Before I begin, I would like to say that I have become a fan of the web series Red vs. Blue. And I have decided to create a new story based on both that and Warcraft. So, if you are interested or simply like my work, please check out Alliance vs. Horde. Should be out right now.
Also, since my last update, I found out that the Thrall/ Jaina relationship will never happen. Thrall is now married with Aggra, who I guess is good for him. I, however, will not be changing this story to match this so please don't write reviews telling me what I already know.
Lets rock!
-x-
Ellia awoke the next morning before the sun had risen. She was still tired, but the sounds of construction had kept her half awake and half asleep through most of the night. The Forsaken, it seemed, were expanding their territory into Silverpine Forest. To the young Shaman, it seemed only natural seeming that there had been a decrease in human settlements due to the Worgen and Dalaran had been moved to the roof of the world. And seeing that the Banshee Queen currently ruled over one tiny piece of land, Silverpine Forest had become a delicious treat that could not be passed up.
As she got up she could see the undead paving the road and making a stone railing. There were also several familiar looking wagons which seemed to be hauling large glass flasks filled with a foul looking green liquid. Just looking at them sent a shiver down her spine at what they might contain.
"You're awake," grunted Ravgash. Ellia turned her head and saw that the old Orc was not only awake but had already finished packing his wolf. She also noted that he seemed to be just as tired as she was. Perhaps even more than she was, if that was possible. She then turned her head towards Ravenwrath who was sitting crossed legged and his eyes were closed. Next to him, curled up like a cat, was the baby drake.
"What's with Dar?" she asked. Ravgash just shrugged.
"If I had to guess I'd say he's meditating or something," said the old Orc with a sigh as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. "Must be a druid thing."
"Very true," said Ravenwrath as he opened his eyes. He got up, looking refreshed as though he had slept for several hours. "I was in the Emerald Dream so I could train while my body rested. Simple process really. Spent the whole night there."
"Lucky you," muttered Ellia dryly as she began to pack up her things.
Ravenwrath began to pack his things as well. He had told them the truth; he had spent the whole night in the Dream. With the Nightmare gone, druids could once again enter the Dream without fear of what could happen to them. It used to be simply getting lost or being unwilling to part from the perfection that was the Emerald Dream. But when the Nightmare came, it became distorted and vile, a place where ones soul could become corrupted into a thing of pure evil. Luckily the Nightmare was defeated and druids could once again return to the Emerald Dream.
But Ravenwrath had been doing something other than training there. Once in the Dream, a druid could see the world as it was and how it could be. It could be a paradise where there had never been a sentient race to befoul nature or it could be the way the world was now and the dreamer would be like a ghost. It was the latter that Ravenwrath had chosen and the place he had been was Ironforge. And his target was there alright.
But, unknown to them, a small gnome was watching them. Yes, it seemed the Pookie Wigglebolt had followed our hero's and it wasn't to ask for a pound of sugar. And he wasn't alone, for standing next to him was his Felguard. It was a giant man like demon that was at least ten feet tall dressed in red armor except on his chest. Its skin was a grayish blue color and on its back were three curved spikes. In its right hand was a double bladed axe that looked like it needed to be held with both hands, but it was obvious to anyone who saw the creature that it only needed one.
Pookie looked at the group with greed in his tiny eyes. He was a gnome and they were always thirsty for knowledge. It was what made their race so technologically advanced. And seeing a human druid was something that he needed to study very carefully. Well, until he turned him in at least.
It had taken Pookie awhile to realize that he had seen Ravenwrath before other than were he saw him in the crowd at Brill. It was later, while he was going through his bags as he looked for something to wipe away the fish juice that was on his face, when he found that he had a wanted poster of Ravenwrath. And he was worth one hundred gold coins! All he had to do was bring him in alive and he would be rich.
Greed was not the only thing motivating the gnome, far from it. He wanted to make a name for himself. His father had been a simple blacksmith who had a talent for making weapons. In fact, they were remarkably good weapons. Sadly, his father was not as talented when it came to names: 'The Pony Dagger', 'Special Rainbow Lover Sword', 'I Love You Axe', and many more like them. No one would ever wield weapons with such embarrassing names. No one! And to make it worse, his father had named him and thus cursed him with such an embarrassing name. Everywhere he went, people laughed when they heard his name. No matter how powerful he was as a warlock, he would always been seen as a joke.
But now there was a way out of it. If he captured Ravenwrath, then people would begin to overlook his name and see him as a force to be reckoned with. He would earn a place for himself in the history scrolls and be remembered for all time. They might even make a song about him.
Unable to contain his joy, Pookie raced over to where he had hidden his mount, a large Black War Mammoth. Pookie had trouble getting up and quickly ordered his Felguard to assist. The Felguard, who wanted nothing more than to cut down his summoner, was forced to do so.
Soon his day would come.
-x-
Rhonin stood in the Temple of the Moon as he waited for Tyrande to arrive. When he had arrived he had been met by two priestesses who guided him into a long hallway in the back of the temple and asked him to wait there. He was told the Tyrande would be there shortly after she finished talking to an Orc ambassador. So Rhonin was left to stand alone and, as some might see it, out of the way. Rhonin knew better though. This was the Temple of the Moon which served not only as the center for the Night Elf politics but their faith as well. Humans had a different religious background and few believed in Elune so it was not really surprising that the priestess wanted him out of sight.
While he was waiting, Rhonin decided to look at the paintings on the marble walls. The first one depicted Azshara, the mad queen of the Night Elves. The painting depicted her staring at herself in the mirror. Her beauty was captivating and she was drawn elegantly. However, the rest of the painting showed her subjects being slaughter by demons. Felguards were beheading the common folk while Felbeasts were draining mages of their mana leaving behind withered husks. Infernos rained from the sky, destroying building and crushing people.
Next to it was a painting of Kur'talos Ravencrest, the Night Elf noble and general who launched the first counter attack against the demons. In the painting he was on his night saber mount, covered with the blood of demons as he fought with the host. Rhonin also noted that Lord Stareye, the successor to the host after Ravencrest was murdered, was in the painting as well. He was in the back looking lost, useless, and clean. Overall, Rhonin thought that the painter did an excellent job with both of them.
Next came the painting of the Night left who led them to their final victory after Stareye was killed, Jarod Shadowsong. The painting showed Jarod covered in divine moonlight as he charged towards the demons while leading the ancient guardians of their world against Archimonde. Rhonin paused as he stared at this painting, remembering when he first met the young Night Elf. He always felt that he was unworthy of being charged with anything important, most likely brought on due to his sister. But the lad had what most of his people's leaders lacked at the time: common sense.
Then came another painting that caused Rhonin to pause, the Orc Brox. Brox had fought with the Night Elves during the War of the Ancients and, in the end, gave his life to buy them the precious seconds they needed to begin closing the portal. The painting showed the old Orc, holding on to his magical wooden axe as he stood upon a pile of demon corpses as Sargeras readied to attack him.
"I see you like that one," said a female voice behind him. Slowly Rhonin turned around and gave Tyrande a half smile.
"I believe it is accurate," said Rhonin. "However, I believe Brox would be complaining that he killed more demons that that!" As Tyrande let out a small chuckle, Rhonin noticed that two others were in the room. The first, and most obvious, was Malfurion. He had changed greatly since that day they had first met some ten thousand years ago. Sticking out from his long green hair was a pair of antlers and along his arms were feathers. He stood taller that Tyrande by a head and was clad in simple leathers. The other figure in the room, dressed in plate armor, was Shandris Feathermoon. She was the general of the Sentinel Army as well as one of Tyrande's most dedicated defenders.
"My priestesses told me you had urgent news," said Tyrande as she got right down to business.
"And that it involves the Western Plaguelands," added Malfurion.
"Yes," replied the mage with a nod. "I spoke to Krasus about Ravenwrath and the possibility that we might be dealing with something… darker. He was agreed to leave the Wyrmrest Temple, for the time being, to conduct an investigation."
"And he found something already?" said a surprised Malfurion. He, like Tyrande, knew who and what Krasus really was. "That was fast."
"Actually, he hasn't gotten to the site yet," said Rhonin. "He contacted me shortly after he entered the Western Plaguelands and he told me that it seems to be healing." Both the rulers of the Night Elves took a step back. Both the priesthood and the druids had tried to heal that land for years and nothing had seemed to work. "Krasus managed to find the epicenter of this healing and began to inspect it. Whatever did this, he told me, has the power to find an abnormality in nature, eliminate it, and then restores it while creating a sort of immunity against what caused that abnormality. He also told me that this is a type of power that the Titans used."
"Do you think they have returned?" asked Tyrande. Rhonin shook his head.
"Not unless they also killed a handful of Scarlet's," he said.
"Then it must have been the work of Ravenwrath," said Shandris.
"So it would seem," said Rhonin as he looked at the Night Elf general. "Have you found anything about this human?"
"As soon as I heard about him I began to check my network," said Shandris with a hint of pride in her voice. Shandris had spies everywhere reporting to her about the movements of enemies and allies alike. "I haven't heard anything about the condition of the land yet, but I do know that we weren't given the full story about this Ravenwrath person. Seems he targeted someone in particular."
"Could it have been Lord Westron's contact?" asked Malfurion.
"It is possible," said Shandris. "After hearing about this, I decided to check with my network about any humans with similar abilities going back twenty years. According to my contact in the Barrens, seven years ago a large group of slaves escaped the Druids of the Fang. The one who led the breakout was a human who somewhat matches the description that was given to us. After I found that out, I managed to track down one of the freed slaves. He is a Night Elf currently living in Winterspring. I plan on starveling there and conducting an interview."
"As always, your network amazes me," said Tyrande with a warm smile. Shandris smiled back, but then seemed to look nervous. Tyrande, who had known Shandris since she was a child, noticed this right away. "Is something wrong?
"Maybe," she said. "Tanaris has gone dark. None of my agents there have reported back in the last several months. I sent soldiers to check on them at their homes in Gadgetzan, but the place is like a ghost town."
"Could this be the work of the Sand Trolls?" asked Malfurion. Shandris shook her head.
"My soldiers managed to convince some of the Goblins who were still there to talk," she said. "They said that dark flying creatures have been grabbing people at night. My soldiers thought it might be the work of the Sand Trolls as well, but they seem to have walled themselves up in their city. I doubt there is a connection but…" Shandris went silent for a moment, afraid to say what was on her mind.
"You suspect Lord Westron," said Rhonin. "Several months ago he set up a base there and then everything goes quiet. Ravenwrath might have once been employed by him or something. Or he could have nothing to do with him at all."
"Whatever the cause is, we need more proof before we can accuse a noble," said Tyrande. "Shandris, go and find out whatever you can about Ravenwrath. Try and find out if that's even his real name if you can. The more you find out the better. The rest of us will be watching Lord Westron closely."
"Very closely," agreed Rhonin.
-x-
"Master HELP!" screamed twelve year old Sarah Lightmire. She had green eyes and blond hair that was braided into pigtails. Her dark blue robes were covered in mud and dirt as she ran from a Withered Bog Lord. The creature was a giant made of dying, brown colored fungus. Parts of its shoulders had glowing lights that seemed to be dimming.
Suddenly its feet were covered in ice and it became stuck to the ground. Then, a human walked over to the creature without a sense of worry. He had wild black hair and a matching thick beard. He was wearing purple robes and in his hand was a staff with a blue crystal at the end. He pointed at the Withered Bog Lord's chest and a second later it was impaled by an ice spear. He then turned to his apprentice and grinned.
"That is why you should not wonder off by yourself," he said.
"Sorry Master Millian," said Sarah as she looked down. All her life, she had been called a failure. She wasn't as pretty as the rest of her friends and she was a wreck in the kitchen. Her parents decided that she might find her calling though education and so sent her to Mage School. Sadly, she quickly found out how hard it was and she constantly made mistakes. She was always asked to stay after the class had ended to receive additional lessons.
Then she met Master Millian, a young Mage from Westfall. He seemed to see something that she knew wasn't inside her. He said she had a gift, a talent. He requested her to be his apprentice and was quickly given approval.
"Now don't worry," said Millian who was still grinning. "Mistakes are part of the learning process. Just try not to make the same mistake again, alright?"
Before Sarah could say anything, a Gnome with white hair appeared before them wearing the symbol of Dalaran on his chest. He quickly walked over to Millian and handed him a letter. He then gave the two of them a salute before vanishing.
"Who is that from?" asked Sarah.
"It's from my old friend Marcus," said Millian with delight. "I haven't heard from him in over a year." With that, Millian happily opened the envelope and began to read the letter. And, as he did so, his smile faded and his hands began to shake.
"Master?"
"It seems…there has been a death," said Millian slowly. "One of my childhood friends, Adros, is dead. Killed by someone calling himself Lord Ravenwrath. And the place he is asking to meet with me, Rachet of all places!"
Millian looked up at the alien sky above him, searching for answers to questions he could not ask aloud. For so long he had tried to put the past behind him. He still had nightmares from the day they left Darwin to his fate. What he had done was horrible and he knew it. But as much as he wanted to do the right thing, his fear of his father was greater. His father had been a harsh man that tolerated very little from his children and always punished harshly. Sometimes he would not stop beating the boys hide until it bleed. He had wanted to help Darwin, he really had. But he was afraid that this time his father would truly kill him. At the time, it seemed like such a good idea. But, now that he was older, he knew what he should have done.
Suddenly a large shadow covered the two. Millian blinked for a moment before he realized what it was: a nether drake! But it wasn't like any nether drake that he had seen before because it was white. Not only was it white, it was also bigger than a normal nether drake. It could probably carry three people with little difficulty. Millian felt Sarah grab his hand and held on to it tight. As the creature landed, Millian saw that one of the riders was an Orc and readied himself to attack. It was a female Orc with shoulder length brown hair. He could see that she had on plate armor showed off her figure. On her back was a polearm that looked like a mixture of a spear and an axe. Also on the nether drake were two other rider who were wearing heavy cloaks.
The Orc dismounted and landed on the muddy ground. She took one step, slipped, and rolled down the Dead Mire all the way to the bottom. Millian just stared. Never had be seen an Orc do anything like that. Slowly the Orc got up and made her way up the Mire using her polearm as support. A minute or two later she was in front of the two looking very embarrassed.
"I can't believe it," they heard her mutter to herself. "I finally find someone and what do I do? Make a fool of myself, that's what! By the Ancestors, could this day be any worse." She then looked at the pair and tried her best to smile. "Excuse me, but could you point me in the direction of Hellfire Peninsula? I seem to be a little lost."
"Ah…it's over there," said a dumbfounded Millian as he pointed east.
"Really?" she asked as she blinked. "That's what I thought, but I guess I was mistaken when I thought there was a lake right here." She then turned around and got back on her mount. As she did she screamed, "For the Horde!" As she took off, Millian and Sarah saw at least a hundred more of these white nether drakes flying through the air. "FOR THE HORDE!" they all cried out tighter so loudly that it was like thunder.
"Master," whispered Sarah. Millian looked down at his student and saw that she was white faced. "Master, I'm scared."
-x-
Sylvanas was alone in her chambers for once. Usually she was surrounded by her undead people or watched closely by that Orc that served as her assistant. But for today, she was alone thanks to their new allies the Nerubians. Sylvanas had sent all able bodies to assist them by bringing their eggs to the balconies of the Undercity so that they would be out of the way and they would be able to hatch in peace.
Normally Sylvanas stood in the center of a large platform so that she was higher than anyone else. But right now she was in the back of her chambers. In one hand was her locket and in the other was a small bow meant to train children in archery. The Banshee Queen looked at it longingly with an expression that she showed no one.
"Pardon me," came an old voice. Sylvanas' eyes widened in fear and she quickly spun around to see old Cairne standing nearby. "Forgive the intrusion. I decided to come early and thought it best that I see you first. Perhaps I have come at a bad time." With that, he turned to leave.
"Wait," said Sylvanas suddenly as she stood up. Cairne paused where he was and slowly turned around so that he could look at her. To him, she looked like she was debating with herself. Then, after a few moments she said. "How is your son?"
"He is well," said Cairne with great pride. "While I attend the Feast, he has volunteered to look after Thunder Bluff. I had asked him to attend it with me, and though he wanted to go he felt it best that he stayed behind and watch after our people."
"It must be nice to be proud of your son," said Sylvanas. "I never got that chance. If mine were still alive, he'd be in his mid-twenties right now." Cairne blinked. Did he hear correctly? Sylvanas, the Banshee Queen of the Forsaken, had a son?
"Do you wish to talk about it?" he asked after the shock wore off.
"Maybe," said Sylvanas. She knew Cairne to be honorable and wise. She trusted him as much as she trusted Thrall. Maybe more since it had been his people who had pushed the Horde into accepting the Forsaken. "Very well, but I want you to promise that nothing I say will be told to another."
"It shall die with me," promised Cairne. Sylvanas nodded, content with his promise.
"It all started many years ago," she began. "I was still Ranger General back then and my people were hunting the Orcs. I had received word that there was a small band of Orcs in Westfall. I and several of my Rangers went out to capture them thinking that it would be an easy mission. However, it turns out that whoever sent that message didn't know how to count and my five Rangers and I found ourselves surrounded by at least twenty Orcs. We fought hard and won, but I had been shot twice in the leg and then knocked out.
"When I awoke, I found myself in a farmhouse being tended to by a local human. You couldn't imagine how I felt. I would be fine in a couple of weeks, but my pride had been wounded far greater. My Rangers, I soon found out, had already left to the next Orc sighting. I was so angry that I took a lot of my anger out on the furniture.
"My host was kind and I guess handsome for a human. But was most interesting was his respect for nature. Unlike most humans who believe that they own the land, he believed that the nature deserved our respect for everything that it gives us and he gave back in return. And, the day before I had to leave, I spent the night in his bed. I thought that would be the last we would see each other. But two weeks later, I realized I was pregnant.
"I returned to his farm to tell him. At first he was shocked, but then he became as overjoyed as I was. You see, High Elves rarely give birth. We began to make many plans while my superiors believed I was taking a much needed vacation. There were few Orcs left running in the wild so I was told to take my time and enjoy myself.
"Then, a month before the baby was due, we had a fight. I couldn't stay in Westfall forever and wanted to raise our child in Silvermoon City. However, the child's father would most likely be forbidden to enter due to him being a human. Back then, the High Elves kept to themselves and rarely allowed anyone else to enter. I could make an appeal, and planned on doing it, but there was no guarantee that it would happen. The child's father wanted him to stay on the farm that had been in his family for six generations. Finally, I managed to get him to see my point of view. He would look more like an Elf than a human. How would he fit in human society with those ears? Humans sometimes mock Elf ears, comparing them to a donkey's. Imagine what the children of his village would call him. Also, if he went to Silvermoon, he would have the best education and live in safety. In the end, his father agreed.
"Everything was looking well, until the child came. He was born healthy as could be, but just not the way we thought he would be. You see, normally when a human and Elf mate, the child will have Elf like ears and a humans body. But in the case of our child, he had an Elf's body and the ears of a human making him look like a very thin and frail looking human. I loved him so much, but I knew Silvermoon would never accept him. So I left him with his father, knowing he would take good care of him. I promised him that I would return in several of years when I had more free time. But I never got the chance. A week before I was scheduled to leave to see them, we were attacked by the Scourge." She then looked down at the bow. "This was to be my present to him."
"Did you ever get to see him again?" asked Cairne.
"No," said Sylvanas. "Both of them died shortly after I created the Forsaken. My son died somewhere in the Barrens and his father was killed by the Orcs."
"I had no idea you had this pain inside of you," said Cairne. "I know no words will ever help you recover from such a loss, but know that you have a friend in me. Should you ever need to talk to someone, know that I am always here for you."
"Thank you Cairne," said Sylvanas as she gave him the warmest smile he had ever seen her give anyone.