Bess Blackhoof

The War of the Thorns

“You can kill us... but you cannot kill hope.”

“Can't I?” Sylvanas turned back to the other leaders of the invasion force. “Burn it... Burn it!”

Bess immediately knew something was wrong. Up to this point, they had been going out of their way to not harm innocents - Saurfang's orders - but now the Dark Lady was ordering them to destroy the very city they were trying to capture. Had she gone mad? “Warchief...?”

The Forsaken loaded the catapults and lit the firebrands. Bess' eyes darted from Sylvanas to the High Warlord, who was definitely displeased but dared not speak against his Warchief while she was in a mood. Bess growled and ran toward the shore as the first catapult launched, leaping into the air and shifting into a great owl while the Dark Lady's gaze was elsewhere. She crossed the waters between Darkshore and Teldrassil as fast as her wings would carry her, staying low to the surface to avoid the ash and embers raining down from the catapults' ammunition. She soared up the side of the tree and into Darnassus, many of the Elves gazing at her in fear and horror. Was she part of an assassination force seeking to add further suffering to the injuries inflicted on their home?

“Cenarion Circle... Here to help,” Bess croaked out in broken Darnassian, the smoke already beginning to burn her eyes and throat. She landed just long enough for an Elf woman to scramble onto her broad back. Bess snatched a child in each of her talons and took off across the city as the Elf directed her to the evacuation point. She gently but quickly set the children down as the woman slid from between her wings.

“What is your name, druid?” the woman asked in wonder as the children cowered at her side.

“Best you don't know.” Bess took off once again into the city, returning each time with two or three more civilians, but the smoke and effort spent were taking their toll. She knew she could not save everyone, and that thought would haunt her for a very long time. As she darted from treehouse to treehouse she spotted yet another group of children trapped by flames and she zipped through the window, singing her feathers but she ignored the pain. “Get on and hold tight!” Three Elves, a Worgen, and a Draenei clamored on to wherever they could get a grip as Bess shot back out the window, the hot wind whipping their faces, hair, and feathers. The evacuation portal was about to close, and Bess roared as she squinted and put on a last burst of speed to make it through.

Five children and one very singed Tauren tumbled into the Stormwind harbor. The guards immediately raised their weapons, but many Elves stood in front of her blocking their aim. “She saved us!” “She was helping evacate!” “Don't kill her!” “She's with the Circle!” Bess opened her eyes at the numerous voices coming from the small crowd and attempted to right herself with a groan. No serious damage, but a few wounds that would take a while to heal and would leave scars. Bess sat on the docks as the guards turned away, a particularly old Elf making her way toward the druid. “Are you hurt?”

“I will manage,” Bess replied while catching her breath. “I should leave. Windrunner searches for me.”

“Let me do this.” The Elf laid her hands on Bess' burns and chanted a soft prayer of healing from Elune, and Bess could already feel the pain subsiding. “Repayment for your help. You will always have friends here.”

Bess nodded her thanks. “But I cannot return.” The druid got to her feet, and with a sad smile to the 29 civilians she managed to rescue, she shifted back into her owl form and left the Human city.