World of Warcraft®

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Gentyl walked out to the tree where Faithe sat. She was absently pulled petals from flowers and dropping them in a bowl. The guild hall had so many drying racks filled with herbs and flower petal Gentyl wondered if they should open up an apothecary shop. The girl reminded Gentyl of a simpleton someone had taught to weave baskets. The boy sat on a stool day after day weaving baskets until someone led him away to eat or sleep.

"Faithe?'

Faithe continued methodically disassembling the rose in her hand. Blood dripped down her arm where she had shredded it on the thorns. When the flower was done, she looked up and frowned slightly. "Yes, Sepha?"

"I'm leaving on that trip I discussed. I wanted to check on you."

She smiled that automatic little smile, like the ones painted on wooden puppets. "Oh, yes, I'm fine. Teriis brought me some..." She wrinkled her brow as she thought and then shrugged. "He brought lunch."

Gentyl sighed. "All right. Well, we need to start packing. As soon as we move, I am leaving."

"Yes, ma'am. I already have most of my things packed. Teriis helped."

Gentyl looked over in the shadow of the wall where Teriis waited and watched, his shawl pulled over his shoulders. Maybe if he could get her started playing chess.

She hadn't planned on moving this soon, but the last meeting with Imperon was the one that broke the camels back. The masons assured her the tower would be ready even if some of the finish work wasn't done. With luck, even that would be.

She made a mental note to check on the chessboard she was having crafted.

Faithe straightened her new room again. She smoothed out the fine wool blanket folded and d#%@*d neatly across the foot of her bed even though it was already perfectly flat. It was blue, the same color as her eyes, and soft as velvet. Gentyl had it made for her when she returned.

When Faithe was sure everything was in order, she stepped through the door and listened. Meriste and Mira were laughing and talking in between chords of a new song Mira was writing. Fordinn guffawed at Baradin who was complaining about some ale. They were hearty voices given to jokes and complaints as only dwarves can do. Outside, she heard the ring of sword on sword as other Guards practiced on the new training ground.

Hearthglen was beautiful. Flowers abounded. It was filled with the sounds and sights of life.

She went out to the garden to gather more red roses for the rose oil and to dry some of the petals for potpourri. When her basket was full, she returned to the still room Gentyl had constructed for the apothecaries in the order.

Faithe pulled the petals from the blossoms gently and dropped them onto the drying screen. They fell to the white cheesecloth, stark and dark against the pristine background.

The cheesecloth turned to white marble floors and the petals turned to blood dripping from her mouth. Her body sprawled across the bed with her head drooping off the side. One eye was swollen shut, but with the other she watched the droplets fall to the floor, spattering as they hit. Her right arm hung limp off the edge of the bed. If she squinted her eye just right the bruises around her wrist turned to amethyst bracelets. She tried to smile, but grimmaced at the pain.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

The blood flow was slowing now.

Outside, there was the sharp crack of gunfire and she jerked her eyes open. She stared at the screen and rose petals for a moment and then threw the remaining flowers on it and sank to the floor sobbing.

The rising sun peered out over the edge of the horizon, flooding the streets of Orgrimmar with a soft golden light. Dusty red soil had not yet risen into the air from the feet of the people; merchants prepared for the start of a new day, arranging goods in baskets and on shelves. A lone Tauren walked slowly through the Drag in the stillness of the morning.

Auraha Winterhoof often walked the streets of Orgrimmar in the early hours. While she walked with An'she's rising light, her soul felt still, at peace. She could hear her thoughts as clearly as the voices of the merchants as they prepared for the rush of customers.

A sudden, angry screech from one of the merchants pierced the stillness of the air. A small blur of dingy fur darted into the street, pursued by the angry merchant, knocking over a stack of empty crates as they ran up the road towards Auraha. The terrified creature headed straight for the first thing it could climb and scrambled frantically up the Tauren's body, claws digging through soft fur into flesh. Auraha flinched, wincing with the sharp and sudden pain. With a swift swing of her arm, she grasped the animal by the scruff of its neck with her massive fingers. Holding it away from her body, she realized it was a kitten.

"Dat cat yours?" The merchant, an imposing troll woman, glared at Auraha angrily. "It be eating my fish!"

Auraha looked at the kitten hanging submissively from her fingers, its eyes wide with terror. Its fur, which might have once been white, was dirty and matted. The pads of its paws were rough and cracked, unfamiliar with rough terrain. Ears pinned back with fear and limbs hauntingly limply in Auraha's grasp, the kitten was a pitiful sight. She considered it for a moment.

"Yes, the cat is mine. I apologize for any trouble it caused you." With her free hand, Auraha reached into a pouch at her hip and produced a handful of coins. "Please take these as compensation for the fish. If you have more in stock, I would like to purchase one."

The merchant uttered a grumbled, but seemingly satisfied response. She returned to her shop and came back with a large silver fish in hand.

"Here ya go. Keep dat cat away from my fish from now on."

"Thank you. Blessings of An'she upon you."

The troll woman snorted and walked away, returning to preparing her stand for the day. Auraha peered at the kitten. It had calmed down to an extent and was eyeing the fish in her hand hungrily.

"I think I know what you need, little one."

---

An'she had risen in full, bathing the Valley of Wisdom in bright sunlight. Auraha sat with her legs extended, hooves resting against smooth rock. The kitten, now with a full belly of fish, was playing with the tuft of Auraha's tail as it swayed gently from side to side. Auraha stared out over the pond, deep in thought.

She knew the sound of the carefully shuffling feet behind her without turning around.

"Hello, Nesh."

The Forsaken carefully lowered himself to sit at her side, feeling the warm rock with his bony fingers. "'tis Chaser-of-Suns." Peering out with a sightless gaze, he sniffed, sensing a new scent. "And…'tis cat?"

Auraha gently picked up the kitten and placed it in Nesh's hands. "A kitten."

Nesh took the kitten in his hands, feeling the shape of its tiny body under the messy fur. "'tis. Pony has cats." He gently stroked the kitten's fur, tracing two fingers from the back of its head to the base of its tail.

She sighed deeply, shaking her mane. "I don't know anything about caring for kittens. Perhaps the Greatmother can help."

"Per'aps." Nesh looked down at the kitten in his hands as if seeing something. "'tis has collar."

Auraha looked over at the kitten in surprise. She had not noticed before. Sure enough, the kitten had a collar - light blue, sturdy, but stained with dirt. There were no visible tags. Auraha stared at it with a new sense of concerned frustration.

"It belongs to someone. But…there are no tags. How will we ever find the rightful owner?"

Faithe wandered out to the stable. The members of Pia had a new horse waiting for her when she got home. The mare even looked a bit like Cinder and she was sweet natured, but the bond had not yet grown.

The hay was sweet and pungent at the same time, filling the air with rich, earthy perfume, as Faithe gathered up an armful for Seilo, the new mare. The horse nickered and nuzzled Faithe then buried her velvet nose in the fodder. A tiny white head peeped around the corner at Faithe and stared at her then ducked back behind the feed barrel.

Faithe was so shocked she stood still as a statue and then finally inched forward to find the kitten. It had been a kitten. She was sure of that. Maybe. Maybe she was seeing things again. Snow was lost in Orgrimmar. There was no way she could find her way home.

Faithe leaned over the feed barrel and peered down behind it. There in the shadow was a tiny white kitten with gray spots. It looked up at her with gray eyes and mewed plaintively. She sighed with disappointment even though she knew there was no way Snow could have found her way home. The best she could hope for was a good home for her lost kitten.

"Come here, kitty. Let's get you some food."

Gentyl leaned over the table looking at the maps. "I can't imagine him being in these tiny camps. Are you sure the information is correct?"

The scout sat on the edge of the table, one long leg braced against the floor and the other swinging slightly as if he were discussing the best place to fish. Their fishing trips so far had yielded nothing. Meshqa was still free and they weren't one bit closer to capturing or killing him.

"I bring you the information as I get it. I If I were positive about the turn of a card, I'd be a gambler, which, by the way is where we got this information. One of his men was grumbling about having to leave town to escort him. The goblin is looking at some artifacts and wants to deal discretely."

Gentyl speared a lemon from a bowl with her dagger and sliced it into four precise wedges, then squeezed a quarter into her tea. "Well, at least it's not women."

"He actually prefers to buy women in Orgrimmar," the scout said. "Unless it's a special case like your girl. Too many opportunities to damage the goods when they travel."

The lemon rind banged against the bucket Gentyl threw it in. "Yes, it would be horrible for his goods to be damaged." She slid the pouch with gold across the table. "Thank you, B. Stay safe."

He picked up the pouch and stuck it inside his shirt without counting the coins. "Safe as a babe in his mama's arms." He laughed and winked, then sauntered out the door.

Gentyl waited until the door closed behind him and then sat down and looked around at her war council. "Thoughts?"

"If we ride hard we may be able to catch him quickly, before he has a chance to melt away," Taelanas said.

Razil studied the maps. "Move this way to cut him off." He motioned with his hand across the map.

"I agree," said Taelanas. "If we wait for him at the end of the route, he can escape too easily. Cut him off from his escape route."

Gentyl sipped the tea. The longer they were out, the more chance someone would notice them. Not only Meshqa's men, but any horde who might be defending the settlements. However, that gave them four point to search instead of one. She wanted that goblin dead.

"Do it. Send out word to our friends we'll need help."

The small army congregated at Darnassus and rode to the first town on the route. If all went well, they would find the goblin and put an end to him. If not. Well, there were four more settlements he might be. They would search them all.

They hit the Lumber Camp first. The defenders put up a valiant struggle, but in the end every hut was searched thoroughly by at least two teams. Meshqa had been there, but he was away before they had hit.

Cray pointed to the sky. "Two horde, Sepha."

She shaded her eyes with her hand and looked to where he was pointing. The scouts hovered in the air, watching and no doubt reporting the attack. "Drop them if they land, but I suspect they will wait for reinforcements."

The camp was in ruins when they left. It was not what she wanted, but there was no doubt in her mind it would rebuilt quickly. The horde were not going to let go of the valuable resources. If it had been up to Gentyl they would burn it and every other horde settlement in this area down to the ground every day until they no longer rebuilt.

"Splintertree?" asked Taelanas, as he sat astride the charger, looking down the road.

"Aye, tell everyone to stay together. If they bring reinforcements, they'll pick off stragglers."

"Move out," he shouted above the din. "Stay in formation."

A shadow, black and forbidding, floated over her. She took one last look over her shoulder and shuddered. The vultures were already circling for the feast. She knew the truth, though. The vultures would hop away at any movement.. A wounded man might save himself from them, but the other scavengers would not be so timid about claiming their dinner. In the brush beside the road a feral hog grunted in annoyance and squealed when the tangled roots caught him fast by the ankle. He pulled himself free and trotted eagerly toward the battle they'd just left. The hogs would descend on the wounded soon and make short work of them. She'd seen it before. She'd seen enough of it to lose any appetite for hog meat.

She stayed beside the road to make sure no stragglers stayed behind. A lone man would be a dead man.

The horde scouts hovered in the background. Trouble would be here soon enough. They had to move quickly if they were going to intercept Meshqa. She kicked Valor into a gallop as the last man rode past. Three hogs trotted past, eying her briefly, but more intent on the scent of blood than threatening a mounted rider.

"Get your wounded up," she whispered.

There were more shadows now. They should have gone to the air, but Gentyl knew one of Meshqa's weaknesses, and there weren't many. He was terrified of flying. If he and his men were near, they would be on the ground and making their way through the forest. It would take troops on the ground to see them.

A shadow floated across her as Valor cantered down the road. She listened absently to the pounding hooves on the packed roads. The beats were rhythmic and solid, like war drums she had heard from troll villages.

Only one shadow.

She looked over her shoulder three were following. Two were missing. They had sent for reinforcements or were scouting to the sides where she couldn't see them.

There was no turning back now. They had to find him and they would if the information was correct.

Splintertree fell. Once again they searched every building, every hiding spot, every crate. Meshqa and his men were not there. A few horde defenders gathered to stand with the locals, but Gentyl knew more were on their way. They recognized a Steam tabard among the scouts. It wouldn't be long before defenders overwhelmed them. They had to hurry.

"Are you sure he isn't here," Gentyl asked Finneus who had been racing from one place to another searching.

"No goblins here at all, Sepha."

"Gather up and roll out," she shouted. "Leave no one behind."

Taelanas pulled his charger to the side of the road and waited as they galloped away. They knew speed was of the essence even though the mounts would be winded if they pushed much faster. When nearly half the troops had passed, Taelanas spurred his charger back to the lead.

An arrow whistled past her head and Gentyl wheeled her mount around. "Damned hunter. I don't have time to deal with him now." She struck spurs and raced after the troops thundering down the road.

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Faithe caught the slight movement behind the bushes from the corner of her eye. she turned to Lahkin who was pretending to be fascinated by the herbs Turrick had recently replanted in his curiously precise circles. The circles made sense to him and wanted all the herbs separated by species, but some really did do better when they were intermingled. Marigolds, for instance kept nematodes out of the soil so she had planted them liberally amongst other plants prone to nematode damage. Now, however, she had clean neat rows of vegetables without a single noxious marigold interrupting their perfect lines. She also had a massive plot of marigolds around an old oak tree. Well, at least the tree was safe.

"Lahkin, are there some druids or rogues practicing stealth maneuvers nearby?"

The young paladin looked up. "No, ma'am. Desmend has them down by the river today."

She backed slowly away from the bush toward him. He glanced at her face and looked toward the bush. With weapon drawn, he advanced on the bush and laughed when a rabbit hopped away. "Nothing to be afraid of, ma'am. It was just a rabbit hiding."

He started to step away from the bush and cocked his head curiously and then plucked something out of the bush. "Faithe, you dropped one of your letters. It got stuck in the bush."

She backed farther from the bush and held out her hand reluctantly for the letter he extended toward her. Her hand trembled as she broke the seal. She had no unread letters.

Dove,

Your efforts to find me have been amusing. I'm sure you miss me as much as I miss you. However, I'm a busy man and I grow annoyed at the games. Return now where you belong and I will forgive you for running away. We'll pretend those nasty people stole you from me.

You know you don't want to make me angry.

Love,

M

The last thing she saw as she crumpled was Lahkin's surprised face when he dashed to catch her.

Foxria made her way into the new tower her prize box securely under her arm. She traveled light these days, as travel had become her life. Searching the place through she found the perfect tucked away corner in the top rafters. Housing her prize box was important, for where it lay was her always home. Convinced of the box's secure place she climbed her way down and out into the city of Hearthglen. This was indeed a good place. Reclaimed, repurposed from the ash of the scourge wars. Foxria smiled, then someone caught her attention off to the side. It was Faithe in the flowers again.

Much had changed during the long period Foxria was abroad. Much of it filled with sadness. Faithe was not fully home yet. Where once there had been a light surrounding her, now hung a cloud of familiar grayness. Familiar to Foxria, having suffered at the hands of cruel capture not so many years ago. She knew Gentyl was out to take care of this how Gentyl knew best. So would Foxria. Evil never sleeps, it only waits. Someone had to brave the dark corners of adventure. While Gentyl set out to find the one responsible for Faithe, Foxria would set out to uncover the darkness that had set it in motion. The world was cursed true as cogs, but Foxria was never afraid to venture in the dark and see that her family, Pia, could safely sleep without fear. That is what she would give to her sister Faithe, safety again. Foxria set off for Durotar and the city of Ogrimar. There was something of Faithes she could find, her furry bundle of security. Faithes living prize box.

Gruzzexl had not been to Bilgewater Harbor -- nor even Kalimdor -- for some time. He knew, however, that he would need to stop by every once in a while. Gallywix would know where the cartel's business ventures took them, and since this warlock had not cut ties with the cartel since his latest, most profitable bargain... he needed to show up some of the time.

This time, of course, there was more at stake. The need for more allies -- more who could spread destruction so willingly for their own goals and yet serve the needs of the Void at the same time -- was ever present.

There was a goblin here who had earned the wrath of the Light -- and, thus, caught the attention of the Void. There had been so little death associated with him, but that.... well, he could be encouraged. Encouragement had always been one of Gruzzexl's strongest suits.

Now to just find the little green skinned monster.

"Take care of the Guard. I have business to attend to."

It was a simple note that Finnaeus found in his robes, left by the enigmatic Desmend. Finnaeus threw the letter into a fire, but a cold hand gripped his heart. How could he do what Desmend did, and do it as well?

***

It seemed a simple mission at first. Find Meshqa, the goblin that abducted and tortured Faithe. It was a mission Finnaeus took up willingly, after meeting Faithe, and he dove into it wholeheartedly. It meant a lot quiet nights, solitude in strange locations, and it gave his mind a reprieve from obsessing over the golden locket that hung from his pocket, the locket that his father gave him. His brother was out there, somewhere, with a missing locket, but that search had to wait. He needed to prove himself worth to the Pia, prove that he belonged. And maybe, by finding Meshqa, he'd prove to himself he could track down his brother once he set his mind to it.

The mission, however, proved far more complicated. Goblins planted false trails, demanded steep prices for even the smallest piece of information; Finnaeus underestimated how crafty and beguiling the little monsters were. He managed to find one goblin in particular in Booty Bay, Jorbo, who was convinced that Meshqa owed him money and would therefore turn Meshqa over to Finnaeus. But the leads the goblin provided were old and stale - Jorbo sent Finnaeus on wild goose chases, into Stonetalon, Desolace, even as far north as Warsong Hold in Northrend, all proving empty and without any information. The Pia had near captures in Grom'Gol and Ashenvale, but Mesqa still alluded him. And yet Finnaeus continued to pour money and resources into bribing the goblins into yielding more information. Fruitless endeavors, all, and they were putting lives at risk.

Every day wore on Finnaeus, eroding his patience. He sometimes didn't recognize himself in the mirror, he looked so tired. And yet Meshqa had wedged himself firmly in his brain, unwilling to remove himself. Finn wondered what his mentor Desmend would do. As if on command, Desmend's voice filled his mind:

"The only one you can trust is yourself."

The thought energized him. He was letting Jorbo yank his strings, and that had to end. Finnaeus stepped off of the roof of Mardenholde Keep and twisted into a crow. He would head to Booty Bay, and start dictating the terms of negotiation.

Grindell had a problem. He needed to enter Ogrimar and retrieve some important notes. Those notes had been left in his haste to avoid his hounding creditors. Without those notes his success in perfecting Essence would not progress. So far he had only managed to create a temporary transmogrifying stone. That had brought him closer to an alchemical device of grand design. He needed a someone to help him in obtaining said notes. Then it was the fate, one of the good ones, happened by. It was in the form of a shimmer making its way in the direction of Ogrimar. Shimmer usually meant rogue. A rogue that was making its way into Ogrimar would mean some one else having to sneak about. Grindell leapt into action to get the attention of the shimmer.

" Oh what a fate to have fall on poor retch such as I" Grindell said. " Here I have the most important transmogrifying device known in all of Azeroth and no one to buy it from me" he added, pity high in his voice. The shimmer stopped.

" By the cog of creation, I understood that!" Came a voice from the shimmer, a gnome voice.

" Ah yes, my own device that translates voice sounds, guaranteed to be 35% proficient in all cases." Grindell said. " Say, is there a ghost about" Grindell said making a left and right dramatic movement. Best to play along to pull in this rogue.

A giggle issued forth " No silly it is just me, not a ghost" the shimmer said and then appeared as a female gnome. Impressive in her dusky leather garb, in a style Grindell was not familiar with. Grindell could not help but be taken aback. Then he bowed.

" A pleasure to meet you Ms Gnome." Grindell said." Perhaps you would be interested in my most amazing stone to help you along your journeys. Especially created for such occasions, as the entering of hostile places."

" Like the trinkets that allow you to change into Ogres?" The gnome said.

" Better. It is alchemical and not detectable as magic. You would become, temporary like, another person." Grindell said. He sensed that this little gnome would buy his prototype. A perfect chance to field test his essence stone. " If for instance you head into the city yonder," Grindell pointed back at Ogrimar " you could enter as an Sin'Dori elf. Just so happens I have the perfect persona for yay's."

" It would make it easier to find the Faithe cat." the Gnome said. " What is the cost of such a thing?"

" Just a small favor" Grindell grinned as the deal was nearly done. " You can freely search for your Faithe cat and then, as a little side trip retrieve some papers for me."

Grindell waited watching the Gnome consider his pitch. She then nodded at Grindell. " Okay I will take it."

Grindell ran her through the whole procedure. He used his only stone and the essence of a Blood Elf who had, for a bit of gold, volunteered in the creation of the essence. It worked perfect. The gnome changed into the blood elf rogue with just a bit of pain. The new persona was complete and she, who now was a he, stood before Grindell. The two exchanged information on Grindell's papers and both agreed to meet at the same spot in two days. Grindell only hoped that his stone would last that long. it had a 56% chance to do so.