Author's Note: I really, really, really like Horde/Alliance interaction. Which is weird because in game I'm always going out of my way to kill Allies. Go figure.

Disclaimer: I don't own World of Warcraft, I've stolen nothing from you, I don't own World of Warcraft, so Blizzard, please don't sue.

--

Under Certain Circumstances

It was dusk in Ashenvale. The setting sun had ignited the western sky with brilliant shades of orange and yellow, fading into tranquil indigo to the east, and finally the deep star-studded ebony of night. Fading beams of light pierced the canopy of verdant leaves, leaving trailing veils of golden sunlight that drifted down to the forest floor, scattering dappled patterns of light and shadow upon the ground. Occasionally, a leaf would fall from its branch, twisting and floating down and down through waves of liquid sunlight and eddies of blackest night, only to gently come to rest upon the soft, mossy grass. To Shanna, draenei and Paladin of the Holy Light, it was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen.

Or, it would have been if she wasn't being attacked by giant spiders.

Whirling quickly to the left, she swung her war hammer in a wide arc, smashing into the side of a leaping spider and sending it soaring off into a tree. Behind her, a second spider leapt into the air, determined to sink it's fangs into her back. Seeing the movement in the corner of her eye, she spun around to face the pouncing arachnid, swinging her war-hammer upwards to land a crippling strike to the spider's abdomen. Suddenly, she felt a constricting pressure around her right arm, causing her to drop her hammer. Looking down, she saw a web of silk bound to her arm, trailing back to the spider which had shot it and was slowly reeling her towards it. Planting her feet firmly in the ground, Shanna called upon the Light to bless her with its holy power. Then, grabbing the silk web, she twisted around and jerked with all her might, causing the spider to be swung around by its own web and smash headfirst into a rock. The dying spider let out a horrible shriek of death, twitching violently as its insides spilled onto the ground. Though, almost as soon as it began, the shriek dwindled into nothing, the twitching stopped, and the spider curled up into the stiff pose of death.

Air flew from Shanna's lungs as she let out the breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. Panting lightly, she turned around to retrieve her war hammer. She found herself face to face with a rearing spider. She managed to throw her arms up in front of her face. Milliseconds later, the spider pounced. Over two hundred pounds of gigantic arachnid crashed into Shanna, sending her crashing to her back, the spider's bulk pinning her down. Inches from her face, massive fangs clawed at the air, held at bay by her armored forearms. The beast strained and writhed, desperate to sink its fangs into her tender flesh. She resisted the spider's assault with every fiber of her being, but still the fangs crept ever closer. Fat droplets of lethal venom began to gather at the fang's razor sharp tips and drop onto Shanna's face. She squirmed in pain as the deadly venom left trails of irritation as it ran down her cheeks.

With only seconds until she was overpowered, Shanna called out desperately to the Light. At first, there was nothing. Then, it was as though a tiny fire had been light deep within her soul. Almost immediately that fire grew into a raging cascade of Holy Power that filled her entire being with new strength and resolve until it seemed ready to overflow. With a mighty roar of defiance, she channeled the might of the Holy Light up her arms, through her hands, and into the belly of the foul beast. The spider was sent careening across the clearing, landing in a heap on the forest floor. Instantly, Shanna was on her feet, sprinting toward the prone spider. Scooping up her hammer, she crossed the distance to the beast almost instantly, hoisting her hammer above her head, and slamming it down with all her might. The giant spider's head was pulped by the impact.

Whirling around, she inhaled deeply and let out a roar, "WHO ELSE WANTS SOME!?"

The chirping of birds and humming of insects was her only answer. Sighing bitterly, she swung her hammer back onto her back and began setting up camp for the night.

Several hours, a bowl of roasted spider leg soup, and a trip to the bushes later, Shanna sat staring at her campfire. The dancing flames were hypnotic in a way; always moving, never stopping, no pattern, and never the same. Under the influence of the flames, her mind quickly wandered from the present. Almost reflexively, she pondered the events that had led her to her current quest.

--

Shanna had always been something of an inquisitive child. She had wanted to know more about her people; where they came from, why they left, what they were doing now. She had spent the majority of her childhood in the Vault of Lights in the Exodar, reading and learning about her peoples' legacy. She had not been pleased by what she had seen. Everywhere her people went, they were attacked, the victims of an endless series of genocide after genocide. She came to hate the monsters that had decimated her people. Especially the orcs. Soon, just the thought of them made her blood boil. Their vile green skin, barbaric tusks, eyes glowing with demonic fire, and their berzerk lust for blood and battle convinced her that the only good orc was a dead orc.

Years later, a natural affinity for the Light and its blessings manifested in her. Priests approached her with offers of apprenticeship, but she turned them down. She knew her place was not in the medical corps. Her place was on the frontlines, striking down the enemies of her people; giving the Horde, giving the orcs, a taste of their own foul medicine. With that single, driving motive, she sought out a Paladin trainer and eagerly apprenticed under him.

For almost a decade, she learned the ways of the Paladin. She learned how to call upon the Holy Light, to defer to rightful authority, to act with honor and chivalry at all times, and most importantly, to defend the principles of the Light with her life if necessary. Her induction into the Draenic order of Paladins had been the happiest day of her life.

Soon however, things had gone wrong.

After returning from a mission to slay the marauding bear, Deathclaw, she had been called to the office of her former trainer.

"Greetings, Shanna," he had said.

"Greetings to you as well, sir."

"Shanna, do you know why I have called you here?"

"I do not, sir."

"Well, there seems to be an… issue with your conduct."

"An issue, sir?" she had asked.

"Yes," he had responded, "You see, word has it that you have been rather… overzealous in your missions recently."

"I don't know what you mean, sir."

"Perhaps if I read you the report filed about a mission you completed a few days ago. Ahem: Paladin was instructed to capture a Horde messenger and deliver the tactical information he was carrying to the Prophet Velen. Paladin instead assaulted the messenger with deadly force, severely beating him until stopped by members of her party. At this point, the Paladin became aggressive toward her own party and had to be restrained for the remainder of the mission."

"The only problem I see there, sir, is that their treasonous and blasphemous acts have gone unpunished."

Her trainer had sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, "And that, Shanna, is precisely the problem. I admire your ardent commitment to the betterment of the Draenei people, but fanaticism is never the right answer."

"Sir, with all due respect, I don't feel that beating a creature that is responsible for the bloody decimation of our race is fanaticism," she had responded coldly.

Her trainer had simply shaken his head, "That kind of willingness to participate in acts of brutal violence is fanaticism."

"But sir, I-,"

"Under any circumstances. No exceptions. Violence should be a Paladin's last resort, not their first tactic. Do you understand?"

Shanna had paused and composed herself, "Sir, I was raised to believe that a Paladin's mission, nay, her purpose, was to uphold the tenants of the Holy Light by dispatching those who oppose it."

Her trainer had merely smiled sadly, "You forget, Shanna; the most important teaching of the Light is forgiveness."

So she had been given an involuntary leave of absence; told to report to the mainland in with the mission of meditating on the peace of the Light. Naturally, she had decided that this was unacceptable. Her superior had obviously lost his perspective of what truly mattered if he could consider her righteous act an act of fanaticism. Therefore, the first thing she had done on the mainland was ask around for any tasks that needed performing. Soon a Night Elf had approached her about a demon infestation in Felfire Hill that needed cleansing. Eager to smite those foul affronts to the Light from the face of Azeroth, she had set out immediately across Ashenvale. The rest, as they say, was history.

--

A light tingling on the tip of her nose jerked her out of her stupor. Sitting bolt upright, she immediately squinted and shielded her eyes from the bright sunlight.

"Must have dozed off," she muttered, standing up to work the kinks out of her back.

With brisk, military efficiency, she cleaned up her campsite, donned her armor, shouldered her war hammer, and set off towards Felfire Hill. Trudging along the road, she walked for what seemed like hours, passing what seemed like the same trees over and over again. Occasionally, a fellow traveler would pass her, walking in the opposite direction. Cordial greetings were exchanged and the two would go their separate ways. After almost a half-day's travel, she was within a stone's throw of the bridge that marked the border to Felfire Hill. She was prepared to continue, when a sudden rustle in the bushes across the bridge gave her pause. She watched the shrubs warily as they rustled again, then once more. Finally, two hands reached out and parted the branches. Two green hands. Out from the undergrowth and towards the bridge, strode a fully-grown male orc. Shanna's hand flew to the war hammer at her back and she drew in breath to call out a challenge. That orc would not live to see tomorrow.

--

Kul'dor was having a bad day. He'd woken up to a very large, very hungry bear rummaging through his supply pack; kept killing wolves only to find that they somehow didn't have any livers to harvest for his new alchemy recipe; and had gotten a really, really nasty paper cut while opening one of his quest scrolls to double-check a location. So, when a heavily armored and very pissed-off looking draenei woman appeared out of nowhere and started yelling at him in some gibberish language, Kul'dor wanted nothing more than to cleave her open with his axe and call upon the spirits of fire to burn her remains to ashes. Then stomp all over the ashes.

But, as his trainer had said, "Kul'dor, the way of the Shaman is the way of patience, wisdom, and virtue. You should never be afraid to fight, but you should also never be afraid to make peace."

So, albeit reluctantly, he raised his hands in the universal gesture of 'I mean you no harm', and called out in Common to the draenei woman, "I apologize if my sudden appearance startled you. I mean neither you nor the Alliance any harm. My mission here was one of cleansing: destroying the demons whose presence is angering the elements. There is no need for violence; we can both leave here in peace."

The draenei woman looked shocked, obviously not expecting him to be able to speak Common. Typical Alliance. They thought Common was some sort of secret language only they could know. Pah! It was called Common for Thrall's sake! Common, as in 'everybody and their mother speaks this language'. To her credit though, the draenei woman recovered remarkably quickly, shifting from a surprised stare to a death glare in seconds.

"Peace!?" she cried out in Common, "You, you filthy verdant barbarian dare to speak to me about peace?! Where was the peace when your kind brokered deals with demons? Where was the peace when your bloodthirsty rampages claimed the lives of countless innocents? Where was the peace when you slaughtered everything that moved and drank the blood of the dead and dying? You will get no peace from me until every one of your filthy kind are dead and left to rot in the sun!"

Okay, diplomacy time was over.

With a battle roar, Kul'dor unsheathed his battle-axe and donned his shield, taking up a defensive stance. The female draenei was already charging him, the head of her massive, two handed war-hammer cutting a shallow trench in the ground. Reaching melee range, she swung the hammer up in a powerful arc. Kul'dor barely managed to raise his shield into position before the crippling blow hit home. The blow was so strong that he was knocked backward, shield and all. Hitting the ground and rolling to his feet, he looked up to see the draenei woman charging him again. Calling upon the spirits of the earth, he turned the ground beneath her feet to entrapping mud, causing her to fall flat on her face. Eagerly seizing the opportunity, Kul'dor called upon the spirits of the sky. Almost instantly, electrical energy crackled at his fingertips, and he sent a white-hot bolt of lightning jetting toward the female draenei.

The bolt shot forward with deadly accuracy, bathing the woman and the area around her in vicious electrical mayhem. Or at least, it seemed like it did. Instead of jerking and convulsing, the draenei woman stood up. Only then did Kul'dor see the glowing bubble of holy energy surrounding her.

"Of course, she's a Paladin," he muttered, "it just wouldn't be unfair enough if she wasn't."

As her holy shield dissipated, the Paladin hoisted her war-hammer high and a bright light from the heavens seemed to shine down upon her and fill her with power.

'Well,' thought Kul'dor, 'two can play at that game.'

With a mighty roar, Kul'dor called upon the powers of all the elements. In response to his call, totems erupted from the earth, each granting him the powers of its element. The warriors charged. Swinging her hammer in a downward arc, the Paladin blasted a crater in the ground that Kul'dor had been standing on only moments before. Now, however, he was in mid leap, axe swinging downward to cleave and sunder. The woman leaped to the side, causing him to cleave nothing but dirt. Leaping at him again, she whirled around, building up momentum for an earth-shattering swing of her hammer, aimed directly at his skull.

Knowing better than to try and block such an attack, Kul'dor ducked low under the strike, then swung his axe low and fast, aiming for her shins. Reacting quicker than he had expected, the draenei woman leapt over his axe. However, she did not avoid his shield, which followed the axe and bashed her across the body, sending her sprawling across the ground. In a flash, Kul'dor was swinging his axe downward at her prone form, but the Paladin quickly rolled out of the way onto her back. Then, without even getting up, she swung her hammer sideways and struck a glancing blow into his ribcage. Kul'dor went down gasping, the blow throbbing with holy fire.

Rolling over, the draenei woman again swung her hammer in an arc towards his sternum; but Kul'dor raised his shield and blocked the strike, rolling over to his left to put some distance between himself and the Paladin. Undeterred, the woman simply rolled over again and used the momentum to swing her hammer at his chest once more. Jerking his shield up, Kul'dor managed to block the second blow and roll away again, but the Paladin woman just kept coming! The two rolled almost twenty yards that way before Kul'dor managed to flip himself up in a backward somersault and stomp his foot down where the draenei woman's head had been only seconds earlier.

Quickly rolling to her feet, the draenei Paladin shifted her grip to much higher on her war-hammer and began striking at Kul'dor with the spiked hilt end. Without the weight of the head to swing, the hilt-end was an almost blindingly fast spear that took all of Kul'dor's concentration to prevent from gutting him. On the defensive now, he realized he was being backed up against a tree. Seeing this as a perfect opportunity, he leaped up, braced both legs against the trunk, and lunged forward, shield up, like a battering ram. The draenei woman wasn't quite fast enough to avoid him, and was checked on the shoulder, sending her spinning. Kul'dor hit the ground and rolled to his feet, spinning to face the female Paladin. Seeing her temporarily incapacitated, he seized the opportunity to call forth a totem of fire.

Looking back to the Paladin, he saw nothing but a hammer headed directly for his face. The blow sent him reeling; holy power entered his mind and locked down him limbs. He was completely helpless. Looking up blearily, he saw the draenei woman smirk with savage glee and raise her hammer over her head in preparation to finish him off. Only to be hit in the back with a wave of fire that sprang from his totem. The female Paladin collapsed before him. His mind now back in working order, he summoned the spirits of fire one last time, and his battle-axe ignited in an aura of flickering flames. Leaning close to the draenei woman, he placed his axe's blade at her throat and looked into her eyes, preparing to end it all.

Preparing to end it all.

To end… it all.

To… end it all….

…

Damn it.

Sighing angrily he withdrew his axe and stood up.

"I told you I meant you no harm, and now I'm proving it. I'm leaving now, and personally I hope we never see each other again."

The draenei woman looked at him with a mixture of outrage and confusion. Suddenly, her gaze turned to pure terror.

Kul'dor sighed, "Now what is it?" he asked.

Then he felt it: the prickle of hot breath on his scalp. His entire body went rigid. Slowly, ever so slowly, he craned his neck up as far as he could. Looking down at him was the most massive Felguard he had ever seen. That was when everything went black.

--

Author's Note: Dun Dun Duuun!!