World of Warcraft®

Then came the tone. You know the one. It’s indulgent, yet deceptively so, because underneath the softness lies steel as hard as any diamond mined from Silvershard. Azheira was clearly livid.

“What were you supposed to do? Hmm. Let’s see there is the small matter that I asked you to look after…” She paused and leaned forward, her eyes flashing as she stared, unblinking at Noikona. When she next spoke all traces of ease in her voice were gone and she let the full force of her ire out in just two words. “...my SON!”

Traxx, who had been sleeping upstairs, awoke at the sound of his mother’s shout and ran down to the front room as fast as his hooves could carry him.

“Mama!” He cried as he flung himself into Azheira’s arms. “I missed you! Where’s Daddy? Where’s Kaalis? Did you find her?” He fired questions faster than she could answer so she just hugged him for a few minutes, his nearness tempering her anger. When he finally pulled his head away and looked up, he saw the answers to his queries written in her expression. Tears fell as he laid his head back down on her shoulder, holding her tightly.

Azheira raised her eyes to look at Noikona. With a shake of her head, she murmured, “I can only stay today. I have to go back in the morning.”

Noikona starred at Azheira “Only today? You can’t fathom what you are up against. This is something you can’t just take on with the two of you. Please let me help. Don’t make me stay here and babysit. Gertha is more than capable of watching the place.” Her eyes bore into Azheira’s “Let me help”

Noikona slowly stood, her eyes narrowing “I don’t even know why I am asking. I am coming weather you like it or not”

“No, you are not.”

Still holding Traxx close, Azheira also stood, matching Noikona’s hard stare. She was not at all intimidated by the height difference.

“I need someone I can trust to watch over him.” She shifted Traxx to one hip so that she could hold up one hand, palm towards Noikona. “And yes, I do trust Gertha, but she is not trained in combat. If they come here…” The hardness in her gaze changed to a plea, begging for understanding. “I don’t need you to babysit him. I need you to make sure he stays safe and unharmed.”

Gently, Azheira rubbed the boy’s head as she realized he had fallen asleep in the comfort of her arms, despite the rigidity of her armor.

“Noikona, they can’t take him too. I don’t know what I would do if that happened.”

Noikona looked at Traxx and then back to Azheira. She slowly unbuckled her sword and shield, placing them on the table. Disappointment and hurt showed clearly on her face, but she nodded her head, sitting back in the chair. In a voice a bit strained “If that is what you wish then so be it”

She looked away as she continued “You have the power to summon me, do not forget that.” She bit her lip “I am you shield forever, I gave you that before the bond. I gave it because you are my friend.”

Azheira stood over the bed, watching the slow, rhythmic rise and fall of Traxx’s chest as he slept. A longing so deep and encompassing threatened to overwhelm her and she gasped. Her love for this child, who was not flesh of her flesh, was so full and complete that it staggered her. At least he was here and she could hug him as she read bedtime stories to him. Her throat constricted painfully as her right hand moved to her abdomen.

Kaalis.

The daughter neither she nor Cyrus had ever held. Azheira was loathe to leave Traxx, but she had to get back to her husband and continue the search for Kaalis. There was nothing else to do. Carefully, she bent down, leaning over the sleeping form of their son and softly pressed her lips to his forehead, silently so as to not wake him. She didn’t think she could handle a tearful goodbye without giving in to his pleas to come with her as he had done last night.

Quietly, she backed out of the room before the moisture in her eyes spilled out. There was one more farewell to give before she left. She only hoped this one would be less contentious than the greeting they had yesterday.

Illyrak hovered near the mouth of the cave, his multitude of eyes twitching as the wind blew in a few drops of rain. It seemed the gods were stirring up a storm outside.

Several eyes flickered back to watch the woman pacing the length of the cave, sparks of fel fire occasionally flying out from her fingertips. Her body shook with a shiver as she walked, but she ignored it, her expression one of deep concentration. Lola had been vacillating between this meditative state and violence for nearly a week now – ever since her link to Gib’tok had been severed. The imp had obviously failed his mission and the warlock didn’t know what to do next.

The ever present dank aroma of the cavern became momentarily stronger as a furious gust drove in. The dampness of their hideout did not bother the observer, but his mistress’ increasingly volatile moods did. Taking the child had seemed to calm her at first, but now…she was progressively becoming more irrational. Warlocks were not known for being the most tranquil of people, but Illyrak preferred a mistress who could at least keep herself under control.

All his eyes turned to watch the tempest outside as it crushed the grass and caused several rodents to seek shelter in the cave, only to scurry back out at the sight of the warlock. Illyrak could not scurry away as he was, of course, bound to Lola, but he began to wonder if there was a way to become unbound.

Caleril thought the job was easy enough, track the woman and report back her doings. He exhaled; so far it had become quite mundane. He didn’t know what exactly he was supposed to be looking for. She seemed to be normal enough, although she was quite careful on not revealing her face. In a way it made it much easier to track her. He pretended to look out over the canal when in fact he was watching her via the reflection of a window across the way; sighing her turned as he watched her exit the store. He frowned. She was gone.

Lola moved quickly through the bustling crowd outside the shop. Pulling her hood lower over her eyes, she headed in the general direction of the flight master. She had only come to town to pick up a few things for Kaalis. The baby went through formula - and diapers at a rapid pace.

She gave the entrance to the mage district only a passing glance as she entered the tunnel to the trade district. It was risky, coming to the city and not doing anything to further her current assignment regarding the rogue sleeper, but she just didn’t have time. The baby needed her and her plans to get them both out of the Eastern Kingdoms would soon come to fruition. Just a few more things had to be put in place and then – freedom.

Caleril narrowed his eyes, scanning for his target, he caught site of her at a far greater distance then he expected. Grumbling to himself he quickly made a stealthy pursuit, choosing adjacent paths to keep within eyesight of her. From her route he quickly guessed her destination. Without hesitation he made haste to get the flight master well ahead of her. He approached stealthed, taking out a rather large needle poking a gryphon square in the buttocks. The animal let out a deafening screech, its wings flailed as it clumsily took to the air causing those around to scatter. The flight master looked on in horror as it took the sky. He quickly took up chase on his own gryphon. Caleril smiled to himself, in the commotion he quickly placed himself in the position of the flight master’s booth, letting frightened customers know that everything was okay. His demeanor made it appear as if he was in charge, it didn't take long for the started customers to fall in line, purchasing their flights. He nodded with satisfaction as their gold crossed over the booth into his hands. His eyes glanced every so often for the hooded woman. He would have her gold and her destination shortly.

Frowning at the line of people snaking its way down the tunnel and onto the ramp below, Lola transferred all her shopping bags to one hand while she fished a few coins out for the flight master and waited her turn. The commotion with one of the gryphons startled the young man in front of Lola so much that he jumped backwards, knocking her packages to the ground.

Anger churned within her chest. Without thinking about it, she dropped the coins and let a jolt of fel fire stream out from her free hand directly toward the man’s eyes, blinding him. Fortunately for the warlock, the uproar with the gryphon had caught the attention of those around her. She swiftly picked up her things, stuffing them in the bags and turned. She needed another way out of the city and fast.

Caleril’s eyes narrowed as he glanced to his right. She was here and not a moment too soon. Dungar the flight master was returning with the alarmed gryphon. Caleril held up his hand to the impatient customer pointing that they would be taken care of shortly.

He left the booth and hastily made his way to her. He spoke in a polite manner “Ma’am can I help you? You appear to be in a hurry. Perhaps I can provide you safe passage out of the city?”

Lola paused and looked over the well-dressed elf. She eyed his expensive robes and wondered why someone who was clothed so fashionably would have reason to offer travel arrangements.

With suspicion in her voice, she spoke dismissively, “No, thank you.”

She turned and pushed her way through the crowd, leaving the strange man behind.

Caleril narrowed his eyes as she walked away. A slim smile crested his lips as he purposefully began to follow. He didn't bother to hide the fact that he was tailing her; in fact he wanted her to know he was. She was bound to get angry and make mistakes.

His job was to watch her and report, may as well have some fun with it now.

The light within the stone flickered as her thumb brushed back and forth across its surface. Azheira let go of it and the necklace settled back between her breasts. Leaning forward, she placed both hands on the balcony railing and looked out across the grassy plains of Nagrand as the aroma of an early morning breakfast fire drifted towards the room she and Cyrus had rented in Telaar.

Her gaze traveled back to Cyrus’ massive form on the bed. He was sleeping, finally. Rest had been an elusive and rare occurrence for both of them in the past three weeks since they had received the clue. The box Nabbi found on the porch had contained two items. A pacifier and a scrap of a blanket, a handkerchief. The cloth had a small tag attached with the words ‘Property of CATSE’. Neither Azheira nor Cyrus had known what that meant. They asked around, but no one seemed to know anything. Then, she had shown the box to Noikona.

Azheira had never seen her friend react to anything like that before. Fear was evident in Noikona’s eyes as her body trembled and she fell to the ground. As she told Azheira what she knew of this cult-like group who had taken Kaalis, unadulterated terror had threatened to consume the paladin. She and Cyrus went about trying to find out if there was anything about the box and its contents that would give them an idea of where to search.

What they had found out wasn’t much to go on, but it had led them to Outland. The clasp on the box was made of ivory – specifically, the ivory from an elekk’s tusk. The cloth wasn’t just a linen blanket. It had been crafted using imbued netherweave. Mr. Bolero, the tailor they had spoken with, informed them this type of shadowcloth was only found through the dark portal. The Sagewinds had left almost immediately.

Azheira’s eyes closed as she leaned further out, feeling the breeze lift wisps of her hair to flutter across her face. Her nose twitched slightly from the tickling strands as well as the new odors wafting up from below. The smell from the fire had changed. It was now mixed with the scents of bacon grease and coffee. She inhaled deeply before turning on her bare feet to tread lightly back into the room. Stopping by the bed, she looked down at Cyrus. Azheira longed to slide in and curl up next to him. Sometimes, when they were together, she could almost…almost forget.

Instead, she reached for her clothes on the nearby chair. They had an elekk trainer to talk to.

Consumed with thoughts of getting home, Lola did not stop or look back. She pressed on, through the city streets until she reached the tram entrance. Her determined expression faltered when she saw that it was just as crowded here as it was back at the flight master’s roost.

Holding her packages close to her body so they would not be jostled from her hands again, she purchased a ticket and weaved her way to the front of the crowd. The tram was a few minutes late, which only soured her mood further. She shunted an elderly dwarf out of her way when it seemed he was going to get the last spot in the tram car she was vying for. A hoarse cry choked out of his mouth, but there were so many people and elbows, he had no idea who to blame.

Lola struggled to keep steady as the tram lurched forward. Her eyes glazed slightly as her thoughts began to focus on her goals. She took no notice of those around her as she began to mentally prepare for what she must do.

The fork scraped the bottom of the plate as she listlessly pushed her food around in a misshapen circle on the ceramic surface. Cyrus reached across the table and lifted her chin with two fingers until her eyes met his.

“Eat, Azheira.”

“It won’t help,” was her glum reply, but she raised the fork and stuck a piece of medium-well talbuk steak in her mouth anyway. Cyrus held her gaze until she ate three more bites and then went back to his own meal.

Their meeting with the elekk trainer had proven to be less than useless. He had only been able to confirm that the latch on the box had come from an elekk’s tusk. Great. They already knew that. Cyrus had come very close to punching the poor man simply out of frustration and probably would have if Azheira hadn’t stopped him. It seemed as if every lead they had on this trip had been a dud.

Their first week had been spent in Shadowmoon Valley. Mr. Bolero had suggested they start there to ask about the cloth. No one knew anything about the scrap except that it was, in fact, shadowcloth. However, they had received one promising lead when they had questioned some people at the Sanctum of the Stars. Questioned, of course, was delicate way to describe Cyrus’ manner of getting answers. A middle aged blood elf had taken one look at the box and held up his hands in surrender before the warrior had even looked at him. He had recognized the material from which the box was made. The elf told them that the Arakkoa preferred to live among certain types of trees that would support their hanging houses. This box came from the wood from one of those trees.

A second week in Outland had Cyrus and Azheira traveling much of the time. They scoured the wooded seclusions of the bird people, beginning in Terokkar. The only conclusion that had been drawn was that the material the box was crafted from had come from Raven’s Wood in the far northwest of the mountainous Blades Edge territory. Now, here they were in Nagrand with another dead end. Azheira set down her fork and reached over to flip the latch on the box.

Snick.

Snick.

Snick.

“We will find Kaalis, Azheira. Someone has to know something about Lola and this CATSE group.” The sound of the latch snapping back and forth must have been annoying to Cyrus because he set one hand firmly over hers.

“She’s almost two months old, Cy!” Azheira’s voice broke into a hundred pieces of glass and shattered. She looked away as the innkeeper came to clear their plates. The elderly Draenei gave Azheira a sympathetic glance she did not see as he wiped the table.

In a subdued tone he politely asked, “Will there be anything else this evening?”

Cyrus shook his head and the old man bowed slightly. As he did so, his hand surreptitiously slipped into his pocket and pulled out a piece of parchment. Giving Cyrus a particularly pointed glance, the innkeeper slid the paper under the box and quickly left them alone. Neither of them said a word. Cyrus picked up the box and piece of paper in one fluid motion and held out his other hand to Azheira.

Upon entering their room, Azheira turned to him with wide eyes, waiting expectantly for him to read whatever it was the innkeeper had not wished to tell them in public.

Looking grim, Cyrus set the box down and slowly unfolded the parchment. In a scrawl so tiny it was nearly illegible were written two words.

Sab’aoth – Netherstorm.

Behind her and just to her left, Cyrus scowled as the goblin flight master held out his hand for a tip. Her lips twitched as Azheira could tell her husband was seriously debating whether or not to simply stomp on the goblin and be done with it. She walked around the small awning and peered across the vast expanse of the Twisting Nether. Although she could not see it from this distance, Hellfire was to the south. Somewhere, just off of one of the floating rocks of Hellfire, the dread lord had tumbled into the Nether. The paladin closed her eyes and willed Beltezher to keep tumbling forever.

A minute later she felt Cyrus come up behind her. He stood close to her back as his hands gently rubbed up and down her arms. Taking one of her hands in his, he led her past the flight master and over to the entrance to Cosmowrench.

The two goblin bruisers at the outpost’s ingress didn’t seem at all phased by the considerable size of the Draenei warrior approaching them. They seemed even less impressed by the human female at his side. Azheira tugged on Cyrus’ arm, indicating she wanted to speak to them. He grinned at her and pulled her hand so that she was standing slightly in front of him.

Her soft, delicate voice was incongruous with the rather guttural sounding Orcish language she spoke to them. One goblin arched both brows and suspiciously eyed her up and down. The other blinked and stood there, dumbfounded. After a moment of silence, the first goblin turned and pointed inside the small settlement. Cyrus chuckled and squeezed her hand as they entered.

“It seems you actually have been paying attention during my lessons.” He paused to smirk at her. “That is, when you aren’t trying to distract me.”

She grinned slyly as she stood on her toes to kiss his cheek. Moments of levity were rare for them these days and they took this instant for what it was – a spark of past happiness and a glimpse of hope for their future.

The compound appeared even smaller from the inside. Only a handful of goblins milled about. And there, near the back wall was the man they were looking for. He was easy to spot, of course, because he was the only human present aside from Azheira. He smiled as they approached and held out his arms in a welcoming gesture.

“Good afternoon, sir.” He bowed his head toward Cyrus before turning to Azheira. He took her hand and lifted it as if to brush her fingertips with a kiss. A menacing growl from the Draenei warrior at her side had the human hastily dropping her hand and clearing his throat. When he spoke, his tone was pleasant, but abrupt. “What can I do for you?”

Azheira decided it might be best to not speak to this particular man so she remained quiet as Cyrus interrogated him.

“You are known as Sab’oath.” It wasn’t really a question so much as a statement, but the human replied as if it were a query.

“Yes, my name is Sab’oath.” He then repeated his previous question. “What can I do for you?”

“You are a member of the Twilight’s Hammer Cult.” Again, it was not an inquiry, and Cyrus’ tone left no room for argument.

“Yes, well, no, not exactly. I am former member. In fact, I am currently writing a book about my experiences with that group.” He turned to the small table behind him and picked up a leather bound manuscript, holding it out to Cyrus. “I have my work here if you care to read it.”

Cyrus didn’t even look at the journal. “During your time with the Hammer, did you ever work with group by the name of CATSE?”

Sab’aoth suddenly seemed to have a great deal to do. He tossed the manuscript into a crate followed by his bottles and flasks. Azheira quirked a brow at Cyrus. Without speaking they moved into position so he had no way to exit. The human grabbed the crate and spun around, but was stopped by the sight of Cyrus’ glower.

“Don’t even think about it. Just tell us what you know and we will let you go.”

Glancing at the bruiser on his right, Sab’aoth could see by the expression on her face that the goblins neutral stance would hold here. For a brief moment it was obvious he considered making a break for it, but eyeing Cyrus’ massive arms seemed to dissuade him from that notion.

“Yes. I worked with them. Once.”

Azheira and Cyrus retained their silent stances and waited. Sab’aoth sighed heavily.

“We, that is, the Hammer needed a poison for a particular subject. As toxins are my specialty, I was told to work with the CATSE scientists to create this specific liquid. My time with them was short, but memorable.” The glass jars in the crate he was holding rattled as his hands shook. “They are ruthless and will do whatever it takes to get what they want.”

Tension stretched out between the three of them as the reality of just who Kaalis was with settled in Cyrus’ and Azheira’s minds.

Sab’aoth eyed the Sagewinds curiously as he continued. “These people are involved in many things, some are harmless, such as gambling and prostitution. But they are also involved in in assassinations, kidnappings, indoctrination through brain washing, weapons manu—“ He broke off as Azheira crumpled into Cyrus’ side. The warrior held her tightly so she wouldn’t fall.

“Brain washing?”

Sab’aoth nodded slowly.

“Cy!”

“I know, Azheira. I know.” Cyrus’ expression was hard as the rock beneath their feet as he looked at Sab’aoth. “Now tell us where we can find them.”

“I don’t…they are everywhere - in government, in religion, across both the Horde and Alliance – everywhere.”

Cyrus began to fire off questions like an archer letting arrows fly at his target. “Yeah? Well try to be more specific. Have you ever heard of someone called Lola? Where were the ones you worked with? And who was this subject of yours? Maybe we can find him and get some answers.”

Sab’aoth shook his head. “Lola? No. And the test subject was a female. I don’t know where to find her. All I know is that she was a pet project of one of their researchers. He never gave her name. Only referred to her by a number – 238.”

Azheira clutched at Cyrus’ arm and gave him a horrified glance. She found her voice and without turning her gaze from Cyrus’ eyes she asked, “Was she Draenei?"

Surprise covered Sab’aoth’s face. “Yes, I just remembered that. How did you…” His question trailed off as Cyrus and Azheira had already turned to go.

“No, Traxx you have to look beyond the illusion. The hand that you see isn’t your own but a force of mana giving the resemblance and feel of a draenei’s.” Noikona said looking over his shoulder. The drawing he was attempting was actually quite good, a sketch of Azheira and himself fishing by the dock. He just hadn’t got the feel of the quill in his disguised hand, but was doing quite well nevertheless.

Noikona backed away letting him have his space, she knew how she disliked others looking over her shoulder while she was creating. Nabbi was in her room doing who knows what and Gertha was busy in the kitchen. It would soon be time for her to head to the Recluse to check the ledgers.

She was about to take a seat when a knock came from the door, grumbling she crossed the room and opened the door.

Pain shot through her side as a blade flashed through the open door. She gasped, lunging forward causing her assailant to back away. Wasting no time, her axe and shield found their homes in her hands. She kept herself between him and the door. Her eyes flared emerald as she yelled “You picked the wrong house to rob!”

Her assailant was well armored; a warrior like herself his stance showed him to be well trained as he quickly shifting his grip on his blade and charged. Noikona swiftly raised her shield, rolling to the side. She brought her axe out in a wide arc but only met air. Cursing she turned charging at him, wrapping her blade around his in a dance of sparks; her strength easily overpowering him, sending his weapon clattering to the ground.

His eyes narrowed at her as he backed away to where his blade lay, his voice came out slyly “Well done, now let’s finish this honorably” He bent down to retrieve his blade.

Noikona shrugged bringing her axe down hard on his back “Seldom does honor win on the battle field!”

She yanked her axe out letting the dead man fall to the ground and turned back to the house only to be met with arrow in her shoulder. She heard laughter now, a small voice “She's better than I thought”

Her eyes flashed to the voice, a gnome. Her face darkened as she charged. She took one step and panic overcame her. The gnome was casting banish. She was out of reach; there was no chance to interrupt the spell. How could she know?

Noikona stayed frozen in place she watched in horror as three mercenaries approached the house. What appeared to be the leader threw a gas bomb into the open door before donning strange masks. They entered the now misty interior. Her distress was evident as she stood helpless in the grasp of the tiny warlock.

The three quickly returned carrying the limp form of Traxx, no others came. One of the mercenaries turned to the gnome “Darkshore?”

The gnome shot him a hard glance, only nodding her head.

Noikona could now feel the banishment wearing off. Her grip on her axe tightened, her muscles strained to move. The mercenaries slowly faded from view as they hearthed with Traxx. The gnome stayed watching Noikona with a smirk on her face. She finally spoke “238 you have been bad, but your time is coming.

Almost falling forward in a sudden rush Noikona hurried forward towards the gnome. The attack came from behind. Noikona fell face first onto the cobblestones, her hands clawing at the small of her back where a dagger had buried itself almost to the hilt. A smug voice spoke from behind her “You’re right honor has no place on the battle field. Soul stones work wonders.”

The warrior walked to the gnome nodding at her. “A pleasure working for you. Call again if you need anything else”

The gnome rolled her eyes waving him away “You have been paid now leave”

Shrugging he walked away grinning once more at Noikona before he quickened his pace.

The gnome walked slowly up to Noikona nudging the dagger with her foot “That looks painful. Perhaps I should pull it out?”

In a desperate attempt Noikona tried to grab the gnome’s leg, but instead caught a boot in the face; then there was blackness.

Kosuzu bent down over the unconscious woman. She inspected her wounds, nodding with satisfaction, they weren’t life threatening. Casually she brushed Noikona’s hair away on the back of her neck. The mark designating her purpose and number still shown as if it were just branded. Her tiny hands moved over the warm skin as she whispered “How did you get away from us?”

Her hands moved to Noikona’s right ear, her eyes narrowed as a frown crossed her lips. A tiny scar could be felt. She bit her lip as she inspected further. Surgery had been done. The device had been removed.

From her satchel she removed a small box and remarked as she opened it “Lola has plans for you, but one can never be sure. I believe in contingency plans.”

A groan came from Noikona as a miniscule mechanical eight legged creature entered her left ear. Kosuzu watched until it vanished. She stood patting the top of Noikona’s head “That’s a good girl, now you get your rest. You’ll probably need it”

Kosuzu walked away leaving her where she lay.