The Saga of Lupa'Jin

[Lupa]

Part 1: The Maelstrom

Lupa:
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The day was bright and breezy when Lupa boarded the boat in Ratchet bound for Booty Bay.Citadel was mustering for another assault on the ancient city of Zul' Gurub, that troll stronghold that was tainted with the presence of Hakkar.

The crew bustled with activity as the vessel slipped its moors and headed out to sea. Spending some time on the upper decks Lupa was lost in thought, reminiscing on her time spent in the fine company of Citadel. The clan had grown very strong in recent months and was poised for big things. With a sense of anticipation and eagerness Lupa went below to her cabin to sleep.

She fell into a dream of grand adventure. At times she was battling beside Torg and Oola for the cleansing of that dark school of magic known as the Scholomance, at others she was watching Tanks back as he engaged the priests of Zul’Gurub. She dreamed of fighting alongside Donkey in the snows of Winterspring, and slaying Silithids with Swithoof at her side in the sands of the hot south.

Brinthus, Toora, Lanson, Almalah, Barney, Bump, Aznaak, Uttu, Morbane, Karait, Skrag, Balrogg, Mustavus, Basherd, Bishon; the faces flew by in battles long past until all seemed to blend in Lupa’s head into one huge epic conflict.

With a start Lupa was jarred to wakefulness. Something was wrong! The ship was heaving and tossing violently. Up top she could hear the urgent shouts of the crew. As Lupa leapt out of her hammock and hit the deck, she immediately lost her footing and was slammed against the bulkhead of the cabin. Grabbing hold of the support beams, she managed to steady herself and made her way to the upper decks.

Outside it was chaos. The sky was a horrid, roiling mass of black cloud, torn apart frequently by blasts of lightening that had an unnatural, arcane hue. The seas were a boiling cauldron of wave and foam, tossing the tiny wooden boat as a leaf on a rapid river.

The crew was scrambling about in an unorganized panic, without any clear direction. A terrified goblin darted past her and Lupa shot out her arm to snag him. “What is happening!?” she shouted at the trembling figure.
“Its our Junior Navigator! He blew it! We strayed into the Maelstrom!” the goblin managed to spit out.

“Where is the captain?” asked Lupa. But she received no answer, as a huge wave slammed into the side of the ship, knocking everyone to the deck. Lupa saw out of the corner of her eyes several crew whisked overboard by the surge of water. She felt herself slipping towards the rail and grabbed hold of a deck eye just as her feet shot over the edge. She was still in this precarious position when she heard the dreaded sound of cracking boards. Directly underneath her the planks of the deck separated and in what deemed like seconds the ship disintegrated with the pounding it was taking.

Lupa felt herself thrown into the frigid waters of the angry sea. For a panicked moment all was dark and watery as Lupa was submerged and couldn’t tell up from down. With the knowledge born of a seafaring people Lupa knew she needed to remain calm and let her natural buoyancy work for her. She remained still and held her breath. After what seemed an eternity her head broke the surface of the violent waters. Directly in front her, Lupa saw what appeared to be a floating crate. She fought her way towards the debris and pulled herself up onto it.

Then all went black as consciousness slipped away…

It started as a whisper, growing in urgency, until with a shout the voice of her mother; Yayo’Jin brought her back to reality. “Reach Out!” it told her. Eyes still shut, Lupa reached out with her right hand and found sand. Slowly she opened her eyes and found she had been washed up on a beach. She was alive! But where was this place?

((OOC. Everyone eventually comes to this point I imagine. Right now circumstances in my life are such that I need to take a break from the game. I simply can’t dedicate the time right now to playing WoW to the degree I would like, or would need to for Lupa’s progression. I have been playing this game for 13 months now, and by far the past 7 has been the most rewarding and enjoyable experience in any game I have played. It is completely due to the fine folk in Citadel, and the other people I have met in game. My account is still active until mid April and Lupa isn’t dead, just lost at sea. There may be a time for her return in the future, but there is the possibility she is shipwrecked for good. Thank you all for the fun times and your comradeship. Torg, Oola, special thanks to you for your fine leadership and dedication to providing the unique environment that is Citadel. I will still be active on the website if you will have me and that way I can live vicariously through following your exploits. /salute ))

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Oola:

"Where is that darn troll?" thought Oola as she waited impatiently on the docks of Booty Bay for Lupa's boat to arrive. The others in the hunting party had already gone ahead to clear the way of any possible resistance from the Alliance. Everyone was so eager to spill Alliance blood, but Oola preferred to await the arrival of her friend. There would be enough bloodshed in Zul'Gurub.
Time passed by but still no sign of Lupa or the boat. While sitting on an empty crate on the dock, Oola noticed a commotion going on amongst the dockhands. She walked over to them and was able to pick out only parts of their conversation, "storm... wreck... washed away to sea...".
Oola rushed over to one of the dockhands and grabbed him by the shoulders, "What is this?! What news is there of the ship bound from Ratchet?".
"M'Lady, we just received news that the ship has run into foul weather! We fear that all may be lost!" replied the frantic goblin.
A numbness started to overtake Oola, but she quickly shook it off. "No time to be weak," thought Oola, "I must let the others know immediately so we can start a search party!"She called forth her mount and headed towards the rest of the party. She tried to fight back the tears as memories of Lupa flashed in her mind.
Oola was off her mount before it even came to a complete halt and rushed towards Torg and the rest of the hunting party. She told them of Lupa and the grave news. Aznaak, Brinthus, Lanson, Almalah, Bump, Morbane, Balrogg, Swifthoof, Donkey, Mustavus, Uttu, Karait and Tanks all stood there in silence, too shocked to speak. Torg was the first to speak, "We must find her. We shall not stop our search until we do. She is family and we take care of our own."

((OOC: Lupa, you will be GREATLY missed. I do hope that circumstances will allow you to return to us soon. I cannot imagine Citadel being what it is today without all you have done for it and all its members, going above and beyond. You will always have a place in Citadel and in our hearts. We shall not stop our search for Lupa... and will always leave a light on in the inn for her and hope that she finds her way back to us. /hugs ))

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Almalah:

The sun dipped towards the far horizon as it trudged along its daily journey, sending long shafts of light across the small clearing in the Vale. Almalah grimaced slightly at the dazzle of light and shifted her position to better watch the approaches leading into the place she and her fellow guildmates had chosen to wait for their errant companions.Stranglethorn Vale was beautiful but it was deadly as well and it was common to run into Alliance warbands both large and small.

"Aznaak's Law Number Four! Warlock's that pester Aznaak get their arm ripped off and beaten with it. By Aznaak! Hooah!"

Almalah stifled a chuckle at the mock outrage in Aznaak's voice. Apparantly Morbane was relieving his boredom by tormenting Aznaak yet again. Usually this involved the Undead warlock sending his imp to peer up Aznaak's cloak or trying to pick his pocket. While she cherished the restless energy of the younger races, their inability to just stand and _Be_ for more than a brief moment always amused her.

Suddenly a mounted rider burst through the vegetation into the clearing and hands that were reflexively snatching at weapons relaxed as everyone recognized the ravaged yet elegant form of Head Priestess Oola. It was obvious from her haste and her bearing that she bore dire news and Almalah realized just how dire as Oola tersely relayed the news of the disappearance of the little huntress Lupa.

She hadn't known Lupa long but it was impossible not to feel drawn towards the small Troll with her moonbright topnight, equally bright mind
and ferocious courage.

Listening to Torg's fierce declaration, Almalah turned her gaze towards the direction of the sea. "No, Torg." She thought, "No. It won't be that simple. There are greater forces at work here." The goblins were a distasteful race but their ability to navigate the Bay on set schedules was legendary and not in living memory could Almalah recall a storm rising from nowhere out on the normally placid waters. She suspected that it wouldn't be their job nor their fate to find Lupa but Lupa's to find them.Their job was to be ready for whatever it was that would be hard upon Lupa's trail. And ready...they would be.

((Lupa..not much I can say that hasn't been already said. I hope you can find your way back to play with us all. I've certainly enjoyed every chance I've had to group with you and read your stories.Whatever you decide, take care. I hope Fate smiles upon you.))

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Lupa:

"Well, its not the Hall of Valour, but it will keep the rain off at least."
Lupa took another step back to better examine the small hut she had built over the past few days. It wasn't pretty, nor perfectly shaped, but it seemed sturdy enough. Lupa had found a bamboo thicket not far from the beach she now called home, and the dense foliage of the jungle interior provided an abundance of large, waxy leaves that repelled the rains that seemed to fall every day until mid morning.

Satisfied Lupa took a meal break on a log next to the calendar tree she had created. 5 marks were etched into the rough outer bark of the tree trunk. Those 5 days were a blur of activity for Lupa. The first day after the storm was spent taking stock of her resources and combing the beach for wreckage, artifacts, and yes, signs of possible survivors other than herself. She found some of the former but none of the latter. Indeed she did find a few bloated remains of some goblin crew.

Her inventory of items was meager. But things could certainly have been worse. Miraculously she still had her bow and about 600 jagged arrows. The arrows she could ration, indeed manufacture if she needed out of the materials on hand. She had retained one of her axes, and found her skullplitter axe down the beach the other day. However, gone were all her engineering tools and the blasting powder she carried for making explosives. Also gone was all her food and fresh water. Fortunately Lupa had been taught as a child in Revantusk village how to make fishing poles, fish tidal wiers and nets out of tough plant fibers. She had a pole already made and was almost finished the tidal wier in a nearby lagoon. The net would take time.

For fresh water Lupa made use of the daily rains, using dug basins to capture it. Just yesterday however Lupa found a fresh water stream coming from the high rocky interior of the island, cascading in a waterfall into a verdant pond just 15 minutes walk from her base camp. It reminded Lupa of the waterfalls and pools of Feralas, so lush was the greenery surrounding the oasis.

There was fruit aplenty in the jungle trees and Lupa heard the unmistakeable sounds of wildlife deeper inside the Jungle. Soon would come a time for exploring the interior. For exploration was a must if Lupa wanted to try to return to the continents. The one item she hoped to find above all others seemed lost forever, her Hearthstone. Without it she could not tap into the magical energies to transport her back home, nor communicate with her clansfolk and ask for help. Lupa was on her own, unless there was some intelligent community inhabiting these islands she could make contact with; hopefully with the knowhow to navigate the seas, and hopefully not hostile.

From studying the stars Lupa could determine she was somewhere midway between Kalimdor and the coast of Stranglethorn Vale. She knew from her histories that in ancient times the continents were all contected, that these islands were probably all that remaind of the lands swallowed in ages past. "Troll lands" thought Lupa. The Gurubashi once inhabited these lands of old, maybe some remenants still survived the great cataclysm.
With the vow to begin exploring her new adopted home tomorrow, Lupa began to set up her sleeping area inside the hut..

[Lupa]

Part 2: The Island


The southern sun was hot on Lupa's neck as she adjusted the pack on her back and resettled her quiver, bow and axes. What pieces of her valuable mail armour she had managed to retain or recover Lupa had wrapped up in waterproof leaves and cached in a dry, hidden cave she had found near the waterfalll and pool just south of her beach camp.

The going through the dense undergrowth of the island jungle would make mail impractical. Instead Lupa had stripped down to her barest undergarments and fashioned a loincloth and halter out of her scarlet Citadel tabard. "Torg would understand" thought Lupa. Indeed the way she looked now would probably draw favourable glances from her former male associates, who had always seen her fully encased in the layers of armour and regalia of a Citadel soldier.

http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y266/toxctii/lagoon.jpg

With the sun at her back, Lupa began the trek into the interior of the island. The ground rose steeply after a time, confirming Lupa's suspicions that there was a prominent hill or mountain at the island heart. Such a vantage point would give Lupa a panoramic view of her surroundings.

SUre enough, the foliage became gradually less dense as Lupa gained altitude, until she broke from its cover and beheld a rocky peak towering before her. The sun was starting to dip towards the west, which meant Lupa had just enough daylight left to make the summit, take a good look around, then regain the cover of the jungle as darkenss fell. Lupa decided to quickly set up a camp before her ascent, to avoid fumbling around in the dark should an unforseen delay cause her to return from the summit late.

The ascent was easier than expected, indeed Lupa found a well worn goat trail that brought her almot to the very top. With a final push, Lupa gained the summit, took a swig of her water and scanned the 360 degree view. As she suspected the island was not large, but in the eastern distance she saw the unmistakeable shadow of another island. "So, this is a chain it would seem', thought Lupa.

As she finished her examination of her surroundings, Lupa gathered up her gear and began the descent to her lower camp.

"What was that?!'

Just as Lupa had turned to head down the goat path, a flash of orange had caught her eye to the south. Lupa squinted at the shoreline there, and saw the unmistakeable sign of a bonfire being flashed up. " So it would seem I'm not alone", whispered Lupa to herself. " Question is, who are my newfound southern neighbours, and do they welcome company?"

Lupa would have to know...

[Danyxandra]

(( :( You will be greatly missed. I hope you can come back in the future))

[Brakogar]

((well Lupa is not really gone as long as she writes her stories. We have more freedom to develop our characters and stories through our writings than within the game.

Lupa, I think that continuing Lupa's life through TNG stories was a great idea, we can all now read of your adventures in far away places. As soon as order in my guild is restored, everytime we speak or refer to Lupa, it will be based on one of your latest adventures to keep you alive in the game.

In the end you have not really left))

[Lupa]

Part 3: "The Natives are Restless"

The sun had set an hour earlier as Lupa crept silently through the jungle tickets towards the orange glow filtering through the underbrush. Lupa turned to instruct her Worg, Tempest to wait while she proceeded onward alone. With a pang of angst, Lupa remembered that Tempest was not with her. The great wolf had not made it to shore with her. Tempest had been her faithful companion for so long his presence was still fresh in her mind, and Lupa thought on him often.

There were no great beasts on the island other than the goats that foraged the upper slopes of the interior mountain, so Lupa had nothing to tame as a hunting companion. She had tamed one of those little apes she saw flittering between the the branches near her little cove to the north, but that was only as amusement. The little tailed creature was not suitable for anything other than retrieving fruit for her from the upper branches. She had released the creature after a while.

As Lupa neared the edge of the forest cover, her trained senses detected the scent of a familiar adversary; Murlocs!

Emerging from the forest edge, Lupa was able to see the whole beach area before her. There was a sizeable Murloc village, enough to house a hundred or so of the creatures. A large bonfire had been set to blaze in the village commons. There, tied to a stake, was a young, dishevelled looking orc! There was little doubt in Lupa's mind that this orc was meant to be the main course in the Murloc's feast.

With a trained eye, Lupa began to formulate a rescue plan. That this orc needed rescuing was a no-brainer. Not only was his situation desperate, but most importantly, Lupa needed to find out all she could about him. "Who was he? How did he get here? Are there others?"

Supressing her excitement (he might only be another shipwreck survivor after all, she didn't know all the passengers on her vessel), Lupa prepared her plan. Murlocs weren't the most intelligent creatures, by nature they were easily startled and distracted. That was the key to Lupa's plan, which was quite simple really.

Sneaking around the perimiter of the village to the west, Lupa managed to enter one of the outer huts undetected. As she suspected, everyone was at the commons getting ready for the feast. In a matter of minutes Lupa found what she was searching for, flint and lamp oil. She wrapped several arrows on some cloth she tore from the hut's beddings, doused them on oil and set flint to the steel of her axe. The first arrow caught flame and with that Lupa ignited the others. Then in quick succession Lupa launched an arrow at all the nearby huts.

Lupa dashed back to the shelter of the forest as the dry twiggy huts whooshed up in flame. It was only a matter of seconds before she heard the warbling cries of distressed Murlocs coming from the village center. Working her way quickly back to the commons, Lupa saw that her distraction had succeeded beyond her hopes. Every Murloc in the area had run to investigate the fires, leaving the young orc unattended. But that wouldn’t last long before some fish-head would come to his senses and return to secure their supper. Lupa would have to act fast.

Running into the commons Lupa drew her axe and in one swift stroke cut through the ropes binding him to the stake. In a few seconds more she managed to slice off the remaining bonds. The orc looked in a sorry state, but had enough life in him to look at Lupa in amazement and surprise. “ No time for talk”, whispered Lupa, “ we go now”.

Lupa made to run back into the forest the way she had come when the orc brought her up short, “ No, not that way, follow me. I have a boat”.

With that the orc ran off to the eastern edge of the village. Cursing under her breath, Lupa pursued him. A small path led into the jungle along the beach. The orc was just ahead of her when Lupa heard the alarm go up behind her back in the village. The Murlocs had discovered their dinner was gone, and Lupa was sure they would not be pleased with that.

After what seemed like an hour but was probably only minutes, the pair emerged from the jungle on a small stretch of sand looking towards the eastern shore of the island. There was a small sailing skiff pulled up on the beach. The young orc was already making to shove off when Lupa saw three dark shapes emerge from the water and rush him. Murloc patrol!

In one fluid motion Lupa notched an arrow on the run and let fly at the closest murloc. The bowstring sang and the arrow thudded home into the murloc’s skull just as it reached the skiff. It froze in mid thrust of its trident, arrow shaft quivering between its bulbous eyes, and dropped to the sand like a flopping halibut. The other two murlocs changed their path to intercept Lupa, obviously the greater threat. Lupa charged them, slinging her bow on her shoulder and drawing both axes. With a sweeping blow, Lupa wing clipped the nearest murloc, catching him under his outstretched arm. The creature screamed in agony and dropped his upraised spear. Not pausing in her track Lupa fell upon the last murloc, burying her axe in its skull. Spinning in place, she made a return swing with the off hand axe on the wing clipped murloc, shearing the head from its stumpy neck.

Lupa turned to the youth, who stood there with a stupefied expression on his orc face. ” We best be shoving off”, Lupa suggested. In the distance she heard the unmistakeable sounds of pursuit coming down the jungle path. Roused from his trance, the orc shoved off the skiff and Lupa climbed aboard. None too soon they hoisted the little sail as the beach quickly flooded with angry torch-bearing murlocs.

Lupa appraised her young companion. He was nearing adulthood, but had the look of one who has endured a hard life at sea. He steered the skiff with practiced ease towards the east, and the island Lupa had seen from the mountain top earlier that day.

”What is your name young orc?” asked Lupa. After a moments pause the orc answered ”Mudd, that’s what they call me”.

”And who is ‘they’?” Lupa countered. ”My family, over on Turtle Island”, the orc pointed east towards the coastline they were approaching. Lupa found herself wishing she had asked him to steer north up the coast of her little island to retrieve her armour cache, but she didn’t want to give away her secrets just yet.

With a shudder the skiff grounded on the sandy shore of what the orc had called “Turtle Island”. Come, follow me to meet my family”, he motioned, and set off into the bush after tying up the little boat next to several others Lupa had noticed. Lupa took four steps up the path when she sensed shapes around her. With a curse she grabbed her axes, just as several bodies threw themselves from the darkness at her. She swung at the first outstretched arm, feeling rather that seeing the satisfying crunch of snapping bone and separating tissues. Her return swing glanced off a chain mail vest of another nearby assailant. Too late she heard the whistle of a bludgeon cutting the air behind her. A blinding flash of stars filled her head as the club connected with the base of her skull, sapping her. As Lupa collapsed, she felt rough hands grabbing her from all corners, she saw the slightly apologetic face of Mudd, peering at her from between her assailants legs.

Then all went black…

[Lupa]

Part 4: The House of Torment

"Run Lupa!", shouted Sal, her childhood friend. "They're angry now". It was a favorite pastime of theirs, baiting the Snapjaw turtles on the beach near their village of Revantusk. But this time they miscalculated. The massive turtles were swarming and little Lupa was cornered. Lupa tried to run between an opening between two large turtles, but felt a searing pain as one clamped its jaw on her left leg. Lupa yanked at her leg, but the turtle held her fast in its iron grip. A second turtle snagged her other leg at the ankle. They began a macabre tug of war with little Lupa at the prize. The others were closing in and Lupa heard Sal cry out in fear as a large turtle claw slammed her head into the sand. She couldn’t breathe…

Lupa opened her eyes, only to see she was face down in the sand. Her head swam with pain and there were spots dancing around her vision. Gradually her vision cleared and she was able to raise her head to look around. Immediately she became aware of the fact she could not move her arms or legs. A quick glance over her shoulders revealed that she had been staked out belly down in a spread eagled fashion, arms and legs shacked to iron rings set into wooden posts driven into a dirty, hard packed sand floor. An initial attempt to test the fastness of her bonds resulted in searing pain shooting through her body.

Giving up her attempts at pulling free, Lupa scanned her surroundings. She was in the center of a ring shaped enclosure, stone walls rose to a height of thirty feet or so. All along the walls were affixed iron shackles, eyebolts and various hooks on which hung every conceivable instrument of torture she had heard of, and some she knew not the purpose of. But Lupa had a sinking suspicion that she would find out eventually.

Raising her head, she looked up and saw the enclosure was covered with a shabby, thatched roof of the style found in many troll villages. The high noon sun was beating down and making the entire place as hot as a dragonkin den.

”Well, I see our ‘guest’ has risen finally,” growled a harsh voice from behind her where she could not see. ” Wake up sleepy head!” Suddenly Lupa was doused with icy cold water, the shock of which almost sent her back into unconsciousness. There followed a cruel laugh in a different voice. “Two of them at least”, thought Lupa.

Gradually Lupa saw two thick green legs come around into her field of vision. Looking up, Lupa saw a hulking, steely grey haired, hard muscled orc before her. He was dressed in a filthy leather tunic, old sandals and carried a large wooden bucket in his hand. A large scar ran over his face directly over his right eye, which was clouded over with a whitish, putrid looking growth.

”Welcome to the House of Torment. I am Grolsch, your host. I do hope your stay with us will be uncomfortable.” Lupa tried to speak, but her throat was too dry to form any words. All she was able to get out was a raspy croak.

”Oh please, no thank you necessary, we aim to accommodate all our guests for as long as they are with us. Sadly, most depart our company far too soon, before we can get to know each other in a meaningful way.” Another laugh emanated from the cruel sounding voice behind her.

” We will get to chat, you and I, in time young trolless. But for now, let us offer you a sample of what our spa has to offer.” With that Grolsch turned to one of the rows of hanging implements and after a moment thought selected a multi-tasseled whip with the attitude of an artist choosing a favorite paintbrush. Returning to Lupa, Grolsch rumbled, ” You look tense, let me soften you up a bit.”

The first sting of the whip across her lower back shot through her like knives and Lupa clamped her jaw shut against the pain. It suddenly occurred to her that she was naked. Oddly, this distressed her more so than the whipping, which continued for what seemed an eternity. Eventually, Lupa’s mind faded back into the darkness. Her last thought as she drifted from wakefulness was satisfaction that she had not uttered a single scream.


How long she was out Lupa couldn’t say. It was the voices that brought her back. A smattering of conversation drawing nearer. ”..so Tormakk sent Praks an his hunters after the beast. That was two days ago. They still be missin. The tenders up the slopes says they be loosin more sheep every night these past two weeks. That’s when the first sighting of the monster was.” It was the laughing voice. Grolsch’s deep growling baritone followed; ” It is strange, and at this rate our flocks will be decimated if we don’t do nuthin. Tormakk needs to think about sending a larger huntin party I wager. Ah! Looks like our guest is back with us.”

Lupa opened her eyes and found that she had been moved from the sandy floor and chained upright against the wall by her arms. There before her was Grolsch, looking filthy as before, and a sneering flame-haired troll with large curved tusks. Laughing Voice, surmised Lupa. The troll was leering at Lupa, taking her in the sight of her chained and unclothed body with unabashed relish. Grolsch on the other hand looked at her with detachment.

” It would seem you are a lucky one young trolless,” barked Grolsch. “Tormakk wants to see you.”

”Dat be a shame!’ chuckled the troll. ”Kozz was lookin forward ta getting to know you better.” The troll approached Lupa and brought his face close to hers. His put his rough, calloused hands on her body and started exploring. Quick as a viper, Lupa thrust her head forward and buried her tusks deep into the muscle at the base of the troll’s neck. Kozz screamed out in pain and rage, tried to pull free but was held fast. He started to pummel Lupa in an attempt to break her hold on him. With one final heave backwards, Kozz tore himself free, losing a portion of his skin and muscle in the process. In a fury he drew a long curved dagger from his belt and took one pace towards Lupa. A large green hand clamped down on his wrist, snapping the bone.

”Enough!”, shouted Grolsch. ”Tormakk wants her in one piece. Besides, you deserved that Kozz.”. Releasing his grip, Grolsch approached Lupa, undid her shackles and dropped a bundle at her feet. Its was her halter, belt and loincloth. ”Get dressed, then follow me. Tormakk doesn’t like waiting”.

Lupa dressed herself and fell in step behind Grolsch. Passing Kozz, she tossed him a defiant look. He answered it with a hiss and a glare of pure hatred….

[Lupa]

Part 5: The Blackfang Corsairs

Mudd was in a state of mental turmoil. The young orc warrior had tried to run ahead to warn off the sentries at the small boat docks he and Lupa had tied up to four days earlier. That the strange troll woman had surely rescued him from a certain death was no small debt he owed her. However he had miscalculated their positions and numbers. Afterwards he had learned that an entire squad of 10 had been on site preparing to set sail over to Murloc Island to learn of Mudd’s own whereabouts as he was late for his duty watch onboard The Wyvern.

Luckily his commander had listened to his story and was awarded an audience with Commodore Tormakk, to intervene on the trolless’ behalf. Tormakk, always on the lookout for fresh troops to replenish the Corsairs’ losses had seen the wisdom of sparing Lupa the standard treatment at the hands of Grolsch, the head inquisitor and offering her the regular service contract. Hehe! Thought Mudd. “Contract” was the Commodore’s way of saying ”serve us and earn your freedom, or else... The Commodore had a talent for getting people to do what he wished, through whatever means possible.

Mudd paced the anteroom of Tormakk’s command fort. The entire harbour town of Exile Bay was build on the site of an ancient troll city of the Gurubashi empire. Not much was left on these south sea islands of that once expansive civilization, but Exile Bay was dotted with stone ruins. The Commodore’s command fort was built on what was the stone foundation of what appeared to have been a temple or ziggurat of some sort. The portion above the stone foundation and walls was modeled after Thrall’s Command Hall in Orgrimmar, whether out of homage to its functionality or in subtle mockery Mudd couldn't say.

He had heard Grolsch was leading Lupa to see Tormakk this day and Mudd was hoping to snatch a few words with her before the hearing. He half expected that she would be as likely to take his head off with her bare hands as soon as look at him. She had been under Grolsch’s tender care for 3 ½ days now and that could not have been pleasant. Hopefully his psychotic little lackey, Kozz wasn’t left alone with her. More prisoners seemed to have “accidents” when left unsupervised with Kozz than at any other time.

The two huge Tauren guards on either side of Tormakk’s inner chambers shifted stance slightly, becoming perceptively more alert. They must be approaching..

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Lupa was examining her surroundings during the walk to see this “Tormakk”. She was at first surprised that Grolsch left her unfettered to follow behind him, without an armed escort. But as they proceeded she saw the reasoning behind that act. They were walking through a village armed to the teeth. Everyone she saw was sporting weaponry of various types and functions. Guard towers with archers dotted the terrain, which sloped steeply down an embankment towards a little cove, in which Lupa could see three large sailing vessels at anchor. The village itself was a mix of troll and orcish architecture, built among what Lupa immediately recognized as ancient trollish ruins.

Each step Lupa took was like a spike of flame shooting through her frame, but she forced herself to ignore the discomfort. Holding her head high, she met the curious or semi-hostile looks she received from the populace square on; most of whom turned their faces away first to her grim satisfaction.

”Welcome to Exile Bay”, said Grolsch over his shoulder. ”Home to the Blackfang Corsairs”.

Lupa was not familiar with the name. She had dealings in the past with the Bloodsail Buccaneers, mostly at the end of her arrows. They were mostly Humans, with a few Dwarves and Gnomes tossed in. These “Corsairs” looked to be Horde, specifically orc and troll. No undead or Tauren faces did she see among the villagers, and there seemed to be a normal mix of male and female. Even some children ran past her in a giggling mob at one point, getting into whatever mischief children do.

At length Grolsch led her up a ramp to a large stone encircled hall, made in the orcish style. Over the large entrance hung a banner of red/orange. Centered on the banner was a large, black snake head, mouth agape.

Entering the hall, Lupa caught her first sight of Taurens in the village, one huge armoured guard on either side of the entrance to the inner chambers. A male and a female. Probably mates, thought Lupa, as she had seen no others. A cough to her left caused her to turn her head, to see Mudd standing there with a nervous look to his face. A flush of hot anger rushed through Lupa at the sight of her betrayer. Grolsch interrupted her thoughts, telling her to wait as he went on through the tapestries hanging across the entrance.

As the flaps closed down after Grolsch, Mudd took a few steps towards Lupa. The Tauren guards looked on impassively. He cleared his voice to speak when Lupa slammed him full in the jaw with all her force. Mudd’s large head snapped back with the blow, he looked at Lupa with an odd, quisical expression, then collapsed in a heap at the floor. Lupa turned to the guards, expecting to be cut down by them any second. They hadn’t budged an inch. However, the male uttered a slight grunt. It might have been a tauren chuckle, Lupa wasn’t sure.

The curtains opened again, revealing Grolsch who took in the situation with a quick glance. A dawning expression of understanding followed by a little smirk came across his face. ”You best get in here before you take out the entire village single handedly young trolless’, he grunted.

Lupa steeled herself, held her head up even higher and entered the Hall of Tormakk, Commodore of the Blackfang Corsairs.

[Lupa]

Part 6: Tormakk Blackfang

Lupa quickly scanned the chamber as she stepped forward, letting the curtains fall behind her. Grolsch was standing just to her right, watching her as she passed. The room looked remarkably like the inner audience chamber in Thrall’s great hall in Orgrimmar, only in smaller scale.

To Lupa’s left against the far wall was a large tanned hide, upon which was painted a relief map that Lupa immediately recognized as the two continents and the middle sea. Major Horde controlled lands were indicated in red dye and Alliance lands in blue. Black circles indicated the location of major towns; there was Orgrimmar, Thunder Bluff, Gadgetzan, Everlook and on the eastern continent Undercity, plus the Alliance cities of Ironforge and Stormwind. All the port towns and harbours were indicated with anchors. Lupa had seen maps such as this before, however never had she seen the detail this one displayed on the islands south of the Maelstrom between Tanaris and Stranglethorn. Obviously these Corsairs had been exploring them. One large island had a turtle superimposed on it. ”So that is where I am”, thought Lupa. She made a mental note of its position.

The room was lit with several torches set into sconces around the perimeter. The flames cast a flickering glow over the entire area. Directly across from her Lupa saw a large orc sitting in a stone chair, forearms resting across a large wooden table set before him. On the table were Lupa’s weapons and packs.

Grolsch motioned for Lupa to advance towards the center of the room. Lupa was left to stand there a few moments as the seated orc, presumably Tormakk, looked her up and down. After a time he motioned to his left, whereupon a young troll appeared from behind a screen with a wooden stool which he set at the table across from Tormakk.

”Come, sit”, grumbled Tormakk in a voice that Lupa knew was accustomed to issuing orders, and having them follows immediately. Lupa slowly approached and sat in the hard, uncomfortable chair. As if on cue the young troll reappeared with a platter of meats, grilled fish and fruit. Tormakk set to the food without ceremony, motioning to Lupa to partake. As much as her belly was craving the food before her, Lupa resisted. Tormakk shrugged and continued eating. The troll reappeared with a pitcher of fermented juice and two copper goblets. He filled both and set one before Lupa. Again she resisted the urge to drink.

” Your name is Lupa”. Its wasn’t a question, but a statement of a fact he obviously knew. “You are a huntress, member of Clan Citadel. You were born in Revantusk Village and still have kin there”. At mention of that Lupa perked up. How could he have known that!? Lupa was certain she hadn’t caved into the torture and told her story. Had she? Her time in the House of Torment was a blur and Lupa now worried about what she might have revealed in her stupour.

”What I wish to learn from you is how and more importantly why you are here, now”, continued Tormakk. ”Mudd has spoken of your part in his rescue from the murlocs. That act earned you a respite from the House, but I will not hesitate to send you back if your answers do not please me nor ring true.”

Lupa considered for a moment, saw no harm in telling her tale. There was nothing nefarious about it. She relayed to Tormakk her tale of the shipwreck, her activities on the murloc island and the events leading to Mudd’s rescue. Tormakk continued eating as she spoke, grunting occasionally and nodding to himself as if her tale confirmed information he already knew or guessed at. After she finished, he licked meat juice from his fingers and uttered,”I hear no deception in your voice. Now, Lupa let me tell you whom it is you are guests of”

Tormakk picked up his goblet, drained it in one long draught and refilled it with the pitcher. His eyes took on a faraway look as he began his story.

”I was a Centurion under Rexxar’s command once. Leader of Clan Blackfang. Decorated for bravery in service to the Horde, honored by Thrall himself. I was there when Rexxar led our forces against the massed fleet of Lord Admiral Proudmoore, off the coast of Theramore. Great was the treachery of the Humans that day, but even greater was our victory over them. My regiment alone captured three of their prized vessels for the glory of the Horde.”

” Then the orders came. All captured vessels were to be turned over to the Humans who followed Jaina Proudmoore, daughter of the weasel Admiral Proudmoore. These orders, Rexxar told us, came from Thrall himself! This was an affront! The audacity, to simply hand over these prized ships, symbols of our victory, right back into the soft pink hands of the cursed humans who made it quite clear orcish annihilation was the only acceptable solution. I could not see the wisdom in that, neither could many others who had seen their comrades die in that battle at human hands.”

” I made a bold decision. Rallying my Blackfang brothers and sisters around me, and many others who felt the same, we seized the ships on the dark night before the handover and set sail. In the morning the orders were swift and dire, we were declared traitors to the Horde and to be hunted down, to be brought before Thrall for justice. Slain if we resisted.” Tormakk’s fist slammed down on the table, causing the pitcher and goblets to jolt into the air. ”Imagine the humiliation, for Thrall to value that human Jaina over one of his staunchest officers!”

”We found no safe harbour in all Azeroth, as word of the bounty on our heads spread. Eventually we sailed into the uncharted areas of the south seas, finding these islands left over from ages past. Here we founded Exile Bay, our new home and safe haven. But resources are few here. We tend sheep in the high hills but that is not enough to sustain our village. Need drives us to piracy.”

”So, here we are. And here you are now. Question is, what do I do with you?”

Tormakk considered Lupa for a spell then laid his hands flat on the table. ” Here is my offer. The same I make to many we capture in our raids. Serve us for a time and earn your freedom. Or die. That simple. Oh, and your home village also will be ravaged should you refuse. Call that insurance.”

Lupa was stunned. Her initial reaction to the ‘offer’ was to spit into this Tormakk’s face, but at the mention of her village she balked. How had he discovered that information? Lupa needed to know. She also needed to buy herself time to sort this out. She saw no option but to accept the terms and try to work at a means out of this dilemma. Tormakk held all the power here, for now.

Slowly, Lupa spoke,”I accept your terms”. With that she slowly reached out and picked up her goblet, drank from it and picked at the food. Tormakk grinned from ear to ear, ”I figured you would see things my way. Now, Grolsch will see hand you over to an officer to see you to some barracks, and let you freshen up. Then I will send for you. There is a task needing done that requires a hunter’s skills.”

With that Tormakk, Commodore of the Blackfang Corsairs waved a hand at Lupa dismissively. Lupa rose to leave, following Grolsch who was waiting at the entryway. As Lupa neared the drapes, Tormakk called out to her, ”By any chance my dear huntress, were there any animals onboard that ship of yours? Large carnivorous ones in particular?”

http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y266/toxctii/islandmap.gif

((OOC. The events I described as they pertain to the battles between Lord Admiral Proudmoore and the Horde forces under Rexxar have been published in the new book, "Cycle of Hatred". As of this writing I have not read that novel. Its my hope that there is nothing in this story that might obviousy conflict with events detailed in that novel. i.e. a clear-cut statement saying all vessels were destroyed, none captured. If anyone has read that novel already can you tell me if you see any obvious flaws? Thanks))

[Lupa]

Part 7: Dark Places

Mudd felt overwhelmed. This was his first field mission for the Corsairs, to make the regular information exchange with underground contacts within Orgrimmar itself. Not everyone in the Horde shared Thrall’s vision of peace with the Alliance, particularly his questionable relationship with the human mage, Jaina Proudmoore and her people of Theramore. They remembered the bold actions of Tormakk Blackfang and although open support of the Corsairs would mean death, many there were who owed the Blackfang Clan favours from long past.

Therzok of the Shattered Hand was one of these, and was a steady supplier of intelligence to the Corsairs.

Mudd volunteered to be the courier this time around as he wanted to escape some of the ridicule he was beginning to receive in Exile Bay as word of his humiliation at the hands of the trolless, Lupa spread through the village. Not that he felt any animosity towards the huntress, quite the contrary. He felt he had deserved as much by having failed her in helping avoiding the harsh treatment she received when first captured. He vowed to make amends somehow, but the method escaped him at the moment. For some reason he felt this important, and would not rest until his obligation was fulfilled.

The Raptor was patrolling just offshore, keeping to fog banks whenever possible to avoid detection. She was fast, and would probably escape any pursuit in any case. However, that would mean Mudd would be stranded without an extraction. He had been set ashore in a small boat just south of Orgrimmar. His instructions were clear; “Proceed inland until you arrive at a little village called Razor Hill, then follow the canyon road north to the gates of Orgrimmar. Once inside the city make your way to the Cleft of Shadow and meet there with Therzok to make the exchange.”

But Mudd hadn’t counted on Orgrimmar being so big, and busy. He was hopelessly lost in short order. He knew to draw attention to himself would be dangerous, but the longer he tarried, the likelier someone would eventually question him. He would need a guide, but who? He could not simply ask a guard, “Hey, could you direct me to the Cleft of Shadow?” Questions would be asked for sure.

Then an opportunity presented itself. There, inside a place of commerce Mudd spied a particularly sinister looking individual. This undead female had the look of a professional assassin about her, and the attitude of one not to be trifled with. Mudd was certain she could direct him to his goal. Indeed she might well be a fellow of the Shattered Hand herself!

As she passed, Mudd cleared his throat and bowed to her, “Er, excuse me Ma’am, but I am new to this city, could you help me find my way?”

The undead woman paused, turned to Mudd and studied him. Mudd suddenly felt he might have made a serious miscalculation. The gaze she fixed on him was cold as the grave and Mudd felt like an insect who’s fate to be stepped on or not was being decided. After a time she answered in a voice that sounded hollow and devoid of warmth. “ What is it you seek?”

“The Cleft of Shadow”, Mudd hesitantly answered. The woman considered Mudd for a time then replied, “Follow Me, I will guide you there.”

Mudd followed the undead woman through a maze of alleys until they descended into a cavern in the very heart of Orgrimmar. The unsavoury nature of the place spoke to it being his goal. At the center of the cavern the woman turned to Mudd and asked, “What is it you seek here?”

Mudd shuffled uneasily. He feared a lie would be recognized instantly by this chilling female, but the truth would mean certain death he was sure. If not at her hands, by the guards she would most likely summon, or by any number of roguish figures he saw in this place. Mudd tentatively answered, “I am supposed to meet someone here. Thank you for your help.” He hoped that would satisfy her.

She slowly grinned at Mudd, a fearsome sight, then with a shrug and wave left him to his devices. Mudd exhaled the breath he didn’t realize he was holding. With a little exploring he found the alcove where Therzok held office. “Hmph.. sending them young now,” grunted Therzok. “The Commodore must be running out of good footpads.” He handed Mudd a sealed package. Mudd deposited the sack of coin he carried as payment into the waiting hand. “Off you go now youngun. Before the patrols catch you.”

Mudd hurried out of the Cleft and in as nonchalant a way he could manage made it back to his hidden boat. It wasn’t until he was halfway to the rendevouz with The Raptor that Mudd realized he had worn his Corsair tunic the whole time in Orgrimmar!..

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

Tormakk Blackfang studied the figure before him. She was obviously deep in thought. He knew when the warlock was that withdrawn it was unwise to disturb her, as she was often consulting with the demonic powers that offered her such useful gifts. Gifts Tormakk had learned to exploit to his own ends. Deep in the dark recesses of Tormakk’s private chambers he waited for the warlock to finish her divinations.

At length the undead warlock stirred and looked at Tormakk. “Well Azha? Any more insight?”

The warlock replied, “No my lord, nothing new. My readings are as I relayed days ago. The trolless’ mind was open in her tortured state for my viewing, but her subconscious resists me now that she is herself again. Nothing further can I glean.”

Tormakk shrugged. It mattered little. Azha had already been able to determine all he needed to gain leverage on the trolless to gain her compliance. Not for the first time he thanked the day the storms brought the undead warlock to his island. It was an easy thing to appeal to Azha to gain her servitude. Power was her drug and Tormakk provided the means to that.

And gods willing, power would come to them all if the information that young Mudd was sent to retrieve proved fruitful. Tormakk grinned to himself at the dark prospect at finishing an old war, against an old enemy. Theramore.

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

Lupa had little time to rest over the days following her audience with Tormakk. She was quickly put under charge of a Skipper of a large war vessel, The Wyvern. Lupa recognized it’s style as an old Alliance battle barge. Huge and slow, but armed to the teeth and thick with sturdy timbers. One of the captured Theramore ships Lupa had no doubt. The Skipper, a large burly orc named Fhazoo, treated the ship as his own child. And the crew as its lifeblood.

She was assigned the rank of Killeck and quickly showed to her crew mess. It was a crowded, dark place of sweaty orcish and trollish bodies. Not a place for the modest, as they dressed, sponge bathed and relieved themselves in open heads ((ship’s toilet)), in full view of each other.

Her first few days were spent scrubbing deck boards and mending riggings. Her skills as a daughter of a seafaring tribe served her in good stead as she quickly learned her tasks and even was able to show some tricks of her own to her crewmates.

Then came a day when she was called to the Skipper’s cabin. “Lupa, you are ordered to report to the main armoury. You are being assigned to a hunting mission. Our tenders in the hills are losing more sheep again. There is a beast on the island that we cannot seem to capture or kill. It is too elusive and fierce. I am told you are a huntress. Well be warned we sent one of our own best hunters, Praks, days ago to track and slay this beast but he has not returned. It is no small task you have been chosen to perform. I fear you may not return.”

“I have slain many fierce beasts in my time Skipper. I have no fear of this one. Has anyone seen it? What nature of beast are we talking about?”

“All we know Lupa is that it’s some sort of large, black wolf or demon dog. It raids the flocks at night and leaves little remains. It has slain several sheep tenders in recent days, and as I mentioned the hunting party we sent has not returned.”

Lupa could scarcely contain her excitement. Tempest! It had to be him. Her longtime faithful companion worg she thought lost with the shipwreck. No description could have come closer.

In the darkness of her plight, Lupa might have just found a ray of hope…

[Lupa]

Part 8: Reunions

There was no mistaking the signs. Lupa would recognize those paw prints in her sleep. Tempest was alive and well! Somehow the huge worg had survived the sinking and was washed up on Turtle Island, just as she was stranded over on neighbouring Murloc Island.

Rising from her examination of the spoor, Lupa scanned the hillside. Lush tropical grasses covered the high slopes, here and there dotted with patches of scrub and the odd solitary tree. Behind her followed a squad of four Corsairs, looking nervously around them. They seriously expected attack from the “beast” at any moment. Lupa’s axes and bow were returned to her as she set out on this hunting mission, but these four were obviously assigned to make sure she stayed in line.

Further down the slopes of the interior highlands Lupa had found the remains of a male troll. One of her escorts identified them as belonging to the missing hunter, Praks. There was not much left of him other than a shattered skull and some torn clothing and assorted gear. Of his companions there were no remains, but Lupa saw the telltale signs of two bodies having been dragged up here to the high grounds. Probably where Tempest had made his den. A high vantage from where to see all approaches. Lupa felt a surge of pride in her pet’s resourcefulness. She also took pleasure in knowing he had been terrorizing these Corsairs who had enslaved her.

The sheep tenders who had directed them to the area the attacks took place most often had long since returned down to their farms at the mountain base. Their fear was obvious.

There! Up slope Lupa saw a rocky outcrop with a darkened recess underneath, possibly a cave. That looked like the most likely place her beloved worg had adopted as home. Taking the point, Lupa led the squad towards the outcrop. Their reluctance to follow was tangible, which suited Lupa fine. It was imperative she reach Tempest first or some panicked Corsair could ruin her plans. Lupa needed time to re-establish the special bond with her pet, before he went into a killing frenzy.

As they approached the outcrop Lupa’s suspicions were confirmed. A dark cave opening was evident, out of which emanated the unmistakable scent of worg. Soon she heard the rumblings of the beast as their presence was detected.

“You four, stay here and wait my call,” ordered Lupa. “You be crazy woman?”, asked a gnarled looking troll. “You no be goin up dere alone, else we be pickin what be left of you from outta da beast’s shite.”

Lupa fixed the troll a hard stare. “You be thinking if you go with me, they three won’t be pickin your tusks outta that same pile? I am the hunter here. I have tracked and taken down such as this before and know my job. You would be a liability to me up there. Wait here and come when I call.”

With that Lupa turned and proceeded up slope to the den. There inside, looking fierce, hungry and oh so beautiful was her Tempest. The great worg snarled at Lupa with his huge canine teeth glinting with saliva. With a howl he launched himself at Lupa. Her seasons of training took over instinctively and Lupa began the process of bonding. It was a chore keeping the great worg at bay as she sang her song of calming to him in a low, almost inaudible tone. Gradually however, the worg slowed his assault as a dawning look of confusion at first came over his face, followed by joyous recognition.

Then as suddenly as his first launched attack, Tempest threw himself at Lupa again, this time with a yelp of puppy playfulness. For a brief time troll and worg rolled around in a macabre wrestling match on the den floor like littermates reunited. Eventually this subsided into a gentle mutual caress, with Tempest licking Lupa behind her ears while she buried her face in his thick black fur in a tight embrace.

Standing up, Lupa made to exit the den with Tempest at her side when she remembered the squad of Corsairs waiting just down the slope for her call.

A wicked thought began to seep into Lupa’s mind, and she looked at Tempest, who peered up at her with anticipation and alertness for some command…….


Sometime later Exile Bay was in a state of turmoil as there appeared the figure of a troll huntress with a huge, fierce looking beast at her side, walking down the town streets towards the armouries. Children ran into homes to hide, Corsairs scrambled to get out of the way. The sentries in the watchtowers had arrows cocked and aimed at the pair.

Arriving at the armouries, Lupa reported into the Quartermaster. The beast would cause no more trouble, Lupa assured him, as she had tamed it. It would now serve the Corsairs alongside Lupa. Unfortunately, the cost was high, as her escort of four had panicked and attacked the beast before she could help them. They, alas, were no more….

----

That night in her hammock aboard The Wyvern Lupa had a dream..
She was playing in the den with Tempest again, but slowly the scene changed, the den was gradually replaced by the dark, green hued depths of Undercity. Lupa stood up from her romp with Tempest and looked around. She had the distinct feeling of being watched. But try as she might she could not detect The Watcher. Then she heard it, faint and distant but unmistakeable. The rhythmic, incessant sound of rubber on wood. “thock..thock..thock..thock..thock…..”

[Lupa]

Part 9: Retribution Denied

The goblet smashed against the far wall, splashing its contents all over the stone of the floor. Servants scurried to clean up the mess. Tormakk Blackfang was in a foul mood. The documents young Mudd had obtained some time ago from his contacts within the Shattered Hand were quite plain; there was a plan in place to assault the stronghold in Theramore and slay that witch, Jaina Proudmoore. Tormakk had sent Mudd back to Orgrimmar to gather what intelligence he could on when this was to take place and who would be involved, but that young fool had squandered his time frequenting the inn and gawking at highborne lords.

The raid had taken place, and failed. Tormakk wanted desperately to send some Corsairs to assist, but that opportunity at revenge against one of his most hated enemies had some and gone.

He sent word to Fhazoo, captain of The Wyvern to recall the young warrior and demote him to a lowly shad. “Place him under the care of that troll female,” ordered Tormakk. “Let her deal with him as she sees fit.” Tormakk figured that Lupa would have no love for her betrayer and the irony suited Tormakk’s sense of humour.

That did little to settle his spirit however. Only battle would do that. It was high time the Corsairs set sail again to plunder some unsuspecting shipping. Besides, they were starting to run low on some commodities and needed to replenish the stores.

Gathering himself up, Tormakk mounted the steps to the high watchtower of his keep. There set into a bronze pedestal was a large conch shell. Taking in a prodigious breath, Tormakk set lips to shell and blew a long, deep blast of the Corsair Battle Horn..
--------------------------------------------

Lupa stood up from her deck scrubbing at the sound of a deep, echoing horn sounding over the waters of Exile Bay. All around her activity stopped, then redoubled in a frenetic rate. Folk were dropping what they were doing and all seemed to rush to the armouries. Grabbing a fellow troll killeck as he passed by Lupa asked what the commotion was about.

“We are setting sail Lupa!” shouted the troll. “Tormakk has ordered the fleet to a raid!”

Everywhere was organized chaos as folk geared up, supplies were loaded onboard and the 7 major sailing ships the Corsairs called “the Fleet” made ready. Lupa’s ship, The Wyvern was one of three large battle barges that once belonged to Lord Admiral Proudmoore and were captured long ago in the battles off Theramore. The other two were The Gryphon and The Spiteflayer, Tormakk’s flagship. Originally Tormakk had aquired five, but two were lost over years of piracy. These were replaced with four smaller captured corvettes; The Raptor, The Hyena, The Basilisk and The Frenzy.

The fleet was organized in three task groups, each comprised of a battle barge and a corvette. The Wyvern was paired off with The Frenzy while The Gryphon was partnered with The Hyena. Both The Raptor and The Basilisk followed wherever Tormakk went with The Spiteflayer.

Lupa, finishing off her chores went to see on Tempest, who had been allocated a stable in the lower cargo hold. The crew of The Wyvern were mixed on this new addition to their force. Some saw Tempest as a good luck charm (Lupa knew many sailors were superstitious and saw animals onboard as protective spirits); while others still harbored a deep seated fear of the creature that had terrorized their island for weeks. Tempest looked well enough, with lots of dry grass to curl up in and plenty of water. There beside him in an alcove was the lightly bound pack of Lupa’s armour. She had received permission to retrieve her cache from its hiding place on Murloc island a few days ago.

Lupa’s mind was in confusion. She relished the preparations for battle as she always had with her Citadel brethren in days past. But she regretted the present circumstances that were leading her into this conflict. She only hoped no innocents would get caught in the crossfire. Once again Lupa privately vowwed to find a solution to this dilemna and freedom from her bondage to Tormakk.

A shout went up from topside. The decks heaved and Lupa felt the familiar jerk of the anchor being drawn up. The fleet was taking sail! Lupa scrambled to the upper decks to take up her position in the riggings, ready to unfurl the mainsail.

The Blackfang Corsairs were on the move…

[Lupa]

Part 10: The Fang Strikes..

The sun was hot on Lupa's brow as she took a sip from the water bottle she had hoisted up to the lookout platform high atop the maiin mast. It was quicky recognized by Fhazou, the skipper, that their new troll huntress had the sharp eyes of a bird of prey and would do nicely as a lookout. Fhazou didn't know that this far sightedness was a skill Lupa had trained and developed as a hunter over a long time. Lupa was removed from her rope mending duties and assigned to the lookout watch. At Lupa's suggestion the Boatswain Mate placed Mudd in the rope mending job, as well as his other duties of deck maintenance and cleaning the heads. A few days before sailing Lupa was informed that Mudd, the young orc warrior who she had rescued from a murloc soup pot only to later betray Lupa and hand her over to the Corsairs, would be placed under her charge onboard The Wyvern. The reasons for this were never revealed to Lupa, but she relished the opportunity to work the young orc to the bone.

Lupa had also assigned Mudd the chore of cleaning out Tempest's stall. This particular task eventually became a source of entertainment for the off watch crew. Wagers began being placed as to whether or not this would be the day the great worg ate the hapless young orc. They had no way of knowing Lupa had already familiarized Tempest with Mudd's scent, and the worg would not attack young Mudd unless specifically commanded to to do by his mistress. That didn't take away the fact that the beast was a fearsome thing to behold, even his normal everyday throat noises rumbled to the uninformed like ferocious growls.

The Corsair fleet had separated into their three task groups, each departing to stalk a different shipping route. The Spiteflayer, Tormakk's own flagship, went off towards the east along with her two escort corvettes to stalk the shipping routes departing from Booty Bay. The added protection of the two corvettes was necessary as those waters were claimed by the Bloodsail Buccaneers, and the relationship between the two pirating factions were tense at the best of times, and outwardly hostile more often than not.

The Wyvern Lupa's own ship long with her escort The Frenzy were sent to patrol the shipping routes between Theramore and Menethil Harbour. As Theramore was an isolated Alliance posting, many supplies and materials needed to be shipped from the Alliance lands in the Eastern continent to sustain them. This provided a rich source of loot. Not to mention many nobles were known to travel to Theramore to consult with Jaina Proudmoore on occasion. It is also the nearest of the only two major Alliance held sea ports in Kalimdor.

The other, Auberdine, was the destination of The Gryphon and The Hyena, to waylay the shipping between Auberdine and Teldrassil or Menethil. They had the longest journey ahead and were not expected to return to Exile Bay for some time. Those long haul raids were dangerous, as isolation and distance makes support from the rest of the fleet impossible.

For two days The Wyvern sailed north and west, until it took up a patrol just over the horizon from the coast of Theramore and Southern Barrens. The seas were calm and gently rolling, with a slight breeze to cool off sweaty foreheads. The crew had explained to Lupa that this waiting, stalking period could last for several days if indeed the shipping schedules were off, or the route taken adjusted slightly, meaning vessels might avoid the gauntlet set up by the Corsairs, without even being aware of their good fortune. The gentle winds favoured the Corsairs greatly, as the huge sails of The Wyvern would be able to catch more draft than the smaller lightly armed transport ships of the Alliance. The corvette however would likely fall behind if a chase ensued with these winds, as they were fast, but required substantially more wind to perform. Therefore The Frenzy was stationed closer towards the coastline where the winds gusted with more strength and she could intercept any vessel fleeing The Wyvern and making a mad run for Theramore.

Lupa was just about to gather up her gear and make the climb down the mast scramble net for watch changeover when her eyes caught a dark speck on the eastern horizon. Concentrating and focussing her will, Lupa cast her sight far downfield towards the speck. Her vision tunnelled and sharpened in the manner of a Hawk's eyesight. Scanning left to right, Lupa searched for the source of the dark speck. There! Unmistakeable, the shape of an Alliance transport ship came into view. It was riding low in the water, indicating a full cargo hold. It was definitely on the established route and heading straight into the waiting jaws of The Wyvern.

Lupa took up the brass mallet chained to the lookouot platform and hit the gong beside her six times in alarm. The reaction far below was instantaneous. The crew scurried about securing loose riggings, stowing away cleaning supplies and replacing them with sabres and bucklers. Lupa scrambled down the mast and went below to don her gear and make sure Tempest was ready. As she descended the ladders into the lower hold, she was passed by two Forsaken in colorful cloth robes. Lupa paused for a second to examine them in wonder. These were the first undead she had seen among the Corsairs and she had not seen them board the ship, nor had she seen them intermingle with the rest of the crew all voyage long. She made a mental note to inquire after them later, but for now she needed to hurry. Lupa felt the ship change course on an intercept with the Alliance Transport.

Tempest welcomed Lupa with a playful 'yip'. The worg knew a fight was brewing, whether by reading Lupa's mood through their bond or smelling the inevitable fear scent among the crew Lupa wasn't certain. She wasted no time in gearing herself up and leading Tempest up topside. At the sight of the worg, some of the preparing crew broke out in applause and oaths of praise, while others muttered curses under their breath. A few paled in obvious fear.

The Wyvern was gaining speed as the great sails were trimmed to capture the most wind. Slowly the shape of the transport came into clear view of all deckhands. It was in mid turn, heading back out to sea. They had spotted the Corsairs and were making a run for it! Fools, they should have tried to make Kalimdor, either Theramore or some other port, hopefully avoiding The Frenzy who was placed as interceptor. Even Ratchet would have been safer than heading out to sea where they stood no hope of outrunning The Wyvern. Lupa spied the two Forsaken, who had taken up a position far forward on the 'fog dodging' platform just over the bow of the ship. She recognised now what they were doing, the preparations were unmistakeable. "Mages"..

Slowly and surely the gap between the two ships narrowed. Soon, the ships were close enough for the Corsairs to see the frantic scrambling of the transport's crew as they gave up their efforts at escape and made ready to repell a boarding attempt. Lupa thought she caught the glint of sunlight off of armour, but she sould not be certain.

The Wyvern crew was comprised of thirty Shads, the lowest ranking Corsairs, mostly orcs and troll, but a single solitary tauren towered over the lot. The Shads were divided into squads of five, each led by a Killeck. Lupa, as a Killeck was in charge of the squad whose task it was to secure the foc'sle (the pointy end) of the transport. Mudd was assigned to her squad, and the young orc looked eager for the upcoming scrap. Two other squads were assigned to board midships and head below to secure the hold and any passengers. These would be led by one of the three Bosn mates, with another Bosn mate taking charge of the squad heading to secure the wheel house and the remaining Bosn Mate and two squads taking charge of The Wyvern, as Fhazou, the skipper, enjoyed joining the boarding party and seeking out the opposing captain to force surrender. All in all that made a crew of forty Corsairs; Shads, Killecks and officers alike. Of course there were also to two undead mages, but Lupa didn't count them as crew.

It was with the mages that the attack commenced. Channelling energies, the two undead mages launched flaming orbs of power at the riggings of the fleeing transport. With a 'whoosh' the canvas sails went up in scorching flame, drifting down in flakes of black sooty ash onto the crew below. The transport slowed immediately and began to drift. A further incantation from the mages and the waters around the ship seemed to crust over with icy flows. The ship lurched and was held fast by the chuncks of ice that had appeared around its hull. A raucous cheer went up from the Corsairs of The Wyvern. Fhazou, dressed in scaly mail and colorful leggings, with a large feathered cap on his head, called to Gamish, his First mate on the wheel to bring The Wyvern alongside. As the distance narrowed between the two vessels, Lupa moved her squad to the forward end of The Wyvern where a hooked boarding plank was made ready.

Closer and closer The Wyvern crept towards the stricken transport, and faster Lupa's heart began to pump with burning troll blood in anticipation of upcoming battle. As the ships closed to within arrow range, Lupa notched an arrow and sought out a target. Something was wrong, the transport crew was not in sight as they had expected. Then reality hit the Corsairs with a volley of arrows from the stricken transport. There emerging from behind crates and railings were several armed and armoured soldiers in the regalia of Theramore! Too late Lupa shouted the warning to the crew of The Wyvern. In that first volley several Corsairs screamed as arrows bit home. Lupa saw out of the corner of her eye someone grab the wheel as an arrow struck Gamish, the First mate in the forehead, dropping him like a stone.

With a shudder and loud thump the two ships knocked together. Immediately Tempest lept the gap between the two ships and with a ferocious attack caused the few defenders on the foc'sle to retreat in fear and surprise. Taking advantage of this opportunity Lupa ordered the boarding planks thrown in place. With practiced ease the planks were dropped over and pulled sharply for the hooks to bite into the wood. Then bedlam, as Lupa shouted a battle cry and led her squad in a swarm onto the deck of the Alliance transport...

[Lupa]

Part 11: Pulling the Strings of Fate

The resistance was more fierce than the Corsairs expected. It turned out the transport not only held supplies and goods destined for Theramore, but was ferrying several soldiers as well. Whether they were relief troops or those returning from leave was irrelevant, the fact remained they were onboard, numbered around eight or nine, and were organized. It was they who had taken charge of the panicked civilian crew and coordinated the defense of the ship.

The swiftness with which Lupa’s squad took charge of the foc’sle was mainly due to the surprise and shock at seeing a ferocious worg getting in their face. Not a sight they wold have expected at sea. The defenders on the foc’sle never recovered swift enough to prevent the boarding and were quickly overrun. The foc’sle defenders were mostly civilian crew, numbering around six and led by a single Theramore trooper. Once the soldier was dispatched by Lupa’s blade, the remaining crew swiftly lost heart for battle and threw down their arms. Lupa had to restrain a couple of her squad from slaughtering them, much to their obvious disappointment.

The subdued crewmembers gathered together in a sitting group at the very front of the transport. Lupa set Mudd and another shad to watch over them and while she led the remaining three of her squad down to midships to support the effort there.

Midships was where much of the most serious fighting had taken place. It was there, before the hatches leading below to the cabins and cargo holds, that the Theramore troopers had mustered the majority of their strength. Bosn Mate Sulik, a large painted troll, lay on the deck dismembered. Around his body lay several Corsairs, including two orcs Lupa recognized as the Killecks of the squads assaulting midships. Further aft on the quarterdeck, Lupa saw a Corsair at wheel, a shad she did not know very well. Nowhere did she see Bosn Mate Bronn, who was in charge of the after squad, nor Skipper Fhazou.

Deep inside the transport Lupa heard the sounds of ongoing conflict. Running aft towards the wheelhouse Lupa saw that the Corsair squad had taken charge and rounded up the civilian crew under guard, much as she had done up forward. There she found the body of Bosn Mate Bronn, with a Theramore sword sticking into his ribcage, still in the hands of the dead trooper who slew him.

“Who’s in charge here?” asked Lupa of the shad at the wheel.

“I am I guess, ma’am,” answered the orc. “Our Killeck is dead, along with Bronn here”.

Lupa made sure that the area was secure and gave instructions to the orc to hold position. “Sailor, have you seen the skipper?” asked Lupa.

“He went below after those retreating troopers”, answered the orc.

Lupa was about to lead her squad down midships and into the lower decks when she saw Fhazou emerge from the hatchway, leading a group of sullen looking Alliance sailors, two disarmed and bound Theramore troopers and a group of five passengers. These passengers Fhazou led to a far corner of the upper decks, separate from the captured crew. It was plain to Lupa he meant to search them for anything of value

Studying the passengers, Lupa saw they comprised a gnome, a dwarf, two night elves. But it was the human that really caught her attention and held it. There she stood, defiantly shielding the others, looking most unwilling to cooperate with her captors. Indeed, Lupa could see that the Corsairs were reluctant even to approach her, for understandable reasons. For one, she was armed with a wicked looking polearm which glowed with a green enchant, armoured heavily in a greenish breastplate that showed off an ample cleavage and snug, silvery-white plate leggings. These were items of war not found on some rank and file trooper. She had striking silvery hair and icy blue eyes, which seemed to pierce into the very head of each Corsair she turned her gaze upon.


The other passengers were clearly looking towards this woman as a protector. They were obviously simple diplomats and tradesmen, while this human woman was something else entirely.

Fhazou was shouting at his crew to begin the search of the passengers, but they just shuffled feet and looked to each other, willing that the task fall to someone other than themselves. Lupa didn’t need long seasons of military service to know that this was a bad situation. To have a commanding officer’s orders ignored like that out of fear was bad juju..

True to her misgivings, Fhazou clouted a Killeck behind his ear and shoved him forward. The Killeck lurched, then approached the group. The human woman shifter her polearm to face the Killeck and uttered a brief, unintelligible phrase to the orc. Although the words, spoken in the human tongue, were not understood the meaning was plain, “Back Off..or else!”

The Killeck paused and looked over his shoulder at Fhazou, who was turning red with fury.
“Enough!” shouted the skipper. “I’ll deal with this pink skin, then I’ll feed you to the sharks you coward!”

With a shout Fhazou threw himself at the woman, sabers twirling. The human took a slight backwards step, shifted her weight, and met the swords with the blade of her polearm. With a twisting motion she parried the blades , then knocked Fhazou on the side of his head with the flat of the blade. Fhazou staggered a second, then went into a battle rage. He attacked the woman with a swift flurry of strikes. She wielded the polearm with practiced ease, knocking each blow aside. However, a cunning feint with his offhand sword provided an opening for Fhazou’s main hand saber. He thrust forward. Suddenly, a glowing golden aura surrounded the woman, deflecting the blow just before it could land. A Paladin! Lupa was certain, she had seen that aura too many timed before. The woman was a paladin.

But before any could marvel at the new development, the Corsairs were stunned into silence at the sight of the polearm blade sweeping in and down onto the skull of Fhazou. The force of the blow almost clove the skipper of The Wyvern in two down the middle.

Silence, then a murmur, growing steadily into an angry grumbling. Lupa knew she had to act fast or there was going to be a massacre, of one side or the other. A quick word to Tempest and the worg lept down to the lower deck, directly between the clustered passengers and the angry mob of Corsairs. The paladin had taken up a defensive posture, but was startled to see the large black wolf appear in front of her, facing the oncoming mob.

Lupa decended to the Corsairs, hollering at them “Stand fast you louts!” They turned to look at her. “She killed the skipper!” one red faced troll shouted, “she needs to die!”.

“Did she now?” asked Lupa. “Or did I see him lose his senses and attack a stronger fighter, who clearly posed no threat? Greed done in Fhazou, plain and simple.” Indeed, other than appearing to deny the search of the other passengers, the paladin had seemed content to not interfere with the boarding. But there was something else Lupa was preoccupied with in her mind. Something about the woman was nagging at Lupa, and she struggled to pin down what it was as she spoke to the Corsair crew. Something she had heard in the past..

One particularly grizzled orc took a step towards Lupa, who had taken up a spot beside Tempest between the Corsairs and the passengers. “She deserves death, an it be my job to make that happen, “ he grunted. Lupa took one lightning swift blow with the backside of her axe to the orc’s wrist, which went immediately numb and he dropped his sword. “I be the senior officer here now, an I say leave dem be. Anyone else have a different idea?”

Lupa scanned their faces, many of which looked from her to Tempest and back again. Slowly Lupa saw the anger fade to be replaced with resignation.

“Good. Lets get moving and have that cargo loaded to The Wyvern. “ After Lupa waited to see that her orders were being carried out she turned to the woman paladin. Lupa raised both hands, palms outwards in a sign of truce. The woman seemed to consider Lupa for a moment with those icy blue eyes, then lowered her polearm. She slightly nodded at Lupa in what could be interpreted as understanding.

It was then that Lupa hit upon what had been nagging at her. This Paladin resembled the descriptions she had heard at the Nether Council from Zusteakai, that troll hunter from The Frostwolf Brotherhood, of the paladin called Lovely! Indeed, the description also fit from talks Lupa had with her friend Clys of the Immortalis! Although Clys had never spoken of it plainly, there was some unfathomable relationship between those two, Lupa was certain.

With this revelation came the seed of a plan inside Lupa’s head. A possible tug on the strings of fate. Calling Tempest to remain on guard over the passengers Lupa headed below, under the premise of searching the captain’s quarters. She found it easily, with the body of the ship’s captain sprawled out over the sill. There on the late captain’s desk Lupa found writing implements. She quickly wrote out a letter, sealed it, then drew an image on the envelope.

Returning to the upper decks, Lupa saw to the completion of the cargo transfer. Everything done, Lupa called for all Corsairs to return to The Wyvern. “But what are we to do with the transport?” The asked. Normally these ships were scuttled and the crew set adrift in lifeboats. Lupa said, “We leave them be. If we keep sinking ships, we be killin off our supply line. It makes more sense to keep them running, don’t you agree?” The Corsairs thought on that and agreed it did indeed make more sense than sinking them all.

Once most of the crew were back on The Wyvern , Lupa approached the Paladin. She discretely showed her the image she had drawn on the sealed letter. A double headed snake, turning in on itself; the symbol of The Immortalis…

The Paladin looked at it, a brief expression of shock, quickly smoothed over came over her face, confirming Lupa’s suspicions as to her identity. It was also plain that she knows of The Immortalis. “Good”, thought Lupa. “This might prove interesting.”

Lupa handed the letter over to the Paladin, Lovely it would seem. Lupa fixed her a steady stare, willing her to understand. “Send this on to The Immortalis, please,” Lupa thought as she locked gaze with those blue eyes. Turning her heels, Lupa called to Tempest and embarked The Wyvern.

They disengaged all the boarding planks and set sail for a rendevous with The Frenzy. The last glimpse they had of the transport was of its drifting towards the Theramore coast…

[Danyxandra]

((*squeels and applauds*))

[Lupa]

Part 12: Captain Lupa

The journey home to Turtle Island was uneventful. The Wyvern made good time with a strong tailwind, although the crew had to work double shift due to the significant losses they had endured in the boarding. The crew had been reduced by half, 17 sailors and 3 Killecks, mainly those which had remained to man the ship during the boarding along with several who had survived the strong defence put up by the Theramore troopers. The loss of Captain Fhazou, the three Bosn Mates and three Killecks meant Lupa and the other 2 Killecks needed to take charge, assert authority and get the vessel home.

While it was obvious the other 2 killecks were more experienced sailors and certainly more familiar to the Corsair crew, they both insisted Lupa take charge in the Command role as Skipper. She had demonstrated her leadership ability was well established and the crew knew without a doubt it was she who had prevented a slaughter through timely intervention with the Paladin Lovely, back on the stricken transport. In typical sailor fashion they felt they owed her a life debt.

In reality, they were all more than a bit intimidated by the fierce troll huntress and her black worg companion. All that is save one. The undead mage, Tejat as he was called, seemed utterly disinterested with anything that transpired onboard The Wyvern. Indeed Lupa only saw him once or twice during the days following the attack. Of his companion there was no sign. Some mentioned seeing him riddled with arrows during that first volley from the Theramore Troopers, others said he fell overboard when the two vessels struck broadside during the boarding. Nothing further was known beyond that and Tejat was not talking.

The journey may have been uneventful, but the homecoming was another matter. The customary celebrations of a successful raid were swiftly overshadowed by mournful ceremonies remembering dead comrades. Tormakk’s group had returned the day previous, and they too had suffered some losses. They had stumbled upon a Bloodsail Buccaneer squadron and the two naval forces had exchanged blows. While no clear victory was achieved by either side, both inflicted harm on the other. The Basilisk bore the brunt of the Bloodsail attack and had lost most of its crew. It barely managed to limp home under its own sail.

With all those losses to crew on two ships, Tormakk ordered a reorganization. The Basilisk would need to be tied up for an extended refit, if indeed it could ever be made seaworthy again. The problem was what to do with the remaining crew, not to mention the crew of The Wyvern. The issue at hand was the loss of 2 skilled Captains and many Bosn Mates.

In time Tormakk consulted with the remaining Captains of his fleet and chose a course of action. Its was not popular among all the Corsair leadership, but Tormakk’s will won out.

It was the day following the return to Exile Bay that Lupa was summoned before Tormakk to give her account of the boarding. Lupa knew Tormakk had already received a briefing from the other Wyvern killecks, so she expected this was to be a test.

Tormakk was seated in his familiar stone chair in his audience room. Lupa’s report took the better part of the morning, with Tormakk grunting the occasional question on some point or another. He appeared to study Lupa intently on her description of the interaction with the Paladin and her account of the death of Fhazou.

“So, you decided to not intervene and rescue your Captain why?” asked Tormakk.

Lupa considered her answer. “Because Captain Fhazou acted irrationally an he did attack the woman before any of us could stop him. The situation was volatile, Tormakk. We did have the ship under control, but just barely. There be still several Theramore Troopers alive under guard, and a dozen or so crew. They be disarmed for sure, but we not be having the numbers to stop dem if they decided to swarm. We might sure enough have won that battle, but many more Corsairs would be fish food after that. Also, the woman who did Fhazou in was no ordinary passenger, but a powerful force. Had we sided with Fhazou, she might have joined in the fray against us. That would have been bad juju for sure.”

“So I stood back, let Fhazou make his fatal mistake, then settled the situation down to be manageable. I saved the remaining crew. If you be thinking that wrong, then you must have been ready to lose a whole crew over one arrogant man’s mistake. Were you?” Lupa paused and waited Tormakk’s answer. It was a gamble turning the question over to the Commodore like that, but Lupa suspected he still retained enough of his military background to see the logic in the argument.

Tormakk grunted something inaudible, then continued; “ Well, be that is it may, we now have had to reorganize the fleet. We lost many good sailors these few days and cannot now crew all ships. Most importantly, we lost some skilled officers. Not easy to replace.” Tormakk rose and began to pace the chamber. Lupa watched him carefully.

“I am going to offer you a chance troll, to prove your worth and to test your word to us. That you are a skilled leader is plain. It is also plain that all those remaining sailors of The Wyvern owe you a life debt, and have taken to you as their leader. So.. “ Tormakk paused mid stride and turned to Lupa. “I am promoting you to Skipper, and giving you command of The Frenzy. All the remaining Wyvern crew will be joining you there. The Frenzy crew will be joining those remaining from The Basilisk as the new crew of The Wyvern.”

“Basilisk is being decommissioned for now. Its not seaworthy and needs repair. Plus we need more blood to crew that ship, which we have not.”

Lupa was stunned and it must have shown on her face, as Tormakk sported a wicked sort of grin on his face. “But be warned troll, this is not a release from service. If you fail me, your village dies and your former companions of, ‘Citadel’ is it? They will suffer.. I promise you.”

“Go now ‘Captain Lupa’ and see to your ship and crew. You have some very experienced killecks there, who will be a great asset. Use them and learn your ship. The Frenzy is smaller than what you are used to, but she is quick, and deadly.”

With that Tormakk waved Lupa away with a dismissive hand. As Lupa neared the door, he issued one last statement; “Oh, you will be needing a new Bosn Mate as your First. I will send someone…appropriate.”

Lupa felt elated as she made the walk to the docks. Here she was, with her own ship and crew! Freedom of a sort, to come and go as she pleased. The smaller corvettes were often away on patrols and forays along the coasts. Lupa now had the means to organize and work to her freedom, so long as she was careful. First order of business was to send Mudd to check on whether her letter had reached its destination. Revantusk had needed to be warned. That was key to any action Lupa would try. Should she fail, or be discovered, she needed the reassurance a Corsair attack on her village would be anticipated and repulsed.

Lovely was the key, did the Paladin understand and make the delivery? Did Clys of the Immortalis follow through on Lupa’s written request? Second only to that, Lupa needed to contact Citadel. The letter written to Clys had held instructions and a warning for them also.

Lupa pondered these developments and many others that evening onboard The Frenzy, in the relative comfort of the Captain’s cabin. Her musings were disturbed by a rapping on the door. Opening it, Lupa saw Mudd’s heavy green face before her. “Skipper, the new First is onboard ready for your inspection and welcome.”

Gathering herself together, Lupa made the climb to the weather decks. A group of sailors were clustered around an obscured figure in the center. As Lupa approached, she heard raucous laughter coming from the new First Mate. At the sound, Lupa’s skin tightened and her throat clenched.

The crew parted for her. There was her new First Mate before her. A tall troll with a shock of flaming red hair, posture slumped lightly to the left and as he turned to face Lupa, she saw he could not easily turn his head. The troll sneered at Lupa with barely disguised hate. Kozz.

[clys]

The wind blew through Clys' ratty brown hair as she flew from the Undercity to Revantusk village, the bat's strong wings beating in an irregular rhythm. She considered the words that Lupa had written to her in the letter delivered by Lovely the previous night.

"I wonder at the workings of the gods that would see me in this predicament, and would deliver a courier such as whom delivered this note to you. But I have learned not to overly question what cannot be simply explained. "

Lupa...Clys recalled Lupa's strong support in the past, at Loch Modan, and in her general behavior. Lupa was definitely an ally, and more than that, a friend. The letter went on to explain that Lupa was being held in some sort of enforced labor/captivity, by some pirate named Tormakk, who led some band of theives called the Blackfang Corsairs. That name seemed familiar to Clys, but she couldn't place it.

At any rate, if Lupa needed help, Clys was ready to do whatever she could.

"Please send word to my mother, Yayo’Jin, the mystic of Revantusk village of my plight and their danger. If warned, they will stand a chance at escape from any assault these pirates would attempt."

Clys arrived at the docks of Revantusk, and began to search the village, asking the whereabouts of Yayo'jin. At last she came to the mystic's tent, and approached her, bowing in respect.

"What kin ah do for joo?" Yayo'jin asked.

"It's about your daughter, Lupa..." Clys replied

http://computer-man.us/fr/immortalis/23.jpg

Clys went on to explain what Lupa had said in her letter. Yayo'jin nodded, not appearing to be very surprised.

"I sensed a darkness around my daughter, and a conflict within her. Now I fully understand her plight, and ours. If you find a means to communicate with her, let her know Revantusk stands warned. We have allies and are strong. Should these 'Corsairs' show their faces here, they will find us ready for them."

Clys grinned, her small fangs glinting slightly, bowed, and left Yayo'jin to make her preparations.

[Lupa]

Part 13: Brisk Winds and Steady Seas..

The wind was brisk, making the seas choppy. The Frenzy was making good time, although it was far from a smooth ride. Many of the younger sailors were stricken with the “Curse of Neptulon”, that agonizing dizzy sickness that afflicts many inexperienced travelers on the sea until they grow their ‘sea legs’.

Standing on the quarterdeck, Lupa gazed down into the water. There was a family of Sea Gnomes following in the ship’s wake, playfully leaping through the froth stirred up by their passage, without a care in the world. Lupa envied the simple joy they seemed to posses in their playful antics. Far from any complicated politics or plots.

They set sail 2 days earlier on the regular intelligence run to Orgrimmar. Mudd was to be set ashore in the regular manner under cover of darkness and make contact with Tormakk’s friends in The Shattered Hand. There was no specific timeframe or deadline to be met, so Lupa had decided to take a few days out of the trip to get to know her vessel and crew. They made a wide skirt to the east of The Malestrom and proceeded towards the Stranglethorn Vale coast.

Lupa had heard rumours from Corsair spies in Booty Bay of a gathering of sorts to happen soon; some sort of festival or party. It was Lupa’s intention to attend. It would infuriate Tormakk, she had no doubt, but the decision came to Lupa shortly after her appointment as skipper of The Frenzy to take advantage of her newfound freedom of movement, Tormakk be damned!

The one problem would be Kozz. The weasel would need to be thrown overboard some dark night, Lupa was certain. That he was posted to The Frenzy as First Mate was obvious to Lupa that Tormakk wished to keep tabs on his newest Captain, to be sure of her compliance. Kozz was a spy, there was little doubt. To his credit, he had been nothing but the picture of civility since that first day he reported onboard. Aside from the occasional sneer Lupa would catch out of the corner of her eye casted in her direction, he had made no trouble. Lupa was sure that would not last. Indeed, Tempest slept just inside her cabin door at all times as the best security guard she could want.

Also, Mudd was ever watchful and was quick to brief her on any unusual rumours among the crew. She had taken a liking to the quirky young warrior. He was actually quite funny and would amuse Lupa with tales of his youthful misadventures on Turtle Island. He also made a fine fish stew. That he was loyal to Lupa she was certain, he took his blood debt seriously and had no great love for Tormakk and the other Corsair officers who had ridiculed him over the trouncing he received from Lupa that day in Tormakk’s antechamber. Lupa resolved to test her new stewerd. She needed to know the results of her letter to Clys of The Immortalis, and to make contact with Citadel. Mudd would be her instrument. He would deliver his package to The Shattered Hand, then perform the task she would set for him. “Let’s see how resourceful my young blade wielder is..” thought Lupa.

As the sun rose high, Lupa thought about what she would wear to Booty Bay.. maybe Mudd had some hidden tailoring talents..

[Mudd]

Mudd was pleased at himself. He was starting to get the hang of the alleyways, numerous markets and open air commons of the city called Orgrimmar. It seemed he spent more and more time here of late, as Lupa had volunteered The Frenzy as the main courier ship for the Corsairs. It suited her needs fine, as it allowed her the opportunities to make the clandestine contacts she needed prepare for.. whatever it was she had planned.

Mudd admitted to himself he adored the troll huntress, who had seemed to soften her opinion of the young orc warrior, despite the fact it was his fault she was in servitude to the Corsairs. His life was a thousand times more interesting now that he followed her; new sights to see and interesting people to meet. He would have most likely remained a lowly Corsair deckhand if not for her.

Indeed, he was heading to a meeting at that moment. Lupa had attended a function a few days earlier in Booty Bay, and confided in Mudd that she had met someone she was hoping to see, a Forsaken queen of Rogues named Clys. She had not been able to talk to her as she would have wanted as the place was most likely being watched by spies. But this meeting with Mudd was arranged in order to receive some much sought after information, away from prying eyes.

Mudd thought the whole thing was exciting, and a little scary. As he walked through Orgrimmar, passing the Auction House and proceeding to the base of the Wyvern Tower, he thought "How in Azeroth will I know who this 'Clys' is?" Mudd had received a description from Lupa of Clys, but as the moment came, Mudd realized he had forgotten most of what Lupa had told him. "Mousy brown hair"; was all he really remembered.

He was worring over this when a chill, rattly voice whispered from behind him "Hello young orc."

Mudd jumped slightly and turned to face the person addressing him. At the sight his olive green skin nearly lept off his frame in an effort to run away! There before him was the very undead woman who had guided him to the Cleft of Shadow weeks before!

"Come, follow me to somewhere we can talk privately," said the woman. With that she went off into the dark alleys of the Drag, motioning for Mudd to follow. Clys, it had to be her. Mudd had an eerie sensation up and down his spine, a tingling of the nerves that Mudd half-feared was the finger of some unseen demon tickling his soul. These were strange coincidences and Mudd, being a young simple orc, felt completely out of sorts.

The woman, Clys, led them into a leatherworking shop. With a nod at the pair, the shop owner showed them to a dark, private alcove behind racks of curing hides. The place smelled strongly of tanning agents and acrid dyes. Mudd sneezed.

"Here, we can sit and talk undisturbed," said Clys. "Are you thirsty?"

"Aye", answered Mudd. "I can use a drink." Mudd was not especially used to alcohol, so he was a little nervous as he saw the woman pull out a small wooden keg of mead, and an empty flagon. He had expected fruit juice.

Filling his flagon, Mudd offered a toast to Clys, then downed half the contents. Clys simply smiled a toothy grin at him. Mudd was startled to note the woman had fangs!

"Well, how are you Mudd? Is your mistress well?" Mudd nodded and answered, "Yes she is well, and send her respect."

"You may inform your mistress that I have made the journey she requested of me. Revantusk Village has been warned, and Yayo'Jin states they will be ready should an attack come." Clys went on to explain that whatever help Lupa would possibly need in the future, she only had to ask.

"My mistress will be pleased to hear that," Mudd responded. He refilled his flagon, swallowed a large gulp and issued a hearty belch. He remembered his manners and excused himself. Clys simply smiled.

"So, young orc. Tell me aboout your people." Clys prompted.

Mudd was feeling the effects of the mead and found himself rambling on about the Corsairs, his desire to become a warrior, his service to Lupa. At the mention of Mudd's wishes to train as a warrior, Clys cut in, "If you manage to find yourself free to travel as you wish in these lands, you might want to talk to Smegmar, or Karkarov. They are two powerful and skilled warriors of my clan. They may find it amusing to train you."

"Truly? I will need to ask Lupa, but that would be sschwell!"

Eventually Mudd went on to describe Commodore Tormakk and his unusual ability to always find some way to hold people at ransom with knowledge they held private. Mudd carelessly explained he personally thought it had something to do with that undead warlock sometimes seen consorting with Tormakk in his hall.

At the mention of a warlock, Clys seemed to appear extremely attentive. Mudd realized too late that he might have spoken much too freely. Panic started to grow within him. In slurred speech he mentioned to Clys, "Oh my, the time grosh short. I musht be headin off to catchh my boat. I musht leave now ma'am. " With haste bordering on rudeness Mudd stood up swiftly, and almost fell down from the sudden rush of blood to his head and the effects of the mead.

"Well, thank you for the drinkth, ma'am. I will tell Lupa all is well."

"Farewell Mudd, we shall see each other again I have no doubt." Clys said with a nod at the young orc.

Mudd clumsily saluted and on wobbly legs exited the leatherworks. He was halfway through Orgrimmar when he remembered that he had not passed on the official information exchange with the Shattered Hand contacts. Running back into the Drag, Mudd kept on hearing a sloshing sound with each pace he took. He eventually realized he was still grasping the wooden mead keg under his arm...