A request featuring two OCs from World of Warcraft.
***
"Why don't we just slaughter them all?"
High Priestess Allysa shot her compatriot an annoyed, if slightly weary look. Saia Azuresteel had the bloodthirsty temperament of a warrior. Highly skilled and coldly efficient with a burning hatred for orcs, it was no wonder she'd risen to the rank of commander within the Sentinels so quickly. She could slaughter them all, there was no question of that, but the problem was the political ramifications that would follow thereafter.
"We're trying to
de-escalate
the situation, Saia. Further bloodshed is the last thing we need."
"But they're just--"
"Mag'har, yes. But an orc is an orc, and they are allied with the Horde. There will be retribution if we attack them without even attempting to negotiate."
"They are encroaching on our lands," Saia said, resentment dripping like acid in her voice. "Logging our woods."
"A small camp of them."
"A small camp of cockroaches isn't so small."
Allysa smiled and reached across the table to pat the Sentinel's hand. "I agree with your sentiment, and it's entirely possible that we may need you to, as you say, slaughter them." She paused for dramatic effect and then continued. "But before it comes to that I have another plan in mind. Something no doubt violent in its own right, but far less bloody."
"Violence without bloodshed? I don't understand," Saia said.
"You will," Allysa said, "just as soon as you meet Elindia Dewshadow."
***
The southern forests of Ashenvale were calm and cool, the air clean, the natural flora displaying their bright colors as if putting on a show. Reds, blues and yellows shifted with the breeze, carrying the sweet and pleasant scents of innumerable flowers. Even so close to the Barrens as it was, southern Ashenvale still teemed with life, and critters poked their heads out from under every leaf and behind every tree.
She stepped forward and the gate closed behind her, it's clanging thump nearly making her jump. Glancing about, Elindia frowned as she took in the sudden shift of terrain.
The inside of the Mag'har camp was hot and suffocating. Great billows of smoke puffed out of various fires and mechanical contraptions sprawled about the area, creating a dense, cloudy haze. It was empty of trees, stripped of grass, devoid of any creature big or small that could provide sustenance. Lifeless. Lifeless except for the lumbering orcs slinking about and one silver-haired night elf diplomat whose purple skin and turquoise dress stood out like a sore thumb amidst the dreary landscape of brown and grey.
Her guide, a hairy orc missing an ear, grunted and waved her on. "Come."
Nodding to his turned back, Elindia followed, catching the eyes of just about every orc in camp. Their faces were hostile and unwelcoming, but behind that was something else. Something all men felt when they looked at her. She'd seen it many times before in orcs, the desire to covet her flesh, the instinctive urge to take and ravage her. They were savage killing machines, but their appetite for sex eclipsed even their murderous instincts.
"Wait here," the one-eared orc said once they'd entered the stone-and-spiked burrow that belonged to his leader.
She waited.
And waited.
There was no chair within the dusty, dirt covered antechamber, so she stood where One-ear had left her, hands clasped primly in front of her like an obedient school girl. Her long ears twitched. She could hear voices from beyond the iron door, muffled and vague. It sounded as if they were arguing, but when the door opened again and her guide thundered out he seemed no more--or less--angry than before.
He held the door open for her, and although she knew it was out of a sense of duty to his leader, she thanked him anyway and hurried inside.
The door slammed shut behind her, leaving her alone with the leader of the Mag'har encampment. His name was Gaturn Deadmask, big and lean with a face that would make a snarling hyena look cute. He menaced over her, at least two heads taller than she was. His skin rippled with taut muscle and was of a dark, brownish-red complexion, as if stained with blood. An Iron Horde tattoo marked the skin of his right shoulder, a large and prominent reminder of his affiliation.