Alarai
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“I owe you nothing, Jaina Proudmoore, but if it’s a fight you want it’s a fight you’ll get. Three days from now, near the shore. At midnight. We’ll fight on equal ground.”
For all the steeling she had attempted, Jaina wasn’t prepared for the frigid chill that licked up her spine and brought the hair on her neck to stand tall at the sight of feral eyes peering at her over a slender shoulder.
“Come prepared. I won’t hesitate to kill you.”
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Peace negations between the two rival factions had been going well since a unique ward had been created that was capable of dispelling some of N’Zoth’s manipulative influence hanging like fog over the entirety of Azeroth. The cost of such an initiative, though, resulted in the war reaching the Black Isles themselves, where Alliance and Horde alike broke themselves off the other in a show that was near cataclysmic. The casualties were too numerous to count and resources had run thin - once again, the two were brought to the same table. United against the same evil.
And yet...
Sylvanas’ gaze fell upon the door of the chambers she resided within. Heavy wood settled into stout grey stone, with metal embellishments reinforcing the wood wrapped into seafaring motifs. He should be approaching soon, she had sent for him a half hour ago.
Proudmoore Keep was large...but not that large.
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After a tenuous diplomatic meeting, Jaina Proudmoore wants a drink and a distraction with no strings attached. The stranger at the bar offers both and refuses to give her name. The perfect arrangement, surely?
Bookmarked by Alarai
12 Jun 2026