BEYOND THE STARS

TEKTITE

QUEST OBJECTIVE: Accept a promotion. 

— O R G R I M M A R —

"Strider, I want you leading the front lines."

Eona's grip slackened on her mug of ale. Droplets fell upon the tanned dirt of Durator as her shocked gaze found Sylvanas.

Torches blazed between the wooden tables outside the gates of Orgrimmar. Shadows chased the golden light across dull iron platters. The light failed to reach Sylvanas' face; only two crimson orbs were seen beneath her hood, watching Eona.

Eona's lips stumbled over the words. "T-the front lines as in...?"

"Taking position as Commander, and leading the Horde's advance against the Burning Legion invasion," said Sylvanas.

Eona set her mug down carefully, fearful she might dump it on herself with her suddenly sweaty hands. Thrall and Baine Bloodhoof's eyes nearly popped out of their skulls across the table.

"Are you sure of this, Sylvanas?" said Thrall. The timber of his voice changed when he addressed the new warchief. With Garrosh, his words were sharp, severe. With Sylvanas, his words trickled past his lips like light footsteps across volcanic ground. "Placing a scout in charge of a frontal assault?"

"Yes." Sylvanas' eyes narrowed. She did not like being questioned. "I witnessed your fight against the dreadlord on the Broken Shore. You took him down quicker than one of my arrows — and, quite gruesomely, I might add."

Eona stared at the table, silently scolding the satisfied growl of a deep baritone inside her head.

"The bloodlust. Such animosity. I haven't seen it in you since you first came to this planet, slicing up assassins who stole your brother." Flames danced in Sylvanas' eyes that had nothing to do with the torches around them. "You are a monster when it comes to demons. The Horde needs that."

Thrall and Baine's stares turned to her. They sized up Eona as if trying to picture her up against a massive demon.

Eona sighed. She knew better than to try to say no to Sylvanas — in public, at the very least.

"Fine." As she said the word, Eona imagined the pain on Anduin's face and winced. "But I'd like to discuss this further in private."

"Of course." the warchief nodded, satisfied. "You'll be working closely with Nathanos."

"Who? Oh!"

Thrall and Baine jumped as the shadows took form into a burly man behind them, and stalked to Sylvanas' side. Nathanos looked far more intact than the rest of the Banshee Queen's undead subjects. He was the first Eona had seen with a full beard. His strong, muscled limbs were hardly touched by decay.

To Eona's surprise, Nathanos' untouched form was more terrifying than the corpse-like. The undead were natural — as natural as they could be, being brought back to life. Nathanos was the farthest away from ordinary, eyes flickering over Eona, immediately reminding her of the flames of hell.

"Something's not quite right with that one," Baine muttered to Thrall with a shudder.

Eona ignored them. She smiled and held out her hand, "Hi. It's nice...to......meet.........you."

Nathanos' disinterest and judgment were plainly written across his face at her attempt of politeness, like she was the oozing corpse and he was the disgusted living. It only seemed to intensify as she spoke. "That's, um, a lovely axe. Such colorful bloodstains...they match your eyes..."