Author's notes:
2021-07-20: Hey, I would like to share a short preview of the new story regarding Sylvanas Windrunner. I hope for feedback, no matter whether positive or negative. As long as it is constructive, I will appreciate every comment :)
2021-07-25: Hey, the finished chapter is here. Please, let me know what do you think.
Note: The dialogue is taken out of the wow cinematic, so the wording is exactly as it was presented there. In the future, I would not expect to try to mimic troll's language, but who knows.
As always, I would like to thank you for everything. See you soon :)
Changelog:
[2021-07-20]: A preview was released.
[2021-07-25]: The chapter was fully released.
Info: The winner of the previous poll was 'My home is where my heart lies'. From now on, I would like you to decide what will be writen. The new poll has been already created and the link can be found at the end of the section.
Schedule for the nearest future:
1. My home is where my heart lies (a long, possibly 10k + words chapter).
Bonuses' section:
A new story taking place in the Warhammer 40k universe.
A story regarding KaiKali (aka Akali x Kai'sa) (Will you look past my mistakes?).
Sometimes it's just better not to know (possibly rewrite).
Kiss the rain (more than likely rewrite).
Whispers in the Dark (extending beyond 2 chapters story).
Story of one lost soul (translation of 2 of my old texts - previously written in polish).
Story of one lost soul: The war call: rewrite.
*bonuses will be worked on when I don't feel like writing the chapters pointed out in the schedule :D
** It is possible for me to change the schedule a little. So stay tuned for the upcoming information.
Vote poll:
Service: strawpoll
Hash: fw9wf77ay
End of author's notes.
When the gates of the Grommash Hold slowly began to open, the white as snow vapours started to pour out of the ever-growing crevice. The chaos overtook control over the heart of Horde ever since they had returned from the failed attempt of stopping the Burning Legion's invasion before it had been initiated for good. The city of the heroes became quiet, only filled with mourning and silent prayers for their leader. But, unfortunately, the leader's physicians agreed on one thing; Vol'jin's chances of surviving were slim. The wounds inflicted by the weapons forged in the Burning Legion's furnaces were rarely recoverable. Everyone knew it; they could only wait for the warchief to announce his successor. It was the final burden, the final task, and Vol'jin must face it alone. Who was to say whether, after his inevitable demise, he would have been granted the peace in the afterlives.
Sylvanas Windrunner – the Banshee Queen – was annoyed with the current chaos spreading across Orgrimmar. She had spent the last couple of hours fruitlessly trying to salvage the situation. But, sadly, her efforts seemed to be in vain. The fear had already crept its way into the mortals' hearts, poisoning them, making them weak. And… if there was a thing that Sylvanas despised above all else, it was weakness.
She had been summoned to join the council far later than she had anticipated; however, it did not seem to matter much right now. The sweet stink of death already filled the warchief's throne room. The Banshee Queen was sure that the troll had only a couple of minutes left before the death would claim him. It must have been the reason why they had waited so long. They would not have sent for her if there had been time still.
The hold's interior was raw. The vapours were coming from numerous candles and incense that also provided the light. It was hot and stuffy here. The sweat could be easily spotted pearling on the other leaders' brows.
As expected, Vol'jin's wounds did not look good. The mixture of blood and bile had already soaked through the bandages. She could smell the stink coming from the gall; these wounds were not going to heal. Instead, the warchief's insides were slowly but steadily decaying, consumed by whatever had been put on the Legion's minions blades.
Before Horde leader, the other leaders stood, grouped into two lines. They left the middle part of the throne room free, allowing Sylvanas a direct path toward the dying troll.
"Windrunner," Vol'jin uttered slowly. He coughed again, spitting secretion consisted of blood and something she could not name. "Come forward," he added, taking shallow, ragged breaths.
"Warchief," the Banshee Queen replied with her usual emotionless, rich tone.
"Da Loa spirits say death," the warchief started in a weak voice, "will claim me soon."
"In the end, death claims us all," the Forsaken leader responded, allowing herself to avert her gaze off of Vol'jin for a moment. "But, the Horde will live on," she added confidently, once again fixing her red eyes upon the dying man.
"I… have never… trusted you," the troll managed to utter in a slightly risen voice. It was evident that his life was near its end; his strengths were failing him. "Nor… would I have… ever imagined… in our darkest time… that you… would be da one to save… us," he added. He no longer cared for the death stare that the banshee was sending toward him. After all, he would not be a part of this world soon.
"Da spirits have… granted me… clarity," he resumed after a couple of moments of pause. "A vision… dey whisper a name. Many will not… unda'stand. But… you must… step out of da shadows… and lead. You must be… Warchief," with his last breath, he managed to state.
The surprised and confused banshee kept staring at Vol'jin's dead body. Many around her were fixing their gazes upon Sylvanas regarding the events that had just unfolded. To some… it seemed to be a reasonable choice; however, to others, the new fear arisen.
"What is your order, Warchief?" Theron Lor'themar asked after a couple of moments of silence. "Shall we start the preparation for Vol'jin's burial?"
"No burial will be performed," Sylvanas slowly answered, turning around to face the other leaders. "Let there be no mound of Vol'jin."
"But… Warchief, his deeds simply can not be discarded!" Baine Bloodhoof protested loudly. "It would be a crime to deny him his honours!" he stated.
"He will not be denied any honours," the Banshee Queen uttered coldly, fixing her bloody-red eyes on the taurens' leader. "He will be honoured as the heroes of old; his remains will be burnt. He is not bound to Orgrimmar. Wherever and whenever Horde will need his guidance, he will be present. The ashes will be spread across the world, making him ever-present and immortal," she added confidently.
"Your will shall be done," Lor'themar exclaimed.
"Meet me before the very gate of the city. There we will bid our farewell to Vol'jin," the banshee said. "But… for now, be gone. I need some time for myself… alone," she demanded.
"As you wish, Warchief," the leaders' response was voiced by Baine. "We will start the preparation; come brothers, there is much to be done," he said toward the rest of the council.
It took them more than a couple of prolonged moments to exit the Grommash Hold. The troll's body was carried away, carried in the strong arms of the taurens' leader. Then, finally, she was left alone in the throne room. But… was it really the case? In the shadows, there seemed to be constant movement.
"You can enter the light," Sylvanas uttered quietly, looking at the throne. The furniture bore the signs of its previous owner. The mixture of blood and bile could be easily spotted in some areas. If she had been still alive, maybe just maybe, she would have been affected by it. However, her existence as a living thing was long gone.
Slowly, the shapes started to enter the ring of light. Dozens if not more of hooded characters. Her dark rangers answered her call. It pleased the dark lady. After all, obedience was something that she required of her servants.
As the very last, Nathanos Blightcaller exited the shadows. As the lone one, he had his heavy hood pulled back. The dead, crimson-red eyes were left on full display. The call was heeded; now, he waited for his next task.
"As you have witnessed, our plans got slightly more complicated by the events unfolded. However, it presents new possibilities for us," the banshee started speaking. "Our goals are not changed. Even though the path leading to them might have. I expect you to work as precisely, efficiently as before. Did I make myself clear, my dear dark rangers?" she asked, looking around.
There was no response to be heed. Instead, all of the gathered rangers simply bowed, waiting for instructions. And… instructions they got. The confident, quiet voice of Sylvanas Windrunner filled the throne room for the better part of the next minutes.
Soon enough, the crimson-red skies faded away, replaced by the darkness of the night. The fire was consuming Vol'jin's remains slowly but steadily, casting the yellowish-red light in a small circle around the pyre. The Banshee Queen stood right next to the fire as the only one. It was her privilege and duty to bid her farewell to her predecessor. She could see the bones beginning to crackdown under the heat. The stink of the melting fat filled the air, making at least a couple of people standing in the crowd behind her, coughing. These were the final moments of Vol'jin on this world. Just a couple of seconds more, and his remains will vanish entirely, turned into the air, carried by the wind.
"Vol'jin is dead," she started quietly, facing the burning fire. Then, she slowly turned around to face the crowd of the mourners united in the grief. "Who among you will help me avenge him?" she threw the question toward the warriors of the Horde.
"For the Vol'jin! For the Horde!" the imminent roars erupted out of the mob. The night was quickly filled with chants, battle cries. The Horde was going on the warpath.
Sylvanas Windrunner turned her back on the loud crowd. Finally, the delicate plan that had been sewed up for a really long time had been put into motion. The dominoes effect had been initialised. It pleased her. Whilst hidden from the eyes of the Horde brutes, she allowed herself to smirk under the hood. Everything was going according to the plan.
"Who is responsible for this farce?" the freshly promoted Warchief asked publically. She did not yell, nor roar, nor shout. Instead, she used her signature deep, annoyed, quiet tone. "Who has allowed these… puppets of Legion to infiltrate our home?" she asked another question, steadily walking on the pedestal.
"My Lady," Nathanos called her before bowing. "The captain of the guards was slain by the demons," he informed her. "His men suffered heavy casualties as well."
"I see, Blightcaller," the banshee replied, giving a small node. "This orc's mistake cost many their very lives; do not make the same mistake, or you will be faced with my wrath if the death does not claim you first," she added. "The Horde is entering the warpath. From now on, our sole purpose is to defeat the Legion!" the queen announced.
"Go forth, my legions," she uttered toward the warriors. "Go forth, and bring the victory!"
Once again, the loud roars filled the air. Soon enough, the crackling of the armours and the sounds of heavy footsteps mixed with it, making a cacophonic result.
"Might I add something, my lady?" Nathanos asked as soon as the core of the Horde forces left.
"Speak up, Nathanos," the banshee uttered, her tone indicating that she was annoyed.
"What do you plan to do with the Alliance, my queen?"
"The plan was already revealed inside the Grommash Hold," Sylvanas responded, fixing her crimson-red eyes upon her champion. "Or… is there something that you did not inform me about?"
"Wrynn's cub became the new king," the Blightcaller said. "It seemed that they value royal blood over experience and wisdom," he allowed himself to make a comment.
"So it seems," Windrunner replied. "Yet, I doubt that it is really the reason why you bothered me. What intel do you have, Nathanos?"
"Dalaran is calling for our help," he said, smirking openly. "They promised to resume our position inside Dalaran. They have already sent their plea to the ex-members of the conclave."
"Is Proudmoore no longer the leader of the floating city?" the banshee wanted to know.
"There are rumours that she got into a fight with the little lion," the dark lady's champion stated.
"Interesting," Sylvanas hummed, cupping her jaw. "It is valuable intel, Blightcaller. However, I must remind you to remember your place in the line. Step over it, and my wrath will be unleashed upon you," the Warchief coldly added before turning around and started walking toward the city gates.