It was a rather grim day, dark clouds hiding the usually so beautiful sky of Quel'Thalas, when two elves were sent to obtain a certain hammer from an Amani-settlement in the west. A cold wind was brazing through the forest, shaking the tree branches and ripping some feeble leaves with him.
Eih'lie gripped his cloak a bit tighter, trying to draw his head in like a turtle to expose as little as possible of his skin to the bitter cold. Winter was coming, for sure, and he was less than appropriately dressed for the season. Though snowfall was a rarity, the winters usually brought a dry and bitter cold with them and he had sold what little he had back home to have enough money to get him through his journey.
He shouldn't have been surprised when, the moment he set foot onto the ruins of Silvermoon, he was robbed and escaped with nothing more than his life and what was still on his body. Which was an old linen robe, a pair of worn-through shoes and a small bag that used to contain his hearthstone (he didn't remember where he lost that thing - one day it was just... gone), three copper and a half-eaten peacebloom-lynxmeat-sandwich.
He'd cleaned up nicely since then he had thought, but the slow changing of seasons proved him wrong. He would have to work harder in the future so he could afford some warm clothes (and maybe even some woollen underpants, he was freezing down there).
He wondered how the woman before him did it. He was feeling more like her pet (or her pet's pet, since he was actually hurrying not only behind her fast strides but those of her turtle - how did that thing move so fast anyway? - as well). She didn't seem bothered by the wind the least, her head held high, dark brown hair and cloak fluttering carelessly in the wind. Then, again, she could afford leather-cloves and firm shoes. And her pants as well as her tunic seemed to be thick enough to isolate her from the cold.
"Hurry up a bit, will you?"
He nodded and sped up. They had been walking for hours now and soon it would be dark. According to the map Tor'Watha was still a day's foot march away - if they used the night as well.
He was tired but he didn't dare ask for a break, obediently hurrying after the huntress. He stopped feeling his feet about three hours ago, but all his airways felt as if they were filled with needles.
After three more hours of endless marching and stumbling over roots, bushes and branches, darkness finally engulfed him.
When he woke up the following morning, sore and stiff, he sat under a huge tree, his head bedded on a sleeping turtle's shell.
The huntress was lying on the other side of the turtle, snoring peacefully.
He smelled burning and lynx-stew nearby and once he had rubbed the sand out of his eyes and looked up he spotted a small fire with a pot hanging from a small construction above it. Some meters away a Hawkstrider munched on a Roseberry-bush.
He almost missed the frail woman who knelt before a shrub of Bloodthistle, collecting the herb and occasionally stuffing one or two leaves into her mouth.
"It's impolite to stare, priest."
The huntress sounded amused, her voice less sharp than the previous day.
He averted his eyes quickly, watching the fire instead. He remembered passing out and knew it was his fault that they had to stop. He didn't dare ask how they had come to meet the woman gathering herbs in front of them.
"You should have said something, you know" She continued, moving to the pot and sniffing the stew. "I was considering having a break, but I thought, as long as you don't complain…"
"I'm sorry"
"Don't be. But I was worried" She pointed to the blond woman who was too absorbed by her Bloodthistle-gathering to notice them. "It's a good thing I met Miss Sunspring there. We packed you on her hawkstrider and went on 'till we found a safe place to rest."
Said Miss Sunspring had finished gathering her herbs and checked the stew now. She added some Peacebloom to it (he'd recognize the smell anywhere) and tasted it until she found it satisfying.
Then she finally turned to him.
"I see you are awake. I'm Sylvanas Sunspring. But I prefer Sunspring."
She smiled but couldn't hide the pain from her face. He understood – Sylvanas was an unlucky name to have these days.
He ate in silence listening to the women's chatting. It was small talk, really. Miss Sunspring roamed the woods to gather herbs that she would sell in Silvermoon and the huntress, whose name he still didn't know, talked about their quest. It was then that she realized that she didn't know his name, either.
"I simply searched for somebody who could heal, and I kind of… slipped introducing myself to you, I think." She said between spoonfuls. "My name's Anelora Goldenarrow. And this" she pointed to the still sleeping turtle "Is my friend Kolash"
She looked at him, waiting for his own introduction.
"I… I'm Eih'lie" he stuttered.
"Just Eih'lie?", Anelora asked, raising a long eyebrow.
Again he looked to the ground. "Yes. Just Eih'lie"
A few sunrays had fought their way through the thick wall of clouds by the time they bid Miss Sunspring farewell and moved on.
"We got quite far with you on that hawkstrider", Anelora said.
"I think we'll be kicking troll-arse by dusk"
Eih'lie sighed quietly at the prospect of spending the whole day marching, again. But he wouldn't complain. When he'd been out cold yesterday, Anelora had carried him till she met Miss Sunspring. He owed it to the huntress not to complain.
So they marched, silently and swiftly, hour after hour. Sometime around noon Anelora finally granted them a break. But it was short-lived, and soon they found themselves marching again.
It took them half an eternity (at least in Eih'lie's mind it did), until Anelora announced the next break.
"We're now near Tor'Watha. We'll rest and eat a little, regain our strength. But keep your eyes open for troll-patrols."
They shared some springwater (that wasn't that fresh anymore, but better than nothing) and some tough jerky and stretched their legs in a lazy manner. Kolash was treated some small fish that he greedily devoured.
"So, you know the drill. Kolash here will try to keep those dim-witted trolls' attention on him, while I shoot the hell out of them. You keep healing him, and when it comes to it, me. Keep a safe distance to us, so they don't spot you. We'll kill what we find of them, no mercy and quickly. We don't want the whole village up our asses."
He didn't know the drill, but he nodded anyways. He seriously hoped he would not fail here. He had never done healing in an on-going battle and he had never seen a troll before. But he couldn't tell her this. Not when she had asked him to accompany her (more like "You, healer, come! I need you for some mission"), not now. She had been so eager and he had only realized that she needed a battle-healer when they had already been deep in the woods. And then he had been too ashamed to admit his failure at communication.
Well, he couldn't change what happened. He took a deep breath, drew his hand through his dark red hair and sighed.
The village itself didn't seem all that impressive. There were some stone carvings and many wooden huts. Huge, green Trolls – just as frightening in appearance as he'd been told they were – were around, though he couldn't spot any females (or maybe he didn't recognize them).
The village itself didn't seem too busy from what he could see from his spot on a huge pine trees Anelora had lifted him on. Anelora was sitting on one herself, just near enough for him to heal her. Brave Kolash was down on the earth, waiting in the bushes for his master's signal.
There were numerous trolls present. One, with an iron hammer dangling from his belt (that must be that Otombe Anelora had told him about), was lazily sitting in front of a hut, chatting with another troll. There were tree troll-guards hanging around, and two more huts in hearing distance. Behind a fire he could see what could be another troll, but he wasn't sure.
Anelora had told him to wait, and so he waited. But it took so long and his behind was starting to hurt (and he could swear that that spider was looking at him).
It was dark now and he had almost fallen asleep watching those trolls come and go, one looking just like the next one, when he finally heard Kolash's cry. The turtle had bitten into a guard's leg who in turn was trying to shake the animal off.
Another guard shouted something to which the attacked one replied in a rather amused tone, poking the animal with his axe.
As if she had only waited for this, Anelora fired the first shot, hitting the troll right in the head – he hit the ground without any other sound than a soft thud.
He couldn't see whether the turtle was hurt or not, so he casted a small quick-mending spell, just to be sure. He finally understood the woman's plan when another guard approached. Seeing Kolash above his fallen comrade, he stormed the animal, only to be shot down by three arrows.
Anelora now left the tree, but signalled him to wait. She crept forward slowly, bow on her back, until she was behind a third guard that was urinating against his tree, Eih'lie noticed in shock (and shame, because he should have seen him). It took her five strikes with her axe until his head landed in his own piss. He had screamed, but due to him leaving his post to do his business Eih'lie doubted anyone had heard him in the village itself.
Now she gave him the signal. He climbed down, as quickly as he could, carefully avoiding the wet area on the lower end of the trunk and the still bleeding body as he rushed to the other bloodelf. She sent Kolash forward, attacking Otombe, who sat with two other trolls by the fire.
Eih'lie, startled by the now clearly offensive strategy, nearly forgot to heal the turtle, had it not been for Anelora's angry cry as her arrow missed the target. He prayed for a shield to guard the already damaged shell of the animal as one of the trolls grabbed its struggling form and threw it on its back.
Something about her pet's helplessness must have set something off in Anelora who now fired arrows at a higher rate, not caring for the perfect shot anymore. Three hit one of the trolls in the shoulder, making him cry out loud.
Now they knew it wasn't just a lost turtle attacking them. They scattered, shouting to each other in their foreign language, ducking. One tried to run off towards the other village in a zig-zag pattern, but Anelora reacted quickly, running after him, splitting his head in two with his her axe. But it got stuck in the thick bone, and while she tried drawing it out, the other troll was already on her, pressing her to the ground.
Kolash wriggled furiously, trying to get back on his paws so he could help his master, and when he cried out in some sort of shared pain as the troll rammed her face into the hard earth, Eih'lie was finally ripped out of his trance. He ran to the turtle quickly, pressing against its side with his whole weight until it finally landed on his feed and jumped the troll attacking Anelora.
Eih'lie was about to pray for a shield protecting the huntress from further attacks when suddenly his arm was grabbed and he was thrown towards the fire. Otombe stood before him, hammer in his hand. He tried backing away, but the flames made that impossible. Otombe raised the hammer, about to bring it down – Eih'lie was hoping for nothing but for a quick death at this moment – not like the troll at his tree - when the green beast suddenly stopped and stumbled forward, burying Eih'lie under his massive body, his face falling into the flames. An huge axe made of stone, feather's tied to the shaft, stuck in his neck, severing his spinal cord. Behind him Anelora stood; face red, bloodied and full of dust from the beating she received, panting heavy. The troll that attacked her was lying on the ground, his back and neck bitten open and his spine showing a strange formation. When he saw Kolash's head, full of blood and grime, he understood.
Anelora spared him no glance when she pried the hammer out of Otombe's dead hands, but it was obvious that she was disappointed and angry because of his failure. He fought the urge to just run away and hide as he started to recite the first healing spells meant to take away her pain.
She looted the bodies wordlessly as he explained (always looking everywhere but in her direction – he was sure he would die should their eyes meet) that they would need to wash the dirtied wounds lest they'd get infected before he could mend them. It was then when he noticed a wooden cage not far behind the flames, with a dark figure in it.
"Come closer, mon", a weak voice spoke in accented Orcish.
"Look there!", he whispered to the woman that was still deciding what of the bodies to take. "They have a prisoner!"
Now Anelora raised her head, studying the cage from afar but giving up quickly. She lighted a small torch on the fire as walked up to it, checking her surroundings while doing so.
"It's just another troll…", she said, turning back to them as a three-fingered, blue hand grabbed her ankle.
"Don't be afraid. Ven'jashi not gonna hurt you"
But Anelora ignored him, pulling her leg free of his weak grip with ease and went back, fastening a new axe she had looted from a troll on her belt.
Eih'lie still couldn't take his eyes away from the prisoner. He moved a little closer to him, picking up the torch Anelora had carelessly thrown on the ground and held it close to the cage so he could study the troll, trying to ignore the foul stench that emitted from the it.
He was different from the trolls he had seen so far. His skin was blue (though there was a lot of red, too, wounds that were infected, some of them full of pus, hematomas of darker color and lots of brown, dried blood). He was almost naked, only scraps of clothing hanging on his too thin shaking frame. There was dry vomit on the trolls face and ground (probably the shoulder he was lying on, too) and on the other end he didn't look any better. The liquid black and red stool was fresh enough to reflect the light that shone on him, sticking to the troll's lower body and legs that just didn't have enough place anywhere else even if the troll had had the strength to move them out of his faeces.
Eih'lie guessed that it was only because of the bitter cold that he wasn't full of maggots by this time.
The troll, his hand still hanging limply where he had slipped it through the wooden bars, seemed to muster all his strength to look at him and speak further. Eih'lie noticed that the tusks were missing and two huge, swollen haematomas were there where they should have been. His teeth were mostly broken or missing, too (though he wasn't sure of that – he hadn't had the chance to study trolls that thoroughly to tell how their teeth looked normally).
"Us Darkspear be mortal enemies of the Amani just like you. Their boss Zul'Marosh is evil troll. He give me the bad poison and leave me in this cage to die."
There they had it, a Darkspear. An alley.
They had to help him out of here. But they had no key, and if he was poisoned… they would have to get hold of this Zul'Marosh and find out what poison he gave him to find an antidode, and who knew how long that would take and how long the troll in front of him still had.
"Don't speak further, troll, you'll need your strength. We will get you out of here and take you to…"
But the troll paid no attention to his words and went on: "I not scared of dyin', mon. I seen death in the eye an' I laugh at her.
I cannot die in peace yet, mon. Not 'til Zul'Marosh be dead too. You find him 'cross the lake in Zeb'Watha. I hold this poison off 'til you bring me his big ugly head, mon. Only then I die peacefully."
"You don't have to die.", Eih'lie said reassuringly. "Nothing's too late. We'll get you out of this cage and find an antidode."
"Like hell we will"
Eih'lie turned around, startled to find Anelora standing there.
"Soon this patrol guy will show up again. Didn't you pay attention? He comes here every hour, and if I'm not wrong there'll be all hell breaking loose sooner than you can even begin to think of failing in healing us again"
"He's an ally" His voice was firm (well, at least as firm as his voice could be). "We have to help him, or he will DIE."
"He's a troll. I'm not risking my head for one of these uncivilized beasts. If you have a death wish, then stay. I'm off."
He expected her to stay just a little. To think it over, to give him a chance, to … well, to do anything, but she simply turned around and vanished into the surrounding wood.
He was on his own with a friendly troll near death next to him – he would not – could not leave him there – it was just so wrong – and a whole lot of not so friendly trolls to come crashing in on him soon. He was close to panicking at that point, but a glance at the troll in the cage wouldn't have it that way. This was a patient, he told himself. He was responsible for his wellbeing, and for his wellbeing he needed to get him out of this cage NOW.
The lock was unbreakable, but the cage itself was out of wood, so he could try to… His eyes searched the place for anything that might do the deed, and landed on a half-finished spear that was lying on the anvil. He grabbed it quickly, and after some time adjusting to its weight he managed to crash it down on the cage. It took several strikes until it was damaged enough for the lock to fall off and the door to open.
He bowed down and tried pulling the troll out carefully. "Even emaciated they weight a lot" he muttered under heavy pants as he finally got the limp form out of there.
"It be no use. You be wasting ya live savin mine, mon", the troll hissed. "You betta go ta safety. Someone like you…" his voice broke and he coughed a few times. "… it be better if you live."
"Ssssh" Eih'lie worked on fastening his cloak on the shivering form. "We'll both live. Save your strength."
"I just want the head, but not from you, mon. Go to tha woman and tell her I have a bow. It be a good bow and I buried it. She be havin it when I be havin the head. Tell her, she will come."
"Forget the head", Eih'lie hissed in annoyance. "This is about your life. And don't give me that not-fearing-death-crap, I'm not buying any of it."
But before he could end the sentence, the troll had closed his eyes.
It didn't take long for Eih'lie to figure out that compared to lifting the troll's dead weight on his back pulling him out of that cage was a piece of cake. Eventually, sweating and certain his knees would give in any minute, he managed. He tied the cloaks ends together in front of him, positioning the trolls legs so he could bind them to Eih'lie's own belly with a piece of linen he had looted from a fallen troll. Then he pulled the trolls arms over his shoulders, holding them tight. That would do.
Eih'lie was almost satisfied with himself. Then he heard something.
"Damn", he thought "I forgot about that…" he didn't come to finish the thought when he heard a short scream of surprise and saw the patrol running towards the village.