Flowers

[Laushin]

Prologue

What you are about to read is not a pleasant tale. There is no sweet ending or happily ever after. It is the documentation of what befell one of the greatest guilds the Alliance has ever seen. It is filled with violence, treachery, deception and the destruction of noble fighters.

For you to even have come upon this documentation means that either Alliance security has become lax, or you actually have a right to it. I doubt anyone outside of SI:7 and their lot has heard word one of this.

One day, the Khaz Modan Brigade was strong and commanding as ever. Only those who were in said guild knew the chaos that was flowing under our calm exterior.

The next day, the few of us that still lived were nowhere to be found.

As I said, this is far from a happy, silly tale.

I have done all that I can to ensure everything bit of information I write here is fact. Some of the events, I was not witness to. For those, I can only say that my companions related them to me directly.

You're still with me? Farther than I would have gone, before those horrid nights. Read on, then, if you will. I do pray your stomach doesn't turn easily.

Laushin Rholwic
Former Veteran of the Khaz Modan Brigade

((Khaz Modan Brigade is the guild on our old server that a few of us Swordwaltzers came from. Most of us rolled up completely new toons, but a few of us kept our old characters about. Thusly, this is more of a history for characters such as Laushin and Runewaybur. Hope you all enjoy! :D))

[Laushin]

Chapter 1: Good Day, Sir!

The clouds slowly slid in a lazy breeze as the grass stirred beside a large palm tree. Birds called to one another over head, virtually drowned out by the nearby waterfall, only to fall silent as the resounding twang of an arrow being loosed filled the air, followed by the solid thunk of it hitting its mark. The raptor screeched indignantly and turned towards the palm tree just as a massive black panther sprung, seemingly, from thin air and dashed forward. The crunch of the cat’s teeth breaking past the raptor’s flesh, into its side, would have been chilling to most. Before it could react, another arrow was flying through the air, as the giant reptile turned to sink its teeth into the feline. The arrow slid cleanly through its neck; the beast dropping in a heap to the forest floor before its teeth could find flesh.

Laushin stepped from behind the tree and brushed a stray lock of hair back into her ponytail as her pet turned to bound back to her side, anxious for its reward, and looking for all the world proud of himself. Smiling, she knelt down beside him, fishing a steak from her waxed bag.

“There’s a good boy, Veretta,” she murmured, scratching behind his ear as he laid greedily into the meat.

Standing back up, she turned to the fallen beast and bit back a sigh. Veretta had bitten through where some of the best leather could be harvest from the creature. Cres, her bear and first pet, wouldn’t have done so, but Veretta would learn in time.

Quick work was made of the raptor, its skin laid out to dry and its meat slated for preservation. The rest of it was left for the wild. It had been a busy day, to say the least. She’d lost track of how many beasts she and her pet had hunted and slain. Now, her bags were nearly popping with her bounties and her stomach rumbled with a distinct reminder that she hadn’t even taken a break for lunch.

Returning to where Veretta now lay licking his chops, she took a seat beside him, pulling a simple loaf of bread and chunk of cheese from her bags. Her mind wander as she ate, leaning back against the tree, to her friends within the Khaz Modan Brigade, wondering what this person or that was doing that evening; if there would be any impromptu festivities, as was prone to happen. She was well know for being a bit of a prankster and a flirt – the latter was nearly a hobby – and any excuse for a drink and a joke was more than welcome. Especially, she thought with a smile, if that handsome night elf warrior was around.

Swallowing another mouth full of dry bread, she followed it with a swig of water and began repacking her bags with her newly acquired loot. The sun was well past its zenith and, with her bags full, it was time to return to Ironforge and see what gold could be made of her work. Surely she had at least a few gold worth of leather stowed within –

The thought was cut short as she felt a knife against her spine, her entire body paralyzed, refusing to move despite her mind’s scream to react. Veretta moved in a flash, flying teeth-first at her unseen assailant, only to be knocked back. A fine dust flew from behind her at the massive cat, and her heart stopped as the feline dropped to the ground. A second later, his breathing resumed its normal measure and she felt her heart start once again, though she still could not move.

“Fine day, eh, mon?” a distinctly male troll’s voice asked, nearly in her ear. She would have shuddered if she could have moved. “Ya seem to ‘ave taken somet’in’ from us,” he continued, “an’ we want it back…”

She felt her limbs return to her and threw herself to the side, drawing her bow and an arrow as she landed. What the hell was he talking about? What did he do to Veretta?! The arrow flew, true to its mark, but the foul troll vanished a split second before impact. Her heart beat hard against her ribcage as she scrambled for a flare. This bastard was good… The flare shot into the air, revealing nothing. Too good – what was he after?

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” she finally called into the air, her eyes falling on her beloved pet. “What did you do to Veretta!?”

“That’s not fer ya ta be knowin', now is it,” that sardonic voice answered, again behind her, as a blade slid swiftly into her side.

Eyes wide, she dropped her bow to draw her blades, and whirled on him, ignoring the pain that shot through her side. Enchanted methril met enchanted arcanite and the rogue easily threw her off balance, driving his free blade into her shoulder, her armor seemingly reduced to paper for all the protection it gave her against his skill. She was not to be had so easily, though. Dropping, she drove Phantom Blade up towards his face, a distraction from her Sword of Serenity flying to slice his leg. The satisfying slash was met with devastation, as she felt his blade plant firmly in her back.

She had no choice, she couldn’t win this. Her body fell limp to the ground, eyes closed, as she forced her labored breathing into such a shallow state it was nigh undectable, her heart slowing so that she could barely feel its beat at all. Please believe me dead, please… she pleaded over and over in her mind, not daring to move even a hair.

She heard him grunt and the blade was pulled painfully from her flesh, but she did not move, nor hardly breathe. Please believe me dead, please… Feet shuffling, a pause… Then the sound of her bags being emptied onto the ground. By Elune, what was he after? A quiet curse she couldn’t make out, then feet moving through the grass and dirt, coming closer.

“I not be buyin’ it,” he grunted, taking a fist full of her hair and jerking her up. The pain flaring from her wounds was more than she could bear and her eyes fluttered open of their own accord, to find herself face to face with her own, personal nightmare. “Where be da plant.”

“I don’t… I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she answered weakly. She was loosing blood… Too much, she needed to bandage herself… Oh, Veretta… What had he done to her panther?

He looked her over, still holding her firmly by her hair, her feet barely touching the ground. “Ya fit da description, night elf. Ya want da cat to live, ya’d best be bringin' me da plant by tomorrow noon. Ya bring da plant, I bring da antidote. We clear?”

Without waiting for her to answer, he released his hold of on her, letting her crumple to the ground, and vanished into the shadows beside them.

[Laron]

I wish I could write this well 8O what's next? /sits waiting with envy.

[Laushin]

((Too kind, thank you!))

Chapter 2: Love and… Blood?

“For one as breath-takingly beautiful as yourself, I would gladly face and slay a hundred dragons,” the grey-haired man stated softly, leaning over the girl’s hand to gently kiss her knuckles, “and bring you back the spoils of their caves – but it would never be enough to do you justice.”

Blushing, the girl giggled behind her free hand, “Oh, Marus, you say such lovely things…”

Grinning, he raised an eyebrow at her, “Say, milady?” He stood up straight, chest nearly bursting with pride. “I will depart in the morning if you but give the word. I will travel the lands; find for you whatever your heart desires. I will…”

He trailed off, a small frown pulling his smile down, as her attention left him to stare drop-jawed at something beyond him. He turned slowly, his eyes searching the mass of people that always congregated in front of the Ironforge Auction House for what had stolen that perfect moment.

The crowd was parting reluctantly, the civilians staring wide-eyed, the veterans merely glancing before going on their way. A few people moved to offer a word or assistance, but the bloodied night elf, atop her striped white saber, waved them off. For a moment, he thought it was Nighthawk, with the blue hair framing her face and the red markings streaking from her eyes.

A split second later, he realized it was, in fact, Laushin – her usual ponytail given way to a mess of tangles. Even from this distance, Marus could see the look of pain and desperate hope painted over where her usual laugh and smile would be. Her gaze moved almost fretfully over the crowd, searching, as she sat nigh stock-still, hunched over her badly bandaged wounds.

Muttering a quiet curse, Marus strode towards her, his lovely damsel momentarily forgotten. “Come on, then, let’s see to those holes you’ve gotten yourself,” he told the hunter in a jesting tone, yet his gaze broke no argument.

“I can’t,” she answered, so quietly it was a wonder he heard her over the roar of people. Glancing towards him for just a second, her gaze moved back to the crowd, “Where’s Mel..? Veretta’s in bad shape…”

He snorted in return – it could have been taken as irritation or a laugh – before pulling the reigns of her saber from her weak grip. “She left half an hour ago with Nighthawk. That damn cat of yours can wait – you need medical attention.”

She blinked down at him, before looking startled at her empty hands, as her mount moved forward at his gentle tug towards the inn. If she was just now realizing that he’d taken the reigns, she had lost even more blood than he initially thought, he decided as she continued to press the issue.

“Reg…? Shenai..? Breya…? Silvertears…?”

“Haven’t seen ‘em,” he answered. And even if he had, he certainly wasn’t going to say as much right then – the last thing he needed was her putting up a fight with what little energy she had left. The girl was stubborn at her best, and mule-headed at her worst.

He was glad that she finally dropped the issue, but couldn’t help glancing back constantly – it was so unlike her to remain silent, he had to make sure that she was still conscious. After tying her mount’s reigns to the front of the inn, he turned to help her down, only to find her already on her feet, if leaning heavily on her mount, face planted in the beast’s fur.

“Let’s get you inside and see about those wounds, Laushin,” he stated firmly, but not unkindly, as he turned her by her uninjured shoulder.

Sniffling, she looked at him with the most heart-breaking expression he thought he had ever seen on her face. “He did something to him… I don’t know what… Veretta bit me, Marus, he bit me!”

As seasoned a warrior as he was, that was the first time he’d heard of a hunter’s pet biting their owner… Well, not any hunter worth their salt, anyway. But how was he supposed to answer that? “Come on, it’ll be alright.”

She nodded mutely and slipped her arm around his waist for support as they made their way inside. His brow furrowed slightly – almost immediately the girl’s blood had started to soak through this own garments from her side and lower arm. He tried putting his arm around her shoulder, only to find yet another cut on the front, and one lower on her back. No doubt about it – a rouge had gotten a hold of her for some reason.

“Lau!” another man’s voice called out in shock as they entered the inn and Zarack jumped from his chair and mug of ale to rush towards them. “What the devil happened to you?”

“Don’t worry about that now, man. Go find us a healer – any will do, I don’t care if they’re just out of Northshire. I’ll take her upstairs and see what I can do in the meantime,” Marus answered before she had much more than a chance to look up.

Nodding, the rogue turned and sprinted through the door as Marus turned to the inn keeper. “You, get me a bowl of warm water and some fresh bandages post haste. A bowl of that stew you’ve been pressing on everyone, too. Step on it, man!”

“I’m not that bad off,” Laushin muttered at his side, looking a touch annoyed, despite it being clear that if he stepped away, she would crumple.

“Yeah, fit as a fiddle,” he answered dryly, moving towards the stairs. “Think you can make it?”

“Of course,” she answered in what he guessed was supposed to be a defiant voice. It would have been highly amusing if not for the blood dripping from her fingertips as she took hold of the stair rail and began to take the first step. The two of her boot stubbed that bottom step and she nearly landed herself on her face. Reluctantly allowing him to help her back up, she sighed, “Or not…”

Without a word, he scooped her up into his arms, being as careful as he could not to put painful pressure on her wounds – a feat in and of itself. She opened her mouth in shock, then shut it, accepting what had to be done.

It finally occurred to him, then, that he was taking a beautiful - if bloody - normally flirtatious night elf woman up to a bedroom… Clearing his throat, he pushed that thought back and tried to access her wounds from what he could see. The blood that had dripped from her fingers was clearly from the fang-shaped punctures on her arm. She hadn’t been exaggerating about her pet biting her. The rest of the wounds, however, were covered in red-soaked bandages and layers of damaged armor, making it difficult to asses her injuries, at best. Carefully, he sat her down on one of the beds.

“I’d normally love to ask you this, but under the circumstances… Well, I need to take your top off, Lau,” he stated in as solid a voice as he could muster as he went to shut the door to the room. Whoever had done this to her was certainly going to pay – there was not doubt of that.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Runewaybur, class a rogue and the most handsome gnome in all of Azeroth – at least, in his own mind – leaned back against the outside walls of Ironforge, taking a long drag from his pipe. As was a favorite pass time of so many veterans, he and a few others from the Brigade had spent the vast majority of the day dueling one another to test their skills.

“You call that a fight?” Guttya was laughing beside him, nearly doubled over. “It was more like a giant stomping on an ant!”

“Oh shove it,” Lathelia, a young night elf rogue, answered as she pushed her short white hair back before bowing respectfully to Manaburn.

“Either way, it was a good fight,” the gnome mage offered, bowing as well, her high pitched voice cheerful as ever. She had been the victor.

“I thought I’d gotten better,” the elf rogue sighed, turning towards the wall to find a place to sit.

“You’ve got a ways to go,” Rune offered, “But you’ve come a good ways too. You loose your spirit and I’ll shove it back into ya the hard way.”

She blinked at her elder before nodding mutely. He couldn’t help the small smile that formed around his pipe – she would be good one day, he’d make sure of that. When she started getting her skills polished, he’d be sure to teach her a few tricks. After all, she was Brigade.

“Are you sure you don’t want to go again,” Manaburn was asking, smiling brightly. “You might get me halfway down, this time!”

”That’s ‘bout as likely as the Arch Druid get-“

Lathelia’s normally snide commentary was cut abrupt as a shout erupted from the gates of Ironforge and Zarack came blazing towards them. “Shenai! Lau’s been hurt – bad – she needs a healer! Looks like she caught the bad end of a few blades!”

Dead silence took hold of the entrance as the eyes of all the friends turned on Zarack. He hesitated for a moment, before continuing towards the priestess. Sound erupted as soon as his foot fell, in the form of voices.

“What?! What happened to her – where is she,” Guttya demanded, all mirth gone from his Elvin features, a darkness settling over his glowing eyes.

“That hunter?” Lathelia’s tone was one of surprise.

“Oh no, is she going to be alright?” Manaburn added in, concern crossing her cute features.

“Girl’s a fool! I’ll kill her!” Rune’s exclamation was by far the loudest of all as he jumped from his place at the wall, gaze boiling and tiny fists gripping at where his maces normally rested.

“Silence,” Shenai’s voice cut through the clamor like ice shattering – not loud, yet irrevocably in charge from the first syllable. “Take me to her, Zarack.”

Rune watched with grinding teeth as his fellow rogue nodded and turned to lead the priestess. In a flash, he was at their side, as was Guttya, making an odd escort through the milling throngs of people. She wasn’t hurt that badly, he tried to convince himself as a cold seed nested in his stomach. Zarack was exaggerating. The closer they came to the inn, the more his anger turned to worry.

The girl, be her an elf, was like a little sister to him, after a fashion. He couldn’t count the number of times he had fought at her side, making sure she was safe – nor the number of times they had sat for hours on end laughing and telling each other tails. Whenever something troubling was on his mind, she always managed to show up at just the right moment, and with a tease, laugh and radiant smile, make him feel that all was well again. She couldn’t be hurt that badly. She simply couldn’t.

“…a lot of blood. Marus was taking her upstairs to try and stop the bleeding,” Zarack was telling Shenai in front of them.

He felt his stomach tighten and spared a glance to the elf rogue that towered over him. It didn’t seem that Guttya’s face could have darkened any more than it had outside, yet this was enough to make anyone take a second look.

“She’ll be fine – she’s a tough one,” Rune stated with far more confidence than he felt. She had to be fine.

Up the stairs the strange entourage went, the priestess trailed by the three rogues, before she turned to stare each of them down. “You all will remain out here – I don’t need to have you lollygagging around and stifling the room.”

“But..!” Guttya began, but was cut off by her stern look.

Sighing, Zarack nodded silently and turned to lean on the wall in a semblance of patients.

Runewaybur, of course, was not going to stand for that. As the priestess gave a sharp nod at the two of them, he slipped passed the lot and into the room.

Marus stood beside the bed that Laushin lay on, the elf in nothing but her undergarments from the waist up, as he carefully pressed a fresh bandage across her back. A pile of blood-soaked cloths lay on the ground beside them, and the bowl of water on the table was turned a violent shade of red. His little elf was far paler than normal, her eyes closed tight in obvious pain.

The concern that had taken hold of his gut erupted into fury at the site of her so torn up. "I'll kill whoever did it. Gimme my maces!" his high pitched tone bellowed down the stairs, causing the two in the room with him to jump and stare wide-eyed.

“Out,” Shenai all but spat, glaring down on him. “You can speak with her later, when she’s not on the brink of fainting. Now, out!”

For a moment, he simply glared back at her, before coming to himself and turning to storm back out and join his friends.

“Thank you for coming so quickly,” Marus was saying as the priestess closed the door behind her.

It was likely only a few moments that passed, but it seemed like an eternity. The three rogues were motionless at first, as was prone to their nature. Slowly but surely, however, they began to fidget here and there. By the time Shenai finally opened the door to allow them entrance, Zarack was pacing a hole into the floor, Guttya was fiddling relentlessly with his daggers, and Runewaybur was puffing furiously on his pipe.

“Laushin needs you to retrieve a dress from her bank-box, Zarack,” the priestess stated simply, handing him a key. The human nodded and turned to leave.

“She’s alright then?” Guttya asked, trying to look past the smaller woman into the room.

“Of course she is,” Shenai tisked at him, but finally allowed a small smile. “You can go on in, if you like. She doesn’t mind.”

Again, Runewaybur was already passed them and inside. “What happened to you, who did this, I’ll track them down and shred them! You just tell… me… What’s wrong?” She had but to look at him to drown out his train of thought. Something was far amiss. Her body was whole once more, but there was death in her eyes.

“It was a troll rogue,” she answered simply. “Forgive me for not retrieving his name.”

“Err, um, Laushin…” Guttya muttered, red-faced and trying not to look directly at her. “You’re alright now, right?”

“No,” her tone was cold; all of her usual warmth sealed away by whatever had upset her. “He poisoned Veretta – forced him to turn on me. I can still feel him… More deranged and wild than when I first chose him for a pet. He seeks nothing but blood, does not care who’s it is. He no longer knows me, nor understands me. Shenai has agreed to take a look at him as soon as Zarack brings me something to wear.”

Again, Rune felt a pit in his stomach. He didn’t really understand just what it was between hunters and their pets, but he did know a few things: Laushin was a beast master, and the girl valued her pets as much as – if not more than – her friends. He had seen her bring herself to point of mortal peril to save one of her pets. For one to be turned against her… Despite himself, a chill ran down his back.

“If it’s poison, I know a few things,” he offered. “I’ll come take a look too.”

“Thank you, Runewaybur,” she called him by his full name. She never did that. “It is appreciated.”

Oh yes, there was going to be hell to pay. He would help his little hunter bring back her precious pet, and then track down that troll and make him scream for mercy.

[Keraph]

((This is coming along very well. I'm hooked!))

[Laushin]

((Talk about encouragment to post more. ^_^ Thanks!))

Chapter 3: Tisket, a Tasket

Perhaps if Laushin had taken a moment to look in the mirror before leaving the inn, she would have understood the looks the passer-bys gave her as she and her entourage strode purposefully through Ironforge. Perhaps she would have seen the deathly glare that she inadvertently shot everyone she passed, or the deadly grace that she exuded despite her lovely black gown, her normally bound hair still loose around her shoulders. Then again, in her current mood, perhaps she would have looked in the mirror and seen nothing save her beloved cat under the control of some unknown substance.

She could feel the presence of the three rogues and the priestess behind her, but paid them little mind. As long as they were coming, she would not stop. Truth be told, she only even needed on of her three rogue friends to come, but they had all insisted and she was in no mood to argue the matter or give them the chance to get into some petty male squabble over who would assist her. Her mind was focused purely on the matter at hand – a bow drawn tight and ready to be loosed. She would see Veretta made right shortly. She would feel his presence as a warmth once more – no longer a menace.

As they moved in unnerving silence into the stables, she paid little mind to those around her. Hunters always littered this area, checking on pets they had left, or trading out one for another. Her quick, steady gate lead them straight to the stable in which her precious pet was being kept behind bars and locks. The beast sneered at her as soon as she came near, throwing itself against the iron door with a furious roar of bloodlust.

“I dunno what ye did to that cat, lass, but he’s not been right. I cannot get close enough to give him a tranquilizer, even,” the dwarven stable master huffed at her side.

“Horde work,” she all but spat in reply. “Filthy horde’s work. Give me the tranquilizers and I shall see the deed done.”

“No, Laushin, let me do it,” Guttya intervened, placing a hand on her shoulder as the dwarf handed her the injector. “I can do it without him knowing I’m there – you know I can. I’d not see you hurt again.”

For a moment, she watched him over her shoulder, contemplating allowing someone to get close to her cat right then. Finally, she nodded mutely, her gaze not softening in the least, and allowed him to take the injector from her hand. Her lips pursed as he vanished before her eyes – she hated that with a passion, she could not even sense his presence – and a moment later the black panther gave a snarl before collapsing on the straw as Guttya returned to her senses and sight.

Beside her, Runewaybur let out a sigh he had apparently been holding back. “Let’s see what can be done, then. After you, m’dear Priestess.”

Shenai merely nodded to him and stepped forward to kneel down beside the unmoving beast. Her hands laid gently upon the creature, fingers disappearing into the soft fur that Laushin knew so well. A soft glow spread from her hands, slowly filling the small stable with warmth before she finally pulled her hands back, shaking her head.

“There is disease… But other darkness and corruption that I cannot touch,” she answered solemnly. Laushin’s stomach turned. “I hate to say it, but you might need to have a druid look over him as well. Whatever else is there, it will not release the disease until it is cleansed first.”

She nodded slowly, forcing the nauseousness in her stomach down as Runewaybur moved to see if any of the poison dust remained in Veretta’s fur. A hand gently touched her shoulder in a comforting manner and she glanced to her side to see Zarack watching on solemnly.

“I had prayed not to hear those words,” a melodic voice sighed behind them. “The poison is also cursed – but the disease holds the poison and curse in place as much as it seems they hold the disease.”

For Laushin not to have noticed Mellixia and Nighthawk’s presences showed how deeply disturbed she was by the events of the day. She turned to regard them with a stone face and found a similar expression greeting her from her fellow hunter.

“It seems your Veretta has met the same fate as my Grimrage,” the elder hunter stated soberly, watching as the gnome rogue carefully dusted the poison off of the sleeping cat and into a small vial, a mask tight across his nose for protection. “Do you know what they were after?”

She paused for a moment, her emotionless mask breaking as memory returned, her eyes widening ever so slightly. Finally, she let out a sigh that nearly deflated her. “I… believe so.”

She could feel Nighthawk’s gaze piercing her, but couldn’t bring her gaze up to meet it. Now that she was thinking about it, she was sure she knew precisely what that troll had been after.

“It would have to be something truly important for them to send such a skilled rogue after me – and I’m assuming you, from your state of dress,” Nighthawk stated simply. “I believe we should go speak with Lohoi. There is nothing that either of us can do for our pets at this moment – they are in the best hands in Azeroth. Come, Laushin.”

The younger hunter nodded, still not bringing her gaze up, as a sense of dread filled her stomach. She was sure, now, that she knew what this was about. So, in the end, not only had her pet been hurt, but Nighthawk’s as well, due to her mistake… As she turned to follow her elder out, she wondered just how angry Nighthawk would be when she found out what this was about.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Taegar’s mood was easily as foul as he was famous for, and it could all be laid on the company he was presently forced to keep. Glowering into his mug of ale, he forced himself to listen to that grating voice. It was information he would need to know for later, but that didn’t mean he liked the source.

“A new weapon, Grais?” Lohoi asked, his brow furrowing as he tapped his chin. “That doesn’t bode well at all. Go on then, let’s hear it.”

“I will get to that part in a moment,” the rogue answered, his usual smug tone edge with something else that Taegar couldn’t quite place a finger on. “It seems that one of our own has taken one of the key parts to it – by purpose or accident, I do not know, but a bounty has been placed on their head, and the retrieval of that item.”

“Stop talking in circles,” the warrior snapped, eyes jerking up to glare at the other man. “If one of our own is in danger, out with it! Who is it and what do they hold!”

“Calm yourself, lad,” Lohoi stated, trying to hold back his own sudden worry – it was clear as punch on his face.

“The person’s one of our lovely hunters – Blue haired, with red stripes coming from their eyes,” Grais answered, frowning over the crowd.

“Nighthawk..” Lohoi answered with a stern frown.

“Or Laushin,” Taegar added in with a sigh before downing the full mug.

“No, not little Laushin – how would she have gotten her hands on something this important?” the paladin shook his head before taking a heavy seat. “I’ll send word for Nighthawk – she’ll have to deal with some company until this is over.”

“You might be surprised at what ‘little Laushin’ is capable of,” Grais interjected, shaking his head. Was that concern Taegar heard edging the rogue’s voice? Surely not. “The item in question is rather vague still… All I’ve been able to gather thus far is that it’s used in the forming of some sort of poison.”

“A plant,” the tale-tell melodic tone of a female night elf’s voice interjected. “That… I gave to Taegar.” The three men turned to look at the near-twin night elf hunters as Laushin released a heavy sigh. “So that’s what this is all about..? Some stupid flower? They did… that to our pets over a flower?”

Taegar’s frown deepened. Just two days past, Laushin had given him some unknown herb – she knew he was an alchemist (as odd as some found that) and thought he might have use of it. He hadn’t been able to determine what it could be used for as of yet, and had set it aside while other issues filled his plate.

“Did what to your pets, lasses,” Lohoi was frowning as deeply as he was.

Nighthawk glanced towards Laushin, the younger girl’s eyes downcast in what Taegar assumed was either shame or regret, before explaining what had happened to the both of them. Looking back at the younger of the two, he shook his head as the explanation finished.

“It’s not you’re fault, Laushin, don’t look like that,” he offered in what he hoped was a comforting tone. His ire was still raised from that damnable rogue’s presence, but their differences would have to be put aside for the moment.

“Aye lass – but how did ye come across this? I doubt it dropped into yer lap,” Lohoi continued.

Taking a deep breath, Laushin sat herself on the table behind them. “A couple days ago, Xigo and I heard word that there was movement stirring up at the Scarlet Monastery again. We went out to see what was going on and dispersed what we could find of the idiots. He had other matters to attend to and went his own way when we finished, but I wished to return to South Shore… I was on the road back when I came across a courier. I had not intentions of starting anything with him, but he took it upon himself to attack me. It was no easy fight, but I finally lit his corpse aflame to ensure he could not reclaim it – only after I snagged up his package.” She let out a deep, troubled sigh, shaking her head, “I had no idea it was anything important – it just looked like some herbs, so I gave it to Taegar. I thought maybe he’d have a use for it…”

“Regardless of if by accident or purpose,” Grais answered, “You’ve done well to take it from them. It is the key ingredient in that poison that was used on Nighthawk’s and your pets. They planned to mass produce it and spread it through out Ironforge. I’m sure you can imagine what a devastating effect that would bring.”

Taegar silently wondered if his face looked like his fellows – blood-drained and wide-eyed. Devastating would be an understatement. It would cripple the Alliance’s forces beyond repair and cause countless innocent deaths. His stomach turned at the thought.

“But if it’s a plant, couldn’t they simply grow more?” Nighthawk asked, her own brow furrowed in the horror of what might come.

“No. It is a hybrid of various other plants that they perfected over several years – they have not been able to duplicate it since, as nature has a way of always changing,” Grais answered with a shake of his head. “What poison they have already made from it is all they have unless they get this plant back.”

“The troll that attacked me…” Laushin began, then swallowed hard as he voice cracked. Taegar frowned at – regardless of being healed, it seemed she still was not up to her full self. “The troll that attacked me,” she repeated, continuing, “demanded that I meet up with him tomorrow at noon… He said that he would bring the cure in exchange for the plant… I know we can’t give them the plant back, but… But what are we to do about our pets?”

“You said that Rune was gathering the remnants of the poison, aye?” Lohoi answered. When the two women nodded, he continued. “Take it to one of our…” he glanced around, lowering his voice to a whisper for the one word, “warlocks – if it’s a curse, they should be able to figure it out. Laushin, I want you to do it – I have other needs of Nighthawk.”

Laushin gave a tentative glance to her elder hunter, for all the world still looking abashed. But Nighthawk gave her a nod and placed a hand on her shoulder and the younger’s face relaxed. Whatever had just transpired was beyond the warrior and he merely shook his head – woman, be they elvin, dwarf, human or gnome, were always a mystery.

“And Laushin,” Lohoi added as she began to turn away, “Ye are not to leave the capital cities alone, save for flying between them by gryphon.”

“But…”

“No ‘but’s lass, the horde are out for ye two – I’ll not let them take one of mine,” the paladin answered sternly, shaking a finger at her. “Taegar, she’ll be needing that plant.”

Stifling a small chuckle at the face she made for the restrictions (he honestly expected her to stick her tongue out at the dwarf) he stood to escort her to the Vault as Nighthawk moved to take his place and continue the conversation. While he was admittedly a bit curious as to what more was to be said, any excuse what-so-ever to get away from that hated rogue was gladly taken. Already feeling his mood improving, he placed his hand on Laushin’s back to guide her towards the exit.

[Ryuran]

Excellent work! :P This is coming along very nicely. Can't wait for more! :wink:

[Laushin]

((Awww! Ryu made his very first post, just for me! You'll get a purr if I ever run into you on one of your visits to SW. ^_~))

Chapter 4: A Spot of Tea

A sharp breeze slung the wretched screech of the dragon across the scorched earth, followed quickly by the sound of steal clinking off stone. Another screech, a twap as an arrow was loosed from a taught bow. The sickening sound of blade cleaving scales and the resounding thud of the massive dragon falling to the earth.

Xigoshura stepped back to stare mutely at his and Moonwind’s handiwork as the hunter moved in to skin the beast. She had long since grown accustom to his normal silence when hunting. Slowly, he slid a cloth over his bloodied blade as his eyes sought out their next target… Only to find the scorched plain littered with dead dragon’s remains. He knew that eventually the savage beasts would repopulate the area – they seemed to come out of nowhere at an alarming rate. But, for the moment, the Searing Gorge lay quiet.

“You have a friend,” Moonwind’s ever pleasant tone brought his eyes back to her.

He followed her gaze up to the spec of a bird circling high overhead. As if that were its queue, the pigeon rocketed down to land on his arm. A thin role of parchment was attacked by chains between its legs and it took him a mere second to retrieve the missive. The outside was sealed with a mark he knew well by now – if anyone outside of the guild so much as touched the paper, the words would simply vanish. So few wrote him these days, that he knew, even before seeing that seal, that it must be important – not that he would wish for more correspondence. Letters always seemed to bear bad tidings. This one was no exception.

Xigo,

Seems Laushin has gotten in a bit over her head. I know, massive surprise to you, I’m sure. She managed to take something important from the Horde, and now they are trying to get it back at nearly any cost. Shenai was kind enough to heal her wounds after her first encounter, but one of her pets has already been laid out for the time being. Of course, you know how stubborn she can be about doing things on her own. None the less, I’ve given her strict orders not to leave Stormwind or Ironforge alone.

If you wanted to check in with her yourself, she went off to find a friend in the Slaughtered Lamb. If you’re quick about it, I’m sure you can catch her there. Just thought you’d like to know.

Regards,
Lohoi

He resisted the urge to crush the parchment in his fist, refused to let even the slightest hint of the tightness that had gripped his chest show upon his face.

“What is it?” Moonwind asked, tilting her head curiously towards the letter as his eyes flew over it a second, a third time.

Finally, he looked up at her, unable to keep the tiny hints of concern from showing in his gaze. For him, that might as well have been a frantic scream. “Your sister,” he answered passively, handing the hunter the letter as her eyes widened. “We must go.”

Without waiting for an answer, her turned and whistled for his mount, jumped onto the creatures back, and was headed towards the gryphons in mere seconds.

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She must have looked odd, the thought crossed her mind as she moved with purpose through the streets of Stormwind. She had returned her hair to its normal ponytail, but had not a choice other than to remain in the simple, yet elegant black dress her old friend Bloodweasel had given her so long ago. Her armor had been in horrendous shape – along with her prized blades – and she had been forced to leave them in Ironforge for repair. That in and of itself might not have looked out of place, if not for the massive pole arm protruding over her shoulder. She might not be able to fully armor herself, but there was no way she would be caught weaponless with what had just happened.

Cres, her large brown bear, trotted eagerly beside her, reaching over to nuzzle her dangling hand ever few steps. Idly, she patted his head as she moved through the canals, thinking back on her departure from Ironforge. Honestly, those three rogues were simply too much at times. Each of them had nearly followed her against her wishes. As if she would not be safe surrounded by the Alliance’s soldiers, in one of their capitol cities. It wasn’t until she had threatened never to speak to any of them again that they had let her go – with a kiss for each of their cheeks. It was endearing and annoying how protective they were of her.

As her feet took her finally into the magical district of the grand human city, she paused, something pulling at the edges of her hunter’s senses. Something was moving nearby, but she could not place what or where. Her heart leapt in her chest as she stared vainly at a set of boxes. Surely horde could not have simply snuck past the guards at the entrance and found their way into the city… But if so, she needed to get a move on. She dared not risk a flare to reveal them – they would surely attack then…

Turning, she bent to scratch Cres behind his ear, chuckling to him, “Silly bear, there’s nothing there… You’re just paranoid today.”

Regardless, her steps were a touch quicker as she moved into the lush green gardens of the Mage’s territory, winding her way down the paths until she stood before The Slaughtered Lamb. She let her senses spread over the area – and upon finding no sign of the hidden unknown, she entered the building, now focusing on a new “prey”.

“What can I get for you, miss?” the bartender asked with a smile that did nothing to hide the darkness in his gaze.

“Lamagra,” she answered simply, taking a seat at a well lit table. She had no need for him to mention staying away from the shadows in this place.

“I’m sorry miss, I don’t know what you-“

“He’s downstairs,” she answered a touch more sharply, not bothering to look at the man, but rather watching the spot through the floor where she could feel him. Cres sniffed at the bartender, gave a small growl, and took a protective stance beside her. Her fingers once more began to stroke his fur.

“Miss, maybe you should come back some other time, hmm?”

Her eyes narrowed as she followed the warlock’s movements below her. “If I leave and return,” she stated simply, not bothering to raise her voice or harshen her tone, “it will be with Marus.” The warrior’s deeds in this tavern had spread like wildfire. He was not well liked here.

“Really, now…“ he spluttered, jaw working as he attempted to find the words to counter her threat.

At that moment, much to the hunter’s relief, she felt her friend begin to move towards and then up the stairs. “Don’t bother – he is coming.”

The bartender clicked his teeth shut and began whipping down the counter – though it certainly didn’t need it – as the warlock in question topped the spiral stair case.

“Laushin,” he smiled, moving to greet her. “What a pleasant surprise – to what do I owe the honor?”

“I fear it’s not the drink and merriment that brings me here today, Lamagra,” she sighed, pulling a letter, the plant and the small vial from her pouch. “A dark business is afoot and I need your aid.”

He raised an eyebrow at the odd tone in which she addressed him and the deadly seriousness that had taken her features. “So it would seem,” he answered, taking the seat across from her. “You look as if one of your pets has been taken, or the horde has found a keen liking to hunters’ blood.”

She blinked at him in obvious surprise, pausing before placing the items on the table between them. “Both, actually. It’s a long story, but Veretta has been poisoned. Neither Runewaybur nor Zarack were able to place the poison, and both Shenai and Mellixia found the cure to be beyond their grasps. What they were able to find out is laid out in that letter.”

Lamagra nodded solemnly, picking up the letter and pouring over its contents. “I see… This is quiet the conundrum, indeed. You say that your cat has fallen victim to it..? And The same of Nighthawk’s bear, I see… Yes, of course, I will get started on this immediately.”

Laushin let out a breath she didn’t realize she had been holding. “Thank you, Lamagra – you have no idea how much it means to me.”

He smiled at her in return and shook his head, “My dear, how could I refuse you?”

She blinked at him for a moment before opening her mouth to answer. The door opening held her tongue and she looked over her shoulder to see the last person she expected walking into the room.

“Xigo – what in Azeroth are you doing here?” she asked bluntly as he strode calmly towards the table she shared with Lamagra.

Without a word, he placed the letter on the table before her, his gaze never leaving hers. Brow furrowing, she looked down at the now crumpled page and felt her heart sink a bit as she took in Lohoi’s scribble.

“Bloody dwarf,” she muttered in obvious annoyance, before turning her gaze back to the breath-takingly handsome night elf. “I’m fine, as you can see.”

“Oh now,” Lamagra stated shaking his head. When had he picked up the letter? “You didn’t tell me about this bit.”

“Well it doesn’t change anything,” she answered, lips pursing in annoyance as she snagged the letter back from him. His raised eyebrow drew her face into a near child-like scowl. “I can take care of myself, you know.”

“Of course you can,” the warlock answered with a sagely nod, “but why would any of us risk your radiant presence? I’m sure our friend here agrees. Now then, as it is clear that you are in good hands, I will see what I can discover of this riddle you have given me.”

She opened her mouth to protest, but Lamagra was already sliding his chair back and bowing to each of them. “Xigoshura, Laushin, if you will excuse me.”

The warrior nodded to him and the two elves waited in silence until he had descended the stairs. Sighing, Laushin shook her head before standing as well. “There really is no need for all of this.”

“I would see you safe,” he answered simply, his gaze yet to leave her.

She felt a touch of heat rise in her cheeks, but forced it down as she raised her hand to touch his cheek. “I appreciate it, I really do Xigo, but I’ll be fine.”

He caught her hand as she started to drop it and turn towards the door. “Yes. You will. I shall be with you.”

“I see,” she answered slowly, unable to stop the heat from taking hold of her cheeks. “You should be careful, Xigoshura, or you’ll make a girl think she means more to you than she truly does.”

The small smile that spread over his face caught her off guard, but was gone, to be replaced by the ever present blank slate she was accustom to, before she was truly sure of the meaning behind it.

“Your sister is waiting for us at the gryphons,” he followed up seamlessly as he turned to hold the door open for her.

“Moon..? Oh blood and ashes… She’s going to have my head.”

[Laushin]

Chapter 5: Sleep Tight

It was as they were leaving the Slaughter Lamb that Laushin felt a familiar presence emerge outside the tavern. Placing her arm on Xigoshura’s shoulder to halt him, she called over her shoulder.

“You know, Zarack, I nearly let Cres at you earlier.”

“That bear of yours wouldn’t have found me in a million years,” he chuckled in return. “Sorry for giving you a fright – you gave me one, with the thought of a sound ear-boxing.”

The two elves turned to regard the human rogue. Respectful and polite as ever, Xigoshura bowed to him – his greeting to their longtime friend. Zarack bowed in return to the warrior before slapping him on the back in an embrace.

“It is good to see you, Zarack,” the elf intoned as solemnly as ever.

“You look well, Xigo – or as well as you’re pale skin ever allows,” the rogue chortled before flinching when he noticed Laushin’s glare. “Don’t give me that look, Lau.”

“I told you three not to follow me,” she answered simply, eyebrow raised, though not in amusement.

“Since when did we take orders from you?” he couldn’t help but laugh in return before wincing at her glare again. “Alright, alright – you can’t blame us for being worried. Light, we even broke down and drew straws to see who would get to do it. You can bet that Rune and Guttya are still kicking themselves for letting me produce the straws.”

In spite of herself, her lip twitched upward at that. “I’m sure you’ll have more hell to pay from them upon return than I could ever bestow,” she answered before letting out a sigh and shaking her head. “Look… Why don’t we go fetch Moonwind and find a tavern with some decent food? And then perhaps some beds. I want to wait until Lamagra is finished before returning to Ironforge.”

“What, this place isn’t to your favor, sister?” the older hunter asked as she approached. “You took too long – I grew concerned. Are you alright?” The two hunters caught each other in a tight hug as Laushin nodded mutely. The elder sighed and gave her another tight squeeze before releasing her to hold her at arms length. “Chin up. The best of the best are at work – Veretta will be right long before noon tomorrow, I am sure. You know how the Brigade operates.”

Again, Laushin nodded, managing a small smile that finally touched her eyes, at the comforting words from Moonwind. Bending down, she hugged Kiba – Moonwind’s wolf – tightly before raising to face her sister again. The smile slipped for a moment, though, as she glanced back at the two men. “Guys, do mind trailing behind Moon and I as we walk..? There’s something I wanted to talk to her about and, um…”

The rogue and warrior exchanged a knowing look before the elf nodded as the human spoke. “Yeah, yeah, girl talk and all. Just don’t try and loose us.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Moonwind answered before Laushin could open her mouth. “My baby sister needs her babysitters, after all.”

The indignant glare that received set the lot of them to laughter, but in short order, the hunters were arm-in-arm well out of earshot, on their way to the Gilded Rose.

“Did… Xigo mention me at all, while you two were gone?” Lau began tentatively.

Moonwind’s eyebrows rose and she glanced over to the blue-haired elf. “What, you mean hold a conversation? You’re kidding, right? All he said was that the two of you had just cleared out the Scarlet Monastery again.”

“Oh…” she sighed, letting her free hand rest lightly on Cres’ head.

A mischievous smile spread across her sister’s lips, “Now why on earth would you ask that, Laushin..?”

She felt her face heat again and tried to force it down. “You know why, Moon…”

“Yes, but has something happened to make you even more curious? Perhaps his valiant rush to be at your side in your time of need?” Brushing a stray lock of white hair back, she chuckled. “Or the fact that Lohoi wrote him directly, instead of me? Maybe the fact he actually showed a sliver of emotion? Honestly, sister, I don’t know what you see in that emotionless façade of his.”

“He’s… not like that with me. At least not all the time,” Laushin answered, barely keeping from glancing back. “I mean, yes, he’s reserved but… I’ve seen him laugh and honestly smile. You can’t tell me that with all the time you two have spent together you haven’t seen that as well.”

“I haven’t. Not since the war.”

Her mouth worked soundlessly for a moment, before she resigned herself to biting her lower lip. In a rush, what had transpired between the two of them moments before came out in a confiding whisper. Moonwind’s eyebrows rose with each pass, and she did not bother to refrain from glancing back at the two men, a curious expression on her face.

“By Elune, for him to…” She trailed off, shaking her head and finally laughed, throwing and arm around her sister’s shoulders. “Ooooooh, my little sister is getting so grown up!”

“Get off me, old lady,” Laushin laughed, pushing her away.

Behind them, Zarack laughed at the sudden antics of the two sisters. “It’s good to see those two together – I thought Laushin was going to wallow away until her cat was cured.”

“A hunter’s pet is a precious thing,” Xigoshura answered simply.

“So it is – Hey! I wonder if Moonwind has ever considered having a rogue for a pet,” he laughed, grinning with his jest and receive the tiniest of amused smiles from the warrior in return before it slipped back to his normal demeanor. It wasn’t difficult to take note of the elf’s eyes never leaving the younger of the two women ahead. “Or maybe Laushin would take a warrior, eh?”

“She will find fit who she finds fit.”

His simple answers weren’t nearly as fun as Zarack had hoped for, and the rogue decided to let it die for the moment. “So did she give you anymore details on what happened..?”

“I did not ask,” he adjusted the sword at his side. “She will tell me, if she wishes.”

”You know, Xigo, you’re really odd sometimes,” he sighed in return. “Rune and I took a long look at that powder… I know it’s poison of some sort, but the resonance in it is so much deeper than that… I wonder if that’s why Laushin went to that place. It’s troublesome.”

“We should focus on the matter at hand and not let our minds wonder to things we know not of.”

Zarack let out a sigh of exasperation and shook his head at Xigo. “You always did have a one-tracked mind.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The curse, in and of itself, was brilliantly crafted – it was the key to the insanity and bloodlust the powder bestowed it’s victims. Lamagra, for a fleeting moment, regretted that he had not been the one to create it, though ways to alter and implement it had already occurred to him. He put those thoughts aside for later prodding – now was the time for concentration, especially with lack of sleep trying to cloud in.

The poison, he had deducted, when combined with a trigger in the curse, slowly seeped the victim’s life away. That alone was an unnerving ingredient, but what effect came next made even his stomach clinch. Once dead, the disease would activate. It was a variant strain of the Plaque. A faster acting variant; though not contagious until it did, in fact, activate. The corpse would reanimate within an hour of its passing. Whether the mind would be intact or not, he could not know without more time for research. Regardless, this was a serious matter, indeed.

What still boggled him was what precisely tied the three points together. There was something holding them all in place – that much was obvious – like a string tied around a bundle of flowers. Pooling his senses within his mind, he closed his eyes and felt around the curse once more – that part he knew well by now. There had to be some key to what the string was, and how to untie it.

Eyes flickering back open, his brow furrowed as he stared down at the pile of dust on the scrap of waxed cloth. A seal. There was a seal of lighter magic woven in with the dark binds of the curse. A mage’s work, no doubt, so delicately placed and so small that it left virtually no resounding magic while being as strong as an iron clamp.

Emptying the contents of the waxed cloth carefully back into the vial, he gathered the plant, letter and his own notes before heading towards the spiraling staircase and exit, into the morning sun.

[Laushin]

Chapter 6: Lollipops

“I suggest you remember quickly. My friend has little patience tonight,” the hunter stated from across the room as she casually looked over her finger nails. “And I have less.”

“How the blazes would I know! I don’t deal with that damn forsaken anymore,” the goblin answered glaring back at the two indignantly. “He gypped me! Gypped me!”

Nighthawk sighed and glanced to Runewaybur. If the goblin had been gypped, he really wouldn’t know the forsaken rogue’s whereabouts.

“We should be hunting that troll too,” Rune’s voice grated as they left the inn, glowering at anything and everything they passed.

The desert wind blew through Gadgetzan, quickly cooling with the lack of the sun’s warmth. “We have a mission Rune. Laushin’s in good hands now, so put the troll from your mind. He will be delt with tomorrow.”

An unintelligible grumble was all she received in reply – most likely Gnomish from the sound of it, and it was likely a good thing she didn’t know what he said. After all, she didn’t want to become upset with him.

“Where to now, then?” his grumbling, while understandable, was slightly annoying as well. She could have certainly done with a bit more cheer – her heart aching for her bear, Nightmare brushed his nose across her fingers in an attempt at comfort.

“That was my last lead,” she sighed, shaking her head. “We could head back to Lights Hope Chapel, see if we can squeeze out any other clues…”

“Bah, we drained them for all they were worth – I say we go back to Ironforge and see what the others turned up, if anything,” at least he wasn’t grumbling anymore.

“Well, we’d have to stop by there on the way, anyhow,” she answered, turning towards the gryphon master. “Let’s be off.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The laugh was loud enough to turn quiet a few heads, but when the people of Ironforge saw its source they all went on their way. After all, the priest was known for his loud laughter… And drunken jokes. Grais and Guttya chuckled in kind at Regharis’ slightly off joke, leading the way through the milling crowds as the priest followed in their wake.

“And then –“ he stopped to take a deep breath and attempt to stifle his laughter – “And then I yelled ‘I like pink dresses and lollipops!’ before jumping off the cliff!”

Guttya’s eyes bulged and he nearly tripped in his sudden fit of laughter before looking back at the priest, “I can only imagine the look on their faces!”

“You are something else, Reg,” Grais chuckled. They were all in a surprisingly good mood – greatly in part, he knew, from Reg’s presence, but also in part from a mission successful. “Guttya, see if you can find Lohoi – I’ll send a note to Nighthawk. We need to start preparing.”

The elf nodded, gave a quick salute to his superior, light punch on the arm to the priest, and vanished into the over population.

“I’ll see who else can be gathered up on such short notice,” Regharis stated, his tone much more sober, if still cheerful. “We should have a few good fighters still milling about at this hour.”

Grais nodded to him and the two parted ways.

Of course, the priest new the very first place he should check – his feet lead him straight to the tavern, and a quick glance around found him in his proper place.

“Marus, Taegar, we’ve found him,” he told with a broad smile. “Hope your blades are oil and sharpened.”

Marus looked up with a raised eyebrow as Taegar nodded, his face falling from the mirth of the drink to the sourness of coming battle.

“Who?” Marus asked as Taegar’s chair scraped back. “What’s happening?”

”I’ll explain when everyone’s together,” Taegar answered. “We’ll meet you at the usual place, Reg.”

Nodding, the priest turned to head up the stairs and see who else might be wasting the night away with his favorite pass time.

“I tell you, curse or no, there’s something woefully unnatural about that dust,” Mellixia was stating soberly as she watched over the crowd.

“The disease too,” Shenai sighed, shaking her head. “It felt… familiar. Made my skin crawl, to be honest.”

“What dust?” the male priest couldn’t help but ask. The two women looked at each other, night elf and human, and he shook his head. “Never mind – we have business afoot tonight. If you two lovely ladies would kindly meet us all in our usual grounds…?”

“Of course – I trust one of the groups had some success, then?” Mellixia answered, pulling herself up straight. At Reg’s nod, she smiled, “Good. It will be well to see that scum burned.”

Shaking his head with a small chuckle, the priest departed once more. Many stops came and passed, but as he drew towards the end of his short journey through the mountain city, fewer people came into his path. A smile remained steady on his lips, despite the growing worry he hid. With luck, the others would have come across more and gathered them. With luck, the forsaken rogue would miraculously be alone, despite the information they had received. With luck, his, Mellixia’s and Shenai’s presence would not be necessary.

His feat finally lead him to another familiar part of Ironforge – the Mystical Ward. His fellow guild members milled in the far corner, near The Fighting Wizard, clustered in small groups, talking amongst themselves. Misstaken and Foreststomp, conversing in hushed voices to one side; Gwendwyn, Guttya and Runewaybur to another side. Joyanna, Astiasy, Marus and Mellixia spread near the center; Lohoi and his other four commanders at the center back. Adjusting his robes, the priest moved forward to take his proper place with the other commanders.

The guild’s leader cleared his throat and all heads turned to him, the gathering falling silent.

“Please come closer,” Lohoi had to raise his voice to be heard over the ever present sounds of Ironforge. As his people obliged, Reg glanced over to Lohoi. There were still numerous pieces of the puzzle missing to him – and others, he was sure – but he knew they would not be kept in the dark for much longer.

“As some of you may know,” he continued when they were all close enough to hear his normal tone, “Nighthawk and Laushin were attacked today, their pets poisoned with an unknown substance that our people are already hard at work to find a cure on. However, the beasts’ conditions are worsening…” It took him several moments to fill in his group on the events of the day, but so many pieces clicked into sickening place that Reg’s smile faded from view. “Our job tonight,” Lohoi had to raise his voice over a few murmurs in the gathering, but they quickly closed their mouths to allow him to continue, “Is to take the cure from the Forsaken that attacked Nighthawk, bring him to justice, and retrieve whatever information we can from him. Our reconnaissance work indicates that the rogue in question will not be alone this eve. How many scum he will have at his side is yet unknown, but it is doubtful their numbers will match ours, and surely not outnumber us. Our initial objective is to take him alive, through whatever means necessary.”

The dwarf paused to look over his people and gave a satisfied nod, “You all know your roles in battle better than a dwarf could hope for – I expect us to be back and whole in time for a decent sleep. Any questions?”

And the resounding agreement that all was ready, the small army began to make their way to the gryphons and Trisfal Glade.

[Laushin]

Chapter 7: And the Latter Well Manned

He’d not been able to help noticing her from the first day she had joined the Brigade’s reserve. Onyx hair held back in a loose braid with silver adornments, sapphire eyes that sparkled when she laughed, granite lips that looked more than plump enough for a few kisses, and a drop-dead figure. She was an excellent example of dwarven beauty – he had even taken note that a night elf or two had given her a second look. To top it off, she was walking right up to him.

“Um… where is everyone tonight, Hace..?” he couldn’t help but grin – her shyness around him was adorable.

“They had some things to take care of, Layn – nothin’ to be worried about. Was there somethin’ ye needed?” he returned, squaring his shoulders. Her being a fledgling priestess only improved his opinion. “I’d be more than happy to help ye, lass.”

“Oh, it’s… nothin’, really. Regharis was gonna go over a few things with me, but I guess my evenin’s free now,” she answered, nervously looking over the crowd.

“Ah, that’s right – taken ye under his wing, hasn’t he?” the dwarf priest chuckled in return.

She nodded, blushing a bit, “Though I worry that I’m botherin’ him more than anythin’…”

“Non-sense, lass! Nothin’ could bother that man – especially not such a pretty lass as yerself,” a perfect opening for a flirt. He grinned at her.

She blinked in surprise at him before breaking down in a nervous giggle, “So, um… what are ye doin’ tonight?”

“Well, with Lohoi gone and all, I’m in charge should anythin’ come up,” he puffed his chest out in pride as her eyes widened in surprise. “But I dunt expect anythin’ much to happen tonight. Should be dull ‘round here, I suspect. None the less, if ye have a problem, lass, you come get me an’ I’ll set it straight.”

“Th-thanks… but… if ye dunt have anythin’ to do… I was gonna grab a drink… or six,” she answered, nervously fidgeting with the edge of her tabard.

The grin that spread under his beard nearly split his face in two, “Lass, if ye want company, I’d be more than happy to oblige.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The rogue and his friends were to be staying at an abandoned farm just outside of Brill, from the information the Brigade had gathered. They had moved quickly to capture both the villain and the antidote for the poison he and his friend had bestowed on two of their hunters’ pets. However, the night was not cooperating. The dull, cold drizzle that fell from the spring night sky did little to mask the unnerving silence and sickening smell of death the land held.

“I can see nothing,” Gwendwyn hissed in annoyance as her gaze moved across the down trodden farm, “And feel little more.” The rain did, however, mask the senses of the hunters who had ventured forth on this forsaken land to scout the area.

Nighthawk shook her head beside her fellow hunter, their pets hunkering down beside them against the lingering cold. “We can get closer.”

“Are you mad? Without any support?” the white-haired elf fired back, voice still no more than a whisper as her widened eyes ventured to her companion. “If they have a hunter in there as well, we would be picked out and slain before we could raise our bows in defense.”

Gritting her teeth, Nighthawk looked ready to take that chance for a moment, before finally nodding in agreement. “Then we report back – we at least no there can be no more than a dozen of them in that small house.”

A muted sigh of relief was received and the women turned to return to their companions.

“So… From one hunter to another, I have to ask – if your pet was taken out and you had a rogue in your face, how exactly did you come out of it nearly unscathed?” It was clear the question had been on the elf’s mind for a good portion of the night. In all honesty, Nighthawk had been expecting it.

“I got lucky – Misstaken happened upon us moments after he attacked me. She sent him running with a fireball on his tail,” Nighthawk answered with the tiniest of smiles. “Helped me subdue Grimrage too-“ this brought a sigh and whipped away the smile “- and got me back to Ironforge in one piece. Mellixia took care of me before anyone saw what had happened, really… Guess I’m lucky that I also know an armor smith who’s quick about his work with a wink from me.”

Gwendwyn was silent for a long moment as they walked. She tossed her hair over her shoulder and looked up at the sky. The rain was coming down harder now. “Luck is something we all seem to have when it comes to others within the guild… Grimrage will be back to himself in no time and we’ll make this filthy rogue pay for the audacity of attacking one of ours. After all,” she turned her gaze back to her fellow, an almost twisted smile spreading across her lips as they entered the waiting ranks of their comrades, “Hell hath no fury.”

Nighthawk gave Gwen a small smirk of a smile before turning and saluting Lohoi, “The rain made it nigh impossible to get an exact count of what we’re going against, but there can’t be more than a dozen of them in that small house.”

The paladin nodded and turned back to look over his men – and women – with the grimness only one who had seen war could know. “You all know the plan, and your rolls. Move out.”

Taking a piece of cured meat from her saddlebag for Nightmare, she watched in silence as the three rogues vanished from sight and began to make their way to their proper places.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

She was young and inexperienced, most would say, only a little over halfway through her training as a mage. That, however, meant little to the tiny gnome – her mind was keener than most, her wit as sharp as a warrior’s blade. There were still many things to learn, it was true, but already there were things she had discovered that the high and mighty of Ironforge did not know of before.

Right then, though, her mind was not on subjects of the arcane. A member of the Brigade had been hurt, and from what little she had been able to gather, the elf was still in danger. She had followed Shenai and the others to the inn in Ironforge where the hunter’s wounds were treated. She had heard the discussion of what had happened to the hunter’s pet. Of course, the hunter was head-strong and had trotted off to Stormwind without her armor while it was being repaired. She didn’t even have her bow. Later, the gnome had learned of the bounty upon the elf’s head.

Manaburn tisked at the load on her back. Nobody had asked her to do this. Nobody even had a clue as to what she was about. She did it because, once, that mule-headed night elf had been kind to her, helped her with something that had probably seemed small to the hunter, but, it had made an impression. Of course, she liked how stubborn Laushin was as well.

Smiling to herself, shifted her load again as the enormous gryphon swooped around one tree after another. The elf was going to owe her lunch – her mail and weapons were certainly not light.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Guttya fingered his dagger as he pressed himself against the back wall of the house beside one of the doors. This wasn’t his first time to be on the attack against unknown odds, and it certainly wasn’t going to be the last. Nonetheless, he could already feel the adrenaline starting to course through his veins, his muscles coiled like a cat’s, ready to spring to action.

A crash resounded as the front door was bashed down and he took his queue to slip inside unnoticed, the back door left open for Runewaybur to follow, also unseen. Already, chaos reigned inside, Lohoi, Taegar and Marus at the heart of it. The snarl of the two hunters’ pets was nearly drowned out by the roars of unholy anger that made his skin want to crawl off his body.

His target now in view, Guttya moved, yet unseen, behind the unsuspecting undead warlock. The putrid green and purple lights of his summoning surrounded both the elf and the undead alike as Guttya’s blade plunged into the creature’s spine. It’s ear-wrenching scream, the putrid smell of decay… He drew his blade back as his other one cleanly took the thing’s head.

The foul, unnatural being dropped at the elf’s feet, but not before he managed a malevolent grin at his assailant. Not taking time to note what the warlock had been about, nor what the thing was pleased over, Guttya turned – just in time to have an arrow fly past where his head had just been and land squarely in the wall behind him. There was no time for surprise. He dropped to the ground, rolling between Marus and the vile orc he was engaged with. The warrior grunted in shock as the rogue sprung from the floor without warning to slide his dagger easily under the mail covered ribs.

“Get that damn hunter,” he growled to Marus, twisting the knife as the orc roared in agony and fury.

He wasn’t prepared for the lightning that threw him back against the wall, nor the magical light that took his prey and sealed the wounds he and Marus had inflicted. A shaman, his mind reeled as he gasped for breath against the agony coursing through his entire body.

“Fuck the hunter,” Marus spit beside him, pulling himself up from the wall before Guttya could regain his own footing. The man’s infamous bloodlust was setting in. They were going to need it.

[Laushin]

Chapter 8: Top of the Morn!

Everything around him seemed to slow down, as though everyone was moving through molasses, a heavy dread settling over his heart. His dagger slipped easily enough into the shaman’s back as the orc focused first on Marus. A foolish move on the orc’s behalf – or would have been if things had been right. If only things were right…

Yes, something was horribly wrong. He could feel himself growing weaker by the moment, his life slipping away, but knew it was not from the lightening. Horribly, horribly wrong…

He shook his head hard in an attempt to clear his mind as the orc continued to ignore him, despite the gaping wound in his back. The idiot would die on his blade; that much was clear. He was hardly aware of Marus, in front of the shaman, growling against the magic and yelling incoherent things to him. Was it incoherent..?

“Dammit, you stupid elf, knock out that damn totem!” the warrior roared again and Guttya blinked at him for a second before turning to kick the thing over. That explained the heat he’d been suffering through…

No, something was gravely wrong. He slammed his blade carelessly into the back of the shaman’s neck as Marus took one of the beast’s legs. It dropped like a stone at their feet, and the warrior shot a glare at the rogue before turning to engage a new foe.

He had no more time to think on the matter as, without warning, a disease-riddled bear sprung upon him, knocking him back against the wall, its teeth digging into his arm. He grunted louder than he normally would have from the pain that shot through his arm and into his shoulder, but already his free hand was moving, driving the dagger deep into the side of the bear’s exposed ribcage. The stench turned his stomach. He pulled his blade free and rolled to the side, the shock of the attack on the animal causing its jaws to loosen.

An arrow shot past where his head had been, landing deeply in the ground behind him. The bear sprung forward again, claws flying at his face. Flat on his back, the claws found air, his dagger found corrupted heart. The bear dropped.

Renewed adrenaline clearing his hazy mind, he leapt to his feet and flew towards the hunter as the troll’s carefully aimed shot came to naught. He was on top of the villain before it could fire on him, a sick grin twisting handsome features as the blade found home in the troll’s throat. He hadn’t noticed the black wolf until it snarled and tore away at the troll’s leg below him. An arrow streaked out of nowhere, slamming into the blue-tinged temple. Nighthawk turned to her next victim before the rogue could more than glance at her.

A wave of dizziness reminded him of his concerns from moments before. That wave of dizziness found a dagger in his own back. Eyes wide in shock, he spun as the blade was removed.

“I will not kill you,” the forsaken hissed, grinning in a manner that literally split it’s decayed face in two, before vanishing.

Wrong. Horribly wrong… He was loosing blood, but he’d suffered worse wounds before. Much worse than this. Something wasn’t right at all… Unable to support him anymore, his knees found the ground. Gravely, horribly wrong…

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The fireball swept mere inches from the top of Runewaybur’s head to slam into the warlock’s back, just as the little rogue was upon him. He cursed to himself. The orc woman had turned to face Joyanna, eyes blazing with unholy light. Her imp sprang to her side, hurling a fireball back at the mage. He recognized the grunt the impact brought as Taegar’s voice. Always the protector, the thought skittered across the gnome’s mind as he slammed his maces into the cloth-covered side of putrid green flesh. The scream that ripped from her throat was more than enough to raise ever hair on his body, even as Taegar dashed past him.

The warrior’s mind was focused, if blazing with the furry of battle. His newest target wore plate, crafted much like his own. He gritted his teeth, driving his blade through the plate, weakening it for another hit. Another fireball, this time for yet another direction, slammed into the tauren’s back, setting the small bit of hair that protruded from its helm ablaze. Both were returned to him, much to his silent dismay. The tauren warrior’s blade found the slight imperfections in the human’s armor even as the troll mage’s fireball slammed against his shield, breaking flames over the guard to splatter heat across his helmeted head. But the pain lifted almost immediately. His long time friend was watching over him as always.

Lohoi’s gaze moved off of the warrior and to the mass of combat that had now filled the house – man and beast, blade and arcane, holy and natural all collided against each other even as he hefted his own enormous mace to engage the rogue that Gwendwyn’s flare had revealed. He was the one they wanted alive. Deeper in the battle, he heard the sounds of victims falling, saw his brigade still standing, now tag-teaming the remaining horde.

Victory was close.

“Incoming!” Nighthawk’s melodic voice was tinged with the strain of battle. “Guards from the north! An easy dozen!”

Mellixia growled in her bear form, as the mage she had engaged dropped, finally. The lot of them would need healing if they were to handle another wave. “Healers! Take your pos-“

“Man down!” Foreststomp’s voice rang out from across the room. “Mellixia, hurry! He has the Curse of Doom!”

Rays of rising sunlight pooled on the floor as the battle shifted, revealing the warlock's position, kneeling beside Guttya's fallen form.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The first rays of the morning sun were just creeping over the tops of the roofs in Stormwind as Lamagra strode purposely towards the Trade District. His mind was still a flurry with the findings he had made that night, his brow drawn together as he contemplated which of the Brigade’s mages to set the task of untying the arcane knot upon. The “poison” dust was fascinating and terrifying, even to him. And the plant he held in his hands now… He frowned down at the wrappings that covered it. So many triggers were held in that plant, it didn’t seem right for the thing to be even a forced combination of nature. If it were up to him, the plant would be burned and the ashes thrown from the top of the Red Ridge Mountains.

Of course, that was not up to him.

“Lamagra!” a feminine voice laden thick with the accent of dwarves hailed him from across the bridge. He raised a speculative eyebrow at the priestess that trotted towards him. “Glad I caught ye! Lohoi wants to get that plant back in his ‘ands.”

“Does he, now,” he answered, frowning over her tabard – one of their reserve, but she was obviously severely lacking in skill. “And you are…?”

She blinked at him in surprise before digging in her bag to produce a folded parchment and hand to him. “Layn, Khaz Modan Reserve –“ as if he couldn’t plainly see her tabard “- and here. Lohoi’s orders, I swear it. Dunt worry! I’ll be takin’ a gryphon right back – he just couldn’ get away from the City right now, so he asked me to come.”

He took the note slowly, watching as she nervously chewed on her lower lip. He’d never met the girl before, though he’d heard her name mentioned by Hace once, recently. Unfolding the parchment, he frowned at the hastily scrawled letter and wax seal.

The bearer of this letter speaks on my authority.

Signed,
Lohoi
Khaz Modan Brigade

The hand writing, though hasty, was recognizable as the dwarf’s – as was his seal, clearly impressed below his signature. Why the devil that paladin would give such a young girl so much power as this letter held was beyond Lamagra, but on the other hand… He could not exactly deny what was laid before him.

“So it would seem,” he finally sighed – her sigh a reflection of his in relief. Reluctantly, he handed over the cloth-wrapped plant. “I’ll escort you as well.”

“No, really, it’s quiet alright,” she answered, and he frowned heavily. Had her accent just slipped? “Laushin’ll be waiting for the cure at the Inn, still! I’ll be alright – I’m going straight to the gryphons!”

Her nervous, beaming smile brought another sigh from the warlock. She was only doing what was asked of her. He would have a talk with Lohoi later over his choice of delivery-girls, though. This was verging on ridiculous.

“Well…” he paused, frowning as he glanced off to the side. Some odd movement had caught his gaze. Something near the crates in the corner of the canal. He narrowed his eyes, staring intently at the area, before finally looking back to the dwarf… Only to find her gone.

He cursed and strode quickly towards the gryphon master’s stable near the front of the district – just in time to see her zoom off into the sky. Something wasn’t right, aside from Lohoi sending such an inexperienced priest to deliver such an important and valuable item. Hesitating in indecision, he finally turned and headed towards the Gilded Rose.

[Galidon]

“And then –“ he stopped to take a deep breath and attempt to stifle his laughter – “And then I yelled ‘I like pink dresses and lollipops!’ before jumping off the cliff!”

((Ahh i'm such a hoot! I've said it before, so i'll say it again. One of the best storys i've seen. Its keeping me on the edge of my seat and i'm wanting more :P))

[Laushin]

((Haha, yeah, I'll never let you live that one down. XD Btw, does the original Reg still have that pink dress?))

Chapter 9: Blood Rose

The morning sun shown gently through the inn room’s window, glimmering off midnight blue hair that spread over her pillow like a blanket. The silver band that normally kept the long locks in place dangled from a delicate finger. Her face was the epitome of peacefulness, eyes closed and lips parted in blissful sleep.

Xigoshura hesitated as his hand came down to take hold of Laushin’s shoulder and wake her. He would be bringing her back from the serenity of the night. He would be bringing her back to the harshness of the waking world, to the pain he would gladly take upon himself, if it meant her happiness.

His hand fell back to his side, his gaze moving up to the other two occupants of the room. In the other bed, Laushin’s elder sister still lay sound asleep as well, curled around her pillow. Zarack lounged in the chair he had occupied that previous evening, his had fallen back as he snoozed. The rogue had attempted to stay awake through the night as the warrior had done, but the alcohol had not permitted him.

The warrior’s gaze turned back to the younger of the hunter-sisters. He knew that she would want to see what Lamagra had found as quickly as possible, but, as he watched her slow, peaceful breaths of sleep, he regretted that he could not simply let her lay there under his protective gaze. A sigh nearly escaped his lips before he swallowed it back. The desire to simply touch her cheek, her hair was quickly stamped out.

A nudge against the back of his knee nearly lost him his balance and he glanced over his shoulder in admitted surprise. Cres, Laushin’s bear, looked back up at him, cocked its head to the side, then nudged him again. He chuckled silently, allowing a small smile for the beast as it looked up at him again before moving to lay its head near Laushin’s hand on the bed. Again, it looked at him, then back to her. The “hint” was obvious enough. He patted the bear’s head before reaching over to brush a lock of her hair back from her face and then gently took hold of her shoulder.

“Laushin,” he whispered, bending down so that she would be able to hear him, while not disturbing the others. “Laushin, wake up.”

Her eyes opened slowly, coming to focus on him as a sleepy smile spread over her beautiful face. His heart skipped a beat, though his face never changed.

“’Morning, handsome,” she murmured in return, her hand moving to Cres’s head without having to look away from him with that tempting smile.

Every movement stopped, even his breathing, as his wide-eyes darted to her’s. It seemed, to him, that he stood there, bent half over, like an idiot, for an eternity. She giggled quietly before stretching. Her gaze breaking from him allowed him to finally straighten and quietly cleared his throat as his brain groped for something to say. “I thought you would wish to contact Lamagra immediately this morning.”

The smile slipped from her face and he felt his heart sink in return as she spoke, careful to keep her voice as quiet as his. “Yes, of course…”

Well played, fool… If only the circumstances were different. I will see you smiling again soon, Laushin, I promise it. His gaze moved once more to the still-sleeping companions in the room before returning to his secret love. She stood before the mirror, combing her hair back up into her standard ponytail. I swear it, Laushin. Whatever it takes.

“Where are you two off to,” the human’s voice broke the silence and his train of thought. “Didn’t think you’d sneak by me, did you?”

“Hush,” a voice murmured from under the blankets of the other bed, “I was having a nice dream…”

“About me?” Zarack piped back with a teasing, if hopeful, grin. A pillow flying through the air to smack him in the face was the only answer as Moonwind pulled herself out of bed as well.

“We’re just going to see what Lamagra has found out,” Laushin answered with a sigh, turning to strap her pole arm onto her back. “Go ahead and get some breakfast – we’ll be back in just a bit.”

The rogue and elder hunter exchanged a glance before they nodded in consent.

“We’ll see if any word has come from Ironforge,” Moonwind answered, starting to strap her own armor back on. “Hurry back.”

A few moments later found the two night elves in the streets of Stormwind’s Trade District – but no farther than the exit to the Inn before a call pulled their attention.

“Laushin – you owe me a mid-day meal,” a cheerful, high-pitched voice called.

Turning towards the call, Laushin’s dark gaze lightened a bit, “What the devil do you have, Manaburn? Your entire bank vault?”

The little gnome huffed in reply, rolling the huge bag off her back and onto the ground at their feet with a loud clink, “Just a few things I thought you would be needing in your present predicament.”

Xigoshura bowed before her in greeting, then gave one of his rare, tiny smiles to the gnome – the sound was enough to tell him what was in that bag. Laushin’s exclamation only confirmed it.

“My armor and weapons! Burn, you didn’t have to do this!”

She grinned in reply, shrugging ever so slightly, “I wanted to see how things were going anyways. You were in such a huff yesterday – not that I blame you, mind.”

“Oh, well… I’m alright. I’d like to get my hands on that troll, but I’m sure we’ll give him hell this afternoon at our ‘meeting’.”

His gaze moved back to the elf, watching passively, even as he knew the truth. She was good at hiding her true feelings when she wanted to.

“You’re going to that meeting?” the mage gasped in return. “Do you want me to come with you? I mean,” her gaze darted to him, “I’m sure you’d be fine, but another set of eyes and a few fireballs along wouldn’t hurt.”

“Well this certainly makes my task easier,” a new voice stated from down the path before Laushin could answer. Lamagra strode purposely towards them. “Just the gnome I was looking for – I have need of your expertise and uncanny deduction abilities, Manaburn.”

“What did you discover,” Laushin piped up before Manaburn could even open her mouth.

Taking her hand, Lamagra bowed over it, kissing her knuckles, “The most complex combination of a curse, poison, disease and magical seal I have yet to encounter. However, fear not milady, it is almost completely untied now. While I hate to cut this short, it would be best for Manaburn and I to get to work on the final puzzle piece immediately – if that is acceptable, my dear mage?”

The gnome beamed back at him, “I’d love to help!”

Xigoshura, while watching on passively, suddenly frowned, taking note of the bundles in Lamagra’s arms – particularly the lack of one package. “Forgive me, Lamagra, but where is the plant?”

The warlock frowned down at his armful and the warrior felt his stomach clench before he finally answered, “Lohoi sent for it – the courier was from our reserve and bore a letter enabling her to act on his behalf. I had no choice but to release it to her after examining the missive and learning that Lohoi had specifically requested it. I do not like being forced to hand over such a valuable asset to someone as inexperienced as that little dwarf, but orders are orders. I plan to speak with our leader on the matter once this riddle is solved.”

“Dwarf? Who was it?” Laushin asked from his side. He could feel her tensing, took silent note of her fingers caressing the end of her pole arm.

“A young priestess by the name of Layn.”

“I have met this girl before…” Xigoshura started, but his voice trailed off as his gaze caught a familiar tabard running at full tilt into town, a bloodied package under the young man’s arm. The bearer of package and tabard was not one he had met before, but the panic on his face was clear enough. The warrior sped forward, easily catching up with the human. “What is the problem?”

The man nearly jumped from his garments before spinning to first take in the much taller, much more dominating figure, then finally the tabard. “I need to find Lohoi immediately – where is he?”

“Ironforge,” Lamagra answered from beside the warrior. “What do you have there.”

The man took in the warlock before finally deciding that he was the one to talk to, oddly enough. The little imp that pocked out from behind his legs suddenly made the reason clear, though. “It was tossed at my feet – I could not find the person who did it; I do not know why it was done…”

“Kamerius,” Laushin spoke coming up behind them. “Are you well? You look pal- By Elune. That’s blood… and the reserve’s tabard…”

Nodding regretfully, the warlock slowly unwrapped the package just enough for the group to see the contents. Layn’s dead gaze met them, her face contorted in horror and frozen in death. Manaburn gasped below them, her hands covering her mouth. Laushin’s fingers found and gripped Xigoshura’s thumb tightly as the color drained from her face.

“The plant,” Lamagra hissed, eyes narrowing as his teeth ground together. “I knew something was not right.”

“Lamagra, see that Moonwind and Zarack take this to Ironforge,” Xigoshura ordered bluntly, taking the gory package from the young warlock and covering it once more before handing it to the man he spoke to. “Then return to your pervious work. They should be waiting in the inn. Laushin, stay with Mo-“

“No,” she snapped in return, so abrupt that he was forced to look back at her in surprise, though his face showed nothing to anyone who did not know him as well as she did. The horror that had taken her gaze before was now replaced with a deadly determination. “I will accompany you. You’ll never find him without my tracking abilities.”

“…Very well.” He turned back to the young warlock. “Take us to where you found this.”

[Laushin]

Chapter 10: If at First You Don’t Succeed…

“Keep them off me! Regharis, get over here – keep him alive. His death is ours,” Mellixia’s normally docile tones had transformed to brisk and decisive barks.

Her gaze never left her patient, his brow drawn down, even in unconsciousness. Not a common curse, by any means, she had a strong suspicion it was an effort of making sure that if their foes perished, those here from the Brigade would as well – or worse yet, to ensure that everyone there perished, to hold some secret safe…

She pushed the thoughts away as the battle ebbed and flowed around her. The reason did not matter now – only the solution, only keeping Guttya alive and removing the vile curse from him.

“Stay with us, you stupid rogue,” she heard a male voice mutter beside her, though no contempt was reflect in the words – only determination and hope. Regharis closed his eyes, praying desperately as a soft light began to envelope the prone night elf.

Mellixia closed her eyes as well, concentrating her energies on their friend, calling nature to cleanse him of the foul taint.

Beside them, Astiasy grunted as his axe met with air. The mage had vanished and reappeared behind one of the ever-present rogues. The two trolls grinned at the dwarven paladin – the rogue vanishing before his eyes as a fireball flew through the space he had previous occupied – heading directly towards him. Cursing under his breath, he mutter a quick prayer, but not fast enough. The fireball crashed against the his plate armor, heating it and melting it to his flesh. His echoing bellow of agony was cut short by the edge of the rogue's blade taking his head. An injured forsaken leapt upon the corpse as soon as it feel, ripping pieces of flesh from the form to regenerate it's own wounds.

Regharis ground his teeth around the prayer that constantly moved his lips. He had no time for the fallen. As quickly as he was healing, now, the curse was killing. It was all he could do to keep the balance and not let Guttya fall over the edge. His own pool of mana was diminishing inside of him, all of it being poured into the night elf. Beside him, her heard Mellixia muttering under her breath as well. Hurry, he pleaded silently, fishing out a potion from his bag and downing it in one fast gulp.

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Hace paced the inn silently, brow furrowed in deep thought. For one, he could not recall a good portion of the previous evening – when he had awoken, Layn had been gone. The only clue that she had been there at all was one of her silver barrettes adorning the night stand. However, that was a dull thought in the back of his mind – what plagued him now was the missing letter Lohoi had given him. For a moment, he had wondered if Layn had taken it, but quickly banished the thought. She was one of the purest, most honest lasses he had met, to date.

“Hace!” the melodic, familiar tone didn’t sound nearly as calm as it normally did. “Where’s Lohoi?”

He turned, raising an eyebrow as Moonwind strode towards him. “He’s out – left me in charge for now. What’s the problem, lass?”

Frowning, the hunter looked around the room – there were very few people up and about this early, but nonetheless, she nodded up the stairs. Once they were behind a closed door, she set a large sac on a table and reluctantly opened it.

His heart skipped a beat. The blood-stained tabard fell away, revealing its gory secret. Layn’s petrified, vacant gaze bore into his eyes, into his heart. Who would have done such a thing? Why would they have…? His mind began to boil with anger, his hands balling into fists at his side.

“It… she was tossed at Kamerius’ feet, from what I am told,” Moonwind stated with a heavy sigh. “Xigoshura and Laushin are having him show them where – Zarack went to follow them.” She hesitated, then covered the decapitated head again.

“I see,” he more growled than stated, eyes not leaving the wad of bloodied cloth.

“But it’s worse…”

His gaze jerked to her, darker than he could ever have realized. “Out with it.”

“We think they mind-controlled her… She used some letter and managed to get the plant from Lamagra.” She paused, glancing cautiously towards him. “I doubt the package will be found lying out in the woods of Elwynn.”

The color drained from his face and he swallowed back a howl. “Rally any who can be found.”

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Sound was the first thing to return to him. The screams of agony and death, the clashing of blades, the twang of a loosed arrow, the growl of beasts, the eerie crackling of magic.

“It is done,” a tone like water sliding over glass whispered in his native tongue, then repeated a bit louder in common.

A man sighed heavily and he felt a final surge of cleansing energy pass through him. “Praise be to the Light…”

Slowly, his eyes opened to meet with the druid and the priest’s gazes. “What…” he began then cleared his throat, his gaze moving over their shoulders to the ensuing battle. He frowned sharply, unable to recall what had just happened.

“Curse of doom,” Foreststomp answered in such a calm tone, one would never have guessed he was draining the soul of his victim, his imp throwing fireball upon fireball at the filthy undead.

“Can ye fight, lad,” Lohoi called over his shoulder as he dispatched of a deathgaurd. Where had they come from? Regaurdless, the rogue pushed himself to his feet, stepping past his two saviours.

“Always,” he answered the commander first, before glancing at the two beside him. “And thank you – I am beyond indebted.”

“Just glad to see you on your feet again,” the priest answered, standing and turning to find his next patient or victim.

“Don’t thank us yet,” Mellixia added, and with a poof of smoke, a large cat stood where she had just been. The beast jerked it’s head towards the battle then dashed into the foray.

Adjusting the grip on his blades, he stepped backwards and seemed to fold into the shadows. Across the room, he saw a small flash in the opposing shadows and smiled to himself, starting to move again.

The bone-chilling scream of death stopped him, momentarily, though. Beside him, Foreststomp's form collapased. The last traces of the demonic magics that had claimed his soul fading even as Guttya turned a deadly gaze upon his new target.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Yes, I see it,” Manaburn stated, shaking her head. “It looks simple at first, but… It’s so layered, and so delicate… One wrong move could collapse the entire seal, triggering the ward. It’s a tangled mess!”

Sighing, Lamagra looked out the window at the slowly rising sun. “Do you think you can handle it..?” She would say yes, of course. “I could always go to the mage’s tower – have someone else look at it, if you prefer.” She would hate that – but the comment would certainly intice her to her best efforts. She was always trying to prove herself.

“Abosultely not! This is child’s play!”

I thought you said it was a tangled mess.., he answered in his mind, biting back a small chuckle. “I have full confidence in your abilities, Manaburn. I am sure you won’t disappoint me.”

She didn’t answer, and instead bowed her head over the powder, poking at it both figuratively and literally. It seemed that an eternity passed as he waited, each second wearing on him. He wanted to be out, assisting Laushin and Xigoshura in their search. There was no telling the odds they were up against – or if they would miss some key clue that he would have seen. He stilled his fingers from their drumming, though the little gnome didn’t seem to notice or mind.

“That’s it!” the exclamation nearly made him jump as the mage lept from her seat to stand on the chair. The explanation of the inner workings of the seal and ward came so fast, and ran over each other so much, he could hardly keep up. “Want me to try it?”

She was beaming so brightly, he couldn’t help but smile in return. “By all means, milady.”

Her hands drew up, and a steady glow began to grow around her fingers, extending to the baneful dust. Without warning, the dust flashed blindingly white. When his vision cleared, what had once been solid brown, was now a mixture of red and yellow grains. He let his own mind flow over the contents of the waxed cloth – to discover the curse dissolved.

“It worked! It worked!” she cheered from across the table, and he nodded at her with one of his reserved smiles.

“Then I believe it is time a certain two hunters’ pets received a visit.”

[Laushin]

Chapter 11: Ring Around The Rosie

The tracks took them south, through Elwynn Forest, through the decrepit Duskwood, through the dank Deadwind Pass and finally into the Swamp of Sorrows. Their mounts labored breath went barely noticed as they pressed the great cats to their fullest speed. Ahead, the undead priest sneered over his shoulder from its rotted stead before whipping it faster. The terrible package it had stolen from Layn was clasped closely against its hollow chest, the remaining flesh of its horse flapping around magically animated muscles.

And it was gaining speed.

“Are you in bow range?” Xigoshura asked over the scrape of claw against beaten road.

“No,” Laushin growled in return, “but we can’t let him get to the town! We’ll never get the plant back if he does!”

The warrior fell silent once more, pressing himself against his mount, vainly urging the beast to greater speed, as the huntress did the same.

A flash of light off of metal.

The bone-chilling cry of the undead horse collapsing under blade.

The guttural screams of outrage from the Forsaken priest as he toppled to the ground.

Zarack moved with lightening speed, slipping back into the shadows, only to reappear behind the fiend, driving his blades into the rotted flesh of its back. The priest howled in fury as Laushin’s arrow flew from her bow, snagging the package from his hands and pinning it to the far tree. In another flash of movements, Xigoshura leapt from his mount, slamming his shield into the priest’s face before it could cast its wretched spell. Form the shadows, another figure errupted into action. Xarkane’s blade brought the priest's final silence, opening the wind pipe so that its head fell against its back and the body crumpled into a pile of filth on the ground.

Panting from the chase, Laushin placed her drawn arrow back into its quiver on her back as Xigoshura moved to retrieve the package. “How did you…”

“I figured this was where he would run,” Zarack answered, shrugging absently. “Seemed the most logical place… I flew to Darkshire ahead of you and ran into Xark playing gaurdian for the town. We rode in and waited here to see if I was correct.”

Xarkane shrugged absently, sliding his blades back into his belt, “Not too bright, if you ask me, this priest. He took the obvious path – he didn't stand a chance.”

“Good thinking on your parts, none the less,” Xigoshura answered quietly, giving his mount a gentle pat on the nose. “We should be away from here – quickly.”

“Agreed,” the rogues and huntress answered in unison.

“Didja reallah tink i'd be daht easy, mon?” that grating trollish voice asked from the shadows.

“You,” Laushin hissed, blades leaping to her hands. Movement sprung from all around the three and she heard Xarkane quietly curse under his breath.

Two and a half to one, easily. Where was the cavalry when you needed it?

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Out of my way, woman,” Lamagra growled in frustration, “or would you have those animals dead?”

“A warlock!” she spat the name like a curse. “A warlock here to help hunters’ pets? Do you think I’m mad!”

“Do you not recognize my tabard? Do you not know our sigil when you see it – the same sigil the hunters you speak of wear?”

The dwarven woman hesitated, glancing between him and the gnomish mage at his side. “I could loose my job for this… You’d best make things right.”

He bowed in mock humility, his frustration with the day wearing thin on his normally calm demeanor. “My lady, if I was here to cause harm there is nothing you could do to stop it.”

She blinked at him in suppressed horror as Manaburn erupted into giggles at his side.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

His head ached with the adrenaline and blood pumping far too quickly through his veins. He panted as his gaze moved around the interior of the house, trying to catch his breath from the end of the battle. Corpses lay upon each other, the dead gazes staring vacantly back at him, up at the ceiling, down in the floor, every direction. Tauren, trolls, orks and forsaken. His heart felt cold, though, despite the heat in his body remaining from the fight.

Dwarves, humans, elves and gnomes littered the floor as well, adorned with the Brigade's tabard. The Brigade didn't loose people. The Brigade always come out victorious.

He watched silently as Mellixia, Shenai and Regharis moved from corpse to corpse, each time raising to shake their heads at him. The soul of this one drained and taken beyond their reach. The flesh of that one consumed by forsaken until there was not enough of the body left for a resurrection.

The Brigade never lost members. The Brigade stood strong, always returned in one piece. The Brigade always completed it's objective.

“We lost him,” a voice called from the doorway, it's owner's gaze down cast with the shame. “He vanished without a trace... I'm sorry, Commander.”

Lohoi was silent for a long moment, not looking at Gwendwyn and Nighthawk. Their query had escaped two of his strongest hunters.

The mission was officially a failure. The Brigade never failed. Nighthawk was crying. They'd failed more than their objective. They'd failed too many of their own.

“Gather the dead,” the finally intoned heavily, turning to where what was left of Astiasy lay. “We return to Ironforge.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The mage and warlock worked in perfect unison, the gnome's voice whispering over the human's as their spells and incantations drew the binding and curse from the two hunters' pets. The effect was instant, and he couldn't help but smile as the dwarven stable master behind him sighed in relief. The giant cat and bear looked around in confusion, whimpering for their masters and greedily taking the offered food from the dwarf.

“Ye did it!” she was laughing, as she hugged each of the animals in turn.

“Of course we did! We are the best, as I'm sure you know,” Manaburn answered with her own laugh, holding her head high and puffing her chest out with pride.

Lamagra couldn't help the small chuckle as well as he stood and turned to the gnome mage. “We should see about finding a druid to remove the poison and disease that still remains.”

She nodded, all but bouncing in place, “I think I saw Svaldora over by the Tram when we came by! I'll go see if-”

The screeching of Laushin's panther cut her off, jerking all eyes to the beast. It threw it's head back, roaring in agony. Nighthawk's bear echoed it, growling and whimpering. The dwarven woman gasped in horror, looking to the mage and warlock as the beasts collapsed to the ground, not moving.

“You killed them! What did you do to them?! You KILLED them!”

[Galidon]

((Haha, yeah, I'll never let you live that one down. XD Btw, does the original Reg still have that pink dress?))


(( he never did get that pink dress. I slacked off at the moonglade thing, and i still havn't found anyone that would make me an Easter Dress >< ))

[Netherlyn]

((More?))

<3

[Rhowen-Prea]

(( Keep it comin'! ))

[Laushin]

((Sorry I haven't finished and posted 12 yet, guys. ^^() My work load has been killing me this week - like so-stressed-out-I-break-down-crying-at-work type of killing me. Don't worry, I'm finishing this story soon. I just had to take a little cool down thanks to work.))

[Shadowspeak]

((Hurry! Im so caught up in it! eh heh))

[Laushin]

((er, done! >_> Just a few more chapters to go to complete the whole story, now. ^^ ))

Chapter 12: Pocket Full of Posies

“Get a priest over here, NOW!”

Lamagra's voice echoed through the vast caverns of the grand dwarven city, ringing with the underscore of his demonic powers. Numerous heads whipped around to find it's source, but instead found the area around the stables erupted into bickering and night chaos.

“What did you do to them, warlock! What trickery is this?! This is your doing,” the stable master shouted, not caring what the warlock now was attempting to do.

“Woman, if you value your place in this existence you will silence your tounge,” he growled in return. Manaburn was already running for the Tram, tears flowing down her cheeks as she sought one of their members.

“Oh! Oh! Now you threaten me! As if what you already did was not enough!”

“I am not threatening you! Get out of my way, they might still be saved!”

“Don't do this, Stable master, don't get in that one's way. He's a killer, but he's of the Khaz Modan Brigade.”

“He'll kill of the animals if we let him by!”

“What under Elune is going on here,” that one, quiet demand silenced everyone present. The melodic tone held the sort of command that few truly possessed, but there was a small trembling under it as well. Every gaze turned to watch as Nighthawk strode purposely forward. “Were you successful, Lamagra? How are our-”

Her words cut off sharply, her gaze snapping to the two masses of fur that lay on the floor. She whispered in Darnassian. Her composure seemed to crumble around her form until nothing was left but the woman laid bare. Her feet took her slowly forward and she feel to her knees beside the massive bear. Tears welled in her eyes.

“How..?” she whispered, her gaze raising once more to meet his. Something in his heart seemed to tighten. “Why..? You were to save them...”

He shook his head slowly, closing his eyes. He didn't have answers for her. Not yet. He couldn't bear to tell her that. “I'm sorry, Nighthawk... We did all we could.”

She stared back at him for another moment, as if trying to comprehend what he had said. Slowly, her head turned back to the beasts and she lowered her head to bury her face in the animal's fur. The sobs that wracked her body were more than he could bear to watch, but that was not to be the end of it.

Laushin's panther was the first to open it's eyes, the orbs glowing with the magics of undeath. It stood slowly, shaking it's head, before glancing around, ears laid back against it's head. He watched, mouth slightly agape in spite of himself. The beast had turned undead and risen too quickly. But what was he to do now? Strike it down? Destroy it for fear of it being contagious? How could he do that with Nighthawk standing right there?

The huntress in question jerked back from her mourning as her bear stirred under her as well. Much like the panther, it's eyes opened to reveal that same sickly glow, but instead of simply looking about in confusion, it turned towards Nighthawk, letting out a low growl.

Lamagra readied his staff, the spell on his tounge ready to be spoken and bring the creature to it's end.

“Grimrage...” the elf whispered, tears still streaming down her cheeks. “No... Grimrage, oh no... Not like this...”

The two beasts growled in return, eyes darting wildly about, panicked. Grimrage was the first of the two to leap at the huntress, razor sharp teeth bared as it lunged at her neck. Nighthawk moved before he could speak in the incantation, her blades leaping into her hands to take off the bear's head as her wolf tore at it's underside.

Veretta, however, had turned his attentions to him. The cat snarled at him before vanishing from sight. He spun in a circle, eyes narrowing, searching for the creature he knew wished to taste his flesh. A flare shot into the air and landed beside him and the cat emerged from the shadows. The demonic words left his tounge even as the beast lunged at him. Nighthawk's arrow pierced it's side. With a howl of agony, the beast crumpled to the floor.

The two members of the Brigade stood in silence for a long moment as the crowd stared on. Finally, they glanced to each other, her with tears streaming down her face, him with such a darkened gaze as had not been seen in years.

“Burn the remains,” she finally told the stable master in no more than a whisper.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“DON'T YOU DARE TOUCH HER,” Xarkane bellowed, struggling against his captors, vainly attempting to free himself of their hold and get to her.

“Dammit, NO!” Zarack's cry sounded alongside Xarkane's, the two human rogues useless as they were held. They could not get to their flash powder, their weapons lay tauntingly a few feet away, out of their reach.

The troll shoved his foot hard into Laushin, keeping her hands in place, his weight all but crushing her crossed wrists at the center of her back as he jerked her head up in a painful arch by her ponytail. Xigoshura lay just in front of her vision, eyes closed as if sleeping and dark rivers of blood streaming down his handsome face.

They had wanted all her friends to watch them take her head, but the warrior could not be subdued. He had fought, trying to get to her, to the bitter end, when his helm was knocked off and the mace connected with his skull. Only the faintest movements of his chest gave her a small hope.

At least he was not dead.

“Laushin! Light forsaken sack of filth, get off me!” Zarack's cry raised once more as she felt the edge of the troll's dagger caress her windpipe.

She dared not breath, or the blade would pierce her flesh. Closing her eyes, she gave a silent prayer to Elune – for her love, for her sister, for her friends, for the Brigade, for the Alliance...

A shock of cold washed over her form and the troll snarled in some unknown language, jerking back from her so quickly her face planted itself in the ground. Ice trickled along her back, bringing a gasp to her lips as the sound of hooves, metal and claws sounded, quickly approaching. Her eyes fluttered back open in shock to find the troll's feet trapped firmly in ice.

A hand jerked her up, pulling her back away from the gathered, and now half frozen, horde.

“Get it together, Lau,” Xarkane hissed in her ear, shoving her bow back in her hands before vanishing beside her.

Brushing the dirt from her face, she paused, looking down at the blood that stained her fingers – she has been hit in the head harder than she thought... Was that why everything seemed so slow and muddled? Forcing her gaze back up, she found the source of the noise from moments before. Arrows pumbled from the sky. Elves, humans, gnomes and dwarves, all bearing the Brigade's tabard, met the horde that had captured them head on.

Hace moved along the edges, eyes flickering between Xigoshura and her. He raised his hand towards her, a light surrounding first him, and then flowing over her in a wave. She blinked several times.

The battle was in full swing. Her mind cleared with the healing. She gave the dwarven priest a quick nod and jerked her fingers up to her lips, letting out a sharp whistle and... Her eyes widened. Her bear, Cres, lay in a heap near where she had just lain. Hissing in fury, her bow snapped up into position, drawing the back to her cheek to let fly at an undead. Again, she drew, released. Again. Again.

Xigoshura flickered at the edge of her vision, charging an approaching orc. She pivoted and fired. Again, again, again, again...

“He is escaping!” the cry raised up, barely audible above the clamor of fighting. Her gaze jerked to where another of the elven warriors of the Brigade was turning to give chase.

The troll rogue... and under his arm, the plant.

She cursed, drawing her bow up and fired. It fell short as he moved with uncanny speed into the distance.

Primitiv sped after him, uncaring what lay ahead, or behind. They would never catch him. His mount was faster than Primitiv's... She cursed under her breath, turning to find another target – just in time to see the blade slide out of Hace's chest. The dwarf crumpled to the ground, one final, haggard breath rattling his form. Others lay on the ground as well, not moving, not breathing. Her breath caught in her throat... No officers of the Brigade present... They were being over run... They would not survive.

“Make us a portal; the plant is lost and we are beaten,” she finally called to one of the mages, Aiyla. The gnome jerked her head up to Laushin, frowning, but nodded.

For the second time that day, the Brigade turned in defeat back to Ironforge, members lost, and the objective failed. But this time... this time they were defeated. For the first time, ever.

[Shadowspeak]

((is that all? I certainly hope not, :cry: ))

[Laushin]

((Sorry I just now noticed your post, Shadow. You snuck it by me! >_< There are still two more chapters and an epiloge to write for this, but I've been over worked and over stressed as of late. I hope to get the next chapter knocked out within the next week or so, but since I'm not even sure if I'm going to get a single day off this weekend, I can't promise anything. :( ))

[Shadowspeak]

((/BUMP! It was such a good story, I just couldn't let it go forgotten!))

[Laushin]

((Never forgotten, just... delayed.))

Chapter 13: Ashes, ashes…

Three days had passed. Three days of waiting, three days of mourning, three days of grief. The Alliance was facing the greatest danger it had faced in years, and most knew nothing of it. The laughs and chatter in Stormwind seemed an irony to the situation only the Brigade knew of. The Brigade and one other… But, truth be told, only one member of the Brigade and that one other person knew the full truth of it all.

He moved with poised grace through the trade district of the grand city, down through the canals, into the Cathedral District, and finally down the long stairs into the forgotten crypts. The Other would be waiting there for him, for the report of how things were progressing. His stomach knotted.

Hesitating at the top of the final flight of stairs, he fingered his dagger. There were times to think of one’s self only and times when others came before—The thought was cut off by the Other’s voice.

“Please, Grais, no need to delay the report. I’m sure you have many irrevocably important matters to attend to.”

The rogue let his hand slide back off the dagger as he moved down the steps and bowed before the figure that awaited him. The salt and pepper hair belied the other human rogue’s true age. It gave him a look of authority – or perhaps only enhanced the authority the man exuded.

“Everything is going according to plan,” he answered, barely holding back a grimace. “The plant was retrieved by your Horde contacts and is safely within their city’s walls. I have laid the false information to keep the Brigade’s more crafty figures from discovering it’s true whereabouts.”

“Very good, very good,” the Other nodded, pulling out a pad of paper to make a few marks. Perhaps checking something off? “Here, come. Sit and have a drink with me. I know this is far from the most suitable locations, but we cannot yet be known, as I am sure you are well aware of.”

Grais nodded mutely, seating himself on the dusty floor where the Other had motioned. His stomach was twisting further. The Other pulled out a rather fine looking selection of bread, cheese and a bottle of, obviously, well aged wine.

“A bit of celebration is in order,” the Other smiled – that smile always seemed near sardonic to him – as he poured the wine and offered the food, “Despite the plan not yet being complete, that it has gone this far without a single hitched is truly remarkable.”

Perhaps it was that he was so preoccupied that Grais accepted the food and drink without a thought, without a single measure to inspect it. Oh, and how it did taste as fine as it looked.

“You seem on edge, Grais,” the Other was stating, taking a seat and swirling his own glass of wine to inspect it’s bouquet and color. “Please, I implore you, tell me what is troubling you so.”

The rogue hesitated, using the mouth full of bread and sharp cheese to give him a moment to compose his thoughts. The Other did not wait.

“You regret your actions… You are pained by the loss of your guild mates, despite knowing that this is for our greater good. You do not wish to go through with the rest of the plan, and see the mighty Khaz Modan Brigade all in their graves?”

He nearly choked on the bread. How did he know? He had said nothing! Given no true clue! “Never, I would never go against the wishes of our master.”

“Tut, tut… It is as plain as day upon your continence, my dear… old… friend,” the smirk seemed to belittle the sarcastic tone ever further. “Yes, I know, how insightful of me to see this coming. I must admit, I was surprised you went as far as you did with it. But! Not to fear, Grais, you will not have to suffer the fate of you precious Brigade. Oh no, never that… Never that.”

Grais turned his gaze down to the foods he had consumed and his yet untouched wine. “What have you done to me, then?” he whispered. What could be done could always be undone. He could still warn the Brigade, save them from certain death, and come out of it all alive. That’s how things always worked in their ranks. It would end wel—

“I do hope you enjoyed the bread, especially. I, of course, would not partake of plague-ridden bread, but it was your choice all along.”

The smirk… he would rip that smirk off the Other’s face and shove it back down his egotistical throat. “This will not go through!” he bellowed, moving in a flash. It could all still be undone. All of it. His hand held the dagger in a flurry of motion and leapt towards the Other’s throat.

But the Other was just as quick, if not to a dagger. A vial emerged in his hand as if from nowhere, the cork popping off in a smooth motion and the contents scattering across his face before his blade could make contact.

Burning, hellish agony seared through his limbs, starting at the contact of the liquid and dulling everything else. His screeches of agony ricocheted off the walls of the catacombs as he fell to his knees, writhing in agony.

“The plan will go through, Grais. The plan will go through…” the Other sighed regretfully. “You had such potential… Will you still feel the burning when you awake as one of the Forsaken, I wonder?”

The throws of pain began to blur as the acid melted away his face and neck, drawing him to the brink of death. His breath rattled in his tattered throat as he attempted to choke out one final sentiment. “A… curse on… you… Conidivh…”

Conidivh smiled down at him and chuckled lightly, shaking his head. “We are passed that, are we not? Be well, Grais. Be well.”

Blackness took the pain, blissfully, away.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Lohoi stood before his assembled guild – truly, the army of the Khaz Modan Brigade. His face was grim with the losses of the week, grim with the knowledge of the coming battle. An informant from SI:7 had come to him the night before. Grais had betrayed the Brigade and the Alliance. His most trusted man had assisted the horde in the retrieval of their damnable plant. It was this distinguished informant that has brought him the plans of the Royal Apothecary Society. They would be moving all of the ingredients for their horrific poison through Hillsbrad with a small army for further experimentations and to prepare the first assault. Their test target would be the site of too many battles to count.

The residents of South Shore watched in silent awe as the Brigade lined up before their leader. Row upon row of seasoned veterans. Row upon row of the finest the Alliance had to offer. Their armor gleamed as the last rays of the evening sun faded on the horizon. The dwarven paladin pulled his stead around in a well practiced, fluid motion and raised his sword high into the air.

A contingent of the Brigade split off, pelting their mounts to speed as they circled around north, towards the back of Tarren Mill. The main force began the steady march. The beat of the hooves, claws and mechanical feet shook the ground. At the tower just south of the Forsaken’s city, they came to a halt, dismounting and preparing.

The paladins and priests placed their Blessings and Prayers upon their fellows. The druids graced each member with the Mark and Thorns. The warlocks called forth their most vicious demons. The warriors readied their blades and shields. The rogues slipped easily into the night’s shadows, waiting in points of ambush. The mages and hunters took up their positions at the front, arrows knocked and spells ready for the first sign of the horde advance.

Everything was prepared. Each member knew their course through and through. Victory would be theirs.

((edited by author who was very tired last night and missed a mistake))

[Kurohane]

(( Well... I suddenly had, for whatever reason, inspiration to continue this story. It's not going to be ending as quickly as I had originally planned, though. With that inspiration came new ideas as well. Beyond that, the following scene would have been drawn up too short if I was to fit it into a single chapter. So, here we go again - Chapter 14 now, and I'm starting work on 15 as we speak, er, type, er... read. ))

Chapter 14: We All Fall Down

Laushin shifted slightly as she crouched atop the dilapidated tower between South Shore and Tarren Mill, peeking her head out from behind the stone wall just enough to catch a glimpse of what she heard and felt coming. The very tower itself shook with the hooves of the advancing army – all forsaken from what she could see. At their head was what appeared to have once been a man, his plate armor and bastard sword gleaming despite his state of decay. For just a second, she imagined that he had glanced up at her and smirked knowingly. Quickly, she darted her head back around the wall, swallowing hard.

A hand came to rest lightly on her shoulder in a reassuring manner. She gave Regharis a tiny, nervous smile in return as he blessed her in a barely audible whisper. A bellow issued forth from the undead ranks and they came to an abrupt halt, evident by the sudden chilling silence, the lack of the tower shaking. Another bellow and the well-trained dead troops audibly unsheathed their weapons. Lohoi's barked order answered and she heard weapons being drawn at the base of the tower as well, bow strings being pulled taught, guns cocked, the sizzle of spells starting to be cast.

That was when the wind started. She didn't notice it at first, seemingly just a gently breeze. It picked up subtly... and as it did, the realization dawned on her. It was blowing the wrong way. This close to South Shore, the breeze always came off of the sea, and yet this was blowing directly from Tarren Mill. Her eyes widened slightly and she jerked her head towards the others around her. Only Mellixia had realized it as well, the druidess catching her gaze, her brow drawn together.

The icy cold hit next and, in spite of herself, the huntress dared a glance around the edge of her cover, down at her allies below. What was merely an annoyingly strong breeze atop the tower was all but knocking over her allies on the ground. Her heart leapt into her throat. Moonwind gathered her feet under her, taking the partial cover the tower provided and leveled her bow at the rotting mages across the field. Laushin's eyes followed her aim. She heard the snap of the bow release. No arrow came. Swallowing hard, she glanced back down to see the arrow her sister had loosed laying on the ground only a few yards away, unable to break through the oncoming wind the mages had generated.

It all had come and passed in the blink of an eye. Mellixia had stood up while she was taking in the scene. The druidess raised her hands and light blazed down from the sky, shimmering around one of the mages, but whatever they were doing had only needed that moment - the mages had stopped their casting and others where drawing back from in front of them, each clutching an empty bag. Her brow furrowed.

“No...” Regharis said, his voice hardly more than a whisper at her side. The two night elf women followed his gaze down to where over half the army that had come to stand against the undead now lay crumpled on the ground.

Her heart jumped into her throat. The lay as motionless as Veretta had the previous week. The wind, the empty bags... Her heart slid down from her throat into the pit of her stomach. Lohoi was among those who had fallen, along with all the other officers she could see save the priest on the ledge beside her.

It didn't matter if she was overstepping her bounds, anyway – not now. Her voice rang far clearer than she would have guessed it was capable of as she shouted down at her sister. “Moonwind! Get those still standing away from them! They've used the poison to turn them!”

The elder huntress paled as she glanced up at her younger sister before nodding her understanding and shouting the order over again to those who could still hear her even as the undead army began it's approach once more. As the huntress atop the tower looked back at the oncoming line, this time she was sure of what she saw on their general's face. He was grinning at her.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Runewaybur slipped silently alongside his fellows through the seemingly sleeping town of Tarren Mill. Ahead of him, he could just barely make out the vast majority of rogues that had been placed under his command slipping ahead through the shadows, unseen by the guards, towards the back of the undead army's line.

“I don' like i', mon.” A voice emerged from the window he was presently creeping under. The gnomish rogue drew up short, straining his ears.

“Oh, now now,” a cultured, clearly human, voice said in reply. “You procured the plant we hired you to retrieve, and despite not killing the girl for her troubles, you have been handsomely rewarded. What is there for you not to like? You aided your honorable allies within the Horde and received a boon atop it.”

“Dis dust, mon, Aye seen what i' do. How i' turn de livin' t' de walkin' dead.”

The cultured voice chuckled at the troll's observations. “Oh no, no, my dear subhuman,” he said, a warmth akin to acid dripping from his voice. “It produces far more lovely results than just that. You see, when visited upon a sentient creature, such as one of those precious hunter's pets or a person themself, it turns them into a walking murder-machine. They feel no pain. They don't grow tired. The just keep killing until there is nothing left to kill and the powder finally kills them.”

A long pause lapsed between the two. Runewaybur could nearly feel the intensity of their gazes meeting. Finally, the troll spoke again. “I' 'ill wipe out de Horde too.” He nearly choked on the words.

The smile was evident in the other man's voice as it drew forth in sardonic politeness. “Perhaps. Care to test it on yourself? No? How about just the raw plant alone?”

A strangled sound as a blade was drawn, choking, sputtering and then a body hit the floor. Hard.

The cultured voice sighed and there was a slight swirl of cloth as his footsteps led him towards the door. “Such a pity. You trolls usually put up a better resistance than that... I suppose the poison I've slowly been feeding you over the past few days does help the plant take root, though. Oh, no, don't get up for me. I'll let myself out.” A thunk as something metallic, perhaps a dagger, was slammed into the wood of the floor. Runewaybur narrowed his eyes from the shadows where he listened. “You should count yourself lucky, my fine subhuman. That plant cannot die by normal dehydration, but it cannot grow without blood, even decaying blood. You'll make a fine receptacle for it and your corpse will be the fertilizer of the start of a very, very interesting time.”

The man stepped out onto the road, took a deep breath and sighed it out happily. Runewaybur moved slowly behind his shadow, drawing the blade up in preparation – and then the man was gone in a whiff of purple, magical smoke. Cursing silently, the rogue turned back to the house and crept inside. The troll lay sprawled on the floor, eyes staring blankly up at the ceiling, glassed over in death, horror frozen on his features. Runewaybur gritted his teeth. He had wanted to kill the damnedable troll himself for what the fiend had done to Laushin. Now, however, the deed was done by another and the plant was left, pulsing as it's roots sunk into the cadaver's open chest cavity.

Rune hesitated, listening as the sounds of battle rang in the near distance. Magics, bellows, screams... He gritted his teeth. He couldn't go to help them, not with what he had before him now. Stepping out of the shadows, he ripped the plant from it's new home, stuffed it into one of his bags, and with a wad of spit hurled onto the troll's dead face, slipped back into the shadows and out of Tarren Mill, back towards South Shore.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Regharis cast forth his healing prayer yet again, dismay starting to settle over his face as the man he had just healed fell under the blade of a gnome... One who wore the Brigade's tabard, one how had been affected irrevocably by the poisoned wind. An arrow flew over his shoulder, dropping the gnome. He choked back a cry.

You can't save them all. A voice whispered in the back of his mind. He squeezed his eyes shut against it before forcing them open to stare down at the carnage below yet again. Just worry about the ones that are still themselves... But how do I even know for certain?

The field around the tower was utter chaos. Friend fought friend, brother fought sister... and all throughout undead laughed as they lay into the fray, not caring who they killed – poisoned, sane, it mattered not.

And no sooner did one of the poisoned members drop, then they rose once again, turning to aid the undead they were now a part of.

Her heard Laushin curse behind him and two pairs of blades being drawn. He glanced over his shoulder as the sister hunters, Laushin and Moonwind, ready themselves for the stampede that was coming up the stairs. A roar reverberated beside him as Mellixia shifted into her bear form. Across the tower, Joyanna began casting a spell.

The priest leaned against the wall, panting from the exertion of trying to heal nearly every living person in the battle below. He had to regain himself, and quickly, or the women who were holding the tower with him would be lost. He gritted his teeth and pressed against the wall to stumble forward...

And dropped to one knee as the arrow sailed over the wall of the tower, landing squarely in his shoulder. His staff dropped to the ground, unnoticed as the wave of undead crested the stairs and the four women began taking them down in agonizingly slow motion. There were too many.. their ranks only made stronger by those that they had slain on the field below.

Regharis bowed his head. “May The Light hear me,” he whispered as he drew a thin, curving dagger from the inside of his robes, “and give me strength. May It steady my hand and guide my blade.” He winced in the middle of his prayer as he heard Laushin's cry of pain. He swallowed, forcing his voice out louder. “Hear your son's prayer, Light, and take him into Your arms. Give him Your holy strength to do Your will!”

His eyes raised for but a moment to meet with Laushin's as she attempted to scramble to her feet, her arm hanging at a grotesque angle at her side. He gave her his most loving smile as he raised the dagger and plunged it into his own heart.

[Rhowen-Prea]

((About time.))

[Keraph]

((Delicious. Absolutely delicious.))

[Sinthe]

(( <3 Teh Kuro! It's awesome you're finishing! ))

[Kurohane]

(( Posting this next chapter in parts 'cause I was terrible and working on it at work, between customers. As the day is nearly over, figure I should post what I have before leaving for the weekend. ^_~ More to come either later tonight or tomorrow.

PS - Rho, bite me. Harder. You know how I like it. ))

Chapter 15: Hammer on A Broken Anvil

The hills between South Shore and Tarren Mill were relatively quiet. The creek babbled pleasantly under a clear blue sky, the sun giving what little warmth it could to the wildlife in the grips of thawing winter. The birds had only recently started nesting in the trees, many still having yet to migrate back to these hills. Hillsbrad didn’t normally see much snow – that was relegated to the mountains farther north – but the air still held a cold snap to it that carried sound with alarming clarity.

Xigoshura soothed his massive riding tiger with one hand as he adjusted a strap on his armor. All around him, the troops he and Marus had been placed in charge of moved as silently as possible in the chilled air, waiting for the single for their hammer to fall on the undead army, crushing them against the anvil that contained the larger portion of the Khaz Modan Brigade.

To his left, Lamagra was conversing in an inaudible whisper with the imp that jumped about at his side from atop his felstead. To his right, the warlock’s brother and Xigoshura’s longtime friend, Marus, was mirroring Xigoshura’s movements – checking over his armor while ensuring that the man’s own horse kept silent.

“What’s taking them so long,” Marus finally growled, looking up to the sky where the signal should have come.

“Things never go as planned in battles,” Xigo murmured in return, though his eyes moved to the sky as well. “Have patience.”

“Patience be damned,” the other warrior said between gritted teeth, but the level look that Xigoshura lowered on him held his tongue.

“I hear something…” Lamagra said more to himself than those to his side, his gaze peering through the mountain, brows furrowed. “Fighting. They are already fighting.”

Long moments continued to stretch as the sounds of combat grew louder and still no signal came to start their charge. Xigoshura narrowed his eyes slightly, their glow abating to but a sliver in the cool shade of the trees.

“It should have come by now.” Marus’s voice broke the silence. Lamagra nodded silently, a frown etched across his face as he glanced between his brother and the towering night elf.

“Advance at a trot,” Xigoshura finally said, his tone deadly quiet. “We’ll assess what exactly is going on before charging in.”

[Kurohane]

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Laushin stood frozen for a split second as she watched Regharis' body crumple to the tower's floor, the loving smile still painted across his face. Her heart squeezed at the sight, not understanding his actions, but she was left no time to ponder.

“DOWN!” Joyanna's voice echoed with unnatural volume from across the tower top.

Before she could so much as look back, Moonwind snatched her from behind, driving her to ground beneath the elder huntress. A wave of heat grazed the air above them and the screeches of the undead behind them rang above the sounds of immolation, the instant stench of burnt decay filling the air. In a flurry of movement, Moonwind was on her feet again, Laushin taking her footing a trifle slower due to her injured arm. The sisters turned back to the now blazing undead as the horrific creatures continued their advance, drawing up what weapons their injuries would allow them.

They both knew what was to be the outcome. Behind the currently burning walked yet more corpses, yet untouched. A deep calm descended over Laushin, something that had been out of her reach for the duration of the battle.

She closed her eyes as she summoned her strength, the pain in her destroyed arm becoming a distant annoyance. Her good arm raised the Phantom Blade steadily before her. If she was to die here, she would take as many as she could with her – she would not allow them to reach South Shore. Her eyes opened within the span of a single heartbeat. Across the way, the human mage, her long time friend, Joyanna met her gaze. The same thoughts here present in the woman's burning eyes. Beside her, her sister readjusted her grip on her own twin axes, the same calm evident on her smooth features. To her other side, she felt the brush of Mellixia's tail across the back of her leg as the druidess, now in the form of a great black cat, sprung forward to lay claw and tooth into the oncoming masses.

And behind her, a light began to glow. It didn't register in her mind as she flew forward with her sister and their friend, nor as the shards of ice began to fall around them, impaling and slowing their assailants. She hardly noticed as the wave of healing light passed over the four women, her arm instantly returning to it's previous whole state. Her fingers, now responding to commands again, snatched the blade of the falling undead before her and she began to spin in a sickening dance of metal and blood, mirrored in exquisite, twisted beauty by her sister.

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The Hammer stood frozen just around the curve of the hill, the ongoing battle laid out before them. A sickness gripped each stomach present as they watched their own comrades lay into one another, half the dead raising again to aid the undead that swept through the throng in sick, bloody glee.

“Wh-” Adaria paused mid-word to flinch as she watched Lohoi drive his hammer through the skull of a tiny gnome mage. She swallowed hard before pushing the words forward again. “What are our orders?”

Xigoshura and Marus exchanged a long glance, the human's warrior for once a mirror of the night elf's – a stone, cold mask.

“Odd groups with me, evens with Xigo,” the famously emotional warrior finally answered in nigh deadpan.

“Try not to slay those in our tabards unless they attack first... or are obviously aiding the Forsaken,” Xigoshura added softly. “Use your discretion.”

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Guttya sidestepped the incoming blow from Taegar, the might warrior's blade grazing his arm. He swallowed back a string of curses as he threw down a handful of flash powder and vanished into the fray around him. As Taegar turned mindlessly towards his next victim, Guttya gasped inadvertently at the open wound gaping down the warrior's back, exposing his ribs and spine, a couple of his organs attempting to creep out of the hole in the plate armor. Squeezing his eyes shut for a second to drive the image from his mind, the elven rogue turned to find his next victim.

A few yards away, a female forsaken walked through the fray with what might have been called elegance if not for her decrepit form. The voidwalker at her side slapped away the various attempts to harm her as she calmly waved her hand nonchalantly at the various members of the living she passed, seeming not to care as they crumpled under the agony of her curses.

But she was not what held his eyes now. Light was descending from the top of the tower, floating slowly to the ground. As it touched the top of one of the tower walls, it began to take form. At first, it appeared to be a spirit healer, and his heart sank – one of their priests had fallen. However, the image began to transform further, taking on human male aspects. As he watched in a mixture of awe and horror, the face became clear... Regharis. Wings extended, it began slowly floating through the mass of clashing bodies, closing wounds and mending bones as it's light passed over those still sane and living.

To his right, the forsaken warlock stopped dead in her tracks and slowly turned to glare at the new force that was taking over her playground. The glare quickly faded, though, into a gruesomely benevolent smile.

[Kurohane]

Chapter 16: The End of All Things

Xigoshura's battle cry shook the walls of the tower around him. The so-called Hammer had shattered upon impacting the now broken Anvil of the Brigade's main forces. Despite their years of training, decades of experience, the tight formations had been splintered and he had found himself alone – only to catch a glimpse of a midnight blue ponytail spinning in a death-dance atop the tower.

His flaming polearm slashed through the walking cadaver before him as his eyes blazed with seething rage, his calm mask shattered in the events unfolding around him. Like a fiery whirlwind of death, he moved slow up the stairs, unaware of the damage he was taking himself from the monstrosities' attacks. As the last in an uncounted string of undead fell to his blade, he drew up short, Moonwind mimicking his actions as she jerked her blade back from impacting his shoulder.

“They used the--”

“I know,” his growl cut her off.

“Mel is... She fell. From the top of the tower,” Laushin added quietly behind her, sheathing her blades in favor of drawing her bow. “Joyanna didn't make it either.”

The warrior clenched his jaw and gave one sharp nod before spinning on his heel to trod back down the stairs. “There are still some of us standing. We will-”

Moonwind's hand on his shoulder stopped both his footfalls and his words. “We will sound the retreat,” she said quietly. “I'll find a living mage and see them safe to South Shore to evacuate the town.”

He lowered his head for a moment before looking back over his shoulder, past the elder huntress, to Laushin. Finally he nodded. “I will cover the retreat here.”

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Guttya stood frozen in awe as the Light-imbued spirit of Regharis passed serenely through the battle. Adaria took a knife to the ribs as she fired her bow, only to have the wound instantly closed. Zarack deflected an undead's incoming blade as he stabbed at a fallen comrade's back only to have an arrow slice through his arm, but before even a drop of blood could fall, the wound filled with Light and was sealed.

The remaining forces were easily out numbered four to one, but as the priest's spirit stood in the center of the battlefield, his mere presence healing the wounds of his friends, hope rose in Guttya's heart. They could still win this. Whatever Regharis had done, his spirit was not passing on as it should have.

The sickly purple lightening that shot out from a few feet to his right to encircle the healing spirit brought the rogue back to his senses like a slap in the face. He snarled silently as he raised his blades and turned to face the female forsaken warlock. A smirk was evident on her decayed face and the spirit arched in agony. He sprinted forward, raising his blade to drive it cleanly into her neck – it ricocheted off the sudden shield that surrounded her, her voidwalker's eyes just barely visible in the crackling forcefield.

Her hand jerked as if pulling a rope taught towards her and the light vanished, both from her hands and from the center of the field. Cackling, she turned to face her night elf assailant as he darted to the side in a vain attempt to avoid her oncoming attack.

The world went black as chaos filled his mind, sending him running helplessly in terror into the waiting blade of the General. As the life left his body, he was distantly aware of the horn signaling retreat.

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“Give her time to open the portal!” Marus' voice bellowed over the chaos of battle.

“They're forming a fire line of mages!” Laushin called in answer, leveling her bow at the one directly out from her, odd spikes jutting from his head in place of hair. “Hurry, Manaburn!” Her arrow flew true only to have the blasted Forsaken lean slightly to the side so that the arrow flew past his ear. He grinned in return at her.

“I'm trying!” The gnome squeaked behind them. “Just a moment more! I'm not good at this yet!”

“Go through first, Lamagra,” Xigoshura said, his voice crackling with raw rage. “If something should happen to the portal, summon as many back as you can.”

“They're starting to cast!” Zarack yelled as his drew his blade back from Lohoi's nearly decapitated head. “Move back! Get ready to leap through the port—” His words fell short as Nighthawk's arrow flew true to his heart from across the field. He collapsed to the ground with a sickening thud.

“It's open! Move!” The gnome's voice barely carried over the clash of blades as the last dozen and a half of the Brigade closed in around her.

Lamagra vanished instantly into the swirling magic, the safety of Ironforge visible on the other side. Laushin glanced back just in time to see his departure, but a hand seized her arm and she spun, ready to remove it from it's arm with her vicious blade. Her blade, however, tumbled to the ground as Xigoshura's lips pressed against hers.

“Go. Live,” he whispered harshly before shoving her back through the portal, pain filling his eyes in such blatant emotion as she had never seen on his face before.

The last view she had of the battlefield was the rain of fireballs arching overhead, inches from crashing down as the world suddenly spun and she landed in Ironforge.

[Kurohane]

Chapter 17: News From Abroad

Lamagra and I attempted in vain to summon those back who had made the last stand with us. Hours passed as we tried over and over eventually even trying to summon those whom we were not sure still lived. No one ever answered the summons. It was finally Runewaybur that pulled us from our grim task and revealed, in secret to us alone, the one tiny victory we would have that day – the retched plant that had started this whole mess.

The next day, word came from Stormwind that the civilians of South Shore had been successfully evacuated, but neither my sister nor whichever mage she had found had been with them. Most were not willing to speak of what happened, but one person grudgingly relayed that the two had stayed behind with the guards of the town in a final attempt to save the town and ensure that everyone else was evacuated.

When the forces from Ironforge and Stormwind finally made it to Hillsbrad two days after the battle, over half of South Shore lay in ashes and approximately half of the Brigade lay in the open fields, their corpses rotting in the coming spring sun. A great tribute was held in South Shore to our efforts. It took weeks to bury all of the bodies.

We first attempted to the plant destroy by fire, but when the coals cooled and we shifted through the ashes, we found a sprout of the plant already growing back in the soil made fertile from the ashes. With Lamagra's aid, we tried everything we could possibly think of to destroy the blasted thing, but whatever was done to it, it quickly came back.

In the months that followed, I became the guardian of that poisonous plant, and likewise, Runewaybur became my guardian. Lamagra set off into seclusion, attempting to find a way to permanently destroy it while Rune and I went to Moonglade where I began studying as a druid. Through my training, I have built up an immunity to the plant's poison, but like Lamagra, have yet been able to find a way to permanently destroy it.

Only select organizations are even aware that we, the last three living members of the Khaz Modan Brigade, still live, in secrecy and duty. When finally our objective is complete, I cannot say what each of the three of us will do, nor even what I will do at that time. I still hold some small hope that members of the Brigade who's corpses were not found – especially Xigoshura – will turn up alive somewhere. I will search, I will guard, and I will eternally live by my duties, holding hope for tomorrow and the eventual victory of the Alliance.

Laushin Rholwic
Former Veteran of the Khaz Modan Brigade

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The General slow traced his bony finger over the signature on the documents, following the swirl and curve of the former huntress's name. A smirk pulled at the corners of his mouth, the long dead skin splitting at the stretching, revealing yellow teeth below. How fortuitous that this document would be uncovered, confiscated and placed in his decayed hands.

A knock resounded through his chambers and the General slapped the leather folder closed over the documents and glared up at his door. “Come.”

Reffus stepped in, as silent as ever and bowed deeply. “The information has been circulated per your request, Warlord.” His tone was grave. He knew the import of this mission all too well. “Furthermore, it has been confirmed that the goblins have sufficiently mentioned it in the presence of the night elf druid. She sought further information on the matter, as you suspected she would, and was last seen making her way towards the Plaguelands.”

The Warlord grinned in response, the dry skin of his lips splitting wider at the expression. “Excellent. Send word to the Baroness and the Arch Mage. We will depart in two hours.”

“Yes, sir,” he answered with another bow. He turned, hesitating by the door. “Will I be accompanying you three? It is likely the gnome will be with her.”

“Yes, and gather as many as you can find around the city as well. I'll not be taking any chances with this one.”

“Yes, Warlord Keraph,” he answered with another bow, a smile lighting his dead eyes in the joy of coming battle.

Keraph leaned back as the door shut behind the Forsaken rogue. Today was a fine day for settled scores and final victories. He drew his sword in front of his face, the disgusting grin greeting him in the blade's reflective surface. A fine day, indeed.

[Kurohane]

Chapter 18: Flowers on a Grave

The rolling hills of Hillsbrad were just beginning to blossom with the approach of full spring. The waves of wildflowers were opening in small patches, painting the lands with an almost surreal beauty. The field surrounding the tower between South Shore and Tarren Mill, however, was as trampled down and bloody as it had been three years prior. The scars of the devastating battle that had ravaged that field three years before had never healed, only been built upon by continued warfare. Yet still, as if in memory of what had happened, here and there fresh shoots sprang up, vibrant red flowers dotting the field of mud and grass.

It was the first time the three of them had laid eyes upon it since the burials of the Brigade. Laushin pulled the cloak tighter around her, eyes tearing up against her will as they looked down from the overlooking hilltop.

“Buck up, girl,” Runewaybur said gruffly beside her, slapping her lightly on her knee. “I still say this whole thing's off. If Xigo is still alive, what makes ya think he's gonna be so easy to find?”

Lamagra snorted slightly behind them. “He won't be, but that is clearly not the point. We were never able to track down the source of this rumor. It is possible it is true, but it is equally possible that this is a trap. You know all too well, Laushin, that your records of those days vanished from SI:7 headquarters a few weeks back.”

“Then I will go alone.” Her voice was soft, none of the edge it had once held remaining.

Runewaybur sighed, gazing up at the girl he held to him like a little sister. She was paler than she had once been, her formerly vibrant eyes only glowed dimly these days, and the strength of her voice seemed to be, at best, a memory of what it once was. “The three of us...” Runewaybur paused, sighing and shaking his head. “The three of us are all that's left now, girl. If yer hellbent on going, yer not goin' alone.” He paused again, gazing down at the field, at the results of the battle he had never seen. “But yer also still week from that... that surgery 'Magra put ya under. We should rest for the night.”

She smiled faintly, letting her hand rest atop his head a moment. “No,” she finally said. “I'm alright. Let's go on.”

The two men, gnome and human, exchanged a glance behind the night elf's back, a mixture of exasperation and amusement shining in their eyes. Turning from the battlefield, they followed her towards the pass into the Plaguelands. For hours they traveled, the verdant lands of hills giving way to the decaying flatlands past the mountains.

“Lamagra?” The two men stopped and looked back to where Laushin had fell a few steps behind, her gaze now wandering over the lands of death as she spoke. “Are you sure the surgery and the binding worked?”

The warlock sighed, following her gaze for a moment before answer. “As sure as I can be, my dear. In all of my studies, all of my experience, I have never come across a case such as what we performed. Tying the very life essence of a plant to that of a living being isn't exactly... common practice, I fear.”

She hesitated before nodding and looking back at them. “And the only way we will ever know if it was successful is if I die.”

Runewaybur grimaced, glowering at the ground before him. “Yeah, and then the plant should die too. Something I don't mean to ever let happen, just to make sure yer still 'round, girl.”

She smiled fondly at the two before the expression faded and she nodded.

“Why do you ask? Is it paining you?” Lamagra asked, concern knitting his brow.

“No...” Her gazed moved back to the decaying lands. “But this place puts me in a mind of deaths. The very soul of these lands screams in torment and the plant...” She placed her hand over her chest, where the vile plant had been sewn beneath her skin in the ritual to bind it to her. “The plant seems to rejoice in it.”

Lamagra sighed and shook his head. “I sincerely apologize that you must suffer any of this, my dear. If I could...”

“I know.” Her faint smile turned to them again. “But this is my duty. I am the only one who can bear this burden – I have no regrets in it.”

Sighing, the warlock nodded before glancing over his shoulder. “We are near the place Xigo was allegedly spotted. I'll ride ahead and see what can be seen.”

With his companions' nods of consent, he summoned forth his felstead and whipped it to a canter.

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The rumors had hit their target as the Warlord had expected, but they had hit another target as well, one he was not even aware of. The name of Xigoshura Autumndawn, Warrior of Elune, never reached the wind since the battle that had ripped the Khaz Modan Brigade apart and so when this time it came to the ears of the unexpected target, it was reason to take serious note.

He fingered the hilt of his blade from his hiding place overlooking the graveyard that the Warrior of Elune had allegedly been routinely clearing of undead. He knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that this had to be a trap, but for who, he still did not know. After all, Xigoshura, he knew, had in fact been clearing the undead trolls in the eastern sections of the Plaguelands rather than this graveyard in the western area.

As dusk faded into night, he waited patiently, eyes scanning the horizon, the banks of trees, the mountains he himself hid in. Finally, his patience was rewarded. He narrowed his eyes to make out the figure atop the felstead that rounded the bend, felhound at it's side. The hint of a smile passed over his lips as he took note of the proper posture, brown, well kept hair and dignified garments. Lamagra. At the same time, his heart fell slightly, something he had not believed in all this time was possible. A very distant part of him had hoped, against his better judgment, for the figure to be that of a Night Elf huntress.

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Keraph lowered the looking glass from his eye, glowering. “She is not with him.” His voice snapped like a twig in his annoyance and he jerked his hand towards one of the contingents that had followed him into the depths of the Scourge's lands. “You lot, go dispose of that useless waste of breath. The rest of you, with me. We circle around. She can't be too far off.”

[Kurohane]

Chapter 19: The Victorious Dead

She was nowhere near the master of the shadows that he was, Runewaybur noted as he stalked alongside his elven sister, her normal supple form now that of a mighty black cat. None the less, her druidic training had been to some use more than just making pretty flowers grow. From their position off the road, sulking through moon-shadows, the casual passerby would not notice her. He, of course, would be invisible to any eye.

The moon-shadows that hid their progress, though, was also adding an extra edge of danger to their passage, for while they could not be seen, neither could their surroundings. It was likely greatly in part to this that they were caught by surprise when the circle of undead stepped out of the shadows, surrounding them.

Laushin crouch down beside him, ready to pounce, her ears pressed back flat against her head as the apparent cadaver in charge smirked at her and barked an order. The walking corpses began advancing at a cruelly slow pace.

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“Take her alive,” Keraph smirked as he drew his own blade. “Cut her if she tries to escape, but keep her alive. The plant's so-called guardian will make a fine recepitical for the plant to grow and thrive in.”

“What a lovely idea,” Nadea said beside him, tenderly caressing the head of her felhound, her sweet tones underlaid with sarcasm. “I didn't know you had it in you to be so poetic.”

Ignoring her attempt to get under his skin, he motioned his hand for the advance as the druidess hunkered down, as if preparing to bolt or bracing for the coming attack. Just as the Forsaken came within arms reach of her, chaos exploded from the center in the form of a tiny gnome rogue. As if that were her queue, the druidess also sprung to life, casting off her cat form in favor of the body she was born in.

“Take him down!” Keraph snarled, leaping from the back of his horse to charge at the annoying little knee-biter. “Do not allow her to escape!” His blade sliced cleanly through the air the gnome had previously occupied and he snarled in annoyance, spinning to bring his blade down yet again on the darting, bobbing creature.

On the side of the fight, Arch Mage Skyze and Baroness Nadea watched with indifferently. The gnome was as good as his legend proclaimed, darting just under the Warlord's attacks, precisely removing heads and limbs with his cruel blades as he danced about the scene. Laushin was an unexpected element, though, gracefully raising her left hand to entangle one of the Forsaken in roots while she raised her right to encircle the gnome with a wave of natural healing energies and then turning seamlessly to call down moonfire on yet another victim.

The Warlord threw back his head letting out a bone-chilling roar of fury as his blade caught the edge of the gnome's side and the wave of healing light closed the fresh wound. Snarling, he drew his blade back and plunged it forward as Reffus stepped out of a shadow, the other Forsaken's blades catching the gnome in mid-step. The two blades emerged out of the gnome's stomach just as the Warlord's blade sewered through his chest. Blood spewed forth from the gnome's mouth and the two jerked their respective blades free, letting the small body crumple lifelessly to the ground.

An agonizing scream ripped from the druidess's throat as her comrade fell, but was drowned out by another roar – this one coming from behind them. Nadea and Skyze looked over their shoulders just as the night elf warrior and human warlock descended on them.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“NOOOOOOOOOOO!” Laushin jerked forward as Runewaybur crumpled to the ground, his organs oozing out of his body with his blood on the ground. A bony hand snagged her ponytail, halting her run to her friend, and threw her to the ground behind her captor. The world sprinkled with black dots before she succumbed to a moment of blissful unconsciousness from the impact.

When her senses returned to her, she was first aware of the partial body laying across her's. The sounds of continued fighting quickly came to her after that and she jerked her eyes open, struggling to relieve herself of her gruesome blanket and stand. Her breath caught in her throat, though, freezing her halfway up as her eyes fell on him.

With his ever deadly grace, Xigoshura, dispatched of the Forsaken before him and turned to the eight who remained, drawing up a defensive stance between the one she had recognized as the general and herself. Trying to blink away the confusion of returning consciousness, she glanced down at the still warm body that had draped over her and choked back a cry. Lamagra's face was still set in determination – or at least, this half of it was.

“Run,” her beloved warrior whispered to her in their native tounge. “Get to the safety of Chillwind, fly out of here. I will not loose you to these fiends.”

Her mind cleared with the sound of his voice and she closed her eyes, concentrating for a moment. “It is my time, Xigoshura,” she finally said softly. “With my life goes that of the plant... It is time this world be rid of this strife, and that I be at peace.” She opened her eyes and raised her gaze to meet his as he looked over his shoulder at her.

After a moment, he nodded in understanding. “Elune's arms wait to take us to peace,” he whispered, “but I will not go alone.” Along pause passed between them before he spoke again. “I love you.”

He lunged forward with another roar, into the heart of where the forsaken stood. His blade swirled over his head, coming down to cleave one of the cadavers in two. He spun again, cutting another in half diagonally. It was all the time he was afforded before ice encrusted his feet, stopping his advance. Shards of ice fell from the clear sky as purple lightening erupted from the Baroness's hand, causing him to learch.

Laushin snarled at the woman who would entrap her beloved's soul, her form taking on that of a bear in a puff of smoke. Roaring with her new form, she ran forward, knocking the forsaken warlock off her feet and canceling the spell. Seconds after the cursed purple lightening blinked out, she heard her warrior collapse to the ground behind her.

The druidess leaped back, letting the bear form slide off of her like water as she returned to herself. The General was glaring at her from above Xigoshura's corpse, his blood dripping with the night elf's blood. A soft smile spread unconsciously across her lips and she took a step towards him. His eyes narrowed but she gave none of them a chance to react as she lunged forward.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Keraph drew his blade from the Warrior of Elune and watched as the night elf crumpled to the ground, dead. He had recognized the look on the elf's face – it was one that was at peace with the death he knew was coming. As the grudging respect for the fallen warrior took hold in the Warlord, he looked up to find the druidess holding the same look in her gaze. She smiled at him and he narrowed his eyes, trying to determine what her move would be.

In a flurry of motion she was on him, her hands taking his as she drove his blade deep into her gut, forcing him to wrench it out her back. The respect he hated to admit he felt for these two night elves grew as she raised her gaze to meet his, blood spilling from her mouth.

“Good move,” he answered her as he jerked his blade free of her grasp and her body. He could just barely make out the gurgled words that came to her lips as she fell to her knees, words he had not heard in three years.

“For the Brigade...”

She collapsed to the bloodied ground and he slashed his blade through the air, splattering blood on the decaying landscape. “Search her for the plant.”

Reffus knelt beside her, turning her body over and began riffling through her bags and clothing. Nadea stepped forward as well, furrowing her brow as she looked down on the druid. The druid's eyes still watched them, the smile still lingering on her lips even as she winced in pain.

“How is she not dead yet,” the Baroness said more to herself than the others.

As if in reply, the druid's chest began to swell, just over her heart. Reffus furrowed his brow and ripped the leather armor back from the area. As he did, the coveted plant erupted from her flesh, showering them in crimson rain. The night elf arched back, gurgling as the plant stood up straight, as if reaching for the sky. The tiny smile on her lips turned into a one of true happiness as her eyes began to dim with the coming death and the plant began to wilt before their eyes.

“Pull it from her body!” Nadea suddenly spat, trying to claw past Reffus even as he attempted to follow her orders. Her fingers were the first to reach it and as she ripped it from around the night elf's heart, the last of the light left the druid's eyes...

And the plant began to turn to dust in her hands.

Throughout the Plaguelands, heads turned to follow the Warlord's scream of rage that shook the very land beneath them. In their deaths, the Khaz Modan Brigade had it's final victory.

[Kurohane]

(( Just an epilog left to go and this thing will be completed. Thank to everyone who's been keeping up with it - much <3 ))

[Keraph]

((Amazing work, dear. I really loved it))

[Kurohane]

Epilog

The dwindling light of the candles flickered around the dusty catacombs as Conidivh adjusted his gloves. “Report,” he said simply, no hints of emotion touching his voice.

The undead kneeled before him, glaring at the ground between his feet. It’s voice rasped and wheezed as it spoke, sounding like sandpaper forming words. “Infection took the bait. The last of the Brigade is dead, and the plant with them.”

“Good, good,” Conidivh smiled, brushing his silver hair back from his face before clasping his hands in front of him. “You’ve done well, Grais. Balance has been restored between the factions.” Grais continued to stare at the ground, jaw set so tightly pieces of dead skin were flaking off his face. Conidivh chuckled at him. “And what of our other pray? The other huntress and the rogue.”

“Xelthan has been confirmed dead. Kurohane was rescued from Outland by the priestess Lelenia and vanished upon reaching Darnassus.” The undead rogue finally looked up at the human warlock. “Two weeks ago, a gravestone was placed with her name on it in the graveyard in Darnassus.”

Conidivh sighed, giving Grais a sympathetic look. “One success, one major failure… You set our plans back yet again and so you force my hand.”

The rogue jerked back to his feet, stumbling back, glaring at the human. “Not this time, Conidivh. Not this time…”

Conidivh’s eyes narrowed as the undead vanished before him. “You’re only prolonging the inevitable, Grais… Do you think you can redeem yourself now?”

The knife in Conidivh’s back seemingly came from nowhere. “No,” Grais’s voice grated in his ears. “There is no redemption, only revenge.”

It was days later that the warlock’s corpse was found in the catacombs, his face eaten away by acid. As his body was carted out, the undead rogue watched silently, smiling for the first time in years. By the time they had buried the unnamed body, Grais’s report had made it to Keraph’s hands. A simple note written in Gutterspeak.

“The circle has been completed.”

[Redburn]

((/clap. I enjoyed it very much Kuro. Well Done!!))

[Kurohane]

(( Thanks, Burnie-poo. <3 I'm just glad to finally have completed it. >.< It did not defeat me!! ))