There was a war going on, and the people of the village scattered, hiding in their homes, or wherever they could find. The orcs invading now were not orcs native to this continent, in fact, if Vi were awake, she’d hardly consider them as such. Orcs, after all, the ones native to Orix, while having a nasty reputation, weren’t always all bad. Sure, most of them were, but she had met a few kind Orcs in her day, as well as a few dozen half orcs who she would at least consider an acquaintance.
Still, Vi was unable to really tell much about this distinction, because all around her the princess could see nothing but black. The world around her was dark, and her subconscious was suffocating, keeping her out of battle, and ready to be swiped.
Did they know who she was? Was this an assault against more than this town? Were these orcs here to bring Viktoria Darkcloak back with them? It was hard to say at that moment just what the plan had been, as Vi had no amount of consciousness left to figure this puzzle out. No, she was out, like a torch that had been snuffed, vulnerable to all sorts of assaults and attacks. She was a sitting duck, just as the enemy had planned. And now that the army was distracted, they would take the princess in hand.
If it was even this army who was after her in the first place.
From somewhere on a rooftop sat a smug looking drow, eyes black as coal as he swung himself off his perch. With everyone distracted, he made his way over to the princess, before lifting up her dead weight and tossing her over his shoulder. As he did this, he watched as Aconia’s best gazed upon him, not worried about Lord Gulliman with the Orc Leader in plain sight. He had two choices here, to stop the drow or slay the warlord, and considering the latter would leave him vulnerable to losing the war at hand, the sneaky little drow refused to give up his plan.
So was he working with these Orcs? Was he alone in this act? Did these orcs even care who Princess Viktoria Darkcloak was? Everything was a puzzle, and nothing in this moment made sense, nothing but the fact that Vi was in certain danger. Danger of being taken as someone’s prisoner.
Casting a tricky spell, one called dimension door, the drow formed a portal back onto the rooftops. Then, with Vi in tow, he waved at Gulliman with a sly gin, before walking right through it and landing back where he had started, the door closing behind him. From this vantage point, the drow could watch the war, though what happened now was of little concern for him. He had got what he had come for, Aconia’s most valued treasure, something that he surely had many plans for.
Gulliman was serious, he thought he’d get her home, he thought that their armor would be enough to stop her. But Vi was more than magic, she was more than just a sorcerer, in her veins flowed something more potent than they could have ever known. Choas, after all, it couldn’t be contained, not by the mage meant to wield it, or those who prepared to stand against it. Chaos was unbridled, unpredictable, and *destructive*, and while it wasn’t always her trump card, today it just might be.
If they scared her enough, she knew the chaos would unleash, and what happened after that, even Vi would not know.
Before things could escalate so dramatically, however, before Vi was pitted against the figure that’d been like her brother, a sound in the distance made it clear they weren’t alone. It made it clear that Gulliman’s army had more to worry about today than just the runaway princess they had come across.
Orcs he had said, before running out the door, leaving Vi to wonder what would be the best next move. She could stay, could try to fight; that would be the *right* thing, at least in terms of goodness for this village and its people. But if she stayed, she might have lost her one chance for a distraction. So instead of running out to help, as much as it pained her, Vi moved to slip out of the back of the tavern. She was prepared to run when she heard the sound of Orcs flooding in from the distance, when her conscience weighed too heavy to let her get very far.
”God damn it,” she muttered, before sneaking around the building, so that she could see the fight just about to break out. An army of Gulliman’s men versus a wave of oncoming orcs; maybe, just maybe, her magic would be needed here.
Coming out from behind the building, Vi was about to join the battle, when she felt something sharp peirce the side of her neck. Feeling woozy, she lifted her hand towards it, finding a dart protruding from her skin. She had just enough time to pull it out before the Princess toppled over. Whatever laced the dart was clearly meant to put her to sleep, and fall asleep is *exactly* what Princess Viktoria Darkcloak did.
"Well, the first location I can think of is Draenor. I have a good friend who could grant us access without us getting outright ambushed. You need to understand though, Burning Legion is capable of doing anything. They are capable of awakening Old Gods and creating new horrific monsters. All that they have created would take a whole day or two to name." Jaina sighed wearily, but then squared her shoulders back with a smile to spare. Small, but still confident in it's right... intended to reassure Guilliman.
"With all these locations scattered through Azeroth, it would take time for us to investigate each one and find an appropriate location that would be suitable for your comfort and safety without the risk of unintentionally instigating another war between the Horde and Alliance." Turning to Nozdormu, she gave a bow and thanked him for his assistance.
"We can leave for Draenor when you are prepared. I can conjure a portal to a safe location and I will send word ahead to my old friend. His name is Thrall, and he is an orc. He was of Horde, but I trust him. Speak to me when you are ready to depart." She then stepped aside and back, in case Guilliman wanted to speak with Nozdormu more.
Gulliman was asking her to do the impossible, to toss everything she was aside and come back to her prison. He wanted her to denounce the sorceress known as Vi, and to become Princess Viktoria Darkcloak of Aconia once again, a girl she never wanted to be as long as she so lived.
”You don’t know what you're asking of me,” Vi replied, pulling back her hand, outraged that he would even suggest such a thing to her. ”You want me to give up every part of me that makes me who I am, to once again join forces with one of the most evilfamilies in the world!”
Taking an angry swig of her drink, Vi set down the tankard hard before standing up from the table, amethyst eyes seeing red as everything he said started to sink in. ”And you want me to be a part of what? Of war? Of genocide? Of the eradication of everything unique from the world!?” She could have flipped the table next she was so angry to hear this, that her parents were trying to expand their territory so dramatically. Aconia couldn’t become all of Orix, not with its bigoted and extremist views, not when Orix as a whole was such a beautiful place to be.
”I’d sooner wage war to stop this from happening than ever become a part of my father’s grand plan. Blood aside, I’m not a Darkcloak, and I’ll never be a Aconia’s precious princess again. The only way I’m going back there is if it’s to seek my revenge on my parents for their sins. I would rather die than see Aconia reign. I will not let my father win.”
Lifting up her glass, Vi chugged the rest of it, somehow managing not to let even a single drop roll down her chin. ”I know you think you’re trying to help me, but if you go through with this, I think you’re evil, and in no means the big brother that I always thought I knew you to be. So think about your choices hard, because I meant what I said. If you try to bring me back there, then I’m going to have to try to stop you. And if you keep making me angry enough… I think chaos will help me win. Do yourself a favor, and don’t underestimate me.”
When Gulliman found a table that they could both fit at, Vi wandered over to it and did as she was instructed. She had a seat, just as she was told, before summoning a mage hand, one that lingered by her waiting for its instructions.
Waving it towards the bottle, the hand understood quickly, the floating magical appendage readying both tankards before lifting the bottle of wine. Then, like a barkeep, it expertly prepared two pours, two pours with more than a generous amount of alcohol. She was sure if the frugal barkeep would have witnessed it, he would have screamed, but thanks to Guliman, no one was around to be the wiser. Would that bode well for her in the end? Only time could tell. All she knew was he wasn’t dragging her kicking and screaming out of here, so she supposed they were off to a good start, or at least she guessed.
”When I was sixteen,” Vi said truthfully, before signaling the hand to hand her her glass. It wasted no time in following her order once again. Once the tankard was set before her, Vi lifted it and took a sip, the top shelf wine much better than the swill they had been serving to her before.
While she didn’t miss Aconia, sometimes she missed being royal, if only because she was reliant on the finer parts of life. Particularly the ale, though her clothes were far from modest. Truth be told, nothing about her could ever really be described as such.
”It was an accident at first. A cantrip I didn’t know I could cast, taking out a bad man who meant to do me harm. But then a wizard took me in, and he taught me the way of the weave, and now that I know my own power, I can never, ever look back.”
Sighing, Vi took another sip of wine, not sure what it was she could say to make him understand. ”I know my father teaches that magic is bad, but if that were true, why would the rest of Orix be so okay with it? My father and his fathers before him only preached of anti magic because they never had the skills to concur the power themselves. It’s a fear tactic above all else, my father is an awful man. Surely, after all this time, you have to have grown to see that…”
