Orgrimmar! Cenahria could hardly believe her ears when Thrall had invited her to join Vol'jin in the Horde city for a few days. Immediately, she had gone to pack. Now, three days later, she was riding on the back of a wind rider, flying above Durotar towards the citadel. Cenahria looked at her surroundings; Durotar was a harsh land, sand stretching as far as she could see. Trees dotted the landscape, but they were sparse. She sighed at the desolation, and remembered her own home. There was no shortage of trees in Teldrassil. Small villages appeared below her, here and there. She could just make out trolls, orcs and tauren milling around, going about their lives. Each time one appeared, her heart jumped. Vol'jin had promised her a trip to one of them, to meet more of his people.
Vol'jin. He was flying just ahead of her, and Cenahria turned to watch him. She couldn't make out whether he was happy to have her with him. One moment, he would be laughing, making plans with her, the next he was asking Zaria whether she felt Cenahria could hold her own in a duel! She shuddered; she did not wish to use her abilities to harm others. Which brought her mind to the one thing that crept up her spine. She was a Night Elf. By race, Alliance. Entering the very heart of Horde territory was either incredibly brave, or incredibly stupid. Cenahria was concerned, not for her safety, but for Vol'jin and for Thrall. The orc had reassured her that all measures were being taken to ensure her arrival was expected, and that no one would try to hurt her, that the Horde would not risk war with the Alliance over her being harmed. But that did not mean someone might not try to hurt either the troll or the orc, by association.
"Cenahria!" Troubles melting away, she smiled as Vol'jin turned to face her, pointing ahead. She had spotted it too – the great gates of Orgrimmar loomed ahead. The crimson and black of the horde sigil dominated the towers, and a steady trickle of civilians moved through the chasm they were now flying through. The horde city looked huge, with massive walls and sentries milling in the towers. A large rock jutted out from the side – the city had been built inside what appeared to be a cocoon of small mountains. The beasts flew over the sentries, and came to land by a green-skinned flight master, who swiftly took the reins.
"Vol'jin. It is good to see you, friend." A larger orc, also green-skinned, greeted the troll warmly, and turned his attention to her quickly. "And this must be Cenahria! Welcome to our city." He offered her his hand, and she took it, overwhelmed by the sheer size of this creature. She had heard great tales of the orcs, but had never seen one up close. Thrall's touch was gentle, however, and his smile friendly. She smiled back, and allowed herself to relax slightly.
"Thrall. It be good to be back. Which inn we be stayin' in? Don't ya be puttin' me in the same one as last time – I have no patience for da goblins." Cenahria smiled slightly, as Vol'jin's voice oozed disgust. "Yes, yes I remember that particular altercation. It took several days to rebuild that inn." Thrall laughed as Cenahria quietly repeated what he had said to herself. Rebuild the inn? What in Elune had Vol'jin done? "I thought it would be better if you both stayed with me. That way Cenahria can be made to feel a little more secure." She smiled appreciatively, and Thrall nodded. "Secure? Ya told me dat ya spoke to da Horde. Dey know she comin'. Dey know not to attack." Vol'jin immediately began eying the flight master with distrust, and the orc swiftly walked away. Cenahria placed a hand on Vol'jin's arm. "Vol'jin, relax! I trust Thrall, and I trust you. I must admit I was scared but. I feel safe. For now, at least. Everything is so big!" They both laughed, and she followed as they made their way to the main part of the city.
After a brief tour, Thrall led them both to a small but cosy inn, in what Thrall called the Valley of Strength. He had briefly mentioned a Cleft of Shadows, which sounded very intriguing, but her stomach had begun to rumble, and Vol'jin had immediately suggested they find food. Eager to taste what Orgrimmar had to offer, she had quickly followed them. The Inn was called The Broken Tusk, and had several, friendly looking Tauren behind the bar. Gryshka, the Innkeeper, was a lovely Tauren, who stated as soon as they walked in that Cenahria was "very skinny! Horde need to be big and strong, like Tauren. I will have food cooked immediately!". Considering how she was at least half the size of most of the Horde, Cenahria took no offense to this, and sat opposite Vol'jin at a table. She listened as Thrall and Vol'jin reminisced, mainly about various 'brawls' that they had participated in, and an elderly Tauren seated at the bar joined in enthusiastically. The brawls mainly seemed to be against goblins. After some time, Gryshka brought a large bowl of what appeared to be a stew to the table, as well as food for Thrall and Vol'jin. "Jungle Stew! Dat will make ya big enough for da horde for sure!" Vol'jin grinned at her, and Thrall rolled his eyes. It smelled delicious, with just a hint of apple. Tasting it, Cenahria immediately smiled too. It tasted fantastic, and two bowls and half a hunk of bread later, she had surprised not only the Innkeeper, but everyone else in the Inn too at her ability to eat her own body weight in food. Grinning, Cenahria settled back and closed her eyes.
After Thrall and Vol'jin had finished their meals, talk had turned to Horde matters. Cenahria stayed silent. Vol'jin did not outright say so, but his hot tone showed his disagreement in Thrall's decision to appoint Garrosh Warchief. Many of the stories Cenahria had heard about orcs had mentioned this Garrosh, particularly the violent ones. She was hoping Thrall would ask her to stay in the Inn during the meeting between Garrosh and the various leaders, including Vol'jin. She genuinely enjoyed being in Orgrimmar, but meeting Garrosh terrified her. She was reluctant to say so, however. Vol'jin's mood had deteriorated rapidly as the conversation had turned to the new Chief, and the smallest thing could have him sending her back to the Echo Isles for her own safety.
The sun was beginning to set when they finally left The Broken Tusk. Thrall and Vol'jin had gone back to reminiscing, this time about adventures away from Orgrimmar, when a loud, deep roar reverberated around the Valley. Vol'jin immediately stepped in front of Cenahria, as a large, brown-skinned orc stepped out of a building in the very centre of the Valley. Thrall went to meet him, as the orc had begun moving towards them, eyes narrowed, and Vol'jin did not move a muscle. "If I tell ya to run, ya run to da wind riders, ya get on one, and ya take off. D'ya understand?" Fear had taken over, and Cenahria barely managed a whispered yes back. Thrall was desperately trying to stop the orc from getting any closer, and eventually resigned himself to walking beside him, talking all the while. The orc, who had darker tattoos on his body, roughly shoved Vol'jin aside, and studied her.
"Garrosh. This is Cenahria. She is the elf we discussed last week, if you remember. She has joined Vol'jin's Darkspear on the Echo Isles. I invited her here, to show her the hospitality of the Horde. Cenahria, this is Garrosh Hellscream, Warchief of the Horde." Cenahria looked up into deep, burning eyes. The hatred there made her want to scream, but she was rooted in place. "Garrosh. It is nice to finally meet you. Congratulations on being made Warchief. That must be quite the honor." Surprised by how calm her voice was, Cenahria held out a hand, maintaining eye contact with the Chief. Vol'jin stood close to Thrall, eyes flicking between them. For the first time, she noticed his glaive, strapped to his back. One hand seemed dangerously close to the glaive's edge. Garrosh, still staring into her eyes with hate, took her hand, and thanked her. Cenahria gasped as Garrosh tightened his grip, and yanked her forward, into the fading light of the sun.
"Let's get you into the sun, elf. Let us look at you, shall we? Inspect our… newest member." Garrosh's voice was deeper than Thrall's, and was harsh, not unlike Durotar's landscape. Several orcs and Taurens had gathered now, and Thrall had placed a hand over Vol'jin's chest when Garrosh had yanked her. The look in Garrosh's eyes was nothing compared to the boiling hate seething in Vol'jin's. Moving his hand to her waist, Garrosh spun her around, slowly, with his other arm outstretched, as if showing her off the crowd. Several orcs who had been with Garrosh when he had first left the building ahead began to stare at her, eyes devouring her. Desperate to get away, Cenahria tugged at Garrosh's arm. "Please. You're hurting me. Please, let me go." A harsh, brutal laugh escaped Garrosh's lips, and he pushed her. Quickly, the crowd became a ring, and Garrosh grinned maliciously. "I am sorry for hurting you, elf. We wouldn't want to bruise that pretty skin now, would we?" Garrosh's stare now became a leer, and Cenahria could feel his eyes, all their eyes, drinking in her small, but well-rounded frame, and she whimpered as Garrosh placed his hand on her waist again. She could not see Thrall anymore, or Vol'jin. "I can see now why the Darkspear have allowed you into their ranks; you must provide hours of entertainment for Vol'jin and his trolls. It must be an honor for you to serve the Horde in this way. The Horde are all about honor." The meaning of Garrosh's words sank into her, and Cenahria couldn't take it anymore. She whimpered again, tears pouring down her cheeks, and ran to the edges of the ring, desperate for a sign of Thrall, of safety. Grabbing her by the waist, Garrosh pulled her close to him, and she cried out.
"Ya get ya filthy hand off Cenahria, Garrosh, else I be removin' it for ya." Quiet malice stung Vol'jin's words, and Garrosh whirled to face him. He dug his fingers into her side, and Cenahria screamed in pain. Vol'jin's face, already shadowed, darkened further. "I be not warnin' ya again." Vol'jin reached behind himself, and the glaive whipped above his head, a faint hum filling the air. Through her tears, Cenahria stared at the troll. This orc could kill him easily. What was he doing? Smiling, Garrosh pushed Cenahria forward, and she tumbled into Vol'jin. "Selfish of you, Vol'jin, keeping such a pretty prize to yourself. There is no honor in it. I will fight you for her." His smile became a grin, as the orc reached for his gigantic axe. Panic rising, Cenahria moved to stop Vol'jin, who had brought down his glaive in a defensive stance. Thick, green arms held her back, and she could faintly hear Thrall's voice through the blood rushing in her ears.
Slowly, orc and troll circled one another…