Conflict and hatred afflict the world of Azeroth, a disease that has been spreading for generations. Horde and Alliance march to war endlessly, and no accord seems to put an end to the hostilities.
Teldrassil has burned.
Lordaeron is in ruins.
But i...
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There were few things more beautiful than the sight of snow covered mountains. The cold air and the white coat truly made him feel like home, and blurry memories of his childhood returned to him. There he was, playing with his mother's wolves, and yanking the dense fur of his father's mighty companion. He didn't relate snow with the day he was kidnapped, stripped from his family's warmth. An even though he spent many years with his mother, Otka Wolfkin's honor and will to live had been removed from her. Dunris was the only reason she kept struggling, clinging to this life with ferocity; but each passing day, he could see her eyes losing their glint little by little.
But no, he didn't recall those dark days when he witnessed the beauty of the snow. The cold mountains meant that there was always water available, and no one ever suffered from thirst or harsh heat. Few orcs had ever died to low temperatures, as their thick skin protected them from the most frigid of winds. He didn't recall to their hard campaign at Northrend; instead he reminded the moment they had been victorious over the Scourge. Definitely, to Dunris and his brothers, snow meant happiness.
Even if that white mantle was covering the lands of Dun Morogh, one of the bastions of Alliance Territory. The entire region was inhabited by dwarves and gnomes, but to be honest, Wolfeye did quite enjoy the company of those people. Especially dwarves; they knew their drinking, they had an amazing sense of humor, and mostly, they never ran away from a fight. They were the first enemy race that Dunris had learned to respect; over the years, he had stopped considering them an enemy race at all.
As they approached the coastline of Dun Morogh, the Shaman could feel the tension of his allies. In order to stick to the plan, Osmond had to leave his precious ship behind, as it was impossible to conceal an entire Forsaken boat. Instead of that, everyone was on board of the La Suerte, and Syla's ship was working better than ever; even the Kul Tiras woman seemed to enjoy to see her ship work at full capacity. She had a crew of twenty people, while Osmond's men were thirteen, including himself. And with the full group of Ambassadors, the La Suerte had plenty of manpower to tend to its many tasks.
"Be careful, we don't have to seem suspicious", Argheros warned. "Dwarves are incredibly vigilant of their lands, grazing the paranoia", he added.
"Don't worry, honey", Syla answered with a bold and adventurous voice; she was clearly in her zone. "Leave this to me. If anyone catches us, I'll pay the drinks", her entire crew cheered. "Shut up, you idiots! Even if you morons manage to get ourselves caught, you still have to be alive to drink!"
The journey through the Great Sea had been complicated, for they had had to sort many Horde flagships, storms and sea monsters, only to enter the Maelstrom area. Even though Wolfeye was quite familiar with that zone, the tempest was constantly a threat, punishing every ship that dared cross its waters. Syla had decided to take that route in order to avoid any possible fleet, Horde or Alliance alike, as both factions wouldn't risk losing any ship. But she was different, and she was certain that the La Suerte could sort any obstacle. Dunris felt grateful that she had decided to join their cause.
