Duke rolled his eyes at Alleria, but deep down, he was rattled. Something wasn't adding up. This wasn't the cool, composed, legendary Alleria Windrunner he had read about in tales and scrolls. No, this version of Alleria was… bubbly. Teasing. Alarmingly inquisitive. The type to poke at your secrets like a bored cat swatting at a dangling string.
Was this really the iron-willed big sister of the Windrunner family? The one who'd wade through a horde of trolls without smudging her eyeliner? Or had he stumbled upon the mythical 20% that always diverges from canon?
Duke, wisely choosing silence, tried to keep his face neutral.
Alleria, ever the social wildfire, mistook it for discomfort. "Don't worry! I'm just a curious high elf on vacation, marveling at the wonders of human mediocrity. If I overstepped your privacy, allow me to extend a heartfelt, semi-formal apology."
She gave a playful bow.
"Oh crap," Duke thought, instinctively reaching to rub his nose. His panic reflex kicked in, and his hand extended on autopilot. "Alright. Apology accepted, Alleria."
To his surprise, she reached back. And when their hands met—bam. Shockwave.
Duke had expected the coarse, hardened hand of a bow-wielding war maiden. Instead, he got silk-wrapped marshmallow. Her fingers were smoother than a noblewoman's conscience during tax season. No calluses. No roughness. Just elegant destruction wrapped in soft skin.
"High elves... you're cheating," Duke mentally screamed. "How do you shoot a bow all day and still have better hands than me after a bubble bath?"
Alleria cocked an eyebrow. "Hey, Duke, funny thing. I don't recall ever telling you my name."
Duke froze. Internal red alert: blaring.
"...Oops."
Alleria leaned in with a devilish grin. "And here I thought all high elves looked the same to you humans. What do you call it? Face blindness, was it?"
Duke gulped audibly. He had dug himself a grave and then performed a triple backflip into it.
"W-Well... the Windrunner sisters are legendary! Even in the south!"
"PFFFFT!" Alleria erupted into laughter, nearly doubling over. "Hahaha! Oh Light above, you're killing me. Do you know even Stormwind's Grand Librarian couldn't name our king correctly? And here you are, a commoner who knows ranger generals by name. Oh, you magnificent little liar."
There was no venom in her laughter—only genuine amusement and a trace of awe.
A magic apprentice who faked death with Mirror Image. Who slung around fire spells like confetti. Who, somehow, knew obscure elf genealogy? Alleria was now fully intrigued.
Finally catching her breath, she wiped a tear from her eye. "Whew! Just when I thought you might be some kind of sage in disguise, but you got something wrong."
"Wrong?"
Alleria smirked. "There aren't three Windrunner sisters. There are four. And the most famous of us isn't me or Sylvanas. It's our youngest—Lirath. Two years ago she soloed 128 trolls in a single battle."
Duke felt his soul detach slightly.
He mentally chanted:
Oh my god.
Trolls weren't some punchline from a goblin comedian's routine. They were brutal, regenerating monsters that could chew off their own limbs and grow new ones mid-fight. As long as you didn't stick an arrow through their brain, they'd come back like discount horror villains.
And Lirath? She nuked over a hundred of them?
She wasn't a hero—she was a biological weapon with blonde hair.
But more importantly: LIRATH?! In the game, Lirath had been a dude. A tragic footnote. A male fourth sibling who died early in the troll wars. But here?
Not only was Lirath a girl, she was apparently a living legend. This was the butterfly effect with brass knuckles. Duke clutched his head.
"This world is broken. I'm going to die. The timeline is a lie. I can see my own undead self waving at me from the future."
Alleria, oblivious to Duke's internal meltdown, patted him on the shoulder. "So yeah, having an awesome sister has its downsides. Some councilors back home think the Windrunners are monopolizing the ranger ranks. Total political drama. So I took a 'vacation' and ghosted the entire kingdom."
Duke blinked. "That... that actually works?"
Alleria grinned. "High elf privilege, sweetie."
At least Duke now understood she wasn't going to rat him out. A high elf ranger general airing Quel'Thalas political laundry in casual conversation wasn't the kind of person who tattled.
He sighed, then nodded. "Alright, you don't expose me, I don't mind you secretly watching me. Deal?"
"Don't make it sound so pervy!" Alleria laughed. "Besides, if you ever get bored or want to try some weird, probably-explosive magical experiment, count me in. As a reward for being cheeky and mildly brave, here's a little something."
She handed him a thin, leather-bound pamphlet.
"This is...?"
Alleria winked. "A little ranger trick manual. Don't let the cover fool you—inside are a few dirty secrets of the trade. Consider it... a gift."
Duke accepted it, stunned.
If this was a vacationing Alleria, what was she like when she was actually serious?