Most of the legends of Azeroth are already written in books, told in inns, and are reenacted in plays, but history is written by the winners, where would the Banshee Queen Sylvanas Windrunner be if she hadn't liberated herself and accepted her defeat. Where would Varian Wrynn be if he died in the sands of the arena? We, the survivors, some of us are happy that we fell into the background of these great hero's. We can only hope someone will listen to our story, even though we didn't fight our way to greatness. That doesn't mean we didn't fight for our survival.
My name is Vorioia Ace, for what it's worth I am married now, but I can only speak one word at a time. I can write though, so I'm writing in hopes someone will read and understand. I've been able to sing for quite some time now, but speaking I am stopped. For the most part I choose not to speak but forming the words without stuttering takes effort. There's also this cold icy chill the comes over my throat and the sound won't break through my wind pipe. So, I've gotten by by taking these long pauses to make my point. I can still write, so I'm writing now. Before, while aboard the giant necroplis the banshee's taught me to connect my words without the pauses, but the words need melody, harmony, or this cold chill will form, take over, and I may not be able to breathe for a few minutes. But that came later, when I was able to form words without effort or without song, I was almost completely tone death, but I miss my voice, I miss being able to speak to my husband, to anyone. How did I get like this, well, if you want to know that, I'll have to start from the beginning? This is a forgotten story of Warcraft.
I, like most people I was born human, a child overprotected by my three older brothers, my father killed by savage troll tribes that littered the forest to the north, before I was born. My brothers say he was a strong man with enough strength to match or break any orc, but the people with him were his greatest asset. They knew how to fight as one with heavy shields that could trap in anyone more skilled with blades. That is why we humans beat them, not because we were stronger, faster, or more skilled. Because we knew how to fight as a single unit, but trolls use different tactics, my father, and his team were shot down with arrows on a patrol. This was the image my brothers gave to me, but he died before I can remember. I remember myself so strong and full of life, Vorioia Pride was my name, and even as a child I wanted to be a hero like how I envisioned my father and so did my brothers. So, I was tougher than most girls, I had very few friends, and was more often than not, short tempered. When I first met John he was so fragile, soft spoken, and would cry even when grownups would yell at him a little. If there was anyone that was the polar opposite of the image I had of my father or how boys should act it was John. John Ace had two sisters one older and one younger, Jandice the older and Ada the younger. Jandice knew quite a bit about the arcane but didn't display it as much as she loved to talk about it. When people would ask her to show them some magic she would show off some tricks, and for a long time that's what she did, magic tricks, with traps, mirrors, and sleight of hand movements. Hardly anything that could be used in combat, but the other mages did say she had the gift, she just chose to be more of a magician then a proper mage.
John's parents were somewhat poor, but once Jandice's shows started getting more and more attention from town folks she started to get attention from the nobles of the Barov family and she was adopted into them. With a whole bunch of gold for John's family of course.
John on the other hand, he was so shy and somewhat afraid of his parents. They said, Jandice Barov barely acknowledged them as their daughter, and that he should forget he had a sister. When we were kids I had helped him when I saw him being bullied by a bunch of girls, but I told him that I wouldn't be doing that again if he didn't stand up for himself. I told him, "Just get really mad and hit one of them as hard as you can."
I remember I saw him getting bullied like he always did, and he looked over at me, and I shook my head in disapproval. I wasn't going to help him, and next thing I knew one of the girl's hairs was on fire. John ran away but I never laughed harder in my life. The bullies' friends did get her some water. I ran after John. John was crying like he always did, but I told him not to be sad, those girls shouldn't mess with him again. He wasn't crying because of what he did, he was crying because he was going to have to change schools and he might be sold to the Barov family if his power developed. So, I connived the girls that were bullying him not to say anything. But John would have to show me his magic whenever I asked. Even though John was a child he could kindle sparks and fire, water and ice at a moment's notice. I had seen arcane magic before, but to see shards of water and ice, or sparks of fire and heat form in his hands so slowly was so pretty. Most mages did it so fast I couldn't really know what was happening. I told John; sooner or later the other mages are going to find out that you have magic. They will be able to "feel it" so to speak.
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Lost Stories of Warcraft
FanfictionThis is a series of stories of loosely connected characters taking place in the the Warcraft Universe all taking place in the events before Vanilla WoW . Lastly, there all Horde by the way.