An elf stood nervously at the huge, gaping gates of Orgrimmar. The air was stifling, though the hot wind gusted heavily, blowing sand and debris in tiny microbursts along the ground. The smell of stale earth and dry heat wafted to her nose. The land was desolate and had been raped of rainfall for what seemed many years. The only plant life to be seen was covered in spines and thorns.
The elf was covered from head to toe in a thick velvet-like cloak covering her entire face and body. It was beautiful, with navy and violet swirling harmoniously together and meshing faint colors of green and turquoise. The cloak ran the length of her slender, yet muscular body. Nothing but the tips of her ears could be seen which protruded slightly from holes in the cloak's hood. Her face, hidden in the mysterious dark, deep beneath the thick, velvet capuche.
She took a deep breath and let it out ever-so slowly to calm her nerves. Then, decisively began to walk towards the gates. The guards, though watchful, remained motionless upon her approach. Though this did little to ease her mind. Their chainmail armor tinkled quietly in the scorching breeze. She walked past them through the front gate and was immediately bathed in darkness from the huge walls blocking out the scorching sun. The thick, stone walls were dingy. They were covered in dirt from sandstorms and grime from neglect of proper care for ages. She walked on.
As she rounded a corner, the walls opened up to a vast outside market. The distant sound of industry could be heard from somewhere off to the west. There was rhythmic clanging of metal on metal, then a pause, followed by a loud hiss. Likely a blacksmith anvil being hammered and steamers, she thought to herself.
The stench of stale air, sweat, and filth filled her nostrils making her nauseous. Creatures of all shapes and sizes busied themselves along the streets. The square was a cacophony of eerie laughter from goblins clinking gold in their moneybags and anger-induced arguments that resonated throughout the square. There were a few brawls breaking out with riotous yelling coming from different corners of the pavilion. One such brawl was accompanied by the unmistakable clang of metal weapons striking together at great force.
The elf continued forward, away from the entrance. There was a large building in the center of the square that was not unlike a bank vault. And there were several dingy buildings along the outskirts of the area that appeared to be pubs. Most of the shouting, the elf found, was coming from a large building on the north side of the terrace. This building was nothing more than stones stacked in a large circle and covered with animal hides and leathers for a roof. There was no door on the structure; just a large hole where stones were never filled in. It was crowded with hundreds of beings pushing and shoving and holding up grimy hands grasping money pouches and merchandise. She would keep her distance from there, she thought.
Towards the north side of the market there was another stone hallway that led out of the square. She put her head down and headed that way. She was deep within the city now and began to feel very aware of eyes on her. A few elves could be seen here and there but each of them seemed eager to complete their business quickly and did not seem at ease with the brutal nature of the city dwellers.
As she came into the hallway, the elf was again covered in shadow from the tall walls and the hide covering rooftops above. She was now in a narrow alley with many small connected buildings. Through a dirt-spotted window, the elf could see a goblin cutting a brilliant, shimmering cloth that seemed out of place in its surroundings. The horrid smell of burning goo and singed hair came from a building to the left that bore a sign of what looked like just a large chunk of meat. As she came around a slight bend in the alley, she could see all the way to the end of the street. There was a large opening and a tremendous, heavily-guarded building straight ahead of her. That was her destination and she knew it.
She quickened her pace and headed for the entrance but then noticed a shadowed, cloaked figure walking a few paces behind her. She had the disturbing feeling that the reason she was aware of this figure's presence was by intent. Her unease bloomed in her gut but she swallowed it down and continued forward. He walked just in her peripheral vision and kept her pace easily, stepping lightly and silently. The only thing visible from underneath his thick, leathery hood was a long, blue scabby nose and two huge, protruding yellow tusks; each of which were adorned with thick metal rings with sharp rusted spikes. He carried an axe and a dagger with long handles clad on each hip. Each weapon fit snug to his side in thick handcrafted leather holsters. The elf's keen sense of smell told her he also carried with him some form of foul chemicals. She had heard others speak of trolls, and seen them in books, but nothing more.
She did not speak to him, nor he to her as they left the alley and were once again bathed in sunlight. She walked with her newfound escort to the stairway of the building and briefly stopped. The troll stopped as well. Guardsmen were standing at the mount of the stairs with their weapons held out to block anyone's path who attempted to enter. These orcs were much the same as the front gate guardsmen. Clad in chainmail with their long battle axes.
A moment passed when it seemed almost silent. No one moved or possibly even breathed. Then, the guards standing atop the stairs at the doorway relinquished their large war-ridden axes that opened a pathway inside.
Pooling her courage, the elf then started up the stairway; as did the silent rogue. The elf walked through the tall front doors and into the great hall. Many armored orcs lined the gray walls that were bare besides a few mounted torches flickering with dancing flames. There was a long crud-covered carpet that was clearly a nod to show royalty leading up to a large gaudy throne made of stone, gold and other metals the elf could not place.
Upon the throne sat an enormous orc. At least the elf thought he was an orc. His scaly, dry skin was a deep shade of pink that she had never seen on any orc before. Most of the guards and other orcs she'd seen within the city had green or brown skin.
The orc was bare-chested. His face was set in a permanent glower and his thick, jaw jutted out emphasizing his massive mandibular tusks that he had protruding from his mouth. Each of the larger cutters were adorned with silver metal rings. He also had a septum piercing that accentuated his large nostrils; the ring entering and exiting from both sides of his nose.
His rubicund skin was chiseled with muscles and covered with swirling tattoos running the length of his chest and arms. He wore thick, padded britches that were covered with heavy plate legguards. He also had an ornately-smithed belt with a skull that covered most of his abdomen. The skull's empty eye sockets, staring forward eerily, seemed to bore into the elf's very soul.
Beside the massive orc, lay 2 very well-crafted hand axes. Both their hilts and their blades bearing jagged edges, ready for eviscerating their foe. The rear of the blades were ornamented with what looked like a row of sharp animal teeth. The pommel of the weapons were decorated with ivory, metal and hide. The blades themselves were well-forged in a glistening metal that beheld an off-world essence to them; a metal from another land. These weapons were clean, but very well-used.
As the elf surveyed the scene in the expanding silence, she shuddered as she wondered to herself why this orc was dressed in his battle garb. The implications of this thought were unsettling. However, she focused on the task at hand and stood tall in front of the room of onlookers.
The orc atop the throne sat with a brooding, yet steadfast demeanor. He stared at the elf as did everyone else in the hall. No one moved, or acknowledged her arrival, but she felt all eyes were definitely upon her. All activities seemed to cease as she approached the throne.
There was a small stairway leading up to the dais with two more armed orc guards standing motionless at the bottom. There, she stopped just out of reach of their long battle axes. The troll had stopped near the entrance way of the room and stood leaning against the wall but still allowing his presence to be known. He had unsheathed his dagger and casually cleaned his long grotesque fingernails that extended out of his fingerless gauntlets.
She stood motionless, patiently waiting to be acknowledged before speaking. The silence was palpable, the room thick with tension. Finally, the orc granted her reprieve and broke the silence. He narrowed his piercing, dark yellow eyes and spoke.
"Why have you approached the Throne of the Warchief, elf?", the orc said in a deep, growling voice.
Championing her nerves, the elf replied, "I am looking for Thrall," she said in a strong noble voice.
The pinkish orc upon the throne studied her for a moment, his eyes unblinking and his nostrils flaring as he breathed. After a moment, he shifted his weight in the stone chair and sat up slightly, then said, "Your dialect is odd for an elf, Stranger. Where have you come from?"
"I come from a distant land on an urgent errand and it is imperative that I speak with Thrall straight away," she replied.
"You have found him," the orc said and extended his arms motioning to himself while he bowed his head slightly.
"I beg your pardon, orc but I do not have time for play. I must speak with Warchief Thrall. Many lives may depend on it," the elf said firmly.
The orc roared with anger and slammed his hand down hard upon the armrest of the throne with a loud bang. "How DARE you insult me, ELF! You do not value your life, then? You come into MY hall and make demands, then insult my integrity?!" he yelled.
"My point was not to insult, Highness. But as I have stated, I am in somewhat of a hurry to speak with him, and it has come to my land that Thrall is a great Shaman. Furthermore, if I may be so bold, you bear the physique of one who uses strength in battle. I understand that Thrall can wield the power of the elements and that he carries a totem with him. Please, I must speak with him," she said.
The orc scowled at her menacingly and she could hear armor clinking around the room where the guards shifted with anticipation; the hooded rogue, still deeply involved with his grimy fingers.
"Thrall is not here," the orc said dismissively.
"Where is he? When do you expect him back?" said the elf with a hint of urgency. "I have a message for him from Storm--," she caught herself quickly, then continued. "I have a message for him."
The orc raised a hairy eyebrow. He spoke, his voice now slow and deliberate; emphasizing each syllable. "'Storm'- what?" he demanded, narrowing his yellow eyes into slits. The orc's teeth gnashed dangerously as he awaited her response.
The elf's heart began to hammer in her chest. This was not going at all according to plan. Where was Thrall? She knew that her only option now was to try and retreat as quickly as possible. She also knew the odds of her successfully escaping from this situation were very, very low.
Before she could speak, the rogue had appeared at her back. His great exposed nose drawing in a raspy breath from her neck. "Dis one reeks of nature and beasts of deh forest," he hissed with an air of triumph in his voice. "It be weird, elf, dat joo do not be stinking of arcane powduh and expensive wine like most o' your long-eared addict friends. And I be bettin' dat bulge on your side ain't a dagger either but an heirloomed mace. Tell me, Elf, would dat cudgel's handle be crafted from some sort of ancient tree?"
This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.
In one swift movement, the rogue ripped the elf's hood back, tearing it down the seams. The rip now exposed her head and most of her left shoulder and arm. Her long, flowing violet hair spilled out of her cloak and down her back in wavy wisps. The elf's dark pink skin along with several hieroglyphic tattoos, running from her shoulder to her elbow, now fully visible to all within the room.
There was a moment of confusion as everyone in the room scrambled. The High Orc called out to his subjects to seize the elf and the all stammered forward. The troll grinned smugly as he held his dagger at the elf's throat. Then without warning, the elf completely vanished from view.
The troll looked around frantically. He was momentarily confused by her sudden disappearance, but recovered quickly, "She be a druid My Liege!" cried the troll. "I followed her tru most o' deh citeh. She blatantly walked straight tru deh front gates! She is here to spy on us and learn de layout of our city! She insults us wit' her presence!"
"Find the coward and bring her to me! I want her ALIVE!" the orc bellowed.
At that moment a tremendous roar echoed throughout the hall and in the blink of an eye an enormous black cat with glowing runes on its haunches leapt from the shadows. These runes looked exactly the same as the runes that had been on the elf's shoulder mere moments ago.
The great cat pounced on the orc leader, knocking him completely off the throne. He fell backwards with a yelp and hit his head on the hard stone staircase. He lay there for a moment, eyes wide with shock. Then, his yellow eyes rolled in his head and he collapsed, unconscious.
Then, the panther turned quickly on the two dais guards. The first of the two to attack, swung his axe down hard. But the agile cat was quick to dodge, and the axe clanged noisily as it struck the stone floor, sending sparks flying as it did. The massive cat swatted the jab from the second dais guard away with her great paw.
Seizing this opportunistic moment, the black cat lunged at the first of the dais guards and sunk her long front fangs into his right arm. The guard screamed in pain and struggled to wrench himself free of her hold. In the process, he dropped his weapon and began pounding at her snout with his left fist in an attempt to make her release him.
It worked. She unclenched her jaw, releasing the orc, who grabbed his injured arm with his good hand, and scrambled back several feet. She spun back to the second guard who was now taking another swing at her.
She tried to dodge this blow as well, but was only half successful. She managed to miss most of the blade, but the axe still grazed her right shoulder. She hissed menacingly at the orc as she winced through the pain, then lunged at him.
The orc tried to pull his axe back in time to parry her counterattack, but thus was the caveat to wielding two-handed weapons. When you attacked with both hands, it was easy to leave yourself exposed. This time she attacked with one of her massive paws, catching the guard on the side of the head and sending him sprawling to the floor.
The cat looked around quickly, searching for a quick way out, but she saw that three other guards from the hall bore down upon her. Other guards were still taking up positions, and the rogue was nowhere to be seen. She was going to be quickly overrun if she did not get out of there soon.
She backed into a corner and took a deep breath to concentrate. Her form began to fade into the shadows, but as this was happening a city guard hurled a hand axe towards her, striking the big cat on its left side. She yowled in pain and slumped to the floor; blood seeping from her side coating her fur with thick, red blood.
The orcs cheered but even as they did something strange began to happen. The panther's body began to change before them. First, its skin turned an even darker color. Then, the cat stood up on its hind legs, stretching its front paws towards the ceiling awkwardly. Its paws began to spread like the limbs of a tree as the cat's entire body also hardened like bark. A green glow now emitted from the great cat as it now completely resembled an oddly-shaped tree standing inside the great hall.
The orcs stood in bewilderment, unsure of what to do. After a moment, the limbs began to quiver and shake. There were now eight guards in the hall; two tending to the unconscious leader, the two injured dais guards, and four others closing in on the tree.
Suddenly, bits of rock and stone were torn away from the floor as four of the remaining guards were engulfed in thick roots and vines slithering like serpents up from underneath their feet. They screamed in panic and pain as the roots pulled them taut to the ground. The room was then filled with sounds of thunder, and great lightning bolts shot down through the thick ceiling, striking the four incapacitated guards. Each of them fell dully to the floor; mouths agape, showing rows of rotting yellowed teeth within.
The druid had taken her natural form once again, revealing that the wound in her side was now fully healed. She stood with her back to the wall, with the remaining two guards that had been tending to their leader, now advancing on her. She quickly took her right hand and clasped it tightly on one of the runes on her left arm shouting an incantation and her body quickly began to cover in fur and grow in size.
Her face stretched out into a long snout filled with huge, menacing fangs. And her hands grew to the size of boat paddles; each finger equipped with a huge serrated claw several inches long. Once the transformation was complete, the shape of a great rune-covered bear stood where the elf had been. It's massive, brown body towering over the remaining orcs.
Without hesitation the bear roared as it charged the two guards, swatting her great paws in a frenzy. The sickening sound of metal crunching could be heard as she hit both guards square at their shoulder blades and knocked them both against the wall.
She turned and looked back at the throne and saw the unconscious leader still unmoving. Now, one of the injured dais guards was sitting over the leader. The guard was the one she had bitten. His bloodied, right arm hung limply by his side. The other injured dais guard was still on the floor, leaning against the wall looking dazed.
The great bear began to pad towards the three of them. The one tending to the leader grabbed for his battleaxe with his one good hand, but the bear swatted it easily. She stared at him for a moment, waiting to see if he'd attack. When he didn't she looked at the unconscious leader.
She approached the fallen orc and nudged its head with the back of one of her massive paws. He stirred. The dais guard looked as if he wanted to protest, but made no advance.
"Hellscream? You are the one they call Hellscream, are you not?" the bear asked. The voice was very deep and commanding, but the dialect was still in that of the elf. The unconscious leader groaned as he began to come to.
The bear breathed out slowly and as it did, its great body transformed back into the pinkish flesh of the elf. "We do not have to venture down this path, Garrosh. It is my wish that we talk in peace. I only wish to speak to Thrall of the Maelstrom in the distant seas. It has become a danger to us all. It has grown in strength and has become more turbulent," she said.
The orc slowly turned his head towards her and a wicked grin grew slowly across his face. "You think Thrall is unaware of the goings on in the great seas, Elf? He is the greatest shaman that has walked Azeroth. Why do you think he is not here? As you can see we need not discuss anything further."
At that moment the orc glanced past the elf and behind her. Reacting quickly she swung her head to the side narrowly missing the sharp point of a dagger being thrust at her neck. She whirled around just in time to see the troll swinging his axe at her with his other hand. She flipped backwards with great agility over his crouching body and landed softly on her feet behind him. She then began to hum a song that was both majestic and sad. The melody was beautiful and it seemed to relax the air around them. The troll and Hellscream began to sway slightly with the melody and their eyes became unfocused. Their mouths opening slightly in an odd--almost childish--manner as they sat there entranced by the night elf's song. The night elf backed away a few yards while still singing then quickly touched a rune on her forearm and her Elvin body was transformed into a great cat. This time, however, it was not the great panther from before. This cat was sleek and agile and built for great speed. Its body was cream and speckled with dark brown spots. The cat tore out of the building and darted towards the alley.
The trance lost its hold on the warrior and rogue quickly, and they jumped to their feet in pursuit of the night elf. The elf was very near the alley by now and she heard the angry shouts of Hellscream as she rounded the first bend. Passersby watched as she raced towards the front gates and many of them joined the chase as well.
The cheetah's claws dug into the dirty earth and she kicked hard with her muscular back legs. Her muscles ached with tension as she bounded in great strides, quickly covering long ground with each gate. A barrage of arrows, throwing axes, and stones now pummeled the ground all around her. She swerved and zigzagged, trying to avoid them. She could see the light at the end of the alleyway. She was almost near the market. Lowering her head, she kicked off harder and sprinted full-out to the entranceway.
The cheetah burst out of the alley and into the sunlight. Many orcs, goblins and creatures that looked like zombies stopped what they were doing, surprised by the sudden appearance of the cat and its pursuers. Some of the gawkers dropped their belongings in surprise and scattered, while others grabbed for their weapons to aid the chase.
As the night elf ran on, her breath became deep and ragged as exhaustion began to set in. She had to make it to the gates. Then, she could find shelter to hide outside the city. She glanced back and saw many creatures on her heels. Even animals had joined the fray. A myriad of predatory beasts were now giving chase to the druid. Hyenas, bears, scorpions, wolves and even prehistoric-looking creatures snarled and snapped angrily at her heels.
One of the druid's pursuers was an enormous lizard-looking creature that ran on its hind legs. To the elf's horror, she recognized it; a raptor. These beasts were known to be fierce predators and extremely swift. This raptor was a teal blue color with deep blue stripes lining its neck, back, and tail. Elliptical, yellow eyes peered out from beneath a maroon-colored ornate faceguard that it wore. Those eyes were trained on the cheetah; locked in with a predatory ferocity unrivaled by most. The creature's powerful hind legs pumped hard to help it keep pace with its prey.
The raptor's jaws clapped audibly as it snapped at the cheetah's heels, trying to catch it or knock it off balance. It snarled and growled a guttural, savage growl as it did so. Each time the large lizard lunged, the gaping mouth showed rows of razor-sharp teeth that could shred flesh from bone.
Atop the armored raptor sat the rogue, his nostrils flaring wildly as his vicious steed galloped on, slowly gaining ground on the night elf. The troll's eyes were once again obscured from view underneath the hood but the elf could imagine they were filled with anger, hate and a thirst for revenge.
The elf rounded the central building in the terrace and now saw the front gate 100 yards in front of her. She was almost home free. The guards standing at the gate gripped their axes tightly, and braced for an encounter from the huge cat bearing down on them. The elf readjusted her path and bounded easily up a vendor cart sitting near the entrance. The goblin attending the cart squealed in panic as she was tossed backwards. Cooked meat, leather water skins, and several other random items were sent flying in every direction. The great cat leapt off the cart and soared above the guards--easily out of each of their flailing axes. She landed softly on the other side of guards and kicked off towards the main entrance of the city.
She ran hard. She was almost out of the main gate. Just one turn and she could find shade. At that moment a large puff of smoke and a loud bang erupted from the ground in front of her. Her world turned dizzily in all directions. A bright white light exploded in her eyes and rendered her temporarily blind. She could not see anything but flashes of black and white.
Her ears rang loudly from the explosion of the flash bang. She tumbled forward rolling hard and slamming into the gate wall and lay sprawled awkwardly on her side. She tried to get up and continue running. Behind the ringing, she could hear her pursuers closing in on her now, but she could not find her feet. She stumbled clumsily around in circles trying to feel her way out of the city gates, but it was no use. It was over. She had failed.
She felt the heavy weight as a net was tossed over her and she instantly became entangled in the web of thick hempen ropes. She heard many footsteps running past her to block her way to freedom. She then sat down and tried to make sense of her surroundings as her vision began to come back to her.
She blinked through the blurry vision and saw snippets of a jet-black wolf with crimson armor and saddle approaching her. "You will pay for your insolence ELF!" the orc atop the wolf cried. It was none other than Hellscream. "Your venture through the city will cost you your life!"
The elf sat motionless. There was no escape. She had known this could be the cost of her coming here, and that there would be very little possibility of return. And yet, that had not changed her mind about accepting the mission.
Beside the black wolf, stood the raptor. The troll hopped off of his tooth-filled, snarling mount and landed without a sound on the dirt-covered ground. He advanced quickly on the trapped night elf unsheathing his dagger adroitly. In one swift move he grabbed the cat by the nose through the net and placed the weapon at her throat. "You gonna be sorreh for dat hexin' ye be puttin' on meh. I be showing you a little voodoo of my own, Beasty. How ya like dat dose of flash powder up yer snout, eh?"
"Easy, Bladetusk. I will give you your chance to avenge yourself, but we have much to discuss with this filth first. Take her to the keep! We will interrogate her the orcish way!" Garrosh Hellscream bellowed to the cheers and shouts of the crowd around them.
Bladetusk released his hold and backed up as the guards scooped up the net's ends, binding the entangled feline within, and drug her cruelly through the city towards the hold. The crowd poked and prodded at her with sticks while the cat swung helplessly with her paws trying to block the blows. She hissed menacingly bearing her long fangs to no avail as the onlookers continued their abuse the entire way to the cells beneath the keep in the rear of the city.
To be continued....