The Durotar sun blazed brightly overhead, its heat bearing down upon the priestess as she departed the Zandalari vessel that had been her home for far more days than she had hoped for. Orgrimmar, while not as impressive as the Great Pyramid of Dazar’Alor nor as resplendent as her own home of Silvermoon, was certainly a welcome sight -if naught for the markedly lower humidity. Wiping the sweat from her brow, she began the walk to the gates of the Horde capital. As she traveled, a certain uneasiness settled upon her. Something had changed. Granted, she had expected such after hearing about what happened between Varok and the Warchief, but as is often the case, hearing and experiencing are very different.
As she neared the great iron portcullis bearing the emblem of the Horde, the landscape around her felt more and more strange, foreign. Along the walls prisoners - members of the Horde - were rounded up and processed for their loyalty to the Banshee Queen. Though a vast majority were Forsaken, the outlying faces disturbed her the most - orcs, trolls, and other elves - all being shackled together and led by accompaniments of Liadrin’s Blood Knights to imprisonment in places she dared not imagine, given the knowledge she had of the Matriarch’s profane rituals in years gone by.
Even the Blood Knights looked different. She was well-accustomed to their crimson-on-ebony platemail, however gone were the gilded steel and scarlet crystal polearms, now replaced with similar black-iron steel ones. Many of the Knights themselves did not bear the characteristic mark of fel as she and numerous other sin’dorei did. The differences were minor, but tangible for her, causing fears in the back of her mind to swell. It felt like her people were being replaced.
One of the Blood Knights stopped her at the gates as he finished binding the wrists of a Forsaken, and requested she identify herself as well as explain what business she had in the capital. She informed him that she was Tanthelara Rosecrown, one of the Horde’s champions returning from Zandalar and that she was to be in Orgrimmar for a day’s rest before restocking on supplies and setting out for Uldum to assist in the fight against the growing qiraji threat.
Seemingly satisfied, the elf waved her in before abruptly blocking her path again with his polearm.
“I’m sorry, but there is one final question. Do you hold any loyalty for the traitor, Sylvanas Windrunner?” he inquired, shifting his gaze to meet hers, the paladin’s eyes burning with the golden might of the Sunwell.
“Well,” she began, wiping the sweat from her brow, “I hold -er, held her in high regard obviously for her defense against Arthas’s Scourge, of course, and for helping our people cement a place in the Horde. I mean, without her there’s no telling how soon those forest trolls would-”
“Do you harbor any loyalty to the Banshee Queen?” demanded the Blood Knight, cutting her sentence short.
Tanthelara took a deep breath and matched his gaze with her own, fel-tinged one. “No, I do not. Whatever person she is now is not the same Sylvanas as who served Silvermoon years ago.”
The paladin stood motionless, examining her with gaze every bit as oppressive as the midday sun. She held her ground, looking straight ahead and doing her best to show no emotion. Then, as if the conflict had never happened, he gave the signal for the portcullis to open and welcomed her to the capital city.
Inside, Orgrimmar was alive with activity. More peacekeeping troops patrolled the streets, with small detachments carrying prisoners in tow. She strolled casually along the Drag, taking refuge from the scorching heat in the massive banners lining the chasm walls and soaking in the ambiance and conversations of townsfolk, merchants, and peons alike all discussing the Horde’s fate in the wake of Sylvanas’s betrayal.
The sun had began to set by the time she made her way to the cooling waters of the Valley of Wisdom. Finding an empty, clear spot out of the way of the main stretch of road she dropped her traveler’s pack and knelt at the water’s edge, splashing herself on the face to wash away the sweat and dust that had caked on it. Then, after taking a swig of the coconut water she had brought with her from Zandalar, she kicked her shoes off and sat on the edge of the stone, plunging her legs into the water up to her knees.
“Too bad I’m not a mage,” she thought to herself, "otherwise an invisibility spell would be all I need for a bath, which sounds rather nice right now."
A bony hand on her shoulder snapped her from her reverie. It was a Forsaken, one in a rather good and complete state compared to some of the more desiccated and decayed ones she had seen over the years, and remarkably devoid of the characteristic stench she had come to associate with the undead.
“I saw you at the gates,” the woman spoke in a creaky voice, “all things considered, I guess we should be thankful that Sylvanas’ true colors showed themselves when they did…”
Tanthelara nodded, gazing at her reflection in the water and the minnows nipping at her toes beneath the surface.
“There’s no telling what would have happened to us if she was allowed to continue any longer,” continued the Forsaken, with a slight chuckle in her weary voice, “I’ll be honest with you - it was rather relieving to see Liadrin’s guards showing a distrust of even their own kind. Reassuring, even.”
The priestess glanced at the undead. Judging by the subtlety with which she had approached her and the gruesome daggers she carried, likely a rogue.
“Yeah, if you say so. There’s something about this current crop of Blood Knights that unsettles me, though. Maybe its the eyes,” she said, turning to the rogue, “they don’t bear the mark of fel like so many of us once did. They probably don’t know about the struggles we went through, about having to choose whether to risk surrendering your will to demons or losing your mind to the hunger. Surely you can relate— I’m sorry, who are you again?”
The Forsaken took a seat besides Tanthelara and kicked her boots off, revealing the bare, bleached bones of her feet and sticking them in the water. Nearly instantly, the minnows dispersed.
“I am Soliena, and I know all about you, Tanthelara Rosecrown.”
Soliena’s bluntness with her words and sudden shift in tone raised alarms in the priestess’s mind. All she could do was smile at the rogue and hope she hadn’t been found out. Roused by her unease, the void reached out to her in whispers all demanding that she crush this imbecile’s rotting brain where she sat and dispose of the body in the pond. Instead, with her hand that was obscured from the rogue’s view, she started to subtly trace in the dirt an incantation for a shield. Whatever this rogue had planned, she needed to be prepared for. The shield wouldn’t hold forever, but could buy her enough time to get a more debilitating spell off and then find a guard.
“I know about your support for the Banshee Queen.” the rogue said in a nonchalant fashion that made Tanthelara’s chest tighten. “The game has changed, young priestess. Saurfang’s rebellion forced the Dark Lady’s hand, necessitating her exit from the Horde.”
The elf sat motionless, in shock. After a moment to collect herself, she decided to call the Forsaken’s bluff.
“Sylvanas betrayed the Horde! I only supported her as I would have supported any Warchief. Whatever allegiance I had to her, from either her days as Silvermoon’s Ranger-General, or as the Banshee Queen who helped my people solidify their place in the Horde, vanished when she killed Varok.” She pleaded, silently hoping that the Light would lend its authority to her voice, and that the Void would sweeten her words in the undead’s ears.
“The Dark Lady continues to watch over us. She knows the Void is not so easily defeated, and has united us all in preparation for a much larger threat. I am not your enemy, Tanthelara, and if we are to see the day our true battle is at hand, I need you to trust me.” the rogue explained, her words echoing the sentiment felt by the priestess the numerous times she questioned the Warchief’s orders.
“Everything happens for a reason.” Tanthelara thought to herself before speaking. “Why should I trust you?” she meekly asked, unsure exactly of how to react to the Soliena’s words.
The Forsaken simply grinned, the skin around her lips and on her cheeks cracking, revealing the teeth underneath.
((this one was rather difficult to work with, and more so with the ending/reveal I had in mind. Oh well, hope you all enjoyed!))