“Sister… Sister, what do we do?”
The insistent hissing forces a response from Shandris, even as she watches Lord Cenarius interact with the hulking green-skinned creature that just slew one of his own in one-on-one combat. Holding up a hand, she shakes her head.
“We wait. Do not act, not without permission from Lord Cenarius.”
The other Sentinel shuffles from foot to foot at that, and Shandris Feathermoon finally looks over at her, narrowing her eyes as she recognizes just how new the female Night Elf is.
“But… what if they attack and we aren’t able to help him in time? Shouldn’t we get closer, to be ready?”
Shandris scoffs at that, before shaking her head.
“Any closer and we risk discovery. Have faith in Lord Cenarius, Sister. These creatures do not have the strength to slay the Lord of the Forest, especially not in his own domain. Ashenvale herself will not allow them to harm him even if they try.”
It was true. Lord Cenarius was far too powerful to be laid low by simple metal axes. That said… Shandris had to admit, what she’d seen so far of the creature he was now talking to had greatly impressed her.
Shandris and her Sentinels had been watching the green-skinned creatures even as they’d first begun approaching the forest’s edge. When the one seemingly in charge had ordered some of his people forward and they had been holding woodcutter’s axes as they approaches their trees, Shandris had tensed up right alongside her sisters, truth be told. She and the other Night Elf Sentinels had been more than ready to fight for their forest, if it came down to it.
But that hadn’t happened. No, instead one of their own had stepped up and put a stop to it, taking a stand against his fellows. Even if Shandris couldn’t understand what the one green skin was saying to the others, she could at least derive context from his and the others’ actions. He was arguing for their forests and trying to put a stop to the logging that the others wished to perform.
She’d wondered why that was… but now she knew. He was a druid. That was quite a shock, truth be told. She’d never met a druid from another species before. And their own druids were so often in a state of slumber that it wasn’t often the Sentinels got to see their male brethren in action. The vast majority of Night Elf Druids spent most of their time slumbering in the Dream and could in fact sleep for centuries before waking up for periods of time that were usually measured in weeks or months.
This druid however… he was as awake as any she’d ever seen. He’d fought with a savagery that had both surprised and impressed her, hopping in and out of his animal forms with a speed that reminded her somewhat of Lord Malfurion. In the end… the other green skin that he’d challenged to a duel had been no match for him.
At least, Shandris was pretty sure it was a duel. She also believed it was called ‘Mak’gora’ in their tongue. Either that or all of the other creatures had been chanting one of the two fighters’ names, but Shandris was confident she’d gotten it right the first time. Mak’gora. From the look of things, it was a way to settle matters of dispute and leadership. And from the way it had ended, it had settled them quite finally.
“But… what even ARE they? They’re so… big. Their arms are bulging. And their skin is so… green. Where did these creatures come from?”
Glancing in the newbie’s direction again, Shandris finds the corner of her mouth quirking up completely involuntarily. At least the younger Sentinel isn’t trying to pick a fight any longer. In acknowledgment of that fact, Shandris decides to answer her honestly, even as she looks back to the creatures they’re currently spying on.
“I don’t know for certain… but I believe they might be orcs.”
It was just a theory. She couldn’t confirm it, truth be told. It had been… a long, long time since the War of the Ancients. And while there had been statues, none had survived to this modern time. And yet… Shandris Feathermoon’s memory had. And she had been told quite a few stories over the years about one Broxigar the Red. It had been centuries since the last time Tyrande spoke of him, but even still…
“Orcs? What are orcs?”
Ten thousand years. Long enough for the majority of their people to forget about one lone orc, for all that he had been a hero of the battle, and valiantly gave his life to spare them the time they needed to close the portal so the Burning Legion could not destroy their world. But Tyrande had never forgotten, and Shandris had learned at her feet for millennia after the War was over, before the High Priestess was confident enough to let her out into the world on her own.
Feeling more and more confident in her assumption by the second, Shandris nods down to the group that Lord Cenarius is conversing with.
“Those are orcs. Now, please be quiet. I’m trying to listen.”
“But we can’t understand them anyways!”
Shandris just rolls her eyes, not responding to that particularly whiny exclamation. Thankfully, the newbie recognizes just how foolish she’s being and falls silent after that, allowing Shandris to watch the proceedings in silence as well as mull over everything she’d seen so far in her head.
Broxigar, as Tyrande had described him, was a force of unimaginable violence, but also a force for good. Shandris had participated in the War of the Ancients, but she hadn’t crossed paths with Broxigar herself. Even still, looking at these creatures now… she could see it. These orcs certainly looked incredibly dangerous.
It honestly made her want to fight them, just to test her mettle. But at the same time, she knew that was a bad idea. As long as they kept those axes far away from the trees of Ashenvale, she would not raise her bow against them.
At the same time, the newbie wasn’t wrong. They were hulking creatures one and all, for all that Lord Cenarius’ presence made them seem almost tiny by comparison. He loomed over them all with his impressive stature, but that didn’t mean they weren’t still quite large. Some weren’t AS tall as her and her sisters, but others were. And the ones who were shorter more than made up for their lack of height by sheer width.
Not a single one of the orcs was overweight or fat. Every last one was covered in corded muscles, with bulging, massive arms and legs just as her Sister had commented. Even those who looked like they were more of a labor force what with the lack of armor or a real weapon beyond their woodcutting axes, were quite chiseled and seemed tougher than they should have been. There wasn’t much of a spark of intelligence in their eyes, but in the same way that Shandris wouldn’t want to wrestle a furbolg by herself, she also wouldn’t want to tussle with one of them up close and personal either.
She’s confident she could kill any one of them from afar with her bow… and that she and her sisters could do significant damage to the whole lot of them if they proved to be belligerent as well… but she’s not so confident that they could drive the orcs away entirely. Though, with Lord Cenarius on their side, victory was assured of course.
Even still, it looked like it wouldn’t come to that. As mentioned, Shandris and her Sentinels had been watching since the beginning. When Lord Cenarius himself pulls you off patrol and asks you to assist him with something, you didn’t turn him down. It was a great honor to say the least… and to have his back while he exchanged words with a brand new people was even more of an honor.
Of course, it was just as the newbie had said. The orc druid and Lord Cenarius are currently conversing in what Shandris THINKS is druidic. Once or twice over the past thousands of years, Lord Malfurion had taught her a few words in druid here and there… but he’d never put that much effort into it. Not only was his time in the Waking World quite limited and thus better spent with Tyrande, but also, the language of the druids was supposed to be rather secret and private.
If she’d pressed harder, Shandris knows she could have wheedled far more lessons out of the Archdruid, but she’d never truly cared all that much. She would much rather be out hunting or adventuring then sitting learning language lessons from Malfurion. Something she’d come to regret now.
… Even still, as Shandris’ eyes slide from the conversing orc and the Lord of the Forest to the dead orc still at the druid’s feet… she can’t help but be glad. She knew next to nothing about these orcs if she was being honest. But she knew she didn’t want that orc to still be in charge. The druid had tried to talk him down from what Shandris had seen. He’d argued for the preservation of their forest, if she had to guess. As a druid should. As any self-respecting being should.
But the former leader hadn’t wanted to hear it. He’d shut the druid down, and clearly been ready to start logging anyways. Shandris didn’t know what the orcs needed lumber for, but she knew one thing… if even one of those woodcutter axes had bit into one of her people’s trees, the arrows would have started flying, and the first would have come from her bow before any others.
Fortunately, that hadn’t happened. Unfortunately, the orc druid had had to kill his leader to stop it from happening. And then he’d spoken at length to the other orcs, clearly trying to convince them of something. Was he not now in charge? Was he not now their leader? Shandris had assumed so. From context clues alone, she had imagined that his defeat of the first orc would result in him taking his position. But it certainly seemed like he’d had to do a lot of talking in that guttural tongue of his to bring them around to his way of thinking afterwards.
Watching from the shadows, she and her sisters and Lord Cenarius had allowed him to do exactly that. Until finally… Lord Cenarius had moved forward, all while beckoning them to stay back. Contrary to what she’d told the newbie, Shandris hadn’t liked that. She had faith in the Lord of the Forest’s ability to survive these orcs, even if they attacked him all at once… but she still wished that the Demigod would have let them come with him. They could have been quite the show of force and representation of what the orcs would be fighting if they persisted in damaging their forest.
But no. Lord Cenarius wanted them to stay back, and so Shandris and the other Sentinels had stayed back. The possibility of conflict between them and the orcs intruding upon their lands seemed to be diminishing by the moment. Though the looks on some of the faces of the green-skinned creatures currently watching Lord Cenarius and the druid converse were… well, Shandris didn’t want to be rude and make assumptions, but needless to say she would be keeping an eye on those orcs in particular.
Still, now that things seem to have taken a diplomatic turn, Shandris finds herself wondering what it would mean if these creatures proved to be allies instead. If a positive and friendly relationship between their two peoples could be enacted… what would that look like? Where would they go moving forward? She wouldn’t lie… for all that the orcs were big, hulking creatures, she quite admired their physiques. They weren’t at all like Night Elf men, but that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing.
“Sister!”
Shandris frowns as the newbie whisper-hisses to her. She’s just about to give the other Sentinel a piece of her mind for once again interrupting her thoughts, when she realizes that the other woman is pointing. Blinking, Shandris realizes she almost missed it. The conversation between Lord Cenarius and the orc druid has come to a close… and Lord Cenarius is pulling away.
As the orc druid turns and begins shouting to his fellows, the Lord of the Forest draws back into the forest and vanishes, melding into the trees and plant-life.
She sees the exact moment that even the most observant of orcs loses him, the way their eyes widen and they grumble and growl to themselves, shuffling from foot to foot with barely concealed nervousness as they’re forced to finally focus on the words of their leader. After a few more moments, the orcs all form up, gather their former leader’s remains and begin making their way deeper into the forest of Ashenvale.
Shandris stiffens at this, but even as she and her sisters watch carefully, not a single orc brings a single axe anywhere near one of their trees. Instead, they follow the orc druid deeper into the woods, with their leader looking quite determined… as though he’s been given a quest that he will see completed, no matter the cost.
Finally, Lord Cenarius returns to them, making himself known as he enters their small clearing. Stepping forward, Shandris clears her throat and bows her head.
“Lord Cenarius… forgive us but our curiosity gets the better of us. What did you speak to the druid about? Where are he and his kind going now?”
“And what even are those creatures to begin with?! Are they dangerous?!”
Shandris shoots her subordinate a severe glare at that, fully intending to give the newbie a piece of her mind later. But for the moment at least, Lord Cenarius’ rumbling chuckle stays her hand and spares the younger Sentinel her wrath.
“They are orcs, young one.”
Hah! She knew it!
“They are quite dangerous… but then, so are you and your sisters. So am I, for that matter. I spoke to their leader, the one you correctly identified as a druid. He is self-taught… but committed to the defense of nature, just as all of my students are. I’ve asked him to confirm it and sent him on a mission that will tell us once and for all whether he and his kind will be friend… or foe.”
Shandris’ breath hitches at that. It was as she’d thought then. Very well… taking Lord Cenarius’ words into account, she nods her head now that she has more information.
“What would you have of us, Lord Cenarius?”
Smiling at her quite warmly, the Demigod tilts his head for a moment in consideration… and then nods.
“Come. We shall follow them at a distance to make sure they don’t get into too much trouble… and to find out which way they shall fall. In the end, they might just need our help.”
Some of her fellow Sentinels look a little put-off by that idea, the newbie even wrinkling her nose at the thought of ‘helping’ the orcs. But Shandris? Shandris finds herself more than a little interested, as she and her sisters follow Lord Cenarius into the woods, trailing behind the orcs and their druid with them none the wiser.
Things had been getting a little boring around here, if she were being honest. A little… rote. Maybe it was about time something, or rather someone… shook things up a little bit.
“Sister… Sister, what do we do?”
The insistent hissing forces a response from Shandris, even as she watches Lord Cenarius interact with the hulking green-skinned creature that just slew one of his own in one-on-one combat. Holding up a hand, she shakes her head.
“We wait. Do not act, not without permission from Lord Cenarius.”
The other Sentinel shuffles from foot to foot at that, and Shandris Feathermoon finally looks over at her, narrowing her eyes as she recognizes just how new the female Night Elf is.
“But… what if they attack and we aren’t able to help him in time? Shouldn’t we get closer, to be ready?”
Shandris scoffs at that, before shaking her head.
“Any closer and we risk discovery. Have faith in Lord Cenarius, Sister. These creatures do not have the strength to slay the Lord of the Forest, especially not in his own domain. Ashenvale herself will not allow them to harm him even if they try.”
It was true. Lord Cenarius was far too powerful to be laid low by simple metal axes. That said… Shandris had to admit, what she’d seen so far of the creature he was now talking to had greatly impressed her.
Shandris and her Sentinels had been watching the green-skinned creatures even as they’d first begun approaching the forest’s edge. When the one seemingly in charge had ordered some of his people forward and they had been holding woodcutter’s axes as they approaches their trees, Shandris had tensed up right alongside her sisters, truth be told. She and the other Night Elf Sentinels had been more than ready to fight for their forest, if it came down to it.
But that hadn’t happened. No, instead one of their own had stepped up and put a stop to it, taking a stand against his fellows. Even if Shandris couldn’t understand what the one green skin was saying to the others, she could at least derive context from his and the others’ actions. He was arguing for their forests and trying to put a stop to the logging that the others wished to perform.
She’d wondered why that was… but now she knew. He was a druid. That was quite a shock, truth be told. She’d never met a druid from another species before. And their own druids were so often in a state of slumber that it wasn’t often the Sentinels got to see their male brethren in action. The vast majority of Night Elf Druids spent most of their time slumbering in the Dream and could in fact sleep for centuries before waking up for periods of time that were usually measured in weeks or months.
This druid however… he was as awake as any she’d ever seen. He’d fought with a savagery that had both surprised and impressed her, hopping in and out of his animal forms with a speed that reminded her somewhat of Lord Malfurion. In the end… the other green skin that he’d challenged to a duel had been no match for him.
At least, Shandris was pretty sure it was a duel. She also believed it was called ‘Mak’gora’ in their tongue. Either that or all of the other creatures had been chanting one of the two fighters’ names, but Shandris was confident she’d gotten it right the first time. Mak’gora. From the look of things, it was a way to settle matters of dispute and leadership. And from the way it had ended, it had settled them quite finally.
“But… what even ARE they? They’re so… big. Their arms are bulging. And their skin is so… green. Where did these creatures come from?”
Glancing in the newbie’s direction again, Shandris finds the corner of her mouth quirking up completely involuntarily. At least the younger Sentinel isn’t trying to pick a fight any longer. In acknowledgment of that fact, Shandris decides to answer her honestly, even as she looks back to the creatures they’re currently spying on.
“I don’t know for certain… but I believe they might be orcs.”
It was just a theory. She couldn’t confirm it, truth be told. It had been… a long, long time since the War of the Ancients. And while there had been statues, none had survived to this modern time. And yet… Shandris Feathermoon’s memory had. And she had been told quite a few stories over the years about one Broxigar the Red. It had been centuries since the last time Tyrande spoke of him, but even still…
“Orcs? What are orcs?”
Ten thousand years. Long enough for the majority of their people to forget about one lone orc, for all that he had been a hero of the battle, and valiantly gave his life to spare them the time they needed to close the portal so the Burning Legion could not destroy their world. But Tyrande had never forgotten, and Shandris had learned at her feet for millennia after the War was over, before the High Priestess was confident enough to let her out into the world on her own.
Feeling more and more confident in her assumption by the second, Shandris nods down to the group that Lord Cenarius is conversing with.
“Those are orcs. Now, please be quiet. I’m trying to listen.”
“But we can’t understand them anyways!”
Shandris just rolls her eyes, not responding to that particularly whiny exclamation. Thankfully, the newbie recognizes just how foolish she’s being and falls silent after that, allowing Shandris to watch the proceedings in silence as well as mull over everything she’d seen so far in her head.
Broxigar, as Tyrande had described him, was a force of unimaginable violence, but also a force for good. Shandris had participated in the War of the Ancients, but she hadn’t crossed paths with Broxigar herself. Even still, looking at these creatures now… she could see it. These orcs certainly looked incredibly dangerous.
It honestly made her want to fight them, just to test her mettle. But at the same time, she knew that was a bad idea. As long as they kept those axes far away from the trees of Ashenvale, she would not raise her bow against them.
At the same time, the newbie wasn’t wrong. They were hulking creatures one and all, for all that Lord Cenarius’ presence made them seem almost tiny by comparison. He loomed over them all with his impressive stature, but that didn’t mean they weren’t still quite large. Some weren’t AS tall as her and her sisters, but others were. And the ones who were shorter more than made up for their lack of height by sheer width.
Not a single one of the orcs was overweight or fat. Every last one was covered in corded muscles, with bulging, massive arms and legs just as her Sister had commented. Even those who looked like they were more of a labor force what with the lack of armor or a real weapon beyond their woodcutting axes, were quite chiseled and seemed tougher than they should have been. There wasn’t much of a spark of intelligence in their eyes, but in the same way that Shandris wouldn’t want to wrestle a furbolg by herself, she also wouldn’t want to tussle with one of them up close and personal either.
She’s confident she could kill any one of them from afar with her bow… and that she and her sisters could do significant damage to the whole lot of them if they proved to be belligerent as well… but she’s not so confident that they could drive the orcs away entirely. Though, with Lord Cenarius on their side, victory was assured of course.
Even still, it looked like it wouldn’t come to that. As mentioned, Shandris and her Sentinels had been watching since the beginning. When Lord Cenarius himself pulls you off patrol and asks you to assist him with something, you didn’t turn him down. It was a great honor to say the least… and to have his back while he exchanged words with a brand new people was even more of an honor.
Of course, it was just as the newbie had said. The orc druid and Lord Cenarius are currently conversing in what Shandris THINKS is druidic. Once or twice over the past thousands of years, Lord Malfurion had taught her a few words in druid here and there… but he’d never put that much effort into it. Not only was his time in the Waking World quite limited and thus better spent with Tyrande, but also, the language of the druids was supposed to be rather secret and private.
If she’d pressed harder, Shandris knows she could have wheedled far more lessons out of the Archdruid, but she’d never truly cared all that much. She would much rather be out hunting or adventuring then sitting learning language lessons from Malfurion. Something she’d come to regret now.
… Even still, as Shandris’ eyes slide from the conversing orc and the Lord of the Forest to the dead orc still at the druid’s feet… she can’t help but be glad. She knew next to nothing about these orcs if she was being honest. But she knew she didn’t want that orc to still be in charge. The druid had tried to talk him down from what Shandris had seen. He’d argued for the preservation of their forest, if she had to guess. As a druid should. As any self-respecting being should.
But the former leader hadn’t wanted to hear it. He’d shut the druid down, and clearly been ready to start logging anyways. Shandris didn’t know what the orcs needed lumber for, but she knew one thing… if even one of those woodcutter axes had bit into one of her people’s trees, the arrows would have started flying, and the first would have come from her bow before any others.
Fortunately, that hadn’t happened. Unfortunately, the orc druid had had to kill his leader to stop it from happening. And then he’d spoken at length to the other orcs, clearly trying to convince them of something. Was he not now in charge? Was he not now their leader? Shandris had assumed so. From context clues alone, she had imagined that his defeat of the first orc would result in him taking his position. But it certainly seemed like he’d had to do a lot of talking in that guttural tongue of his to bring them around to his way of thinking afterwards.
Watching from the shadows, she and her sisters and Lord Cenarius had allowed him to do exactly that. Until finally… Lord Cenarius had moved forward, all while beckoning them to stay back. Contrary to what she’d told the newbie, Shandris hadn’t liked that. She had faith in the Lord of the Forest’s ability to survive these orcs, even if they attacked him all at once… but she still wished that the Demigod would have let them come with him. They could have been quite the show of force and representation of what the orcs would be fighting if they persisted in damaging their forest.
But no. Lord Cenarius wanted them to stay back, and so Shandris and the other Sentinels had stayed back. The possibility of conflict between them and the orcs intruding upon their lands seemed to be diminishing by the moment. Though the looks on some of the faces of the green-skinned creatures currently watching Lord Cenarius and the druid converse were… well, Shandris didn’t want to be rude and make assumptions, but needless to say she would be keeping an eye on those orcs in particular.
Still, now that things seem to have taken a diplomatic turn, Shandris finds herself wondering what it would mean if these creatures proved to be allies instead. If a positive and friendly relationship between their two peoples could be enacted… what would that look like? Where would they go moving forward? She wouldn’t lie… for all that the orcs were big, hulking creatures, she quite admired their physiques. They weren’t at all like Night Elf men, but that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing.
“Sister!”
Shandris frowns as the newbie whisper-hisses to her. She’s just about to give the other Sentinel a piece of her mind for once again interrupting her thoughts, when she realizes that the other woman is pointing. Blinking, Shandris realizes she almost missed it. The conversation between Lord Cenarius and the orc druid has come to a close… and Lord Cenarius is pulling away.
As the orc druid turns and begins shouting to his fellows, the Lord of the Forest draws back into the forest and vanishes, melding into the trees and plant-life.
She sees the exact moment that even the most observant of orcs loses him, the way their eyes widen and they grumble and growl to themselves, shuffling from foot to foot with barely concealed nervousness as they’re forced to finally focus on the words of their leader. After a few more moments, the orcs all form up, gather their former leader’s remains and begin making their way deeper into the forest of Ashenvale.
Shandris stiffens at this, but even as she and her sisters watch carefully, not a single orc brings a single axe anywhere near one of their trees. Instead, they follow the orc druid deeper into the woods, with their leader looking quite determined… as though he’s been given a quest that he will see completed, no matter the cost.
Finally, Lord Cenarius returns to them, making himself known as he enters their small clearing. Stepping forward, Shandris clears her throat and bows her head.
“Lord Cenarius… forgive us but our curiosity gets the better of us. What did you speak to the druid about? Where are he and his kind going now?”
“And what even are those creatures to begin with?! Are they dangerous?!”
Shandris shoots her subordinate a severe glare at that, fully intending to give the newbie a piece of her mind later. But for the moment at least, Lord Cenarius’ rumbling chuckle stays her hand and spares the younger Sentinel her wrath.
“They are orcs, young one.”
Hah! She knew it!
“They are quite dangerous… but then, so are you and your sisters. So am I, for that matter. I spoke to their leader, the one you correctly identified as a druid. He is self-taught… but committed to the defense of nature, just as all of my students are. I’ve asked him to confirm it and sent him on a mission that will tell us once and for all whether he and his kind will be friend… or foe.”
Shandris’ breath hitches at that. It was as she’d thought then. Very well… taking Lord Cenarius’ words into account, she nods her head now that she has more information.
“What would you have of us, Lord Cenarius?”
Smiling at her quite warmly, the Demigod tilts his head for a moment in consideration… and then nods.
“Come. We shall follow them at a distance to make sure they don’t get into too much trouble… and to find out which way they shall fall. In the end, they might just need our help.”
Some of her fellow Sentinels look a little put-off by that idea, the newbie even wrinkling her nose at the thought of ‘helping’ the orcs. But Shandris? Shandris finds herself more than a little interested, as she and her sisters follow Lord Cenarius into the woods, trailing behind the orcs and their druid with them none the wiser.
Things had been getting a little boring around here, if she were being honest. A little… rote. Maybe it was about time something, or rather someone… shook things up a little bit.
