Chapter 6
Orgrimmar
"Sylvanas...Windrunner?", Matt swallowed hard. What did this mean? How did he come to be in the care of the leader of the horde? His vision began to clear, but his mind was still reeling, as he tried to piece together the fragments of his last memories. He was with Valeera, Visstra and...
"Oh we share the same name then, how strange", Sylvanas quipped, with a slight smile.
Matt cleared his throat, "My name...is...Matthew...Matt Dawson. Where is Valeera...and...the others?"
Sylvanas leaned forward. "I'm glad to finally put a face to the name, Matt. As for your so called friends, they left you for dead, I'm sorry to say", she touched his arm gently as if to console him, "I don't know where they are, but I assume they escaped to Darkshore. Not exactly good friends if you ask me. I found you badly injured and made sure to get you all healed up as soon as possible, and took you back to Orgrimmar to recover."
His physical pain took a back seat to his growing mental distress. The last thing that he could remember was a knife in his chest, and Valeera and the night elves surrounding him. They...left me? They left me when I could have been healed? Valeera...Valeera...left me to die? "No...she ...wouldn't do that. Valeera, Visstra...they wouldn't"
Sylvanas's face softened with empathy, "I'm sorry, but they did. Maybe you didn't know them as well as you thought you did. I am no stranger to betrayal myself, and you have my sympathy." Her eyes began to burn a deep red, and she gave his arm a gentle squeeze. "It was a miracle that I found you in time, but know this Matt, I will never betray you. I appreciate what you are and together, we will...", she suddenly trailed off, and sat back in her chair. "Well, that's enough for now. You must rest and fully recover. We have time to learn more about each other and discuss some finer details later. I'm sure you are still weary and have a lot to think about."
Matt was trying to process this information in his still fuzzy mind, but he wasn't well enough to think straight. Sylvanas began to get up from her chair, "If you need anything, I have a trusted companion just outside the room. Her name is Tameriel, and she will assist you."
Matt managed to partially sit up in the bed, "Sylvanas." She turned around. "Thank you!"
She smiled. "I will be back later. Get some rest champion", and she left the room, quietly closing the door behind her.
With some effort, he managed to put his hands to his face. "What...the...fuck?" He didn't know what to think, but he knew that he still wasn't in any shape to deliberate on anything, not rationally anyway. His eyes felt heavy, and he allowed himself to fall into another slumber. He would deal with whatever he had to, when he woke up.
Sylvanas
Sylvanas left her room, with the champion still recovering, and turned to Tameriel. Tameriel was standing, almost invisible, in a corner just outside the room. She stepped forward when the warchief closed the door.
"He's awake", Sylvanas said, keeping her voice low. "I will be indisposed for a short time, but I'll be back later. If he needs anything, you are at his disposal. Understood?"
Tameriel could see that her queen's mood had improved, and she was relieved. It was, after all, her own failed attempt to bring the champion to her leader, that had forced Sylvanas herself to bring him to Orgrimmar. "Of course, I'll get him whatever he needs."
"Good", replied Sylvanas. She began to walk away, but quickly turned back, "And Tameriel, don't let him leave my room. It's unlikely, as he doesn't seem in any shape to be up and about, but he is...unpredictable."
"Yes, my queen. If he asks, I'll stall him until you get back", answered the dark ranger.
Sylvanas nodded her approval, and as she walked, she thought about the conversation she just had with Matt. She couldn't be sure if her lie about his alliance friends leaving him for dead was believed or not, but either way, it would surely sow seeds of uncertainty in his mind. Possibly even discontent. She was sure that the alliance had tried to turn him against her, so she would use all the tools at her disposal to direct that enmity right back at them. When he had finally awakened, she did her best to contain her relief. After a week, she had begun to think that he was in some sort of magical stasus, a coma in which he would never wake. She had brought only the most loyal, trustworthy mages, shamans, and healers to his bedside and they had worked on him for days, to no avail. He would not wake,and he could not be healed, because there was no physical damage to his body since it healed itself. Her only option was to wait, and she did.
After the first week, she had tried to connect with his mind herself. If she could form a connection with him, she could not only help to wake him, but she could manipulate his thoughts. If she could destroy his loyalty with the alliance and forge a bond with her, he would be putty in her hands. She spent hours trying, but it was like a barrier had been built around his consciousness. She couldn't be sure if she was having an effect or not. If the results weren't to her satisfaction in the coming days, she would use the old fashioned ways. He was in Orgrimmar now, and she had time to make him see things her way, to make her enemies, his enemies. She knew that she hadn't lost everything that she had in life. She still had her charisma, her charm, her looks. Another sly smile quickly disappeared as she entered the meeting room. She listened to the necessary, but rather boring reports, all the while hoping they would end and she could get back to her new champion. But as before, she would wait. She had time.
Stormwind
For Valeera, the last two weeks were ones that she wished she could forget, but her every waking thought was consumed by guilt and regret. Matthew had left his mark on her, and she had cried herself to sleep more than once. When it wasn't him that she was thinking about, it was the day she used the hearthstone that she discovered in his pack, to return to Stormwind. She couldn't get the faces of Anduin, Jaina and Genn out of her mind when she told them what happened. Genn went ballistic, while Anduin and Jaina's were a picture of shock,pain, and deep regret. She knew Anduin blamed himself for Matthew's death, which only deepened her own guilt and pain.
She lay on her bed, face up, staring at the ceiling. She had tried to drink her grief away, but it had only managed to make her more miserable. Turning on her side, she lay her hand on his guitar, that Thelenia had insisted she keep. She couldn't deny that it had comforted her. When she had given Visstra one of his guitar picks, her heart broke, when the night elf's hand trembled and closed her fingers over it, as if it was a precious jewel to protect. Her only memento of her lost friend.
Things had escalated since then. The leaders of the alliance had met in Stormwind, and Tyrande Whisperwind, fresh from the news of the champion's death, flew into a rage, and decided to launch an attack to regain Darkshore. Genn had agreed with Tyrande, with Anduin's plead to wait until they could muster enough troops together, falling on deaf ears. Valeera had heard that Tyrande had enacted an ancient ritual tied to Elune, and became the night warrior, to pursue her revenge. Mathias Shaw, the leader of SI:7, Stormwind's intelligence service, had told her that Tyrande's eyes had turned black. When she learned of this, she remembered Matthew's dream. He didn't know at the time, that the night elf was Tyrande, but Valeera knew that if his dream was a vision, that she would struggle to control her new power.
She sat up quickly in her bed. Wait...it was a vision. Even if the dream's visions were a distorted version of what could happen, did that also mean that Matthew could be with the horde? Did that mean that he could be alive somehow? She had been dealing with a hurricane of emotions, but why hadn't she thought of this before? But she was there, she had witnessed his last breath herself. Her heart leaped in her chest. She knew that it was impossible, and maybe it was just a foolish, selfish hope, but suddenly she almost believed it. It was him after all. She had seen him do miraculous things. I should never have left him! For the first time in weeks, her body surged with energy. She had a purpose. She couldn't forget Genn almost flipping over a table in fury, when he feared that Sylvanas would raise the champion into undeath, if his body was recovered. She had tried not to think about that possibility, but now she felt in her heart, that it wasn't true.
Valeera began to dress quickly. She was going to disappear. There was no point in telling Anduin, he would just try to stop her. She had her mission now. She was going to Orgrimmar. She was going to search for him, and she was going to bring him back. If he really was dead, and it was a fools errand, then she would deal with the repercussions later, but she had to know. One way or another, she needed to know. She placed her daggers into their sheaths and bent down. Valeera brought her fingers to the guitar strings and plucked each one slowly. She stood up and left the room quietly, not knowing if she would ever return.
Orgrimmar
Matt awoke feeling much stronger. He drank from the flask that was left beside him and felt renewed. Relieved to find that his vision had returned to normal, he sat up in his bed and took in his surroundings. The room was quite dark, functional, but spacious. His stomach rumbled.
"Hello?", he said to the empty room. Almost immediately, a dark ranger stepped inside. Even in the limited light, he could make out that it was a female elf. As she came closer, he could see that her skin was waxy, and extremely pale. Her eyes, like Sylvanas, glowed red.
"Hello, I'm Tameriel. How are you feeling?", the forsaken ranger asked. Her voice was haunting and melodious at the same time.
"I'm feeling much better", he replied. "I'm starving, could I get something to eat, anything right now would be fine"
"Of course, I'll bring you some food right away", she said, and left the room.
Right, I'll eat something first, and think about what the fuck is going on after. They're not going to poison me considering Sylvanas brought me back here, but I'm going to find out why. He could hear Tameriel coming back. One thing's for sure, he thought, I'm not gonna be anyone's fucking puppet. I'll just play it cool...until I don't.
"Here you go, I hope this is okay for now." Tameriel put a tray down on his lap with a smile. He noticed that the skin around her lips crinkled when she did.
There was some kind of meat and bread and what looked like soup on the tray. Whatever it was, it smelled delicious, and Matt began eating with abandon. "Thanks Tameriel", he said through breaks in his chewing, "It's so good."
She looked at him curiously, "You're welcome. You eat like an orc."
Matt grinned while swallowing a chunk of shredded meat, "I'm assuming that isn't a compliment. Sorry, but I'm really hungry. It feels like I haven't eaten in forever. How long was I unconscious?"
Tameriel looked as though she was unsure of what to say. "A couple of weeks."
"Weeks?", he said, keeping his raging thoughts inside. "That's...unexpected", he finished calmly. I have to get the lay of the land as quick as possible and try to get the hell out of here, he thought.
He finished eating and thanked Tameriel again. She left the room, taking the tray with her, and he could feel his energy returning. He stretched and felt his bones cracking and his muscles straining, but he almost felt back to normal. He needed to get up and stretch his legs, get some fresh air, and see exactly where he was. He needed to get outside. He threw the covers off, and realizing that he only had his underwear on, he looked for his clothes. It felt good to finally stand up, but just as he was about to search for his clothes, Tameriel stepped back into the room. He thought he noticed a look of mild panic on her face. At first, he stupidly thought that it was because he was almost naked, but he quickly realized that it was something else.
"What are you doing?", she almost blurted.
"I feel much better, so I thought I would get up, hopefully go outside and get some fresh air", Matt replied.
"I think it would be better for you to get more rest, you don't want to rush things"
"No, I think I've rested enough, don't you?"
She moved towards him now, "You might feel that you're okay, but your body could betray you if you push it too soon"
Matt clenched his jaw, trying to keep his cool. So they won't let me leave. Not exactly a great start if they want to gain my trust. "Look, Tameriel, I feel good. I need to get out of that bed, not stay in it."
"I...I...", she stuttered, "Please, could you just stay here for now."
He stared at her with a blank expression, "Why?"
Tameriel didn't expect him to be this belligerent. She suddenly understood that her abilities to stall were excrutiatingly bad. She had hoped that he would just listen to her. She was stuck. If she told him that Sylvanas didn't want him to leave the room, it would make him distrust her queen. If she told him that it would be dangerous for a human on the streets of Orgrimmar, it would only strengthen his belief, that the horde were nothing but a bunch of thugs. She stepped back when his eyes began to glow blue.
"I'm leaving", was all he said.
Tameriel reached out to him, "Please, just..."
"What is going on here?" Sylvanas stepped inside and shut the door behind her.
Tameriel started to answer the warchief, but Matt intervened. "I was just telling Tameriel that I was feeling good, more like myself, so I was going outside to get some fresh air."
Sylvanas never took her eyes off him. "Tameriel, leave us!"
The dark ranger quickly exited the room, leaving the human and the undead elf alone.
Her demeanour changed as soon as Tameriel left.
She smiled warmly. "Surely you must eat first?"
"I just did, thanks. Where are my clothes?", he replied, his eyes still glowing.
Her eyes slowly traveled up and down his body, and still smiling, she leaned in towards him. Her body brushed up against his, as she reached behind, and moved back, holding his clothes in front of her. "Here you are. Of course you can go outside. I'll acompany you."
He began to dress, with Sylvanas never leaving the room.
"You know, I'm not your enemy, Matt. I don't know what the alliance told you, but there are two sides to every story. It would be foolish to believe otherwise", she said.
He pulled on his boots, "I agree. And I'm no fool Sylvanas."
"I don't think that you are either. That's why I believe that you will eventually...see things my way"
Matt stood up, "Okay, let's go."
When Matt entered the streets of Orgrimmar, his heart sank. It wasn't the heat, or the imposing buidings decorated with spikes that set him on edge. It was the sheer size of the place. It's not going to be easy to escape, he thought. It was indeed a city. A city that was bustling with residents. He had never seen so many orcs, trolls, and forsaken in one place, since he had arrived on Azeroth. He also noticed quite a few blood elves and tauren here and there. The only thing they had in common, was the open mouthed stares that he received from all of them. He never felt so out of place before in his life.
"I'll hazard a guess that humans are a rarity in Orgrimmar then", he said through the side of his mouth to Sylvanas, who strode confidently beside him.
"Ones that are alive anyway", she quipped.
"And ones that are in the company of the warchief of the horde, are an even rarer sight, I'll bet."
Her lips curled in a wry smile, "Don't worry champion, you're safe with me. No one would dare touch a hair on your handsome head, as long as you're under my protection."
They passed a large building, and a massive green orc exited, almost running into him. Recognizing Sylvanas immediately, he straightened, "Greetings warchief!" Sylvanas nodded nonchalantly to him and continued walking. The orc gave Matt a disrespectful stare and snorted before continuing on his way. He had been in a bad mood since he woke up in this dust bowl, and that seemed to add fuel to the fire.
He gritted his teeth, "It's not me I'd be worried about, Sylvanas."
Sylvanas, still walking, turned to look at him. Her eyes widened and she snorted laughter. "I don't doubt that for a second. You are, after all, the man who killed over two hundred of my troops in an instant."
This only seemed to piss him off more. "Do you think that this is a fucking joke?"
She stopped in her tracks, and stared at him, her eyes burning, and her own face now creased with anger. "Believe me when I say, there isn't much in this world that I can find humour in anymore", she hissed.
"Hmmm, so this is the real Sylvanas Windrunner that I heard so much about. It's a pleasure to meet you", he replied mockingly.
Sylvanas cursed herself internally. How could she have faltered so quickly? She wasn't used to anyone talking to her like that, but she had lost her temper too easily. "This anger...hatred...is indeed something that all forsaken must deal with. I won't deny that, but it's just one part of me. Is anyone all good or all bad? We are all a sum of our experiences, are we not? I may not know you champion, but don't presume to know ME."
He stared at her for a long time, until finally a wry smile of his own appeared. "Then let's make a deal Sylvanas. We'll both agree that we don't know much about each other, not really. So from this point onwards, no bullshit, no outright lies. If you really do want me to see things from your perspective, then don't treat me like an idiot. Don't fuck with me, and I won't fuck with you. I think that's a decent place to start. Sound good?"
Now it was her turn for a moment of pause. "You know if anyone else spoke to me like you just did, their head would be sitting on a pike within the hour." She paused, "You asked for honesty."
"I did, and considering that my head is still attached, I'm assuming that I've received the warchief's pardon", he replied with a cheeky smile.
"For now", she said, not quite hiding a smile of her own, and continued to walk. "By the way, you have quite a mouth on you. You curse like a sailor. Do you not remember that you're in the company of a lady?"
Joining her again, he answered, "I wasn't aware that you were so fragile, my lady. You see, we're learning things about each other already."
"So, what are your first impressions of the city? A little different than Stormwind, I'd imagine."
"It's...certainly something. I've seen more welcoming looking places."
"Yes, well the horde is still heavily influenced by it's orcish roots. The city compliments those roots, but I'll admit that it's aesthetics are not something that most humans or elves would admire. It does however, suit it's function."
"To scare and intimidate anyone who doesn't belong to the horde", he scanned the buildings surrounding him, "I'd say the architect deserves an award. He nailed it."
Sylvanas laughed despite herself.
"I thought the warchief didn't find humour in much anymore"
"There isn't much occasion to laugh as warchief, nor as a forsaken, but it doesn't mean that I can't. Truthfully, I can barely remember...", she trailed off, and kept walking.
"That sounds lonely"
She didn't reply. He wasn't sure, but for a moment, a look of sadness crossed her features.
"Maybe you could hire a jester?", he joked, shrugging his shoulders.
She snorted laughter, "Yes, the orcs would love that, he'd be dead in a week."
"Oh, that's twice now, I thought we said no lies, lady Sylvanas", he said, teasing her.
She looked away, "Don't get used to it. We should go back."
A troll and a forsaken stumbled out of one of the buildings, and Matt could hear a boisterous atmosphere inside. They were clearly drunk.
His eyes lit up. "Wait a second, is that an inn?", he asked.
"It is...why?", her eyebrow cocked.
"Forsaken can get drunk? I didn't think that would be possible. Let's go in, I'd kill for a drink."
Sylvanas sighed moodily, "That wouldn't be a good idea."
"Why not, come on, just one or two drinks. I thought you wanted me to feel comfortable here."
"And as soon as the warchief enters, everyone will be on edge."
"I didn't think you'd care what anyone else thinks", he mocked her.
"I don't, but the morale of the horde is important."
"Fine, well, you go ahead back, and I'll go in for a few drinks", he said, digging his heels in.
She grabbed his arm. "Don't test me champion, we're going back together", she snarled.
He pulled his arm out of her grasp. "Well, your mood changes like the wind doesn't it. I'm not a child Sylvanas, and I'm not asking your permission. I'm going in whether you're coming or not." His eyes crackled with arcane energy.
Her own red eyes seared with annoyance. To anyone watching, it looked like they were having a staring contest outside the inn.
"Hmmph...FINE", she growled and walked in ahead of him.
Matt smiled in victory and followed her in. Sylvanas wasn't lying. As soon as they stepped inside, the rowdy atmosphere slowly settled down and became a series of low murmurs and mumbles, when they realized that the warchief was among them. Almost everyone greeted her, but it was clear that they either feared her, or were uncomfortable that she was there. His own appearance didn't help matters.
Sylvanas ordered a drink for both herself and Matt, and raised hers in the air. "The warchief is just one more member of the horde tonight. Drink and revel in the victories to come. For The Horde!"
"FOR THE HORDE!", the inn erupted and the atmosphere went back to normal almost immediately.
Sylvanas ordered the barkeep to give everyone a round of free drinks, which seemed to go down extremely well with the clientele, and she took Matt over to a more private booth in the corner.
He took a gulp of the ale, and it tasted like sweet nectar, horde ale or not. "You're leadership skills are plain to see, very smooth", he complimented her.
"You didn't give me much choice now, did you. I hope you aren't going to be this hard headed all the time", she retorted.
"Look, I know that moody seems to be your default mode, but we're having a drink to relax. I thought we were going to get to know each other. Try...y'know...to have a little fun." He knew he was pushing his luck, but he didn't want to have a conversation with fake Sylvanas. Pushing her buttons seemed to be working so far.
She looked incensed. "Are you trying to anger me? If you are, it's working, but I wouldn't advise it."
"You're right...I'm sorry. But there really is nothing wrong with trying to relax is there? After all, according to you, we're not enemies, are we?"
She seemed to simmer down. "No, as I keep telling you, I'm not your enemy. In fact, we should be working together, you and I." She took another drink of whatever it was that she was drinking.
"Is that regular alcohol?", he asked.
"It's a special brew for forsaken. It has more of a...kick." He looked interested. A sly smile appeared on her lips, "Would you like to try some?"
His eyes lit up. "Definitely! I wasn't going to brag, but I'm a bit of an alcohol aficionado". She passed him her glass and he took a large swig, then very slowly slid it back to her. It literally felt like his throat was burning. "Its...", a dry rasp escaped his mouth, "...nice." He took a another large gulp from his ale, "if you like swallowing liquid fire, that is."
Sylvanas laughed out loud, but quickly surpressed it, remembering where she was.
"That's three", he said, smiling. "How can you drink that?"
"Some of our senses are dulled, limited, and alcohol like this, allows us to experience a similar effect to what the living gets."
"So why do you think that we should be working together?", he asked.
She leaned towards him. "You were there too. When first we met, how did you feel?"
He remembered thinking that she was beautiful, but he wasn't going to tell her that. He still never forgot the strange feeling he had around her, like they were connected somehow. In truth, he still felt it even now, even though he was tring to ignore it. There was something about this woman, something deep down that he maybe even feared. As if his own power was drawn to her, and a darker power would emerge. He needed to be very careful. He directed the question back at her, "How did you feel?"
"Hmm...you won't admit it then", she rolled her eyes, "Fine. It was like I was drawn to you, and you to me. You were brought to this world for a reason. Have you considered that the reason may have been for us to meet?"
"For what purpose? I don't know why I'm here, but I DO believe that I have a choice. Why should I choose to join you?", he replied
"Why shouldn't you?", she countered.
Matt finished his drink, and slammed the glass on the table. "Teldrassil!"
Sylvanas flinched, almost imperceptibly, but this was enough to enrage her. "What about it?", she snapped, "That's war. What would you know about the intricacies of politics or war on Azeroth? NOTHING!"
It was him leaning forward now, speaking through gritted teeth, "I know that it's fucking bullshit to call burning innocent civillians alive, WAR! I don't care what planet you're from, that's just pure brutality. And you know what Sylvanas, I don't think you would be so pissed off, if you didn't realize that youself."
"I was PUSHED to it. A statement needed to be made, and...I made it! Only fools look back and regret."
He snorted in derision, "I don't think that there's anyone alive OR dead that has never looked back and regretted...at least once. I doubt that you're an exception."
She finished her drink, turned to the side, and gestured to the barkeep for another round. She turned back to him, "It sounds like you have your own regrets."
A pang of grief hit him and he looked away. "As I said, we all do. I'm no exception either."
Their drinks arrived and both undead elf and human drank in silence. Sylvanas was the first to speak. "What do you regret?", she asked with a genuine tone he had not witnessed thus far.
Matt took another drink of his ale, and staring at the table in front of him, he took a moment, as if he needed to prepare himself. At first Sylvanas thought that he was just going to ignore her, but then, he began to talk.
"My father was murdered...back home...on Earth."
"I'm...sorry", Sylvanas replied.
He took another drink. "He was stabbed to death. He died right in front of me, and there was nothing I could do. How could I not regret that?"
The sadness in his eyes affected even her. "Most of my family and friends were killed by war, or by the scourge, led by that bastard Arthas. There was also nothing I could do. I couldn't even stop him from...", she stopped suddenly as if she had been burnt.
Matt internally facepalmed. How could he have forgotten what was done to her?
"Sylvanas, I'm sorry. I...heard what happened to you. It was horrible. I'm sorry I dragged it up."
It was the first time that he had witnessed even a hint of vulnerability in her. "A tragedy is a tragedy. Yours is no less than anyone elses", she said somberly.
Matt sat back, half laughing and half sighing. "I don't think I've ever had such a strange drinking buddy. I can say one thing for you Sylvanas, you're not a boring woman!"
She finished her second drink and smirked. "You're no simpering fool yourself. There aren't many who would dare talk to me as you do. None who would survive the night, by any means. It is...refreshing."
He drained his second ale. "Well, we're just getting started. Besides, how could I pass up the opportunity to witness the great Lady Sylvanas Windrunner, Warchief of the Horde, get drunk? I can't miss that."
"You'll be waiting a long time", she replied with a smirk, as she gestured for a third round.
"Well, the night is young. I'm going to use the restroom, I'll be back in a minute."
Sylvanas looked concerned. "It's straight ahead, to the left. Drunken horde warriors can be dangerous. Some of them might not know that you're under my protection. Maybe I should go with you."
"No thanks, mom", he snorted laughter. She looked unimpressed. "Like I said before, I can take care of myself." He stood up and stepped out of the booth.
Sylvanas took the opportunity to appraise her efforts so far, and found that she was disgusted with herself. Her plan was effectively out the window. Her attempts at mind manipulation had clearly not worked thus far, which vexxed her greatly. He had thwarted her at every turn. What the hell was wrong with her? He had caused her to lose her temper frequently, and had questioned her more than anyone around her had ever done, without consequences. Even Nathanos, the person closest to her, paid her the utmost respect. And yet...she hadn't felt like putting an arrow through his head yet, even when he enraged her. He even made her laugh with his stupid jokes. When was the last time she had a conversation with someone around her, that hadn't treated her as a warchief, as a queen...as a goddess? It was a rare experience for her, and one that she found, was not entirely unwelcome. She took another drink, and pondered on her dilemma.
Matt, on the other hand, had thankfully found the restroom, and was currently pushing his way through orcs and trolls to get back to the booth. A group of orcs stared at him like they wanted to take his head off. One of them nudged one of his friends and pointed at him, saying something loud in a language he assumed was orcish, and they all laughed. The one that nudged his friend, spoke loudly in common, so that everybody in his radius could hear. "I think you're lost, human. Kul Tiras is that way", his green finger pointing. Everyone started laughing.
Great, here we go! "Good one!", Matt smirked and tried to continue walking, but the same orc stood in his way.
"You're in my way, orc", he said calmly, trying to hide his anger. A chorus of laughs echoed throughout the inn. The orc wasn't very happy that his intimidation tactic didn't work.
"Puny human scum!", the orc growled.
"Ugly orc prick!", Matt growled back, his eyes beginning to glow.
The inn's customers yelped in laughter, which only enraged the orc even more.
"MAK'GORA", the orc roared, and every single person in the inn stood up and started cheering at once.
Matt clearly looked confused, and a male blood elf walked up to him. "He has challenged you to armed combat, human. I hope you know what you are doing."
OHHH FUUUCCKKK!, he thought. He cleared his throat, "Of course I do."
The orc looked at him with a sneer, "To the death!" The cheering got even louder.
His eyes glowed even brighter, "Fine with me."
"No spells, just hand to hand combat!", a melodious but commanding voice cut through the crowd, as Sylvanas stood with her arms folded. The inn went quiet. "If the human were to use magic on you Orgoth, you wouldn't last a second." Mumbles of interest rumbled through the inn, and they all looked at him with renewed interest.
"And besides, I'm interested to see this...savagery, in your combat skills that I have heard so much about, for myself", she continued.
The orc snorted, "I'll crush him, Warchief."
"We'll see about that Orgoth. The human, Matt, and the orc, Orgoth, outside, now!", she replied, and the entire inn emptied to the street outside, the excitement and bloodlust palpable.
Sylvanas walked up to him. "I knew you couldn't go there and come back without getting yourself into trouble. What am I going to do with you?"
"Sorry mom!", he smirked, trying to hide his nerves.
"Don't disappoint me, Matthew", she said, and gestured to follow her, as they both stepped into the street.
The crowd had already formed a circle, and Orgoth was standing in the centre, bare chested, and clutching a massive two handed hammer. Matt assumed he was supposed to do the same, and taking his tunic off, he stood to face the orc. The same blood elf that had told him what a Mak'gora was, came over to him and offered him a sword.
"Thanks", he said.
"Best of luck, human", the elf nodded, and stepped back into the crowd.
Matt could feel the dark energy pumping through his veins, and his muscles screamed to be let loose. His bloodlust and rage were at boiling point, and he struggled to contain it. He could hear the hilt of his sword creak as he gripped it. This is why I fear this power, I'm worried that one day I won't be able to control mysef, he thought. His head began to pound as his ferocity began to build, and Sylvanas went over the rules, mostly for Matt's sake.
"...weapon is dropped, it cannot be retrieved", she finished, but Matt was barely listening. His muscles tensed, and when the duel began, both orc and human leapt at each other.
Orgoth brought his hammer down with incredible speed and power, and Matt, gripping the sword in both of his hands, met the blow mid way, deflecting the hammer to the left, and into the ground. Dust exploded into the evening air. The sound of the clashing metal echoed loudly through the streets, and sparks flew from the blow. Both opponents reacted quickly. The orc's speed, belied his size, as he swung the hammer almost instantly to the right. Matt stood his ground, and slamming his sword into the dirt, stopped the forward momentum of the heavier weapon. The orc's massive arms shuddered with the shock, and the human attacked quickly. He rolled to the left. Pulling the sword from the ground and swinging forward in a powerful arc, he took off Orgoth's hand at the wrist. The hammer fell to the ground, with the hand still attached, and the orc roared in pain and fury. Thick streams of blood spurted from the wound, and Matt walked calmly around his opponent, his sword, now in one hand, held downwards. Most of the audience were stunned into silence. It wasn't the result that they were expecting. The orc began to charge him, until Sylvanas shouted, "Enough!"
Orgoth looked stunned, "What are you doing Warchief?", he growled.
"You are too fine a warrior to lose, Orgoth. Get healed up now, and you might be able to save your hand. Besides, I think the human has made his point, don't you?", she answered with her usual, cold, steely voice.
Some members of the audience started to chuckle, and Orgoth, drunk, embarrassed, and missing a hand, completely lost it. "How dare you try to shame me. You spit on the honor of the Mak'gora, and you spit on me, you undead, she-elf bitch." The crowd became instantly silent. You could hear a pin drop. Orgoth screamed a warcry and charged towards the human.
Matt ran to meet him, and when the orc threw his good arm at him, he ducked, and drove the sword through his chest. Orgoth stumbled backwards, as Matt pulled the sword back out, and threw it to the ground. Blood splattered the dirt. Orgoth managed to grab Matt, and as he fell to the ground on his back, the human landed kneeling on his chest. The orc began to roar with fury, trying to beat him with his fist, but Matt's own fury had reached breaking point. He grabbed the large tusks, one in each hand, and with all his strength, snapped both of them off in a fit of rage. Orgoth howled in agony, but it didn't last long. Matt slammed both tusks into the eyes of the orc and lodged them deep into his brain. The screams stopped immediately. He stood up, and most of the audience began to cheer him. Some even clapped him on the back, including orcs. Others tended to Orgoth's body and looked at him with pure hatred, but for the most part, this unwanted duel seemed to have gained him some much needed respect. Considering that he was stuck in Orgrimmar for the forseeable future, that could only work to his advantage.
The blood elf that gave him the sword came over and clapped him on the back. "Well done...Matt, was it? You surprised us all. Orgoth might have been a spiteful bastard, but he was no grunt. It looked like you could have finished him right away, and that was without using your magic?"
"I guess I got lucky, thanks again for the help...em...?"
"I'm Tarron Starbane. Next time you're here, come over for a chat. You're the first interesting person to arrive here in a while. If you're interested in some civil conversation, myself and my friends there, are here almost every night", he pointed to a small group of blood elves, male and female, who nodded to him with respect. "Not an awful lot else to do here, when we're not on the front lines."
Matt took his hand and shook it. "Thanks Tarron. I'll keep it in mind." The crowd began to go back inside the inn, and Sylvanas came over to him, taking his arm.
"Let's go, now", she said, with a strange look on her face. He couldn't quite discern what it was, but he suddenly felt like he didn't want to argue.
The travel back to Sylvanas's private quarters was quick. Not a word was spoken between them, which for some reason didn't feel weird. He still felt strange internally though, not quite on edge, but a feral energy still lurked within him. He could feel it, as if it was a strange drug that he couldn't come down from. He felt like he could fight again and again, and he revelled in the thought.
When they entered her room, Sylvanas pushed him up against the wall, and shoved her tongue down his throat. He was taken by surprise, and found himself kissing her back. She pulled back a little and bit his lip, smiling like a predator. He wasn't aware that his eyes had turned black as tar, but the still pulsing, dark energy that remained inside him, found a new target. It was as if he had tunnel vision for her, and her alone. He lifted her by the waist and swinging her around, pushed her back into the wall, kissing her vigorously. His hands began roving around her body, and found himself frustrated by her armor.
Sylvanas's hands pushed against his chest, and he stepped back a little. She took a step towards him and tearing open his tunic, pushed him backwards onto the bed. His blood was pounding in his body as he stared at the beautiful dark lady in front of him. Her figure was bathed in both shadow and light, and she began unstrapping her armor, piece by piece, until nothing remained. Her naked body, undead or not, was a work of art. She slowly, artfully, moved towards the bed, her hips swaying in erotic motion. Matt tore off his tunic just before she straddled him, laying her cold hands on his bare chest, her long nails digging ever so slightly into his flesh.
Her piercing eyes locked onto his. "I could just devour you", she purred, her voice both haunting and impassioned.
Matt sat up, Sylvanas still straddling him, and kissed her passionately. She pressed her body against his, and dug her nails into his back, drawing blood. In his present state, he barely registered the pain, as his hands moved down to her lower back and grabbed her ass. She gasped, as his carnal desire became evident, and her hand began to trail down his abdomen, beyond his waistband. She wrapped her legs around his waist, as he lifted her up, laying her down on her back.
He could barely contain his animalistic urges, kissing her smooth thighs, caressing her perfect breasts, as Sylvanas threw her head back and moaned, bewitching him. This triggered a foggy memory...Valeera... He stopped for a moment, confused.
Sylvanas snatched his hand and placed it on her naked breast, "Look at me!", she commanded. His black eyes met her blazing red ones. His confusion seemed to disappear. He thought that he'd remembered something important, but it seemed so far away now. The only thing that mattered was the woman lying in front of him, the perfect vision of dark beauty. And he yearned for her, as much as she did for him. She bit her lower lip seductively, and said something in thalassian, repeating it in common, "Fuck me."
The rest of the night was a blur of impassioned sex. Their dark chemistry was apparent, as Sylvanas, in between periods of ecstasy, noticed that his eyes remained black the entire time. Hours passed, and time melted away.
Matt awoke the next morning, not remembering having fallen asleep. He was alone in Sylvanas's room. He bolted upright, Sylvanas...last night...we... Did it really happen? He asked the pointless question, knowing the answer. How could I have done that to Valeera? It's not like me to do something like that. What happened? He knew that Valeera was probably worried sick about him, and if what Sylvanas said was true, then she was probably wracked with guilt about leaving him. He knew in his heart that she wouldn't have left him unless it was a life or death scenario, and he didn't judge her for it. So how could he have slept with Sylvanas? He knew that he would never betray Valeera, but yet, he had. He was so confused. His guilt was only made worse when his memories of the night returned, and so did his desire for the dark lady. He put his head in his hands, "I'm such a piece of garbage!"
Somewhere On Azeroth
Two figures converged at the top of a mountain. To most eyes, it would look like a strange meeting place for two elven, but not quite elven, figures to meet . Nevertheless, they both seem quite comfortable here, regardless of the fact that one wrong step would send any mortal tumbling to their death.
"It is strange to see you so disturbed", the female said, her fiery red hair flowing behind her in the wind.
"And you're not?", the male inquired, surprised.
"It seems that we have seen different things then."
"Many of us have observed the same dream."
"And yet, each have perceived something different. What is it that concerns you more?", she asked.
"In my dream, a being of light, a human, but not of our world, is corrupted. What he brings with him is something akin to a cataclysm. Azeroth is in great danger. That is what most concerns me."
She turned to him with a gentle smile, "And in my dream, he fights against his corruption. He toils and never gives up, even through trials and suffering. In the end, Azeroth embaces him as a mother would her child."
"You always see the good in all, but what if you're wrong?"
"What if I am right?"
"I think it's time that we act. I have had word of his arrival, as have you, I'm sure."
"I have, Kalecgos. It seems that our new human friend has found himself in quite a lot of bother already, but he has still only tapped into a fragment of his true power." Her kind features brightened, "But I would like to meet him, perhaps it is time."
Kalecgos moved to distance himself from her, and began to change into his true form. The colossal blue dragon stretched his wings. "I hope you're right, and he is a friend, Alexstrasza. Because if you're wrong, it could mean the destruction of all." He leaped into the sky, and flew off, leaving the mountain behind him.
Alexstrasza, still standing on the cliff edge, watched him slowly disappear into the horizon. "As long he stays true to himself, life, and hope will always prevail." The red dragonqueen changed into her gargantuan form. Beating her wings, she rose quickly and flew off in the opposite direction, speaking to herself, "Although, a little guidance could prove fruitful."