#nossavyara

Tarenor Swiftdawn, however, had another plan entirely. The paladin sat waiting in a dark room in the bowels of the Undercity, irritated slightly by the delay but he attempted to remind himself to be patient. Everything needed to work out smoothly and with complete intention.

The paladin looked around the room at the small chamber to pass the time. It looked more like a prison cell than a High Executor’s office. No furnishings or items to make it more welcoming, but that in itself would be ironic considering the nature of the Forsaken. All that occupied the room was a large oak desk, a high backed seat behind it, and a small wooden chair in front for guests. The only real decoration was a banner behind the desk on the stone wall: the banner of the Forsaken, the sigil’s white and purple eyes boring a hole into Tarenor’s forehead in judgement.

He sighed and muttered a small prayer, pleading to the Light that this was the right course of action, and that it would succeed. Finally the door to the office behind him opened and Tarenor stood with his fist over his heart in salute as the three figures walked in. One was a large male orc, his armor adorned with the usual spikes and trophies that would accompany a High Warlord. Another was a sin’dorei woman, robed in deep crimson of wealthy make, but one would expect as much from a high ranking Magistrix of Silvermoon. And the one remaining was an undead male, his features shrouded beneath a black mail coif, High Executor Mordecai.

Since the rise of the Banshee Queen’s position to Warchief, it was obvious that many of her Majesty’s generals and leaders would rise as well when it came to leading the Horde’s war efforts, and Executor Mordecai was ever her faithful servant. It was him who Tarenor came to meet with today. The others he did not know, but was not wholly surprised by their attendance. High Executor Mordecai moved to his desk and sat down, waving for Tarenor to do the same. The other two in attendance merely stood to one side of the Executor, eyeing him searchingly.

“You may sit, Tarenor. Excuse our tardiness, we had much to discuss.” Mordecai informed him, his voice deep and heavily accented with that of an Alteraci man. Tarenor did as he was bade and sat back down.

“Thank you High Executor, you and your colleagues do me a great honor by considering my offers.” Mordecai placed a scroll on his desk with a sigh.

“I do not think that it is honor you are looking for coming here, High Commander. Within the Horde you still retain that rank, but tell me, what is a Commander without his soldiers?” With a small smile, the paladin chuckled.

”Nothing, sir.”

The Magistrix with sharp harsh eyes nodded in agreement and took a step forward. “Indeed, Swiftdawn, and I wonder why this is hmm? Why did you disband the Phoenix Highguard? Why not and wait to see if this charade of yours worked? I hope your intentions weren’t originally selfish in mind?” The woman almost spit the words in his direction as Tarenor’s face returned to that of neutral expression.

“No ma’am. The Phoenix Highguard has always been loyal, including myself, since its inception. Even when Silvermoon threatened my own head and the heads of everyone in the battalion due to false accusations of treason. We remained loyal,” he replied calmly. He turned and looked at the High Executor. “For almost seven years, across countless battlefields and campaigns, from the lowest of missions to the most epic of conflicts, we have fought, bled, and some of us died for our Horde.” His gaze went to each of the officials, eyeing them seriously. “They deserve some peace after all that time, but for those who wish to continue to serve home, they should do so with amenity.” The orc warlord grunted as if agreeing with his own thoughts.

“So, this is a ransom then? You hold what you have as a bribing chip so your and rabble can run around un-collared!” With furrowed eyebrows, Tarenor turned to him and shook his head. He despised having to plead his case, after all he had done. After all the Highguard had sacrificed, it baffled him how they still did not see they could be trusted.

“No, sir. What you think I am conspiring to do is wrong. And I will not hold the Azerite on a string in front of you. No matter what your decisions are tonight, the Azerite caches we obtained will be turned over to the Horde.” Tarenor said swiftly before any of them could interject another accusation. The Warlord blinked in surprise and remained silent while Mordecai simply raised an eyebrow. A smirk traveled across his face to reveal yellow jagged teeth. The Magistrix appeared to remain unconvinced.

“How altruistic of you Swiftdawn, but there is always a price. And your veiled words reveal them. It also doesn’t explain these emissaries of yours throughout the different branches of the military and governments,” she remarked with barely concealed hostility. Despite himself, Tarenor couldn’t help but smile, the Magistrix’s words had him built up as if he was trying to plan a coup or defect to the Alliance. No nothing of that sort. He sighed softly to himself. Politicians.

“My lady, you hold me in too high regard if you think I can coordinate secret machinations of the magnitude you suggest. Those people who have met with your subordinates and colleagues are my comrades. People I trust to handle things more... “ Tarenor feigned a pause. “Complicated and delicate when it comes to the nuances of politics. They are aiding me in reassuring you that, despite finding this unexpected boon, we do what duty requires of us and offer it to you freely. All we ask is the trust we deserve.” After having remained silent these past few minutes Mordecai finally spoke.

“Trust in you and your cadre with almost free reign, without the auspices of Horde Command to give you orders, or in certain circumstances keep you in check.” Mordecai reiterated to him. Tarenor bowed his head in consent.

“To put it bluntly, yes High Executor. Since our first missions we have always worked in unorthodox ways and strategies. We strive to make allies and friends, but our core has always been self-reliant. When the person next to you is your dear friend or even someone you don’t like but would rather die than see them killed, you will fight all the stronger.” He scratched at his beard in thought for a moment, snorting a brief chuckle. “It is not the best way, it’s not the most disciplined either. But our victories do not lie. Give us the freedom to work how we work best. And you will have our courage in the wars to come.”

The orc let out a deep rumble of a chuckle as he crossed his arms. “I like him.” he said with amusement. “I’d say it’s orcish spirit if not for his pointy ears and eyebrows. The High Warlord turned to Mordecai and nodded his head.

“Very well. Magistrix?” the forsaken inquired as he turned to the woman. The slender noblewoman frowned, eyeing the seated paladin. “I have my doubts. You speak with zeal but such free reign is dangerous. But I will approve this… for now. My eyes will be watching you High Commander.”

Without testing his luck, Tarenor simply nodded and looked back at Mordecai, who leaned forward on the desk, his fingers tented in thought. After a few long seconds he finally broke the silence.

“War is coming elf, do not mistake it. The wolves howl behind their rubble of a wall. The Boy King seeks any reason to unleash them. And your cousins in Northern Kalimdor encroach ever closer to Durotar and our territories, knowing that with the Legion gone, now may be the time to push us out of their woods. We will need all weapons at our disposal and I’m not referring to the Azerite you claimed from the traitors in Silithus. By the powers given to us by our Warchief we will accept your plans for this new… coalition of yours, after we have received the Azerite.  Though.. I will be keeping close contact with you.” The forsaken smiled once more, showing his shark-like teeth. “To remind you and yours of where your loyalties lie.”

Tarenor stood up from his chair and saluted once more. “I will make arrangements tomorrow to transport it to your custody, High Executor. Thank you.” Mordecai returned the salute with a half nod.

“For the Horde, Swiftdawn. I look forward to seeing your full plans soon.”

“For the Horde,” Tarenor replied. He left briskly, leaving the three officials to their own duties.

Tarenor’s haste was to return to the dark corridor to where Nossavyara was waiting for him, obviously bored out of her mind. “What did they say?” she asked with no attempt to hide her excitement.

“They agreed,” he said with a grin. “Your sister and the others must of done good work, I thought I was going to have to fight them more then I had to.”

Noss snickered. “Leave the politics to the nobles. With this we won’t have to worry about answering to the Magister’s every whim anymore!”

Tarenor nodded in agreement as they walked towards the stables on the outskirts of the sewers. “Start sending word to those who will come, new or old. We’ve got a job to do, and afterwards--”

“A new dawn?” Noss interjected, looking at him slyly.

“Aye.” Tarenor chuckled. “We’re just too relentless too give up.”