War of Thorns: Part 1

The order “To Silithus…” was quickly cut off.

“Wait!”

Her ears twitched as the word echoed around the room.  They listened as SI:7 briefed them.  The Horde had changed direction.  While the Kaldorei fleet had set sail for Silithus, the Horde’s march had turned towards Ashenvale.  Who knows how far they had advanced.

The Alliance would dispatch missives to recall the fleet, but she would rush to the aid of the city guards that had been left behind.

How could she refuse?  Gripping the lifeless daggers tight, the large cat exploded forth into action.

“To Ashenvale,” the Worgen urged her.  “Through the portal and to the village.  Quickly.”

But quickly was not quick enough.

While the forest stood around them as they left Stormwind Keep behind them, The Village of Astranaar was in ruins.

Buildings smoldered.

Bodies littered the ground.

The ethereal wisps swirled around her before heading towards Darkshore.

And there was something else.  An acrid smell that lingered in the air.

Poison.  Decay.

Both bear and cat knew.  The enemy was still here.  Bear’s rage filled them all while cat took up the hunt.  Her nose followed the smell, separating the scent of freshly dead from the scent of the decay of the living dead.  One by one, her claws dragged her prey from the shadows, from the corners of empty burning buildings, and one by one, the enraged feline tore them apart to send them back to death again.

“Forsaken,” the Worgen noted.  “It is as if Gilneas is playing out again, but they had no time to run.”

While cat made quick work of the enemy, the Worgen worked to calm the spirits and send them on their way.

“Be at peace and may Elune guide you,” but something else was calling the wisps.  They were all moving faster.  Speeding in the direction of Darkshore.  As she listened, she heard it too.  The unmistakable call of a powerful Druid.

The storm crow’s wings carried them to the border.  A glittering, misty blue wall of wisps stood between Malfurion, a small force of orcs, and her.  The one they called the Banshee Queen.

“But we fought together once.  Side by side…”

Vines had tangled around her and held her firmly rooted to the spot.  Her warning to the orcs to stay back came too late or maybe they just didn’t wish to listen to their War chief.  The orcs rushed the barrier and lost their lives.

She however, could pass freely.  Before she landed, she spotted a Tauren.  Their face mirrored her own conflicting feelings; shock, horror, dismay, duty.

She watched as the Tauren reluctantly followed his War chief Sylvanas back to wherever they were regrouping in the forests of Ashenvale.

This wasn’t, couldn’t be done.  The fighting would continue.  The Horde would continue to push their way into Darkshore.  The Alliance would have to defend as long as they could until reinforcements could arrive.  Until the Kaldorei fleet could return.

But would it be in time?

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