The adventures of Elythriande and Arinnaya

[Arinnaya]

This thread which I have started now, is intended to contain many different stories, featuring two of my characters. Though they were somewhat based upon in-game characters, their stories are fully a product of imagination. Many of them are cristallinized only partially, so the whole epic storyline of the two can not be presented here this time, only small shards.

If anyone wishes to 'meet' Arinnaya (the Human Priestess), and Elythriande (the Blood Elven Warrior), Just enter the Roleplay forum. You can even participate in their stories. If you wish to know them better, I await others with outstretched hands to join up!!

[Arinnaya]

The Priestess and the Shaman
****************************

Sunset over the Barrens. Some say, the most beautiful in Azeroth. As the immense,
glowing yellow disc is getting closer to touch the horizont, it shed its light in a last,
faint effort, to dispel the darkness of shadows, growing longer with every minute...

Some birds were flying by. Unknown to the kingdom of Azeroth, their pink feathers, and long legs representing
that they belong to a race of Kalimdorian flamingos. If one had made a glance downwards,
it could have seen a small spot of a creature making a hasty walk through the endless wasteland.

So unusual: a young girl, covered in some long, levander robe, with a staff on her back, running
along the land as if chased, while all the creatures native to this steppe, were already on their resting spots.

The girl was apparently talking to herself, in a voice barely loud enough to be heard by anyone:
"I never thought... that the Barrens is so large. Four days since leaving Theramore, and still no sign of the road to Ashenvale."

She stopped for a moment, fully exhausted, gasping for breath... Her voice became louder, confident that no one in the wilderness can hear it:
"I...I still must press on. There is no telling what avaits here. Travellers tell horrid stories of the Orcs, and their minions.
At least Rachet was safe."

She started on, to continue the travels, yet her little legs surrendered to the exhaustment. After taking two or three long steps,
the girl thumbled to the grassy ground. When looking up, the sun was about to hide itself fully beyond the distant silhouette of the Stonetalon Mountains.

Having removed her backpack, she opened it, in hope of finding the ingredients for a poor supper. But without any luck.
" I should have thought about buying food by the goblin merchants."- She said to herself. After toying a bit with its contents, the girl closed the leather sack,
straightened up from the dry grass, and continued her march, through the seemingly endless barren waste.

As the more experienced travellers all know, full darkness comes over the savannah only as matter of moments after sunset.
But the poor girl have not even thought about it. A few moments later, she found herself wandering about aimlessly, thumbling over treetrunks,
falling to the smallest dips in the ground, lost to the darkness of the Barrens.

After a couple of unsuccessful trials to find the path again, she noticed a tiny bright spot far away. collecting all her courage, she moved towards the
light. "Nothing can be worse than being lost here. The Light will protect me from all troubles" - that sounded as if she preached to herself,
despite being a lightbringer of faith herself.

Getting closer to the small globe of light, it turned out to be a campfire. At first sight, it appeared to be abandoned.
It was too late when the girl noticed the shape of a powerfully large, stocky creature sitting beside the flames, with his back turned towards the newcomer.
The woman stopped as when being bitten by a snake, and took a step backwards silently, prepared to run for her life.

The great creature opened his mouth, without turning around, or moving a bit:
" You need not be afraid, Priestess! The Spirit of the Fire tell me you are as pure in spirit as the purest of the flames!"

The priestess stood as if turned to stone, but after minutes passed, and the creature was still not moving, she collected all her courage again,
and stepped into the small circle of orange light. Curiousity was taking her over.

Beside the cozy campfire, there sat an old, respectful orc, with grey beards, dressed in some sort of battered armour, that has seen better days..
Though a relyable Alliance warrior would certainly have had his sword prepared to strike, the Priestess was not that kind. Being born in Gilneas, her family did
not have to suffer the attrision of the Second War, nor has she encountered any living orcs in the wilderness before.

The hands of the Orc were clutched together in a way, and his sight still lost in some endless distance, meanwhile he spoke again. His voice was deep, but still familiar:
"The spirits are honoured by your presence, and so will be me, dear Priestess!! Arinnaya, please take a place here!!"

"How do you know my name? Who are you?" - said the Priestess. In her words astonishment mixed with some indignity.

"There are many things that I know, priestess. The Spirits of Nature are my friends, they tell me all."

As Arinnaya took her place facing the old orc, he continued his speech: "Allow me to introduce myself! I am Nrok'thar,
last Shaman of the Stormreaver clan. My son was once the greatest champion of the Horde."

" Seems you know all of me, along with my name, but I would really like to hear an orc's story!" - spoke the Priestess, burned by unquenchable curiousity towards knowledge, as always.
She just lay aside by the flickering flames, and listened to his tale...


"I was born in a distant world. Many call it Draenor today, for me it was just Home. Pleasant sight of lush green hills under the blue skies.
That is how I remember the ancestral lands of my tribe. We were nomads, living from hunting across the endless steppe. My parents told me, when I was born,
a tiny green cying baby, the elderly Shaman of the village visited us. He looked upon me, and told my father: "I see the potetial in your son. The time is short, what is left for me. I have seen the profecy of my successor being born in my dreams yesterday night.
If the Elements themselves decide it so, they will give him the sign." Well, that is how my parents told me."

Arinnaya took a turn as she placed herself in a more comfortable position, with her eye still clinging to the tired and old green face. After a little pause Nrok'Thar continued the story:

"Nothing happened until I reached the age of ten. As a young adult of the tribe, I accompanied my Father on huntings, and I even learned how to fish in the sea. I did not told you, perhaps, but we lived not far, about 1-2 days walk from the sea.
Later it became known as the 'Devouring Sea' but I hate to call it like that.

So, once, on a long hunting journey, lasting several days, it happened: I was separated from the last of the party, and after passing a hill, I stumbled upon a mighty creature. Of course, I was terrified to hell, so my loud scream echoed for miles along the barren land.
My tribesmen immediately rushed back to help me. Despite the large beast, unlike any animal, still towered over me, without giving out any sign, they did not see anything. They just stood confused, while I still pointed at the creature with my finger. "There is nothing here. Maybe you saw a ghost?"
Then the creature spoke, in a barely understandable voice: " Only you can hear me! Join us, as your ancestors did!" Without even telling these words to him, my Father knew immediately, that time has come. They lead me to the old Shaman's hut, somewhere in the wilderness, and left me to be his companion,
leaving my family behind forever. It may sound cruel, that is how I felt, but that is how the ancient law of Shamans dictate."

An uncomfortable feeling gripped Arinnaya, as she learnt about orkish traditions. They were always hard, but also noble. At least, as a Priest, no one had to reject their own family. Nevertheless, without a word, she let the Shaman continue:


"It was later, when I has already been an apprentice of Nrok'Thul since years, when Nehr'Zul started the grand campaign of unifying all Orkish tribes.
The clan of Shadowmoon was a traditional ally of the Stormreaver clan, so we fought the same side, as Nehr'Zul did, against other powerful rivals, like the Thunderlords. Our state was never peaceful with them before: they claimed our hunting reviers as their own.
We held a grand celebration, as all the tribes were finally conquered, and united. Nehr'Zul was a hero of the Orkish cause. He was so powerful and famous, that becoming his chosen one was a vision for all young Shaman trainees. Many vyed for his patronage.
Still, my master suggested me not to apply for it: "The true strength of a Shaman does not lie in war or victory. A fight never makes you grand. Besides, he is no longer a friend of spirits. His new'powers' frighten them away".
I still have not said, but he was proud of 'discovering a new way to power' The word 'power made me worry. Still, there were many, who desired power all above the wise orcs' advices. Among them, was my compatriot, Gul'dan.
He stemmed from the neighbouring village. He was a good shaman, yet grew many times tired of praying to the spirits. "I hope there will be time, where the spirits would serve us, instead of me serving them". He was not that kind orc,
not even as Shaman. The only thing he desired was the power."

Arinnaya interrupted the tale with some half-loud comment: "I doubt he could become great with such attitude"

"He not only became great, but the leader of Orcs. However, as a shaman... it could have never passed: He sold his soul to the demons, and they granted his 'new powers'.

The expression of Nrok'Thar became grim, filled with spite and hatred with the passing sentence.

"After further years of his tutelage under Nehr'Zul, he returned to our tribe. All the shamans gathered together to welcome him. However, when in the circle of shamans, young and old together, he made some overconfident claims about the 'true power'
Of course, no one wanted to believe him. Some even laughed at him. But in the moment, he raised his hands, and terrible hellfire burned the fellow into ashes. This made us both terrified and enraged. some charged at him, to stop his madness. and then.... Then he summoned a horrifying beast,
with burning body, just before him, for protection. The creature was nothing like I have seen before. It resembled a huge fire elemental, but distantly. He could crush an aduld orc with a single step, and made our meeting to a bloody slaughter. I fled, like others, back to the safety of the solitude of wastelands.

<end of first part. continues on page 2>

[Arinnaya]

<The Priestess and the Shaman. Arinnaya's story, 2nd part>

We did what we could, to warn others from Gul'dan's treachery, but all we succeeded was making him an advertisment. Hundreds of Orcs, hungring for power, rushed to his newly-founded 'Magics-school'. As they learned how to wield such a despicable power, warlocks gradually took all the role of Shamans.
No one ever wanted to become a Shaman, after they found an easy path to might. However, they hand no idea, what our race had to pay for this...alliance.

As the Horde united, there were no more wars... thus many warrior was left without job. Finding an opportunity to show their strength, Nehr'Zul declared war upon the Draenei, and organised a campaign. Though the Draenei were never our friends - sometimes they hunted us like animals, for stealing their cattle -
yet the upcoming cruelty was unexpected... heartbreaking voice of women crying for mercy, and the sight of mutilated children - something my tribesmen never comitted before - it was a crime against honour, and the traditional ways. With no shamans left to watch them over, the
bloodlust fueled by warlocks took them completely over. The spirits abandoned me, and my people, as the reckless warlock magics turned the lush fields into desert, and the sky red.

Though I served my tribe still, but they hardly heeded my advices and warnings. it was Gul'dan, who took rule, with his numerous advisors, and countless followers. Even the chieftains held their council under his roof."

He held a pause, while Arinnaya interrupted him:
"I never thought... that Shamans are so noble, fighting against the reckless warlocks. If only priests would..."
But she was interrupted, as the orc's response upon it was instant:

"Thank you, Priestess. Still, there are many who choose this path only for the power. They better should abandon it, or the results will be a wretched monster, like Gul'Dan.
Now,where had I abandoned my story?? Oh, I know!" - and he continued the legend-telling.

"As I heard about Gul'dan opening the portal to a new 'unspoilt' world, I was among the first to cross. Finally, a world, where the elements and spirits would become one with the shaman again!
I left my troop, to commune with the spirits of this new, unknown world of Azeroth. Initially, they refused to answer my call, but after the third day, they came willingly. All they told me was a dire warning: for the crimes of my people,
for the foul acts, we comitted on our ancestral lands, and the uneasy fact of being ruled, and gradually corrupted by the demons. In no time, we would become demons ourselves, if we coninued our path.
I was abhorred by these facts, and decided to live like hermit, in the mountains of Redridge.

Years passed, as the first was raged on. I was sometimes visited by bypassing armies of both orcs, and humans, yet I hid myself from both. News came only laggingly to me. It was an early spring, when some orkish raiding party passed my cave by.
They came from afar, the mysterious Blackrock Mountain. They greeted me, and told, that Gul'Dan lies on his mortal bed, and warchief Doomhammer has taken the leadership of the Horde, having no trust for the secretive warlocks. Though Orgrim stemmed from the ancient enemy of my tribe - the Thunderlords,
I grew tired of that endless solitude. Despite being a deserteur, thus nominated for execution, I decided to follow them, back to the dark volcano of the Burning Steppe. The warchief greeted me uncommonly warm, and asked from my past. As I told him, that I am a shaman, he immediately wished, that I should participate in his
army, as "He lacked the wise, experienced warriors". I was immediatley offered a state of Grunt, in a smaller, irregular batallion. That is where I met my wife, Ghasha. She was so... proud and wild by nature... She immediatley took my heart. That is how I became a member of the Blackrock Clan. We married by the ancient tradition, under
the open sky. Only a shaman's blessing was missing. No one should bless his own self. Oh, If I could, perhaps she would still be alive!!

The sad memories made the old orc's expression grim, and hopeless. Arinnaya was stuck by empathy.
Nrok'Thar sighed long and painful, and added:

"I participated in the Shoring of Hillsbrad, though only briefly. Later, our troop marched through Alterac - our newfound ally - and attempted to raid Stratholme. Fortunately, Ghasha did not come with us. She stayed home, at Blackrock, with our child - he ws only a year old, or two.
We ran straightly into a trap. The Paladin warriors were too many - we had to retreat... But the men from Alterac: there must have been a spy among them! For we sought to hide in an abandoned gold mine, and the horsemen knew where we were hiding. Some of us attepted a breakout, and we heard them scream, s they fell.
I was the commander of the group, so I had to uphold our honour: I was prepared to die on the battlefield, but was not given a chance. Just as I took a step to the blinding daylight, a straight blow on my head from behind - and I lost my consciousness."

"What followed, was worse than being struck by lightning. I became a prisoner of war, chained to the wall, and tortured day-and-night. The foolish humans - they shouted at me some words, I did not understand at all, and started to burn my skin with burning iron bars. For weeks - it lasted as an eternity. I prayed to the Spirits to let me die.
And a night: I had a dream - the future was revealed before me - I was walking a barren land, free as if I had never been captured. Though the jailors restricted my portions, so I was condemned to a slow and painful death of starvation, I knew, the hour of freedom shall come!
Soon, new prisoners arrived, and the Humans started to torture them, forgetting about me. They were questioned, like I was, by a human inquisitor, by human language - something we did never understand a word of...
The news of Gul'dan's downfall gave me a bittersweet feeling of vengeance - he was torn to shreds by the very demons he served so loyally - too bad,news about the annihilating defeat of Doomhammer's forces by a much smaller human army came the same time to me. We were left as slaves, in custody. Still, I knew it will not last forever!
The young warchief Thrall came to liberate us personally, after decades of slavery. The Earth thrembled under the prison, as his warriors broke in. I knew immediately, that freedom came at last! Thrall was the most powerful shaman of the world, despite such a young age. Raised up by humans, he always had a terrible accent. I still remember him greeting us, prisoners!"

"Sorry to break your tale"- The Priestess spoke - "But how can you speak my language perfectly if you said, you never understood a word?"

This comment made Nrok'Thar laugh heartily: "Oh, this is such a simple trick!" He stretched his hands into the bag, that was lay beside him, pulling out an empty vial:
"I brew this Sapta, so I could better communicate with the Spirits. As a side-effect, I can understand all languages in the world, and see all your thoughts, but just for this night. I learnt the art of
herbs, and brewing potions with great perfection, while I lived as a hermit. But it was my old master, who started teaching me in these arts."

"So you... can make powerful potions from just the grass of this wasteland?" - Told Arinnaya, as she could not see the difference between herb and herb.
But the answer of Nrok'Thul was kind and friendly: If you look more careful around, you could see that you just sit on a bunch of flowers called Peacebloom!"
Arinnaya jumped up, as if stung by scorpion, but quickly went back on her knees, after localizing some while flowers she was sitting on.

"If you were an Orc, I would gladly give you some lessons about the wilderness. But I have others to attend to, as well - my apprentices. Drek'Thar collected us - only a handful of us remained -
and insisted that we should teach the new boys no matter how old we are. The old law prohibited that one shaman had more than one apprentice at one time, but simply, there were not enough of us left
in the world - so I ended up with five, mischievous young boys. I only take one of them into the wilderness one time, so they can learn better.

"But... I do not see any of others around! I wonder if this is just another trick of you!" - spoke Arinnaya hesitantly.

Nrok'Thar replied: No, your observations are right: This time, I only came to the wilds to hunt for boar. I still have some poor remnants of the steak, if you desire" -
he added swiftly, as he saw the girl's eyes glimmer at these words. So Nrok'Thar opened his bag, and pulled out a still considerable piece of fried pork chops. Arinnaya took it
from his hand without a word, and started to pull small pieces of meat off the cold meat eagerly.

"Sorry for me: it is cold already, and I cannot even offer you a fork. So it will be a bit like the dinner of the beasts."

the Priestess, with her mouth still laden with bits, replied: You should know: there are terrible stories about your people,
told everyday at Taverns by adventurers: many state that Orcs are cannibals, and eat the raw flesh of their victims!"

"It is just the humans, that confuse every other race! - added Nrok'Thar with indignation - Tt is the TROLLS that are cannibals - or at least, used to it. But I can promise you,
should your fate ever bring you to the Sen'Jin village in Durothar, the trolls there do not eat others anymore! Thrall forbade!


"This meat is delicious!" - said Arinnaya - You must be a skilled cook, to make something so good, even as cold!"

"It is simple, and a necessity to those, who live alone, or have to raise a child alone!"

"You have not even told me about your son! Though you mentioned he was a great champion!"

"He was my only prodigy. I lived a decade in the darkness of the internment camps' prisons without learning the truth. A few weeks after our liberation,
an old woman appeared before me: I had never seen her before. But he stated firmly, that the child she lead with her hands was my son. She said, Ghasha was captured
when the humans assaulted Blackrock Spire. they were pulled on chains towards north, but unfortunately, my wife did not survive the cruel torments. Her last, dieing wish was that
someone should take her infant from her hands, and bring it to...Nrok'Thar, if he still lives."

"I took my son with me to Kalimdor. As Thrall had forsaw, we not only gained a new home, but we brought our own curse with us: the Burning Legion.
The old blademaster, Grom Hellscreem could not resist their powers: strange, since as long as I knew him, he was always noble despite the Blood Curse.
I learnt it only from Thrall, that the old chieftains, while enjoying the hospitality of Gul'dan's house, they made a blood pact with a dreaded demon captain.
And he came to demand the service of the Orcs once again: but Grom defeated him, empowered with the last vestiges of his free will. Yet he fell, and we had to face the
most powerful demonlords at Hyjal, without him.

"So you fough at Hyjal??" - the priestess was astonished - "I heard about the epic battle, where al humans, elves, and orcs teamed up in a desperate effort to stop the demons, once, and for all!

"Me, and my son held the base, just as the leader of the Night-Women, named Furion commanded. The demons came, but we stopped them!!! Lured them into the trap, and they exploded!! My son was a hero, and was raised to high ranks by Thrall.
Sadly, he was killed a year later by human infiltrators from Thearamore, while he was sleeping in his hut!! How dishonourable to kill a weaponless man while asleep, an Orc would NEVER do something alike!
Nrok'Thar became enraged, raising his hands as he shook his fists. "All was left behind him was my granddaughter. She is in safety, in Orgrimmar, and I will NEVER allow her being harmed by any human!

"Clearly, humans have caused much strife in your life! How is that you still welcomed me, instead of drawing sword?"

"They have taken almost everything from me, I ever loved. Still, Thrall made me swear that I will not harm any human without him attacking first. After the Battle of the Sacred Mountain, we made an agreement with
Furion. He agreed us to settle down in southern Kalimdor. He was the last trustful leader. With him going missing, and the human sorceress Jaina ordered under the authority of that wretched Admiral, we lost all chances to live in peace, again...

"I agree. But the Elves in the north say that some orcs have 'Desecrated' their lands..."

" It is a lie. All we did was chopping down a few trees in the already corrupted forest of Ashenvale, to have materials to build our town. Those trees will regrow soon, as a Shaman, I can tell you, that we would never take anything from Nature
without the permission of their spirits. You should also follow this rule: as you finished eating, say a prayer, or at least a thanksgiving word to the spirit of that boar!

"Even as a Priest, we... never make such rituals, though... You are maybe right. It is so noble, that a animal has given its life to feed us."

"And the boar will now rest in peace. Should you continue your journey, remember only one: the spirits of the ancients, your ancients as well, are watching you, and protecting! As for tonight, let us sleep!"

Both laid down to the grassy floor, and tried to rest. Nrok'Thar gave himself easier ove to the sleep, than Arinnaya did: She watched the fire still for some moments, as if searching for the spirit she could never see, nor hear.
But finally, she was forced to surrender before the might of drowsiness.

As she woke up in the morning, the sun was already high. Theer was no one else around the still smoking heap of charcoal.

The Priestess collected her thoughts for some moments as her gaze searched through the landscape for clues, but in vain. There was no sign of Nrok'Thar, neither any living soul.

"What a strange dream!!" - she spoke as if it had been no realty - "I guess no one will ever believe me. Now, let us move!"

The silhouette of the Mor'shan Rampart showed up before her shortly after noon:

"Hold up, Elves of Ashenvale, I am here!"

[Alakon]

Excellent story Arinnaya! One thought though, in the first part Quote: "Nothing can be worse than being lost here. The Light will protect me from all troubles" - that sounded as if she preached to herself,despite being a lightbringer of faith herself. Unquote. I think peeps usually put 'the words sounded hollow even to her...' sorta thing. But I'm no critic :D Keep writing

[Inquisitor7]

Arinnaya, first let me thank you for posting on the fan fiction forum (FFF). We are always looking for more authors and posters in general to come here. I have read what you have written, and I think there are many things that need improvement. Please don’t take this the wrong way. All the advice I offer is just advice: you are free to take it or leave it. With that in mind I’d like to dive right into where I think you’ve gone wrong and where you’ve succeeded.

First of all, I think your story’s plot is solid, if a little cliche (the whole mysterious stranger who knows a lot about the protagonist). However, all fan fiction is inherenty unoriginal since it takes place in somene else’s fantasy world, and the fantasy genre itself is full of cliches. What’s holding you story back, though, is not the plot. The problems in this piece stem from the following problems: grammar, spelling, and stylistic. Nota bene: having stylistic problems does not mean your way of writing is terrible. All that means is that your style needs some tweaking.

The following examples are to demonstrate where you are going wrong grammatically.


the Priestess, with her mouth still laden with bits,

Here you negelcted to capitalize the first letter of the sentence.


Unknown to the kingdom of Azeroth, their pink feathers, and long legs representing
that they belong to a race of Kalimdorian flamingos.

Here you have a sentence fragment, if my mind is not loosing its edge. You do not have a true predicate. This is easily fixed: change “representing” to “represented.” Oh, it would probably be a good idea to avoid saying “the kingdom of Azeroth” because that country is now known as Stormwind, and the name “Azeroth” now just refers to the continent and also the world itself (people will know what you’re talking about, but some people are a little particular about minutia like that).


Beside the cozy campfire, there sat an old, respectful orc, with grey beards, dressed in some sort of battered armour, that has seen better days...

First of all, I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone with more than one beard (you wrote that he has “beards”), and “has seen better days” should read “had seen better days.”


Though a relyable Alliance warrior would certainly have had his sword prepared to strike, the Priestess was not that kind.

Ok, here you misspelled “reliable” and your final clause sounds weird. It’s almost like you’re saying that the protagonist lacks the kindness (or gentleness) to take out her sword. That makes no sense, of course, but without the extra phrase “of warrior,” the line “the Priestess was not that kind” is a little misleading.

The following two quotes have spelling mistakes contained therein.


Tt is the TROLLS that are cannibals

Being born in Gilneas, her family did
not have to suffer the attrision of the Second War, nor has she encountered any living orcs in the wilderness before.

Now there is one easy way to avoid mistakes like these: proofread. I recommend proofreading what you’ve written at least a couple times. I suspect you will be amazed at the things you find that you want to change (and not necessarily grammatical things!).

The stylistic problems are a little more subjective than grammtical ones, but I still think what I point out and analyze will demonstrate my point.


The woman stopped as when being bitten by a snake, and took a step backwards silently, prepared to run for her life.

Ok, there are a couple of things wrong here: 1) I cannot think of anyone who would stop in his tracks when getting bitten by a snake, 2) most people who got bitten would jump up or leap back in a shocked way, not “silently step backwards” as you put it. I suppose someone might back away cautiously after the first strike in order to not excite the snake, but that’s not the impression I got from your simile.


" Seems you know all of me, along with my name, but I would really like to hear an orc's story!" - spoke the Priestess, burned by unquenchable curiousity towards knowledge, as always.

First of all, I think you meant to write “Seems you know all about me”; secondly, it seems strange to me that someone who just met a complete stranger in the woods would be so enthusiasitc about hearing an orc’s story. But maybe that’s her personality.

My general advice on style is to think through what your sentences and diction literally mean, and try to make sure that it all makes sense.

I am sorry to say but there is one other problem that has just come to my mind as I am examining your story. This sort of difficulty is one that might not be a problem: it depends on how much you are changing WarCraft lore to fit your story (if you are changing it a lot, just say so).

So here are my lore concerns: 1) the Stormreaver Clan, if memory serves, was created by Gul’dan as his own clan, and so it never had any shaman, 2) I don’t know Draenor ever was green and fertile, 3) Draenor was the name of the Orcs’ homeworld, and its current name is “Outland,” 4) the Darkspear Trolls have been having a hard time giving up their cannibalism if memory serves, but with Thrall they are making progress (though most if not all Stranglethorn tribes are cannibalistic if memory serves), 5) Gilneas seems to have been a part of the Alliance since they seceeded from it when King Terenas refused to destroy the Orcs in the internment camps. Also, about Ner’zhul, let me quote Blizz’s site about what exactly he did:

Using the cunning shaman as his conduit, the demon spread battle lust and savagery throughout the orc clans. Before long, the spiritual race was transformed into a bloodthirsty people. Kil'jaeden then urged Ner'zhul and his people to take the last step: to give themselves over entirely to the pursuit of death and war. Yet the old shaman, sensing that his people would be enslaved to hatred forever, somehow resisted the demon's command.


So, these are the problems I found. Nevertheless, I thank you for posting and I hope you keep writing!