Awakening

              Silver eyes opened slowly, blinking in the dim glow of the magical lights that illuminated the room. The world spun for a moment as dizziness threatened to reclaim consciousness, but like it had so many times in the past two days, it eventually trailed off, leaving Malandrae staring up at the delicate arching stone supports of the ceiling above her. This time was different though, this time she didn’t immediately feel the exhaustion that had been a constant companion come to claim her. Instead, she felt more energetic, more alive, than she had in some time and she detected the aroma of something delicious in the air around her.

                Very carefully, she sat up, choking back the dizzy feeling that returned with the movement. Once it was passed, she looked around, taking note of her surroundings. She was in a huge, lush bed which was covered with fine silken sheets. The room itself was exquisite, the walls made of some polished marble with decorated columns built into the walls that rose up to support the arches she’d been staring at in her brief moments of consciousness.

                The furniture within the room was as nice as the bed in which she was laying, the intricately decorated and expensive wood polished to a shine and further embellished with golden trim. There was a writing desk and chair, an armoire, and several bookcases as well as two ornate doors made of similar wood built into the stone walls of the room. The floor was covered with a carpet that looked like it was made of the rarest of exotic fabrics. A small nightstand stood beside the bed, and upon it was the source of the delicious aroma; someone had put fresh muffins and a cup of steaming hot tea by the bedside.

                Malandrae hesitated for only the moment it took for her to realized she’d been put in a silken nightgown and that her hair had been taken out of its traditional high pigtails before she reached over and snatched up a muffin, stuffing nearly the entire thing into her mouth. The moment the food touched her tongue she realized just how ravenously hungry she was. As she ate, a small glimmer of magic detached itself from one of the glowing orbs that kept the room lit, the spell hovering over her for a minute before zipping away and through a nearby door.

                Moments later footsteps could be heard outside the door and the portal opened with barely a whisper, a silver-haired Highborne slipping into the room and closing the door behind her gently. She smiled when she saw Malandrae eating, and slowly made her way over to the bedside, pulling the chair up beside it and taking a seat.

                “Kerriel!” Malandrae exclaimed happily, crumbs tumbling from her mouth and down her nightgown. She paused to take a long gulp of tea before speaking again. “I’m so glad you’re here! I’m feeling so much better than I was!”

                The elf she referred to as Kerriel offered her a smile and a nod, reaching out to touch her friend’s forehead to check for fever, “I’m glad to hear that, Malandrae. And please, call me Biara. I’ve not gone by that name in such a very long time. It’s good to hear it, but there are reasons why it should not be spoken.”

                Malandrae smiled and nodded, “Oh I totally understand! My brother is still alive you know!”

                Biara blinked once and then nodded slowly, “Yes, I’ve been aware of that for some centuries now. I’m surprised you know it, but then, maybe I should not be so surprised given that you somehow survived the end of the world and look like no time has passed you at all.”

                Malandrae offered her friend a grin, “But you look terrible!” She giggled at this and then shook her head, “I’m just kidding of course! But you were disguised as a pink elf! I had no idea it was you until…well, you know.”

                Biara nodded, “I know. And I’m sorry for deceiving you. When we met the few times previously, I could not possibly believe it was you that I was seeing. After all these countless centuries thinking you were dead, and yet…there you were! I thought it was some trick by your family to lure me out, so I kept my disguise in place. If I had known it was really you…by the Queen, if I had known you’d survived at all I’d have come to get you right away. You know that, don’t you, Mal?”

                Malandrae reached out and patted her friend’s knee before stuffing another muffin in her face. After a few moments of silent chewing she spoke through the crumbs, “I know Ker- er…Biara. I know you would have come to help. There was no way for me to tell you though. After you were banished, I had no idea where you’d gone. I was forbidden from looking for you. And then…well, you know what happened to everything.”

                “Yes, I understand, Mal,” Biara said softly. “What matters is that you are here now and you are starting to mend. I’ve been living amongst the Sin’dorei for so long, but there were none of our people amongst them. I’ve not spoken to another from our time in so very long.”

                “I’m super sorry about making you ruin your disguise,” Malandrae said with some sorrow in her voice. “I know that probably upset you a lot. Your pink elf friend Kyliska was so mad. You really should not have done that for me.”

                Biara waved her hand, “Nonsense. You held my hand in my darkest hour and there was no way I was going to let you slip away when it was within my power to help you. Kyli…I will miss her dearly. I fear she will never understand why I lied to her. I honestly did consider her to be my sister, even if she doesn’t believe it now. I would have done anything for her. Anything but let you pass away. We’ve been friends for thousands of years, even if much time has passed since those days. I will always stand by your side.”

                Malandrae smiled at her and squeezed her knee, “And I’ll always stand by yours too! Um, just out of curiosity, where is Elisandrae? Does she live somewhere else now? And where are we?”

                Biara’s face grew troubled and she rose from her chair, turning away from Malandrae and pacing the room, “Elisandrae…passed away long ago. During the Sundering. There was nothing I could do to save her. I was able to scoop my grandson, Killdrae, to safety before the end but Eli…my sweet Eli…I couldn’t get to her in time.”

                Malandrae’s face fell and she stifled a sniffle, “I’m so sorry, Biara. I didn’t know…your poor daughter. If I had known, if there was something I could have done…”

                “It is not your fault, Mal,” Biara said, turning back towards her friend and offering her a half-smile. “You could not have known what the Queen would do. None of us did. I lived here, in Eldre’Thalas, for a long time. Killdrae was an adult at the time and his own wife lived through the disaster. They had children, some of whom married and eventually migrated away with Dath’remar and the others. Some stayed behind here. For many years I watched them, watched their lives progress and their joys and sorrows while nursing my own sorrow.”

                “That must have been nice, to know at least that Eli’s legacy lived on,” Malandrae said. Her surprisingly lucid response made one of Biara’s eyebrows perk up as she glanced at her friend.

                “It was, but it had its own sorrow. Killdrae passed away centuries later, as did his wife. Their children grew and had children of their own, each living out his or her life before fading away into the eternal night. And yet I remained, living on and on here in my safehold. Eldre’Thalas itself began to crumble, until I felt the need to seal my own chambers off away from the others. I created a spell that caused a rockfall to collapse some of the outer chambers, using…that item you and I acquired years ago to ward the place from the others.”

                Malandrae frowned, looking into her friend’s eyes, “T-that…must have been so lonely! Why would you do that?”

                “I couldn’t stand the pain of watching Eli’s legacy fade. Of watching her children’s children age and die and suffer. I wanted to seal myself away from it all, to forget,” Biara said softly, her look distant now. “But I learned that the world is not so easily forgotten. I could not stay alone here forever, without purpose. It was maddening! I realized that I had to embrace the memories, embrace what my daughter had begun. I started to slip away in secret, first for short spurts and then for longer periods of time. Monitoring my descendants, helping them where I could. Guiding them when they went astray. Finding them love interests that suited the honor and dignity of our family line. Making sure our magic, our legacy was preserved for countless centuries to come, for a day when that bitch Azshara returned and one of my own line could take their revenge upon her at last for what she did to us all.”

                Biara paused, realizing she had begun to raise her voice. She calmed herself, returning to the serene demeanor befitting a Highborne. She offered Malandrae a smile, shaking her head, “I’m sorry, Mal. You didn’t need to hear all of this upon first awakening. Needless to say, I’ve been watching over my bloodline ever since. It is for that reason that you found me amongst the Sin’dorei. Had I known you lived, things would have been different as at least I’d have had a friend to discuss all of this with.”

                “It-it’s okay, Biara,” Malandrae said softly. She offered her friend a reassuring smile, “I’m here now and I promise I will totally stay by your side and help you, okay? I’ll even help you find a way to make up with Kyliska!”

                Biara nodded, “I…it would be nice to have a friend by my side whom I did not have to lie to or deceive. It’s been so very long…”

                Biara paused for a moment, studying her friend closely, “There is…one more thing. It has to do with you, Mal.”

                “With me?” Malandrae sounded slightly concerned, given the story she’d just been told.

                “Yes, I fear it is not necessarily good news either,” Biara said. “I’ve been studying your condition while you slumbered. You are…not well. It is not related to your recent wounds either. There is something else wrong with you, with your magic. It is why you sometimes get confused and forget things, or get headaches.”

                “Really?!” Malandrae said, her hands coming up to her head in surprise. “W-what do we do?!”

                Biara brought hand up, urging her friend to remain calm, “For now, nothing. I am studying your ailment and have reached out to others to help me. I’m sure, in time, we can figure out what to do. In the meanwhile, you will have me here with you. I will not let you get lost, confused, or hurt again. I swear it to you. We are friends forever, and nothing will stand between that.”

                Malandrae smiled at Biara happily, “Friends forever, no matter what!” After a moment she yawned, shaking her head, “Biara, I still feel kind of sleepy. The muffins were super good but…not enough to keep me awake. Do you mind if I sleep a bit more?”

                Biara shook her head, gently moving the chair away from Malandrae’s bedside before scooping up the empty plate and cup, “Not at all my friend. We’ve only just been reunited but we have endless time ahead of us to catch you. You rest and I promise I will be here when you awaken again. I will never forsake you.”

                Malandrae yawned, leaning back down into the inviting silken sheets and pillows beneath her. Her eyes began to drift closed and her voice came in a whisper, “Thank you, Kerriel. I love you.”

                Biara watched as her friend drifted off to sleep once more, a half-smile playing across her lips. There was true dedication, the true bond of love and friendship. An elf who had stood by her side for over fifteen hundred years before fate separated them. One with no malice in her heart, no political game to play, no scheme to uncover. Malandrae was simply pure-hearted, as she’d always been, and Biara would preserve that for all of eternity if she could. As she turned and walked softly from the room, she whispered over her shoulder, “And I love you, Malandrae Moonwhisper. You are all that remains of who I once was, and I will always treasure your friendship.”

Reclaiming the General

*Stormshield- within the Alliance prison hold*

                The orc hung from chains, the metal links looping up to the ceiling and through rings before coming back down to the sides of the room where they were anchored on the stone floor. Tightened just enough to keep his arms arced above his head and his legs painfully stretched, he’d been suspended this way each time the Alliance captain that was overseeing his questioning had come for one of her sessions. Stripped to his loincloth, he was purposely left vulnerable so that he’d be more inclined to talk. Sometimes they left him in that position for hours afterwards, and his weary, battle-hardened form ached both from the current tortures and the memories of his great many battles and victories past.

                “You’ll talk eventually, orc pig,” the blonde human said to him with a smirk. “You can’t hold out forever, and eventually you’ll divulge all of the information we want to know, from your troop strengths to your logistics and battle plans.”

                She’d been at it for hours, and Morgaath Bloodmoon had said not a word to her. Just like every time before that. If she thought to break him by making him uncomfortable and applying what she thought was torture, then she was sadly mistaken. Morgaath was a general, a leader of a clan or orcs and he would rather die than surrender his honor in such a way. He tilted his head up, spitting on the floor near her feet.

                She scowled at him, shaking her head, “So be it. I’ll be back tomorrow, and the day after that, and the days to come until you decide to talk or die. You’re never leaving this place again, so I suggest you think about what is going to happen to you in the years to come.”

                As she left, Morgaath stared at her back with a scowl of hatred; regardless of what she said, he would never submit to the likes of her. Deep inside though he did have to admit one thing, without proper food, exercise, and sunlight he was slowly wasting away. He’d lost many pounds already, and felt an unfamiliar weakness in his body. Although his will would never break, eventually his body would and he would die here, hanging from these chains. It was only a matter of time, and time was not on his side.

                He could only hope that his allies remembered him and were trying to do something about his predicament before it was too late….

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*Tanaan Jungle, the outer shores of the region. Midnight. *

                Andithiel frowned with impatience; the night was wearing on and they were running out of time to complete their mission. Already Kyliska was an hour and a half late and had sent no word to him about what was causing the delay. If she was more than another hour or two late they would have to abort the mission and return to Quel’Thalas for re-supply.

                He and his rangers had been hidden in the jungle for over a week now, making their way to the outer shore to find a suitable crossing point. The plan was for Kyliska to meet them with the rest of her men, particularly her Blood Knights, at the selected crossing site. Kyli would arrive by boat as her men were ill suited to make their way through the jungle. By dividing their forces, the Alliance would think Kyli’s men were just heading into the jungle to launch an attack, and Andithiel’s men were few enough in number to slip through the Iron (or Fel?) Horde and make it to the rendezvous site. The plan was working perfectly, if not for Kyliska’s inexplicable delay.

                After another twenty minutes of waiting and having his patience worn down to the very end, he finally spotted the site of small landing craft moving quietly through the waters between Tanaan and the Alliance stronghold of Stormshield. Here at last was Kyliska and the rest of the attacking forces, and they could proceed with their mission to rescue General Morgaath from his imprisonment.

                As Kyliska made her way ashore, Andithiel knew immediately that there was something wrong with her. She looked worn and haggard, as if she’d not slept in days. Her eyes were bloodshot and he’d come to recognize the look she bore as one of a person who has spent the last several days drunk, angry, and upset. He raised a hand to greet her, rising from the bushes and got only a half-hearted response as she quietly ordered her men off the boats.

                “Kyliska! What took you so long? I was beginning to think we’d have to call the entire mission off,” Andithiel said, actual concern in his voice. “Are you alright?”

                “I’m fine,” Kyliska said, her voice rather waspish.

                Andithiel had been around women, particularly Kyliska and his own sisters, long enough to know that her ‘fine’ meant anything but fine. He frowned, studying her sloppy looking armor and messy hair for a moment before pressing the matter gently, “Are you sure? We can launch the attack another evening if you need to. We can find a place to hide our encampment. I know we’ve not always been on the best of terms but…I know when you are hurting. If you can’t do this tonight, say the word. The General will live for another day I’m sure.”

                To Andithiel’s surprise, Kyliska leaned against him, burying her face against his shoulder. Tears ran down her face and he awkwardly wrapped his arm around her to comfort her, thankful that the darkness concealed her issues from the men who were busy preparing for the assault all around her. When she spoke, her voice was broken, “Oh Andi…it’s…my sis- Biara. I can’t…she’s betrayed me. I can’t talk about it, I’m not supposed to but…I feel like my heart’s been torn out, like I have no one now.”

                The news shocked Andithiel; Biara had always been a loyal member of House Sunfire. He filed the information away in the back of his mind, realizing that Kyliska needed his support, “It’s…it’s okay, Kyli. I won’t tell anyone. And you’re not alone. You have me here. And the rest of the family. You’ll never be alone, okay? I’ll always be by your side.”

                Kyliska sniffled once more and then looked up at him, nodding glumly, “Thank you, Andi. I’m sorry. I know this is the worst time for this…we need to get started or we’ll run out of time.”

                Andithiel studied her for a moment and then nodded. Although she wasn’t in the best condition, they would not get another opportunity to do this and all of their forces were in place. He gave her shoulder a squeeze as best he could through her armor and then signaled to his own rangers. They emerged from the jungle line and quickly he gathered them around, beginning to detail the plans to them and to Kyliska’s Blood knights.

                This night General Morgaath Bloodmoon would walk free, or they would die trying. Honor demanded no less.

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                Everything had been going according to plan, and the small Horde raiding force had made their way across a group of atolls until they reached Stormshield’s main landmass. Rather than attack across Ashran, they knew that their best bet would be to sneak into the fortification’s battlements in the night from a direction the Alliance would not be looking.

                At the base of the cliff upon which Stormshield’s prison hold sat, they carefully made their way through the scrub brushes and small bits of cover that would obscure them from sight. The crashing of the waves against the island covered any small sounds they would make, and it looked like all of the careful planning would pan out. At the head of the group, Andithiel spotted something in the darkness ahead and signaled behind him. Instantly, all of the Sin’dorei that had been moving dropped down and took cover, no one daring to breathe.

                Ahead of them on the shore, three nightsabers patrolled, the giant cats ridden by Night Elven Sentinels. The elves chatted amongst themselves, their cats padding through the soft sand as they continued along their patrol route; it was clear that the Alliance expected little in the way of an assault from the ocean, although they’d taken enough precautions to deploy Night Elves in the dark of night. The larger elves could see quite well in the darkness, and it put Andithiel’s and Kyliska’s men at a disadvantage. Fortunately, it looked as if the patrol was heading in the opposite direction, and would soon be out of sight, allowing them to continue on their way. Andithiel breathed a sigh of relief until he heard a barely suppressed grunt of rage coming from behind him.

                As he turned, it was all he could do to fall back on his haunches as Kyliska rose up from her hiding spot, a naked blade in her hand gleaming in the moonlight. In the most un-stealthy manner possible, she screamed at the top of her lungs, lunging across the sands in the blink of an eye.

                The first Sentinel died before she knew what hit her, Kyliska’s sword plunging into her side and killing her instantly. Her nightsaber growled, but without direction from its rider it quickly moved out of position, trying to escape the attacker on its side. The second Sentinel got her glaive up in time to block Kyliska’s first blow, the sound of metal clashing on metal ringing out. Kyliska screamed at the top of her lungs, bringing her sword down again and again, “FUCKING DIE NIGHT ELF BITCH! DIE DIE DIE!”

                Eventually Kyliska’s raging blows broke through the Night Elf’s defenses and she fell from her saddle, quite dead. Her nightsaber turned on Kyliska and died when an arrow struck it in the eye from Andithiel’s bow. Behind them, the rangers and Blood Knights surged forwards, trying to support the unexpected and wild attack Kyliska had started.

                Unfortunately for the group, the third Sentinel realized what was going on and, being the furthest away, spurred her nightsaber into a dash. While she fled, she brought a horn to her lips, signaling the alarm. Andithiel felt his heart sink as the clear note of the elven horn carried into the night and other horns took up the call higher up the hill.

                The plan had failed utterly, thanks to a reckless attack by Kyliska that made absolutely no sense to him…

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*Eldre’Thalas- within Biara’s sanctum*

                Biara stirred slowly from her slumber, a tinkling noise of magic coming to her through her sleep. Silver eyes opened slowly, taking in her surroundings. She was laying on her large bed, deep within the depths of Eldre’Thalas. Her sanctum there had been sealed away for centuries, the magical wards she’d placed on it keeping it safe from prying eyes. It had provided the perfect place to use as a safe haven as she planned her next steps.

                As her vision came into focus, she took in the form of the elf that was lying in bed next to her. Soft purple skin was covered by silken sheets, the elf’s long, cyan colored hair released from its twin pigtails and splayed out over the bed. Malandrae Moonwhisper slept soundly on her belly, the wounds on her back too painful to allow her to lay that way just yet.

                Biara lay there for a moment, watching her best friend slumber. She reached out, her hand touching Malandrae’s gently. The other elf slept on, as she had been doing for several days now. Her wounds had been severe and exhaustion had claimed her. Biara spent much of her time watching over the poor thing. The tinkling noise of magic came again and Biara’s head came up. She saw a small arcane familiar floating in the air beside the bed and frowned.

                Slowly so as not to disturb her sleeping friend, Biara rose from the bed, straightening out her robes and following the arcane familiar as it darted like a wisp through her sanctum. She trailed after it, heading into a circular chamber in the center of her little safe hold where she’d set up a scrying orb. She approached it, knowing that the familiar would only have come to her if there was an issue with one of the things she had instructed it to observe. With a quick gesture she brought the magic in the orb to life, her gaze taking in the vision before her.

                Kyliska and Andithiel fought a bloody battle on a beach near the Alliance stronghold of Stormshield. For a moment Biara found this surprising until she recalled the hastily planned mission to rescue General Bloodmoon. As Biara watched, the tiny figures within the orb dance and twirled in battle, blood staining the sands as more and more Alliance forces arrived to reinforce the defenders. In the middle of it all, Kyliska raged, her sword slick with the dark blood of Kaldorei, her attacks reckless as she dove into a group of Sentinels, mercilessly hacking at them and then hacking at their corpses when they fell.

                Sadness passed over Biara; she knew exactly why Kyliska was risking herself in such a manner. She was taking out her anger on people who had nothing to do with the true reason why she was hurting. Worse, the rescue plan had clearly failed; House Sunfire’s forces would be hurled back into the sea before too long. General Morgaath would remain a prisoner forever. Unless…

                Biara spoke a few soft words, the vision in her scrying orb changing and showing her other scenes. Scenes within the prison hold itself. A smile passed across her pale purple lips as a plan began to form.

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*Within the prison cell*

                The door to the cell opened slowly, the hinges squealing as they always did. Morgaath was startled from a half-doze, his head coming up in surprise as the door opened wide enough to admit the blonde-haired captain again. She turned, closing the door firmly behind her before walking slowly into the room. Morgaath immediately felt himself on edge; this was highly unusual. The human woman had never returned to question him twice in one day. She always usually had guards stationed outside the door when she came in and she certainly never walked in without some sort of snide remark.

                Instead, the blonde human walked slowly to the middle of the room, looking up at him with some hint of sadness in her blue eyes, a frown crossing over her features. When she spoke, it was with the captain’s voice, but the words, spoken in perfect orcish, were so wrong that Morgaath felt a chill up his spine. “General Bloodmoon, it pains me to see you like this.”

                For a moment, Morgaath simply stared at the woman as if she’d grown two heads. His mouth opened and closed for a minute before he actually responded, “You put me in this position. What kind of trickery is this? Do you think your sympathy will loosen my tongue?”

                The woman blinked for a minute and then smiled, snapping her fingers. “Oh, that’s right. Pardon me.” She spoke a soft word and magic flared in the room. The woman’s features began to run, her face changing and elongating a little. Her hair turned red as if it had burst into flames, her eyes glowing with a faint green hue. After a moment more, the human captain was gone, and Biara Dayfire stood in the room before him.

For a moment Morgaath said nothing, studying the elven form and trying to determine if this was some new trick. There was something not entirely right about the elf, and after a moment Morgaath realized what it was; she was missing the glowing wards on her face. In their place, a faint scar marred her right cheek just beneath the eye. He glared at her critically, his voice like gravel, “How do I know this isn’t a trap?”

“The only ‘trap’ you have experienced, General, is in believing that the rest of your allies were clever enough to overcome the defenses of this prison. Fortunately, their failure has allowed me an ideal opportunity to slip in and complete the task,” Biara said.

Even as she spoke, she began to move, her hands coming up in the workings of a spell. Silently the base of the chains that held Morgaath up froze and then shattered, and he sighed with relief as his arm was finally freed from the awkward position. He slumped forward as Biara freed his other arm, nearly falling as his legs were almost too weak to support his weight. She came forward towards him to support him, and his arms shot out, his hands wrapping around her neck suddenly.

“How do I know that when I walk out this door, an ambush isn’t waiting for me?” Morgaath demanded angrily. “I will not be a patsy to some Alliance trick!”

Biara met his gaze evenly, her tone neutral, “If this were a trap, would I have put myself within your reach? Besides, you will not be walking out, I will be opening a portal for you. Release me so that I can do so.”

Morgaath stared at her for several long moments before finally nodding and releasing his grip. She rubbed her neck for a moment, offering him a smile, “I also need to ask something of you, General.”

“This is hardly the time or place-“ Morgaath began.

“This is the only time I have,” Biara interrupted. “I need you to swear something to me before you leave. Swear on your honor. Consider it a favor after I have rescued you here.”

“I’ve little time for your word games, Biara,” Morgaath stated evenly. “State your purpose clearly and I will judge if it is worthy of any oath.”

Biara nodded, “Very well General. It is only this; I wish you to watch over my sister, Kyliska. Protect her, both from her enemies and from herself. I…cannot go with you. I have things I must attend to and I will worry over her endlessly. Knowing that you will remain her ally, that you will be there should she and the Horde need you, will be an immense comfort to me in the days to come.”

Morgaath paused for several long moments, considering the words. He did not give his oath lightly, and when he did he upheld it to the very end. What Biara was asking was not too far-fetched however; it was simply to agree to protect another member of the Horde; something he would do anyway. He could look in on the younger Sunfire sister now and then, and she and Selenthiel had always been good allies. Finally, he nodded slowly, his tone stern, “I can agree to this. You have my oath that Kyliska will have my support.”

Biara breathed a sigh of relief, as if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. She smiled at Morgaath and nodded, “Thank you. It means everything to me to know that you will be there for her. Now I think it is more than beyond time for you to get home, General. I’m going to open a portal down to the beach below, where the rest of your allies are fighting. They will have the means to extract you. I wish you luck, and honor in battle.”

Her hands came up and a hole was torn open in the center of the prison cell, the portal glimmering and portending Morgaath’s coming freedom. He gave her one last long look before nodding, “Honor in battle to you as well, Magistrix.”

With that, Morgaath stepped through the portal and was gone. After it closed, Biara smiled, her features beginning to run again as she shed the disguise she’d kept for hundreds of years. A moment later a Highborne stood where she’d stood, her long silver hair partially covering half of her face, the pained expression there softening with a slight feeling of relief. A wicked smile parted her purple lips as her hands came up again, another spell beginning to build.

A few moments later the cell where Morgaath Bloodmoon was hiding would detonate with the force of a powerful blast, sending the defenders into chaos as they raced to see if their stronghold had been infiltrated from within. They would find no trace of their orc prisoner, their guard captain, or any elves who may or may not have been there. 

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                On the beach, Andithiel was beginning to panic. Against all rational thought, Kyliska had continued to dive into what had become a massive pitched battle with the Alliance forces. Wherever there were Night Elves, she dove into the fray like some sort of beast, and it was all he could do to keep their lines firm as the onslaught continued.

                The air beside him shimmered and his eyes widened as a portal opened beside him. From it came the figure of an old orc, his body marked with the wounds of his captivity and wearing little more than a loincloth and a grin. Andithiel blinked in surprise as the orc roared, “I’m free you bastards! You’ll never take me alive again!”

                “G-general…Bloodmoon?” Andithiel managed to sputter out.

                “In the flesh,” Morgaath replied with a toothy grin. “I see you’ve got yourself quite the battle here.”

                “Unfortunately so, General,” Andithiel replied. “But with you free, we can get out of here before we lose too many more men.”

                “Just so,” Morgaath said, his eyes scanning over the battlefield. They widened when he saw a few of the Sin’dorei in the middle of battle. “Quick, I need a sword or an ax!”

                Andithiel blinked in surprise, handing Morgaath his own sword as he brought his other hand up, sending a magical signal through an amulet he wore. Far away, back in Quel’Thalas, Tyavel would receive the signal and begin opening the evacuation portals near Andithiel’s position. As he turned to gaze at the battle, he saw Morgaath wading into the fray, the sword slaughtering Night Elves left and right around him. He made it to the thickest part of the fighting before plunging his sword into a Sentinel Captain’s chest, letting the weapon fall away before stooping down to retrieve something.

                Behind Andithiel, portals began to burst open as Tyavel’s magi opened up the escape route. Morgaath waded back from the battle even as Andithiel’s rangers began to sound the retreat. To Andithiel’s ever-lasting surprise, he saw that Morgaath held Kyliska’s unconscious form in his arms, her body ravaged with numerous small wounds but her chest rising and falling regularly showing that she still lived.

                Andithiel breathed a small sigh of relief, waving his men on. Morgaath darted past him and into one of the waiting portals, more rangers and Blood Knights following. Within moments the Horde raiders had fallen back upon the portals, and the Alliance defenders were hesitant to follow them given the number of casualties they had already suffered. Andithiel turned, the last of his men to leave, his heart heavy with the number of still forms they were leaving behind on the beach. So many lost, and all for a single General. Hopefully Morgaath would prove to be worth the effort in the days to come, but given his demonstration of ferocity even after being a captive, it seemed likely that would be the case.

                Andithiel sighed again, stepping through the portal and disappearing, leaving the bloody sands behind as the Horde raid retreated back to friendly territory, triumphant in the end.