(AN: This is the last chapter of this tiny fic-let, in which I throw most of the characters I and my brother created. Some have been left out, mostly because death knights really aren't good at all. Both my brother and I have been playing through the death knight order hall campaign and they don't come across as good in any way at all, not even a small way. They're the ghost of Winter's Veil future. But aside from that, there are so many characters thrown in here and you get no time to meet any of them or know more about them. If I am able to continue my Warcraft fanfic universe, they will appear and be in more dire straits than you see here.)
Chapter 3
A knock was heard at the door of the little two-story house in the Old Town of Stormwind. From down the stairs came two young children, a boy and a girl; the girl had red hair and the boy's was a few shades lighter. The boy was a year or so older than the girl, but they both bore the resemblance of their father and mother. Both of them ran to the door and began quarreling among themselves about who would open it first and guessing who might be on the other end of the door. Two sets of hands turned the knob and pulled the door back. Standing before them was a young girl with flaming red hair and dressed in the colors of the squires of the Silver Hand; behind her was a Dwarf woman, also with red hair and many years older than the squire, but shorter than her.
"Hannah!" the boy and girl squealed as they gave their big sister a big hug.
"Tal, Mary!" giggled Hannah Redmane. "Oh, I've missed you two so much! Where's mom and dad? Are they here yet?"
"Dad's bringing home some wood for the fireplace," Talus, the boy, replied. "Mom hasn't come back yet."
"Can we come in?" Hannah asked. "I'm starving."
"Who's that?" Maryem, the little girl, asked, pointing to the Dwarf.
"This is my instructor," Hannah said. "She's been training me to be a Paladin one day. This is Marion Sledgeheart."
"Hi there!" the Dwarf greeted.
"I heard all Dwarves have beards," Maryem asked. "Where's your beard?"
"I havenae got a beard, ye wee lass," Marion chuckled, tussling Maryem's hair. "That's just a story!"
The four of them walked into the house, which was sparsely decorated for Winter's Veil. Hannah took her instructor's hooded cloak and hung it on one of the hooks that were nailed on the wall by the door.
"What's with all ye?" Marion asked. "Why are there nae decorations up yet?"
"We're waiting until mom and dad get home," Talus said.
"It's always been that way," Hannah added.
"But what about the tree?" Marion inquired. "Ye always gotta have a tree for Winter's Veil."
"Mom said she'd get one," Maryem said.
"A bit late, innit?" Marion asked.
"It's fine," Hannah said. "The important thing is that we all get to spend Winter's Veil together." Talus and Maryem went back upstairs while Hannah spoke to her instructor. "I was surprised that my mom's letter got to you so soon. What with all the people going to and fro during Winter's Veil, you'd think the Postmaster would be snowed in!"
Marion laughed. "Aye, lass."
Hannah was about to close the door behind them when she saw someone on the street coming towards their house. With happiness in her face and excitement in her voice, she turned back to look up the stairs and call her brother and sister back down. Melissa was making her way to the door, but no sooner had she passed through than she was rushed and hugged by her children. She hugged and kissed each one in turn.
"I'm so happy to be home!" Melissa exclaimed. "I've missed you all so much."
"We've missed you too, mommy." Maryem said.
Melissa had to move them out of the way as Xingwei came in behind her, carrying a large sack of food on her back. She introduced her children to the large Pandaren, who managed to spare a paw to pat them each on the end. Melissa then directed Xingwei to the kitchen, then she turned back to her children.
"Now Xing and I are going to start preparing the food for tonight," Melissa said. "I want you to make some room here in the living room. I think we might run out of chairs at the table. When you're finished, Hannah, come into the kitchen and give us a hand, if you will?"
"Yes, mom," Hannah replied.
"I can help," Marion interjected.
"Oh no!" interjected Melissa. "You're a guest, I wouldn't ask you to help with the preparations. Um, you can sit here in the living room and answer the door." She paused to make her way over to Marion and mutter in her ear: "I'll have Tharbin bring along some spirits later. We'll drink once the kids are asleep; is that alright with you?"
"Well enough," Marion nodded.
Melissa went back to the kitchen to begin cooking with Xing. The afternoon was only half-way over, but as night came soon in winter, it would be dark in a matter of only two hours. They would not begin their feast until the bell tolled the hour of seven. For the next three hours, however, there was plenty of cooking to be done and time enough for their guests to arrive.
The next guest to arrive was Jenassa Duskwatcher. She was a tall Night Elven huntress with hair the color of twilight shade, with green leaves in her hair. She rarely left Kalimdor, as she was one of the Sentinels who defended the Night Elven forests of Ashenvale. The Night Elf made her presence known and Melissa told her to make herself comfortable.
The arrival of the men-folk was a bit more of an ordeal. Tharbin answered the door and told them to make way; behind him stood a very frustrated Abner Varlaine who was carrying a large pine tree while a noble-looking High Elf stood by, refusing to lend a hand.
"Oh, dear!" Melissa exclaimed when she saw her husband at the door. "What happened to the wood you were supposed to bring for the fire?"
"Leshara found us and offered to bring that over," Tharbin replied. "Has anyone else arrived yet? We're gonna need some help with this tree."
"I'll help," Marion offered.
"Why isn't that Quel'dorei helping you?" Jenassa asked.
"I am not a servant boy!" the High Elf retorted. "I came here to eat food, drink ale, and celebrate the feast of Winter's Veil, not coat myself in tree-sap!"
"A little tree-sap never hurt anyone," Jenassa returned.
"Says the tree-hugging Kal'dorei!" quoth the High Elf. "Besides, it will take forever to get it out of my hair!"
"Setheras, can you decide to be helpful for a change?" Abner Varlaine retorted.
"I help if and where it is needed," said Setheras, the High Elf. "You don't seem to be needing any help."
"Here, I'll help," Jenassa offered.
It took two men, a Dwarf, and a Night Elf working together to get the tree into the living room of the Redmane house. Once it was in, Tharbin and Abner set the tree upright. Jenassa wasn't very keen on the use of a tree, and mused why the Gnomes couldn't create a false one without damaging any real trees.
"The Horde already does much damage to our forests back home in Ashenvale," Jenassa said. "Things could be done differently here, you know."
"Ach, you're starting to sound like 'im," Marion groaned, gesturing to Setheras.
Tharbin called Talus and Maryem down and told them to help decorate the tree while he sat down with the newcomers and Jenassa. Abner, Setheras, and Marion had formerly been of the Scarlet Crusade and had only returned to the Alliance during the Northrend campaign. Abner was a grizzled man somewhere in his forties, with reddish brown hair, a scruffy beard, and more than a few scars upon his face. Setheras was the opposite; a clean-faced High Elf with long, silky hair the color of nightfall and eyes that glowed blue. These three had proven faithful to the Crusade and Setheras and Marion had survived numerous purges from their leadership that had culled many others of their races from their ranks. Tharbin asked them about goings on in Lordaeron and if the restoration was going smoothly.
Night had already fallen and Melissa was worried that the rest of their guests wouldn't arrive in time. Twenty minutes passed after the hour of six and still they hadn't arrived. Another three minutes and the long-awaited knock was heard at the door. No sooner had young Talus opened the door when several presents in bright-colored wrapping paper came floating through the door. Atop a rather large one sat Bartholomax Manafizzle, a Gnome with a long dark beard and curled whiskers. Talus and Maryem cheered with delight at the tiny mage's impressive display of his magical powers. Behind him there entered a dark-haired Gnome woman carrying a rather small sack that seemed to be disproportionately heavy to its small size; this was Fizzle Bangratchet, also called 'Fizzie' for short, the ward of Bart Manafizzle. After her there came two humans hooded and cloaked. One was a woman with dark skin and jet black hair, while the other was a middle-aged man with a very plain, unassuming face and bald head.
These last two hadn't met each other and were eying the other suspiciously. The man was good Elder Lionel Clarkston; he was a priest and was known to Melissa, who saw him regularly at the Netherlight Temple. The woman was named Tia Rowan, and aside from a subtle mention of her as a magician by Bart, little else was known about who she was or what she did.
Behind them came Leshara, who completed the merry little throng. Once they were inside, Bart directed the presents that he was levitating to come to rest under the tree, only to notice at the last minute that he was going face-first towards a large branch. He rolled off the present and fell on the floor, which brought laughter from the children of Melissa and Tharbin (who were normal-sized for children their ages, but taller than both Bart and Fizzie). Once the presents were placed under the tree, Fizzie set down her little bag and asked for someone bigger and stronger than her to help: within the magically enhanced bag were cords of wood that were easily as long as she was tall. Marion gave the little Gnome a hand.
"How'd ye manage to carry them logs, if'n they're as big as ye are?" Marion exclaimed.
"Bart enchanted the bag," Fizzie said. "He made it much bigger on the inside, but also made it much lighter than normal."
While they were unloading logs and placing them by the fireplace, Leshara walked into the kitchen. She banged her horns against the ceiling, which hadn't been built for a seven foot tall Draenei woman, and muttered something in her native language while gingerly stroking her horns: as a rule, Draenei women are very particular about the state of their horns. She then turned to Melissa once she was inside the kitchen.
"There you are!" she said. "It was rather difficult, but I believe we got everything you needed for your list."
"Excellent!" Melissa exclaimed. "We're almost done in here, why don't you go into the living room with the others. We're almost ready."
Truly enough, they were in fact almost ready. In the living room, Abner was talking to Setheras, Clarkston and Tia about a particularly troublesome hunt he had been on these past few months. Jenassa was fixing a wreath that had fallen down from its place. Bart had cast a levitating spell on a sprig of mistletoe that was now hovering above his head, and Fizzie was trying hard to stifle peals of laughter. Marion was recounting to the children the true story of Winter's Veil.
"Greatfather Winter brings the season o' cold and frost to the lands o' Azeroth," Marion said. "Legend has it that he was one o' the Titans, the ancient beings who created Dwarves, Gnomes, Humans, and all o' Azeroth. As he walks across the land..."
"Flies," Setheras added. "That's what the reindeer are for."
"Don't give me none o' that goblin malarkey!" Marion interjected. "Now then, flies or walks, it dinnae matter; he brings winter over the land. Most folk are afraid of him, and hide in their homes in winter, shiverin' and shakin', as they wait for spring to come again. But the wise folk know that winter brings new life and new things. Those who welcome his coming are blessed with bounty in the coming year; that is why we get together and feast."
Melissa suddenly noticed a bearded face plant a kiss upon her cheek. She turned and saw that Tharbin had nabbed some of Bart's magically enchanted mistletoe and held it above their heads. She blushed and chuckled, then wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed their lips together.
Suddenly there was a knock at the door. All eyes turned towards the door. Who could it be? Everyone else was here and accounted for. Who could possibly show up for their feasting? Jenassa rose up and came to the door.
"Don't worry, it's my guest," she said with slight annoyance in her voice. Jenassa was usually very punctual, almost to a fault. She opened the door and invited in her guest. Melissa was surprised to see who it was, for it was most certainly not Anara Chillwind, whom she had expected Jenassa to bring.
Instead, there stood Felara Nightborne, one of the insufferably arrogant Illidari: Melissa had dealings with them ever since the Legion's return and knew just how insufferably pompous and arrogant they were, defiant even. This one, however, she had met before. Felara was about the same height as Jenassa and her hair also was raven black, but her eyes were bound in a black cloth; her body, usually visibly showing off her fel-tattoos, was covered in a thick cloak to keep out the cold; all that remained of her demonic taint were the horns that grew from her head.
"Ish'nu alla," Felara greeted.
"This is an unexpected surprise," Melissa commented. Jenassa gestured towards the kitchen and mouthed 'I'll explain later', but then led Felara to a seat among the others.
"Welcome," Tia greeted. "It's an honor to have you with us."
"Perhaps," Felara replied, turning her blind-folded eyes towards Tia. Her long brows furrowed in disgust.
Jenassa whispered something into Felara's ear, then made her way through the guests, ducking as Bart sent up blue and violet arcane sparks to the amusement of the children, and gestured for Melissa to follow her into the kitchen.
"Alright, what's going on?" Melissa asked. "Why is she here?"
"I'm sorry I didn't tell you who I was bringing," Jenassa said. "Look, I remember what happened in Felwood, when you went in search of the truth about Illidan. You and I both know what he and his ilk have done; and I would be the first one to view the Illidari with the distrust that they have earned for themselves. But Felara is different; she has her doubts about the things Illidan has done, as I'm sure she told you."
Melissa nodded.
"She's also less arrogant about her past sins. I would daresay that she truly does recognize the depth of what she did. She claims that she now serves Azeroth rather than herself. I...I would like to believe that she speaks truth, and so have invited her to take part of our Winter's Veil feast. I mean, after all, isn't that what this is all about? Renewal and rebirth? What better way to show that than to offer Felara a chance at a new life among our people again?"
Melissa sighed. "You're right, I'm sorry. After everything we went through on Argus, and the way the Illidari carry themselves, it's never easy having one of them around. I'll agree to this."
"Thank you, high priest," Jenassa bowed.
"Now then, if you'd like to help me," Melissa said. "The food is almost ready."
A great feast had been prepared, courtesy of Melissa and Xingwei. There was enough ham and cheese to sink a ship, as well as flaming pudding and warm cider. In addition to this, Bart conjured many magical treats which he gave out to all those about. Furthermore, Xing had added a little treat of her own; a red bean bun that was mildly sweet but surprisingly delicious. There were so many people that they could not all fit at the table, and so Bart had to summon a floating magical table for them to sit around and eat at. No one refused a second helping of anything; some of them (like Marion and Xing) even went so far as to ask for thirds.
Once everyone had eaten their fill, then came the presents. Melissa and Tharbin had to go upstairs to fetch those which she had managed to buy, while the rest (and more than a few others) were under the tree. When they came back down, they were greeted with enthusiastic cheers from all those around them. As was the tradition in the Redmane family, several festive "gag gifts" were first passed out among those gathered here. Among them included several gaudy sweaters, red caps with white fur lining topped with a white poof-ball on top, and reindeer antlers made of felt. Bart managed to use magic to place a pair of the felt antlers on Jenassa's head, after which he remarked that she looked like Malfurion Stormrage. Felara and Fizzie laughed, while Jenassa looked rather dissatisfied with their prank.
Then came the authentic gifts. Melissa was amazed to discover that her guests had brought gifts along with them for her and her family as well. These had been hidden away in the magically enhanced bag that Fizzie carried (which explains how, even with a feather enchantment, it was such a great weight), and were now being brought out. Leshara was a jeweler, as had her family been before the Horde waged war on the Draenei; she had prepared for all of them various trinkets of varying size and value, both intrinsic and magical. For Melissa, she had a citrine pendant that had been blessed by a Draenei anchorite.
"A gift for a servant of the Light," Leshara said. "May it serve you well."
"Thank you so much," Melissa returned. "I must say, how were you able to make all of these so quickly?"
"I have been working on them in my spare time throughout the year," Leshara replied.
Tharbin was given a ring whose sapphire had engraved upon it the emblem of Lordaeron; that he may carry the heritage of his people with him for all time. Bart and Fizzie were given each an amulet that hung from a cord about the neck; the amulet itself was shaped like a cog, with an amethyst slightly off-center. Each one only got half a cog, but they could be connected together and form one single cog. Abner received a spyglass, such as the Draenei hunters used, affixed with a magically enchanted quartz. Setheras received a slender circlet of silver wings set with sapphires. Marion received a prayer bead necklace with tiny gems at every sixth bead. Each of Melissa and Tharbin's children received a necklace with their birthstones in the center thereof; Hannah's was an opal. Xing received a pair of pearl earrings, while the earrings Tia was given were set with amethysts. Felara received an enchanted moonstone whose radiance could be felt; a gift to lead her back to the light of Elune. Jenassa's gift was a silver bracelet set with a sapphire and an amethyst and these words engraved in Darnassian, whose translation to the Common Tongue was this:
Blessings upon the Kal'dorei for their warm welcome of the Draenei upon their arrival to Azeroth.
The full count of the gifts that were given and exchanged was long indeed and exhaustive. Marion was a tinker, and therefore a lot of her gifts were such toys crafted after the fashion of Gnomish engineering. Bart was a scribe, so he had quite a few books to give to those about them; for Hannah he gave a catechism book, such that young Paladin initiates used to wield the Light to heal their allies and smite the undead. For Leshara, he had a book on the history of the Eastern Kingdoms. For Melissa, he gave another large, empty book and a new set of inks.
"A most useful gift from one scribe to another," he exclaimed.
Melissa's gifts were such things that were useful for each and every one of them. Those for her family were recently acquired, while those for the others she had meant to give them at one point or another but had more or less forgotten about them until now. Tharbin received a shield which had been emblazoned with the emblem of Lordaeron.
"Whatever the future holds for us, my love," Melissa said. "I know that you'll be safe, bearing the memory of our home with you wherever you go."
For Leshara, she gave her a beautician's stone which she could use for her horns and her hooves. The Scarlet Crusaders received such gifts: Abner received a shaving kit, Setheras a golden-polished mirror, and Marion a silver tankard.
"I cannae wait to try this out!" exclaimed the Dwarf happily.
Each of Melissa's children received something fun for themselves as well as something useful. As for Hannah, who was now fourteen years of age, Melissa gave to her a very special gift.
"This is one of Father Preston's catechism books on the Holy Light," Melissa said. "He gave it to me long ago, before you were born. I've transcribed what was written there, and used his wisdom in my notes. Now I pass this on to you; may it serve you well and dispel any lies you may hear in the future about the Light."
"That's a mighty gift, young Paladin," good Elder Clarkston spoke up. "I knew good Father Preston when I was no older than you are. His teachings helped me in my studies as a priest. Truly a worthy soul, may he rest in the Light."
The gift-giving continued, and for the moment Melissa dismissed herself, saying that she wanted to examine the drinks that were being prepared for later. She went not to the kitchen but up the stairs and looked out one of the windows that looked out to the north, towards Lordaeron. She wondered where her childhood friend, Hannah Mardenholde, was this season.
Night was falling upon Andorhal and still Florenica remained in the ruined house. Several times a Forsaken patrol had passed by the place, and she had to do her best to make herself scarce. By the time darkness started to fall, she had come to the conclusion that her nemesis had taken off and fled, and was now plotting her demise from somewhere in the shadows.
Just as she was about to leave, she heard the creaking of floor-boards coming from near the door. Turning there, she saw the dark-hooded figure of Mardenholde standing there, clutching something in her gloved hands.
"What took you so long?" Florenica asked.
"What, no thank you?" Mardenholde retorted in a huff. "It wasn't exactly a fast trip to Hearthglen, I'll have you know. Nor was breaking into the town either."
"Did you get it?"
The undead produced a large glass bottle filled with a milky yellow-white substance. Florenica's mood altered at the sight of the eggnog.
"Excellent," she smiled. "So, now, where shall we sit?"
"These chairs are rotten and will collapse under our weight," Mardenholde uttered. "Here on the floor is good enough. But light no fire, not even candles. We don't want to draw attention to ourselves."
Florenica nodded. It would certainly be difficult to explain what they were doing here, and why they were not killing each other. They sat down now with their backs against the wall, and about a foot and a half of space between the two of them. Such a strange sight, these two arch-rivals, now seated together over a cup of holiday spirits.
"I don't suppose you thought of cups, did you?" Florenica asked. "I'm not drinking it straight from the bottle, not after you've touched it with your black lips."
"Do you have a problem with drinking after a corpse?" Mardenholde retorted and leaned in as if she would kiss Florenica. She leaned back in disgust.
"Yes, actually!" Florenica retorted.
"Hmph," snorted Mardenholde. "Well, in that case, there should be some cups around here somewhere." She placed the bottle down on the floor, then walked up and broke open a cupboard door from what was left of the nearby kitchen. The boards had dry-rotted and most of the dish-ware was broken or looted, but there were still two pewter cups that were in good condition. These Mardenholde brought back to Florenica, then returned to sit down at her right-hand side.
"You really have lived here before, haven't you?" Florenica asked.
"This was my house," Mardenholde said, with a hint of sadness in her voice. "I was going to live here with my husband, bear him many children, perhaps start a little apothecary shop, and live out the rest of my days in peace and happiness."
"What happened?" Florenica returned.
"I died," Mardenholde grimly replied. "Then I came back." She then removed the stopper from the bottle of eggnog and poured a measure of it into each cup.
"You should consider yourself quite fortunate," Mardenholde said, as she offered Florenica her cup.
"Why?" she asked. "Because I'm the first person you haven't killed?"
"I don't open up to people about my past," replied the Forsaken. "We undead never do; it's far too...painful. But it is Winter's Veil and, like you, I was feeling sentimental myself, especially being back here in my old house."
"To Winter's Veil!" Florenica said, raising her cup in toast. Mardenholde took up that toast and they downed their cups. Florenica winced as the alcohol burned her throat going down; she noticed, however, that Mardenholde didn't seem at all bothered by it.
"Did that do anything for you?" she asked.
"Not really," Mardenholde replied. "Strong drink doesn't burn the throat going down like it used to."
"Can you even get drunk anymore?" Florenica asked.
"I don't know," Mardenholde answered. "And I'm not keen on finding out. The Dark Lady would not be pleased to hear that I'm drunk on the job."
"What about the taste?" Florenica asked, as she took the bottle to pour them another round. "It's nice and creamy."
"I don't taste anymore," Mardenholde grimly said.
"Nothing at all?"
"You know those mashed potatoes they make at the Pilgrim's Bounty festival?" the undead asked. "Everything tastes like that. Bland and without savor. There's no joy for me in anything."
"Except killing?"
"Exactly. Let the whole world suffer the way I've suffered."
"That's really selfish, you know."
"And how is my killing any better than yours?" Mardenholde asked before taking a drink.
"Well, for one thing, I don't eat the people I kill," Florenica stated, then took a drink herself. "For another, I fight to protect people. You fight to make them suffer."
"I know all about SI:7," Mardenholde retorted. "Your organization has done more than a few questionable actions over the past."
"As have the Forsaken," Florenica stated.
"Watch what you say, now," Mardenholde interjected. "I'm under orders to kill anyone spreading false rumors about the Dark Lady."
"What false rumors?" Florenica asked.
"That she was somehow responsible for the Wrathgate Incident, for one thing," Mardenholde retorted. "It was Varimathras, everyone knows that." She reached for the bottle.
"If it's a false rumor, why kill for it?" Florenica asked. "Unless Varimathras really wasn't behind it..." The undead's hand moved from the bottle to the knife and brought it out in one swift motion and pressed the blade against Florenica's throat.
"Utter one more word against the Dark Lady," Mardenholde said. "And you're dead."
"Whatever you like, then," Florenica dismissed nominally; the undead's reaction to her question gave her reason to wonder if, as most in the Alliance believed, the official story about the Wrathgate was not the whole story. Mardenholde slowly placed her dagger back in her sheath, then reached for the bottle. "You really were gonna do it, weren't you?"
"Of course," Mardenholde retorted. "I've killed warriors of the Horde who have been spreading that rumor. Even other Forsaken."
"No honor among thieves, eh?" Florenica asked, taking the bottle once Mardenholde had poured herself some.
"You should talk," Mardenholde replied. "A noblewoman giving up her lineage to take the name of a nobody soldier who turned pirate. Even Garrosh had more honor than that!"
"I thought you Horde loved Garrosh," Florenica retorted.
"He hated the Dark Lady, and therefore he was my enemy," Mardenholde answered.
"Well, at least we can agree on our hatred for Garrosh, then, right?" Florenica asked.
"To our hatred for Garrosh," Mardenholde toasted. "May he languish in the Nameless Void."
They both drank again. After that round, Florenica looked at the bottle.
"Almost out."
"Don't worry, I have more," Mardenholde then produced a second bottle, which she placed next to them. They poured out another round for themselves.
"What's your name?" Florenica asked.
"Why do you want to know?" Mardenholde retorted.
"It's a little easier to call you by your first name rather than your last name," Florenica stated.
"Oh no, Florenica Vander Cross," Mardenholde shook her head. "I'm not getting attached to you. Remember, after this is over, it's back to business as usual between us. Besides, I don't make attachments."
"You don't?" Florenica asked. "Not even to your fellow undead?"
"Our lives, such as they are, belong to the Dark Lady," Mardenholde said. "We live or die at her will. Also we don't make friends with those we knew in life. They tend to hate and fear us greatly."
"Such a lonely life," Florenica remarked.
"I enjoy the solitude," Mardenholde stated.
"That's not true," Florenica responded.
"You know nothing about me," sneered Mardenholde, taking another sip of eggnog.
"Aside from what SI:7 knows," Florenica returned. "I know that you agreed to this, what we're doing here." She took a sip from her cup. "You must be missing having someone or we wouldn't be here."
"Such an attitude on you," grumbled Mardenholde.
"You can deny it all you want," Florenica replied. "But you know that you're tired of solitude. Even you can't live forever alone."
"There's no other option," Mardenholde sighed. "We undead find no pleasure in this world, whether in things that live, or the things that once drove us in life. Our existence is an empty, joyless one. Yet still we live on, slaves to the will of the Dark Lady."
Florenica stopped herself from responding with 'What makes you different than the Scourge, or Sylvanas different than the Lich King?', but she held her peace. It still intrigued her, the response Mardenholde had over the hint of questioning the official story about the Wrathgate. She would have to look into it more deeply. Most in the Alliance didn't believe the official story anyway, but it seemed now that there was a kernel of truth to the rumors. But for now, she rather enjoyed having someone to share a drink with, even if it was an enemy.
"You can call me Flor," she said.
"That's a stupid nickname," Mardenholde scoffed. "Might as well call yourself chair or table."
Flor didn't respond, but gave a smug grin as she poured herself another round. That same smile always annoyed the other young noblewomen she socialized with as a teenager, before the Great Fire. If Mardenholde had such a fragile ego as Sylvanas, then this would certainly get under her rotting skin.
True enough, when Mardenholde realized that her taunts were not getting through to Florenica, she scowled.
"Problem?" Flor asked. "Have I already disarmed you?"
"The Void take you," Mardenholde grumbled as she took the eggnog bottle from her. There wasn't much left in the first bottle, but there was plenty in the unopened second bottle (as well as the third one she had managed to pilfer). She swigged it straight from the bottle, then placed it on the ground before reaching for the second one. She then sighed and looked away, toward the wall.
"Hannah."
"Happy Winter's Veil, Hannah," Flor said as she poured herself some eggnog, then held the bottle titled, ready to pour for her nemesis; the only one who truly understood her. Mardenholde turned about and held up her cup to receive another round.
"Happy Winter's Veil, Flor," she said with a chuckle.
Night was falling in the warrior-city of Orgrimmar. Even here in the desert, the winter nights were very cold. Many were celebrating Winter's Veil according to their own traditions; or, if they didn't follow it as such, took part in the goblin-funded commercialized traditions of the times. The air, as always, was filled with the sound of drums beating every night. The smell of roasted pork and newly-forged steel filled the air.
The Broken Tusk was a notoriously violent tavern, but for tonight, the revelry was less violent than usual. It was Winter's Veil, and even the Orcs of Orgrimmar were feeling festive in their own way: it might also have to do with the fact that it wasn't as full as it usuall was on such nights. The tables on the upper level had been rented out for a private celebration, one which was just now starting to arrive.
First ones to appear were Zen'jamba, as well as a buxom Troll woman who had long blue hair; the main part of which fell down her back and was braided in four braids, two on either side of her face. No sooner had they appeared when a goblin dressed in black appeared from one corner of the tavern to approach them.
"There you are!" the goblin exclaimed. "Been waiting for youse guys all day. What kept ya? Did ya fall asleep or something?"
The female Troll laughed. "You be a funny one, Liddie!"
"I am, ain't I?" Liddie replied. "I should charge for my jokes. Anyway, where are the others? The only one who's showed up is that creepy tall chick in black. Ugh! If only more people understood the concept of 'time is money!'"
"Most ain't as punctual as you be," Zen'jamba added.
"Well they should be!" Liddie exclaimed.
"Heyyo!" a familiar voice greeted. They turned to see a very large Pandaren, dressed in the black clothes of a brewmaster, walk into the Broken Tusk. In one hand was a staff with a gourd and tea-kettle tied to it, and under one arm was a large keg. Behind him walked a much samller Pandaren cub dressed in a pink dress.
"Chen!" exclaimed Zen'jamba. "Ya made it!"
"I couldn't resist the chance to stay at one of my favorite watering holes in all of Kalimdor," Chen Stormstout said. "But I see that we are early. Where are the others?"
"They be comin' in due time, mon," Zen'jamba stated. "Chen, Li Li, dis be Tel'jirza, me lady-friend."
"Hi there!" the little Pandaren cub greeted excitedly.
"How ya doin', little one?" Tel'jirza greeted.
"Amazing!" Li Li began, talking at the pace of a rampaging Falcosaur. "My uncle and I have been exploring all over the Broken Isles. Those Highmountain Tauren are funny; especially Moozy. I never thought I'd meet anyone who moved slower than my old uncle! All the ghosts in Aszuna were really nice to us, which, you know, is kind of strange. I mean, Night Elves generally aren't very nice to outsiders. But the whole place stank of fish!"
Just then a roar was heard from near the door. Two large Orcs with green skin walked into the tavern to the proud roared greetings of their kin. They were both of them carrying a dire-boar that was massive for humans, but just enough to be carried by both of them.
"Throm'ka, Zen'jamba," one of the two Orcs greeted. "We come bearing gifts."
"Taz dingo!" cheered Zen'jamba. "Just in time for da feast. Almost everyone be 'ere."
"Whoa!" Li Li exclaimed as she looked at the boar. "That is a very large pig!"
"Ha! And a fine fight he put up as well," the second Orc stated. He stood somewhat straighter than the other Orc, and was clad in leather, with a hunting spear upon his back.
"Plenty of time for hunting stories once we've had plenty of ale, Kron'gar," the first Orc said.
"Gar'mosh!" Chen said in greeting to the first Orc, bowing to him. "I see that you have a large bag on your back. Did you bring gifts?"
The Orc Gar'mosh nodded. "Mostly food, but a few trinkets worthy of such great warriors."
The little group made their way up the stairs to where they had saved their places. But no sooner had they arrived when the stairs behind them creaked under the heavy hoof-steps of a large Tauren. Turning around, Zen'jamba saw Gar Earthwalker standing there at the top of the stairs.
"Glad ya made it, mon!" Zen'jamba greeted. "Come, 'ave a seat. We be almost ready for da feast."
Gar followed the Troll's lead up to the tables that had been saved for them on the second level. Liddie was regaling Li Li with a story about an engineering assistant of hers who blew himself up while trying to build a shredder. Kron'gar and Gar'mosh we're preparing the boat for the feast; their muscular, green bodies obscuring the hooded figure at the back of their party's tables. Chen, who was almost as tall as Gar and easily heavier, bowed in respect to the shaman before the two of them caught each other up on their adventures. Zen'jamba and Tel'jirza were knocking tusks in a corner by themselves beneath a sprig of mistletoe.
The boar was already roasting upon the spit downstairs and still the last of their guests, according to Liddie, had yet to arrive. Zen'jamba said that they should start without them, but the goblin insisted that they hold out until the very last possible second. Almost another hour passed, and already the fruit-cake was being set at the table, along with plenty of eggnog and Smokeywood Pastures patented Greatfather Winter's Ale (and warm cider for Li Li). The Orcs were already getting impatient and demanding over and over that they start once the boar was finished, as it would soon be. Chen had already downed a whole tankard of Greatfather Winter's Ale and the late-comers hadn't arrived yet. Gar looked over at the hooded figure, who was still keeping a low profile and hadn't introduced themselves yet. He was about to approach her when Kron'gar swore loudly in Orcish.
"Always late!" growled the hunter. "It seems we'll have to have our feast without them."
"Unbelievable!" exclaimed Liddie. "What a wasted investment! Oh well, maybe I can get my gold back for their reservations."
At that very moment, a silver horn was blown just outside the Broken Tusk and an announcer heralded the arrival of the ladies Learrah and Lanael. The group upstairs looked down to see two Blood Elves strut into the Broken Tusk, as aloof as royalty. They were both rather short and had long blonde hair; one was dressed in the robes of a mage, bearing a staff in hand, and her hair tied back. The other was clad in armor and wore her hair down.
"It be about time!" Zen'jamba exclaimed. "Ya be late to da party!"
"Uh, excuse me," Lanael interjected. "We're not late; we're never late. Nothing of any interest starts until we show up."
"Absolutely," nodded Learrah.
"Get on up here!" demanded Kron'gar. "It's time to be merry!"
The Elves ascended the stairs and took their seats nearest the door. With their arrival, the party had begun in verity. Ale and eggnog were passed about freely among them, though Chen made sure that it never came close enough to Li Li; she was about that curious age where she was eager to try new things, but not yet old enough by Pandaren standards for strong drink. The Winter's Veil boar was given out freely to all, and every one of them had plenty. Meat-pies and fruit cake were also added to their fare, which they ate with delight. Chen and Gar exchanged stories over ale, laughing at the humorous details thereof. Liddie was showing off a little toy to Li Li: a tiny Greatfather Winter's flying sled that would shoot up into the air and explode in a tiny burst of red, green, white, and blue sparks. Learrah and Lanael talked with the Orcs or among themselves, but gave no heed to the Trolls. All the while, the hooded one ate very little, said nothing, and ate none of the meat dishes.
After everyone had eaten quite a bit, Zen'jamba spoke up.
"Tomorra," he said. "Dere be presents beneath da Winter's Veil tree here in Orgrimmah. But for today, dere be a special gift for one among us."
Only Tel'jirza knew exactly what Zen'jamba was planning; a knowing smile appeared on her face.
"Gar?" Zen'jamba said, turning to the Tauren. "Dis be your first present. An old friend be returned to ya."
The hooded figure stood up and motioned for the Tauren to approach. Whoever this figure was, it was almost six and a half feet tall. Gar approached the figure and bowed his head to it. Hands reached up and removed the hood from off the head. Beneath the hood was what appeared to be an elf with long red hair, fair skin, and violet eyes.
"Well met, champion," she greeted.
"Era," Gar gasped. "I...I haven't seen you in months."
"It was most appropriate that I return today," Aerastrasza replied. "For what better way to honor the rebirth of all living things than the feast of Winter's Veil?"
"Why did you leave?" he asked. "And what brought you back?"
"The druids here convinced me to return," quoth Era. "As for my departure, that is the matter of another story." She then turned to those gathered with them.
"Friends," she said. "It has been a hard and trying year, since the Burning Legion's return to Azeroth. Many dark days still lie ahead for us. But let us not forget the hope and promise of new things. The darkness will pass, and the circle continues. May the Life-binder bless all of you this coming year. Happy Winter's Veil."
"Happy Winter's Veil!" they shouted in return.
(AN: There we go, the end of this very short and for-fun fic.)
(I wonder where I should go with this Warcraft universe next. I have a story to tell that I mentioned before, but it might be too controversial to be published. Then again, we met so many people here, I wonder which of them you'd like to see more of [if any]. Feel free to comment on this and have a Happy Winter's Veil [and a Happy New Year!])