The Moon Rises Again

Esria Moonfall sighed as she looked at the scroll once more. She turned the parchment over in her hands as she sat on the edge of her bed. She had read it enough times, she could quote it word for word. But the main issue was clear to anyone. Another threat to Azeroth.

The Iron Horde.

It felt like not so long Esria had been fighting against Garrosh's Horde, the battle where she had nearly died. Her right hand opened and closed, the fingers tingling at the sensation. They still did not feel right to her anymore. But she looked back to the paper in her left hand and lay back upon the bed. The warrior stared up at the words, calling members of the Alliance to aid in the defence of their lands once more. The usual propaganda. But a real threat, none the less.

The Kaldorei had been in enough wars to knew what would come next. She bore the scars of many of them still, even if she did not look the part. Her forced retirement due to her near fatal injuries had left her behind on her practise, and out of armour for longer than she would have liked. But as she lay upon her bed in her simple night gown, she knew that war would once again become part of her life.

Her right arm tensed again as she looked down at it. For months, the limb had been useless to her, unable to move or even feel it. But now, she had the use of it once more. The ritual required much from her, both physically and mentally, but not to mention morally. But she had commitment enough acts that fell into a gray area, that once more was just another drop in the ocean. That's what she told herself anyway.

Now it would hopefully pay off however. She sat up and dropped the letter to the floor. Standing she looked around her small room towards her armoury door. Her fingers clenched as she pondered the prospect of wearing her armour once more, becoming the defender she had once been again. That was why she had undergone the blood ritual, to regain her body to her. So why did she feel a dark trepidation towards fighting again?

She shrugged it off, and headed towards her armoury, shrugging out of the soft dress along the way. Softness and tenderness would be left behind again it seemed, as her tingling fingers closed around the door handle. Esria Moonfall would rise again.


She stood before her mirror, clad in her heavy armour. Dark metal, inlaid with the appearance of embers and brimstone and lined across the shoulder and helm with dragon scales and horns. She looked intimidating and fierce, a testament to the the battles she had faced against the Twilight Hammer. The Iron Horde were known for their brutality and fear mongering. Perhaps it was time she repaid the favour?

She looked over her armour rack, lifting a pair of heavy axes from their stands. These would do nicely, curved and long for defence against what she understood from most orcish weapons, while also with a heavy blunted side, for dealing with any heavier armour the blade and tip could not pierce. She swung them through the air a few times to get a feel. Heavier than she remembered, her lack of practise was certainly showing. She had felt some extra skin around her mid section when she had been slipping into her armour too. Certainly the months without proper training had sadly taken their toll.

That would not dissuade her however. She hoisted the axes up and put them onto holsters across her back. She could do some training on the way to the Eastern Kingdoms and the Blasted lands. Hopefully, she would be in fighting shape before meeting with this Iron Horde.