so, my visit seemed rather rushed.”
“Did you get to spend time with your parents?” Kinndy’s father, Windle, was entrusted with the important duty of lighting all of Dalaran’s streetlights with his wand in the evening. According to Kinndy, he so enjoyed the task that he sold wands that enabled others to experience it themselves a time or two. Her mother, Jaxi, often provided baked goods for the high elf Aimee to sell at her stall, and the gnome’s red velvet cupcakes were extremely popular. This heritage was part of the reason that Kinndy was so frustrated at her own—in her opinion—subpar pastries.
“I did!”
“And yet you still want cookies,” Jaina teased.
Kinndy shrugged. “What can I say? Every tooth I have is a sweet tooth,” she replied with the cheerful attitude that Jaina had come to expect, but it was clear something continued to worry the gnome. Jaina placed her plate down on the table.
“Kinndy, I know that you are supposed to report back to the Kirin Tor. That was part of the agreement. But you’re also my apprentice. If you have any problems with me as your master—”
The blue eyes widened. “You? Oh, Lady Jaina, it’s not you at all! It’s just—I felt that something was off in Dalaran. You could sense it in the air. And Master Rhonin’s behavior didn’t help put me at ease.”
Jaina was impressed. Not all magi developed the sixth sense thattold them, as Kinndy had put it, that there was something “off.” Jaina herself had the ability, to a degree. She couldn’t always tell when things were magically amiss, but when she did get that feeling, she paid attention to it. And Kinndy was only twenty-two.
Jaina smiled a bit wistfully. “Master Rhonin was right about you,” she said. “He said you were gifted.”
Kinndy blushed, just a little.
“Well, I’m sure if there is something truly amiss, we’ll hear about it soon enough,” Jaina said. “In the meantime, did you finish the book I sent along with you?”
Kinndy sighed. “ An In-Depth Analysis of the Temporal Effects of Conjuration of Foodstuffs ?”
“That would be the one, yes.”
“I did. Although…” She hesitated and wouldn’t meet Jaina’s eyes.
“What’s wrong?”
“Well… I think there’s now a smudge of frosting on page forty-three.”
• • •
Night fell in Orgrimmar. The heat dwindled but did not dissipate; the hard-baked sand, devoid of vegetation, held the sun’s heat, as did the large, newly constructed metal buildings. Orgrimmar, like all of Durotar, was hardly a pleasant place from a climate standpoint. It never had been, and now it was even less so.
That suited Malkorok just fine.
He found the heat of Durotar uncomfortable, as he had found the heat of the interior of Blackrock Mountain. And that was good. The best thing that had ever happened to the orc people was leaving the softness of places like Nagrand back on their homeworld of Draenor. This was a place that tested one’s mettle, that tempered and tried one. It was not good to become too comfortable. And part of Malkorok’s job was to see to it that no orc grew too comfortable.
Some orcs at the recent gathering had been too comfortable. Too secure in the rightness of their opinions. They had openly voiced displeasure and disagreement with one who was not just their warchiefbut the leader of their own kind. The leader of the orcs ! The very arrogance of it caused Malkorok to grit his teeth in anger. He forced himself to stay silent as he moved quietly through the streets.
He had told Garrosh that they were all worth watching. Garrosh had initially assumed Malkorok meant that all the leaders of the various races composing the Horde should be observed. The Blackrock orc had a much, much larger view. When he said they were “all” worth watching, he meant the entire Horde.
Every member of the Horde.
And so it was that he’d had had some of his best orcs follow a few of the malcontents who had dared to
“Did you get to spend time with your parents?” Kinndy’s father, Windle, was entrusted with the important duty of lighting all of Dalaran’s streetlights with his wand in the evening. According to Kinndy, he so enjoyed the task that he sold wands that enabled others to experience it themselves a time or two. Her mother, Jaxi, often provided baked goods for the high elf Aimee to sell at her stall, and the gnome’s red velvet cupcakes were extremely popular. This heritage was part of the reason that Kinndy was so frustrated at her own—in her opinion—subpar pastries.
“I did!”
“And yet you still want cookies,” Jaina teased.
Kinndy shrugged. “What can I say? Every tooth I have is a sweet tooth,” she replied with the cheerful attitude that Jaina had come to expect, but it was clear something continued to worry the gnome. Jaina placed her plate down on the table.
“Kinndy, I know that you are supposed to report back to the Kirin Tor. That was part of the agreement. But you’re also my apprentice. If you have any problems with me as your master—”
The blue eyes widened. “You? Oh, Lady Jaina, it’s not you at all! It’s just—I felt that something was off in Dalaran. You could sense it in the air. And Master Rhonin’s behavior didn’t help put me at ease.”
Jaina was impressed. Not all magi developed the sixth sense thattold them, as Kinndy had put it, that there was something “off.” Jaina herself had the ability, to a degree. She couldn’t always tell when things were magically amiss, but when she did get that feeling, she paid attention to it. And Kinndy was only twenty-two.
Jaina smiled a bit wistfully. “Master Rhonin was right about you,” she said. “He said you were gifted.”
Kinndy blushed, just a little.
“Well, I’m sure if there is something truly amiss, we’ll hear about it soon enough,” Jaina said. “In the meantime, did you finish the book I sent along with you?”
Kinndy sighed. “ An In-Depth Analysis of the Temporal Effects of Conjuration of Foodstuffs ?”
“That would be the one, yes.”
“I did. Although…” She hesitated and wouldn’t meet Jaina’s eyes.
“What’s wrong?”
“Well… I think there’s now a smudge of frosting on page forty-three.”
• • •
Night fell in Orgrimmar. The heat dwindled but did not dissipate; the hard-baked sand, devoid of vegetation, held the sun’s heat, as did the large, newly constructed metal buildings. Orgrimmar, like all of Durotar, was hardly a pleasant place from a climate standpoint. It never had been, and now it was even less so.
That suited Malkorok just fine.
He found the heat of Durotar uncomfortable, as he had found the heat of the interior of Blackrock Mountain. And that was good. The best thing that had ever happened to the orc people was leaving the softness of places like Nagrand back on their homeworld of Draenor. This was a place that tested one’s mettle, that tempered and tried one. It was not good to become too comfortable. And part of Malkorok’s job was to see to it that no orc grew too comfortable.
Some orcs at the recent gathering had been too comfortable. Too secure in the rightness of their opinions. They had openly voiced displeasure and disagreement with one who was not just their warchiefbut the leader of their own kind. The leader of the orcs ! The very arrogance of it caused Malkorok to grit his teeth in anger. He forced himself to stay silent as he moved quietly through the streets.
He had told Garrosh that they were all worth watching. Garrosh had initially assumed Malkorok meant that all the leaders of the various races composing the Horde should be observed. The Blackrock orc had a much, much larger view. When he said they were “all” worth watching, he meant the entire Horde.
Every member of the Horde.
And so it was that he’d had had some of his best orcs follow a few of the malcontents who had dared to
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