I made some changes as per your suggestions, as usual 
It was Coran who held Dor’ash back, for example.
About the black or white, there’s enough white in this one already. Sheezus! XD Ah, but I’m a bit sad that the more spiritual or whatever one would call it, the sense of that is giving away for more pulpy style again. Oh, I like writing it like this, but that start definitely was something else. Well, Sarah will have an unusual moment in a while, though…
Okay, a bit longer this time, we’re reaching one of those parts I’ve had written down for quite a while and just been trying to reach for the whole story. Enh!
He came to slowly, consciousness simmering painfully. There was some resistance, a feeling that there was something waiting for him when he woke up, something he did not want to face. Still he plunged upwards, driven past the anxiety by worry – the stronger knowledge that it was important, that he had to wake up.
His eyes fluttered open and he blinked at the green glow hovering above him. It faded, revealing a blue, clawed hand which carefully moved away. Dor’ash moved his eyes only, blinking again until the mostly blue blur became Malo.
The draenei shaman watched him with concern, a hesitant scowl twisting the skin above his glowing eyes. The confusion shattered, and the memory did not stay away for a moment longer.
“How long was I gone?” Dor’ash croaked, clearing his throat and grimacing.
Sarah was gone.
He knew that once and for all. The anger failed to flare up again. No use.
“Just a few minutes,” Malo said, his voice low.
Dor’ash pushed himself up, finding that they had placed him on the blanket again. Thoughtful.
The other draenei sat around the fire, but only Coran glanced at Dor’ash – then quickly turned to look into the dancing flames, shoulders hunched. Nobody spoke, but Malo silently offered Dor’ash the orc’s own water sack. He just waved it away, and Malo didn’t insist.
“What was that darkness?” the draenei shaman wondered after a moment.
“The Lich King, I believe,” Dor’ash said in a dull voice.
He stared towards the exit of the cave, even though the crack of white stung his eyes. There was so much dark stone around the opening that the snow outside turned a sharp, painful shade. Taking in a deep breath, he shook his head.
“All Forsaken once broke free of his mind control,” he muttered, “but as I understand it, they start losing control to him again when they age or die slowly.”
Even though he kept watching the exit, part of him noticed how the silence grew heavy. Malo slowly shook his head, rubbing his cheek. The sound of Coran’s hoofs scratching the hard ground was unnaturally loud in that atmosphere. The young vindicator looked to Valenia, who met his eyes briefly and then looked away. For a moment Coran’s gaze wandered towards Subonai, but stopped.
“I’m-” Coran finally said, turning towards Dor’ash. “I’m sorry, I truly am.”
Dor’ash met his gaze for a second, but didn’t make a sound or movement to reply. The vindicator could be as sorry as he wanted, he was still the one who separated the two friends. Right then, Dor’ash couldn’t find a splinter of forgivance in his soul.
He couldn’t stand being there, but he could not really leave either. However…
Narrowing his eyes at the exit, Dor’ash took in a deep breath and forced his mind to focus. In the next moment his sight leapt outside again, rushing through the landscape. Again the spirits called around him, in sadness rather than fear this time.
It would be torture to see what she was now, he knew that, but he could not just sit there. Right now, he still knew roughly where she was – if he lost her, there would be no hope at all.
There had to be something he could do for her, some way to save her. She had freed herself from that mind control before, he’d said so himself just a minute ago. But was that something that could be done again?
He tried to push that thought away, but even as he did so, part of him knew that she might be lost. Then what, if he found her?
She wouldn’t want to be another mindless slave. Then-
His painful line of thoughts snapped when he spotted the patch of darkness. But it seemed so much smaller than before…
Unsure what to think, he swept in that direction, and then saw a group of thin shadows trudging through the white. Forsaken, some in robes and some in armor – and Sarah in their midst, half dragged, half carried along between two of them. She staggered, her were movements slow and weak, but lacked the singleminded march of a Scourge zombie.
A wild hope flared up in him as he stared at the scene. No Forsaken would have let her live if she was a slave to the Lich King. Yet, the darkness was still thick around her. For a second he wondered if they could see it.
Then, his mind clicked from being numbed by surprise, and he realized that they might be searching for him and Coran. Mentally swearing he drew backwards, towards the pull of his body, and concluded that they were heading in the same direction. Not straight, no, but there was no guarantee they could not find the cave. He couldn’t see any tracks in the snow, but couldn’t be sure that there were none. The storm should have eradicated a lot of them, but perhaps not all.
He turned and sped back, catching sight of something large and red in all the white, but the world was flashing past him and his spirit slammed back into his body. A half-strangled sound left his lips and he tried to stand. Malo was there in an instant, trying to settle him down again.
“Some Forsaken found her, but they’re coming this way,” Dor’ash snarled at the confused shaman. Malo blinked, staring at him. “You have to flee, now!”
The others got to their hooves, speaking quickly in Draenei. Malo waved a hand in a sharp motion, glaring at the white crack in the cliff. A hesitant lull fell as his hand sunk and his face slackened. Seconds snailed by, but then he straightened up with a shudder.
“He’s right, there are undead coming this way,” Malo hissed, standing up with a loud clatter. “We must leave here!”
Setting her jaw, Valenia hurried towards the elekks.
“But can we make it in the storm?” Coran asked, eyes narrowing at the crack in the wall.
“Believe me, we will have a better chance-” Malo started.
Dor’ash opened his mouth, knowing he could give them some advice to give them a bit of a chance. However, he never got so far as to share that before they were all interrupted.
The rock, partly and badly blocking the exit, exploded. Heat seared through the air momentarily, and the elekks let out shrieking trumpeting sounds. Luckily they didn’t stampede in their panic, but stumbled against each other in their corner.
Valenia cried out in Draenei, a single word. Even though he didn’t understand, Dor’ash could brave a guess. Hooves clopped hard against the ground as Coran and Subonai rushed towards the entrance to the cave, drawing their weapons. Malo took a few steps forwards, then cautiously stopped and reached for a pouch on his belt. He paused, casting a tense glance at Dor’ash.
“I’ll try-” the orc started in a growl, but the familiar sound of a demon’s roar cut him off. Cursing, he hurried towards the exit. Nobody tried to stop him, both Coran and Subonai far too busy squinting at what was just a few steps outside.
The snow whirled around the huge, armored form of a felguard, but it seemed perfectly at ease with the onslaught of wind and cold as it raised its huge axe, grinning down and showing off rows of uneven, pointy teeth. The vindicators bristled, but they were not looking at the demon’s face but a little bit to the left.
A Forsaken woman in a dark robe, like a stain of oil against the white in the air, hung over the felguard’s shoulder. Her smirk was very much reminiscent of the demon’s expression.
“Oh no, no, no, let’s not get violent,” the warlock cooed in her hoarse voice, speaking Common. “You might frighten my little baby.” She tapped a finger against the demon’s shoulder plate, causing a hard ticking sound for each rap.
“What do you want, wretch?” Subonai demanded.
For what it was worth, the felguard was far too big to easily make it through the cave opening, but that wouldn’t stop the warlock’s spells. Still, it was only one of her. Considering the circumstances, she and her pet were not a great danger on their own – but the demon would have leverage on anybody trying to burst out of the cave. Its axe was already raised and just waiting for one of the vindicators to try.
Tilting her elbows against the huge shoulder pad beneath her, the warlock daintily pressed her raw-bone fingertips against each other and smiled.
“You wouldn’t possibly be the bad, bad draenei who abducted our little sister Sarah’s orc friend, would you?” she asked.
Both Coran and Subonai tensed, but didn’t reply. After a moment, the warlock tilted her head.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” Her mouth pursed and stretched in a sweet smile. “I do hope he’s in one piece, boys. You wouldn’t want to live with the knowledge that you denied a dying woman her final wish, would you?”
She grinned at the word “live.” Not very subtle. However, Dor’ash hardly even noticed, as the words coming after that grin tore into his soul.
He stepped forwards, to get within sight from outside. Subonai threw a glare at him, but didn’t try to stop him as he moved up beside the two vindicators.
“I’m here,” Dor’ash said in Common, lightly touching the fingers of his good hand to his bandaged arm. “I’m Dor’ash.”
Half of him, the half not preoccupied with fearing for Sarah’s sake, silently prayed for some possibility to save the draenei. If the group of Forsaken reached the cave, Malo and the others would be lucky if they were simply killed. After all that had taken place here, Dor’ash couldn’t allow that.
“Ah, that’s a relief,” the warlock said and ducked her head, muttering under her breath. In a flare of felfire, a floating eyeball appeared above her head and zoomed off into the snow storm, away from the cliffs. Dor’ash tensely watched it disappear amongst the whirling, white flakes. It had to be a sign for the others to come.
Already he wanted to protest, but knew very well that it would also put him in danger to try to defend a group of Alliance soldiers. He would have to look for some opportunity.
She waved her hand, and the felguard reached up. It gripped her around the middle and set her down not too gently, but she didn’t seem rattled as she straightened her slouching back after being more shoved at the ground than anything else.
“How is Sarah?” Dor’ash asked, his jaw clenching.
The pleased smile faded from the woman’s lips and she shook her head.
“Almost gone,” she said, lifting her head to look straight at him. “She wants to see you.”
He had known that she was fading. That didn’t make the words hurt any less, and he pinched his eyes shut. She had needed him, desperately, and he hadn’t been there.
“Isn’t there any way to stop it?” he asked, looking back at the warlock.
In a stark contrast to what he expected, the sneer did not return to her expression. It dawned on him, then, although he had always known it in theory. Yet, not until this moment did he see simple, undeniable proof of just how greatly the Forsaken hated the Lich King.
“I don’t want to call it impossible. We’ve all done it once,” the woman said in a voice that seemed oddly soft for a Forsaken, doubly so for a warlock. “But, it might be her time.”
He wanted to shake his head, but, who was he to say? As a shaman, and a warrior of the Horde, he was well aware of what death was. It never even touched his mind how ironic this all was – Sarah had already died years ago. Still, she was so full of life that it had been ages since he saw an undead when he looked at her. He saw only Sarah.
Action! Romance! An epic triangle drama that will be remembered forever! Will our hero manage to save all his friends? Whose brain will get eaten?
WHAT WERE THEY THINKING?! Truth be told, I don’t bother much with fanfics these days. Sure, I have a couple that have been in the making since before the dinosaurs… Kinda depressing when you think about it. I’ll have to finish a story before the end of this year. I keep starting stuff and then I get a bad case of writer’s block even though the general outline and conclusion are already in my head… But in the meantime, I’ve got a couple of authors on my radar, and I stick to them because I know they’re good. Which reminds me, I really should check the stuff you have there on 
and write snarky critiques. Which occasionally garners author tantrums.