"Wake up."
Caelwen, a night elf and Sentinel to her kind, barely heard a voice through the murky darkness she was currently lost in. She wandered about it, vainly hoping to find something, possibly the sound that graced her long, pointed ears, yet encountered nothing. In this twisted dream of nothingness, many of her memories felt distorted and forgotten, but she knew that once she finally awoke that she wouldn't like what she had to come back to.
"Wake up, elf!" the voice spoke again, this time louder, telling her clearly that it was male in origin. Her glowing eyes snapping open in response, the night elf finally picked her head up from the damp, cold and clammy stone ground with a sore groan. Sitting up, she wiped a hand over her face sluggishly, passing it over the line-esque tattoos that were marked over her eyes.
As full consciousness returned to her, Caelwen quickly remembered what had become of her. Her fellow Sentinels and herself engaged a raiding party of naga myrmidons that were attempting to encroach upon the edge of the settlement of Lor'danel, in northern Darkshore. The party of the sea-dwelling creatures proved larger than what was anticipated, and she herself had been singled out by nearly a dozen of the burly serpents. Despite slaying many of them with her moonglaive and bow, the last thing she could recollect before her capture was a sharp pain hitting the base of her skull, and then nothing.
If she was correct, that was a week ago. For whatever reason that was their own, she had been kept by the foul creatures as their lone prisoner, and before they moved her to a visibly different location, they would knock her out again using a similar method as before. Awakening in what appeared to be a dark and dank cavern, behind coral-grown bars, was the third time now that this had happened. Deciding to look toward where that voice had spoken, Caelwen's vision adjusted accordingly.
It was a human. He had a dirty and unkempt silver beard and hair, tanned skin, and a set of dull blue eyes. Over his body was a set of armor the elf faintly recognized, through all the muddy filth it was caked in, as being what the knights of Stormwind were acquainted with wearing; save the several parts of it that were missing, most notably the left pauldron.
"You got captured too, I presume?" he asked her in an affable tone.
"How did you guess?" she replied sourly, not being very fond of humans in general. Deciding to look over her own form, Caelwen could see that the naga had at least left her armor intact still. Getting to her legs, she brushed her hands through her long, fair, teal hair and let out a sigh. "How and when did I get here?"
"Those snakes dumped you in here about a half hour ago," he answered. "I thought you were dead until I noticed you were still breathing. By the way, we're not the only ones here. The orc over there is a good example of what I mean."
Spinning her head around, the elf looked to where he motioned to. Sitting in a ball in the corner of the prison, as she had been told, was an orc. He was a rather scrawny fellow, unusually thin for most of his brutish kind, with short, yellow tusks pointing upward and out from his bottom jaw. Despite being bald, there was a small bit of black hair he had tied into a long knot on the top of his head.
"Well, looks like we're all in this together, aren't we?" Caelwen joylessly groaned to him with a sarcastic shrug. The orc grunted something back in orcish, and while neither Caelwen or the human understood what he said, he sounded blatantly unhappy.
"Why did you decide to awaken me?" the night elf inquired upon slowly returning her attention to the man.
"Because I think we're all about to get moved... somewhere," he said in a hushed voice, coughing into his fist. "I know some Darnassian, and what those naga over there said to each other a few minutes ago vaguely resembled a little bit of it. I wasn't able to discern much, but what I did make out convinced me of that." Caelwen and the human looked through the hole-like bars of their durable coral prison, and soon saw the only two naga within their line of sight. They were both males with a greenish tint to the scales covering their bodies, and long, sharpened scimitars clutched tightly in their hands.
One would ocasionally sneak a look in her direction, and then hiss something into the other's webbed, finned ear. Through her elf ears, Caelwen detected them saying phrases in their twisted Nazja language; a thick dialect of her native Darnassian. She could not tell what exactly it was that their simple minds were planning, and even so, it was a scant few minutes later that the pair slithered their brawny, scaly shapes over to the prison and cast scornful leers at the three, before circling to the front.
One pulled the front of the cell, a door made of carved whalebone, and opened it. With the door-opener standing guard, the other slunk in and pointed the curved front of his weapon at the prisoners, jerking the tip to where he had entered, motioning for them to exit.
"Time to go, I'd reckon," the man said as he walked past the orc and Caelwen, a prod from a scimitar pushing him out all the way. Rolling her eyes, Caelwen walked out before she had to be jabbed by the sword as well. The orc, however, stubbornly refused the order despite clearly getting what it meant, but was eventually goaded out of the cell when the scaly aberration gripped him by the ragged, woven shirt he wore and hoisted him forward. From there the naga made their charges begin forward, leaving the prison area behind, and entering a tunnel as black as pitch.
The escort passed through the dark tunnel until a light at the far end came into view. Exiting it after a few minute's worth of walking at a snail's pace, the three prisoners saw that they had entered an enormous, circular arena of sorts, directly below the roof of the torchlit cave. Naga, a great many of them, lined the tiered edges of the arena, each one unleashing echoing cheers and savage, booming roars once the sight of the three competitors came into view and the previously-unseen portcullis was lowered to the ground over the tunnel behind them, preventing any form of escape.
Caelwen knew the moment she had the chance to examine the place that it was a gladiatorial pit, and it didn't take her much longer to realize what the other two and herself were here for. Looking at the hundreds of the naga staring down at her with a curled lip, her sights eventually landed on a single one who sat in a lavish booth, elevated over the others in a prominent and authoritative display. It was a female, obviously seen by the less bestial features they possessed over the males.
Her dark green form was tall and slender, while a breastplate of glittering bronze adorned her chest, and jewel-embedded bracelets of a similar texture rested around the beginnings of all four of her arms. Lining her body, connecting at the crown of her head and stopping below the base of her 'hip', were three trails of long dorsal spines that were linked together by webbed, bright yellow fins, making her appearance that much more fishlike, yet also somewhat regal. Her two eyes, both shimmering gold like a pair of radiant gemstones and half-closed, peered down at the three prisoners with malevolently thin black pupils as her dark, blue-purple lips curled into a wicked smile.
Rising from her seat, her four arms rose with her, and in one of them, gripped tightly, was an impressive staff. "I hope you three are willing to listen, for I have one decree you must abide in this arena: You must fight if you wish to live," the being spoke commandingly in the common language with her Nazja accent rolling off of the base of her tongue. Looking away from them, to the naga currently standing in the fighting pit, she nodded her head. "Bring our fighters their weapons."
A male naga bearing a rolled-up bundle of cloth in his arms slithered up to the three. Letting out a rumbling growl from behind his closed mouth, he dropped the bundle to the ground and rolled it open with the flick of his thick, three-fingered wrist, revealing an assortment of tools on display before departing from them.
The weapons presented looked to be in pitiful condition, to Caelwen's ire. Quickly acting, before the other contestants could snatch up the good ones, the night elf picked up a shortsword with a chipped tip, a plain-looking bow, and a small satchel of arrows. Hoisting the satchel over her shoulder and hooking the shortsword to her side, she looked to the other two to see what they had gained.
The orc had grabbed a large, worn battle axe that still had a deadly texture to it. The man had picked up a broadsword of decent length and craft, but had rotted leather lining its hilt and grip. As they readied themselves for what was to come next, the grating sounds of gates opening went out from a distance away, and Caelwen looked to the end of the arena opposite to them. Two doorways, not unlike the one they exited from but smaller, were opening up. From them, two separate groups of what looked to be murlocs and gilgoblins began to dash out.
The murlocs were small creatures with the unfortunate features of both fish and frog, and each one had a slimy hide of various colors. The gilgoblins - a squat, mutant, water-faring subspecies of normal goblins - took a look at their new surroundings with crooked grins of their long-nosed faces. The orc charged toward the gilgoblins with a warcry that left Caelwen's ears ringing, and the human, sword in his hands, headed for the murlocs just as both the bands of short beings took notice of them and began to run over to intercept them.
Caelwen just stood where she was. As her gaze fell across the arena, she watched as the orc was quickly mobbed by the gilgoblins. The larger, greenskinned creature swung his axe at them left and right, ending the life of one of the mutant creatures with every cleave he made, but his unstoppable ferocity did not last. After one of the squat creatures sunk its small, but exceptionally sharp teeth into the orc's ankle, he topple to the floor on his back with a cry. The spectating crowd of naga let out booming roars of entertainment when the same gilgoblin, the last still breathing, just barely finished the job with another, fatal bite to the orc's throat as he tried to scramble for his fallen axe.
Driven to a frenzy by the taste of blood in its mouth and the rush of the battle, the gilgoblin spun about and caught sight of the night elf a short ways away. As he began to run at her, she in turn cocked an arrow into her bow and took aim before firing it.
With uncanny accuracy, despite being unfamiliar with this average weapon when compared to the bow she normally used in battle, the arrow pierced the creature's throat, quickly silencing it under a reverberation of choked gurgling. As it toppled to the ground in a heap, it made a few, wretched twitching movements before falling still. Hearing another noise just after finishing the goblinoid, Caelwen saw the shapes of a pair of murlocs rapidly approaching. The two had split off from the small horde that had been attacking the human, who in the meantime was quickly mowing them down by himself with just his sword. Having seen him make short work of their brethren must have caused them to rethink their primitive tactics, and so decided to assault her instead.
The first murloc to reach her lunged forth with the old butcher knife it brandished and a traditional, gibbering murloc cry. Sidestepping it at a speed faster than the squat creature could comprehend, she dropped her bow, tugged her shortsword out, lifted it over her head as the fish-like being landed upon the ground, and slashed it downward. The murloc was unable to even let out a grunt of pain as the dull-edged blade pierced through the skin lining the nape of its neck. Sinking deep, it nearly decapitated the thing, but stopped dead in its path just before it could. Yanking it out of the now-limp murloc, Caelwen examined the blood-stained blade with a surprised glint in her eyes.
It was certainly no moonglaive, but it had its uses. Turning behind her, Caelwen spotted the second murloc coming upon her. The creature jumped with a growl, its claws outstretched and ready to tear at her purple flesh. Caelwen simply, and quickly raised the sword from her waist in response, and the unwitting creature impaled itself upon the chipped tip with a squelch of metal-on-flesh. Once she was sure it was dead, she let it slide and fall from her blade to the ground.
The naga were fairly amused by her kills, and continued their incessant shouting. The mistress herself had a smug expression about her face, and her glowing eyes cast a venomous, but serene stare at the two remaining competitors; Caelwen in particular. It was no small secret that night elves and naga had a profound hatred of one another stemming from their history dating back to the Great Sundering many millennia before, the conclusion of which resulted in the latters' creation.
With a small movement of their leader's hand, the sound of a conch shell horn trumpeted through the stale air, and one of the two gates began to rise up again. Inside of the tunnel it lead to, swiftly emerging, was a tall, shadowy figure.
The being to exit the tunnel, as revealed by the torchlight, was a naga. A larger-than-usual male one at that, holding a great metal trident of casual making in both of his hands. A trail of tall, turquoise, sail-like fins raced down his back, and the long beard-like barbel appendages lining from the edge of his jaw to the front of his chin moved about as he swayed his head.
He looked at the two as he saw their shapes, his reptilian jaws opening and then clacking shut in anticipation to face them. Strangely enough, he wore shoddy leather armor over his muscular frame, leaving him just as, if not even less defended than the two remaining warriors, but his bony shoulders made a fine piece of natural armor. Before going further into the ring, the creature looked up to the sorceress in the booth, and bowed his head to her. Smiling, she nodded back but a single time.
Noticing a small bout of movement to her left, Caelwen looked to the human man from before as he stared at the naga intensely. Gritting his teeth into a fearsome scowl, he charged forth at the creature with a defiant cry. "For the Alliance!" were the words he chose to shout at the top of his aching lungs, sword held aloft over his head and ready to strike.
The naga braced himself for the attack, and soon after, the man's sword deflected off of the trident. Pushing him back with a shove, the naga unleashed a powerful slash that swatted the weapon out of the human's hands, and refocused the tip of his trident on him in a second motion. Thrusting it forward before the human could realize what was happening, he impaled him through his chest armor and lifted his above him with his inhuman strength. After watching the life bled out of his stunned eyes, the naga, with a satisfied expression, tossed his limp figure away like a spent toy and let out a roar of victory that was echoed by the audience.
With one down in such a brief encounter, the naga looked toward Caelwen next. His draconic head tilted to the side as he examined her female shape with the reddish, reptilian eyes he possessed; their pupils dilating into thin slits before widening again. After stroking one of his facial tendrils with a hand, the serpent saw the elf go for her fallen bow with a typical grace in her footsteps.
Lifting her bow from the ground, Caelwen notched an arrow. Nearly a second after taking aim, she shot it at the creature. But, with a hollow twack, the arrowhead broke upon his scaly skin without so much as leaving a mark upon him. Caelwen growled angrily to herself, and the naga peeled what little lips he had back to reveal a long, jagged grin, before suddenly bursting into a charge.
As he was within arm's length of his prey, the naga swung his trident in a downward angle, missing Caelwen and hitting the ground with crash of metal and scattering of moist, sandy soil, before reeling it back and performing a vertical swipe. The night elf ducked below it and jumped forward as quick as a gust of wind, the sword now in both of her hands and ready to strike.
Shouting, she struck him with it, but in a similar exertion as what happened with the arrow, the sword grazed off of the naga's scaly hide, leaving only a minor scrape in its wake. Bellowing an irritated growl at her effort to fatally harm him, the naga swiped his free arm at his assailant, effortlessly hitting her away with the mighty blow. Landing on the ground in a slide, but jumping to her feet before she could stop, Caelwen tried to think of another method of attack. She had but a second to recover, as the naga was already rushing at her with murder on his mind.
Bellowing, he slashed at her once, forcing her to dodge backwards, then did it again, prompting a similar response as the one before it. He continued pressing this form of attack, stabbing, cutting and poking at the nimble night elf, until one attack, a sideways slash, finally hit. The barbed tip of the trident's middle prong cut through a portion of her right stomach, piecing through her Sentinel armor as though it were tin, and forming a gash in her flesh.
Gasping in pain, Caelwen stumbled back several feet, and the naga, tired from his multiple attempts to hit her, stood where he now was and watched. Placing a hand to her abdomen, Caelwen then lifted it to her face as she saw the warm blood sticking to it, staining her purple skin crimson. Already, past the agony, she began to feel faint and light in the head from the amount of ichor that had spilled from her body to the ground, but took in a large gulp of air and ground her teeth together. Glaring daggers at the naga, he looked back at her with a wide grin.
Mustering what little strength she had, she ran forward at the creature with a roar. Placing his trident back into both of his hands in a defensive position, the naga let out a conceited laugh when she grabbed at it. But no sooner had his cackling commenced, he was caught off guard by a sudden, swift kick that Caelwen was able to plant onto his soft throat, using the trident to push herself at him. Falling to the floor from the top-heavy portion of his muscular body, he just managed to catch himself with his arms. But as he started to push himself back up, Caelwen had already taken a hold of his heavy weapon and stared down at him with a maddened look in her addled eyes.
With a final gasp before darkness overtook all of her senses, Caelwen forced all of her remaining strength into the horizontal swing of the trident, bringing it down upon the naga with pure rage at its backing. Hitting true, the three-pronged weapon's blunt, curving edge impacted against the side of the rising naga's skull, immediately halting his efforts to recuperate and sending him crashing back to the ground with a heavy thud. Her grip slack and no longer driven anything, the trident left Caelwen's hand as it hit its original owner, and the elf collapsed like a fallen log next to the creature.
Neither one moved after that, and the crowd that was there to witness the brutal battle were wracked with shock at its outcome. Their roaring cheers had been silenced to hushed murmurs as it was made clear what had become of the final two combatants, and the naga mistress herself could only look upon them with a loosened jaw and widened eyes of complete surprise, most of this gaze held over the male naga in disbelief. Quickly placing an ugly grimace over her fair face and hissing an order into a nearby subordinate's ear, the guard abandoned the booth and jumped into the arena.
He slithered to the fallen fighters at a crawl, and delicately pressed a careful index claw upon their jugulars one at a time. When he received the results he was searching for, he chomped his fangs together and moved a hand through the tendrils lining the side of his jaw. Looking up to his mistress solemnly, the guard gave single nod, confirming what was originally thought.
Both of them, through the loss of blood in one and blunt trauma in the other, had knocked each of themselves unconscious.
Author's notes: Feel free to give me yer opinion on the story so far! I could always use the reviews to improve things, or take suggestions that could make things better.