Middle Road

A human rouge is wanted for ransom. A blood elf hunter, his two troll friends and a warlock orc happily undertake the job of kidnapping the ill tempered human. Fate brings rogue and the bounty hunters into circumstances that make their rivalry seem insignificant and petty.

All rights to blizz.

Chapter One: The Rogue

You'd be amazed by how hungry you can still get with the smell of rotting flesh ever present in your nostrils. Of course, after you've been locked away by the only family you have left, betrayed beyond meaning and befriended your country's sworn enemies, little would surprise you. I've been locked in this four walled, windowless room for three days now, and I'm not alone. The listless eyes of a dead orc have been boring into me for hours. I call him Frankie. The orc was alive yesterday, but he didn't pass some Death Knight initiation process so he got killed and dumped in here with me. Poor Frankie.

I'm next, after they kill me of course. The Lich King seems quite exited about it, says I have potential. Ooo lucky me.

Rolin's face keeps flickering in and out of my thoughts. He's going to blame himself. I shook my head and moaned. It's not his fault, this was my decision. I'm the one the Lich King wants, why should we all pay for my mistakes? Why should Rolin pay because I fell in love with him? No. My friends are better off without me.

Frankie is starting to ooze. I'm still so hungry I could seriously eat a tauren right now. The flies are particularly persistent despite the freakishly unnatural cold, and I feel stiff all over. I don't want to become a Death Knight, I can't think of anything worse than having my body used for pure evil after I'm gone. I wish Frankie were still alive enough to tell me what he did wrong, so I could flunk on purpose. I think some of my wounds are getting infected, the itching is becoming unbearable. My voice is raw from screaming, no one ever comes... except for who ever dumped Frankie in here.

You might be wondering how a perfectly normal, human dork like me got herself in this situation. Well... that's a long story.

xXx

I stood on the ship deck, inhaling the heavy saltwater air. I was surrounded by warriors, and druids, hunters and mages, races and classes of all kinds. We only had one thing in common, we were members of the Alliance, and we were battling for an ancient island against the Horde.

War was nothing new to me; I had seen enough bloodstained battle grounds to be satisfied for a lifetime. But there was always another valuable spot of land, another goldmine or relic that the Alliance and Horde went head to head over.

I personally had no interest in tactical advantage or land, I often signed up for the mere feeling of purpose. I wanted to belong somewhere.

My name is Adelle, it means 'Followed by the Stars' in Elvin folklore... or something like that. I've had an irregular childhood, not bad really... just different. I never knew my father, and my mother died when I was ten. She was a rogue, and I respect and admire her more than I can express. After she died, a paladin who worked with my father adopted me and had me trained as a paladin, hoping I might follow in the footsteps of my elusive father.

The paladins raised me in their faith, which I took to quickly. However, paladin combat was a whole different story. I was awkward, quiet and shy. I had a hard
time charging and performing seals, not to mention plate. It was very heavy and, yes, it does pinch. Then on my fifteenth birthday, I stealthed.

Stealth is a state in which the rogue turns semi invisible, nearly undetectable. The catch is you have to move slowly to maintain your cover, also if you happen upon someone with keen enough observation to detect you, you become visible again. To the experienced rogue stealth become second nature, like breathing.

It came so naturally to me, as did my preference to daggers rather than maces, and my tendency to come at my target from behind. Everything I did relied on the element of surprise. I was happy to have inherited my mother's abilities. My instructor observed my rogue oddities and gave me into the custody of a rogue trainer. Unfortunately rogues and paladins function on veeery different belief systems, thus SI:7 didn't want anything to do with me. We needed someone more off the grid.

Enter Kyatt, a bitter night elf rogue with little patience for failure... or humans for that matter. That must have been one of the more miserable periods of my life, the drills were endless. But in three years time I was transformed into a deadly assassin, flying by my peers in skill. It was a hard time, but I am a better rogue for it. But my soul will always be a paladins soul, I walk with the Holy Spirit guiding and comforting me every day.

The one good thing in my life during that period was Kyatt's daughter Kira, my best friend. She always had an amazing compassion for life! One day she tamed a wild bear and brought him home, that was when Kyatt decided to enroll her under hunter training.

Kira was standing by me then, on the battle ship, awaiting our impending doom or victory. Her pale bluish skin was offset by the purple sky, her long ears laid flat against her head, and her iridescent eyes glowed with excitement. Kira's sympathetic compassion for life did not extend to the Horde; she loved a good brawl just as much as the next girl. Kira glanced down at me, her electric blue hair fluttering loosely in the sea air. As tall as I was for a human I still looked short and dumpy next to the elegance of the night elves.

"I call shotgun on the demo, wanna ride with me?" She asked, nearly bouncing right off the deck with enthusiasm.

I glanced at her long ranged bow, then down at my sheathed daggers, "I need to closer than that, I can't do any damage that far off the ground."

Her wild brows furrowed, "Cant you just do some of you paladin-err-casty things? I don't like you crawling around, half immobile with a bunch of bloodthirsty Horde frolicking about."

I smirked. One thing about Kira, you had to appreciate her way with words. "First off, you know my skills as a paladin only extend to healing. Second my 'half immobile crawling' makes me near invisible. Thirdly, I'm an assassin- I need to be in throat slitting range dammit!"

Kira bowed her head and pressed her pale lips together tightly, I worried for a second that I had hurt her feelings. She grinned. Rats.

"Why don't you just come along and be my personal healer then?" She asked, clearly pleased with herself.

I growled and began to rummage in my backpack. Happily, I located a wad of bandages and a few healing potions and clumsily shoved them at her. "You're a big girl," I muttered. I know it was selfish of me, but I hated the demolition tanks. They reeked of gas and blew toxic fumes in my face, I preferred to keep my own two feet planted firmly on the ground where they belonged. I wished I could talk Kira out of riding the mechanical monster, but I could count myself lucky if I got out of it and time was running out.

"If I see any of you idiots hit the green gates I'll slaughter you myself!" Bellowed the commander, "Take down blue first and follow me only! I don't need any morons getting lost!"

Speak of the devil.

I saw the beach of the Ancients coming into view. The thick fog pulled back like grey-purple curtains, and the yellow sunlight glinted against the Horde's armored bodies. They roared loudly and shook their weapons in the air. I smirked, all this over some rusty old relic that would probably end up in the living room of some General. I sighed at the ridiculousness of it all and unsheathed my daggers.

Kira pressed her fingers between her lips and let out a sharp whistle. Presently, a large russet colored bear lumbered out of under the deck. On all fours the animal came to my shoulders, and when he stood... he towered over Kira herself.

"Come to me Hamlett", she cooed softly. The ferocious animal was at her side in seconds, looking at her with pure adoration.

I liberally sloshed poison on my daggers, "See you out there." I said, "Don't do anything stupid," I added with mock scolding. Kira laughed and waved her bow at me as she gracefully leapt from the boat and landed on the dock below.

About an hour later I found myself ridiculously far behind and limping, I couldn't even see my unit anymore. The battle overall was not going well, we were losing to say the least. I was covered in cuts and soot, and my tangled hair was billowing around me wildly, obscuring my line of vision. I tried to push it out of my face, but stopped when I felt warm, sticky fluid on my forehead. At that point I wasn't sure if it was my hands or my head that was bleeding, but I didn't care... all I cared about was putting one foot in front of the other. The pain was getting to be an issue though, so I grabbed my last healing potion out of my backpack.

"You'd better not got waste," I muttered as if the bottle could hear me. I popped the cork, pressed the cool glass to my lips and let the bitter dose pool under my tongue. I clenched my jaw to keep myself from hurling the stuff into the sand. I don't care who you are, you never-NEVER- get used to the taste of dirt and oil.

I sputtered and gagged for a minute. Then I gathered my strength and rounded a clump of palm trees, just to stop dead in my tracks. Only a few feet in front of me sat a blood elf hunter-THE hunter by the way that had inflicted me with most of my current injuries. I crouched back onto my heels and slipped into stealth.

He sat in the sand, his clenched fist buried in the black fur of a saber's corpse. I slowly realized the saber was the animal I had seen at his side earlier. His pet.

The hunter and the pet is an extremely close relationship. You rely on each other, and put the others life before your own. There are few humanoids who have been lucky enough to have a friendship as trusting and undying as the hunter and his pet.

I myself, had not killed the animal, but I knew someone from my fraction had. I was in no condition to fight him, my healing potion had just barely started to hit. I knew I had to find a way around the mourning hunter, although the surrounding vegetation was going to make it difficult. I hoped he was absorbed deeply enough in his grief not to notice me, I had to get back to my fraction.

I slowly straightened my posture, gritting my teeth against the pain. I carefully began tip toeing through the foliage, making the widest circle around him I could manage. I had to hand it to myself, maybe my elvish upbringing and rogue training had finally kicked in. I fancied myself to be incredibly graceful, with a cat like stealth-

*SNAP*

You totally saw that coming, didn't you? That always freaking happens! Stupid damn twigs! Someone should take ALL the twigs in the whole world and mash them into pudd-I'm getting off track here, my deepest apologies.

Anyhoo, I suppose my self appointed praise became my undoing. The hunter's bright green eyes flashed open, his entire being went rigid. Before I could react, he threw a flare into the vegetation, exposing me. We stared at each other for three counts. He was very... well pretty for a guy I guess. Although blood elves have a reputation for being extremely good looking, I hadn't paid their looks any attention until now. His glowing eyes were framed by black eyelashes and dark eyebrows (his eyebrows weren't as long as most blood elves) his hair was sandy blond and kind of messy. He had about two days stubble growing with a strong jaw and a fairly muscular build. At the time I vaguely noticed several inconsistencies with his appearance compared to most blood elves, but I had little time to register much
else.

The hunter recognized me, and his chapped lips split into a wicked grin. The feelings I experienced must be what they call that 'My life flashed before my eyes' moment. Mine was a pitiful collection of haphazard mental pictures. The elf drew an arrow across his bow, and aimed for my heart. I squeezed my eyes shut and prayed for a quick death.

I heard the arrow hissing through the air, and then silence. I smiled, perhaps my uneventful somewhat lonely life had earned me a peaceful death. I opened my eyes to find myself staring at an arrow head just inches from my own. I blinked. My own arm was outstretched in front me, my own fingers clamped tightly around the arrow's middle.

The hunter was as startled as I was, but he quickly recovered and drew another arrow. Before I even understood what I was doing I found myself hurling towards him. I snatched his bow and snapped the string with my dagger. He unsheathed his own daggers and swung at me with surprising skill. Most hunters rely heavily on their bows and their pets; few even carry daggers let alone know how to use unfortunately, for him, his skill was lacking compared to mine, and I overcame him quickly. In the back of my mind I must have had no desire to kill him, but I was no longer prepared to face death myself. That's how my dagger ended up in his leg, not his heart.

The hunter collapsed in agony, screaming elfish curses at me. I removed my weapon from his leg grimly, and then I noticed he was bleeding excessively. On one hand I knew he was my enemy, and the loyal thing to do would be to let him bleed to death. But the thought of it seemed so... cruel. I thought of the orcs that had murdered my mother, they allowed her to suffer horribly. I could feel my teeth grind involuntarily at the memory. I would never be like them, even if this elf deserved no less... I could not be like them.

I yanked my last bandage out of my backpack and knelt beside him. The blood elf seemed to have given in to exhaustion and had stopped cursing at me for the time being. I pried his hands off the wound and wrapped the bandage around his leg, but it was quickly soaked. I knew it wasn't enough to save him.

I shook my head, "I can't believe I'm doing this," I muttered. I pressed my hands on the severed artery and began to pray the paladin healing prayer. I summoned as much faith as I could while I chanted the prayer. I gingerly peeled back the bandage and watched as healing power stitched the flesh back together.

The blood elf stared at me in utter horror. I didn't know what bothered him more, the fact that I was a freak rogue with paladin beliefs, or because I was trying to heal him after trying to kill him. Either way I didn't care, I still had a unit to find.

I stood as fast as my decrepit body would allow. "Don't come after me," I warned him. "I might finish you next time," I added, trying to sound threatening. Can't have him thinking all Alliance members are Horde lovin' wimps.

I limped back toward the trees and turned to look at the blood elf one last time.

"It is you who will suffer if we cross paths again, human," he sneered in perfect orcish.

I was careful to keep my face blank as a sheet, pretending I didn't understand him. It was considered illegal where I came from to speak orcish, except for spies of the Alliance. As a rogue the Alliance had often hired me not only as an assassin, but as a spy. To understand him would have blown my cover and pissed off any nearby Alliance members. I turned and continued on my journey. No matter, I assured myself I would never see that elf again.