World of Warcraft®

"Even for the Barrens, this is a miserable day."

Pal'fon looked over at the blood elf that spoke, clad in heavy metal armor that seemed molded to his body. One of the many swordsmen they had hired for the attack, gathered at the base of the mountains on the far side of Mulgore. The troll might has said something but it was clear that the roughly two dozen mercenaries were just as unhappy and just as eager to get things going.

Pal'fon moved over to his Brothers, standing away from the rest of the rabble. He moved up beside a blood elf woman dressed in a light breastplate and chain, nodding to her. "Dey be itchin' ta fight, Kylissa. We bettah be stahtin' soon or dey be fightin' each uddah."

The elf nodded, checking the straps of her armor. The armor didn't look like it protected much but Pal'fon knew better. He'd sparred against her before and she was a nimble fighter, preferring her own energetic style to protect her as much as the armor. The other two Brothers were preparing as well. The Dark Iron warlock, Bhalgin, was muttering over some tome he had with him while their fourth, a man they knew only as The Trigger, sat under the shade of a scrubby tree by the wind riders and finished cleaning the dust from his long rifle.

Kylissa waited until the Brothers finished their preparations before she let out a whistle that cut through the chatter of the mercenaries. "Alright, listen up! The job is simple. We're going to summon you lot up to the top of the mountain. Once you're there, we're going to attack where our targets are hiding out. Everyone gets a bonus for each person killed..." There were a few grins and chuckles. "...who's NOT part of this assault!" The grins disappeared and at least one person in the back cursed.

"Hidden among our targets is a human girl child, who must be taken ALIVE and UNHARMED! No child, no bonus. If we find her cut, maimed, or dead, I'll personally take the heads of those responsible." The look she gave the mercenaries was cold, cruel and told them that not only would she do it, she would enjoy every second.

"Now, line up for your summoning stone!" Kylissa watched as the mercenaries, mostly out of work orcish warriors, clumsily formed a line. At least until Kylissa took out a whip and gave it a crack. That seemed to get their attention and the line quickly straightened out. The dwarf chuckled to himself as he went down the line, passing out a small, blood-red stone that seemed to pulse slightly. Some of the mercs seemed none-to-happy to have it but the promise of pay was a good motivator. That and the whip.

Finished passing out the stones, Bhalgin made his way over to where Pal'fon and Trigger were already mounting up. The wind riders took to the air, leaving the mercs and a sadistic elf with a whip behind as they flew up the mountainside.

-----------------

They made a quick pass over the mountain and it didn't take long to spot the cave. Landing a good distance off, they quickly dismounted and each began their own preparations. The Trigger found a tree that would give him a view of the cave mouth and started setting up his perch. Bhalgin found a relatively clear are and after picking up and tossing a few rocks to make the ground roughly even, summoned his fel hunter and gave it a scratch under the jaw before pacing the ground and placing the green-flaming runes in preparation for the mass summoning. Pal'fon made a pass around the ridge trying to find any surprises. He hated surprises.

The two of them sat beneath the twin conifers not far from the cave's entrance, being “weird” by Lynnie's standards. The day, like most of Mulgore's days, was arid and hot. Suni braced herself against Vith's side with his left hand propped in her lap. She worked a needle through a long tear in his undershirt, which had left the cuff dangling uselessly. She'd cornered him before he'd had time to simply tear it off, assuring him that her skills as a seamstress were rival to none and she could salvage it with ease. Now, with his glove and bracer in the grass beside them, Vith sighed for a third time, feigning impatience.
 
Suni snickered, teasing him. “I've subjected you to countless, unspeakable horrors in the last two weeks, Mr. Maldonst. I'm quite sure you're tough enough to survive a bit of mending.”
 
Vith rolled his eyes, replying dryly, “Whatever pleases M'lady.” He smiled triumphantly as a well-placed poke in her ribs made her squeak.
 
She paused mid-stitch, and eyed him, flashing him a quelling look. “Needle, young master Maldonst.” She gave the needle a tug for emphasis, repeating, “Needle ...
 
"Light forbid you should bleed to death before I'm rescued.” Their eyes met, both of them smirking over the absurdity of her statement. Then, tying off the stitching, she bent forward to sever the thread with her teeth. Reaching down, she collected his armor, passing it to him as she freed his hand from captivity.
 
“See? Like new. Just as promised.”  She offered him a smug smile over her shoulder.
 
Hidden from view just a few yards away, Kord sat perched on a boulder in the shade beside the mouth of the cave. His sketchbook lay across his lap, the fingers of his dominant hand blackened by the soot of his charcoal.  Every once in a while, he'd look up and study Suni and Vith with a focused eye, using his thumb to gauge both perspective and distance.  He'd shake his head, watching them grin as if they had no care in the world, but underlying all of that, Kord knew the truth.
 
And so, he drew.  The rough outline of the Galleon became a solid backdrop and within it, he drew Suni as he saw her now.  Changed.  But, Kord wanted to capture the essence trapped beneath the unending smile.  Always she'd been the one with an air of mystery, but he'd come to determine Suni was no mystery at all.  Just like anyone, she had her doubts, her weaknesses, and her strengths.  He'd gone about in his own dogged way to push her beyond those doubts, make her embrace the truth. He drew Vith, too ... made the effort -- for Suni's sake --  to portray the man only she knew.  As he'd seen it before, he saw it again: she could pull the best out of anyone.  Kord shook his head again.  How the fel she'd done it this time, he was sure he'd never understand.
 
Beside him, Lynnie pressed into the shade, sitting cross-legged with her favorite dolly tucked into her lap.  Her expression was sour as she looked out across the clearing, peering at Suni and Vith.  "They're being weird again," she grumbled. It earned her a jab from Kord's elbow in her side.
 
He chuckled as he bent his head to peer at her. "Absolutely. It's just something we can't understand."
 
Lynnie wrinkled her nose and huffed. "I understand just fine. They're being weird. Again."

The sellswords appeared in the transcribed circle as Bhalgin finished his chant. He stumbled slightly from the effort, leaning against his fel hunter. The demon whimpered and nudged the dwarf, receiving a pat for its concern. The mercenaries were a little dazed by the sudden transition but Kylissa had no such restriction. She quickly made her way among them, quick to remind them to be silent so as not to tip off their quarry. At her silent command, they hunched down or crawled as their pride would allow, creeping towards the edge of the ridge. As they drew closer, the cave mouth came into view over the edge of the rocks. Leading the way, Kylissa stopped just shy of the edge and gave a signal to stop. Alone, she inched forward until she could just barely see. A slow, sadistic smile spread across her face as she saw two of their prey below, sitting down beneith some trees. She slowly slid her curved blade from it's well oiled sheath. Motioning the warriors onward, she slid over the ledge, followed as quickly by the mercenaries.

***

Whether it was the glint of steel in the sunlight, or the sound of footsteps that called his attention to it, Vith didn't have time to ponder where the intruders came from. But, there they were, on the highest ridge to the east, sliding down the first slope with their weapons drawn.

For a fraction of a second, he froze. The next instant, he drove Suni to her feet, barking, "Go, now!"

It was like chain lightning, the reaction that followed. Suni bolted, her own gaze locking onto the mercenaries as they swarmed along the ridge. Simultaneously, Kord glanced up from his sketchbook, jolted as he watched her flailing towards him. His head jerked around, following her line of sight. He didn't hesitate; dropping pad and charcoal, his arms swept around Lynnie as he rolled from the rock into the mouth of the cave. A shocked Lynnie squeaked, groping for Vinnie as Kord set her on her feet.

“Lynnie, go. Tell Jon!” Kord unsheathed twin blades as he spun about and crouched low.

Drawing her own weapons, Lynnie skittered into the shadows and ran for the back of the cave.

Vith's first instinct was to break their attack and buy time. But then there was Suni, flinging herself forward with an instant teleportation spell. He heard the muffled pop and the ensuing echo as she reemerged. The disruption to the ozone was cloying to his senses, like the scent of lightning splitting the air; he shook it off. He watched Suni stagger, untangle a foot from the hem of her robe, and start to run again -- saw as she loped into the open and left herself vulnerable ... right below the onslaught of those fighters.

Cursing as he raced forward to put himself between them and her, he withdrew a throwing knife and lobbed it high and wide, aiming for the leading orc. The blade cut a swath through the air in an arc and struck his mark dead in the eye. The orc yelped, stumbled and fell, and was trampled by those in his wake. Vith caught sight of a single a blood elf then. It seemed she paused to focus on him, too. Then, with a smirk, she sidestepped, melting into the fold of the rush, and vanished from view.

On the opposite side of the pack, another orc fell under a second blade. Out of the corner of his eye, Vith saw a glimpse of Kord across the clearing just before he fell back into the shadows. He now looked back to find Suni, suddenly realizing she was no longer running. Instead, she had fixated on the mob. He felt her heart skip a beat. Then, rage.

Dammit, Suni – just run! He bellowed in his head, confident she heard him.

The horde was approaching too fast; Vith knew he was running out of time. Instinctively, he reached into a pocket and hurled a small explosive sack into their midst. In a flash, the device erupted with a sharp hiss, bellowing out a thick cloud of black smoke to choke and confuse their attackers. He then launched another knife, this one aimed at a dormant golem. The hilt of the blade struck with a clack, triggering Suni and Raoul's defensive magic. Arcane energy snapped and sizzled in the air, and all at once runes carved in wood and stone ignited as a dozen golems lumbered slowly to life, lurching forward towards the attackers.

Behind him, Suni roared at the oncoming crowd. Her teeth bared and her eyes alight with savage fire, she balled both of her hands into fists at her sides; a moment later, she erupted into flames. Vith felt it rip through her, deep within – that diametric struggle to both, leash and unleash the chaos. Half-turning, he caught her gaze and nodded at her. He understood. She needed permission, someone to remove the doubt, and needed to know that fighting back was, in this moment and without question, the very right thing to do. The fire around her condensed, traveling up her arms to coalesce into a ball between her hands. There it spun, stretched, and writhed as it flared white-hot in her grasp.

Do it. Let it go, he encouraged her in his mind, trying to convey some small measure of the tranquility she'd once shown him. Then he drew the shadows in around him, stepping through just as the spell left her hands. The percussive energy, the shock front of her detonation, jarred his teeth as his arm closed around her waist and he yanked her from her feet. The blast wave she hurled toward the oncoming orcs, though poorly aimed, struck the hillside high and wide enough that it forced them to scatter. Screams of agony echoed out over the ridge as two of their number went up in flame.

Vith spun them both about and ducked, his hand tucking Suni's head down as a war axe whispered past his shoulder. Another step-turn and he set her on her feet, inside the mouth of the cave, under cover of stone. The golems were shifting east now, each of them maneuvering in the direction of the attack, mindless minions set on a trajectory course with only one objective: interfere. The orcs faded back beyond the ridge to regroup, weapons drawn and brandishing their shields.

Vith caught Suni by her shoulders as she turned back, disoriented. Kord slipped past them, flinging a pair of small, deadly saronite blades over the golems to down a straggler before it could clamber over the barricade to get to them. “Suni,” Vith shook her, watching for signs of comprehension. Sweat ran from her temples, soaking into her hair, and she looked much too pale. She nodded in reply as she glanced up at him with her mismatched eyes, her expression blank. He could feel the fire still searing deep within her, but he didn't let go. Instead, he turned her, urging her onward. “Take Lilienne, and go. I'll catch up.”

Below them, from the west, a worgen bayed.

"Errr ... " Kord hesitated, glancing out, his back to a boulder. "Better make that we will catch up."

Kord only meant to step away from the boulders to get a better look to the west, down over the cliff side. Vith remained quiet, his back to Kord as he studied the layout of the eastern ridge. Neither of them saw nor heard the feral worgen as it launched from the story-high boulder above Kord, until Jonathan Harmarth alerted them as he loped around the last bend in the cave. Kord ducked, watching as Jon gathered himself and sprang into the air, soaring up overhead. Jon didn't bother trying to get above the other worgen, but instead sailed into its vulnerable belly. His claws sank with satisfying ease into the feral's soft, exposed flesh. Twisting his own body and using their collective momentum, Jonathan smashed the animal downwards, driving them both into the ground with such force, the packed earth exploded around them.

They rolled apart and clashed again. Snarling, Jon closed his teeth around the feral's throat and lifted the struggling creature up by its neck, hurling it towards the cliffs edge. It scrambled as it slid, claws digging the ground for purchase and, as it recovered, it stopped to consider another attack. Jonathan threw his arms back, chest filling with air, and half-howled, half-roared at the worgen, showing it all of his teeth at once.

The scout retreated over the edge and Jonathan bounded after it, yelling back over his shoulder, “More where that came from!”

Kord shuffled on his feet, backing into the mouth of the cave to make room as his body mutated, stretching and expanding to accommodate the ancient dragon form. The euphoria that came from the power of the sandstone drake filled his core, rushing through his abdomen like water spilling over cliffs, cascaded into falls, and flooded his entire being. His shoulders dropped low to the ground as he lifted the heavy, crystalline-spiked tail and swept it over Vith's head to bash a second, oncoming worgen. The feral gave a surprised yelp as it sailed backwards and crashed into the stump of the felled tree. It climbed to its feet and shook itself off before retreating beneath the two nearby pine trees.

“What in high holy hell ...” Jon backed into the cave on all fours. As he straightened, he pointed south across the clearing, “... is THAT?” Kord swung his head around to see and his heart lurched. What was that?

Along the south-western edge of the flat, a troll – a really big, very much undead troll – finished his ascent up over the cliff side, flicked grass from his breast plate, and casually hefted a giant mace over his shoulder. Kord got the distinct impression that this creature, with its massive tusks – “!@#$%^-, “Jon was asking, “is it wearing an Elekk on its face?” – and its slow, lumbering gait, was in no hurry whatsoever.

Baring sharpened teeth, Akuzul let out a loud roar, bellowing his threats. "Traitors... Mueh'zala will feast on your souls! Sacrifice you, we will..."

Behind them, Lynnie squealed in terror – a reaction that, for some reason, made Kord step out and use his now-drake body to seal off the entrance to the cave. He wasn't fond of this reaction; it grated against his ingrained urge to flee. He heard himself whispering, “Light … if I die before the wedding, Ket's gonna kill me.”

This wasn't the time for fighting, and he knew it, deep inside himself and instinctively. He stifled his own sense of urgency as he watched the pale-haired monstrosity fix its gaze on Lynnie and leer at her. “He's gonna eat me,” Lynnie choked hoarsely.

They spoke in unison, Kord directing Jon and Vith addressing Lynnie, and the message was the same: get back to Suni, get through the portal, and get out of the cave. Lynnie didn't resist. Tossing a frightened look over her shoulder at Akuzul, she darted into the darkness and vanished.

Jon eyed Kord. “You two can't hold them off on your own!”

Kord hardened, replying, “Don't intend to–” but Jon shook his head in defiance, pinning his ears.

Akuzul kept coming, making his way towards them from across the clearing. In Lynnie's absence, he shifted his gaze to Vith. One-by-one, worgen climbed up over the ridge, the entire pack of five falling into step and congregating behind him. Their teeth gnashed and jaws clacked. Once or twice the strongest of the two snapped at each other, vying for dominance.

Whether it was his own will or the influence of the ancient dragon spirit within him, Kord wasn't sure; he wasn't inclined to bouts of assertion, even under the spirit's prodding. But now, he reached out a claw, snatched Jon against a boulder, and presented his own fangs. His eyes bore down hard at Jon.

“Get the girls to safety. Now.” He let go of his subordinate officer, shoving the worgen away. With a snarl, Jon capitulated, dropping back to all fours and bounding off to the back of the cave.

Akuzul paused in the clearing, setting one foot up on the fallen tree log. The pack lurched to a halt being him and looked around at one another as if they were confused. One of them looked skyward and Kord followed its gaze. High up in the sky, riding astride a wyvern, Kord watched as a blood elf circled in a lazy arc, an overgrown carrion bird just waiting for them to die. Kord pursed his lips and snorted before he returned his gaze to the troll. Akuzul leered, gesturing for Vith to step out and join him. Then he slid a hideous mask over his ears, tugging it down on his face to settle in the cradle of his own tusks. His eyes glowed faintly through its eye slits, and the row upon row of jagged teeth carved in ivory relief across its front caused Kord to shudder.

Kord felt Vith shift as if to accept the challenge. “Don't,” He warned.

“I don't plan to, “Vith remarked. Both of them stood there assessing the scene, each peering out and calculating chance and probability, though Kord doubted it was for the same reasons.

Akuzul resumed his casual approach, the worgen straining forward right behind him. “Get the feelin' they're just toying with us.”

“Yep,” Vith agreed. “They're confident we only have one path of opportunity.”

“Mmmhhh … this is going to hurt; I can tell.”

“Don't be soft. We wouldn't make the portal any how.”

“Mmph.” Kord glanced up and then looked behind him at the layer of frost holding up half a ton of stone.

“Orcs incoming, too.” Vith reported. Only four, Kord saw them as they slipped down the slope towards the golem barricade.

“You got any plans?” Kord asked in a rough whisper as he lifted his head above the protection of stone to watch the orcs attack and hack apart a wooden golem. Sighing a fatalistic sigh, he swung his drake head around to peer at Akuzul again. He did have a plan, but his confidence was flagging under all the pressure.

All of them heard the rifle's report, heard the shrill whistle of the .50 caliber projectile, and the horrendous crack as it struck plate metal. Orcs paused at the base of the cliff, shields arcing up in unison as if expecting a barrage of incoming grenades. In the distance, Akuzul staggered forward and his giant, two-toed foot slammed the ground hard as he braced himself. He shook his head. Kord thought he looked stunned, not that he could see much past that hideous, grinning helmet.

Vith cursed as together they watched Akuzul slowly raise a hand to the back of his head. The death knight then swiveled, his feet scuffing one step at a time on the parched, packed ground and he peered up over the ridge to the balanced rock high above them. Kord narrowed his eyes to peer at the dent in the back of the helmet. It folded in around the bullet almost as if hugging it. He followed the troll's gaze, spying another worgen, his rifle glinting in the sunlight as he scooted back atop the balanced boulder, pushing himself out of sight.

As a single unit, the worgen pack turned and silently climbed the hill towards the sniper. Akuzul watched them go and shrugged before rotating around to face the orcs, studying them. The slide of unsheathing steel sang out above them and echoed along the ridge. The two opposing factions stood there for just a few seconds more, assessing one another. Akuzul lifted his head as the blood elf high on the rise stood up, making herself known to him. She brandished her blade and whooped; Kord recognized this as some unspoken ritual or rite of attack. Whatever it was, Vith felt it coming too and crouched, easing a throwing knife from the back of his belt.

The flight instinct shrieked inside him, telling him to flee. Now. But, Kordrion stifled the urge and studied Akuzul with an objective eye. He only needed a few more feet. It seemed to him the world was grinding to a halt all around, everything suddenly in focus but also fuzzy. Kord's drake head swept forward and he braced himself as above them to the east a dozen orcs roared and lunged over the ridge, and came thundering down the slope. Akuzul raised his mace a little, sidestepped, and turned back towards the cave. Vith lunged forward, spun around, and fired the blade in his hand. As he did, both Kord and Akuzul reached out for him. Tusk met horn and Kord grimaced on impact, despite the protective properties of his sandstone skin. He jerked Vith under him with one claw. Above them, a dozen mechanical soldiers sprang to life, weapons raised, and screamed their war cries. The charging orcs hesitated under the new attack, changing their trajectory. A few of them flung axes at the decoys now bounding back and forth above the cave.

Kord's tail hurtled skyward, even as one of the troll's gauntlets closed around his longest nose horn. He tried to shake him free, but only managed to haul the death knight in closer. As he lunged forward and bashed his tail spikes into the permafrost holding the boulders above the mouth of the cave, Kord saw a scaly creature dart by his shoulder. It had a dark, burnished hide and blurred in his view as it ran. It bounded around the corridor and vanished and Kord realized there was nothing he could do. The stones caved in over him, driving his head into the ground. He grunted and hunched his shoulders, mantling his wings as tight as he could as he backed deeper into the collapsing cave front.

Boulders cracked in half. Rock piled on rock. Sand and pebbles dusted the air, obscuring his view. Kord dragged himself, Akuzul, and Vith deeper beneath the collapse, his back claws scratching and skittering on the soft chalcedony of the cave's stone floor. A stone bigger than a cannon ball hammered the same shoulder of the claw Kord used to press Vith against his chest in an effort to shield him from damage as the opening caved in. Kord grunted, letting Vith go. When he did, Akuzul let go of his horn and lunged for Vith, his gauntlet sweeping closed just shy of Vith's throat. The death knight shook his head and grunted, pushing at the rubble that buried him up to his mid-section. He reared back and lunged, his tusks catching Vith's right forearm. Both bones shattered, as did Vith's wrist before Kord could reach out and snatch him away again. Drawing a sword with his left hand, Vith thrust at Akuzul's head, determined to slip the blade through the helmet's eye slit and into his eye.

Akuzul merely sneered at the effort, uttering again, "Mueh'zala will feast on your souls ..." as Kord reared back and coiled himself around his own haunches. Kord closed both front claws around Vith's writhing form and jerked him close to his heart – a place he really didn't want this man, especially with his weapon drawn.

“Quit movin'!” He bellowed, surprised when Vith acquiesced. His eyes darted to-and-fro in the darkness until his found his opening, a small crease of sunlight at the top of the rubble. Kord tucked his head again, nose horn aimed for the opening as he surged on his hind legs and leaped, punching his way out of the cave.

His wings unfurled the moment he was free and, with one powerful beat, he banked a sharp right and dove over the western rim of the cliffs. He opened his wings wide then to catch a draft that shot the two of them straight into the air. He peered back over his shoulder once, to see if the mounted elf would pursue, but saw nothing in his wake. Satisfied, Kord deposited Vith on his back and angled east towards Theramore.

((Just a note; the above posts are a collaborative effort from all the participants, but I'd like to thank everyone for being patient and trusting me to write/speak for their characters.))

((Fantastic!))

((So awesome! n.n ))

((Whee! My first thought as I was reading the part with Jon, is that in general he makes a point NOT to bite... but then I realized, that's because he doesn't know if he can still spread the curse with a bite and is very much afraid to find out. Why would he be afraid of biting another Worgen? Very well done! :P))

The meeting was short, there was little to say. Narnicka knew the location of a factory where Modas was creating a weapon of massive force, greater than anything Gentyl could conceive of. No, they didn't care if it destroyed all life. They probably preferred it that way.

"Let's ride," Gentyl said simply. "Tell us when you need us and Pia will go."

"And what happens if we fail?" Tom asked.

"Failure isn't an option" she replied.

(Whee! My first thought as I was reading the part with Jon, is that in general he makes a point NOT to bite... but then I realized, that's because he doesn't know if he can still spread the curse with a bite and is very much afraid to find out. Why would he be afraid of biting another Worgen? Very well done! :P))

(( >.> I just figured Jon as being waaaay too alpha in his own way to take much guff from a bloody ruttin' feral! I'm glad I didn't mess it up too much, though!))

Lynnie went back for Vinnie; she just couldn't bear the thought of leaving behind her favorite dolly. Not after Mama Suni helped her name him – Vith plus Lynnie equaled Vinnie – not after all the secrets she'd already shared with him. Vith would get mad and maybe Suni would, too. Still, the thought of loss spurred Lynnie onward, back to the entrance of the cave.

She heard the cave-in. She paused in the corridor, crouching near the wall as she listened. She heard strange footsteps and running, but before she could slip behind a stalagmite, a fel hunter skated around another protruding limestone formation and slammed her against the cavern wall. Lynnie squeaked and caught her breath as she froze, pressing herself closer to the stone. Mr. Lord Aziel kept such creatures and she knew they were vicious, single-minded monsters.

The glow from Suni's floating sconce darkened as the small frostfire orb winked out. Lynnie sighed and closed her eyes to give them time to adjust. Moving through the cave in the dark wasn't a problem, she'd been making a game of it for the last three weeks. She opened her eyes and looked longingly to her left, towards the mouth of the cave and mewled indecisively. It was almost certain now that Vinnie was lost to her forever. “I'll come back for you,” she promised. But, how many times had she heard similar words in the past?

Shaking her head, Lynnie dashed down the narrow corridor back towards Suni and Jon. The entire cave plunged into darkness now; the fel hunter had drained all the magic from the orbs. It was easy to pick her way along, though. It was not an elaborate system at all, having just a single corridor with a few little grottoes and one or two alcoves. Lynnie passed the small alcove now that Suni had converted into an oven to bake pies for them two weeks ago – a gesture that had lifted morale. They'd spent most of their time gathered here. There had been a lot of discussion, lessons, and even a tea party.

Now it was dark. And silent. Lynnie pressed deeper into the cave, into those places Mama Suni had disguised magically for privacy. Again, she paused to listen. She heard a little girl's scream, listened to it echo up the cavern and the sound of it caused an odd tightening within her chest. The sensation made her instinctively reach for both her weapons.

“Mama?” Worried, Lynnie sprinted down the long, angling slope until it fed her into a more spacious, much larger cavern than she'd seen before. It had a high ceiling and an oculus inset with crudely fashioned glass. Natural light poured in from this window.

“Suni!” Again the little voice cried out and now Lynnie caught sight of her, a blond haired girl huddled between two limestone pillars. She had her back pressed against a boulder.

“Hang on, Suni!” Lynnie heard Jonathan Harmarth, too. Edging around an outcropping, Lynnie saw Jonathan on his back holding the fel hunter's bottom jaw with one hand while the other manacled its neck. The hunter hissed and snapped, teeth gnashing inches from Jon's face as it tried to lunge over him.

A few feet away from them, Lynnie saw Suni crumpled in a heap on the floor of the cave. Her eyes were clenched shut and her expression was a grimace of agony. It took Lynnie a few seconds to realize Jon wasn't helplessly pinned under the fel hunter, but instead struggled to hold it back from Suni. Thick arcane streams of altering colors fed from Suni to the tentacles on the fel hunter's back. The fact that it could maintain a physical and a magical attack made it difficult for Jon to do much else but hold it in place. It meant to kill Suni, one way or the other.

No. Lynnie shook her head as this realization dawned inside her. She'd died a kid and was torn back from the veil as a kid, but that was a long time ago. There were moments now when she saw the world through the eyes of experience, even if she couldn't claim to know it as an adult. She was not going to lose another Mama. Not again.

Quelling her childish impulses, Lynnnie closed her eyes and meditated to clear her mind and gather focus; she'd watched Vith do this many times. She tucked her knives in, drawing the blades flat against her slender forearms. Opening her eyes, she sprinted forward and leaped against a tall, narrow pillar of limestone. Using it to kick off, she drew her arms close to her chest, thrust herself into a high arc, and cork-screwed through the air. As her right foot made contact with the demon's scaly back, she thrust forward on the ball of her foot, lunging downward in the same moment. She threw her arms out wide and swept her blades forward to punch them through the demon's antennae. The thick, rough hide resisted, but Lynnie had learned: in the absence of force, use precision. And so she kept her blades honed and razor sharp.

The tentacles stopped channeling when she severed them. Below her the fel hunter screamed in rage, forcing her to adjust her footing to maintain balance as it bucked beneath her. She stretched both arms up high and angled the blades ninety-degrees parallel to the floor, driving them downward with all her might. They punctured the fel hunter's sides, sinking deep into the vulnerable areas just past its elbows. She twisted and yanked, in and up, as she snarled at the beast. Tearing the knives free, Lynnie stabbed it again. And again.

“Lynnie!” Jon's shout jerked her back to reality. “It's dead.”

She hopped to the ground as Jonathan rolled and shoved the demon aside. The fel hunter disintegrated immediately, melting back into the nether from the inside out, until all that remained was an empty hide. Lynnie turned away, looking around at Suni who still lay in a heap on the ground.

“Mama Suni?” Lynnie crouched and skittered sideways. Her eyes flicked up once, to the strange girl who looked back at her with big, intelligent eyes. The other girl probed Suni with tiny hands, as if seeking something. Lynnie fought the urge to shove her away because she wanted to know, too, if Suni was okay.

Both girls shifted their gazes in unison, looking up at Jonathan Harmarth with big, liquid expressions. He regarded them momentarily before uttering a curse and then knelt beside Suni with a frown.

“Is she all right?” Lilienne asked.

When no one answered, Lynnie sheathed her weapons and reached out to give Suni a violent shake. Suni gasped and bolted upright in response, her eyes wide and terrified. She glanced from face to face. Lynnie hated how she looked – like worn, wet leather left to dry in the desert. Her eyes were sunken and her bottom lip cracked as if she'd been parched for too long. Suni swiped a hand over the bloody lip and winced as Jon carefully set a clawed hand on her shoulder.

“Do you think you can get us out of here?” He asked.

Suni nodded as she bent forward to dry heave before looking back up at Jon, saying, “I'll be useless afterward.” She motioned to Lilienne. “She can't be exposed.”

Jonathan hauled Suni to her feet. She staggered as she turned and Lynnie watched as she gave Lilienne an apologetic smile. “I'm sorry, Lili--”

Lilienne shook her head and waved a little hand. “It's okay, Suni. I know. Can I be a turtle again?”

Lynnie gaped as the girl shriveled and shrank before her eyes. She reached out for the turtle, but Suni cut her off, bending with Jonathan's help to sweep Lilienne into her satchel. She clutched Jon's forearm again and looked as if she might sag to the floor any second. Lynnie grimaced at this. Mama Suni looked too weak.

“I called for help,” Suni explained as she lifted her left hand and tapped her temple. “Here. I – I was aiming for the Archmagus – I mean, Raoul – but … I'm really not sure if anyone heard me.” Suni stretched the hand out and began working the portal spell.

Lynnie hadn't realized before that magic could be so hard or so taxing. It hurt her to watch Suni struggle to make a spell. She chewed at her bottom lip thoughtfully as the portal sputtered and wobbled like an egg spinning in the air before it finally flared open with a pulse of arcane light. She noticed Suni's nose bleed then and shook her delicate ears in dismay. If Mama Suni wanted Raoul Zharikov, Lynnie meant to find him and bring him to her.

“Go quickly,” Suni ordered and Lynnie bounded through, not bothering to look back for the others. She squawked, though, when Jonathan snatched her by her collar and halted her, lifting her onto her toes. His other hand dragged Suni through the portal and kept her upright on her feet.

“Not so fast,” he said.

Lynnie huffed and eyed a dwarf soldier as he clanked by in full armor. He regarded her suspiciously before shrugging and continuing his patrol. He must have dealt with plenty of high elves before or maybe he just couldn't be bothered to harass her.

“Where are we going?” Jon asked, eying Suni.

“The hills above Stormwind,” She replied as she bent to retch again. She hesitated as a passing gnome flashed her a disapproving glance. “Hung over,” Suni supplied with an apologetic smile. Lynnie scowled. Maybe she was hung over, in a way, but not because of booze and – why did Suni let the gnome lady walk away believing such a thing?

“No tram. We need to avoid Stormwind. Still don't know how we're being tracked – I thought it was the nightgown, but ...” Suni trailed off. “We need healing potions.”

“There's a decent campsite not far from here, in the hills to the southeast. Think you can walk?” Jon turned Suni and led them all out of the Mystic Ward without waiting for a reply. Suni fell into step behind him and Lynnie trotted to catch up, putting a hand out to steady Suni as she stumbled. For now, Lynnie waited, but she had a mission to complete, no matter what. And then, she'd go back to find Vinnie.

Both girls shifted their gazes in unison, looking up at Jonathan Harmarth with big, liquid expressions. He regarded them momentarily before uttering a curse and then knelt beside Suni with a frown.

(( Hey, watch the language. They're very impressionable at that age. ))

((oop, sorry. :P))

((Lynnie hears much, much worse from Bhayne and occasionally repeats it. >.> ))

07/30/2012 02:58 PMPosted by Lynnie

((Lynnie hears much, much worse from Bhayne and occasionally repeats it. >.> ))

((And she does so loudly, much to Bhayne's chagrin!))

The collapse of the cave entrance came as a surprise, to say nothing of the dragon that had collapsed it. Kylissa ground her teeth in frustration. Now their targets were currently out of their reach but she wasn't without a surrogate: Modas had dropped right into their lap. At her command, some of the mercenaries drew bows or slings and unleashed at the wind rider hovering above the plateau.

A few of the missiles struck the beast as Thasyn turned it around to flee. He was outnumbered and wouldn't do Akuzul or his pack any good if he was dead. He would have to return later to see about freeing the death knight.

-------------------------------

Several hours later, Thasyn returned with his rhino and a good deal of thick chain, a heavy rock hammer, and climbing pitons. The mercenaries that had shot at him were gone and a quick sweep confirmed it. Using the rhino as the muscle, he began clearing out the rubble that had been the cave entrance. Some of the heavier rocks had to be secured by the chains to a harness on the massive beast to move them. A few stones starting to shift and slide was his only warning as Akuzul burst from the rocks with a roar of rage. Thasyn ducked as one flew past his head and took a step back as the hulking troll pulled himself from the remaining stones around his lower half, then dug around more until he fished out his weapon from the stones. His armor was dented in several places from where the rocks had struck him. His mask was missing the lower portion, revealing a rictus grin as he looked at the blood elf. Thasyn quickly unhooked the animal and went in search of his pack. Any excuse to be away from the death knight.

-------------------------------

Thasyn did a more thorough check around the mountainside, following the tracks left behind by the feral worgen. He stopped by the hanging rock not far from the cave, the tracks at the base. He walked around it, seeing if they picked up around the pillar. When something dripped on him, he didn't have to look up to guess where to go next. The scene he found atop the balance rock was carnage. But not in the way he had expected. All five of his pack were laid out, holes from large caliber bullets found in vital locations. With a sigh, he remounted his patched up wind rider.

"Such a pity. I liked that Alpha. Guess I'll have to find replacements."

((Posted with approval of the players involved))

The sun set very late indeed in Dalaran during the summer months. Twilight hovered over the mage city for many hours, before darkness finally descended close to midnight. Fernand, wrapped in black robes and a large, wide-brimmed hat, clipped along the cobblestone streets in his polished leather shoes. Although the sun had only recently disappeared, it was still very late in the evening, and the only people Fernand passed on the streets were revellers pouring from the various taverns and the occasional guard patrol. As Fernand made his way into Dalaran’s central business district, even those few passersby dwindled to nonexistence. After much personal deliberation, dissecting every fact and observing it from every possible angle, and piecing together a timeline of events as best as possible, it had occurred to the undead Apothecary that the most likely link to the Brotherhood’s involvement lay with the Kirin Tor. It was not until Fernand petitioned Archmage Vorensal that Lilienne’s kidnapping was attempted, and numerous other organisations and persons became involved. The undead man watched Dalaran’s courthouse from a distance for some time and, once satisfied that there was no one about, made his way up the marble stairs to the large, gilded entrance. The courthouse was a public building and, without hindrance, Fernand opened the door and slipped inside. Several softly glowing balls of energy gave the large, open room limited illumination, but Fernand ignored it. He knew precisely where Vorensal’s office was located.

It did not take long to navigate the various corridors and office vestibules, and in no time at all Fernand stood before a particularly ornate, lovingly carved wooden door. A golden placard announced the office as belonging to Archmagus F. Vorensal. Careful not to touch the door directly, Fernand inspected the wooden carvings: like most everything in Dalaran, it was the work of a meticulous artist, and the door appeared to be a tribute to the water-life in Hillsbrad, clearly from a time when Dalaran sat nestled in that part of the world. A combination of cheerful otters, bumbling turtles and thrashing fish rode intricately carved, wooden waves from the top of the door to the floor; the handle was a cheeky otter’s tail, whose posterior was raised upward, a wide grin and rather lewd wink on its face. The undead Apothecary held no interest in the artistry, however. Vorensal was a powerful Archmage, and like many mages, was likely to be highly secretive, dangerously competitive and somewhat paranoid of the risk of other mages fumbling through her personal work. Upon first glance, the door did not appear to be warded. While some mages lacked imagination and were likely to carve a ward which even a pumpkin farmer could recognise, Fernand doubted that Vorensal fell within this category. He suspected that the strenuous detail was a ruse to hide one, or perhaps several, protective wards. Fernand noticed the frost ward with little difficulty. It was designed to release a wave of frost to freeze an intruder if the door was opened without a locking ward being deactivated. It was not particularly lethal, which stood to reason, as there were most likely all sorts of bureaucratic laws in place for what protective wards were acceptable in a public place. Locating the lock itself proved to be more challenging. Fernand spent almost an hour until he spotted the second ward – it was the lewd, doorhandle otter, whose body and tail was contorted in a particularly unusual shape. Two-dimensionally it meant nothing, but when one included the tail itself, the otter’s trunk, and its oddly spread legs, the three-dimensional object was written as a protective ward, both a lock for the door itself and an alarm to notify someone or something of an intrusion. He continued to scour the door for any further protections and, once satisfied that it was unlikely that the door held any unknown surprises, Fernand directed a potent counterspell at the lewd otter. He quickly slipped inside the office, before the magic behind the lock and alarm had time to reset.