"Then we shall return in a few days. Farewell."
Shandris felt the Elder's hesitation clearly. Accustomed to getting what she wanted, she turned to leave without further argument.
"Hmph! Standing before you is a Natural Demigod, the daughter of High Priestess Tyrande and His Majesty Arthas, and the First Princess of Lordaeron," Warlord Naz'jar spat, her temper flaring. "You dither and stall, old man? Careful, or I'll gut you where you stand!"
Naz'jar had no patience for these "mortal" races. To her, if they had saved them and received no gratitude in return, the logical next step was execution. Why leave ungrateful curs alive to bite you later?
"Warlord Naz'jar, do not be rude to our hosts," Shandris chided calmly. "We are newcomers; it is natural for them to be suspicious. Let us go."
Shandris used violence when necessary, but she didn't revel in it. She wasn't a mindless butcher.
As they stepped outside, Xia Wu—the Pandaren they had saved—scurried over like a devoted sycophant, thrusting a parchment into her hands.
"Princess Shandris, this is a map of the Jade Forest. It's the most complete one I could find. Please, don't tell my grandfather! I 'borrowed' it from his room."
What a prodigal grandson. If Elder Keppo knew, he'd likely keel over from a heart attack. While he was carefully weighing the geopolitical implications of the newcomers, his grandson was busy handing over the keys to the kingdom to a pretty face.
Shandris took the map with a slight nod. "Thank you. We're leaving."
The Naga legion hadn't entered the village, but their terrifying appearance had already sent shivers through the locals. "What kind of monsters are these? Even uglier than the Jinyu!" the Pandaren whispered. It was lucky Naz'jar didn't hear them; comparing the high-born Naga to mere Jinyu would have resulted in an immediate bloodbath.
Scanning the map, Shandris locked onto a series of high mountains in the southeast. It was perfect: high ground for the Night Elves, well-ventilated, with a coastline below for the Naga to inhabit.
She summoned her Hippogryph. As Shandris ascended to demigod status, her pet had begun to undergo a similar transformation, its lifespan lengthening and its speed increasing. It was the ultimate evolution for a loyal mount.
Reaching the summit, Shandris tossed down the Ivory Tower. The toy-sized object hit the ground and began to expand rapidly, constructing a massive stone foundation and raising walls automatically.
"How many secrets does Father have?" Shandris wondered with a giggle. She didn't care to pry; every family has its secrets.
Sivara watched the tower complete itself with professional curiosity. The Naga had received similar "toys" before. They weren't the strongest fortifications, but they were incredibly convenient for establishing a magical presence and clearing the "fog of war."
"Find a place to rest," Shandris commanded. "We wait for my father's arrival."
Sivara, being a Marshal, didn't rest. She ordered a camp set up, started fires for cooking, and sent the Royal Guards out to scout. Safety first; resources later.
Before lunch could be served, a massive horde of Hozen appeared, having tracked the Naga who killed their kin. They hadn't come alone; they had rallied the local Quilboar and Jinyu to launch a joint assault.
The Hozen chief had promised his allies that the female Naga would be theirs. The Quilboar and Jinyu, savage and perpetually lacking females of their own due to the hoarding habits of their own tribal leaders, were driven into a frenzy by the promise of "new blood." They charged with the reckless bravery of the ignorant, having never seen the Burning Legion or fought the servants of Old Gods. To them, these outsiders were just more slaves to be taken.
Shandris watched them approach. She saw the lustful, primal hunger in their eyes—a look she had once seen in the Kobolds of Lordaeron before Onyxia had them slaughtered to "correct" their behavior.
"Leave none alive," Shandris said to Sivara, her voice icy. "Find out which clans they belong to. Once we are settled, we will enslave the rest."
"As you command, Highness."
A tide of ten thousand Hozen, Jinyu, and Quilboar surged toward the heights. Hozen threw bone spears from the cliffs, Jinyu charged through the shallow waters, and Quilboar swung massive axes.
Against them stood three hundred Naga elites. The front rank of Royal Guards held their tridents steady, their scales shimmering with a cold light. Behind them, the Naga Archmagi hovered, blue arcane energy swirling around their fingers.
Before the vanguard even reached thirty paces, the mages struck. Thick bolts of water, moving like lightning, impaled the lead Quilboar. Then, an arcane barrage wove a net of death across the middle ranks. A Hozen shaman raised a totem only to be torn apart by raw energy; a Jinyu priest's healing spell was forcibly stripped away and turned into a volley of ice spikes that impaled his own people.
One Naga Archmage raised a hand, and a giant hand of arcane energy slammed into a hill covered with enemy casters, crushing hundreds instantly.
The Royal Guards moved forward under the magical cover, their tridents carving through the locals like scythes through wheat. The blood on their scales was washed clean instantly by the water veils surrounding them.
The locals' numbers meant nothing against the absolute gap in power. When half their number lay dead, the Jinyu tried to flee, followed quickly by the Hozen. But the order was "total annihilation."
A magical mist rose from the river, conjured by the mages. One breath caused total disorientation. Those who tried to break through were pinned to bamboo trees by ice lances.
Supported by the "Brilliance Aura" from their faith in Arthas, the mages were tireless magical machine guns. The Royal Guards were even more terrifying, empowered by a suite of auras: Unholy for speed, Vampiric for healing, Devotion for defense, and Command for raw power. They struck twice before a Quilboar could even lift a hammer.
Within one hour, the ten-thousand-strong "army" was erased.
Naz'jar looked over the blood-soaked slopes with satisfaction. "Use Soul-Searching to find their villages," she told a sea-witch. "And gather the bodies. They will make excellent feed."
In the Lordaeron Empire, you weren't allowed to eat allied races, but enemies were fair game. Most corpses were processed into high-quality fertilizer to boost crop yields, while some were sent to the dinosaur pens in Sholazar Basin.
Since Freya—the Guardian of Life—was currently carrying Arthas's child in Ulduar, she was more than happy to let her consort turn the Titan laboratories of Un'Goro and Sholazar into the Empire's personal larder and trade zones. In the hierarchy of the world, she was the ultimate administrator; opening a few "back doors" for her husband was the easiest thing in the world.