seduction and although he knew that she toyed with him as she did others, Varo’then did not care.
The instant that she started forward, several new figures lurched out of the shadows. Despite their huge forms, the Fel Guard who acted as her personal bodyguard had remained unseen until now. Two stepped in front of the pair while the rest lined up behind. The demons waited patiently, emotionlessly, for the queen to move again.
He raised his armored forearm so that she might place her perfect, tapering fingers upon it. The captain led her through the gaily-painted marble halls of the palace to the tower where the surviving Highborne sorcerers had restarted their efforts. Sentries both night elf and demon stood at attention as they passed. Varo’then had studied the Legion enough to understand that while Mannoroth and Hakkar seemed astoundingly oblivious to the queen’s beauty, the lesser demons appeared not so immune. Her bodyguard had become especially protective of her, even keeping a wary eye on their own brethren at times.
It did not do for even demon lords to underestimate the ruler of the night elves.
A pair of felbeasts guarded the outside door. The tentacles on each houndlike demon twitched toward the pair.
Immediately the Fel Guard created a protective wall between Azshara and the hounds. Felbeasts drained magic the way some insects drank blood, and Azshara had, contrary to appearances, a great aptitude for sorcery. To the creatures, she would seem a feast.
Varo’then had his own weapon out and ready, but Azshara touched his cheek gently and said, “No, dear captain.”
With a wave of her hand, she parted the Fel Guard, then walked up to the felbeasts. Ignoring the menace of the tentacles, the queen knelt before the pair and smiled.
One monster immediately planted his fearsome head under her outstretched hand. The other opened a mouthful of rows of jagged teeth and let his thick, brutish tongue loll out the side. Both acted as Varo’then had seen three-day-old night saber kits do around Azshara.
After petting both on their coarse heads, the queen urged the monsters aside. The felbeasts readily obeyed, sitting down near the wall and looking as if hoping for some tiny treat.
The captain sheathed his weapon. No, it would not be good for anyone to underestimate his beloved monarch.
The way opened for Azshara as she stepped past the felbeasts. Following close behind, Varo’then saw immense Mannoroth look over his shoulder at the new arrivals. As much as he could read the demon’s expression, the captain noted some distress. Mannoroth, at least, was not so pleased with the coming of the Great One’s second.
And as the night elves entered, they could not help but notice that Archimonde had already arrived.
For the first time, Azshara momentarily lost a bit of her cool composure. The brief, open-mouthed gasp vanished swiftly, but it still startled Varo’then…almost as much as the demon himself did.
Archimonde stood as tall as Mannoroth, but that was where the likenesses ended. By any standard, he was far more handsome and in some ways resembled the night elves over whom he towered. His skin was a black-blue, and it took Varo’then a moment to realize that Archimonde surely had to be related to the Eredar warlocks. His build was similar and he even sported a fearsome tail like theirs. No hair covered any part of his body. His skull was huge and his ears wide and pointed. From under a narrow brow ridge, orbs of deep green stared out. He wore armor plating on his shoulders, shins, forearms and waist, but little else. An arresting display of lines and circles tattooed over his body radiated high magic.
“You are Queen Azshara,” he said in smooth, articulate words, a vast contrast to Mannoroth’s more guttural speech or Hakkar’s hiss. “Sargeras is pleased by your loyalty.”
The female night elf actually flushed.
His steady, unblinking gaze turned to Captain Varo’then. “And the Great One
The instant that she started forward, several new figures lurched out of the shadows. Despite their huge forms, the Fel Guard who acted as her personal bodyguard had remained unseen until now. Two stepped in front of the pair while the rest lined up behind. The demons waited patiently, emotionlessly, for the queen to move again.
He raised his armored forearm so that she might place her perfect, tapering fingers upon it. The captain led her through the gaily-painted marble halls of the palace to the tower where the surviving Highborne sorcerers had restarted their efforts. Sentries both night elf and demon stood at attention as they passed. Varo’then had studied the Legion enough to understand that while Mannoroth and Hakkar seemed astoundingly oblivious to the queen’s beauty, the lesser demons appeared not so immune. Her bodyguard had become especially protective of her, even keeping a wary eye on their own brethren at times.
It did not do for even demon lords to underestimate the ruler of the night elves.
A pair of felbeasts guarded the outside door. The tentacles on each houndlike demon twitched toward the pair.
Immediately the Fel Guard created a protective wall between Azshara and the hounds. Felbeasts drained magic the way some insects drank blood, and Azshara had, contrary to appearances, a great aptitude for sorcery. To the creatures, she would seem a feast.
Varo’then had his own weapon out and ready, but Azshara touched his cheek gently and said, “No, dear captain.”
With a wave of her hand, she parted the Fel Guard, then walked up to the felbeasts. Ignoring the menace of the tentacles, the queen knelt before the pair and smiled.
One monster immediately planted his fearsome head under her outstretched hand. The other opened a mouthful of rows of jagged teeth and let his thick, brutish tongue loll out the side. Both acted as Varo’then had seen three-day-old night saber kits do around Azshara.
After petting both on their coarse heads, the queen urged the monsters aside. The felbeasts readily obeyed, sitting down near the wall and looking as if hoping for some tiny treat.
The captain sheathed his weapon. No, it would not be good for anyone to underestimate his beloved monarch.
The way opened for Azshara as she stepped past the felbeasts. Following close behind, Varo’then saw immense Mannoroth look over his shoulder at the new arrivals. As much as he could read the demon’s expression, the captain noted some distress. Mannoroth, at least, was not so pleased with the coming of the Great One’s second.
And as the night elves entered, they could not help but notice that Archimonde had already arrived.
For the first time, Azshara momentarily lost a bit of her cool composure. The brief, open-mouthed gasp vanished swiftly, but it still startled Varo’then…almost as much as the demon himself did.
Archimonde stood as tall as Mannoroth, but that was where the likenesses ended. By any standard, he was far more handsome and in some ways resembled the night elves over whom he towered. His skin was a black-blue, and it took Varo’then a moment to realize that Archimonde surely had to be related to the Eredar warlocks. His build was similar and he even sported a fearsome tail like theirs. No hair covered any part of his body. His skull was huge and his ears wide and pointed. From under a narrow brow ridge, orbs of deep green stared out. He wore armor plating on his shoulders, shins, forearms and waist, but little else. An arresting display of lines and circles tattooed over his body radiated high magic.
“You are Queen Azshara,” he said in smooth, articulate words, a vast contrast to Mannoroth’s more guttural speech or Hakkar’s hiss. “Sargeras is pleased by your loyalty.”
The female night elf actually flushed.
His steady, unblinking gaze turned to Captain Varo’then. “And the Great One
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