Northern Stranglethorn was decidedly foreign to a girl who had been born and raised in the Elwynn Forest. The oppressive humidity clung to Caraiya's skin like the touch of a lover. The heady scent of hibiscus and orchids and all manner of fantastic flora hung heavy in the air. Caraiya was not often plagued with homesickness, but this strange place might as well be on Kalimdor for how unfamiliar it felt. She missed sparrow song and the whuffing of horses. She missed the steady tread of booted feet as Stormwind's soldiers marched past. She missed sneaking into the vineyards with Natilee and gorging themselves on grapes until Milly Osworth chased them out, brandishing her blunderbuss. Northshire Abbey seemed farther away than ever.
Mr. Nesingwary, Jr. had extended his hospitality to the young paladin, and for that she was grateful. However, Krazek's crocolisk stew was quickly becoming less and less appetizing as the weeks wore on. Just after dawn, Caraiya was forcing down a few mouthfuls of porridge when Ajeck Rouack dropped into the seat beside her and set her gun on the table with a clatter.
"Good morning," Caraiya said, glancing at the other woman from the corner of her eye. "Sleep well?"
Ajeck rubbed her forehead. "When you've been in this hole as long as I have, you'll stop asking me that."
Caraiya grinned. "You know I don't plan on staying."
"Neither did I, kid." It was one of Ajeck's quirks, calling everyone 'kid' – as though she were an old soul. Caraiya guessed them to be about the same age, give or take a few years.
Caraiya scraped the last of the porridge from her bowl and pulled a face. "What will it be today? More housework? Or have I earned the right to hunt tigers?"
"They've been encroaching on the camp again," Ajeck said. "Tiger-hunting it is."
"I'll meet you by the entrance in half an hour," Caraiya said. She put on her mail armor in the confines of her makeshift tent. Since leaving Northshire, she had kept precious few personal effects; it was simply too impractical for a life on the road. Items that outlived their usefulness were discarded or sold. But her two most prized possessions were laid carefully by her flat, lumpy pillow: her claymore, forged for her at the expense and behest of King Varian Wrynn, was wrapped in royal blue and gold cloth – a tabard, emblazoned with the heraldry of Stormwind.
She had dreamed of wearing Stormwind's colors since she was a little girl, a two-bit noble orphaned at ten and shuttled off to Northshire Abbey for training. Months ago, she had unwittingly volunteered to help a backwoods detective catch a murderer, and it had turned out to be the work of a diabolical organization called the Defias Brotherhood. Caraiya had fled Sentinel Hill on the back of a griffon as the fort went up in flames, under orders to inform the king of the Brotherhood's uprising. She had returned after the battle to find many of the men she had fought shoulder to shoulder with dead. Thankfully, Marshal Stoutmantle had survived and commended her on her timely actions. Without her, Sentinel Hill might well have been a massacre.
She wore proof of her worth over her armor now, and carried it on her back wherever she went.
When Caraiya approached the wooden gate that marked the entrance to Nesingwary's expedition, she found Ajeck, her leather armor sleek and oiled, blunderbuss in hand, and Sir S.J. Erlgadin, his plate armor looking rather battered and jungle-worn.
"S.J.'s coming with us," Ajeck said shortly.
Caraiya nodded, and fell into step beside the tall warrior as Ajeck led the way into the jungle. "I know you," she said. "I wasn't sure at first, but now I remember. Your name. Your family is from Stormwind, aren't they?"
S.J. made a noise low in his throat. "Yes. What of it?"
"My family was nobility as well," Caraiya said. "But my parents died when I was young, and I went to Northshire Abbey. I guess I'm the only one left."
S.J.'s expression turned even sourer. "What's your surname?"
"Strathmore," Caraiya said.
"I never could keep the noble families straight," S.J. said with a sneer.
"Why did you leave?"
"I came here to escape Stormwind and its damn politics," he snapped. "I'll thank you not to remind me of it."
It was clear the conversation was over. Caraiya jogged ahead to walk with Ajeck.
"He's touchy about his past," Ajeck whispered. "Ever since he came to us he's been trying to prove he's more than just a name in Stormwind's archives." She shrugged. "Look sharp."
At first, Caraiya saw nothing but verdant foliage and brightly-colored flowers. Then she saw it: a round, golden eye peering out from amidst the brush. The tiger was no more than ten feet from them.
"Steady," Ajeck whispered. She brought the blunderbuss up to her cheek, closed one eye and stared down the barrel. She squeezed the trigger.
The shot rang out, echoing in the river canyon behind them. Caraiya and S.J. drew their blades as the tiger sprang from the brush, bounding towards Ajeck, all fluid power sheathed in brilliant orange and black. Several hundred pounds of feline muscle bowled over the blonde hunter, momentum carrying the tiger several yards away. As Ajeck got back up, S.J. and Caraiya charged, swords twirling as if they had choreographed their movements.
The tiger frustrated the warriors with its agility, dodging many of their attacks, catching only glancing blows. Streaks of red stained its coat. S.J. engaged the tiger, parrying swipes of its great paws with his blade. Ajeck hung back, unable to find a clear shot, while Caraiya circled around behind, avoiding the big cat's lashing tail, and with all the strength she could muster, drove her blade down through the tiger's skull, pinning its head to the ground.
"Nice," Ajeck said.
Caraiya grinned and tossed her auburn bangs out of her eyes. "Thanks." She put a booted foot on the dead tiger's nose and yanked her sword out. S.J. had already stepped away and begun cleaning his weapon with a rag.
Ajeck crouched over the body and pulled a small, curved dagger. She glanced up at the other woman. "Ready to learn how to skin a cat?"
Caraiya watched carefully as Ajeck's deft hands made incisions in the tiger's pelt, peeling it back until all that remained was a skinned carcass. The pelt, though stained with blood, was a marvelous thing to behold as Ajeck held it up. She carefully laid it fur-side down and began treating the raw skin with a potion from her pack, scraping off excess gore with the skinning knife. When she had finished, the hunter rolled up the pelt, tied it off with twine, and stuffed it in her pack.
"Got all that?" Ajeck asked.
Caraiya gulped. "Maybe."
"Next one's on you, kid," Ajeck said, and as S.J. rejoined them they set off once more.
The second tiger was a youngling, easier to kill but harder to skin. Ajeck watched patiently as Caraiya clumsily hacked at the pelt. She could swing a broadsword with matchless grace, but her dexterity with a skinning knife left much to be desired. Still, Ajeck corrected her quietly and without condescension, and for that Caraiya was grateful. Soon she had her very own tiger pelt rolled up in her pack.
Four skinned tigers later, the midday sun had begun to beat down on them in earnest. Caraiya had found that most of the expedition tended to retreat into their tents for the hottest part of the day in the interests of self-preservation. The sun was merciless here, though the canopy of foliage provided a modicum of shade. They headed back to the encampment, covered in tiger gore, their own blood, sweat, and streaks of reddish dirt.
Caraiya left her mail in a heap inside her tent and ventured out in her sweat-soaked linen tunic and breeches, clutching a towel and fresh clothes as she picked her way down the rocky coast to the Stranglethorn River. The water sparkled green in the mottled sunlight, lapping softly against the sandy beach. Caraiya stripped off her soiled clothing and waded into the river, the sand between her toes giving slightly under her weight. She sighed and floated on her back, relishing the coolness of the water on her heated skin. The sound of raised voices reached Caraiya's ears, even submerged, and she reluctantly returned to a crouching position, bringing her head out of the water.
"Remember what she means to you! Give it some thought, Sam!" Ajeck's commanding voice cut through the jungle.
"I have given thought to it, Ajeck," S.J. said crossly, "and I will not return. Not now. Not ever."
"As your friend –"
"Is that what we are?" he asked sharply. Caraiya's stomach clenched. She had never been in love, but she certainly knew the pangs of thwarted desire. Sir Erlgadin's voice held the sorrow of a man who held something close to his heart but could never truly have it.
Caraiya submerged all of herself but her eyes and the top of her head, watching as the bickering pair came over the last rocky outcropping before the beach. Careful not to splash, Caraiya awkwardly paddled a few feet away to hide herself behind a half-submerged boulder. If luck was with her, she would be able to gather her clothes and sneak away through the foliage where the river bent around.
"Sam, please –"
"We are being watched," he interrupted, and Caraiya stilled as both Ajeck and S.J. looked around, knives out. Caraiya cringed. Between the embarassment of being caught naked or being caught eavesdropping, she would take the latter.
"It's me," she called. "I was just washing up. I'll just, er, go now. I'll see you back at camp."
"Come on," she heard Ajeck say. "Let's give her some privacy." Their footsteps retreated. Caraiya hastily pulled on her clothes and climbed back up the hill.
The night sky in Northern Stranglethorn was truly exquisite, for what it was worth. Caraiya had grown up far too close to Stormwind, and the lights of the city gave too little contrast for a young orphan to see the stars. At dusk, the bustle of Mr. Nesingwary's encampment was winding down. Jaquilina, the dark beauty who provided axes and weapon repair for the expedition, was making her nightly rounds of the camp, lighting lanterns.
Caraiya sat down alone with her juicy tiger steak and chopped tropical fruit salad. It seemed both Ajeck and S.J. were absent from dinner. The paladin hoped it wasn't on her account. It seemed Krazek was branching out; the steak was fresh and tender from that day's hunt and cooked to perfection. Caraiya groaned appreciatively. "Hey, Krazek!"
"Eh?" The goblin twisted around at her shout.
She jabbed her fork at her steak. "Good eats!"
Krazek beamed. "Thank you!"
Caraiya smiled. It had been a good day, despite the incident down by the water. She almost felt like one of them. Even as she thought about it, S.J. emerged from his tent. He gave Caraiya a brief glare as he stalked past her without a word, collected his steak, and disappeared again into his tent. Her fruit salad went sour on her tongue; she swallowed it past the lump in her throat.
After the evening meal, most everyone retired to their tents, save for a few of the renegade orcs the dwarf had hired on as expedition guards. They didn't talk much to the members of the expedition; they mostly muttered amongst themselves in Orcish. Caraiya briefly wondered how they had ended up here, as far from Durotar as they could get, acting as hired muscle for a primarily Alliance-based operation. Goblins struck her as loose cannons, but orcs? Caraiya had grown up fearing them and their blind dedication to the Horde. Orcs had destroyed much of Northshire Abbey and the surrounding countryside just before her departure, and they still made her uneasy.
Caraiya had volunteered to wash dishes while she stayed with the Nesingwary expedition as a way to earn her keep. She had had plenty of practice growing up in Northshire Abbey. Now that night had truly fallen, the young paladin was left alone with Krazek. She was content to work in relative silence, listening to the distant shrieks of parrots and vale howlers, the gentle slop of the soapy water against the basin, and the goblin's tuneless humming.
"So what's your story, Krazek?" Caraiya asked.
The goblin chuckled. "Don't have one. I was a tinkerer in Booty Bay, once. Secretary to Baron Revilgaz. Came up here to stick my big green nose in things and just . . . never left."
How curious, Caraiya thought. That's just how Ajeck described it. "How long has it been?"
"Six months? A year? After the Cataclysm, o' course." Krazek shrugged. "Don' matter." He dried his grungy fingers on a dishtowel and expertly flipped it over his shoulder. He was right at home here, making stews for tired, disheveled adventurers and hunters.
"Nesingwary Junior saved my sorry, wrinkled skin, you know," he said. "My first month here. Some big cat came roaring in outta nowhere. The old dwarf whipped out his pistol and shot the beast, straight 'tween the eyes."
"Is that why you stayed?"
"Nah," Krazek said with a toothy grin. "If I left? This outfit would starve in a week. I couldn't do that to 'em. Not on my head." He shook his own for emphasis.
Caraiya laughed in spite of herself. "You belong here, Krazek."
"Yes indeedy." The cook gave a deep, mocking bow and his dishtowel fell off. Caraiya dissolved into a fit of giggles and the goblin joined her, his once-terrifying cackle now its own strange music to her ears.
"Ahem." Caraiya and Krazek looked up, the former wiping tears from her eyes. Ajeck stood under the canopy of the kitchen tent, silhouetted by moonlight. "Am I interrupting?"
"No, not at all," Caraiya said lightly. "Shall we?"
The two women left Krazek's kitchen in favor of Ajeck's tent.
"I wanted to apologize for earlier, kid," the blonde said, a bit gruffly. "Sam – I mean, S.J. and I didn't mean to interrupt your bath."
Caraiya waved her hand dismissively. "Forget it. I'm sorry about – what I heard –"
Ajeck let out her breath in a hiss. "Foolish man!" she burst out. Caraiya looked up in surprise; Ajeck sounded close to tears, and indeed, her eyes were brimming with them.
"Ajeck, what –"
"Two years I've been in love with that stubborn man!" Ajeck said, hot, salty tears spilling in earnest. "Just a stupid, besotted fool for him. And I only want what's best for him – even if that means I have to – to let him go. But he won't."
"Ajeck," Cariaya said quietly, placing a soothing hand over her friend's clenched fist. "Tell me what you argued about."
"He needs to return to Stormwind," Ajeck whispered. "Sam is the eldest son. His mother – his mother is dying, Caraiya. And I know – I know he should go back. I need to let him go back. But I can't lose him; I just can't." A fresh wave of tears hit her.
"Why don't you go with him?" Caraiya said gently.
Ajeck looked away. "I made a vow to my father, and I cannot break it. Not even for Sam. Nor would he want me to."
"What was your vow?"
Ajeck's voice regained some of its old fire. "To slay the beast known as Sin'Dall, the elusive tiger who is responsible for the death of my mother."
"Ajeck, you are a skilled huntress," Caraiya said. "What are you waiting for?"
"The first rule a hunter learns is to never underestimate the quarry," Ajeck said fiercely, swiping a hand across her face to rub away the tear tracks on her cheeks. "My father taught me that. He forgot that rule. Only once. But once is all it takes." She set her jaw, a savage gleam in her eye that Caraiya had never seen in the short months she had known Ajeck. "We leave at dawn, kid. Be ready for anything."
"Tell S.J. –" Caraiya said.
"I'm doing this for him," Ajeck growled. "He will know that going into it, I assure you."
The next morning dawned with a stifling heat, even thicker than the day before. Caraiya felt as though a wet blanket were being perpetually pressed over her face. They took their rations from the crates in Krazek's makeshift pantry; dried fruit and strips of jerky would get them through their mission. They planned to follow the riverbank to Sin'Dall's lair, giving them easy access to fresh water.
S.J. led the way, his hand resting easily on the hilt of his greatsword, his mouth set in a grim line below his sienna mustache. The hard lines around his eyes seemed softened somewhat in the pre-dawn haze. Ajeck followed with her blunderbuss held at the waist, years of discipline preparing her to bring the firearm up at the slightest provocation. Caraiya brought up the rear, practicing the prowl she had learned from Ajeck. Toe-to-heel, toe-to-heel. Even wearing her chainmail, the training paid off; she made far less noise than usual.
Despite their efforts at stealth, the truth was that S.J. and Caraiya were not trained for stalking like Ajeck was, and they ended up battling their fair share of crocolisks as they made their way through the river valley. The sun had risen in earnest, scattering its reflection over the water like broken sea glass. They found themselves a mere stone's throw from Sin'Dall's lair when Caraiya called for a break.
"Stop," she said. "Let's rest a minute."
Ajeck lips pursed in silent mutiny, but S.J. readily sat down on a boulder embedded in the sand, his armor creaking. Caraiya sank to her knees on the bank and splashed water over her face and neck with abandon. Of one thing she was certain: when she finally left Stranglethorn, it would be in favor of cooler climes.
Ajeck spoke from behind her. "If I don't come back –"
"Don't be ridiculous," S.J. snapped. "As if either of us would let you face that beast alone."
Ajeck said nothing.
"He's right," Caraiya said, turning away from the water. She strode boldly up to the other woman and placed both of her hands upon Ajeck's shoulders. Something like fear swam behind the depths of her eyes, the same unfathomable blue-green as the stream. "We're all in this together."
"Thank you," Ajeck said finally, relief evident in the way her shoulders relaxed. She'd been tense all morning.
"Let's go." S.J. got to his feet.
They crept through thick jungle brush, heading further inland where Sin'Dall's lair was rumored to be. They knew immediately they were in the right place; Sin'Dall had marked every bush, tree, and boulder with her pungent scent. Caraiya was almost afraid to blink, keeping her eyes and ears alert for any sign of the great cat: a flash of orange, the whisper of a shadow slinking through the ferns, a low breathy growl just before the pounce. She could hear the spongy ground sinking beneath the weight of her companions on either side, and took comfort from their presence.
Then Ajeck screamed. S.J. bellowed her name and waded through the brush towards where she had fallen, his sword in hand. With a jolt, Caraiya realized she had drawn her weapon as well. Everything was happening so quickly. The paladin's heart pounded a frantic tattoo against her windpipe. She scanned the clearing just ahead. There! The end of an orange-and-black tail whipped out of sight. Caraiya plunged after it, crashing through the undergrowth.
"Caraiya!" S.J. called after her, but she either didn't hear him or didn't heed him. "Damn her!"
S.J. was a warrior through and through, and as such he had no talent for healing. The paladin had left them behind. Ajeck's armor was tattered and slicked with blood where the jerkin met the hardened leather spaulder. Her upper arm had been shredded as Sin'Dall bowled her over, and it was only her sound reflexes that prevented the cat from taking her face off. As it was, however, Ajeck's left arm, which supported her weapon, would be useless in this fight.
"Leave me," the blonde woman said weakly, waving him off with her right hand.
"Never," S.J. said firmly. "You're coming with me to Stormwind, if I have to drag you there myself."
Coming from S.J. it was a declaration of his love for her. Ajeck was a loss for words. She didn't even protest as S.J. sheathed his sword, picked up Ajeck's gun in one hand, and swung her uninjured arm over his neck, supporting her waist. Slowly but surely, he escorted her toward the commotion he could hear down by the river.
Sure enough, Caraiya had forced a conflict by the river's edge, and the claymore she carried was more than a ceremonial sword. She parried the tiger's claws with ease, dancing around on the balls of her feet. Her constant motion kept the animal alert and frustrated. S.J. quickly propped the injured hunter up against a rock and laid her gun in her lap. "Stay here," he hissed, and ran to aid the paladin.
Caraiya had known a few hunters in her travels, and they had always been quick to remind her that a frightened animal, when cornered, was worth ten of its kind otherwise. Never had she seen greater proof of this than with Sin'Dall. As soon as S.J. joined the fight, Sin'Dall let loose a fury like nothing Caraiya had ever seen. This was no ordinary tiger.
Caraiya stepped away as S.J. engaged the beast, raising her hand to the heavens and calling upon the Light. S.J. jumped back as an ethereal hammer dropped from the heavens, whistling through the air as it fell on the tiger. Stunned, Sin'Dall swayed. S.J. hesitated. Before any of them could react, the blast of a blunderbuss ripped through the air. Crimson bloomed in the center of Sin'Dall's chest, staining her once-white blaze red. Her golden eyes clouded with pain. The tiger fell with neither grace nor glory.
S.J. and Caraiya looked over at Ajeck. The huntress was shaking. Her left arm hung by her side. She had brought the gun up by the strength of her right arm alone and propped the barrel on her raised knee. Ajeck let the gun fall barrel-first to the sand and slumped over. S.J. rushed to her side and Caraiya followed, laying gentle hands on her wounded friend and letting the Light pour through her, knitting torn skin back together and mending damaged ligaments.
Once she had finished her ministrations, Caraiya hung back. S.J. was murmuring softly, words that seemed private. Caraiya cleaned her weapon and began to skin Sin'Dall while Ajeck and S.J. talked. Finally, S.J. approached her.
"We should get back to camp," he said.
Caraiya jerked her chin in Ajeck's direction. "How is she?"
"A little sore and shaken up, but she'll be fine. Thanks to you."
The three of them journeyed back to the camp, taking little trouble to hide themselves as they did so. Even so, they only encountered a pair of crocolisks on their return, which Caraiya paused to skin and filet – Krazek and his companion Drizzlik would thank her for it.
It was mid-afternoon by the time they returned, and the camp was a flurry of activity. Caraiya went to track down the goblins while S.J. escorted Ajeck back to his tent and enlisted Jaquilina to assist her with a bath; he was still a Stormwind born-and-bred gentleman. Once he was sure Ajeck was in good hands, he sought out Caraiya. She had washed up, as blood no longer caked her hands, but she had yet to change. Her armor lay in a heap by the table where she sat, scribbling in a small bound journal. Krazek hummed to himself nearby as he sliced and skewered chunks of crocolisk meat on a spit in preparation of the evening meal. Caraiya looked up as S.J. approached.
"Thank you," he said solemnly, holding out a hand.
Caraiya shook it. "What for?"
"You've been a true friend to Ajeck these past few months, and to me as well, though I did not see it," S.J. said.
"Oh. You're welcome," Caraiya said, shrugging.
"I wanted you to know we are leaving the expedition, at least for now," S.J. said. "I am returning to Stormwind as the heir of the Erlgadin estate, and Ajeck is coming with me. We set off as soon as Ajeck is ready to travel."
"I'm glad to hear it," Caraiya said.
"We were wondering if you would accompany us to the city," S.J. said.
Caraiya grinned. "Of course I will! I would be happy to."
"I must go," S.J. said as Jaquilina emerged from his tent and waved to catch his attention. "We will let you know of our departure."
Caraiya watched him hurry away, unable to stop grinning like a fool. "Krazek, I'm going home."
The goblin laughed. "Silly girl, you're already home. Home is just where everyone cares about you."
Caraiya glanced over at him. "Hmm. I suppose it is."
