I'm not even sure why I release a new story, considering how many remain unfinished, but it is as though I cannot focus on any one task, and my mind is disjointed and confused at best. A myriad of conflicting ideas and inspiration kind of makes me want to write about a new topic every day. Still, some people may enjoy those thoughts, so I write them down. I hope you can gain some enjoyment from them.
Perhaps I should apologise in advance for the language barriers I've instilled here, which will mean not only a lot of gibberish to read through, but SO MANY spellcheck lines on my screen that I simply turned it off, so I hope any true errors didn't slip through.
Chapter 1 - A Victim of Circumstance.
"Shadow hide you Alvarian." The sibilant voice hissed in greeting as the lithe figure appeared from the shadows, nodding to her. Though it had taken some mental fortitude and also persistence, looking at the forsaken now no longer bothered her. It was just like looking at an Orc or Tauren, another normal being. Perhaps it had helped that this particular specimen still had most of his face intact. Currently it was offering her a small grin.
"That would be helpful Saerin, but you know I'm not adept at such arts." She responded with a small smile at her long time companion. "You seem unusually pleased today, should I be concerned?" Her tone was teasing as she regarded him. Saerin and she had aided each other greatly in Tranquillen and had travelled and grown strong with each other since. She remembered when she first met him she had been as foolish and xenophobic as most of her kind, the Blood Elves. She had been so young and naïve then, fresh out of Silvermoon with her long flowing brown hair and her face covered with makeup. It was only a few months before she cut it into a short brown ponytail, and forswore expenditure on frivolous amenities, in favour of bandages. Who was she comparing her beauty to? The Horde weren't exactly gorgeous individuals. . .
"Hardly such." He responded with a shrug of one shoulder, exposing a little bone. "In fact I feel a little worried. This. . . battle. It was far too easy." He gestured around with one arm indicating the few bodies surrounding them, covered only in blue tabards. They had long since salvaged all the armour and weapons from the fallen Alliance soldiers. There had been relatively few casualties on their side, perhaps fifteen men lost to the Alliance's twenty. For taking an entrenched fortification that was good odds. Less of a battle it had been, more of a massacre.
"They weren't expecting us Saerin. Nor did they expect you to open the gates for us from inside. I still do not understand how you brave crawling behind enemy lines like that." She knew she would not be able to handle it, her training had been in scholastic values and meditation. All the arcane arts of magic lay at her command, carefully honed and trained. She was one of the few to ignore the elements in favour of the arcane itself.
"When you have died once already, all fear becomes relative." He answered her, apparently still nervous judging from his stern expression. "What I mean though, is that we are now too weak to hold this structure. We have but twelve men remaining. I'm sure the Alliance will not allow this to pass so close to their territory. They will attack." He quickly looked around, as if expecting them to prove his words correct at that very moment. She had to say she agreed with his evaluation however. They were currently in the wetlands, having taken an important garrison close to Menethil harbour. The garrison had been a supply line guard for reinforcements into the Arathi Basin, as such it was important for the Alliance to maintain it. Trapped between Menethil harbour, Ironforge and Arathi Basin? There were more than enough Alliance close by to spare the time to kill them.
"I don't think we will be staying here long Saerin. I think our esteemed leader intends for us to take what we can and flee, a clear message delivered." Their leader Grarthor certainly wasn't a likeable Orc, but there was no denying his skill in battle. Surely he would order the retreat soon.
"Better sooner than later Alvarian. I sense dark times in the air." She had no response to this, Saerin had always said such things, but then he had never really been wrong either. She decided it might be time to seek Grarthor out herself. . . maybe give the Orc a little . . . suggestion.
The halls of the tower were mostly empty, the bodies were being piled together by a few forsaken who were probably intending to set them alight. Alvarian could not help but feel this was a cruel gesture to the families living here who would not get to bury their loved ones. Still, the memories of the Scourge were fresh in everyone's minds and it was caution, rather than cruelty, which guided their hands. That which was buried did not always remain so.
Alvarian had not been spared their atrocities either. She had lost her mother to Arthas when he destroyed the Sunwell, and later her father had been lost when the Alliance betrayed and abandoned them. It was then that she had decided to journey out into the world in an effort to defeat the Lich King. Like many she had become a little side tracked however. . . what could she honestly say? The Alliance were everywhere she went, and she had been forced to fight many through her travels. From small camps of them she had been ordered to attack in groups, or sabotage. Right down to Dwarves or Gnomes leaping on her as she walked home at night. Her innocence had been lost long ago when she had incinerated a Night Elf who had thought to attack her as she was lost in Ashenvale . . . The hatred was clearly mutual and bitter. She hadn't even wanted to harm her dark skinned cousin, but he had forced the conclusion.
Now she was a hundred times stronger with flowing robes infused with tremendous power, and a magical knife that glowed like a small sun. And here she was, attacking a weakened outpost and taking part in the slaughter of its inhabitants for no other reason than they were in their way. This was life, she supposed. She didn't have to like it, simply to do her part. For the Horde.
"Grarthor!" She shouted out, catching the dusky brown Orc's attention as he turned to regard her, his heavy saronite armour shining dully in the dim light. A mighty battleaxe was strung across his back, giving a faint glow and a hum. She supposed he was a fine specimen of an Orc, large and muscled with long tusks and a long, matted beard.
"Throm Ka, Alvarian. What ails you?" He grated out in his gravelly voice.
"Throm Ka Grarthor. . . I came to enquire as to our next orders. Some of the men are concerned that we cannot hold this outpost." She would not mention Saerin of course, she was more loyal than that. Neither would she suggest these were her own thoughts. . . she was more intelligent than that. The tall Orc grunted once in acknowledgement of her words.
"They are correct then. We will not be staying here. In one hour we shall ride to Hammerfall." She nodded in response as she allowed a small sigh of relief to escape her. Hammerfall was a strong defensive fort with many men, and was also not far away from their current position. Truth be told, she wished she could construct a portal for them, but in enemy territory like this her efforts were likely to be detected and sabotaged by enemy Magisters. . . . She couldn't take the risk of accidentally landing them all in the middle of Stormwind. "You should prepare for departure now, we-"
"C'mmander!" A voice shouted out suddenly, as a tall blue troll stumbled into the room, his face paler than usual. "De Alliance be attackin' mon!" The effect on them was instantaneous as Grarthor swung his axe from over his shoulder and ran to the door, knocking the troll hunter out of the way. Alvarian followed after him, stopping to pull the downed troll to his feet.
"How many were there? How far?" She asked furiously as they rushed after the savage Orc commander.
"Enuff mon." He grunted back, his long legs taking him a little ahead of her. He yelled back. "It be de Raven Guard mon. . . me saw the tabards. . ." Her eyes widened at his words. The Raven Guard were actually a guild, but were well known to the Horde. They were perhaps the most efficient and powerful guild that specialised in the defence of the Alliance and their lands. Alvarian didn't fancy her chances against a force of such people.
"Flee to the roof!" The voice of Grarthor boomed, confusing her though she obeyed nonetheless. She could already hear the pounding on the main gates which the Orc must have locked. Were they planning a last stand? Dying with honour might be well and good for Grarthor, but she had other things she wanted to achieve in life.
As she breached the steps leading upwards she found Saerin waiting for her, a put-out expression on his face. Others were arranged there also, maybe ten in total. Had they lost people already? "Alvarian, we need to fall safely." He instructed and her eyes widened. Frantically rummaging in her bags she was relieved to find a brace of light feathers, carefully preserved in a moment of fastidiousness she now praised. Focusing she forced her energy into them and handed the glowing feathers amongst the group. They all mounted quickly, crowding the small roof as they clutched the feathers and looked at the big drop before them.
"This sucks." Saerin accurately summarised as he nudged his skeletal horse forwards. Alvarian's own strider shied nervously away from the gruesome mount but thankfully did not panic. The loud explosion downstairs made Alvarian panic however.
"Fly!" She commanded, kicking her mount savagely to override its own instincts not to take the obviously fatal drop. The strider spread its wings uselessly. . . and glided. As she watched the ground slowly approach and others floating along beside her, she wondered if they would escape this so easily. A horn sounding nearby told her otherwise. Apparently the Raven Guard were not so foolish, that much should have been obvious.
"Land riding!" Grarthor ordered loudly, suiting his own actions to words as his wolf leapt forwards as soon as its paws touched the ground. The others landed in a similar fashion. Alvarian spared a glance behind her before her own mount safely hit the ground, her eyes widening as she noticed a small group of mounted people pursuing them. There were only six or so, but they could not afford to slow down, for others would certainly not be far behind.
"Faster damn it!" She whispered, leaning her head further down in an effort to make her more aerodynamic. She had to get out of here. She drew along line with Grarthor who rode at the back of their column on his black wolf.
"Alvarian! We need to distract them." He shouted across the din at her, the words barely reaching her ears past her rapidly beating heart.
"What!?" She shouted back at him. "How?" How did he expect her to distract them, she couldn't channel the arcane energies while mounted. She couldn't even really look behind her without suffering whiplash from the wind.
"You're a hero Alvarian. the Horde will honour you." She turned to look at him at his words, her mouth opening to reply, only for a scream to come out. Her strider collapsed on itself as a knife blade entered its side, throwing Alvarian from the saddle as she slammed into the hard floor of the Arathi bridge. Her mind reeled for a moment as she realised what had happened as her companions sped away. Betrayal . . .
Stomping from behind her caught her attention as she span around to see five horses and a nightsabre bearing down on her. I'm about to die. Instincts hardened by combat made her quickly unleash a blast of frost around her, immediately stopping the enemy in their tracks. As might have been expected the riders did not take so well to the sudden halt of momentum and were cruelly thrown from their saddles, slamming into the floor with loud curses. A dark armoured figure hurtled towards Alvarian herself and forced her to dodge, interrupting her casting. Spinning on one foot she made to run away, hoping to jump from the bridge and risk the waters below, unfortunately her enemies were quicker to recover and her lack of attention cost her.
"Eyaaaarrrrghhh!" She screamed as an incredible pain slammed through her mind, white-hot agony bursting through her head and coursing through every thought like a hot knife running along her arm. One of her legs spasmed and kicked the other, slamming her already bruised body to the floor again. The pain ceased a moment later and she turned on her rear with tears in her eyes, noticing the Night elf, whose robes suggested she was a priest, pointing at her. She felt a small tug as she focused on her, before feeling suddenly weaker. The priest was draining her mana!
"Fire blurghl!" She tried to shout, throwing her hands forwards, only to slur over her words as one of the humans pointed at her, somehow stopping her casting. She realised with shock that the woman was a mage also, and counter spelled her. The situation was not looking good. This is honestly it, I'm dead. . .
"Ru alors garbud. Uden la orfu emas majis." A tall brown-haired man with two small daggers commented as he looked at her. Another laughed.
"Stay back!" She yelled in equal parts anger and fear. She reached into herself only to feel the last of her mana leave her to the priest. She had mana gems of course, but how quickly could she consume one and cast?
"Time to die Sin'Dorei." The priest taunted in fluent Thalassian, shocking her. Frustrated she shook her head, tears pricking at her eyes. Today had started so well, now she was about to die because of one Orc's cowardice and betrayal. She'd known that one day she might die, but she had always expected it to be on her own terms. With her fighting to the last. Not sat on the floor covered in dust with no mana and five slightly bemused enemies facing her.
A dwarf dressed in full black plate armour approached her with a double handed sword held in his hands. Alvarian thought it almost amusing, in a despairing way, to be cut down while on her ass by a person who normally would struggle to reach her neck. . . Was he trying to compensate for something with such a large weapon!?
"Vast!" A voice shouted suddenly, causing the dwarf to stop and look back. Alvarian felt her already frayed nerves exploding within her as she considered how she was being dangled on the verge of death before being pulled back again and again. Kill her or spare her, but for the Love of the light, let them decide quickly! . . The man who had interrupted this time was a paladin. Obviously. Long blonde hair reaching down to his shoulders and a blonde beard, dressed in bright silver and white armour that shone with a holy light. Even his warhorse looked practically holy. You couldn't have made anyone into a more stereotypical image of a paladin if you had tried.
Idly she wondered if she could use the small amount of mana that was pooling within her due to this small rest, to implode the chest of her enemies. She had enough to force an Arcane Barrage straight through the Dwarf's chest, ripping him to pieces… for all the good that would do her. If this torture continued much longer though then she would consider it, except maybe that blasted Kel'dorei would be the one to gain a detailed view at her own internal organs. Yes, that would be justice.
"Eldus tus ru uden la. Stahs!" The new paladin ordered, his tone clear despite her not understanding their tongue. It sounded rough and boring to her, but what could one expect from a tongue called "common?"
"Perhaps it is your lucky day Sin'dorei." The priest snarled with a frustrated glare at her. "Our Lord Commander Alric Tirran has declared you are a prisoner of the Alliance, and a prisoner of the Raven Guard." Her tone showed that she clearly thought a better fate for her would be death, but Alvarian didn't see how this would be any different. The stockades was a well known dungeon, even to the Horde. She would be kept, tortured, interrogated, and then most likely executed in Stormwind. A slower death.
"No!" She shouted angrily, casting caution to the side as lightning crackled over her skin and she pulled her last mana to her hand for a strike. It wasn't to be however, faster than she had expected a dark floating chain settled around her neck and all air to her throat cut off. Her spell died unuttered, the Dwarf looking at her with a small smirk on his face.
"Never faced a Death Knight before?" The priest taunted once more, smiling as she watched her claw at her throat in vain. Whatever Alvarian wanted to say went unsaid, as her vision started to dim at the edges from the lack of oxygen. As she collapsed to the ground she thought she saw the paladin look into her eyes. Then darkness.
In reflection it was impossible to tell what was the first sense she regained when she awoke. Her immediate area was quiet, though the sounds of creaking and water were poignant, she could feel something itchy and sharp against her skin and at the same time smell a musty scent. Certainly it was her sight which came to her last though, and her vision swam horribly as she opened her eyes. It was difficult to tell whether it was a result of her small skirmish or some form of advanced mana deprivation. In the end though, she realised it was because the world was rocking back and forth. She was on a ship.
This should have been obvious enough, I was right by Menethil harbour. . . Obviously, she was still alive. It must have been as the Kel'dorei said, she had been taken as a prisoner of war. A very degrading prisoner as well it seemed. The room she was in was lavishly decorated, with a large soft bed, a dresser and wardrobes and a chest. None of this was accessible to her however.
Instead, Alvarian found herself sat in a small wooden cage. Who the hell do they think I am? She wondered incredulously. With a small shake of her head she touched one of the wooden bars and began to channel magic into her hands.
"Fire Blast." She whispered. What happened however, was clearly not fire, it was actually electricity. And it wasn't on the bars, but her own body. Alvarian's screams followed a moment later, torn from her throat as she writhed and thrashed on the straw beneath her, clawing at her neck. The hot pain came from there and was making it hard to breathe. There was a metal collar there, where the pain originated from. She cut off her mana flow and cried in relief as the pain subsided. Laying in the straw clutching at her knees and whimpering, she considered the situation, no longer feeling confident. She wasn't willing to test the theory anymore, but the collar was perhaps a Gnomish invention, designed to harm her when she used mana. That was the only reason she might have it attached to her after all. Caged and collared. Like a beast.
She was still clothed, at least. Her weapons had been taken from her, as had her bags, but her robes offered her some small dignity. Even where the straw and metal bowl of water did not. They truly saw her as some kind of animal here. In open defiance of those terms she picked up the bowl and hurled it across the room, smiling as the mirror above the dresser erupted into shards of glass. That had felt good. Though had perhaps been a foolish gesture.
"Ror lo cath ei hrefitin!?" A deep voice shouted as the wooden door to the room slammed open. A man dressed in a simple white shirt over grey trousers stalked into the room, a short sword in one hand. He paused as he looked at the carnage across the floor and the metal bowl. His deep blue eyes turn to meet Alvarian's own green orbs and she flinched back from him. Clearly it was the paladin she remembered before she collapsed, a leader of some kind, the priest had claimed. No doubt dangerous, and responsible for her current position. And now he was probably angry as well, and quite armed.
"S-stay away!" She commanded nervously, forcing herself into a kneeling position so she did not appear weak in front of him. Her mind was flashing as she tried to understand the situation. Surely this could not be his room? Why wouldn't they have her in the hold, or if they wanted her watched, a woman's room? Unless this man… had other reasons… Oh sweet lord please no….She knew her kind were attractive, it was undeniable. Never before had she expected this to happen though!!
"Dorn Mart…" The man spoke in a low voice, approaching her cage slowly. Alvarian forced herself to remain kneeling as he crouched down to her level and looked into her eyes. From so close she noticed how chiselled his face was and how the blonde beard had been shaved, though stubble remained. She stared into his blue eyes defiantly this time. She would remain calm, she promised herself. Until he reached his hand in.
Her back slammed into the back slats off the cage as she fell away from him, clutching at some of the bars as her feet peddled, trying to push her further away from him but failing. She knew her face was contorted in terror. Her breaths were coming out in gasps after all, and her heart was pounding. The calloused hand paused, floating less than a foot into her cage. She eyed it warily, as though it were a deadly snake poised to strike.
A sigh seemed to escape him as his face slackened and he drew his arm back, making sure to keep his arms held out widely as he backed away from her cage. Her trembling subsided with each step he took until she sat still, leaning against the back of the cage, her breath returning to normal. He looked away from her for a moment, placing the sword down by the chest, next to a set of armour she had failed to notice in her cursory glance of the room.
What would happen now? She wondered. She didn't know how long a journey it would be from Menethil to Stormwind, if that was indeed their destination. Would she be trapped in here for days watching a man sleep near by. Would he become tired of the long journey and seek enjoyment at her expense? Paladins were not known for their kindness. . . the Blood Knights were secular and cruel individuals.
She let her head drop to her breast as she knelt with her legs beneath her, cupping her hands in her lap. Her nails were pretty dirty, she realised. Possibly from the harsh fall she had taken courtesy of her allies. All in all she was lucky to have survived that . . . Or unlucky, considering her current situation.
"What's going to happen to me?" She asked in her native tongue, hoping he might understand her. At his curious expression she repeated the comment in Orcish. . . again there was no response, she just sighed to herself.
"Luffen." He said with a shrug, and for some reason she thought it seemed like an apology for his lack of understanding. She smiled to herself as she looked back down at the straw below her. Licking her lips, she suddenly realised how dry they were. She needed water. Not that she would give him the pleasure of her asking, considering how her own water was currently staining the floor of the cabin. Instead she laid down in the straw, trying to make herself comfortable despite the terrible thirst. The straw was sharp and itchy on her skin, but it was soft enough. The size of the cage was her main concern, her legs could not stretch out fully, and she didn't want to poke them through the bars in case he approached her. In the end she curled into a small ball and closed her eyes, shivering slightly as a few tears finally ran down her cheeks.
She drifted off fitfully, the rocking of the ship lulling her to sleep.
Her eyes fluttered open to the sounds of two people deep in conversation, For a moment she watched the wall in front of her as she listened to the alien words and phrases. In the end she rolled over, not understanding anything that was being said. With all the things she had learned, perhaps she should have considered common. . . There was a brief laugh followed by the sounds of something striking wood. Alvarian let her eyes readjust to the light before she made any noises. Two men were sat on the floor of the cabin, the man who owned the cabin and another, brown-haired human male. The two of them were apparently sharing a drink together. She licked her lips again. Her thirst had only intensified during her small nap.
The brunette seemed to stiffen suddenly and turn to her, somehow sensing her eyes on him for even a few seconds. After seeing it was her he simply flashed her a smile with his white teeth and took a drink of his tankard, letting it click back down onto the table. Her eyes followed it, wondering what was inside and knowing that whatever it was, she wanted it. Needed it.
"Majis refur odsi?" The brunette asked her, waving his mug at her and gesturing to it. Despite her frayed nerves she looked him in the eyes with longing and nodded slightly. She had to drink something. The man stood and said a few short comments to the blonde paladin, earning a nod in return. Taking another pitcher from a cabinet he poured the liquid into it, Alvarian catching only a brief flash of yellow.
He then placed it on the table, positioned closest to her. Which was still about six metres away from her, past wooden bars. She didn't say anything, refused to, instead she gave him a frosty glare and huffily laid back down again, knowing full well that she would not be able to sleep.
Her body stiffened however when she felt the cage vibrate and heard a long creaking behind her, before footsteps walking away. Cautiously she sat back up. The brunette was back at the table, engaged in a conversation with the blonde, both carefully keeping their eyes away from her own.
The cage door was open.
Alric made sure not to look to his right, not even allow his eyes to glance in the direction. Like many things in life, commanding himself not to do it, made the task all the more difficult.
"Trying not to look eh? Failing?" The man across from him taunted genially as he sipped at his mug. Alric nodded but refrained from saying anything. "I'm curious to see if she will dare to approach us, or if she'll stay in that cage. Aren't you?"
"She's right there, you know." He finally sighed out, letting his eyes close.
"She doesn't speak our language Alric, it's fine to talk about her, in front of her. Why is she in your room?" It was something that must have been asked by many of the people on board the ship, though no one bothered to question Alric. It just wasn't the done thing.
"I don't want her to become ill in the brig, and I'm not sure who else I would trust." He knew that he himself would not harm the prisoner, nor would Cole who sat across from him. Others might not be so forgiving.
"Misha especially." Cole added with a grin, referring to their female Night elf priest. Alric nodded grimly, that woman… girl… she was so fuelled on racial hatreds that it was clouding her ability to think properly. He would need to take her to task on that at some point.
"A shame she is the only one to speak the blood elves language also." That would have been useful to him but he didn't want to deal with her bitterness. Also their prisoner seemed frightened enough already.
"Don't look now." Cole suddenly said, keeping his voice as loud and calm as usual. "Our little Blood elf approaches." The rogue's voice contained a small amount of mirth, and Alric could tell he too was watching the woman out of the corner of his eyes. Alric did so as well.
Though dirty from fighting she was undeniably one of the most beautiful creatures he had ever seen, something he suspected might be a common factor to many of her race. Her skin was peachy and looked incredibly smooth to the touch, as did her silky brown hair, tied into a short ponytail. The hair that draped across her brow was a little mottled from time in the field, but it simply gave a more . . . natural and alluring appeal, personality or maybe vitality. Her glowing green eyes were cautious as she approached them, as were her movements. Obviously she did not trust them, and was attempting to make herself look as non-threatening and subservient as possible, for she remained on her knees as she came forward, crawling a little distance and stopping to look at them. She was acting much like a timid young animal might, cautiously and curiously approaching its first human to smell its hand.
"How many days at sea do we have?" Alric asked, already knowing the answer but making conversation for the girl's sake, giving her confidence that they seemed distracted.
"Two days, which you already know. Think she's good in bed?" Alric spluttered in response, drawing a suddenly worried glance from his captive.
"She is a prisoner, and under my protection. Whether she is or not, will not be your concern." Alric spoke, masking the anger in his voice so not to startle her. Cole laughed softly at his response.
"Oh relax, I won't harm her. If this is what all Blood elves look like though I may have to consider finding some in booty bay!" Alric rolled his eyes at the behaviour, somehow having become used to Cole and his abrasive attitude. He smiled as he noticed a tentative cream hand reaching into his vision, the woman herself leaning forward on her hands and knees to reach for it without coming too close. The pitcher shot back a moment later, the woman sitting on her knees about a metre and a half away from each of them with the drink held in her lap.
"She doesn't seem too keen on sitting with us." He commented to his dark haired friend, looking at his face which held a small smile.
"It's only half-full. She'll have to come back for more if she wants it." He replied, meeting Alric's eyes, who in turn smiled. It must have been something taught to rogues, for Cole was so damn devious. Deciding to try something Alric turned to face her, noticing her freeze with her hand bringing the drink to her lips. Her bright eyes were wide and she watched his every action as if expecting him to strike her.
"Enjoy." He said, nodding to her and holding his drink out a little. Apparently getting the idea Cole did the same, not touching them but making the gesture of knocking them together. Hesitantly, as if unsure of herself, the girl held hers out as well, griping the heavy tankard with two delicate hands. Smiling he took a long drag, one eye open and wanting to see what a Blood elf thought of Southport stout.
Not much apparently. He thought with a smile as she coughed and hacked after taking a rather long drink. Cole couldn't contain himself and let out a loud rumbling laugh, spilling some of his own stout onto the floor. A small blush seemed to take over her face at his reaction, and she must have been thirsty, as she continued to drink heavily at the pitcher. Finishing it in a speed even Alric would not have contemplated. Her face looked a little confused at the drink, and for a moment he wondered what they ate and drank in Silvermoon. If it wasn't for Arthas he could just have easily gone there for a holiday and found out. Perhaps he would have met this woman over some fine drinks, instead of cowering on a bridge as he stared down at her. . .
"Eryas lomure." She spoke suddenly in a quiet but melodious voice. Even the language sounding sensual on her lips, though he didn't understand her words. Cole was prepared apparently though.
"Help yourself darling." He answered, holding up a larger jug of stout and pouring some into his own tankard. He held it towards her for a second before placing it down in the middle of the table. Alric noticed that it was well out of her reach. . .
"Lomure." She repeated, this time with a bit of a pleading tone to her voice. Alric couldn't help it tugging at his heart, despite knowing he should be detached.
"Here." He said tapping the floor between him and Cole and gesturing for her to sit there. He picked up the jug and held it, gesturing that he was ready to pour it for her.
"You realise she is a killer Alric?" Cole suddenly asked him. His smile still in place but his eyes hard.
"Aren't we all Cole?" He replied with a raised eyebrow, he knew that he himself had taken his fair share of life. Not only from the Horde.
"Of course, but you're treating her like a young child. Just saying. She's probably strong enough to blow a hole in this ship. Keep that collar on her." He didn't respond but he knew that anyway. Perhaps he was treating her better than most would, but she hadn't done anything to harm him. What kind of paladin would he be if he sought to kill every person he ran into, just because they wore different colours? He wasn't foolish though, and would not take the collar off.
The woman in question seemed to be gaining some small confidence however, as she shuffled forwards, using her arms to pull herself along. A few seconds later and she was sat within reach of him, her knees together and her legs laying to her left. Her face was looking at the table rather than either of them and he could sense her nervousness. Clearly she expected to be abused or treated badly, but with her unable to harm any of them, or escape, there was really no need for them to imprison her. Her form was too slight and her talents certainly didn't lay in fist fighting. She was harmless.
"Lumore?" He asked, imitating the word she had last said to him, and hoping it meant something. She looked up a little bemused and he guessed he had said something that didn't make sense, but she apparently understood his gestures.
"Lumore." She said again, holding her tankard out and letting a small smile appear on her lips when he poured it for her. "A'shala. . . Omor." She replied after he had finished.
"Please and thank you, perhaps?" Cole offered with some interest on his face. Alric accepted that this was probably correct, while realising why his repetition of the word had apparently made no sense to her. Would he have to learn her language to converse with her? He shook his head, no that wouldn't be necessary. He would be turning her over to people who could already speak her language and they would find out all that they could.
Further thoughts were interrupted however by a large shaking hitting the ship, the vibrations knocking the girl to the floor, while causing Alric to stumble back himself, their drinks spilling across the floor. That was no simple wave! Alric thought to himself as he leapt to his feet and rushed from the room.
Alvarian felt her eyes widen as the ship began shaking. The two men leaping to their feet with a speed that shocked her. The brown haired human ran to the door quickly opening it and the other ran out with him, sparing her a glance and saying something, motioning with his hand for her to stay still. The door slammed shut before creaking open again, the footsteps diminishing into the distance. Not that she would consider fleeing. Where would she even go on a ship full of enemies when she could not use her abilities? She could be a hundred miles from sure.
"Enjoying yourself Sister?"" A voice whispered to her, making her gasp in shock.
"Saerin?" She hissed quietly, praying it was so. She could not see nor sense anyone in the room but then, that was his speciality. "Saerin, please let it be you."
"You expected Grarthor perhaps?" The voice repeated with a small chuckle. The mention of his name made her tense, though she was still ecstatic to hear her friend's voice. "You should never expect Grarthor again. No one will." He sounded angry as he said it, and she had no doubt that the Orc had suffered.
"Thank you my friend. You're not safe here though." There were so many foes on this ship that would not hesitate to kill him. . . How could he even consider this foolishness.
"Safer than you my dear." He replied, making her sigh. "I'll be watching over you as best I can Alvarian. Do try to stay close to the blonde human. He seems familiar to me, though I know not why. I believe he would ensure you are not harmed." The admission surprised her and judging from the troubled expression on his own face, it was confusing for him as well.
"A memory from your life perhaps?" She asked, knowing how the forsaken lost many of their memories when they gained their second life. Many remembered names and small snippets, though the emotions behind them were considered lost for eternity. . .
"Perhaps." He repeated non-committally. "Just do as I suggest here."
"I will my friend. I trust you with my life." She whispered back, feeling her confidence seeping back into her to know she had such a loyal friend nearby. "I don't know how I can convince him to protect me however, I cannot even understand him."
"Continue as you are now Alvarian, and don't do anything to anger him. They're returning. Goodbye for now my sister." She didn't hear anything to indicate he had departed, nor saw anything. But somehow the air becoming a little colder let her know she was alone.
"Shadow hide you Saerin, and may it keep you safe."
So here is the first chapter, I have the second pretty much written, simply reading it through for mistakes and such. Still, I hope you will review this if you read it and enjoyed it, it would certainly make my day.
-Cavalyn.