The wind howled over the dark waters as Sylvanas Windrunner stood at the bow of her ship, The Forsaken vessel, shadowed and foreboding, creaked and groaned as the purple banners foreign kingdom waved in the distance. a beacon of potential alliance or conflict.

The docks were bustling as Sylvanas and her crew came to shore. their appearance drawing immediate attention. The people on the docks froze, their gazes oscillating between fear and outrage. Sylvanas had anticipated hostility. But not this.

“Hold!” she commanded sharply, her voice cutting through the murmurs.

The guards stepped forward, their weapons drawn. From their expressions, it was clear they were not there to talk.

“You dare bring your filth to our shores?” one of them snarled, his sword raised. “This is an act of war!”

“I am here under a flag of parley,” Sylvanas replied, her tone measured and firm. “I seek an audience with your king to discuss the Scarlet Crusade, who are as much a threat to you as they are to my people.”

“Leave now, or we will remove you,” the guard shouts.

Sylvanas’ gripped her bow tightly, but before she could respond, the crowd erupted into chaos. A spear flew through the air, striking one of her Forsaken, and the retaliatory movement from her crew sealed the escalating violence. Desperation flared in her. They think I am the monster they claim me to be, she thought bitterly. So be it.

The sound that tore from her throat was like nothing the mortals had ever heard. a banshee’s wail. But Sylvanas’ strike had missed its mark. Amid the chaos, a figure crumples to the ground. The moment froze around her. Acting on instinct, Sylvanas lunged forward. Her arms closed around the girls limp body before anyone could stop her. The woman was light, fragile in her grip, her pulse faint but there.

“Fall back!” she ordered her crew, her voice cold and sharp.

Her Forsaken surged to obey, cutting a path to the ship. With the girl in her arms, Sylvanas moved swiftly, leaping onto the vessel as arrows began to rain down from her flank.