Seeking the Prophet
Grom estimated this was the most interesting Mak'gora-like fight he'd ever encountered, although there were three opponents, all of them women. Grommash, who had no concept of gender discrimination, was surprised by the women's swift and decisive attacks. And their unique weapon, a type of blade that could be thrown and retrieved, nearly injured Grom several times.
His enemies resembled the Elf of Quel'Thalas. Grom firmly believed these newly emerged Elf were more powerful and dangerous. However, the Warsong Clan overseer was not so easily defeated. Orcs familiar with Grommash knew he was merely toying with him. In head-on combat, Grom never came out on top.
The battle-hardened Warsong Warlord quickly found a weakness in the enemy's attack. He skillfully dodged the sharp blades and used Gorehowl to disrupt their coordination. The two sides exchanged blows, neither sustaining a serious injury. However, it was clear to everyone that the three Female Elf attempting to "uphold justice" were no match for Grommash. The Orcs simply didn't want to kill them.
After fighting for over a hundred rounds, the Elf and Orcs realized that this burly, tall, green-skinned creature was not so easy to deal with. They exchanged glances and then spoke in a language Grom couldn't understand.
Grommash thought they had some secret tactics, but it turned out they just threw out their weapons, forcing him to parry and dodge in order to buy him a chance to retreat.
"Cunning Elf." Grom spat on the ground, then laughed loudly. The Warsong Orcs cheered for their leader. Grommash and his Warrior realized that things were no longer boring; there were enemies in this forest, enemies worthy of their battle.
"Madam, we've discovered something."
Sylvanas is studying the route they are taking. In the past few days, they have found some traces of the Undead during their pursuit, but they are just stray zombies.
"Slow down, guard. What exactly is going on?"
"We've discovered humans, and Orcs too!"
The Female Elf raised an eyebrow. Humans and Orcs? This meant there was a battle ahead. Furthermore, Sylvanas was puzzled as to why these two races were here. Lordaeron was already destroyed, and it was understandable that humans fled to this continent, but what about the Orcs? Why weren't those monsters wiped out by the Scourge Undead?
"Where are they? Where are the humans and Orcs located?"
"It's on the mountain ahead of us, madam. There are many humans, and Orcs as well."
"So it seems that humans need our power." Sylvanas nodded to herself after hearing this. She planned to help those humans, and if possible, perhaps she could get their help and find out more about the Undead.
The Ranger reporting to her questioned Sylvanas's hasty decision. It was common knowledge that the Elf had withdrawn from the Alliance after the Second War to avoid paying for Orcs internment camps. This sounded rather ungrateful, and it made the relationship between humans and Elf quite awkward.
"The Alliance is long gone, madam. The alliance between Elf and humans no longer exists. Is it really necessary for us to interfere in human affairs now?"
The soldier's words enraged his superior. Sylvanas jumped up from the ground and rebuked him, "No matter how much time has passed, we should never forget the days when we fought alongside humans, nor should we forget the crimes committed by the Horde scum against Quel'Thalas. Since those monsters were not destroyed along with Lordaeron, and were not burned to death in the containment facility, then let us uphold justice."
"But aren't the Undead our main enemy right now?"
"Undead and Orcs are the same," Sylvanas argued firmly. No one needed to remind her of this; the Female Elf knew perfectly well that most of the Farstrider who followed her were unwilling. In fact, now that she had found traces of humans, she could easily act on her own. The number of humans was considerable, indicating that their leader was a person of prestige. Sylvanas longed to meet her and persuade her to cooperate. However, out of duty, she could not abandon the Farstrider and act alone.
Stoneclaw Mountain seemed bustling with activity. The closer Sylvanas got to the summit, the stronger the stench of blood and the louder the commotion became. As a battle-hardened Ranger, Sylvanas knew all too well the importance of battlefield positioning. To avoid attracting attention, the Elf used grappling hooks to scale the mountaintop. To her surprise, the human camp had no way out. The only passage had been seized by Orcs. The Female Elf felt a pang of disappointment, wondering if the human leaders lacked combat experience; otherwise, why would they have chosen this dead-end alley to establish their camp?
"Madam, there are several humans surrounded over there."
Sylvanas turned her head slightly to look. Just as the Ranger beside her had reported, a pack of wolf riders had surrounded several human soldiers and a human mage in that direction. The mage's robes were embroidered with an extremely intricate golden eye, and below the eye were three golden daggers pointing to the ground.
"Kirin Tor mage?" The Female Elf peered out to examine it closely, confirming it was indeed the mark of Dalaran. Were there Dalaran people among these humans?
Should we go and help them?
The Ranger's tone clearly betrayed his reluctance, but Sylvanas wouldn't care about his feelings.
"For Quel'Thalas!" The Female Elf charged forward, her actions jolting the hesitant Ranger to their senses. She was swift yet agile. The Orcs were only surprised to find her approaching when the Worg caught her scent. The humans were equally bewildered, but Sylvanas's appearance saved their lives. Her short sword danced wildly, like a whirlwind of death. She briefly vented her hatred for the Undead on the Orcs. Therefore, she didn't rely on her superior marksmanship, but rather wanted to see the Orcs bleed up at close range, which would release the pent-up rage within her more quickly. The other Elf joined the battle, leaving no Orcs unscathed.
After everything was over, only Elf and humans remained.
Sylvanas regained her composure; she was still panting, but that didn't stop her from asking about the important matter at hand.
"Greetings, humans. I am Sylvanas Windrunner, from Quel'Thalas."
"Lady from the Elven Kingdom?" It was the mage who answered her. "I never expected to meet Quel'Thalas's friends here. I am very sorry for what happened to you."
"The Kirin Tor's fate is equally pitiful. I've heard that Arthas has already breached Dalaran!" Sylvanas stated the same fact, humans and Elf were truly in the same boat. "I don't yet know your name, Your Excellency."
"Tervosh, from Dalaran. He is now an advisor to Lady Proudmoore."
Sylvanas frowned. "Proudmoore? Admiral of the Sea? No, you just said you were an advisor to a lady."
Tervosh nodded. "Indeed, beautiful Elf lady. I'm referring to Jaina Proudmoore, the daughter of the naval admiral, who led the refugees fleeing from Lordaeron."
"A girl?" The Female Elf shook her head seriously. "She really led you to a dead end. Your camp is confined to the top of the mountain, and there is no way out."
"You may have misunderstood. Lady Jaina came here not to fight the Orcs, but to find a prophet."
"Prophet?"