Skallagar

Jailed

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Yusegar ran a hand over his face, wiping off the combination of sweat and blood from his last tour in the Battlefields. Yet another hard-won victory. Now he would walk around Silvermoon, waiting for his next battle. Perhaps he would find Leoren or Nymare to talk to. They usually were around this time of night. He just had to look out for-

"YOU!"

A figure, slightly shorter and much more slender than Yusegar stepped out to block his path outside. Black and crimson armor encased his body, with the emblem of a blood red phoenix adorning his tabard. Eyes burning green with hate on a face painted in a mask of maniac pleasure glared up at him. Champion Vranesh must have been planning this a long time.

"You are under the arrest of the Blood Knights of-ungh!" Vranesh's speech was cut short as Yusegar put all his weight into stomping down on the Blood Knight's foot. Plate dented in and despite its superior quality, the bones in the Knight's feet broke under the pressure. Yusegar tried to run, but as he pushed past the Blood Knight he felt something hard strike the back of his head. The world went spinning. He fell over a railing, and saw red light all around him. He groaned as his back impacted with the ground. He opened his eyes, at the same time unsure of when he had closed them. Before him was a being of pure dark night. A strange, high pitched cry seemed to echo through the room. Four lines of crimson magic seemed to hold the being in place.

"So it is true..." Yusegar muttered. He had heard of the source of BLood Knight power, of course, though he had never really believed it. He had certainly never come down here in search of it. He had preferred to remain blissfully ignorant of the fact. Yusegar groaned as he got to his feet. He was about to run for the only way out of the room when Vranesh appeared there, bellowing orders. Growling, he prepared to charge the Champion when from some corner of the room, a line of red energy lanced towards him. Nausea assaulted him. He had felt effects of this sort of magic on the battlefield, but never anything this potent. He struggled forward, but the magic, designed to keep a Naaru subdued, was simply too powerful. Yusegar got a full three staggered steps before collapsing onto the cold ebony floor.

((To be continued....))

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(( If Beutha catches wind of this she is going to be wild! A wyvern crash causing him to miss dinner that first time was unavoidable and impossible to predict. This is something she can get her hands on, or someone I should say. :mad: ))

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((Wow, I haven't even talked about the showers yet xD. Just had to pencil in an RP reason for yuse to be gone for a little while. Got my exams coming soon, so its my turn to stress))

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"Hey, ugly, get up!"

Putrid smelling water splashed over Yusegar's face. Some drained into his nostrils, making him want to gag. Yusegar bolted upright to find himself locked in a cell. It looked to be about as big as his room in Sanctuary Hall, but it was also crowded with other people. Yusegar looked around to see who had spoken earlie, and found a Forsake holding an empty cup to be the culprit. He eyed sized up the Forsaken. Just under six feet in height, though the mohawk he sported added at least another foot. He was clad in black leathers. His face missed its upper lip, and he did not have the eerie glowing eyes many Forsaken had. Just two empty socket, eyes of impenetrable darkness. The Forsaken whistled softly between his broken teeth.

"Must have really done something to piss Vranesh off," he said, his face impassive.

Yusegar frowned at the words, but then looked down at his body and couldn't help but agree with the Forsaken. He had not been so lucky as the Forsaken to be allowed clothes. His muscular body was also a mess of bruises. An great, ugly burn also stood out in his midsection, a reminder of whatever magic had been used to subdue him.

"S'pose I should thank ya. Anyone pissed him off that much, he's probably gunna send ya out first. Puts me back in line a spot," the forsaken went on, the remains of the corners of is mouth pulling upward in a mockery of a smile.

"What do you mean?" Yusegar spoke, though every word hurt. Whatever spell had been used must have scrambled his insides good. Plus he was pretty sure he had a broken rib or two on top of it.

"This is where that fascist pig Vranesh keeps the people he wants to...go away for a while. Not sure what he does with them. They just aren't heard from once they leave this cell," The Forsaken laughed bitterly, "Man, it sucks to be you!"

Yusegar walked to the other corner of the room, leaving the cackling undead behind him. He sat down in another corner of the room. He looked to his left and found a Blood Elf woman eyeinh him hungirly. Her face was a mess of bruises.

"Hey, baby..." she purred. As if she hadn't gotten her point across, she ran her tongue over her lips.

"No." Yusegar said firmly, looking to the other side of him. A male Blood Elf sat there, with the same expression on his face. But it was not Yusegar's face the Elf was looking into.

"Hey...baby..." the Male elf purred. Yusegar growled and pushed the elf aside, retreating to another corner of the room. This time he was near a female Tauren. That was a relief. Tauren were usually...normal. Idly Yusegar wondered what the Tauren had done to get locked up. His thoughts were interrupted when the Tauren spoke

"Hi. My name is Bubba" the supposedly female thundered in a voice far deeper than Yusegar's own. Yusegar swore, getting to the last corner of the room. A male Elf sat there, staring blanky at the floor. Unfortunetly, the sound of Yusegar's approach seemed to rouse the Elf.

"Hey! Hey! Hi! How ya doing? Hey listen, ya got Bloodthistle? Ya heard of Bloodthistle? Come on Everybdy has Bloodthistle. Your not cool if you haven't. So can you hook me up? Huh? huh? Cummon! Gimme Bloodthistle! Gimme gimme gimme! BLOODTHISTLE!"

Yusegar was about to make a remark on how a naked Orc would have any bloodthistle on him when the Elf reached out towards him. Probably only to shake the Orc, to get more attention, but Yusegar had had enough. Without turning to face the Elf, Yusegar's elbow shot out, catching the the Elf in his midsection. The Elf screeched and doubled over in pain. Yusegar brought his fist down on the back of the Elf's skill, knocking him out cold.

The others turned to stare at Yusegar a moment before resuming their chatter. Yusegar ran his hands over his face, wincing as they touched bruises. Surely, this was not the end he was meant to meet. Surely, the Spirits could find a better death for him than this.

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((Seeing as this will be my only sorce of any kind of RP, I'll make this open. I have something in mind for the end, so if anyone wants to try to break me out they should PM me))

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Beutha examined herself in the mirror one last time. She wanted everything to be perfect, right down to the dress she wore. A number of different outfits were considered and rejected until she finally decided to go with a traditional Mag’har style homespun dress of golden brown, accented with embroidered bands of red ochre, yellow and dark brown. It was a nice balance of demure with a hint of sensuality in the open midriff that showed off her shapely waist and toned abdomen. She turned to her left and right, smoothing out imaginary wrinkles and satisfying herself that the dress cut a nice profile.

Reaching over to her small dressing table she picked up a small crystal vial and tipped it over for a second before righting it and removing the smooth stopper. She dabbed the stopper behind each ear, traced a line along the curve of her neck and down into the valley between her breasts. She replaced the stopper and turned to survey the loft.

The light of the late afternoon sun washed in from the open door to her small balcony overlooking the town. It added to the ambiance she tried to create using two large candles set in holders on the wooden table which she had covered with a clean linen cloth. In the center of the table rested a clay bowl filled with peacebloom, wild steelbloom and Barrens sage grass. Two place settings were ready side by site, carved ironwood eating utensils, two wooden goblets and two bowls resting on wooden platters. A large pitcher if ale finalized the table display.

In the corner the copper brazier was flashed up and glowing hot, ready to receive the links of spider sausage she had laid out on a small table next to the coals. A large serving bowl of turtle bisque steamed on the table ready to be spooned into the eating dishes. The large cooking pot was sent downstairs for the goblins to enjoy the remaining soup and to eliminate the eyesore.

Beutha took in a deep breath and exhaled to dispel her nerves. This was the first such date she had put together and she wanted it all to be perfect. A brief sense of anxiety washed over her as she considered that maybe Yusegar would find it too pretentious, especially the candles. She took a step towards them with the thought of extinguishing them, deciding in the end to keep them as the light outside would be failing soon.

Walking out to her balcony she took a seat to watch the steady stream of merchants, explorers and adventurers that made Ratchet a hub of travel between the continents. Sipping a mug of thistle tea she waited for Yusegar.

Five hours later.

The flickering candlelight cast dancing shadows on the dark walls of the loft, a pool of melted wax at the base of each holder. Outside the sound of the Barrens cicadas filled the night time air. On the table stood two lonely bowls of cold turtle bisque, the droplets of fat having congealed into small yellow islands in a sea of tepid broth. The brazier stood dark, the coals having burned down an hour and a half earlier. Beutha sat cross-legged on the edge of her sleeping mat, hearthstone placed beside her. She stared at it, raising a hand towards it only to stop herself from picking it up at the last second, something she had done several times over the past 4 hours. Slowly she retracted her hand and placed it gently into her lap to clasp the other.

The sound of footsteps in the stairwell caused her to sit up and look over to the stairs with an expectant smile on her face.

A pointy eared green goblin head popped up from the stairwell, a linen bandage covering one eye, face crosscrossed in scratches.

Beutha’s smile faded and her shoulders slumped once more.

“Say Toots! That was delicious! You really can cook it seems. In fact, my brother and I would even be willing to try some of that spider sausage if you cook it up for us. There is plenty I imagine, seeing as your date doesn’t look like he’s coming. So whata say. Let me get those coals lit and……” he had to duck to avoid the pillow that was launched at his head.

“Er. Maybe another time. Its getting late anyway.” He slowly sunk back down the stairwell. “Um, sorry Bea. Really. ” he said with an unlikely hint of tenderness before he vanished.

Beutha’s chest felt tight. With a sudden burst of movement she snatched up the hearthstone and brought it to crackling life.

“Yusegar!” she called into the stone and waited, only to be answered by silence.

“Yusegar the Wolf. Where are you?” she asked again. This time she strained to hear. Was there something? A muted voice? “YUSEGAR?” she said loudly. Nothing. She had imagined it.

With a sigh she turned off the stone and set it gently on her night table. Rising and walking to the table she licked her fingers and extinguished both candles, plunging her loft into darkness. Outside the glow of the town torches and starry night sky gradually chased away the deeper shadows.

Retrieving her pillow Beutha returned to her sleeping roll and lay down, curling her legs up, tucking the pillow under her head and pulling her sleeping skins over her tight, hiding her face.

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Yusegar banged his head against the bars of the cell. The chatter of his fellow cellmates went on around him. He was getting good at ignoring them. What he could not ignore was that it was Friday Evening, and She would be waiting for him. Again. And he would not come. Again. What had he been thinking, warming to her? He would just end up causing her trouble. He certainly did not deserve the second chance he had been given. Nor did he deserve a third, should he ever get out of here. Yusegar sighed, following the train of thought to the same conclusion he had reached the first five times he had thought it. He was a Grunt. A Fighter. An Orc of the front lines of the battlefield. How could he try to be with her when he risked his life every day on the battlefield? He knew he had a death wish, but he did not think Beutha did.

Suddenly, Yusegar could not move. In the corner of his eye he saw a priest and a guard at the now open cell door. All chatter ceased as if on cue.

"Come on, big guy. Off to solitary for you."

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Yusegar awoke in a new cell. It was much smaller than his previous one, and much darker. However, the fact that theere was any light suggested that this was not solitary. That, and the bald, heavily muscled and tattooed Orc doing dips off of one of the two benches that passed for beds.

"Who'd you kill?" the Orc said without looking at Yusegar.

"What?"

"You don't get put on this row unless you've killed somebody."

"Nobody, unless you mean Alliance."

"Well, you sure as hell must have pissed somebody off," the tattoes Orc said as he finished one round of dips.

"Champion Vranesh," Yusegar replied. This got the other Orc's interest.

"Oh? How?"

Yusegar told him.

The other orc threw back his head and let out a deep booming laugh.

"Good job, brother! I am Der'kar Vinyar," the other Orc said, holding out one hand.

"Yusegar, the Wolf" Yusegar replied, taking the other Orcs hand, shaking it. Der'kar started another set of dips. Yusegar looked at the many tattoo's on Der'kar. His left pectoral had a big symbol of the Horde. Both arms were so heavily done it was if they had sleeves on. They depicted battles, Orcish victories, and the like.

"What are you in for?" Yusegar asked, breaking the long silence.

Der'kar waited until he had finished his set before replying.

"I was riding around the forests outside Silvermoon. I'd lost some friends in the battle here, back in the war. I stopped to camp one night, and some piece of shit Elves I'd embrassed in the Fairbreeze Inn came out and tried to steal my mount. I chopped ones head off, then threw my axe at the one foolish enough to try to ride my Wolf. Then I stomped his face in like a ripe melon. I guess there was a third one that fled, because guards were everywhere."

Der'kar sighed. "Damned Elves. You can't trust a warrior who isn't Green, Yusegar. True warrior has to be an Orc, anyway."

Derkar proceeded to rant on the inferiority of Elves, continuing to Undead, even noting Tauren laborers were putting many peons out of work. Yusegar stopped listening after a while, distracted by an all-too familiar scent...

((to be continued))

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((Ha ha! How's it goin' Jailbird? *prances on the other side of the bars* Hee hee... Really. I like this thread. I only wish Slaid was able to bust him out... She probably would if she were in a good and/or adventurous mood. She doesn't like the Blood Knights too terribly much anyway.))

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Weeks passed. Yusegar soon came to meet many other Orcs in the prison, many like Der'kar. They all helped each other. Some might call it a 'gang', but Yusegar preferred to think of it as looking out for his people. Fights would break out, usually the his Orc brothers would be the ones finishing them, until the guards came. Usually took a while, though. The Guards seemed to enjoy watching the brawls. That was just as well. Yusegar was enjoying the fights himself.

All this time, however, Yusegar would sense a familiar scent that he could not quite place. After a while, he dismissed it as his mind playing trick on him. Until one day, Der'kar had managed to get some alcohol smuggled into his cell...

"Der'kar, I've had better stuff than this for free at Brewfest!" Yusegar said after draining the first cup.

"Shut it, you are getting this for free!" Derkar replied, wincing at the taste of his drink.

"Hah! You know damn well that troll would have gotten you at lunch today,".

Darkar nodded, conceding the point. "Yeah. Too bad the Guards didn't let you keep his tusks after you broke them off."

"They said I might use them to shank someone. As if I need a weapon in here!"

Der'kar raised a pierced eyebrow at this. " I don't know, Yusegar. I seem to remember a Tauren hurling you across the yard a few days ago..."

Yusegar groaned at the memory, his hand instinctively going to the shoulder that had been dislocated in the landing from said throw. "And I am the one who got sent to solitary for it!"

Der'kar laughed at this, and the two drank in silence for a while. Some sort of buzzing insect flew into the cell, and they both watched it. Then Yusegar farted loudly, scaring the little bug off. Der'kar punched Yusegar hard on the shoulder. Yusegar just laughed.

"What would you do if you got out?" Yusegar asked after another drink.

"Find the Elf that brought the guards to me and hang him by his entrails. You?"

Yusegar pondered a moment. "Go back to fighting, I guess. I have always felt I am supposed to do something great, but not what. So I exercise, practice, and fight, and hope I will be strong enough to do whatever I am meant to do."

"Very poetic, Yusegar. Hey, whats with the booze? Do you inmates have to wine eachother before giving the humanoid booster injection now, you primitive screwhead?"

The voice was not Der'kar's. It was somehat deep, smooth, and very relaxed. Dumbfounded, Yusegar looked at the floor before him and, sure enough, there stood what he had been smelling for the last few weeks. It had the head and body of a bunny, with the addition of birdlike wings, and antlers. A Wolpertinger.

"Bruce?!?"

((To be continued again....))

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Yusegar stared down at Bruce's "Rescuer", not entierly suprised. The little goblin was in a black business suit, his eyes concealed by a pair of dark goggles. It did not even speak to him for a while, too busy looking through papers.

A few days ago, Yusegarh ad found his old pet, Bruce the Wolpertinger, had been with him all this time. Yusegar had convnced Bruce to go get someone, anyone to help him out. Now, this goblin had strode to his cell as if nothing could touch him, the guards simply ignoring his presence.

"Hrm, well I think I might be able to help ya, Mr. Wolf," the goblin said, interrupting Yusegar's thoughts.

"Good!" Yusegar replied. He had never longed to be outside more than he had now. The goblin continued as if Yusegar had not spoken.

"Here's what we'll do. I'll get ya outta here, for starters, then I'll pull a few strings to get ya placed in higher up Horde military. Lieutenent General should be sufficient. Silvermoon won't make a move on ya anymore for fear of upsetting the little alliance they got going, and Vranesh won't be able to touch you cause you'll outrank him overall. How does that sound?"

Yusegar pondered a moment. "I do not like the idea of taking a rank that I have not earned."

The goblin finally looked up from his papers. "Listen, kid, they're not even handing these ranks out anymore. Back in the day, they were hurtin' for officers so they handed out ranks like candy based on how many kills ya got. You got a decent combat record here, and if they hadn't filled up the chain of command like they did you'd have some sort of sway and wouldn't even be in this mess. So you don't have to go around callin' yerself General, ya just gotta do your job and fight for the Horde, like you've been doin'."

"...ok. What is the catch?"

The goblin smiled a bit at this. "Smarter than ya look."

"I worked for the Cartel for a little while."

"Ah. We'll discuss it later. First, we gotta get you outta here. Take this potion a few hours from now, say the words 'Klatu, berata nikto' and it should get ya outta here. Camp out there and I'll meet ya."

"I'd write those words down, if I were you..." Bruce said from the Goblin's side.

Yusegar tucked the potion under his bed. Soon, he would be free...

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"The Words! Der'Kar! What were the Words!"

Der'kar looked up. "Heh, that chair to the face must have knocked some wits out of you. It was Kleta Baratha Nickel."

Yusegar sighed and swallowed the bitter fluid. "Here goes nothing. Klata, Baratha, Ni-Ugh!"

Yusegar nearly vomited the fluid while Der'kar laughed at him. Then, in a flash of light, they were gone.

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-Epilogue-

Yusegar stood atop an icy hill, staring into the great white beyond. His prisoner's garbd were discarded for heavy plate. Not a single place could his flesh be seen except for his eyes. He would not be found weak again. He would be iron.

A rustle of movement behind him caused him to turn around, drawing his massive battle axe. He lowered it, recognizing the goblin who still refused to give him his name.

"Glad to see you out. I wanted to meet you here so I could tell you that someday, and this dayy may never come, I will call you in for a favor in payment for what I have done for you. Until then, enjoy your freedom, Centurion."

"Centurion?" Yusegar asked, remembering he was supposed to become a Lieutenent General.

"It will suffice. I discovered some information that could prove disasterous to Vranesh's career, and was sure to let him know about it."

The sounds of battle jerked Yusegar's attention away from the strange goblin he owed his life to. Blood was reddening the snows of Alterec once again.

"Looks like your needed kid. I'll be on my way."

The Goblin had vanished by the time Yusegar turned around. Yusegar did not like being in debt to a goblin, but he would worry about that when the time came. For now, his people needed him. He was back where he belonged. Raising his axe in the air and uttering a cry of fury so loud it echoed through the hills, he ran and jumped off the cliff into the fray below. This was where he belonged.

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