halls erected.

Dalrus was absolutely appalled by how they could simply chop down those ancient, mystical trees one after another without a single care in their minds. He didn't doubt most of those were probably older than all the orcs there combined. And yet within two days they had deforested a large enough portion to establish a base.

During this time, Dalrus had finally managed to enjoy some freedom from his improvised cage. It had been a simple matter of sneaking out as soon as the doors were open, then making his way into the woods surrounding the area, away from the main orc base camp.

Ashenvale forest was simply breathtaking. The arid wastelands of Kalimdor were still within sight behind him, and it was quite fun to observe the sharp contrast of the dry, sandy ground they had just traversed and the lush green foliage that spread as far as the eye could see before him.

And then there was that... Feeling. That sensation. Like him and the orcs weren't alone there. Something... Or someone... Was there, besides them. And Dalrus wasn't referring to the small group of goblins he had discovered not too far from the orc camp. Something else lurked in this forest. As if the trees themselves carried spirits within them, harvesting their energy and flowing back into the lands below.

He had never seen grass so green his entire life. Water so pure and clean. Insects buzzing around the bushes and the treetops above, tiny critters running along the woods, and some local indigenous creatures that looked like bears constantly walking on two feet who wore tribal-looking feathers and amulets over their hulking bodies.

During that time, Dalrus meditated on his predicament. There was no possible way for him to make the journey back to the human outposts on his own. It had taken several days of very intense voyage to arrive at this spot - which was all the more intense thanks to the orcs' inhumane resilience and stamina. During this time, he was certain the Human Alliance had relocated their bases someplace else, and he had no idea where that could be. So, for the moment, the only move he could make was wait and see, hoping that he would get some information regarding the Gilneas Brigade. Perhaps the main force of the Horde would request backup, and the Warsong would mobilize again? Until such a happy time, all the young rogue could do was sneak around the orc camp unseen and loiter on the gorgeous treetops - until the lumber harvesters came too close, that was.

Now, Dalrus had seen the dwarven and gnomish machines before, and those were absolutely mind-boggling inventions. But the stuff that the goblins had created looked like something straight out of the realm of fiction.

The lumber harvesters created by the goblins were in fact massive suits of armor - as tall as two orcs standing on each other's shoulders - with the goblin pilot sitting where the helmet would usually be. This would be a baffling notion, were it not for the fact that the armor was filled to the brim with mechanical contraptions that allowed the goblin to move the harvester as if it were their own arms and legs.

With the aid of these hulking metal machines and their mischievous little green friends, the Warsong orcs were quickly obliterating every tree in their path, using the materials to erect more and more of their buildings. None of this, however, came close to what Dalrus saw next.

It was on his third day that the boy made a discovery that would change his life forever. Or, more specifically, very late at night, when the moon was high and bright in the sky, as it always seemed to be in Kalimdor. The moonlight was so bright that it almost felt like the sun, illuminating everything in Dalrus' path.

As he was taking a long and relaxing walk through the woods, Dalrus heard the sound of falling water. He calculated that it was most likely a waterfall, so the boy began to make his way there, curious and thirsty. As he came closer and closer to the source of that serene sound, the trees and the bushes got thicker and thicker, forming a sort of natural barrier around it. A little annoyed, he ducked down and began to crawl his way through the bushes, until, finally, he emerged on the other side and was greeted with a vision that he would still dream of sometimes for the rest of his life.

Surely enough, there was the waterfall. A small cliff composed of glistening gray stones with a steady stream of Ashenvale's crystalline water pouring down its middle, with rocky shores and tall trees surrounding it, forming a little lake. And on that lake, bathing, were three of the most exotic and beautiful women Dalrus had ever laid eyes upon.

They all sported skin that was a deep shade of violet, or varying tones of that color. Their ears were enormous and pointy, much like the elves Dalrus had met in the Human Expedition camp. These women, however, were much taller than the high elves. Their hair was also different shades of blue and green. Dalrus could see their eyes were bright glowing orbs, like shining stars over their beautiful faces. A couple of them sported tattoos in the shapes of red and white stripes over their cheeks and eyes. And then there were those freakishly long eyebrows sticking out the sides of their faces (seriously, what was up with that?). All this, Dalrus took notice, before his eyes fell upon their naked bodies, his jaw dropping. They were all absolutely fit and athletic, like soldiers.

He remained there for what felt like an eternity, dumbfounded by what he was seeing and wondering if that was a dream. They hadn't noticed him yet, as the young rogue was still partially hidden under the trees and the bushes and hadn't moved an inch since arriving there. Suddenly, he heard one of them say something. It was similar to what he had heard Lyafra say to her friends back in their base camp. And then they were all laughing. A sweet, melodious sound that seemed to make the very stars above shine brighter. He found himself with a silly smile despite himself.

Then, movement. He heard branches and leaves rustling to his right. Instinctively, Dalrus activated his stealth and lowered his chin to the floor, remaining completely still. With gracious steps as if she were a dancer, a fourth of those strange elves walked into the scene, only a few paces from where the peeper was hiding. This one, however, was wearing a long cloak, and carried a large quiver over her back with an elegant wooden bow held in her left hand. He heard this new one say something in elvish, and the three bathing girls nodded and proceeded to walk towards the shore, where, Dalrus had completely failed to notice, their weapons and clothing lay - bows, quivers, cloaks and robes, all matching.

Dalrus watched as the women dried themselves, then put on their armor and robes before picking up their weapons and walking out with the newcomer. In the distance, he heard the loud chirp of an owl, and suddenly snapped back to reality. 'Oh I just gotta see more of this.' He eagerly thought to himself as, still stealthed, he rushed from his spot and followed after the women.

However, for the first time in his life, Dalrus found himself unable to track someone.

It was as if they had disappeared as soon as they walked into the forests. There weren't even tracks to follow on the ground. No broken branches, no footprints, not even the soothing sound of their voices to follow. They were simply... Gone.

Dalrus was baffled. He pondered if he had really seen all this, or maybe this had all been some kind of dream... Or a delusion. It was very late, after all. Sighing, the boy shook his head, and began to tread back towards the orc camp.

That night, he ended up having to sleep among the woods, as it would probably be too dangerous to traverse the forests at night alone, no matter how good he was at stealth. As morning came and the sun rose, Dalrus leapt down from the improvised nest he had built over a particularly thick branch of a tree and proceeded with his return to the Warsong camp.

His journey took all day, and the sun was almost setting again when he made it there, feeling quite famished after the long walk... What he saw, however, made him lose all appetite.

The orcs were engaged in battle against those women he had seen earlier.

There was a war mill nearby, which the orc peons were currently utilizing to stockpile lumber to build the rest of the base. And surrounding it were those women. He spotted the cloaked archers he had met earlier, as well as more armored ones riding what appeared to be gigantic black cats as big as the wolves the orc raiders possessed. He even spotted some elves up in the air, riding the most bizarre creatures Dalrus had ever laid eyes upon. They had the body of a horse, and their heads resembled gryphons, but instead of a proud eagle head, they looked more like ravens with antlers like those of a buck. They also had wings on their backs, with their elven knights raining deadly arrows at the green-skinned enemies below.

The fierce howls of Grommash filled the air as he ran forward, swinging his axe against the closest grounded elf, the rest of his warriors following suit and attacking the women any way they could, tossing axes, javelins and even nets. Dalrus had expected this to be a one sided massacre... After all, how could a bunch of women with nothing but bows, arrows and what appeared to be a metal disk with spikes coming out of it hope to face not just the orcish horde, but the feared Warsong clan?

It was much to his surprise - and probably Grommash's as well - that not only were the women successful in deftly evading most of the orc blows, they were suddenly armed with short, thin blades and hacking down the orc grunts and raiders with ferocity to match their foes. Surely enough, they were suffering losses... But so were the orcs. The battle was a long and fierce one... But ultimately, the orcs were victorious, as the women suddenly began to retreat and vanish into the woods, with only a handful of them left behind, dead.

Dalrus did not know what to do. Who were they? Where had they come from? Why were they attacking the orcs? It would seem the horde was just as confused as he was in that matter, if the complaints from the grunts and the harsh responses from their chieftain were any indication. Whatever this was, Dalrus thought, it was definitely not over.

Over the rest of the day, the defenses on the camp were fortified, especially as more and more lumber was harvested. Dalrus noticed Grommash had made contact with the goblins he had spotted the other day once more, and some deal seemed to have been made, since he also noticed even more of those robotic harvesters join the orc's efforts to bring down the entire forests. Those things could bring trees down as easily as Grommash could cleave a person in half.

But now, each time that happened, Dalrus noticed... For every tree that fell, it was almost as if the land itself was grieving. Recoiling in pain, but unable to react.

It was later that night when the second elf attack came. This time, they brought a new kind of weapon; a wooden contraption that looked like an enormous bow with wheels so it could be moved around, and bolts as large as Dalrus was. He recognized them as some kind of siege weapon, since those bolts had tremendous reach and caused some serious damage when they were fired upon the orcish war mills. Screaming his challenge, Grommash rushed to meet his foes, but as soon as the horde began to advance, the attackers retreated yet again.

"Warchief! We can't follow them!" One grunt was saying. "These warrior women are using the trees to vanish! Not even the wolves can track them in there."

"THEN WE SHALL CUT DOWN THE TREES TO THE LAST AND FLUSH THEM OUT OF THEIR HIDING!" Grommash responded, then made a hand signal. "BRING THE CATAPULTS! I DON'T CARE IF IT'S A WASTE, BURN THE TREES DOWN AND SMOKE THEM OUT! FIND WHERE THEY ARE AND SLAUGHTER THEM TO THE LAST!"

Dalrus thought he had been appalled by the lengths these orcs were willing to go before, but even this caught him by surprise. The orc catapults fired their smoldering boulders down against the trees, and down they went, burning to a crisp and clearing a path for the horde to advance within the hour, as the goblin harvesters salvaged whatever lumber they could get their mechanical hands on.

Dalrus himself was very curious about where this would lead... But he wasn't sure if he wanted to help those women. Sure, they looked like the elves... Somewhat. But who were they? What did they want? Were they enemies of the Human Expedition as well? The other night, he had thought them innocent dwellers of the woods... But the ferocity they had displayed during their attacks against the orcs had proven him otherwise. Even more so as, several times over, they ambushed the advancing wave of destruction Grommash was unleashing with lightning fast hit and run tactics that ravaged their catapults and left many orc warriors dead.

But still, Grommash would not relent. They had more than enough material to replace the catapults destroyed, and his warriors didn't seem to lose any morale over their companions' deaths.

It was then that Dalrus realized something. 'This is their home.', he thought. 'They are fighting to defend their forest. They see the orcs as brutish, evil invaders bent on destroying their homes. Same way we used to.'

Thrall had made Dalrus come to respect the orcs and their people… But Grommash was beyond that. He was hellbent on slaughtering these people who did nothing more than defend themselves and protect their homes, for the crime of daring to stand up to their killers. And with that, Dalrus made his decision.

Filled with new determination, the rogue activated his stealth and ran ahead of the trail of destruction the Horde was creating, waiting for the next elf attack. He almost missed it when it happened, so apt they were in moving through those woods unseen, like he was doing.

Like every time before, their attack came swiftly and suddenly. The elves burst from the trees like ghosts, showering the orcs with their arrows as their mounted warriors advanced and threw their glaives - the bladed metallic disks - at the catapults. And as soon as the orcs began to organize their counter attack, the elves retreated one more.

This time, however, when they began to retreat, Dalrus focused his attention and managed to make out the path they were following as they vanished back through the trees under the curses of the Warsong Chieftain.

And that was how he found their base. Yet again, the sight shocked him, and left him wondering if he had walked into a dream.

There was a clearing in the woods... If you could call it that. All over the place were trees... But trees unlike any Dalrus had ever laid eyes upon. They looked like they had... Faces. With eyes. Mouths. And branches that looked like arms hanging over their sides. And in the center of it all, a gigantic tree, bigger than any other, literally brimming with some sort of... Natural, life-filled energy in the shape of a golden glitter flying back and forth over the branches like a swarm of hundreds of fireflies.\

There were also strange wells with little altars around them, the water within emanating a strange glow that reminded Dalrus of the moonlight. The women seemed to be gathering around those, many of them kneeling in prayer. He heard the word 'Elune' repeated several times as he began to sneak his way inside the camp.

Eventually, he reached what looked like the only building in that place that wasn't alive. It was a wide, purple lodge, and within, many of those warrior women were looking at a map and discussing what Dalrus assumed were battle tactics to fend off the orcs. As he came closer for a better look, he was pleasantly surprised to see they were speaking common, for once.

"...Since the old days of the Burning Legion." One woman whom Dalrus assumed was their commander was saying. "In just these few days they have decimated a large portion of the forest, and now those savages march towards us bringing flame and destruction in their wake with no regard for nature."

Another one of them let out a deep sigh, then nodded. "Indeed... Our scouting parties are not enough to hold them back. No matter how many we kill, they are relentless in their advance. It is only a matter of time before they arrive here... And I have no doubt they will aim for the Tree of Life itself."

"It must not come to that!" The first one suddenly said, her fist slamming against the table. "How dare they desecrate our sacred grove! The forest weeps with their crimes. Before long, even Cenarius himself will come deliver them the divine punishment they deserve. We need only hold fast, sisters. Elune is with us. We must protect the forests at all costs."

'Who the bloody hell is Elune?' Dalrus pondered, stroking his chin. His question was interrupted when a horn was sounded in the distance, soon followed by the unmistakable noise of the Horde's war machines mowing down everything in their path as they approached the camp.

"Already? Oh, mother moon..." One of the elves in the cabin said, her hands covering her mouth. "What shall we do? We cannot stop them...!"

"Silence, Lyaera! We must stop them, or die trying! Ana'doreini talah! To arms, sisters!" The commander shouted the words, followed by war cries from the rest of them as they all picked up their bows and ran towards the edge of the camp where Grommash and his orcs were approaching from. Dalrus saw that one elf who had voiced her despair - either her name was Lyaera or that was another insult in elven - hesitate for a moment. Her hands were trembling, her violet face had gone pale, and her eyes were very wide. He then saw her pull a little amulet from her robes - it looked like a blue crystal shaped like a half moon. "Elune, please... Give me strength..." She whispered, then tucked the amulet back in and followed her sisters to battle.

To their deaths.

Dalrus didn't know what to do. Those elves were doomed. There was no way their magical living trees could stop the Warsong. Sure, they were fierce fighters... But a cunning fish cannot outmatch an entire school of sharks. There was simply no stopping the axe from falling upon them.

To their merit... The elves did not relent in their defense. As soon as the Horde showed up over the fallen, burning forest, the elven defenders' gigantic magical trees suddenly began to move on their own, some of them actually uprooting themselves from the earth and growing legs to advance and engage the orcs.

The elves themselves were just as determined in their fight, facing the horde head-on without a hint of fear in their hearts. Alas, it was to no avail. Sure, they did a fine job at halting the orcs... But only temporarily. The fire spread, and one by one, those living trees, the ancients, fell, only to be mercilessly chopped down and harvested for their wood. Dalrus watched as the warrior women were cut down one by one, almost like the forest they were so desperate to protect. Before long... There was only a small regimen of them with their backs against the greatest ancient of all, whom they had earlier referred to as the "Tree of Life."

"You fought well, for a bunch of women with hunting gear." Grommash said, his face twisted into a sadistic grin of mockery. "It was a good battle. You have all earned honorable deaths. At the very least, I will spare you the sight of your beloved trees being brought down to build our own bases."

Among the elves that had survived to the end was the captain from earlier. With a fearless expression on her hooded face, the woman stepped forward and spat towards the orc chieftain. "You know not what you have wrought upon yourself today, brute. You may claim our lives and scar the land, but the forest shall never surrender to the likes of you. Today you have incurred the wrath of nature. And that is a battle a savage like you could never hope to win. Andu-falah-dor!" Her fellow elves all shouted in response, then drew her bows and began to let loose their arrows as Grommash simply laughed, then gave the signal for his warriors to advance. "This nature of tours is nothing more than timber to be harvested, elf. I will not be stopped by a bunch of trees, nor the women protecting them."

Dalrus couldn't bear to watch. The entire fight he had been hiding on the tree tops surrounding the elven camp, and now he was just behind the tree of life as the elves made their last stand against the Warsong. He closed his eyes, but couldn't drown out the screams. The elves fought valiantly to the end... But alas. Their end was inevitable.

All life ends. Even nature will one day rot and wither. You cannot escape the cycle. You too will one day be consumed. It is only a matter of time.

"Please, keep talking. At least your annoying voice drowns out everything else."

Gritting his teeth, Dalrus turned his back on the slaughter and began to walk a little further into the woods to try and leave all that savagery and death behind him... Only to suddenly hear sobbing. Confused, he looked around, and tried to follow the source of those choked, painful gasps. After a while, he began to hear a voice as well. "No... They are dead. They have all fallen... And I have abandoned them. Elune help me, why... Why did this have to happen... Who are they... Why are they here... What should I do..."

Dalrus recognized it as the hesitant elf he had heard earlier. Slowly he came closer and closer to the source of the voice... Until he spotted the woman slumped down against a tree, her face in her gloved hands as she sobbed and whimpered uncontrollably. "I don't want to die... Mother moon save me, I don't want to die... I don't want to see the forest in pain... What should I do? Cenarius, guide me... Elune, give me strength, I beg you... Oh, my sisters... My sisters...!"

His heart racing in his chest, Dalrus found himself once more with no idea on how to proceed. Should he say something? Should he help her? But what could he do? If the orcs came this way, there was no way they would not find her... Then what? Would she be a prisoner? Unlikely. The Warsong didn't seem the type to make prisoners.

He heard more rustling from behind him. Perking up, Dalrus looked over his shoulder, then upwards. The tree the elf was crying against had some low, thick branches. The boy shadow stepped on top of one, then squinted, trying to get a look of who was approaching.

A pair of orc grunts were making their way over the woods, axes in hand. "I'm telling you I saw some of them coming this way. Cowards. A true warrior fights to the end. I'm glad we are finally putting their base to the torch. I was sick of their honorless tactics. The only way to fight is by coming to your enemy from the front, not the back and the sides before running away with your tail between your legs!"

His friend grunted in agreement. "I'm gonna enjoy hunting the rest of them down. They killed many of my friends back there. I won't rest until my axe is wet with more of their blood!"

Dalrus' heart sank. He looked back down at the desperate elf who was too lost in her grief to notice the two grunts coming her way. 'What do I do? Should I divert them? Kill them? But I can't let them know I'm here... Oh man.' Biting on his lip nervously, he looked around for anything he could use to distract the orcs... But it was too late. They had already heard the crying. Grinning to each other, they began to move closer and closer to where she was.

Dalrus looked down at his waist. He was still carrying his weapons... The daggers that had become a pair of short swords against his will. 'Oh bugger me... Why can't I ever just mind my own business?' He thought with an internal sigh as he pulled them from his belt and held one in each hand. 'You'd think after last time I risked my life to save someone I'd have learned my lesson.'

The orcs were so close, the elf noticed them now. He saw the woman lift her head, and suddenly realized she was one of the bathing girls he had found the previous night - the one with the red tattoos over her brows and cheeks. He saw her entire body shake violently as she clumsily reached down for her bow and pulled an arrow against the string, then she got up and walked a few steps back.

The orcs emerged one from each side of the tree. The woman let go of the arrow, and it flew towards one of her attackers, hitting one in the arm. The grunt let out a scream of pain and rage, and his friend let out a savage howl and ran towards his helpless prey, those bright, glowing eyes of hers that resembled stars suddenly clouded by fear.

The grunt lifted his axe. Then he brought it down.

The metallic noise of his blade hitting Dalrus' crossed daggers echoed in the woods around them, but was ultimately drowned out by the victorious screams of the rest of the Warsong cutting down the Tree of Life far behind them.

"What the... A human? Here?" The orc was absolutely perplexed, seeing his weapon parried by Dalrus'. "Where did you come from?"

"A nice place on the seaside. Now go to hell." Dalrus practically snarled his reply, then, with a little sidestep, one of his blades slid down along the length of the orc's axe, the other one leaning to the side so it would push the blade and make it fall harmlessly to the side of Dalrus' body - and the elven girl behind him. His first blade reached the orc's grip, and three thick, stubby green fingers were suddenly flying through the air before they fell on the muddy floor below.

The orc let out a scream of pain, his axe falling to the floor as he grabbed his maimed haind. Dalrus took the opportunity to bring one of his weapons against the orc's neck. A clean cut sliced his throat wide open, and fresh warm blood began to gush out of the wound. The grunt choked in his own blood for a few moments before his corpse fell on the floor.

"I'LL SKIN YOU ALIVE FOR THIS, HUMAN DOG! LOK'TAR OGAR!" The other grunt screamed and charged at Dalrus, his arrow wound all but forgotten as he lifted the axe above his head with both arms.

Dalrus ducked into a low crouch. His... Swords were too large for him to use his shadowstrike. So he'd have to think of something else. Something more... Sinister.

Dalrus feinted to the right, then suddenly lunged from the left. The grunt, however, saw through his maneuver, and with a wide swing of his axe, he managed to keep Dalrus away from him. The boy had to do a barrel roll over the ground and gain some distance from his foe so he wouldn't lose his head with the attack.

The orc slammed his fist against his chest. "FOR THE WARSONG!" He screamed once more, then charged at Dalrus again. This time, he stood his ground, blades at ready, waiting for the grunt to get closer...

And suddenly the orc slumped over and fell before the boy's feet, an arrow sticking out the back of his neck. Behind him, Dalrus saw the elf standing there, her bow still held high and her hand shaking, in the same place she had used to pull the arrow that had just ended the orc's life.

With a sigh of relief, Dalrus lowered his swords and nodded at her. "Thanks, I was about to do something I wouldn't be very proud of..." He then began to walk towards her. "But there could still be more on their way, so we should-"

He stopped short when suddenly the woman dropped her bow and pulled out a thin, long silver sword from her cloak, the tip trembling and pointed towards Dalrus. "S-stay back, defiler! You will not... I won't let you corrupt the forests any further!"

Her eyes were completely wide, her brows were furrowed, and Dalrus could still see the wet smudges of her tears staining her cheeks. Her breath was heavy and erratic, and her legs were also shaking under her. Slowly, the boy bent his knees until he could drop his swords on the floor, which he did. He then lifted his hands to show he was unarmed. "I'm not going to hurt you, or the forest. I want to help you."

"L-lies! You outsiders... You did all this! You cut down our sacred woods, and you killed my sisters! I will never forgive you for what you've done!" Clear, thick tears were forming on the corners of her eyes, and, with a grief-filled yell, the elf charged at Dalrus, blade pointed at his chest.

It was so easy, he could have done it by pure reflex alone. He ducked under the blade's tip, then grabbed the woman by her wrist and the collar of her tunic before slamming his shoulder against her gut and tossing her over his head. The woman lost her grip on her weapon and fell heavily on her back against the floor. Dalrus sighed. "I'm telling you, I'm not gonna hurt you. Those people are my enemies as well, OK? I just want to try and save you."

The woman let out a pained grunt, then suddenly spun around and got up a few paces away from him... Before letting out a sharp gasp and falling to one knee as she held her side. Dalrus noticed her tunic was dark and wet there... She was bleeding.

"Woah, sorry! I didn't know you were... Look, let me help you..." He began to say, once more stepping towards her, only for the woman to suddenly reach for Dalrus' own weapons that he had dropped earlier and holding them before her body. "I won't... You're not gonna... Elune... Save me..." And then he saw her eyes roll up as she collapsed against the ground.

' Please don't be dead, please don't be dead, please don't be dead…' The young rogue thought to himself as he ran towards her and checked her pulse. Thankfully, she was still alive, just unconscious. 'Well... At least, this should make things easier.' With a sigh of relief, he retrieved his weapons, then - with great effort - picked the fainted woman up in his arms and did his best to carry her away from the blood thirsty orcs still harvesting the wood from an ancient magical living tree behind them. As he delved deeper into the woods, he could still hear the sound of the fire burning and the orcs laughing.