the volume she was trying to move and the spell s violent end made these circumstances far from the best。 Jaina
wanted nothing more than to lie down and join the lizards in their slumber； but she couldn t afford that。 The spell
would only keep the lizards asleep for six hours possibly less because the spell was so diffuse。 She had to find out
what there was in Bladescar that kept her from pleting the spell。
She sat； folding her legs together； letting her hands fall limply to her side； and controlled her breathing。 Then she
once again cast her senses outward； this time toward the Bladescar range； specifically the small area in the center of
the mountainous region。
It didn t take her long to find what she was looking for。
Someone had put up wards around the entire highlands。 From this distance； Jaina could not pinpoint the type of
magic being used； but the wards were precisely the type designed to among other things disrupt teleportation
spells in order to keep whatever was inside the wards protected。
Jaina stood and collected herself。 She was about to start the teleportation spell that would bring her to Bladescar；
then stopped herself。 Reaching into the small pack attached to her belt； she took out some jerky。 Another of
Antonidas s earliest lessons was a reminder that magic used the body； and the only way to replenish the body was
to consume food。 More wizards； he had said； have wasted away because they were so busy exploring the
wonders of magic that they fot to eat。
Her jaw aching from chewing the tough dried meat； the newly refreshed Jaina then cast the spell that would take her
to a spot just outside the wards placed around the highlands。
The one flaw in her plan to eat before teleporting was that the stomach rumblings she often felt as a side effect of
the spell were far more pronounced with undigested food still in her belly。 But she pushed past the effect as she
stood on the steep incline that more or less demarcated the beginning of the highlands。 Below and behind her was a
sheer cliff。 In front of her was the slanted grasslands。 There was barely enough room to stand。
Of course； the wards were invisible to the naked eye。 But Jaina could noheless feel them。 They were not
particularly powerful； but they didn t really need to be。 In fact； if the object was to hide someone or something
which Jaina was being more and more convinced was the case here it was best to keep the wards at a low
level。 Too powerful； and they would be like a beacon to any mage。
This close； Jaina also recognized the flavor of the magic that had cast these wards。 She last felt it in the pany of
Medivh； during the war。 This was Tirisfalen magic but all the Guardians were supposed to be dead； including
Medivh； the last of them。
Removing the wards now that she knew they were there was but the work of a gesture。 She then walked ahead
and started to explore the highlands； pausing to put a concealment spell on herself so she could move about
undetected。
At first； it was just as she expected： grasslands； dotted with fruitbearing bushes and the occasional tree。 A wind
blew in off the Great Sea； funneled by the mountains and billowing Jaina s white cloak behind her。 It had been
cloudy back at Thunder Ridge； but the highlands were above the cloud line； so it was bright and sunny here。 Jaina
cast her cloak s hood back so she could enjoy the feeling of the sun on her face。
Soon she came across the first sign of whatever was hiding： several of the bushes had had their fruit picked
recently。 As she continued to walk uphill； she found a well that had been built； with some firewood stacked next to
it。 On the other side of a large tree； she saw a large hut。 Rows of plants vegetables； mostly； and some spices
were planted in an orderly manner in an area behind the hut that was more or less level。
A moment later； a woman came into view。 She was dressed only in a threadbare light blue linen dress； her feet were
bare。 Her gait was steady； and as she approached the well； Jaina saw that she was unusually tall for a woman
certainly taller than Jaina herself。 In addition； she was unmistakably old。 Wrinkles marred her face； which Jaina
thought must once have been beautiful。 The woman had white hair held in place with a tarnished silver diadem； and
the deepest green eyes Jaina had ever seen。 They matched the cracked jade pendant she wore around her neck。
Suddenly； the hairs on the back of Jaina s neck stood on end； as she thought she recognized the woman。 They had
never met； of course； but she d read descriptions during her apprenticeship； and all the accounts made mention of
her great height； her blond hair held simply with a silver diadem and her eyes。 Everyone was sure to mention
those jade eyes。
Certainly； if it was her； it explained the wards。 Yet she was supposed to have died long ago…。
The woman put her hands on her hips。 I know you re there； so you might as well not waste that concealment
spell。 She shook her head as she moved to the well and lowered a bucket by letting down the rope hand over hand。
Honestly； they don t teach you young mages anything these days。 Violet Citadel s gone to pot； and that s the
truth。
Jaina dropped the concealment。 The woman barely reacted beyond making a tsk noise while lowering the rope。
My name is Lady Jaina Proudmoore。 I rule Theramore； the human city on this continent。
Good for you。 When you get back to this Theramore place； work on that concealment spell。 Couldn t hide from a
bloodhound with a cold with that thing。
Her mind reeling； Jaina realized that this woman couldn t possibly be anyone but who she thought it was；
impossible as that might have been。 Magna； it s an honor to meet you。 I had thought that you were
Dead？ The woman snorted as she started pulling the rope back up； her mouth showing the signs of the greater
strain of lifting a waterfilled bucket。 I am dead； Lady Jaina Proudmoore of Theramore or as close as makes no
never mind。 And don t go calling me Magna。 That was another time and another place； and I m not that woman
anymore。
The title is not one you lose； Magna。 And I cannot bring myself to call you anything else。
Balderdash。 If you re gonna call me anything； call me by my name。 Call me Aegwynn。
Nine
F or many years； Rexxar； last of the Mok Nathal Clan； walked the continent of Kalimdor alone； save for the
pany of the big brown bear； Misha。 Born of orc and ogre blood both； as most of his nowdefunct clan； he had
grown weary of the squabbling and ruthlessness and endless war that characterized what was laughingly referred to
as civilization。 In truth； Rexxar found more civilization in Misha s fellow bears or the wolves of Winterspring than
in any of the human； dwarven； elven； or troll cities that marred the landscape。
No； Rexxar preferred to wander； living off the land； and being answerable to none。 If he ever felt the urge to call a
place home； he knew that he had one in Durotar。 During the founding of the orc nation； Rexxar had e to the aid
of a dying orc who was charged with bringing a message to Thrall。 Granting the warrior his final wish； Rexxar had
brought Thrall the report； and found himself amid orcs who had gone back to the old ways； before Gul dan and his
Shadow Council destroyed a oncegreat people。
But； though Rexxar was honored to call Thrall a rade and swear fealty to him； and was happy to fulfill that oath
by aiding the orcs against Admiral Proudmoore s treachery； among other services； in the end； Rexxar preferred to
wander。 Even as great a nation as Durotar had towns and settlements and order。 Rexxar was built for the chaos of
the wild。
Without warning； Misha broke into a run。
Hesitating for but a second； Rexxar followed his panion。 He couldn t hope to keep up with the fourlegged
animal s loping gait； of course； but the halfbreed s powerful legs were enough to keep him within sight of her。
Misha wouldn t bolt from her panion s side without good reason。
They were in a region near the coast； filled with high grass。 Though lesser beings might have found the terrain
difficult to cross； Rexxar and Misha had sufficient strength to bend the grasses to their will。
It was only a minute later that Misha came to a halt； her snout invisible as it dipped into the shoulderhigh blades。
Rexxar slowed down and put his hand to the hilt of one of the axes strapped to his back。
What he found what Misha had scented was the body of a fullblooded orc。 Rexxar knew this because a
considerable amount of its blood had been shed。
His hands falling to his side； Rexxar shook his head。 A fallen warrior。 It is only a pity that he died alone； without
rades to aid him in battle。
Before the halfbreed wanderer could contemplate putting the brave orc s soul to rest； he heard a whisper。
Not…dead…yet…
Misha made a yowling noise； as if surprised that the orc could speak。 Peering down closely at what he had believed
to be a corpse； Rexxar saw that the orc had lost an eye。 The dead socket was healed over； so the wound had not
been inflicted by the same hand or hands that had brought him to the brink now。
Burning…Blade…must…get…to…rimmar。 Thrall…warned。 Burning…Blade…
Rexxar knew not what was so important about a blade that burned； but this warrior was obviously clinging to life
only because he had yet to provide the necessary intelligence to Thrall。 Recalling the oath he had sworn to the
Warchief； Rexxar asked； What is your name？
By Byrok。
Fear not； noble Byrok。 I am Rexxar of the Mok Nathal； and I swear to you that Misha and I will see you brought to
rimmar to deliver your warning to the Warchief。
Rexxar…you…are known…to me…We…must…make haste…
The halfbreed could not say the same of this Byrok； but it mattered not。 With a gentleness he rarely had cause to
employ； he lifted Byrok s bleeding form and lay him across Misha s expansive back。 The bear bore the weight with
no protest though they had sworn no actual oath； the bond between Rexxar and Misha was unbreakable。 If Rexxar
desired it； Misha would do it。
Without another word； they turned westward toward rimmar。
The first time Rexxar came to rimmar； it was still being built。 Around him had been many dozens of orcs
building structures； clearing pathways； and transforming the harsh wilderness of Kalimdor into a home。
Upon his return now； that work had been done； but there were still many dozens of orcs visible through the gates；
engaged in the daytoday business of life。 Though he had little use for civilization； Rexxar did feel pride and joy in
what he saw。 Since ing to this world； his mother s people had either been cursed tools of Gul dan s demonic
masters or broken slaves of their human enemies。 If orcs were to live in this world； better it be on their own terms。
Surrounded on three sides by hills； a massive stone wall had been built on the city s fourth side。 Reinforced with
giant wooden logs； the wall was broken only by a large wooden gate； currently open； and two wooden watchtowers。
Atop the wall were more logs； sharpened to a point to discourage enemies from storming the gates； and poles with
pointed ends。 T