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Vereesa Windrunner, Ranger-General of the Silver Covenant

Veressa Windrunner walked slowly across the dilapidated courtyard, there was no rush. She inhaled the stale air, as ancient as the ruins surrounding them, with almost pleasure. This whole place reeked of death, and they just brought more.

“Ranger-General” A female ranger jogged to welcome her. She looked tired. “These are them, the ones in the front row”

“Thank you” Vereesa responded without gratitude as she closed the distance between her and the captives.  There were eight of them; as the five in the back looked surprised, the three on the front were defiant, fully knowing why they had been captured.

“You killed five of my own; cowardly so. Did you think you would get away with it, blood elf?” She spoke; her voice smooth yet bitter like poisoned wine, to the blond haired one in the front. His insignia showed his rank. Captain. Vereesa stared at the elf’s sick eyes, her own now cold as ice. 

“I’m sure these are just isolated events, Vereesa; Lor’themar wouldn’t dare to strike at your people in here” Jaina had said confident, and she might have been right. Lor’themar wouldn’t dare, but some of his captains did.

Vereesa smirked cruelly, making the blood elf’s confidence plummet. “Don’t you have anything to say?”

“Take us to your master, lap-dog” Vereesa’s eyes hardened a slight more, but she kept her composure. Thalassian, as a language, was gender neutral; but she knew the offense was meant with specific nuance. Jaina had been kind to mistranslate the nickname the Sunreavers had given her to the troops, but it was something it couldn’t be hidden for those who spoke thalassian.

“Even after everything you and your kind have done to her, she is still too kind” She could barely contain the urge to strike him, to cut him, to kill him with her own hands. “No, she will not get wind of this exchange” She turned her head around to her people. They all looked tired, but she could see the conviction in their eyes. “No she won’t” She faced him again, repressed rage making her bare her teeth. “No one will”

“Orders, my Ranger-general?” The elf that received her spoke again.

“Execute them. All of them” Vereesa said without a shadow of a doubt. She could feel the hate fuming from the blood elven captain, and the fear in the rest. She turned to walk away, only to see the hesitation on some of her own.

“We will retaliate two-fold for every one of our own that is struck down by them. We are not to be trifled with” She sanctioned, her voice booming with resolution. “Now follow trough”

“Please” The blood elf next the captain spoke, signaling the ones behind her “Have mercy on them, they knew nothing”

Mercy? Vereesa wanted to lunge towards her and rip her throat with her own hands, to feel her wicked life fade away until her corpse stared back empty. Even that would be more than what Rhonin had. “Mercy, you ask for mercy?” Vereesa spoke without turning back to the pleading blood elf.

 “My mercy is that I don’t hunt down two more of your own”

As her rangers burned the bodies to deny the Shan’ze of more fodder, Vereesa Windrunner, last of her name, inhaled the air surrounding her; stale as always, now blended with the smell of burnt flesh.

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