A stern kick to the face, from an imbued sabaton, greeted Gorgor as he slowly awoke in his barrack hammock.
Gorgor snapped at his soon-to-be commander. "Just what do you think you're doing?!"
"I said I would administer a beating once my reinstatement is official. Well, here we are."
A small trail of blood leaked from Gorgor's mouth. He grinned malevolently as he wiped it away. "I see those melons of yours do more than just make you look good. Very well, I'll be glad to send you back to Undercity... In a body bag."
Gorgor threw a hard left at the young blood elf death knight however her counter left him unable to react to any degree. She quickly leaped on to his wrist, causing him to lose his balance, falling forward. She quickly drove one of her knees into right between his eyes, sending him crashing hard into the wall.
The orc berserker cradled the wound of his forehead, noticing he was bleeding quite profusely. She's so fast, Gorgor pondered, how the hell am I going to hit her if I can't even see her movement?
Lucafina studied the look of shock adorning his mug. "Well, I see you finally realize how outclassed you are."
Gorgor growled before he rushed her again, only to be knocked back by her boot once again. "You little bitch, you're going to die once I get my hands on you." He rushed her yet again, this time getting knocked down by an elbow to the jaw.
"I... lost..." Gorgor muttered before he blacked out.
The other grunts and guards in proximity whispered amongst each other as they gazed upon this adolescent female Blood Elf who bested whom was thought one of their best up and comings...
Noticing she was getting a rather evil eye, Lucafina threatened, "Any one else want some of this?"
Before any of the others could take her up on her offer, Gorgor slowly rose from what was believed to be unconsciousness.
"Up so so..." Lucafina noticed something was wrong, likely from the fact his eyes were now glowing red. "The hell is this?"
Gorgor growled so fiercely the ground around them vibrated. He rushed the blood elf again, this time moving at a far faster pace, catching her off guard. She was in shock after a hard knee greeted her stomach and sent her crashing through the wooden boards of the barracks.
Lucafina attempted to get up but couldn't, she was stuck on her knees as the pain she felt from his the orc's blow was too much. She thought, What the hell is going on, where did he get that kind of speed and power from?
Gorgor grabbed an ax from a nearby weapons rack before slowly walking towards his prey. He demonically shrieked before he poised to strike a killing blow, however he feinted before he could bring his ax down on her.
The blood elf commander surmised, Berserker rage, that has to be it. I was lucky to survive, I guess I will have to think of less violent disciplinary action for him in the future. She stood up, albeit she could only limp as she was too injured at this point.
The orc soldiers who witnessed the brawl began laughing at the blood elf as she walked away, chastising her verbally, telling her how no elf could ever measure up to an orc in combat and she might as well go back home. Tears began to stream down her cheeks. She never had a home to her knowledge. She was too sheltered by her parents to remember what Silvermoon was like before the Scourge brought about its end, and certainly was never welcomed by the populace of the renewed Silvermoon due to her status as a Death Knight. She never felt welcome in Undercity either, even if she was technically undead, the magic that revives a Death Knight is a bit more advanced than what reanimates other undead creatures, preventing her from putrefying in any way.
( ) ( ) ( )
Sleep did not ordinarily come to the undead Banshee Queen, however in Thrall's embrace, she relaxed all to easily. They were shacked up at Nighthaven still and Aggra was in Orgrimmer. However, even in undeath, her subconscious would play tricks.
A vision came to her. It appeared to be one of Orgrimmar, being overrun by undead. Orcs were being slaughtered, led by a mirror image of herself. "No, what am I doing?"
This image of herself approached a dying female orc and an orc child begging for his mom to survive. "That's Aggra, the warchief's wife... and their son!"
The mirror image of herself smiled sadistically as she slowly drew her bow and a couple of arrows. In less than a second, she shot them both down.
"Aggra!"
Sylvannas could see an image of Thrall, beaten to an inch of his life, break down in tears after watching her doppleganger murder his wife and child. "Don't be so sad, warchief. You will all have the priviledge of serving me... in undeath!"
The undead elf shot up out of bed, out of her lover's embrace. She was sweating, something she had not done since her days of being a living entity. She also felt fear, something she had not ever felt as a banshee.
"What you saw was your destiny," an ominous voice called out to her.
Heavy foot steps could be heard approaching from the staircase and whoever it was coming up to the loft where they slept.
Sylvannas whispered harshly. "Hellscream."
"Sylvannas, it's been far too long."
"It hasn't been long enough, you oaf!"
"Nevermind that. That vision you saw, it was the future. You as you come to accept Sargeras as your master, just as I have."
The dark lady insisted. "Never, I will never join you."
"Don't lie to yourself, dark lady! As much as you pretend to desire salvation for Undercity, as much as you pretend to love Thrall, it's all secondary to your lust for power. You and I are much alike. I wanted to ensure the prosperity of orcs, although that was secondary to furthering my own power."
"I'm nothing like you!"
Thrall shifted in bed before his eye's lazily opened and focused on his former protege. He growled. "Garrosh!"
"Stand down, loser. Else I'll put you in your place again."
Thrall remembered his duel with Garrosh, nearly dying, only saved by several heroes of both the Alliance and Horde. "What do you want?"
"The Banshee Queen. Sargeras desires all that was once his return to him. Since Kil'Jaeden now has command of the Scourge in Northerend, Sargeras would like to take command of the Forsaken. Simple as that."
"Enough tragedy has befallen the people of Silvermoon and Lordearon, I will not allow for you to do this!"
Garrosh laughed. "Your shamanic powers are nothing compared to the powers that Sargaras has granted me. Even the power of Y'shaarj was nothing compared to it. You are out of your league, son of Durotan."
"We'll see about that!" Thrall arose from bed and grabbed Doomhammer which was leaning adjacently against the wall.
"You shall only get as far as the Night Elves did. Let me give you a hint, they're all dead."
"What?"
Garrosh smirked. "The Night Elves, Arch Druids, even Malfurion. I killed them all!"
"Liar!" Thrall closed in with his hammer, electricity surrounding the intimidating mallet.
However, Garrosh was now too powerful. He held out his right hand and a black wave of chi-like energy shot from his palm, tearing a rather large hole in the shaman's chest. The force pushed Thrall through the wall of the inn and he landed several meters below and away.
Sylvannas swiftly jumped from the new hole in the wall and landed next to her lover, who was surely dying as profuse amounts of blood streamed from his chest cavity and his mouth.
Despite being in undeath, Sylvannas could only cry as she watched the one she loved struggle to so much as speak, so much as breath as he died before her.
"Please, don't die Thrall!" She begged.
However, she knew there was nothing she could do for him, save for one thing. Transform him into something like her. "Val'kyr, come!"
"Yes, do it!" Garrosh urged as he caught up to them. "And think, his hatred of you will last for eternity."
Sylvannas froze. Surely she could spare Thrall's life by transforming him into an undead creature, but would be be grateful? Most likely, no. He would probably despise her for it, for an eternity at that.
What can I do? Sylvannas through. For the first time in so long, she begged. "Holy light, please help me!"
Garrosh laughed however his gloating was caught short as what appeared a Lay on Hands spell encompassed the dying orc.
Several squads of heavily armored Tauren and Blood Elves approached, led by Sunwalker Dezco.
Sylvannas was relieved that the Sunwalkers and Sunreavers came to her aide. As the light around Thrall dissipated, he was revealed to be in good health. "It seems the Horde is in your debt once again, brother Dezco," Thrall acknowledge the Tauren paladin as he arose to his feet.
"I appreciate your kind words, war chief. However, such kindness is wasted for those about to die."
"What are you saying?"
"We will keep him distracted, you shall retreat to Orgrimmar while you still can."
Thrall was hesitant. "No..."
The Banshee Queen assured him. "Let's go, Thrall. We need to regroup and devise a strategy with Vol'jin and Baine."
Thrall hesitantly followed the dark lady's lead.
After they created some distance between themselves and Garrosh, Dezco ordered the paladins to attack Garrosh head on.
As they made their escape, every fabric of Thrall's heart burned as his spiritual powers allowed him to feel the lives of the paladins being slaughtered one, by one. A large black pillar of flame engulfed the battlefield.
As they approached the flight master stable, Thrall dropped to his knees in tears. Sylvannas urged him to hurry. "They won't be be able to hold him off for long, we have to go now!"
He hesitantly got to his feet and they mounted a gryphon for they journey back to Orgrimmar.
Meanwhile, Garrosh managed to kill every last Paladin save Dezco, who was critically injured. The orc stood above him, about to drive Gorehowl through his skull.
"Laza, Cloudhoof, soon we will be reunited..."
Garrosh smirked. "Is that what you hoped for? Unfortunately for you, Sargeras has granted me the ability to create Death Knights! You won't be seeing for your family ever again!"
Dezco's eyes went wide with fear.
Garrosh laughed hysterically as his eyes flashed red, preparing the spell needed to bind the Tauren paladin to Sargeras's will.
"You will stop right there, son of Hellscream!"
Garrosh recalled the last time someone has the nerve to refer to him as such. However, he could tell whoever calling him out this time wasn't Taran Zhu. The orc turned to his six to see another paladin, however this one taking him by surprise. "It can't be, you're supposed to be dead."
The paladin was a human, who stood a very tall height and was relished with silver and blue armor. His long hair was blonde and his eyes cerulean."
Garrosh anticipated a glorious battle ahead. "Well, I do believe we've never met but I have heard far more about you than I ever cared to... Arthas Menethil."