I. Honor of the Fallen

Author's Note: A series of vignettes written based on inspiration that has hit me at various points in various quests. Note that they are not written in chronological order, but anyone who has a rough familiarity with the game should be able to figure out where they fit in sequentially. Reviews would be very much appreciated.

Snow and ice had somehow managed to attach themselves to her black-and-red armor; at any other time, she might've cared to remove them. This day, though, they hardly seemed to matter, and she did not so much as feel the bitter wind that made her already-pale cheeks seem truly pallid, and her blonde hair whipped wildly in the bitter northern wind, occasionally catching upon the spiked mouthguard that she wore.

Out behind her, the fine, silken black cloak, trimmed in red like the rest of her armor, waved just as freely, and snow crunched beneath the boots of her armored warhorse loudly. Yet the great steed, plated in red and gold that complimented its mistress, seemed to be guiding itself back to the camp, for only one hand held its reins and that hand barely did so.

In her other gloved hand was carried a letter, cradled carefully out of the wind and snow. The latter still felt in a few scattered bursts now and then, but the wind was by far the more dangerous of the two aggressors, threatening to tear the already-damaged paper from the hand that held it with such firmness.

Upon reaching the perimeter of the orcish camp-she barely cared to recall its name, though it was surely someone's Hammer-the woman did not so much as pause to acknowledge the guards there. But then, they had become familiar enough with the sight of the blood elf that there did not respond either other than to grunt and nod.

Some focus returned to her glowing green eyes when she reached the tauren stable master, and she dismounted swiftly, still clutching the letter carefully as she offered her charger's reins to him. The male accepted them with some courteous words, but she could only find it in herself to give a nod of acknowledgment, her stomach feeling hollow.

But now there was more purpose in her steps as she strode across the camp as she had nearly twenty times on the past several weeks. Upon her back, a massive black waraxe had been placed, the ease with which she carried it betraying the strength that her small, lithe form somehow managed to possess. To the orcs, she was an utter mystery.

Despite that it had been the archmage whose image awaited her within the overlord's hovel who had dispatched her upon her mission, she had little interest in him in this moment. Instead, her glowing eyes were upon the massive orcish overlord whose name she had not bothered to learn. He had been of little concern to her before this moment.

Now, however, she faced his daunting form without the slightest of hesitation. With the wind and snow gone, one could see that part of the pallidness of her grim visage came from the fact that it had been painted with ashes in accordance with the rites of Hallow's End. Most of the orcs had not bothered to acknowledge it, leaving herself and those of the Forsaken in the camp the only ones to have adorned their faces with ash.

There was no prelude, when she spoke-no, unlike the numberless peons of the camp, she felt no desire to accord him the respect of speaking first. Where would he and these fools have been if not for her tireless efforts upon their behalf? "I have a letter that needs to be delivered to Orgrimmar without delay."

Her voice could be soft and exquisite at times, or so she recalled as though it were a truth from another life. Now it was not. Now it was instead harsh and commanding, the tone of one who expected to be obeyed without hesitation as her green eyes flashed in challenge. She had known before she had arrived that a request would be wasting her time, with the paranoia that had built amongst the orcs of late.

"...a letter? You know the rules here, elf. All mail goes through me first. There are spies and traitors amongst us!" She could almost feel his angry gaze from beneath the massive iron helm that obscured his visage. His own voice was full of barely-restrained anger at her audacity.

"You insult me with that foolishness? It was I who delivered to you the tome which gave the names of a hundred traitors, and I who ended the life of the traitor who has made you so afraid." Her voice summoned contempt for the accusation easily.

"No one is above suspicion, you brazen little bitch!" The orc's roar as he stood drew quite a bit of attention from the camp. Beside them, the image of the masked blood elven archmage took a reflexive step back despite that he was not so much as there in person.

"Then what of you, orc? Are you above suspicion, when all you do is sit here upon your petty throne, pretending you were warchief when you're barely more than a peon yourself? You claim that you must read what we would mail, but what of those things that you yourself would send? Who is in a better position to destroy us with a betrayal?" There was a harsh little laugh; the blood knight seemed undaunted, despite that the two massive worgs upon either side of the overlord now looked at her with barely-restrained hunger.

"...you dare accuse me of treason?! My loyalty is beyond question!" Again, his roar nearly shook the foul orcish hovel in which they spoke, and his two pet worgs growled menacingly, each taking a step forward. Before they could attack, however, the overlord seemed to calm slightly. "...read me the letter now and I will not send you back to your precious quel'thalas a corpse. You are still of some use to the Horde."

There was no outward acknowledgment of his words, but after several excruciatingly long seconds, the blood knight lifted the paper that she held and began to speak, her voice devoid of any emotion, but lacking too the harshness of before as she read the letter.

"Deino

Ta'zinni sorry for disappearing on ya. If you're reading this letter, then I be dead.

I been forced to work for Malygos's armies under threat that the family would be killed if I didn't. Ta'zinni wasn't gonna let that happen!

Don't worry about me, just keep your kids safe. I have them fooled and I'm sabotaging them from the inside.

I love you, sistah!

Ta'zinni"

There was something undeniably unnerving about hearing the trollish dialect of orcish spoken with such bland precision, rather than with the sort of warmth-or at least emotion-that the trolls themselves seemed to have even in the worst of moments. "As you might have imagined, he was the commander of the Azure forces-and, as the letter says, he is now dead."

For a long moment, silence stretched out, dominating the room. It held the blood knight, the overlord, and all those who had gathered to look on in its chill grasp, and even the impassive image of Aethas Sunreaver seemed at a loss for words.

But, the sound that broke that silence was entirely unfitting indeed. From the throat of the overlord came a deep, condescending laugh, the sound of it almost like the beat of some maddening drum as it resounded through the room. His voice was even more contemptous when he spoke; "...boo hoo, how touching! What did I say? Traitors! Still, I knew Deino once-"

He did not have time to finish, because a blow from the flat side of the blood knight's waraxe had sent his massive form reeling back into his throne, upon which he collapsed for a moment, dazed. A collective gasp went up from the onlookers.

Only a moment later, enraged by the attack upon their master, the two massive worgs in the room growled. One of them launched itself immediately into a flying leap, its gigantic jaws slavering until the blade of that well-honed axe connected with its open mouth, effectively slicing its skull in two.

Deftly dodging away from the rest of its body, the blonde elf lifted her weapon again in time to parry a lunge from the second worg with its flack side, already speaking; her voice seemed to take on a terrible tone, as though it could rend the very air, as she spoke three words in the Thalassian tongue. As she spoke them, golden light pulsed from her axe and the second worg barely had time to whimper as the holy power struck it down without so much as scorching its fur.

"You orcs treasure honor, and yet this is the way you speak of your own honored dead?!" Any semblance of calm had disappeared from her voice as the paladin spoke in orcish again, not even bothering to threaten the recovering orc with her axe. "You bring shame to the warchief and to all the rest of us-is this the example you would set for our newly-made allies? Is this the example you would use to say that we are not the monsters that our enemies would call us?"

She shook her head, sneering with disgust. "Send the letter and learn respect for the fallen, or I shall deliver it myself-and deprive you of the only competent warrior in your entire force! For the hundred orcs who serve you, none of them has done half as much as I have toward our victory over the Scourge."

"Guards!" shouted the overlord, reaching for his axe in turn and refusing to acknowledge her words beyond that. But the guards seemed very much disinclined to interfere, especially the newly-inducted Taunka, who seemed rather aghast at the orc's words themselves.

"Save your breath, fool. The Horde values strength above all-we both know that, and you've proved that you lack that, 'overlord.' Be glad I am not warchief, or you would be nothing but another peon tasked with endless toil-it seems it would be a better match for your abilities." She sneered, and stepped forward, disarming him before he could fully recover with a swift kick, then turning and collecting the letter that she had dropped in the sudden melee.

The paper was offered to one of the shaken guards, and then she started to leave, only to pause a moment, her voice calmer again. "If there is more you would have me do, Lord Sunreaver, let us speak alone." Then, before the archmage she had addressed could respond either, she had departed.

Some part of her was almost disappointed; after all of that, she yet lived... and the hollowness in her stomach had not even slightly receded. It was going to be a long day, decided the blood knight, as she awaited the image of her fellow sin'dorei to come-it seemed a given that he would indeed come.