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Donaby and Penn lingered after Vallandi left; Kordrion watched them warily. Donaby's expression betrayed no hint that this was anything other than a routine assignment change, but Penn's grim smile, despite the painful welt on his cheek, suggested otherwise.

He looked away, returning to toying with a piece of grass at his feet, muttering to himself.

"What was that?" Penn demanded.

"Nothing at all."

"Good. Then you're coming with me."

Kordrion stood and dusted himself off. "And where would we be going?"

"Back inside. Free time's over." He smirked as though that were a joke, gesturing with one free hand to indicate Kordrion should start walking. Donaby continued to watch silently.

He frowned. Something wasn't quite right. "I rather prefer being outside."

"You'll have to forgive us," Donaby interjected, "if we prefer not to have an outsider watching our operations."

Kord eyed the two of them again, taking a deep breath and stifling his misgivings. There was not much he could do. He stepped past Penn. The large man's hand clamped down on Kordrion's arm as he passed, affixing a small metal manacle on his wrist. He jerked in surprise, but not fast enough to avoid the trap. The manacle locked itself into place.

"Not the best way to get my help."

"You've made it abundantly clear that you do not intend to help," Donaby replied smoothly. "I have not made it this far without learning to take precautions. I'm not leaving you free to fly off and warn the Horde that we are here."

Kordrion shot the manacle another concerned look. It only took a moment's concentration to confirm his fear. "I see."

Donaby leaned toward him. "I've had an interest in your career, Stoneheardt. It's people like you who've helped create this mess.  Unwilling to take a clear stance on side of your people.  Running an organization that is sloppy and lacks discipline.  You bleed away the strength of the Alliance."

Kord shifted into a defensive stance, ill at ease. "You say that, but my people know what's important. The ability to put aside differences and do work that benefits all instead of a few."

"So do mine."

"Your people know what you tell them. That's it." He scowled, running his hand through his hair. "You've clipped my wings. Happy? Go make someone else miserable."

Penn shoved Kordrion forward. "Let's go."

He staggered, giving the burly man a quiet snarl. "Pick on someone your own size."

"Afraid I'm stuck with you, runt. Orders."

Kordrion stiffly began walking back to the tent; Penn followed only a few steps behind. He quickly sidestepped, sticking out his foot in Penn's path. The other man stumbled, but didn't quite fall. He spun around with a red face, aiming his fist at Kordrion's face.

Kordrion ducked, launching himself at the Penn's midsection in a tackle, already forgetting that he was unable to shift into his drake form. An elbow cracked down on his head. He cursed, dropping to the ground.

"Fel… plate your bloody elbow with metal?"

"Care to try my fist?"

"Penn, that's enough," Donaby barked. "You've made your point."

Penn reluctantly complied, stepping back a measly foot from Kordrion, who stood back up, looking irritable and sore.

"I would be more careful of your footing," Donaby warned Kordrion, shaking his head. "If you're the reason she left the service, then perhaps my faith in Jancis was misplaced."

Kordrion snapped his head at Donaby. "Don't speak of Ketlan," he said with a distinctly venomous tone.

"She was one of my trusted officers." He sounded sorrowful. "So much promise, all wasted, thanks to you." A thoughtful pause, as he dug even deeper. "But then, I suppose Ketty did have a soft spot for traitors. I had hoped she'd learned better."

Hatred swelled in Kordrion's eyes. He dropped into a crouch, spinning at kick at Donaby's knee. He easily sidestepped the attack, giving a subtle nod to Penn, who reached out to grab Kordrion.

Kordrion evaded Penn's reach, shooting a glare at Donaby.

"I will kill you. For all the people you have harmed through your incompetence and negligence. For all the people who died and never had to."

Kordrion lunged at Donaby; the other man shifted his feet, deflecting Kordrion to the side. Kordrion attacked again, throwing a punch with the full weight of the manacle behind it.

Donaby smirked and raised his fist in a circular motion to deflect the blow again; the smirk disappeared with a flinch when his knuckles grazed against the metal. Still, he followed the parry with blow to the stomach. forcing him back. Donaby didn't give him time to recover, landing a clean right hook on his jaw.

Kord dropped to on knee, rubbing his chin. He jerked in surprise as Penn's meaty hands clamped down on his shoulders. Alarm and an panicked need to get away look crossed his face. Donaby slowly knelt down before him, until they were nearly the same eye level.

"And this," he said, "is for doubting our cause."

The blow came swiftly, followed by a sea of stars. He felt Penn's grip release him, and the group rising up to meet his face. He lay there in a daze for several deep breaths before attempting to push himself back up, not quite making it.

"Don't let Haywood see him before she goes," Donaby was talking above his head. "The druid can heal him up after the lesson's soaked in some." Donaby's boots turned in the dirt and marched away.

"Com on." Penn pulled Kordrion to his feet, shoving him again in the direction of the tent. He waited until he was certain he was able to walk steadily… then bolted for the edge of the camp, toward the trees.

Penn hesitated to run immediately after him. "Stop him!" he shouted before getting into motion. Several confused heads turned their way, but none were close enough to intercept Kordrion. On the perimeter guards hefted his crossbow into place, aiming at the fugitive.

He was only a few steps away from the first tree when the arrow embedded itself past his leather armor and into his back. Kordrion gasped in pain, forcing himself to continue running. Even with the pain is his side, Ashenvale's thick vegetation and hills proved to his advantage as he duck and wove around trees faster than Penn.

However. . . while he was quickly outpacing Penn, he spied one of the guards, crossbow slung over his back, in pursuit. The guard was able to match Kordrion's agility, leaping past roots and branches. Kordrion looked around for an opportunity. He abruptly darted behind a tree and waited, grabbing a large branch as an improvised club.

The guardsman soon came in sight, slowing his pace as he realized that Kordrion's trail had vanished. Kord lurked motionless in the shadows, focusing on controlling his breath. He needed perfect timing.

The guard stepped past the tree. Kordrion brought down the club on the back of his head, and he dropped to his knees. He tossed aside the club into a bush, dashing off.

The guard placed a hand on his head, feeling the wetness of blood. He looked back up, shaking his head to clear the daze, cursing. There was no sign of Kordrion.

(Done in collaboration with Vallandi)

Her disguise as a Forsaken was not very complicated. There were plenty of Forsaken who dressed in cloth from head to toe to hide disfigurements caused by death and decay. A trinket from Solomon provided her with a permanent pale look that was more reliable than makeup, and a fake set of scars were a back up in case someone took a second look at her. Some tincture to dull her hair, but no hood; hoods invited people to look closely.

Pain.

She was just tucking her scarf into place when she heard the commotion. One of the camp's guards waved her down. "Commander Donaby wishes to speak with you," she reported, pointing Vallandi in the correct direction.

Each breath brought a new sensation., the agony of torn muscles and the pain of lungs unable to draw in as much breath as his body screamed for.

She jogged her way over to where she'd last left Donaby and Penn. They were still there. Kordrion was not.

Were they still back there? Where was back there even?

"He lost sight of him near the drop-off," Penn was saying. "At least-" He broke off, nodding to Vallandi.

Finally the figure paused its headlong flight through the woods. Though it had been for the most part silent the pounding of his heart and the ragged sound of his breathing had seemed to drown out all others, even now they seemed to echo through the unnatural silence of the woods.

"Reporting as ordered, sir."

Once he stopped moving his body refused to go ignored any longer. While adrenaline still held off the worst of it there was still a deep burning sensation between his shoulder-blades, the fact that he had been moving faster the the crossbowman had anticipated was the only thing that spared his life.

"Keep on the look out." Donaby dismissed Penn, then turned to face her. "Stoneheardt's finally shown his colors. He's turned against us."

Dark, oh so dark. Twilight found the solitary figure making its way through the woods. How far he had gone he did not know, nor did he know how far he had to go, All that mattered was one foot in front of the other.

She tensed her shoulders. "I see. Then he's taken off?"

It's funny really. Of all the ways he had thought he would die (again) being land-bound was not one of them. How he yearned to feel the wind under his wings again no matter that they were not truly his wings. No, those lay where they fell beneath the sands of his home, but they were still of his essence.

"Yes." Donaby sighed, shaking his head slowly. "This confirms what I've suspected now, for a while. It was clear he was not truly interested in helping us interrogate Greyson. His order and the AAMS have been working together to profit from the war, probably on both sides. It explains why Hellscream allowed the AAMS to remain in his city for so long; they were feeding him intelligence reports."

Wings? Why was he walking? That accursed man, the manacle that prevented him from calling on the magic to warp his body into that of the stone drake. Hatred. Anger. Fuel.

"They weren't seriously challenged until after the rumors started to circulate about the AAMS breaking off ties with Hellscream in favor of Vol'jin," she said slowly.

It had been hours since he had fled the camp of those who held Arrayah. Hours of painful running and then walking when his legs would no longer run. At first the burning had been kept at bay by the adrenaline and fear of being hunted, soon it was replaced by breath stealing pain until eventually it was replaced only by numbness.

"I see you've figured it out," Donaby said with approval. He held up his hand, showing her freshly scraped knuckles. "Stoneheardt did not take kindly to being confronted with what we know. He's small, but dangerous. I'm going to have to add 'assault an officer' and 'resisting arrest' to the list of charges against him."

There was light in the distance. By now the numbness had spread through his body till he could barely even feel his legs yet still he walked on. Voices tugged at the edge of his fading consciousness, why did they sounds so odd?

"Now what, sir?"

It didn't really matter. Even if he was back at the camp it had to be better then dying alone from the infection that was quickly taking hold in his body.

"Reconnaissance has been canceled. We're moving camp before he can notify the Horde to our location. Then I'm going to need you on a special mission to Stormwind. We cannot let Terra Incognita and the AAMS go unchecked."

Alarm. That was the tone of the voices. Alarm and concern. The figures coming towards him were speaking to each other in Darnassian. Lifting his head (when had it dropped?) he could just make out the lights of the city. Astranaar. Safety. With that thought Kordrion finally gave in to the comforting darkness.

Kordrion's visit did little to raise Derscha's spirits, though she appreciated his efforts. Any of her usual diversions fell flat, knowing that Arrayah was likely dead. She returned to the AAMS office after their lunch, made a note to check on Kezrin if she were still sick the next day, and continued on her paperwork until late in the evening.

That was when the call came in over the hearthstone, from someone she'd never once spoken directly to.

"Miss Kettlebomb? Please pardon the interruption."

She knew the voice, of course. She frowned intently at the stone, wondering what could possibly make her call.

"Yes, Kettlebomb speaking. How may I assist you?"

"Miss Kettlebomb," Ketlan Stoneheardt spoke worriedly, "is Kordrion still in Booty Bay? He has not checked in."

"He is not, to my knowledge."

It turned out that Kordrion had disappeared shortly after Derscha had left him. A bit of questioning, and some loose gold, revealed that he'd been seen with a human woman but not what happened afterward.

The next day passed without new information, except for a brief message that Kordrion was "on a mission."

The third day was the call from Mirtadel at the Darnassus office, requesting Derscha's presence immediately. She hired a mage and portaled to Kalimdor. Mirtadel Whitesong directed her to Astranaar.

Kordrion had stumbled into a night elf patrol in the forests near Astranaar, delirious with exhaustion and injuries, mumbling something about the AAMS and Derscha's name. By the time she arrived at Astranaar, the healers had at least gotten him back on his feet and well enough to pace irritably.

"What happened? You're well?"

"Well, it's a long story. The important thing is that I have information for you."

"The important thing is that you're not dead."

"Well, that, too. I'm rather pleased with that fact." He gave a small, satisfied smile, if somewhat pained. "I saw Arrayah."

He related his experiences following their lunch at Booty Bay.

"She's being held by… Alliance forces? The Alliance." Derscha bowed her head. "The Pandaren are right; both sides are causing problems."

After some negotiating with the healer (during which Derscha flashed her credentials as a nurse practitioner), Kordrion was released into Derscha's care and she arranged for them to travel back to Stormwind. Kordrion's shifting ability was still being hampered by the manacle, and she had a contact whom she believed could remove it.

"There's a mage we use occasionally, when we don't have someone available on staff. I'll take you to meet him."

Luvian Maronn's shop was nestled in a far corner of the Mage Quarter. It was a small workshop, with closed windows and a simple sign reading, "Luvian Maronn, Mage for Hire." A smaller sign read, "New Customers by Appointment Only"

A bell pull was fastened near the sign. Derscha peered up at the short rope with consternation.

Kordrion reached over to pull it. "You'd think more people would have long lines on those."

"You'd think," the gnome grumbled as the bell chimed faintly in the distance.

There was the sound of several bolts being slid open, before the door cracked just wide enough for the spectacled eye of an older human to peer out at them. "Hmm, not one of my regulars," he murmured, examining Kordrion.

He pointed downward, at Derscha, who was impatiently crossing her arms.

The eyebrow raised in curiosity and the the narrow-faced man looked downward. "Ooh, hello, there, Derscha. Didn't see you," he said with a very innocent air. He stepped back and opened the door the rest of the way. Maronn dressed in the typical robes of his profession, a frail looking man in the way that someone who spent his life poring over books tended to be.

Kordrion shook his head with amusement and followed Derscha inside to a small parlor. "If you aren't all that busy, I need to hire your services for a very short time."

"Oh, no, no. Not at all. Have a seat."

Kordrion declined, displaying his wrist. "Someone decided it would be funny to put this on me, think you are able to get it off?"

Luvian took off his glasses and squinted at the manacle. "Hmm, looks like a twist on a standard suppressor."

"It was meant to keep me from shifting."

"Shifting?" Luvian looked to Kordrion, then peered inquisitively to Derscha.

"Like a lot of people these days I can become a sandstone drake," Kordrion explained.

He nodded in understanding, returning his attention to examining the magical device. "It does seem to very popular these days. Fads, bah. When I was younger everyone was a hawk."

"A hawk?"

"Hmm-hmm," he nodded, motioning imperiously for Kordrion to hold out his wrist for closer examination. "A nice little cantrip, it was, though not as long-lasting as what's being developed these days. Enough to impress young woman with flights of daring. Am I to assume this will be on the AAMS tab?"

"No. If you will accept it I can give you a writ to acquire the funds from the Terra Incognita account."

Luvian glanced once more to Derscha, then nodded as she gave him a 'thumbs up.' "That'll be acceptable... ah, interesting."

Kordrion cocked his head. "What?"

"Just noting where this particular enchantment came from. I do get quite a few of the unsavory types heading my way before trying to sneak out of town. Trouble with the law?" He didn't seem very perturbed by the question, continuing his examination of the manacle.

"Difference of opinions."

The mage muttered a few words under his breath, tracing a finger along an invisible line on the manacle. Sigils started to slowly glow, visible to the untrained eye, then faded away with a tingle. He grunted.

"This will sting," he announced, not giving Kordrion more than that half second warning before tapping the manacle yet again.

The sigils flashed like a sudden strike of lightning.

Kord's expression wandered the full spectrum from quizzical to surprised as he let out a yelp and jumped. A second yelp quickly followed, the muscles of his back and the half-healed arrow wound protesting being pulled.

"There!" Luvian straightened, smiling like a proud parent. "All taken care of. You should be able to remove it now."

Kordrion wasted no time in fiddling with the latch to remove it.

"Please address your writ to Luvian Maronn, no need to add any note. Is that all for you today, Miss Kettlebomb?"

She nodded. "Yes, thank you."

"It will be available at the trade district bank within the hour," Kordrion promised.

"Very well, now if you don't mind, I have things to be reading." Luvian shooed them toward the door, snatching a long leather strap from a table as he passed by.

Kordrion needed no further encouragement to head outside. Derscha chuckled as he disappeared.

"Do remember to tell me when you're dropping by next time, Derscha," Luvian said amiably as he walked her out, changing out the bells cord with ease, replacing the rope with the much longer, well-worn leather strap. "There's only so much I can do with thirty seconds' warning."

"You're lucky I'm in a good mood."

Above the purple rooftops, a drake soared, along with Derscha's spirits.

When’s there debt, there’s compound interest.

Kezrin missed Arrayah, well and truly. There was no longer someone else to dump the Horde Branch’s problems on, and the bossgnome had been so depressed she didn’t even giggle before saying, “Nothing you can’t handle, Miss Kanzelry.”

She’d even gone so far as to ask Fatty- uh, Inquisitor Bloodwing to see if he could find Arrayah. He was able to confirm that the Kor’kron didn’t know where she was, either, and that someone had spotted a Forsaken woman with a similar description leaving the city.

And just when Kezrin thought she’d gotten the Branch back into decent shape, That Awful Elf showed up. Trenetir Moradinal had quickly risen to the top of her ‘most despised’ list, second only to Nostril Face Waxworth. Handsome, smooth, and full of false charm to hide the deviousness underneath. He had the audacity to blackmail the AAMS, and so far, there’d not been much she could do about it.

They said the manager’s position was cursed. If this was the trouble being acting manager caused, she really understood why no one lasted long. The return of her nightmares weren’t helping. . . why did The Other Awful Elf have to bring an imp to Lounge Night?

She needed Arrayah back, but it seemed less likely every day. Derscha had brought back news: Arrayah was a prisoner of the Alliance. However, when the bossgnome went to the authorities to plead for her release, the story was denied. The Alliance officials were unwilling to admit they were holding the AAMS manager.

When she arrived at the next Library Salon at Silvermoon, the thought occurred to her to speak with Liore Bloodwing again, but she wasn’t sure how helpful he’d be feeling in the near future. He was already eyeing her with suspicion, no doubt caused by the nervous glances she was giving him. He even gave her an I’m watching you sign.

How could she not be nervous when surrounded by a contingent of four other couriers (and an annoying druid) who were all eagerly awaiting the chance to pelt him with snowballs? What kind of person thought it was amusing to have them “deliver” eighty snowballs?

(Answer: a gnome)

Fortunately, the thoroughly soaked and ice-flaked Inquisitor took the “delivery” in stride. After the salon had started to draw to a close (and they’d dealt with the fuss of the Libary’s book going missing) he was the one who brought up the investigation with her.

“Where are we, regarding Miss Greyson?”

She looked around the guest still milling around them. She could tell him the news…. except she didn’t want anyone eavesdropping on her talking about the Alliance military to a Horde investigator, even if she had good cause. “Can’t say, not here,” she mumbled.

“How tactless of me. My mind must be sluggish, being full of snow.”

She compromised. “There’s uh, been some news.”

“What news?”

“She’s been seen. But we can’t get to her.”

Liore nodded, once. “Quite a problem, these days. There are tunnels everywhere. You should speak to someone with expertise in them. One of your friends, perhaps.”

“One of my what?” Kezrin asked, confused. Tunnels?

“Friends? Associates? Often, other organic beings with a degree of sentience?” The degree of his snark was severely diminished by a sneeze. Perhaps he hadn’t quite forgiven her for the snowballs.

“Well, if we had someone who could find her, we would!” She crossed her arms defensively in a huff.

“Well, keep me in the loop, should you require a specialist. You know how to find me. Follow the trail of melted snow.”

“Yeah, if only we could find-” she cut herself off again, before the words the Alliance camp left her mouth.

Liore arched a brow at her. She considered what to say. She really wasn’t cut out for this type of work. Beside her, the Annoying Druid reached out and nipped her shoulder. She turned and glared at the cat, who looked back at her innocently.

Liore sneezed again. “Anyway, enjoy the rest of your evening.”

Kezrin sighed as he walked away, ignoring the looks the Annoying Druid was giving her. She wasn’t going to get anywhere unless she told Liore more. She followed after him and awkwardly lurked at the edge of the crowd.

Liore finished his new conversation, tipping his hat to his partner, then directed his attention to Kezrin. The poison in his eyes shimmered balefully. “Ms. Kanzelry.”

She steeled herself. Quickly, like a bandage. “She’s a prisoner. Of the Alliance.”

He scowled, different from his standard pout. It is the expression of a man with strong legs, a man with a ripening plan. "...that is complicating. Where."

“We're not sure where. Last we knew, they were somewhere in Ashenvale. Though they've got at least one person in Orgrimmar, that's how they got her.”

“The bombing? Do you believe Ter- Well. They. Are involved?” he asked. “Apparently a body was left behind.”

Kezrin frowned faintly. "We don't know where the bomb came from." She drops her voice again. "The Terra people were there on our behalf."

Liore stared down at Kezrin. Hard. “Is that so.”

Very good. Just admit that the AAMS hired mercenaries to infiltrate a city. She took a great interest in studying her shoes, avoiding his look.

A long pause. A sneeze. “Ashenvale, is it.”

She dared to look up and nod. “They’re denyin’ it, of course.”

The Inquisitor looked thoughtful. “Kezrin, if I commit, and the information is bad, there will be consequences. Good blood will spill. But I do not like the idea of sitting on our hands... She needs us. She needs to be returned to you.”

“We know she’s being held by someone out there.”

He frowned, sneezed again, then continued his plotting. “I need more, Ms Kanzelry. Tell me she is in the north, or tell me she is in the west. Ashenvale is not my jurisdiction.”

They were interrupted momentarily by Braedori, who waited for a pause in the conversation before leaning in to tuck a wad of handkerchiefs in Lio's armor and a muttered. "St-stop p-pouting!"

Liore grunted. He focused briefly, setting the handkerchiefs ablaze with a baleful black flame. "That will be the day, Magistrix."

“Brae,” she corrected. The AAMS mage let Kezrin know that she and the others were leaving the Salon. Brae smiled brightly at them both, nodding at Lio. "G-good to see you again, even p-pouting."

Liore scowled a fraction deeper, watching the Magistrix leave. He sighed through his nostrils, then looked back at Kezrin. “You look tired.”

“Yeah. Jus’ can’t sleep much.”

“Make the time, and the effort. Rest. I will look into Ashenvale myself. I can spare some of my agents. If we find her, what would you have me do?”

She fidgeted, realizing that he expected her to make a decision. She wondered if she could sneak away and call the bossgnome.

“Ms Kanzelry. A member of the Inquisition is free to take up whatever casework, whatever task he deems appropriate, until the Alliance are involved-”

“We jus' want her safe and brought back, y'know?”

“Well. That is more like it.”

“If ya find her, let us know? Or if ya get proof that's she's really being held, so we can get her free…”

“If I find her, Ms Kanzelry, I will return her to you myself. I would not leave a member of our Horde in Alliance hands. No matter how cordial. However… To keep her from the reach of the Kor'kron, I will have to detain her myself, officially.”

“Ya will?” she asked. “Not that I want her in their hands.”

Liore raised his metal palms. "Only officially. She will be free to come and go as she pleases, between the Undercity and Silvermoon, though she will have a unit of guard attending her. For all intents and purposes, under arrest. But she will be free to do as she pleases. That should keep them quiet, at least until they catch on. But by then, I hope, you will have conjured up something more... enduring."

She nodded slowly. “I think we can arrange somethin’.”

“This, of course, provided she is actually in Ashenvale. And she is actually unharmed. And she is actually willing. Too many actuallys, but it beats the alternative.” He rubbed the back of his neck.

Kezrin nodded again, looking back to where the last of the couriers were departing. Gathjin and Lucy were still there, with the empty snowball cooler, but everyone else had departed. “I’d best be goin’.” She started to turn away.

“Oh, and Kezrin,” Liore called out to her. His eyes hardened as she looked back, into two fel-burning suns. “I’m watching.”

Life wasn’t fair.

She could just glimpse the lights through the trees, and the faint sounds of music drifting in the wind. Out in the woods surrounding the Darkmoon Faire, there was little but shadow and the rustle of leaves.

One rustle drew her attention. Commander Orwyn of the Stormwind Watch entered the clearing near the ruins, looking around from his horse. Vallandi stepped into the open.

"Hey, there," she greeted, smiling brightly at him.

He regarded her cautiously. "Good evening. Whom am I addressing?"

"Same to you. Thank you for coming." She held up her hands, palms empty. "Vallandi Haywood."

He looked around one more time before dismounting. "You're here on behalf of your commander?"

"I am."

"Anyone else here you would like to tell me about?"

She turned her head to the left, then to the right. "Should I be asking the same?"

He chuckled. "You're the one who invited me, and picked the location. I assume you know how these sorts of meetings work."

"Yes, which is why I'd be rather surprised if you just walked here blindly."

"Very good. Now, with the appropriate level of respect established, what do you want?"

She tilted her head thoughtfully, delaying her answer. "My commander wishes to send word of a possible traitor who may be in Stormwind."

"And why would that require a meeting out here? He could've come to my office with that concern."

"I'd rather not tip off his associates in the city that we're meeting with you."

"A whole network, eh? Interesting. What is this traitor supposed to be up to?"

Vallandi took a steadying breath. "He's interfered with our operations in Kalimdor, assualted an officer, and has known Horde contacts."

"So, you need help determining who he is?"

"No," she said, an edge creeping into her voice. "I know exactly who he is. I believe you, do, too. Kordrion Stoneheardt."

Orwyn rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "How about you tell me all that you know then."

"We've suspected for a while that someone has been feeding the Kor'kron information on Alliance movements. I have been trying to track the source of the leaks. My investigation lead me to watching the AAMS office in Orgrimmar, around the same time the Kor'kron figured it out, too. I've seen evidence with my own eyes of him and his order hiding their tracks."

"What does the AAMS have to do with Mr. Stoneheardt?"

"He's often been seen visiting the AAMS offices, and is a personal acquaintance of their CEO."

"Hmm, I suppose you'll be after me, next, then." She could tell he was skeptical. "If the AAMS was a conduit for information TO the Horde, why did they destroy the AAMS office?"

"The AAMS is a threat both ways; there was talk that the AAMS was reconsidering its relationship with the Horde, and aligning itself solely with the Rebellion."

"Have we received any intelligence about the Horde via AAMS?"

She smiled slightly. "The sources of our our intelligence is need-to-know."

"Well, if you expect me to take this seriously, I'm now on that list. So." He simply stared at her.

"We went to Stoneheardt, to gauge his loyalties. When he was confronted with what we've learned, he assaulted our commander and fled."

"Sounds typical." Orwyn didn't seem at all moved by her declaration. " You didn't answer my question about whether AAMS has provided you with any information."

"I gave you the only I answer I can."

"That's not the same as telling me all that you know."

"It's need-to-know," she sighed in frustration. "I work the front lines, not a safe desk job."

He nodded. "Well, here's the thing. If your commander is serious about getting my help, he'll need to put all his cards on the table with me. If instead he just wants someone who will follow whatever trail he throws down, without evidence, than I suggest he go to SI:7. Except I imagine he did that first, and they screwed up, which is now why you're talking to the Watch."

He stared pointedly at her. She shifted her weigh, planking her hands on her hips.

"So, you can give your commander my regards, and if he wants to talk seriously next time, I'll be happy to oblige."

"I was coming to you for help. The Watch has different resources. I know for a fact that Terra Incognita was involved with the destruction of the AAMS office, and even if you don't believe that, he's still needs to answer for assault."

"The Watch is always happy to help the military authorities, but we can't do our job without full access to all the evidence. I'm sure the commander would expect only our best efforts, after all."

"There's little I can bring you in solid evidence except my own observations and what we've learned. But I'm giving you plenty of probable cause to keep and eye on him. Learn for yourself."

He seemed to consider her request at last. "Well, in that case, we can definitely turn our attention to the situation."

She nodded, mollified at the concession. She knew now why Kordrion did not agree to help; Orwyn, while being difficult. at least was willing to consider her words.

"Is there anything else?" he asked.

"Not at the moment."

"I'll look forward to our next meeting, then."

"It's much better when we're working together."

"It is. What is your rank, by the way?"

She smiled brightly again. "It's Private Haywood."

"Good evening to you, then, Private Haywood."

She saluted him respectfully, then walked away from the clearing, slipping into the shadows at the first opportunity. Donaby was waiting.

Derscha was laying on her stomach on her office carpet, working on one of her ledgers when Kordrion let himself in, barely pausing to knock on the door first. “We need to talk,” he declared. “Orwyn is going to be looking to talk to you.”

“Oh?” She pushed herself up into a sitting position. “Something happen? He’s just about the only Alliance authority I haven’t had difficulties with. Chair?” There may not have been a desk in her office, but she still kept chairs pushed into the corner for the occasional visitor.

“You could say that.” Kordrion shook his head at her offer, instead sitting on the floor near her. “It seems the military doesn't seem all too happy about me taking off without filling out the right forms in triplicate or whatever. They talked to Orwyn, and he's trying to figure out what's going on. Sounds great, till you hear that he thinks we should turn Arrayah over to him when she's rescued for due process...like she's the criminal. I flat up told him that was not going to happen and you can sort of guess where it went from there.”

He sigh in frustrations. “So he’s going to be putting it to you next.”

She rapped her pen against the ledger a few times. “Arrayah's neither an Alliance citizen nor a criminal.”

“Exactly.”

“This is a rather interesting developement,” she said slowly, “as one of the Silvermoon Inquisitors has made the same request."

He snorted and leaned back on his elbows. “At least they’re on the right side.”

“If she's in Inquisitor Boodwing's custody, there is the potential of being within the Kor'kron reach. If she's held by the Alliance… well, we have already seen how that has worked out so far."

“I'm thinking it would probably be best if my team retreated to the shadows to help on this and let the Horde take the forefront of the rescue. Donaby has already proven he can stir up trouble for us and while we are not beholden to the alliance...we require being able to trade with them for supplies.”

Derscha slowly nodded. “I wouldn't ask you to risk yourselves more than you have."

“You should know me by now to know that doesn't mean we won't be involved. We just won't be seen.”

“That's very well and good, but if you're not seen, I'm not paying," she grinned briefly.

He tapped his chest with a dramatic flair. “Oh, ouch.”

“You've been of tremendous help, even if not in the way you'd expected. I'll just have to deal with Orwyn when he catches me."

“I'm glad,” he said with a chuckle, “even if my dignity wound up taking the fall for it all.”

“Well! Not much of it to ding up, anyway?”

He gave her an affronted, yet rueful look. “I suppose so.”

“Anything else?”

“No, I suppose that’s about it. I should get back.”

“Do be mindful of strangers this time.”

He stood from the floor, dusting himself off. “You need to get yourself a new desk, Derscha.”

“But it wouldn’t have my nameplate.”

“Could get a new one?”

Dersch eyed him, with a look that clearly said That’s Not How It Works.

He held up his hands placating, backing up to the door. “Right. Wouldn’t have your nameplate.”

“Exactly.” She smiled sweetly at him.

He chuckled and slipped out the door.

Kezrin was getting bored spending all day doing paperwork. Her hands were cramping from the need to hold a pen. Her eyes grew heavy from the lack of sleep; she’d run out of the sleeping potion Llejna had given her.

And yet the stacks steadily grew, inching upward toward the ceiling like one of the bossgnome’s potted plants.

So she gave up. No one so far had seemed to notice she’d not replied to the twenty memos on Silvermoon import laws. Instead, she found a new hobby: paper gliders.

The paper stock used in Ironforge was too heavy for a good glider, she soon discovered. Files sent from the Ratchet offices were much more suitable, as they had a thinner paper with a better weight-to-wing ratio.

She took her time folding each glider. Precision folds were key. A tiny variation in the angle of a wing could send a glider tumbling into the ground. She worked on various permutations, giving one a larger tail, or the next a narrower nose.

Gradually, they started to gain distance on each flight, until the ninth glider hit Arrayah’s office door. So she opened the door. The AAMS Express Mark 10 and 11 sailed out the door and into the hallway before coming to their untimely demises.

Her twelfth glider showed much promise. Slick and sleek, there was something about its look that said just right. She carefully hefted it in her hands and let it fly.

Number Twelve sailed gracefully through the air, past the Mark 11, and-

-right at Kordrion’s head as he exited Derscha’s office.

Kordrion paused in mid-step as the glider zoomed past his head. He turned around, searching for its source. At the end of the hallway was the open door to Arrayah’s office. He could see her desk, topped by several stacks of paper.

Along the floor was the trail of gliders.

Curious, he picked up the gliders and headed into the office. There seemed to be no one present. He perked a brow, noticing the chair was pushed far away from the desk. Slowly, he walked around the corner and peered underneath.

“Uh, hi.” The goblin tucked underneth sheepishly waved. “Um. It didn’t hit ya, did it?”

He snorted in amusement, then held out the papers to her. “No.”

She stared dumbly at the gliders and slowly reached out to take them “Oh, good.” She fidgeted, having nowhere to put them. She settled for setting them on her lap.

He smiled a bit before touching his brow in lieu of a hat. She sighed in relief as he walked out of the office, calling over his shoulder, “That last one had some distance on it!”

There was no reply, except for the scrabbling of a chair and the office door slamming shut.

Vallandi sat by the edge of the water, waiting Kordrion's arrival, the feeling of her hearthstone pressing hard against her side. Donaby had surprised her with a message, sent via SI:7. Kordrion wanted to meet with her.

They were not going to refuse the meeting. Penn was nearby, as were a few other of Donaby's men. She scanned the nearby hills for signs of anyone approaching.

He didn't try to hide his approach. The large form of a drake landed in the clearing, rapidly shrinking into the small human form. He walked toward her, a set of folders tucked under his arm.

"I see you got the message."

"Same can be said to you," she replied tersely. She was through being friendly with him.

Kordrion wordlessly offered the folder to her. It looked harmless; she reached for it with a gloved hand. "And what is this supposed to be?"

"Just read it. It speaks for itself."

"I'm not here to read."

He sighed in exasperation. "Look. The information in there is only copied. You can go dig up the originals if you don't believe it but there's stuff you need to know. You all were never ordered to leave Pandaria, this isn't a sanctioned operation."

The folder shook in her hand. "You've been trying to turn me against my unit since we met."

"To be fair, I was more interested in not dealing with you when we met. You're being used, Vallandi, and not by me. If I was such a horrible person would I have risked this meeting to try and open your eyes?"

Not a sanctioned operation. The commander's insistence on closed communication. Why they had not turned over Greyson to command.

She hesitated to reply. "I don't know what you're up to." Unsettled, she glanced behind Kordrion… Penn and the other should've come out by now.

Instead, and animal howl echoed through the hills. A worgen in Terra Incognita's colors stepped out of the trees. "Your friends are asleep," Jon Harmarth informed her. "Nothing more."

He stalked over to Kordrion's side, then deliberated knelt down and set his daggers in the grass.

"I can't say I'm very surprised," she sighed. They had taken out her ambush, but there was still her hearthstone in her pocket, and its open line to Donaby. He would be sending backup in a few minutes.

"We aren't here to harm you," Kord said. "Just to talk. I assume you're at least seen my friend around here? This is Jon Harmarth, he's with SI:7, as well."

She shook her head. "To talk. And make me read?"

"I can't make you read. All I can do is request you do."

Harmarth sat down, settling several feet away from his weapons. "I did some sniffing around, and found documents related to Donaby's ‘sanction.’ They're in there along with other relevant details."

"All copies, I presume."

"I had to leave the originals where they were. They're still there if you want to verify later."

Kordrion watched her carefully, gauging her reaction.

“If this is true… why bring it to me?” She glared at him. If he had evidence, why was he wasting time talking to her and not turning Donaby in?

“You know why. I won’t risk her life just to take heat off my back.”

She placed a hand on her hip, near the pocket where her hearthstone rested. “I owe the Commander my life,” she said clearly, not quite keeping her tone even.

“And he’s making sure he wrings every inch of usefullness out of you.”

“And what are you doing?”

“Trying to open your eyes. I don't want you to end up dead when this all comes to a head.”

The folder remained in her hand, still unopened. “You’ve said your piece. Is that all you wanted?”

He was quiet a long moment before nodding. Harmarth gave her an encouraging nod at the folder. She held it up closer.

She could not look at it. If it were true, it would do her no good to look at it. If it were forgeries, then it was a waste of time. She turned her eyes back to Kordrion, tossing the folder at his feet.

“I’ll believe what I see with my own eyes.”

He silently picked it up. “You know how to find me if you change your mind.”

Harmarth stood up, pulling a small vial from a pouch and handing it to her. Its only contents was a rolled up piece of paper. She took the vial without a word, slipping it into a pocket.

She jerked her head to where she knew Penn’s post had been. “If they’re not as you say….”

Kordrion turned to Harmarth. “We don't kill people unless they are a direct threat. And they are not.”

The worgen nodded. “They're not at fault here. I just wanted to make sure we were safe, too. Worst they'll have is a cramp.”

“Let’s go.” Kordrion shifted back to his drake form, Harmarth saluting Vallandi as they departed.

“Ms. Kettlebomb,” Commander Orwyn greeted Derscha outside the Watch offices. “Good to see you.”

“It is? I should buy more mirrors.” She smiled cheerfully at him.

“It's in the eye of the beholder. I've heard that you may be less popular with other people these days.”

“Oh! Well… yes, that’s true.”

“Would you care to talk in my office?”

She nodded assent, and Orwyn escorted her inside.

“I’ve heard about the AAMS’ unfortunate position,” he begun. “I've even been asked to investigate the AAMS for spying. You know by whom?”

“Wouldn’t really blame you. And I have a fairly good guess.”

“Well, to get the formalities out of the way then... Is the AAMS involved in passing information about the Alliance military efforts to Garrosh's forces?”

Derscha did not fail to catch the exact wording of Orwyn’s question; not that anything certain couriers were doing in Razorhill were hurting the Alliance, anyway.

“Not by intention,” she answered. “If someone’s used the AAMS to aid Garrosh’s war efforts that way, it’s not with our knowledge.”

He nodded, then followed up: “Is AAMS involved in passing information about the orc's military efforts to the Alliance?” Another conveniently precise question.

“Hmm. Same answer, altering the relevant nouns.” She allowed herself a smile.

“Well, no one would know better than you,” he chuckled. “I’m convinced. However, it seems that Garrosh and a certain Alliance commander are skeptical.”

“I’d be happy to submit a notarized paper, if I thought it would help.”

“Not at this time, but thank you.” He shook his head. “Now, it's come to my attention that the commander has detained one of your employees. Correct?”

The thought of Arrayah imprisoned sobered Derscha’s mood, the quirk of her smile fading. “Yes. My manager, Arrayah Greyson."

“I’ve also heard that a rescue attempt is planned.”

“Ah. Well. In the vaguest sense of the word.”

“The idea is to remove her from their custody in some manner,” he clarified. “True?”

“Oh! Yes! That would be true.”

“And then?”

She knew from Kordrion what was about to be suggested. “And then she's treated like any other member of my Horde branch, and goes home."

“And after that?”

“I imagine she'd probably find a nice book and take a nap.”

He chuckled at the joke, but was not deterred. “Ms. Kettlebomb, you're a reasonable person, and a good businesswoman. You understand how important public perception is to business, correct?”

“I do.” She waited for him to finish his argument.

“Public perception is also very important in regards to the law. Especially in grey areas. Oftentimes the most harmful thing an innocent person can do is disregard public opinion in their case. I want to help you avoid making that mistake, because it would be very serious in this particular case. Both to the AAMS, and the entire principle of wartime neutrality.”

She shook her head sadly. “Sometimes, a person's well being has to be accounted for. And I'm not sure just what the public opinion will be of the Stormwind military- and Commander Donaby- once the whole truth comes out."

Orwyn agreed, “There are few rules when it comes to war, but the ones we have should be respected. The truth must come out. And she must be rescued, I agree. However, the rescue can't be the end of it.”

He pressed his case forward. “If you simply free her, then Donaby, who currently has no evidence of any wrongdoing by AAMS will have something: Fleeing from custody. And he'll ride that very guilty appearance as far as it will go, which in the current circumstances of widespread distrust, is likely to be quite far. He'll get what he needs. AAMS' presence in Stormwind will be jeopardized, with the resulting negative effect on business.”

She turned her head upward, looking at Orwyn directly. “The military's denied several times now that she's in their custody, so there will be no 'fleeing.' In fact, I've recently been given evidence that Donaby is working independently. Or at least, outside of his authority."

He shook his head. “Something like this is always ‘independent’ until it looks like it's right. Then all of sudden it's official. There's no need to take a chance. Rescue her, and give her to the Watch. We've already been asked to investigate, by Donaby himself.

“However, we'll perform a real investigation. Donaby is brought down, AAMS looks like good citizens, and no one will try anything like this on the Alliance side again. To anyone.”

“I’d like to think so,” she said sadly.

“I believe it's our responsibility to make an example of Donaby. Even the military has to answer for their actions. The Watch has the public legitimacy to make sure that happens. I'll stake our reputation on it.”

She’d rarely seen Orwyn looking as serious as he did at the moment. If he had been the one to find Arrayah in Orgrimmar, she had no doubt that her friend would be safely home. The trouble came from all the men like Donaby.

She could see the truth in Orwyn’s words. The AAMS would be best served by following his advice. By doing everything they could to allay public fears and keep the trust of their customers. Putting Arrayah in his power was the right choice for the company’s well being.

And so was keeping the Orgrimmar office open as long as she did, endangering those who worked there. Andelia and others had recommended leaving, but Derscha, safe in Booty Bay, had decided to risk it anyway. The cold calculation of how to best risk her people’s lives for the sake of company goals gave her a chill. Arrayah was not a pawn.

“I’m sorry,” she said at last. “I’m not about to promise Arrayah's freedom for the sake of public image. It's not my place to make that decision for her. I'm not her commanding officer,” she added pointedly. “Just her friend.”

“Are you giving her a choice when it comes to the escape?”

“‘Removal from custody,’” she corrected.

“Your words, same question,” he echoed her earlier answer.

“I don't think we need to stay here and argue what we both know isn't important. If she wants to stay where she is, fine. But we know that's know she's not there by choice.”

“It is important, because if you don't give her a choice, you're taking responsibility for her and all that happens afterwards. Which means that you would also be justified in explaining the situation and bringing her to us. I hope that she will get to choose, because there is much riding on the decisions made during this ‘removal from custody.’"

He paused momentarily to let his point sink in. “We all must understand the possible repercussions. If she comes to us, she won't be the first innocent person who has come to us to have their name cleared from suspicion.”

She was silent for a long minute. “It'll be taken under consideration, but as of now... it's still speculative.”

He nodded. “Please think it over carefully. There's more at stake than just her freedom, or the AAMS' business.”

“Is that all, Commander?”

“Find a good lawyer,” he suggested, adding a smile.

She giggled in return. He meant well, she was sure.

“Have a good night, Ms. Kettlebomb.”

She left the Watch’s office, relieved to have the conversation over, and yet even more worried about her friend’s fate. Even if Arrayah were found and freed, it seemed it would only cause more problems for her.

Arrayah, wherever you’re being held, I’m doing my best for you.

There were nights that Lounge Night was more nerve wracking than others. That week was definitely a nerve killer.

Kezrin arrived early to make special preparations for her “guest,” only to find that Trenetir Moradinel had also arrived early. Wanting to talk to her. Lovely. Some business about delivering a letter to Stormwind, she discovered once Koudo had shown up as a witness to the transaction. At least her “guest” agreed with her opinion of him, calling him “Lord Unsavory” via the special stone she was carrying in her pocket.

It was quite distracting, going through the night knowing that Kordrion was lurking… somewhere… close. It put her on edge, being watched, even if she knew who it was and that he was friendly.

Benoite Dawnsong and Gezelda stopped by again, though unaccompanied. Usually it seemed like Liore Bloodwing could be found hovering nearby whenever Benoite visited. Kezrin asked after him and learned he had been delayed by business.

The Inquisitor did not show up until late in the night, immediately engaging in conversation with Benoite and the other guests. Twice Kezrin tried to ask if he’d step aside, for just a moment, please, if he would- wouldn’t it be nice to walk over here, perhaps?- and doing her usual job of completely failing in any sort of assertiveness.

She at last just gave up and leaned against the patio’s railing. The night had dwindled down to only a few people, mostly AAMS. Gath’jin and Taz were talking nearby, and Koudo also lingered near the railing.

“Oh, for Light’s sake, just be blunt and tell him I want to talk to him?” her guest whispered in exasperation over the stone.

“I’m tryin’!” she hissed back in frustration. She looked back to where Liore and Benoite were in conversation, straightening in surprise as they headed her way.

“Err, well,” Kezrin stammered at the two. “Been tryin’ ta find a chance ta tell ya- got a message- or rather, got someone here ta talk ta ya-”

“I know. If I might trouble you for some expedience, Ms Kanzelry.” Liore’s eyes focused behind Kezrin.

“Perhaps this is meant only for your ears, Inquisitor?” Benoite questioned.

Kordrion Stoneheardt stepped into full view, on the other side of the railing near Koudo. “You’re a long winded man, Inquisitor.”

“And you are very much human. Aren’t you. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Last I checked, I was very human indeed,” Kordrion agreed. “You owe it to a mutual problem that I thought you might enjoy a bit more knowledge on so that nobody who doesn't need to gets hurt. Yours or theirs.”

Kezrin did her best to slink into the background. “Now who’s long winded,” she said to herself. Gath’jin and Taz spotted Kordrion and moved over to join the group.

Liore’s posture was noncommittal, his usual broodishness. The illumination of his eyes, however, were distrustful, though interested. “Fine. What have you got?”

“The people you are going to be dealing with are SI:7 trained,” Kordrion said bluntly. “They've been hand picked by Sir stick-up-his-a ...er Donaby...for their loyalty to him and him alone. This venture is also not sanctioned at all by the Alliance military, though they are unwittingly funding it.” He paused reflectively. “Not all of them are bad people, just...not the brightest sorts.”

“SI;7 trained. Ex-spies? That does beggar the question, what would they want with Ms Greyson?”

“No, not ‘ex’. They are currently in SI:7 employ and are under the impression that this is a legitimate operation.”

“Grand,” Liore replied. “But it isn’t. Is it.”

“We have the ability to pull the rug out from under him, because of exactly that. It's not. You can see the obvious problems and why we have not yet, though.”

“Your blue tape can do little to hold back the red. That does answer a few things for me, actually. We've got Sentinels and Warsong troops to contend with. Any chance of getting the drop point cleared? I'd rather keep this clean.”

“Drop point?” Kordrion asked carefully.

“At the specified coordinates, of course. You didn't think we would tunnel our way in, did you?”

“Have to find them, first,” Kordrion answered dryly. “Though I do have someone on that now. We can do what we can, but I am already all but declaring war against the Alliance bureaucracy because I refuse to play by their rules in this. Rather not dig my people into more hot water.”

“Consorting with the Horde Inquisition. An interesting method, to be sure. We will uphold our part, Kordrion. We will return her.”

Kordrion nodded at that, then gave him a wry look. “Terra Incognita is a neutral organization. We consort with whom we will to get the job done, if there's just cause and the need. All I care right now is that is that she gets returned.”

“Do not misunderstand me. I have no love for your Alliance, likely less than yourself. I just do not want needless blood to spill. Leave the field to my kill-team. We will do the rest. You have my word.”

“Good enough for me, as soon as we find the location, I will see that you are informed of it and what assistance we can offer will be there. Once she is free we will also make sure that the...anomalies...come to light to hamper any retaliation that might come your way.”

Liore laughed humorlessly. “Just blame Garrosh. That is what the rest of us do.”

“Well…,” the human considered, “To be fair, it is indeed his fault, as we would not be here if not for him no? So sound reasoning in that. But, if you will excuse me I have a wife who is most likely wondering where I got off to.”

“We will hold our end, if for nothing else, than to not be outshined by... humans,” Liore said.

Kordrion sketched a quick brow before slipping away toward the jungle, avoiding Hardwrench’s guards. Liore sighed, softly, a sound unbefitting a war machine, almost sounding mortal.

“SI:7,” he said. “Son of a !@#$%.” He donned his hat, then adjusted his scarf. “And here I thought I’d actually have to work.”

Sneaking out of range of the Hardwrench guards was easier than sneaking in. He stepped out of the shadows of the jungle, looking satisfied. After a moment's pause to glance up at the moon, he pulled a small gemstone panther from a pouch.

Thwump. A blade embedded itself in a nearby tree trunk; it bore a handle trimmed in blue. Kordrion grew rather still, watching the dagger.

"Hello, Vallandi," he said quietly.

"Hello, Kordrion. No backup, today?" The voice came from somewhere nearby.

"I'm never without backup. You know that. To what do I owe this pleasure?"

"Imagine my surprise in seeing you, here, talking to the Horde."

"It's an AAMS event."

"Don't think we haven't noticed the Inquisitor's sudden interest in Ashenvale," she snapped back.

Kord tensed, placing the stone back in its pouch. "Oh?"

"Now I see you've been feeding him information." Over by the tree, to his left. She was growing careless.

"He's working towards the same goal I am, that's the only information I have given him."

"You're still aiding him," she accused, frustrated. "In finding us."

"Yes. Because you're unlawfully holding an AAMS member. What do you want, other than to lecture me?"

There was a slight pause. "I'm afraid I'm still under orders to bring you back."

There was a sudden sting on the back of Kordrion's neck, even as Vallandi stepped into sight. "I'm not without backup, either. And this time I remembered: extra strong."

Kordrion reached up to pull the dart from his neck, even as he sank to one knee. "I see," he murmured. He slumped against the tree, fighting against the drug. "Happy now?"

She stepped closer, shaking her head. "That's not what's important."

Kordrion made a noncommittal sound before slumping over, the stronger dose doing its job.

The room was small. Stone. No windows. A mage light illuminated the space from the corner with a steady, unflickering light. Bright, unyielding. He could not look directly at it.

Kordrion leaned against the wall, waiting. The room was slightly chill, but they'd taken his armor and all his other possessions, except for basic articles of clothing. Ketlan would not have been pleased if he'd lost his new shirt.

The door handled !@#$led. After a moment's pause, it swung open and an older human male stepped inside, looking down at Kordrion. Academic robes, thin framed and lean, and yet clearly at ease being in a room with a prisoner. He stood by the door in a reserved manner.

"Good day, Mr. Stoneheardt," Leo Othmar greeted simply. "I am here on behalf of a mutual acquaintance. I believe you may guess."

Kordrion nodded, wincing as his head protested the movement. "And what is Donaby after this time?"

"We need to know what information you've passed on to the Horde."

"And you know I won't tell."

"Commander Donaby was of that opinion. Which is why I am here."

The matter of fact tone alarmed him. "Who are you?" he asked warily.

"It hardly matters who I am."

The light from the corner dimmed. It did not falter, yet shadows began to flicker in the corners of the room. They eased toward Kordrion's position. He pushes himself hard against the wall, his eyes widening at the shadows.

"If would be best if you tried not to resist," Othmar calmly informed him. "It can be quite damaging otherwise."

Kordrion's futile struggles to void the shadows ceased; he froze in place, closing his eyes against the intruders. Othmar sighed in resignation.

The shadows swarmed over Kordrion, engulfing him in a darker black. Flashes of memories flew by, starting with the most recent one of the room, the meeting with Vallandi, then Hardwrench. He mentally pulled back, tried to flee into the recesses of his mind, but the shadowily tendrils wrapped themselves around his mind, holding him in place.

He stopped fighting, doing his best to blank his mind, wiping away the images of the goblins, the AAMS, the small crowd of guests drinking and chatting.

"Now, let's not be foolish," Othmar's voice drifted in from elsewhere. "We know you were talking to the Inquisitor."

Unbidden, a shadow apparition appeared in Kordrion's mind, a vague impression of blood elf figure. Othmar continued to pick at Kordrion's mind, filling in the details. His hair. The poisonous eyes. His brooding stance. At last, the figure of Liore Bloodwing was complete.

He began speaking, soundlessly at first, but soon the words and phrases were put into place. Without Kordiron's permission, his own voice joined in the conversation. The details of the memory cascaded into full bloom.

"I thought you might enjoy a bit more knowledge…"

"So?" Othmar mused. "They're planning on storming Ashenvale, hmm? What else do they know?"

More shadow figures appeared. A white haired goblin. A pudgy gnome in a white hat. A worgen, sitting sadly on a bench. Othmar rapidly searched through his head, growing careless in his search as he failed to find whatever memory he was searching for. Kordrion curled tighter against the wall, but didn't try to stop him.

A human female. Short hair, wearing healer's robes. A soft spoken voice, tinged with regret.

"Donaby had a way of raising everyone's spirits, of giving everyone confidence. When he praised you, you knew he meant it…."

The resistance returned as Kordrion fought fiercely to protect his memory of Ketlan. Othmar noted the subject and let the memory slide. Ketlan vanished into the darkness.

"But let us see whom else you've been discussing us with, shall we?"

A dagger with a blue handle. Vallandi phases into existence, a folder in hand and a distrustful expression. She, Kordrion, and Harmarth talking about Donaby's mission. Kordrion tried to pull away, but Othmar held him firmly in place this time, reviewing the memory. Vallandi glared at Kordrion, tossing the folder back at him without so much as looking at it.

"Hmm," Othmar said thoughtfully, the stone walled roomed coming back into focus around Kordrion. The shadows retreated, the mage light burning too brightly. Kordrion slumped against the wall, tipping over to his side. He glared at the other man.

Othmar pulled a handkerchief from a pocket, wiping the layer of sweat from his brow. "Still conscious?" he asked of Kordrion. "That is good. That is all I need for the moment. Have a pleasant evening, Mr. Stoneheardt."

Without another word or glance in his direction, Othmar left as serenely as he'd arrived. Kordrion shivered in the cold, slowly dragging himself into a corner to prop himself up.

The mage light continued its unwavering glare, and yet the darkness lingered.

Vallandi walked up the tower steps, balancing a plate with a small sandwich and some biscuits. They only had a few guards to spare to watch the tower, and they did not challenge her as she went to check on Kordrion.

She found him laying the the corner of his cell, legs pulled against his chest. He lifted his head at her entrance, giving her a tired looked.

"I'm not here to talk," she said immediately. "But I have food if you're hungry."

He nodded and slowly sat up, looking for more subdued and beaten than she'd seen him before, although there were no signs of physical trauma. She sat the plate and a skin of water, within his reach and backed away, leaning against the far wall. He ate quickly, not once glancing up at her.

She looked around at the bare room. "I'll at least see that you get a bedroll or something to sleep on," she offered.

He mumbled a quiet, "It's fine. They'll just think you're involved."

"If you insist," she said doubtfully.

He pushed the empty plate along the floor toward her, giving her a cautious look, as though wanting to ask a question.

She smiled, without humor. "Just ask it."

"What is he planning? To do with me, that is."

She shifted against the wall, uneasy. "I don't know," she admitted.

"Oh."

She picked the plate up. "I'll be back with some bedding."

"Why?" he gave her a confused look.

She pretended to not understand the question. "Because you'll be here for at least that long."

He started to say something, then held back. The two waited for either to speak.

"I hope our conversation didn't get you in trouble," Kordrion broke the stalemate. "When we talked at the stream."

She shook her head. "Commander Donaby was listening in over my stone, in case there were trouble. I wouldn't be here if he didn't trust me."

"I want to talk to Donaby."

"Why?"

"Because I want to make a deal. My cooperation, confessions, whatever he wants to leave my people out of whatever happens."

"I'll let him know," Vallandi said slowly. "No promises."