Lore of the Marsh. A World of Warcraft fan fiction

Prologue

She dreamed... in the dream she was flying high above the shimmering waters of the marsh. From the distance of few kilometers she saw her home - Telredor, the glimmering pearl placed on the caps of enormous mushrooms. Sometimes travelers came and spoke of the other world, Azeroth they called it. Yet, murky waters of Zangarmarsh were all she has known through her still short life. In the pale beams of the twin moons the fluorescent fungi revealed creatures of different kinds living and hunting in the swamp. Swift silhouettes of sporebats moving in and out of shadows to hide from their predators. Tall fen striders marching on their long, tentacle-like legs, many more blended in the blueish hues of the flourishing nature. That was the way the life went through many years until the demon-elf came bringing with him the Naga. For yet unknown reasons they were draining the waters of the marsh, lakes that were once a part of the Outland's ocean. The pipes and mechanisms were being used along with magic starting to change her beloved homeland and endanger species native to this place. There were also some ogre brutes trying to cut away most of the gigantic fungi leaving only drying soil behind.

Her race couldn't do anything but cry for help from Cenarion Circle - a group of both night elves and tauren druids united in the one noble aim to protect the nature and maintain it's harmony both in Azeroth as in Outland. 

As her thoughts wandered upon these topics, she drew closer to the main lake where invader's machinery was draining out the water. She started to hear it's pumping noises yet she couldn't find any of the sirens or myrmidons on the coast nor swimming in the pool. She changed the direction a bit flying to the machinery's spire. Suddenly, she gasped. After passing the construction of pipes and metal, her eyes spotted something that she haven't predicted or even thought of. A scene of carnage, the scaly bodies of both Naga males and females lying scattered around like bunch of rag dolls. Torsos covered with blood, some were missing their limbs, torn abdomens with brutal force. Although she didn't have any warm fillings towards the invaders, her mind couldn't grasp the idea of something - or someone - as she thought to herself, butchering the group of armed Naga without any visible effort. A demon? Something that came from Hellfire Peninsula? It clearly wasn't done by little sporelings nor any other thinking race. Even brute ogres had nothing to do with the Naga or this area. Yet no demon was reported appearing in this area recently. She cautiously drew close to the place, starting examining the bodies and surroundings for any trace of something that caused the sea serpents' deaths. She didn't notice any footsteps. All the bodies belonged to the Naga race. Severe wounds hasn't been done by any weapon she knew about. Rather torn and crushed like being attacked by a beast. As she was still searching, a sudden sense of danger overcame her. She was being observed. Her breath quickened. She felt as if becoming a prey. Driven by fear she searched nearby shadows. She ascended to the sky. Too slowly. An invisible force tore into her mind. In an instant her deepest fears seemed to become real. Darkness overcoming her consciousness pulling her body into the swamp. With her diminishing strength she made an effort... awake... become awaken!

Attahkhena, young shaman awoke in her bed with a scream. Her heart was still racing and only after few minutes she managed to calm down. She murmured a prayer to the Naaru and the Light itself for getting free in the last moment. To her great relief the training has not gone in vain and she was still able to control her mind even during sudden attack. Though it was a dream, the draenei knew that everything really happened. She rose to her feet deciding to talk about the matter with the Elders. As she dressed herself, she went outside into the first light of the day.