Author's note

Disclaimer: All World of Warcarft recognised NPCs, lore and locations are owned by Blizzard Entertainment.

Louvel Nottley and Fyn Godwin are the property of my friend and fellow author Sara username Finychan on Wattpad, and she kindly gave me permission to incorporate them within my story.

All other characters and story development are strictly mine.

ROGUE FIREFURY - PROLOGUE

She wiped her bloodied dagger on the edge of her cloak. Silently she surveyed the carnage she and her colleagues had dealt the demonic camp just west of the Black Temple. This small outcrop of the Burning Legion was just an appetiser for the rogue troop. She had no doubt the demons numbers would greatly magnify as they neared the temple. That meant the blood elf and her colleagues assassination skills would indeed be utilised to the full. She reckoned it would take another day before they reached their goal. They would need to take shelter soon. She had seen the familiar turret structures of a Scyers settlement not too far from their present location. She signalled to the others, and they turned to make their way there.

Shadowmoon Valley in Outland was a dire, dark place. It was dominated by the volcano known as the Hand of Gul'dan. It seeped and spluttered it's foul green poison, fel, violating the charcoal, arid ground. The skies rained with fluorescent meteors, crashing upon the land and birthing enormous stone giants known as Infernals. They heaved and lumbered over the land, crushing all underfoot mercilessly. All manner of demons laid waste to countless Horde and Alliance soldiers throughout the valley.

The creatures that roamed the barren plains were also tainted with the loathsome fel and had mutated into abhorrent versions of their former selves. They would snap and slash and tear at anything and anyone who crossed their paths. Such was the legacy of the Burning Legion.

As she stared out over the grim landscape from the security of the inn at The Sanctum of the Stars, Tiene Firefury could not help but succumb to a feeling of hopelessness.

How had the world come to this? It was so far removed from her beautiful homeland of Quel'thalas in Eversong Woods and the stunning Silvermoon City. There, it had been warm, with opulent reds, yellows, and ambers. Lush landscapes covered with rich grasses and trees were abundant with vibrant foliage. Beautiful azure seas with white sand beaches all bathed in golden sunshine. The nights had breathtaking starry skies and evening temperatures were warm and welcoming.

Even that had come under threat, during the Third War when the scourge had attacked. In their pursuit of the High Elves' sacred Sunwell those undead creatures ravaged the land with Arthas Menethil at the helm. They had literally left a scar that ran all the way across Eversong Woods. Then there was the ultimate betrayal of the magister Dar'Khan Drathir. He all but razed the land he had once been responsible for creating, by attempting to harness the Sunwell's power for himself. The mystical fount had been the elves sustenance and source of arcane power. It was tainted further once Arthas used it to resurrect the necromancer Kel'Thuzad, a one-time human member of The Six, of the Kirin Tor. This in turn would enable him to summon Archimonde, a powerful Man'ari eredar to Azeroth, a servant of the Burning Legion.

All madness had ensued since. Even the elves' prince, Kael'thas Sunstrider was under scrutiny now. It appeared by all accounts he was fighting for his people's survival when he had the corrupted Sunwell blown up to destroy any remaining scourge in their lands. Although it ensured the High Elves survival it also meant their reliance on the arcane was affected. Ultimately, the Sunwell's destruction was devastating to Quel'thalas. The High Elves then became known as Blood Elves, Sin'dorei, Children of the Blood, in memory of loved ones they'd lost.

Now it seemed Kael'thas had also been seduced by the Burning Legion, having taken control of the Tempest Keep in Netherstorm. There, he was harnessing all the power the technology of the levitating satellite could muster from the surrounding land and it's creatures.

The elves had to look to their steward, Lor'themar Theron for guidance now. An incredibly intelligent man, but he did not like politics. He was a fighter, a soldier, but having been named Regent Lord by his prince, he had no option but to follow through with the responsibilities the post required of him.

And so, Tiene and her group of assassins, the Shadow Blades, trained members of the guild, (formerly known as the Crimson Blade), had arrived in Outland. It was however, going to be time to make a choice. And that choice could change everything. Forever.

Her eyes started to close, and in that hazy limbo between sleep and waking, her memories drifted back to a more innocent time...