Deception (a World of Warcraft Fanfic)

Old, Unhealed Wounds

Hot sand between my hooves, the heat of a Durotar summer could not only be felt, but seen by the shimmering haze surrounding the orcish metal buildings.

Perhaps it wasn't summer anymore, no, a troll had told me in more temperate areas of Azeroth the leaves have begun to turn their autumn shades. I had been gone since spring, many months had passed since I had been so close to Orgrimmar, and then it had been safe for visitors.

Many others had received the call to arms and were now gathered in the small town of Razor Hill just outside of Orgrimmar's heavily defended gate. The sight of Garrosh's fortifications deterred none, no one who was invited declined the invitation to fight his injustice. Even those who did not receive and invitation flooded the town armed and ready to lay down their lives.

I finally found out what had happened to the Vale, and to my dismay, my guesses weren't far off. Garrosh had been leading an excavation in the Vale and found the once dormant heart of the old god Y'shaarj, creator of the sha. He now harnessed more power than he could have imagined with the bell.

I know there was no way I could have stopped him, but dammit I'm so embarrassed. I should have known Garrosh knew about the orb, I should have known being the lone survivor of the mission with Vol'jin, then suddenly disappearing would be suspicious.

All these years I had thought I was the master of deception, keeping off the waecheif's radar. I had only deceived myself thinking that my games of hide and seek made me tricky enough to play two separate people, along with being a double agent for Vol'jin. What a fool I was.

Sulking was for the weak, however, now was the time to redeem myself.

Assorted arrows of all kinds flew across the firing range, most all hitting their targets dead on. In the distance, the clanking of metal could be heard coming from "the pits", were warriors and rogues practiced hand to hand combat. The makeshift training grounds were buzzing with activity.

In the heart of it all was the town itself, where Baine and Vol'jin were carefully strategizing for the assault. A team had already been deployed to the vale, where they would attempt to repair any of the damage Garrosh had done. They were currently building a second team that would meet the first at the docks and begin the assault on the front gate. While others would be helping us break into the city, this special second team would be going into the caverns underneath the city, where Garrosh hid with the heart of Y'shaarj.

The second team had some requirements to meet, physical strength was a given, but mental stability and allegiance would put some of the candidates to the test. Many of us were so devoted to the horde that it would be difficult separating Garrosh from the rest of it.

"They've got Blackfuse, a respectable engineer and foe," Rivett spoke to the recruits, "but he's an overconfident man, a procrastinator. Odds are his weapons won't even be full assembled by the time we reach him, the fool."

"Do you know what machines may be in his arsenal?" Questioned Baine.

"Give me some time to think and I'll have their schematics for you! Blackfuse was always very public about his work." I had never seen Rivett so happy, once we had a solid plan, he had creative freedom with the machines he builds to back us up. His talents were waisted on the Hellscream's fist crew, now I began to see the true genius behind our camp's cook.

"Alright, let's break for dinner, I'll see you all back by the firing range by sunset." Baine dismissed us, returning to the strategizing table with Vol'jin.
"Not you, Saerah, a word?"

We waited for the crowd to clear out. A knot slowly tied in my stomach, what did he have to say that he couldn't in front of the other recruits?

"Should I tell her?" Rivett broke the silence, "I may be able to offer more comfort..."