For the immortal races, ten years might as well be the ti it takes to sneeze and wipe their nose.
Whether you’re talking about the insufferably smug elves or the catastrophically lazy dragons, they all treat ti like a fine winesothing to be savored while mortals crumble to dust around them.
Humans? We’re cursed with urgency.
Those ten brutal years devoured Jaina’s youth whole, and they sure as hell consud every drop of Vanessa VanCleef’s innocence too.
During this blood-soaked Chapter of history, Stormwind had beco a festering cesspit of corruption so rank it could make a plague rat vomit. The royal family had perfected the art of breaking promises faster than a goblin breaks wind, particularly their spectacular betrayal of refusing to pay the Stonemasons Brotherhood for rebuilding their precious capital after so dragon princess’s twisted machinations nearly obliterated the kingdom.
This catastrophic backstabbing triggered an avalanche of misery that buried Vanessa’s father Edwin VanCleef, the entire Stonemasons Brotherhood, and countless souls who’d bled and sweated for coins that would never co.
In her original fate, Vanessa would have rotted away her childhood in the nightmare depths of the Deadmines, surrounded by the suffocating darkness of betrayal. Her father and every broken soul around her would have been drowning in an ocean of rage and despair so deep that even ntioning Stormwind’s na would have been blasphemy. They wouldn’t have needed to poison her mind against the kingdom—the grinding misery would have carved hatred into her bones like acid on stone.
But Duke’s explosive entrance shattered that destiny into a thousand pieces.
Her father Edwin had rocketed from a dirt-poor stonemason leader to beco one of the two legendary champions who’d sent orcs screaming back to whatever hellhole spawned them in the western wilderness. While Duke’s fa blazed across the continent, Edwin’s glory burned just as bright within Stormwind’s borders.
"By the Light! You’re Edwin VanCleef’s daughter!"
"Your skills are absolutely devastating! Truly the blood of a hero runs in your veins!"
If she’d been cursed with being born male, she might have found herself crushed under her father’s towering reputation, suffocating in shadows while nobles expected her to inherit every responsibility.
But fortune had blessed her with being female, freeing her from such crushing expectations entirely.
The only pressure crushing down on her now was... her father Edwin’s increasingly desperate attempts to find so unfortunate man brave enough to marry his terrifyingly skilled daughter.
Status-wise, Edwin had catapulted himself from humble stonework to knight’s rank by riding Duke’s coattails, earning a direct promotion to viscount and claiming his place as a cornerstone of the Edmund family’s power structure.
Professionally, Edwin had been crowned Minister of Construction under the Minister of the Interior, wielding authority over virtually every brick, stone, and timber project throughout Stormwind’s domain.
By every asure, the VanCleef family had clawed their way into the ranks of the powerful.
And therein lay the poisonous problem.
The established nobles could grudgingly stomach so mysterious peasant boy ascending to their exalted circle through mastering arcane powers—after all, magical bloodlines represented wealth that gold couldn’t purchase. But these sa aristocrats would rather eat their own boots than watch so talentless dirt-farr stumble into nobility overnight through sheer luck.
Under normal circumstances, only knights who’d endured at least two generations of proving themselves worthy would earn grudging acceptance into the aristocratic snake pit.
Duke’s strategic rampage during the great retreat had sent many Stormwind nobles to early graves, but the surviving old blood families like Bolvar’s ancient Fordragon lineage, along with the fresh nobility Llane had elevated, still viewed VanCleef with the sa enthusiasm they’d reserve for a plague-carrying rat.
Naturally, the only souls willing to accept Vanessa dwelt within the Edmund family’s protective embrace.
Then ca that fateful competition five years past, when Vanessa unleashed a breathtaking display of dagger work—twelve consecutive strikes that sent knight captain Kasa crashing to the dirt in front of every noble who’d been foolish enough to favor the poor bastard...
Vanessa’s marriage prospects had been murdered more thoroughly than her opponents.
Having witnessed the earth-shaking Battle of the Dark Portal and stood among true legends, Vanessa’s standards had soared beyond mortal reach. Marriage held no appeal whatsoever: "Father, you’re still in your pri. If continuing the VanCleef bloodline obsesses you, find yourself another wife. Birth a brother or sister to carry on the family na. Stop wasting energy worrying about my romantic disasters."
Edwin finally understood that his precious daughter—who’d spent a decade roaming the world with Princess Calia, growing wild and dangerous in foreign lands—had transford from an obedient little angel into a force of nature that could level mountains.
When Edwin caught wind of Duke’s triumphant return and received so heavy-handed encouragent from a certain exiled queen who’d found sanctuary in Stormwind, he imdiately launched his daughter northward.
"VanCleef blood belongs to the Edmund family in life and serves the Edmund family in death. Master Duke has returned to face monuntal challenges and desperately needs loyal supporters. Since you once served as the master’s personal attendant and now carry Her Majesty Calia’s blessing, you must answer the call to serve." Edwin’s words dripped with righteous conviction, but his barely contained joy was so obvious he practically launched his daughter toward the Northflow Coast on a catapult.
Vanessa’s traveling companions included the high elf paladin Liadrin and Lirath, the fourth-born child of the legendary Windrunner clan.
Duke had originally dispatched them to serve as Calia’s companions, helping the unfortunate princess taste freedom’s sweet nectar. Technically, they answered to Duke’s authority, but ten years of shared adventures had branded them with Calia’s influence. When Calia was thrust into power by Duke’s political maneuvering, sending them back carried layers of unspoken aning.
Duke couldn’t have cared less about the political implications. After vanishing for ten years, Ilucia had continued managing his territory and influence with unwavering dedication, earning his eternal gratitude. Edwin VanCleef deserved special recognition—after Ilucia revealed that without the Edmund family’s intervention, Stormwind City would have crumbled into bankruptcy trying to fund its reconstruction, Edwin had abandoned any lingering loyalty to Stormwind’s nobility and transford into the Edmund family’s most fanatical champion.
Regardless of complicated politics, having trustworthy allies made everything infinitely easier.
Since Vanessa had volunteered to reclaim her position as head maid, Duke saw no reason to refuse. He currently commanded nothing but empty titles and desperately needed competent staff anyway.
Lirath had quietly ascended to heroic power levels, wielding roughly seventy percent of Alleria’s legendary combat prowess.
With undead forces as their primary enemy, Duke found himself dangerously vulnerable without a paladin’s holy protection. Liadrin’s arrival represented a godsend of divine intervention.
The one developnt Duke hadn’t anticipated was Vanessa imdiately declaring war on Jaina the mont she arrived, blocking the archmage’s access with the enthusiasm of a guard dog protecting its territory.
Duke massaged his temples and sighed deeply: "Vanessa, establish this as permanent policy—unless we’re facing apocalyptic ergencies, Jaina enters my tent or chambers without requiring announcents or permission."
When Duke’s voice thundered from within the tent, Vanessa grudgingly stepped aside with the grace of a cat forced to share its favorite sunny spot.
Despite her irritation at being blocked, Vanessa’s fluid movents and obvious skill earned Jaina’s grudging respect. However, watching Vanessa perform maid duties while wearing form-fitting attire that emphasized her lethal grace and magnetic presence sparked jealousy in Jaina’s chest: apparently Calia wasn’t her only rival for Duke’s attention!
Jaina compressed her lips into a thin line before sweeping into the tent with royal dignity.
"Duke, I’ve co to..."
Duke pierced straight through Jaina’s emotional turmoil and raised his hand dismissively: "Crushing the Scourge takes absolute priority. If we allow those undead bastards to successfully summon Archimonde, commander of the Burning Legion, our entire world will be reduced to smoking rubble. When that happens, all our petty concerns about honor and status beco aningless dust. Co help strategize that insufferable bastard Anasterian has just dropped a massive problem directly into my lap."
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