World of Warcraft®

From the air he spotted two orcs guiding a young girl towards the forests of Ashenvale. Finnaeus swooped lower to get a better look. They made their way cautiously – understandable given that the Night Elves kept constant patrols in the area and were incredibly adept at staying unseen. Finnaeus landed in a tree, shifted into his cat form, and watched as the two orcs dragged the girl into the Ashenvale forests. The girl did not cry, did not protest. Finn wondered why she was remaining quiet. If she knew the area she was in, she could scream out for help and maybe alert the Night Elves to their presence. Instead she kept her head down, her eyes staring at the ground.

“Keep up,” one of the orcs snarled at her in Common. “Who knows if those filthy elves will see us here.”

“I hate this place,” the other orc said, staring around. “Creepy.”

Finnaeus moved between the densely packed trees, keeping an eye on his prey.

“You heard what he said,” the first orc said. “Get rid of her far away.”

“Think this is far enough?” the second orc asked. Silence fell after the question. Finnaeus bent lower, his head obscured by the foliage. The first orc let go of the rope that held the girl. Finnaeus wanted to yell to her to run. The girl stayed still, staring at the ground.

“Why isn’t she running?” the second orc asked, unsheathing a dagger.

“Who cares, just get rid of her,” the first orc said.

Finnaeus leapt from the tree with a roar. He landed on the orc, his claws raking across the orc’s shoulders and chest as their bodies crashed to the ground. In the next instant Finnaeus wrapped his jaws around the orc’s neck and twisted. The horrible crunch of bones and sinew, blood spilling into his mouth and onto the ground, and the orc went limp. Finnaeus turned his head up to the second orc and saw that he had buried the dagger deep into the girl’s side. The orc twisted the dagger, and then turned to run.

Finnaeus shifted into his worgen form and twisted his hands, chanting. Roots sprung out of the earth and tangled the orc’s feet. The orc hacked at the roots with his axe, but in the next second Finnaeus was right behind him, back in his cat form. He swiped out, lacerating the orc’s ankles and slicing his tendons. The orc squealed and fell to the ground, unable to stand. Finnaeus pounced on the orc’s back, slashing away at the orc’s flesh. The sounds of him screaming did not sway him, did not cause him pity. The blood flowed over his paws and into Ashenvale’s earth, and the orc could not move, pinned underneath Finn’s weight. The orc croaked, desperately trying to get free. Finn roared, his jaws around the orc’s neck. He bit down, just enough to crush the orc’s windpipe. He twisted into his human form, running over to the girl who lay on the ground, the crude knife still sticking from her side. He removed the blade, blood spilling from her wound. She sighed.

Finnaeus chanted, his hands swirling green. The wound did not respond, would not close. For a wild moment he thought that the blade must have been poisoned, but then he saw the girl’s eyes. She was alive in the sense that her body was alive, but there was a cold detachment in them. Her gaze met his, and it felt as if a horrible rock tied to his heart and pulled it down. Her wound would not close because she did not want it to. She would not respond to his healing, just as she would not flee her captors.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” Finnaeus whispered.

“I died a long time ago,” the girl whispered back. She reached up and pulled her necklace from her neck. “Take this…to the…Harlowe family…Westfall. They’ll want…to know.”

“What shall I tell them?” Finnaeus asked, grief and guilt threatening to swallow him whole.

“That I now know peace,” she said. “And that I did not die alone.”

He kept his eyes locked with hers, his hand clasping her hand. He could see Faithe in her eyes, her countenance. As he watched her, another woman dying at the end of a blade, images of his wife Claire and his daughter Lydia, both dying a similar death, and he did not know if he could contain it. He could not turn into a worgen in front of this girl, could not scare her in her last moments. His body shook with the pain, the tension, resisting the urge to turn.

“I’m sorry,” Finnaeus whispered again, the images of his wife and daughter still fresh in his mind. “I wish I could have saved you.”

But the girl never heard the last part.

He squared his shoulders against the rain. Soon he would speak with Faithe, get Meshqa’s description so he knew what to look for. He would again be sneaking through the streets of Bilgewater, looking for the monster that destroyed yet another life. But first, he would tell the girl’s family. The knowledge would not bring comfort or joy. But maybe it would bring them some finality for their missing daughter or wife. He knew so little about her.

Faithe waited inside the door of he Blue Recluse for her eyes to adjust to the dark. A few voices drifted out to her, but it was mostly quiet. She moved around the corner, touching the wall as she went. This momentary blindness was the perfect time to attack or kidnap someone, she thought reluctantly and hoped a patron would help her if...she shook the thought out of her head. No one was waiting for her.

That wasn't quite true she realized as her vision returned. Finneaus was sitting at the table nearest Joachim and waved at her. She walked toward him, inhaling the tavern's scents. Roast beef, ale, whiskey, sweat, leather, apple pie, and wet fur. Wet fur? She sniffed the air again. Wet fur.

It was no accident Finn was here. He was always precisely where he intended to be. Gentyl had probably told him she would be by to pay Charitye's bill. How that very feral druid managed to "hunt" so many roasts and fish was beyond her. The cat must have a bottomless pit for a stomach.

"Hello, Finn," she said when she got to the counter. My stars and garters. Thirteen gold worth of roasts and fish. She sighed and paid the bill, then turned to Finn. "Would you like something to drink?"

"No, thank you. I already have something."

She ordered a cup of tea and sat down at the table with him. "Are you waiting for someone?"

He nodded. "I needed to talk to you. Sepha said you would be here."

Turrick padded over from the shadows in the corner and laid his head in her lap, chuffing lightly at her. She reached down to stroke his head. "You know he sent me another note."

Turrick blinked. "Who sent note?"

Finnaeus leaned forward with interest. "And this note said? If I may ask."

Faithe stopped stroking Turrick. "The goblin." She turned to Finn and repeated the message. "Dove, I miss you and want you to come home. I'll be waiting. Love, M."

Turrick blinked again. "Oh. Is in love with goblin?"

Faithe blanched. "No, I don't love him."

"Quite the opposite, Turrick," Finnaeus said.

Turrick frowned at her expression. "Goblin... is bad? Hates goblin?"

Finnaeus took a sip from his glass and set it down a bit harder than usual. "Very."
"He's very bad," Faithe said and resumed stroking the worgen.

Turrick frowned at her. "Can bite?"

"If you can find him you can bite him." She smiled softly at the simple approach Turrick had to evil.

Finnaeus looked apprehensively at Faithe. "I had a few questions, if you wouldn't mind answering them. I know it must be difficult for you."

Faithe stared down into her tea, dreading the questions she knew he had to ask. "Yes, sir," she replied at last.

Turrick looked up into her face and then set his large head in Faithe's lap, huffing at her unhappiness.

She reached down and stroked Turrick's head fondly.

Finnaeus poured her another cup of tea. "I think we may have his location - I won't say aloud for fear of being overheard. But since we are closing in, I'll need to get a better idea of what he looks like, how he acts. I need to know what he did."

Turrick nuzzled her as lightly as he could, clearly attempting to be helpful.

Finnaeus cleared his throat. "Mannerisms, habits, things like that."

Turrick lifted his head. "Is goblin, so is small and green."

Finnaeus smiled at the other worgen. "I know. Anything to distinguish him from the other goblins."

Turrick quieted and laid his head back down in Faithe's lap.

Finnaeus smiled and then turned back to Faithe.

She nodded. "Green, of course, a rather light green."

Finnaeus nodded and made some notes. "Any scars? Tattoos?"

"Yes, he has scars. He has blue eyes and wears gold earrings. Three in each ear. There's a scar on his left cheek, his right hand and his left shoulder." She motioned to her shoulder and drew a line about six inches long across it."

"Very distinctive then," Finnaeus said.
"Yes," she replied. "He dresses very well. He always wears business clothes, when he's dressed, and he never travels alone."

Finnaeus frowned. "Never alone...that's to say, he has bodyguards?"

She nodded once. "Several, and he rewards them well. You can't get close to him."

Turrick attempted to surreptitiously rub his jaw on Faithe to mark her. It was difficult and unsuccessful... as he's rather large and clumsy. "Can. Is just hard!"

Finnaeus made more notes. "I'll keep that in mind - even with Avier and Murrick we may not want to attempt an assassination. Perhaps then we should make sure we have our target's location and then move a group of the Pia and allies to take him."

"Pack hunt," Turrick exclaimed. "Works best."

"Indeed," agreed Finnaeus.

"If still had brothers in Silverpine, would get, but has not seen past times when there."

"That would be best," replied Faithe. "Guards who fail him are tortured to death. Men who are particularly good are rewarded with gold and women."

Finnaeus narrowed his eyes.

Faithe inhaled deeply. "Yes. Women who displease him or aren't good enough to make his houses are given to the men as rewards. Their...affinity for torture is matched only by Meshqa's"

Turrick continued trying to mark Faithe quietly so she wouldn't notice.

"Unfortunately," Finnaeus said, "that's how we caught our break. He has a 'package' coming to him. I'm assuming it's another woman. I need to know what he did to you. We need to know his habits."

Faithe slumped and sighed.

"Shouldn't ask about; is making unhappy." Turrick turned his yellow eyes on Finnaeus.

Finnaeus sighed. "I know - I know this is tough. But we're very close. I don't want to risk losing him if we're not careful."

"No, please don't lose him." Faithe let out a ragged sigh. "Meshqa bought me from Rua. He has agents who look for suitable women. Young, attractive...innocent fetch the highest prices. Rua heard of his needs and sold me at a private auction.

"I insulted him...Meshqa, after our first encounter. He had some of his men beat me for sport and then-- I was still not suitably repentant so he had me put in an alley and starved down to break my spirit. I was brought back to the mansion occasionally, cleaned up and we were reacquainted. When I refused to show him proper respect, he turned me to his men again to adjust my attitude. If the injuries were very bad, he reluctantly paid for a healer to keep me alive. That's his pattern."

Finnaeus kept his head down as he made more notes. " Thank you Faithe, for your courage. Your information will be an immeasurable asset. That will help. Perhaps we can find out what healer he uses? As soon as I can rally Avier and Murek, we'll move to scout. If we confirm what I suspect, then we can perhaps make a move to take him."

"I don't know how much that will help you."

"Neither do I, my dear. Neither do I. I'm confident we're on to something. If it doesn't pan out, we'll simply move to the next lead." He turned to look at Turrick. "You know Turrick, someday I'd like to work with you."

Turrick lifted his head. "How? Was not sneakiest of brothers in Silverpine. Wasn't strongest either."

"Neither are important so long as you're able to learn."

Turrick considered that. "Learn what?"

"I think I could teach you to...enhance your potential. So that when we run on missions, you can join us. Like a pack. I can learn from you just as much as you can learn from me."

Turrick huffed skeptically. "Is not very in tune with feral part."

"Perhaps we can discuss later, once I ferret out this goblin."

Turrick gave Faithe one last nuzzle, and hauled himself to his paws, shaking dust from his heavily scarred frame. "Can."

"Excellent. Safe travels, my friend."

Turrick trundled out, scritching his crooked muzzle.

"I must go as well. I need to do some prep work in advance of the mission. Thank you again for your information. We'll find him, and we'll end him. It's the only end that I'll accept."

"Thank you. I pray you do...I pray daily."
Finnaeus patted her hand. "Good evening, and stay safe. I'll have my hearthstone should you need anything."

The sea air drifted up to Gentyl where she sat on a hill overlooking the harbor. It was clear and crisp like an autumn morning. She closed her eyes and inhaled. It was time to go back to sea. Maybe on the Commander's next voyage, or at least the first voyage after Meshqa was captured. At the rate they were going, she might be too old for a vacation.

A soft breeze ruffled her unbound hair and soothed her mind. Her shoulders drooped as she relaxed, but her brows soon knitted in concern. It was as if someone were brushing her hair and stroking it with a child-like hand. What sorcery was this? The sensation faded as a sailor below shouted. "Sail ho!"

She took out the spyglass and scanned the horizon. It came from the west, the direction the Mary Celeste would be arriving from.

Traveler trotted down the hill taking her closer to the dock and the approaching ship. She tied him to a nearby post and strode down the dock. The Commander barked orders to the sailors then looked down toward her and winked. He bounded down the gangplank and swooped her up in his arms, swinging her around and kissing her. "Hello, mi'lady."

"Commander. Good to have you home."

"Good to be home. What news? Any hordelings about?"

She laughed and untied Traveler. They walked together toward town. "I thought you might want to rest before hunting horde."

"Bah. I can rest when I'm dead. No better time to hunt. I owe Treecaller a tap or two."

"We're still hunting Meshqa."

"Any closer to him?'

She paused and let Traveler grab a bit of grass from the roadside. "Finn found him."

He reached over and ran his fingers through the horse's mane. "You plan to attack?"

"Yes, we're gathering allies. Speaking of allies, Rinhold has joined Pia."

He stopped stroking the horse. "Really? That surprises me. He was always happy in the Bloody Tenth."

"He wouldn't tell me exactly why. I pressed him a bit and he just said the imp was insane."

"The imp's always been insane. It must be serious if it's gotten bad enough for the mad paladin to notice."

"Tenwit was hunting Meshqa. What if his insanity turns him against us? What if he decides to help the goblin?"

"He's crazy, but he won't do anything to hurt the Alliance." He paused and looked around. "I should have shoved him in a hole when I had a chance."

It was him.

Finnaeus crouched low, obscured behind a stack of cartons in Bilgewater Harbor. The air reeked of oil and smog, and the entire city had the slapdash look of haphazard action and bustling chaos. Sneaking around proved entirely too easy – the goblins were too busy counting their money and their products to notice him. But he found a good hiding spot, hoping to catch a mention of his name on the air, or a crate labeled with his name.

He could not have imagined his luck when he saw a line of girls, each one similar to Faithe in varying degrees, lined up by a crew of goblins. And there, flanked by elite guards, was Meshqa himself.

Finnaeus knew he had found Meshqa’s location prior to seeing him – the girls that came in and out all but confirmed it – but it was a relief to finally get a visual confirmation. Faithe had described him perfectly – he had the scar on his left cheek, the golden earrings. His professional attire and demeanor granted him an air of authority and, despite his small stature, intimidation. He surveyed the girls with a look of one turning over a diamonds for imperfections.

He walked down the line, examining the girls, lifting an arm here and there, poking at the girl’s stomachs and thighs. After every girl he would exchange a few words with the fellow goblins, but they spoke in their native tongue. The smug laughter and cold expressions on their face told him they were judging the girls like cattle. After Meshqa reached the end of the line, he took a good look at the girls, and then spat on the ground.

“You all weren’t worth the money to take here,” Meshqa announced in Common. “My colleagues need to search elsewhere than the gutters of Westfall it seems.”

He spat on the ground again, and then turned to one of his goblin associates. He uttered a couple of harsh words, and then threw a few pieces of gold at him. Meshqa watched in disgust as his fellow goblins scrabbled along the ground to pick them up.

“As if you all could take the place of my Dove,” Meshqa hissed. “One does not replace gold with fool’s gold, and these lumps of useless flesh are not worth my money.”

Meshqa barked a few orders to the goblins, and they marched the girls away. Finnaeus watched the goblin, wondering if he could strike now and end him. But there were too many eyes, too many guards, and if he missed his mark he would ruin it all.

He would stick to the plan. Avier and Murek were guarding the Orgrimmar entrance in Azshara, making sure Meshqa couldn’t slip into the city. Finn would keep his daily tab on Bilgwater. And he trusted in Sepha, and the Presidium, to draw up enough support to strike against the Harbor and take the goblin once and for all. His claws itched to draw the goblin’s blood, but he would have to wait and rest on his patience.

The well of patience, however, was running dry.

" it was a Wolfman I tell's ya" The Goblin said without hesitation. " Done banged and scratched me up's, just like ye see's" He said.

The Blood Elf nodded. He had come here to follow up. Not so long ago he had heard the exchange between the Goblin and the Worgen. He had spied on the pair, such opportunities not one to be passed up. The Worgen wore the colors of the Holy Guard. The exchange had been heated and that was when the Blood Elf rogue knew an opportunity was presented.

" This 'Wolfman' then wrestled out the information he was seeking, and threatened you with death, if it was not correct?" The Blood Elf said, in his most detective like tone. He had presented himself as an investigator.

"Yeah, left my place and me in one sorry costly state too, as ya can see." The Goblin said. He was laid up in bed, bandaged across midriff. No doubt collecting some of that Goblin insurance.

The Blood Elf nodded in sympathy, then with lighting quickness plunged a throwing dagger into the Goblin's throat. The Goblin held his look of shock for mere seconds then died, gurgling blood from the dagger wound. The payoff for this opportunity was at this moment. He knew that this assassination was going to go a long ways. Meshqa, this Goblin boss, would be most interested in knowing he had been uncovered. The Holy Guard would know they had been watched, and create paranoia. The most important though, of all of this, was in his next action. From out of his over-shoulder satchel the Blood Elf took out a small squire piece of paper, setting it on the dead Goblins chest. No writing was on it, just a black hand print. Signature of the Black Hand Society.

It had certainly been a while since the Ocheliad and the Presidium were on the same side of a conflict.

Cyrus had been burned about Faithe's abduction ever since she was taken while under his protection. The orc responsible, Rua, was a nomadic orc with the loyalty of many. Meaning the only reliable source of information was the goblin the Presidium was after. To ensure they were successful, Ocheliad forces had been lended.

Unlike the Presidium, Cyrus was willing to order the more "socially unacceptable" methods of securing information and ensuring that nobody tried to get wise and interfere.

He'd sent a letter to Sathrasa and Haelolin, two other Ocheliad, which read:

Get to Azshara. If it looks like the target is on to us, or tries to flee, take him down. I want air-tight containment on him until the attack. Dispose of anyone who spots you, or tries to interfere. Anyone.

- Captain Sagewind

((This post occurred some time ago, before the most recent developments in this thread, and a number of things have happened to its characters since then. It has taken me a while to sift through two different chat logs, and life snuck up on me. I hope to pick up where I left off and move forward with this. Sorry for the interruption.))

---

"Greatmother, what do you know about cats?"

Many were gathered at the longhouse that afternoon. Perhaps it was the merciless heat of the sun, radiating off the Barrens grasses, that drew them together. Auraha sat next to Nesh on a long bench, a tiny white kitten at her hooves. Greatmother Poni was sitting up in a hammock near the wall; Andaendis stood nearby, his arms crossed against his chest. Keedriel sat with his back against a wall next to Zal, and Sabilnar watched the others from the top of a sturdy crate.

Andaendis arched an eyebrow at Auraha's question and pointed at a tiny raptor hatchling napping at Poni's feet. "I think she's a raptor person, not a cat person."

"Ask an Amani. I think they have a thing for cats," Sabilnar chimed in.

The search for the kitten's owner had, so far, yielded no results. Taking the kitten to Da Doctas' Clinic had yielded good advice on how to care for the tiny animal, but no one seemed to know where such a kitten would come from.

Poni pondered a moment, looking at Auraha thoughtfully. "I mostly keep raptors, including a few dat I ride. But I have a few cats. My daughter loves dem."

Andaendis casually leaned his shoulders against the wall of the longhouse. "There's cats all over Silvermoon…what did you want to know?"

"I found this kitten in Orgrimmar. I'm not sure what to do with it." Auraha looked down at the scruffy little kitten, watching it bat at her tail. Gently, she picked up the tiny creature and rubbed between its ears with one finger. She noticed, with a smile, that the condition of the pads on the kitten's feet had greatly improved with the use of Llejna's "goopy salve."

"Keep it if it likes you."

"But, 'tis having a collar." Raising a bony finger, Nesh pointed off to the right of the kitten. He blinked, rubbing at the wrappings covering his new eyes. Auraha wondered how Nesh would adapt once he was able to see the world as she saw it.

"Someone may be missing it dearly. If I can…I'd like to find out and return it."

Poni studied the kitten, shifting in her hammock. "If it has a collar, den it is not ours to keep. Is dere a tag?"

Auraha rose, carefully holding the kitten in her hand, and gave it to Poni. Poni blinked in surprise for a moment, then broke into a warm smile and cradled it softly in her arms. There is someone out there who loves this animal as much as Greatmother Poni loves her own pets, she thought.

Andaendis sighed. "If there's a tag, then yeah, you might want to return it to the owner. If not, keep it until someone claims it. Most of the cats in Silvermoon are strays." Poni frowned at Andaendis, scratching the tiny kitten under the chin. "Do dey wear collars, Andy?" She traced a finger along the edge of the collar, looking for a tag. "Nope. They're strays." Andaendis smirked.

Poni looked up at Auraha with curiosity. "Where did you find it, Sunchaser? …I think it likes me." She smiled brightly. Andaendis reached over and scratched the kitten between the ears.

"I was walking along the Drag a few mornings ago. It ran into me…or, climbed me." Puncture marks on her left leg still itched from where tiny claws had dug into her skin. Conscious of the sensation, she scratched lightly at the wounds with her large fingers. Poni stroked the kitten's back idly and lightly touched one of its ears, causing it to flick wildly. "What do you mean, it climbed you?"

Auraha chuckled. "One of the merchants was chasing it, screaming something about fish between all the obscenities. I guess it went for the first tall thing it saw." Watching the kitten, she added, "It seemed hungry. Probably just looking for something to eat."

"I have always fed my cats de leftover meat from my hunts, but I have never been a fisherman." The kitten stretched and rested its chin on the crook of Poni's arm. "It is awfully thin. If it is a pet, it has been lost in de city a while." Despite its thinness, the kitten was improving every day. The cracked pads of its feet were mending, and its fur seemed healthier already. The diet that Llejna had suggested was doing wonders for its health.

"I don't know what cats eat." Andaendis conjured an orb of fire and skillfully manipulated the tongues of flame so that they danced over his shoulders.

"Cats eat fishes and meats, and milk." Nesh blinked, sniffing the air. "'tis fire? Please don't set the longhouse on fire."

Andaendis laughed. "You don't have to worry about that." He leaned against the wall, showing his control over the flames. "I say keep it. It does look neglected."

Sabilnar looked at Andaendis with a curious glint in his eyes. "Pfft…what is that, fake fire? Go set the stables on fire so those orc workers have a reason to be here." He reached a hand towards the fire, immediately snatching it back. "…ow, ow, ow, ow, ow….yep, it's hot…"

Watching the two of them, Auraha couldn't help but to laugh. "I want to at least try to find out who it belongs to. Have you ever seen one like it, Greatmother?"

Poni looked at the cat, entranced. "I…cannot keep a pet dat is not mine. If I were to lose my hatchlings…" She trailed off, turning to look at Andaendis and Sabilnar, who had somehow managed to magically disguise themselves as trolls. Auraha stared, unsure of what to think.

"De…tusks make it hard te talk. Dey are heavy - I don' like it."

Sabilnar laughed. "I know, righ'? No wonder Carn's such an !@#. Hav'n to put up with dis all day would make me sore too…you female trolls have it easy compared to da males. Itty bitty tusks."

Poni glowered at the two of them. "Insult my husband again and I will train dis cat to claw your faces off." She held up the kitten, but it hardly seemed menacing as it tried to squirm its way out of her hands and into her lap. She grinned, then turned her attention back to Auraha. "My sister traveled to de east and brought me a kitten like dis. I have never seen anything like it before or since."

"The east? Do you think that it belongs to someone living in Orgrimmar?"

Nesh fidgeted restlessly. "If 'tis belonging to someone in Orgrimmar, why 'tis lost?"

Andaendis looked at Nesh. "You ever seen an orc wit' a cat?" Nesh rubbed his eyes. "Oh…dat's right. You can't see. Orcs don't keep cats as pets." Nesh shrugged.

Poni shook her head, making a point of ignoring the two "trolls." "My sister traveled farther east den dat. Across de sea." She giggled and scratched the kitten's stomach. "Dis one does not seem afraid of me."

Across the sea? How far will this kitten take me? Auraha wondered.

Andaendis sighed. "Dis is hardly what I call comfortable." Dispelling the magical transformation, he climbed up into the hammock to sit next to Poni.

Poni thought in silence for a moment. "Where to start looking…Sunchaser, where did you say you found de kitten…de Drag? Maybe one of de shopkeepers own it."

Nesh spoke up. "Per'aps ask? But why 'twould be lost, if shopkeepers 'tis having?"

Andaendis sighed. "I still say that you keep it." Poni reached out a finger toward Andaendis' phoenix. "And if you lost dis?" He frowned, but said nothing. Auraha looked at the bird thoughtfully, watching the beautiful shifting golds and crimsons of its feathers of living fire. She shook her head slowly, the string of small gems hanging from her horn catching the light of the fire and scattering it across the longhouse walls.

"I might end up keeping it, Andy. But I have a feeling someone may be looking for it, and I will try, if nothing else, to find that person."

"Well…there's nothing wrong with that. If you can't find the rightful owner -"

"D-Damn it Roharu! D-Don't you- GAH!" A loud crash was heard from outside. "C-Can you pay a-attention to w-whoever's riding you for once?!"

Poni smiled brightly, sitting up in her hammock to peer out the door of the longhouse. "That sounds like Nynra."

The arrival also brought a smile to Auraha's face. Nynra was a rarity among her kind; never before had she met a Forsaken so devoted to a faith from which so many had turned away. In the eyes of most Forsaken, the light had abandoned them to a fate worse than death. It was understandable, yet regrettable - what felt like pleasant warmth from a ray of sun to Auraha was a cauterizing burn to a Forsaken. Only the strongest of will continued their devotion. Though Auraha had only recently begun to follow the light of An'she, she felt an immediate connection with Nynra built on respect and understanding.

Nynra nodded at the gathering of people as she stepped through the opening into the longhouse. "A-Afternoon."

Andaendis looked up at Nynra. "Nice staff. What have you been up to, Nynra?"

Nynra bowed before Poni. "G-Good afternoon, Poni. A-And thank you, A-Andy. I've been h-hunting, wandering as of late, catching s-stragglers of Mialera's order."

"How do you find dem?"

"Odd t-thing…they're still organized. T-They haven't lost themselves t-to full hunger yet. W-Worries me. A-And I find them the same way Andy does; s-senses. There's v-various ways, but anyone can detect a large amount of l-life in one body. I-It's unnatural, stands out."

Poni beckoned Nynra over. "Perhaps you can help find something else."

"O-Oh?" Poni showed Nynra the tiny kitten in her arms. Nynra looked at the kitten curiously, then back to Poni. "I-I thought you were more of a raptor t-troll."

"Dis kitten found Sunchaser in de Drag a few days ago."

"Y-You assume it's a-abandoned? I-I suppose I could try to find out who owned it p-previously."

Poni brushed some of the kitten's fur aside to show its collar. "It definitely belongs to someone." Nynra looked over the kitten carefully, pausing to examine the collar for any identifying markers. It was a light blue, sturdy yet unremarkable. Thus far, it hadn't provided any insight on where to look next.

"I-It wouldn't be safe to s-search its thoughts. P-People are one thing, but beasts can be s-something else entirely."

"Kitten 'tis white…yes? White cats are rare in the wild. 'tis poor camouflage. But, since white 'tis rare, 'tis rare for pets too. If the cat 'tis rare, 'would only be owned by people with much money, yes?" Nesh nodded at Nynra.

"I-I can really only think of one other person t-that would have a white cat, but if it's her, that cat's been lost for q-quite a while."

Keedriel spoke up from a corner of the room. "Nynra, you're a doctor, right? Can you take a look at my right leg? I think it may be broken."

"O-Of course." Nynra knelt beside Keedriel, setting her staff aside and leaving the kitten to Poni's attention. Auraha watched as Nynra began to work, interested. Despite extensive training with the other Sunwalkers and Seers, she was having limited success with healing. Before walking the path of the sun, she had been a warrior. She had always been more suited to battle, and learning to turn the focus inward, to the warmth that provided life and growth, was a challenge. Nynra examined Keedriel's leg with observant eyes, hands hovering gently over it. She gently gripped Keedriel's ankle and moved her hand just under his leg near the knee. She frowned nodding slowly. "Not b-broken, but it's definitely w-weakened."

"Where did you see a cat like dis, Nynra?"

"T-The only time I remember seeing it, Poni, is when the Ishnu-Por-Ah captured t-the priestess girl, Faithe."

"Faithe?"

Nynra nodded. "Y-Yes, the one they sold to that goblin b-bordello. I-It was some human girl they found wandering near t-the Great Wall."

Sunchaser blinked, clearly surprised. "I had not heard of this."

"I-It was quite a few months ago." She slowly unwrapped Keedriel's leg splint, free hand searching for her book of prayers. "I-I'll see what I can do, K-Kee."

"Thanks, Nynra."

"If the kitten is even hers, how would we find her now?"

"W-We'd have to arrange passage to S-Stormwind. Or a-ask the AAMS. W-when she was found, the Ishnu captured her for a while, before someone mistook her for a slave girl and sold her to a !@#$% house in t-the Cleft of Shadow, w-which was promptly stormed by an Alliance s-stealth force." Nynra opened her book of prayers and bowed her head, gently resting a hand on Keedriel's injured leg. She spoke in a low monotone, praying for the injured elf, and her hand began to glow a soft gold.

Poni shuddered and frowned disapprovingly. "No one deserves dat fate. No one. Who-did-it?" She spoke as if each word left a horrible taste in her mouth.

"I-It's rather common, despite the fact that people don't deserve to have it h-happen to them. B-Booty Bay and Gadgetzan are prime e-examples. R-Ratchet has done it occasionally as well, though it's a-all discreet." Nynra pulled away from Keedriel's leg, finishing her prayers and wrapping her fingers around her staff. "I-It'll still be sore, but the damage is r-repaired at least. J-Just don't r-run with it." Keedriel nodded. "I'll try not to."

Auraha sighed. Whatever she had been expecting, it wasn't this. "We don't know that the cat belongs to this human, or where she is now. We should exhaust our local options first, gather more information. I can't just wander into the city of the humans with a cat in hand, expecting them to know why I'm there."

Andaendis shook his head. "Why all this fuss over a cat? If someone comes looking for it, yeah, give it back. Until then, it's yours."

She smiled. "I just feel like it's the right thing to do."

Nesh nodded. "'tis a hard thing, missing a pet."

"They'll come looking for it, Nesh. People are like that."

"But what if can't, or given up?"

Sunchaser looked around at all gathered in the longhouse, her family. Her family, not of blood but of numberless bonds, weaved together to form a mesh stronger than the strongest metal. They came from all walks of life and still stood together. While she always had her tribe to return to, she had found a special solace here with Homeland. She had wandered alone for many years, walking the path of a wounded warrior filled with anger. In some ways, she had felt like the kitten, so far from home, until she had found a place here, under the hot Barrens sun.

She rose slowly, her silhouette casting a long shadow against the wall in the fading sunlight of the afternoon. Gently, she scooped up the kitten and placed it in Nesh's hands. He held it for a moment, unsure of what to do with it, and then began to stroke it gently with his fingers.

"Even if no one is looking, I will find out what happened to the owner. I must."

((Wow, awesome addition, Sunny.))

Her hips swayed gently with the forward motion of her steed as Devil's Tail trodded a muddy trail across the disturbed river. The adjusting of a slippery leather reins and a plated gauntlet accompanied the dull thud of hooves as her horse walked. Azshara was ahead in the falling and shifting mist of a recently deceased rainfall.

Not much longer now...

Her weapons had been dormant for weeks. It was time to get things moving. She'd long since grasped the benefits of a mortal life. Her previous existence as a death knight held no light to the things she'd missed out on up until her resurrection. Pain, pleasure, a cold chill populating her lungs and a warm meal in her stomach. Simple pleasures. They grew typical now. She needed more. The fight had not left her in undeath nor in life. It was to her as air was to a living, breathing creature. She enjoyed every corner, every aspect of a well-fought battle against a worthy target.

'Anyone'. The reminder caused her lips to curl into a subtle grin as her steed brought her closer to her mission. Cyrus had said, to dispose of anyone that interfered with her objective...and she would.

((Thank you, Cyrus and Haelolin for getting involved. It was good to have LO back in action with us. The stories from other perspectives make it so much more interesting and I enjoyed your additions very much. Good job!))

((Finn, I always enjoy rping with you and your writing is so much fun. This has been an interesting journey.))

"Sepha, someone's at the gate." Ronnad stood in the doorway, still holding her salute. Bless her, she never forgot to salute even when Gentyl did.

Gentyl looked up from the stack of reports and bills. She needed to go out and do some mining soon. Her bank account was nearly empty. "Who is it?"

"I don't know, ma'am. He didn't give me his name and he wouldn't come in the gate. He's a big Draenei."

A big Draenei. That could be any Draenei considering Ronnad was a dwarf. Gentyl walked outside and unhobbled Valor from where he was grazing nearby. The horse kept nipping off grass as she mounted and finally lifted his head with long blades of grass still sticking out of the side of his mouth. "Come on, Ronnad. Let's go see who our visitor is."

Ten other Pia Guards had joined them by the time they reached the gate.

The big Draenei huffed out a familiar laugh. "Quite a welcoming committee for me."

"Cyrus. We don't get many visitors up here. I see you brought friends."

He turned to look at Sathrasa and Haelolin as if surprised to see them An effect solely for Gentyl's benefit. Imperon's captains often traveled with guards as did their master. "Oh, yes, friends."

"What brings you up here?" Now she knew why he had waited at the gate. Sathrasa wasn't welcome on their grounds. Not that it kept her out, but at least Cyrus was making a show of respecting their territory.

"I heard you're hunting Meshqa. We'd like to offer our help."

Taelanas snorted and then leaned closer and whispered. "You swore you'd never ask LO for help again."

He was right. After the last time Gentyl and Imperon had locked horns she had very verbally and in front of a tavern full of witnesses swore she would never ask Imperon for help again. Imperon, true to form, had simply nodded and smiled as if indulging a child throwing a temper tantrum. "You'll need my help one day. I know you. You won't risk someone being hurt just for the sake of your pride and I have a powerful army."

"Thank you, but I think we can handle it. I believe I swore I'd never ask LO for help again after the last meeting."

"You're not asking for help. I spoke to Imperon and asked if we could ride with you. I have a score to settle with Rua and Meshqa knows where the orc is. I need that information."

"I need to speak to my officers."

"Don't take too long, Gentyl. I'm short on patience these days." He disappeared into a death gate. His guards had already melted away.

The meeting was more contentious than she had expected. Everyone who had been at the gate met in the tower and they all had an opinion.

"We'll accept their offer of help," Gentyl said at last. "I don't want my pride to get in the way of nabbing Meshqa. We can't afford to lose him this late in the game. I want LO to ride separate. Taelanas is still in charge of the raid." She turned to Taelanas who was still frowning his disappointment at the decision. "Contact Cyrus and coordinate with him. You are leading the raid. His forces have to work with us so we don't lose the goblin."

"And who takes control of Meshqa, Sepha?"

"We do, Taelanas. Meshqa is ours regardless of who captures him. I'll allow Cyrus to question him, but he's ours."

Zizzikky gave her wind-rider the "go home" order quietly. It looked down at her a moment, confused at the command, since Zikky was not currently in the saddle, before growling softly and taking off with a light leap.

Zikky looked around cautiously at the dock workers keeping busy all over the pier. They had hardly noticed her presence, simply moving around her while continuing their hectic pace.

Bilgewater Harbor was bustling more than the last time she had been here. Gallywix's cartel had been busy ingratiating themselves to the Horde, and business had picked up as a result. All the better for Zikky. It would be easier to move around unnoticed if she was just one of so many goblins present.

She knew she shouldn't be here, about to do what she was planning to do, but if the anonymous note she had received a few days prior was right, she would find him here.

Meshqa. The name alone made her shudder. Faithe had warned her very specifically to not go looking for him. He was dangerous. But, she had also told Zikky that he hadn't stopped harassing her, pining for his "lost dove".

In a sense, Zizzikky should be grateful to the other goblin. If he hadn't captured and held Faithe against her will, Zikky would have likely never met the silver-haired young Human. She couldn't put a bead on it, but something about the girl had spoke to Zikky. She was special somehow, and Zikky wasn't one to argue when the Spirits left their mark on an event.

Zizzikky had already seen Faithe caged like a pet; had already secretly snuck food and water to her. She wasn't about to let Faithe be captured by the little bastard again.

The note gave her the option for action, and she was taking it. She'd either convince Meshqa that forgetting completely about Faithe was the best way to maintain his current level of health, or she'd make good on the threat right then and there...

Zizzikky looked down at her choice of disguise one last time. Extravagant dress, flowing velvet cloak, dark leather boots, and overly-flashy jewelry. She looked like the madame at a house of ill-repute.

"Perfect," she muttered to herself. What better way to get in to see the slave-trader than to present herself as someone in a position to provide him with "fresh product"?

Zikky uttered a quiet plea to the Spirits that her plan wasn't completely insane, squared her shoulders, and located the specific dock-supervisor mentioned in the note. He was supposed to be on the slaver's payroll.

"Hey-oh, youse dere! I'm lookin' to see a man about some girls. Where's YOUR boss at?"

The dock was busy making it just that much better. Tracking down this Meshqa was some what easy. Goblins held loose tongues where gold and precious stones are concerned. All information had lead him here. He had sighted the Goblin in question and watched. He busied himself on the docks, found plenty of ways to distract his presence. The blood elf felt the tingle, and the tingle was never good. A gut instinct that confirmed this Meshqa was being watched, tracked, by others. That would mean some quick thinking. The nature of this would change quickly. A strike force would be imminent. This opportunity had now changed to one of tracking. That would then determine the next move in this game. This was his game as long as he kept on his feet, and so far he had not stumbled.

(dun dun dun Methinks we'll see Vusin around again.)