1-
A sunny, and warm day on the harbor. A boat, approaching Darnassas cut through the choppy waters of the ocean. The trees on the land grew larger, and wisps were now in view to the boat. The boat slowed as it approached the dock, and stopped with a small jolt. A bell rang, notifying the passengers that the short voyage from Darkshore. Orlaith, a petite night elf priestess, came out of her daze from the bow of the ship. She slung her bags over her shoulders, and started on her way to her home island of Teldrassil. Her walk was sluggish and slow. She had just returned from Outland, finishing every quest available and helping her comrades in battle against the ruthless Horde. The battles were bloody and the refugees of Illidan and the red-flagged enemy were heartbreaking. She worked beside them, healing each and every one she could. Orlaith was drained. Her family had wrote her a letter to return home for a while, to try and recharge before setting off to Northrend, to now face The Lich King and those tainted by the Scourge.
Orlaith sighed, and used a free hand to brush her white hair out of her eyes. She always kept it short, pulled into a ponytail so she could bend over and get close to her patients to hear their last words and wishes. Many of them kept her in the Lower City's tavern late at night on some occasions. However, it was the captain's orders to leave Outland to find another method of self-medication other than alcohol. It was her parent's suggestion to come home and seek help from the druids. Since she had no where else to go, Orlaith followed their advice. She walked down the dock, as the planks clicked and creaked under her footsteps. She reached the other side, and began to mount up, when a male voice called her name in the distance. She looked up to see, Kaliden, her warrior older brother running up to meet her on his mount.
"Kal!" Orlaith shouted in surprise, as he got off and stood next to her. The last time she heard from her brother was a letter from a few weeks ago when he was battling Sindragosa in Icecrown Citadel. He pulled her close into a warm embrace, and she let her head fall on the hard, cold plate of his breast piece. She breathed in the smell of her brother, but it was different from the last time she hugged him.
"Lei," he smiled at her as he pushed her back to look at her. "You've grown taller! And, um, you look a lot older." His smile faded, as his thumb pulled down the dark circles under her left eye.
"Yes well," she slapped his hand out of the way, shrugging the comment off, "I've got so many boyfriends these days, I just can't keep up with them all. They keep me up all night"
"Well," he changed the subject, "I bet you're wondering why I'm here."
"Yeah," she said, "I mean, how did you get away from your guild? Don't they need you right now?"
"They gave me some time off. Mom and Dad wrote to me, saying you were coming home for some R & R. So, I asked for a week off. Luckily, they had someone to fill in my spot for this week." He smiled, "I said I had to whip my kid-sister into shape so she can start healing for us," He grabbed her into a headlock, and started rubbing his knuckles profusely on her scalp.
"By the light!" Orlaith screamed, the plate digging into her skull, "That hurts!" She struggled against him, but her brother finally let her go, and mounted up. He stuck his tongue out at her, blew a raspberry, and ran off towards the city. She cursed under her breath, but inside really missed her brother's antics. She mounted up, with a half smile, and took after him.
2-
"So Lei," Her father, a retired warrior, started up the conversation at the dinner table in their apartment in Darnassas, "I hope your journey was pleasant to get here." He passed bread around to his wife, a retired huntress, and she took a loaf to throw to her pet, Mookie, the Frostsaber Pride Watcher. Orlaith nibbled on her bread, and thought.
"It wasn't pleasant, but it was okay."
"So, how long do you think you'll need to get on your feet again?" Her mother asked. Her brother groaned.
"I'm not sure, Mom. Whenever I get approval from The High Priestess again."
"Darling," her father began, gently, "stay as long as you need to."
Orlaith nodded. It was a nice gesture, but not an admirable decision to stay in Outland when her friends and brother went off to Northrend. It was a little disconcerting to her family name when she was still there after a year. Now, it was shameful for being released from the Outland forces after almost two years of service with a psychiatric evaluation. She was never the star child her brother was, bringing back glittering gems and titanium ore back from his conquests, stacks of gold, and wonderful, charming females of the Alliance. Orlaith chose to be a priestess because her parents could never heal. When she started it brought her such joy that she belonged in a group, and the group needed her to function. Now, she didn't know anymore.
"I think I'll go out for a walk around the city." Orlaith said, standing up. She didn't look for approval to her parents, she just left the apartment, and started wandering the streets of the beautiful city. The sparkling pools, the cool alabaster under her slippers, and the nature around her made her feel safe. The Horde weren't outside, killing the guards, nor was Illidan sending his special forces to reek havoc upon the local inn. It was calm. Orlaith strolled to a dock, where she removed her slippers, hiked up her robes, and let her smooth, silvery skin be caressed by the clean waters of Darnassas. She looked up to the twilight sky, and breathed deeply. She was interrupted by the sound of clashing swords, and the sound of a dying night elf. Her ears tingled with the haunting sound, shaking it off. Her memories were coming back to haunt her.
Suddenly, guards ran past her, and an alarm was sent out throughout the city. She stood up in awe, watching as the night elves came out armed, and ready to fight. She ran to her family's apartment, where her brother was unsheathing his sword and armed his shield.
"Kal!" She cried, as he ran past her into the mob of Horde, slowly pushing past the guards, making their way to The High Priestess. She started to go upstairs, when her mother and father came sprinting down towards her. Her mother shoved her staff into her hands.
"Go." She said, spinning her daughter around and shoving her towards the action. Orlaith's eyes grew wide as she watched the bloodshed, while her fellow night elves fell into the water, along with a few tauren and other Horde members. She ran towards the front, and initiated her psych scream, fearing a few of them into the water, as her comrades ran after them to finish the stragglers off. She saw her brother fighting a mage, and then he went of spinning into the crowd, a spell he called, Whirlwind. She put her bubble on him and started healing her brother, throwing other bubbles on other comrades. She fought until she ran out of mana, and she realized she didn't have the spellpower to keep her strong brother healed.
"Move!" A druid tree screamed at her, pushing her out of the way, and started to heal the small Alliance army. She fell on her knees, and she looked up, as the Horde started pushing their way through. Orlaith had failed. She watched her mother kill off an undead rogue, and her father deal the finishing blow to an orc warlock. She was on her knees, in the dirt, and out of mana. Other night elf healers came to take her place. Orlaith crawled towards the battle, hoping that if she got out of combat she could drink. That's when it happened.
A male blood elf paladin stood in front of her, ready to deal the crushing blow with his giant maces. She screamed in protest, forcing herself to her feet, and she took out her wand. The paladin took a few hits, and then came back with a strong stun. She felt weaker, but tried to get closer to him to smack him with the wand itself. He hit her again, and she fell to the ground, cold. Her last vision before blacking out was the blood elf laughing at her.
3-
Orlaith's eyes slowly fluttered, as she saw a blurred vision of her brother leaning over her.
"Lei?" His hand reached out to touch her forehead. "She's awake," he shouted, looking up and across from her.
"K-Kal?" She moaned, squirming to try and sit up. But her head was throbbing in piercing pain, she stopped.
"Lei, don't move." Kaliden warned.
"Orlaith, my dear," her father came in and kneeled beside her. "We thought we might have lost you."
"Lei, you were out for three days. What on earth happened?" Kaliden inquired.
"I," she began, her throat begging for water, "could I have a sip of water please?" Her brother handed her a glass. She gulped it, greedily.
"Slow down," he gently took it from her. She gave it up, and sighed. This was pretty pathetic. She forced herself to sit up, even through the pain. "Whoa, there." Kaliden began.
"Kal, back off," She made out, though her head was spinning. She hung her head to catch her breath. He backed away, showing her his palms.
"Lei, can you tell us what brought you down? Can you describe who it was?"
"Yeah," she said. "It was a paladin."
"What did he look like?" Her father demanded.
"How do you know it was a male?" She asked. Her father pursed his lips together, and scratched at his now-graying top knot. "Well, he was kinda tall, blood elf, he had long dark blonde hair, pulled back into like a loose ponytail."
"By the light," her father whispered. "That's the paladin we think has been running these recent bands. His name is Kayalos. We saw you fighting him."
"Kayalos?" She crinkled her nose. "Strange name."
"It doesn't matter what his name is," Kaliden snapped. "Lady Whisperwind is in critical condition, thanks to that paladin." Orlaith's expression grew grim. One more person she could have saved if she went off to Northrend like a good priestess should. The room grew quiet, and Orlaith stood up, and started packing her items that she had laid out before dinner with her family a few nights ago.
"Lei," Kaliden said softly. "You don't have to go."
"I'm not going because I've disappointed the family again, or because I made you cross." She stated. "I'm going because I'm going to find this blood elf, and kill him." Her words could have frozen the entire Barrens, from north to south.
"Orlaith," her father began, "it's a fool's mission." He stood up.
"I am a fool father," she whirled around to face the males of the family. "I am a fool for falling in love with a home I cannot protect. I am a fool for every life decision I have made up to this point." She turned back to packing her things. "But now I will stop being a fool. I will bring you this blood elf. I will bring him to you alive, so he might feel the wrath of the Alliance." Something tugged inside of her. She was no killer, she was a healer. But something bigger was tugging at her, too. She shrugged it off.
"Orlaith," Kaliden began, "This is the Horde we are talking about. If you even make it past the Eastern Plaguelands without the Undead eating you alive, you won't stand a chance against the guards of Silvermoon.
"I never said I had to go to Silvermoon to draw him out. I'll find him." She said. "And I'll be back with his hands tied, following behind my stormsaber." She shoved her last few items into her bags and threw them on her shoulders. "Nothing you say will stop me."
"I think this is going to be very good for you, daughter," a voice spoke up from the doorway. Her mother stood tall, her braided navy hair falling to her hips, one hand on her polearm, the other hand at her hips, and Mookie at her heels. "Go bring us Keyalos." Her glare of hatred burned in her eyes as she spoke.
"Thank you, Mom," Orlaith sighed. "I will not fail." She grabbed her staff, and her mother moved out of the way for her daughter to pass. She took a look at her brother and father, still astonished, but knew when they were defeated.
"Good luck, sis," Kal murmured. She nodded, and walked out of her room, out of the apartment and back to the docks of Teldrassil.
4-
Orlaith shuffled through the traffic of Ironforge, her feet clicking on the hard metal floors, and trying not to trip over the dwarves and gnomes. She made her way from the Great Forge to the Deeprun Tram, where the knee-high people ran rampant. She had a name, from her mother as she departed.
"His name is Sporky. He's a mage with a full gray beard, but he's a great underground engineer. He can make you anything you could ever want." Her mother had said. "Here," she gave her daughter a piece of paper. "That's all you need to know to access our bank account." Orlaith looked in her hand, and looked up at her mother, lips parting as if to thank her, but the words didn't come out. "What are you doing still standing there?" She demanded. Orlaith nodded and rushed down the stairs.
Orlaith shuffled to an office, where a few gnomes concentrated on their tinkering.
"Excuse me," she said, gently touching the arm of a green-haired gnome. He exploded, failing his arms, and yelling in gnomish. Screws and bolts and scrap metal flew through the air, as Orlaith jumped back, and tried to calm him down.
"O-Oh my," the green-haired gnome stammered. He looked at her with giant spectacles attached to his face, and he removed them. "I apologize I can't see anything too far away with these things on." He stood on his chair and stuck out his hand. "Let's start over. Everybody calls me Timer. Let's not go over why they call me that," the gnome shuddered. The white-haired priestess couldn't stop a small grin from creeping over her face, as she accepted his hand in hers.
"My name is Orlaith, forgive me for being so direct, but I'm in a hurry. I am looking for," she lowered her voice and leaned in closer. "Sporky," she whispered, "I heard he can make me anything I need, as long as I have something decent to pay him with." The gnome chuckled.
"Sporky, that slippery mage," he said, shaking his head, "that's my uncle. He's long been retired from that business now. He's more partial to building toys now." Orlaith's eyes grew wide.
"Please, sir. I'm a desperate elf," she grabbed his small, pink hand in her silvery, delicate one. "I need him. If I could just meet with him," she began. The gnome put his hand over hers, and smiled gently.
"Listen, miss," he began softly, "He won't make anything. I've tried before many a time." Orlaith groaned, falling to her smooth behind, and crossing her legs. She buried her face in her hands and began to weep.
"You don't understand, sir. If I can't get him to make an item for me, my life is over. I cannot go back to my family and comrades empty-handed." Timer climbed down from his chair, and kneeled beside her. "I've lost everything in my life, and this is my one shot, sir." She looked up at him, eyes begging and pleading for him to take some pity on her. The gnome sighed.
"Oh Priestess," he took her hand, petting it gently. "I'm sure whatever you need, I can build it for you. And I probably will do it for a lot less money than my Uncle."
"By the light!" She grabbed his small body to hers, in a bone-crushing embrace. "Thank you so much, Mister Timer, sir! I will do anything and everything you say! Anything you need me to get, I shall!" She released him, and he staggered back, coughing and sputtering. Orlaith gasped, ran to the sink and got him a glass of water. Timer took it from her, and drank it. He put the glass down and wiped his mouth with his sleeve.
"First," he started, catching his breath, "first order of business." He sat down, and faced the priestess. "Never do that again. I'm afraid I won't recover from the next one." She nodded obediently. "Second," his face softened as he smiled at her, "what can I make for you?"
"Timer," she smiled at him, "I need a tracking device."
5-
Four months had passed, Orlaith had spent many late nights helping the gnome work on her tracker. She bonded with his family, and never hugged any one of them again. Timer made her the device at no cost to her parents, for his only rule was that she sat with him and talked to him to keep him company while he worked. She used this time to work on her sewing, tailoring bags, and even made a few dresses. Timer was a nice man, never married, and about ten years older than she. He had brothers and sisters who were married and had children of their own, but Timer always shrugged and said he had just never met the right gnome to settle down with.
"Orlaith?" Timer asked one morning, as he tinkered with the device.
"Yes?" She responded, not looking up from her needlework.
"You never told me how capturing this blood elf was going to benefit you." Orlaith froze. Oh it would benefit her in millions of ways, she could just never admitted to herself what it could be.
"Let's just leave it for Darnassas to decide." She said. There was a pause, before she spoke again. "Besides, with Kayalos gone, the deeprun tram would probably be a safer place. Wouldn't you agree?" The gnome smiled.
"You're a kind person, Orlaith." The priestess grew guilty. She wasn't capturing Kayalos for the benefit of the Alliance, but to deal with her own personal demons.
"Trust me, I'm not," she murmured to herself.
Another two months passed and the tracking device was finished. She hugged her friend, gently and said goodbye to his whole family. She even met Sporky, who said to Timer in gnomish about how instead of getting company for six months, he should've made the priestess marry him. Timer shrugged, and held his dear friend and said goodbye. When she wasn't looking, he slipped some food and drink into her bags, climbing up the tall dresser of her room to get to them, and having a niece hand the food up to him while he stashed it away before she could return from the auction house.
The younger members of Timer's family bawled, and begged the priestess to stay. Orlaith choked up, as she gave each of the children a gold piece baked into some sweet bread. The night elf took her leave, and remembered the instructions that Timer had given her to use the Tracker. She set of for Kalimdor, riding the boat from Stormwind to Darkshore. There she flew all the way to the Barrens. When she arrived she sought out a vendor, who had made these things he called "Smoke Berries". Timer's instructions were to get as close to Kayalos as possible, and slip the sensor into his bag. To get close to him, she had already figured it out. It was escaping the Horde, alive, that was the difficult part. She traveled to Crossroads, a small Tauren and Orc town between the two Horde cities. Kayalos had to come defend the small area. She took a deep breath, for this was the first time she was going into battle again since that awful day Kayalos almost killed her.
She rode into the town, and started killing everything she could, vendors, innkeepers, guards, young, old, and even the griffin master.
"Ogerin!" "Ogerin!" "Ogerin!" The guards screamed.
It was only a matter of time, her face and body, covered in the Horde blood, that the paladin would come to defend. While the priestess was finishing off a small Tauren warrior with smite, she heard the wings flapping of griffins. This was her time. She stood in the middle of the road, and activated shadowmeld. There, one by one, powerful Horde creatures came to defend their comrades. Inside, Orlaith felt something evil and powerful growing, and she wanted to laugh at those who had brought misfortune to her hometown of Darnassas. She wanted them to feel every ounce of what she felt, pain, anger, and complete powerlessness. She watched them as they went to their dead comrades, and knelt over their lifeless, bloody bodies. Suddenly, a twinge of pain sparked throughout her chest, as she remembered when she was too late to save her friends in battle. She shook it off, and tried to stay focused. Where was that damned paladin? Wasn't he coming?
Suddenly, a griffin landed, and there he was. Once standing tall and proud, he walked to a kneeling Orc and placed a hand on his shoulder. They spoke in Orcish to each other, and then he walked away. Suddenly, he stopped in his tracks. He unsheathed his sword, and stood in a battle stance.
"I know you're here!" He roared in Common. "Come out now!" Orlaith's heart skipped a beat. She stood her ground, refusing to give up. The other Horde members responded to the paladin's anger, and they spoke to each other. Confused voices turned into angry voices, as they all started to search for the intruder. The priestess watched the blood elf's moves, waiting for him to get closer, she waited until he was about five feet away from her.
"I can smell you," he growled, face full of anger and vengeance. Just two more steps, come on you nasty old pally, Orlaith chanted in her head. Finally, one of his feet took a step in her direction, and then the other foot just touched the ground next to her. The plate of his boots clicked with the step, and Orlaith reached out and dropped the tracking receiver into a pocket. She faded back in from Shadowmeld, and she screamed a Darnassian battle cry. She threw the Smoke Berries at the paladin's feet, and took advantage of the confusion. The priestess ran in the other direction, coughing and choking on the smoke berry fumes. She sprinted into the desert, dust kicking up behind her, and never looked back.
"Kayalos!" A deep voice rang through the dark purple smoke, "Get out of that!" The paladin crawled towards the sound of the voice, and pulled his shirt up over his face. His eyes blistered with pain, and he kept moving. Finally, it seemed like years before he reached the other end of the cloud of smoke, but he dragged himself out.
"Wh-what h-happened?" He sputtered, as his Tauren friend, Akken, handed him a flask of water. The blood elf gulped it greedily, trying to stifle his coughing.
"Damned night elf," Akken grumbled, "She did some damage. Looks like the innkeeper and griffin master will survive, she didn't kill anything." The Tauren kicked some blood-stained dust with his hoof to blend the untainted dust with it.
"Rotten, cocky thing. Did she get away?" Kayalos demanded.
"It looks like she did."
"How cowardly. Did she bring friends?"
"No," the Tauren admitted, "We couldn't find any evidence of that."
"Too bad," Kayalos picked up his sword, and stood up. "I would've liked to get even."
"Kay!" A female voice cried out. The paladin turned around, only to be tackled to the ground. His head smacked the hardened ground beneath him, and he looked up to see stars, and a female blood elf sitting on top of his midsection.
"Nice to see you, too, Illissa." Kayalos grumbled. "Now get off." He pushed her aside, and sat up. The dark haired rogue pushed him with her foot.
"I guess I missed the party," she said. "Too bad, I'm dying to fight with you again, Kay." She smiled at him. Akken stared at the two blood elves in the dust, and put his palm over his face.
"If you two are finished flirting, maybe we could track her down." The Tauren warrior stated.
"It will take a while to catch up." Kayalos got to his feet again, and walked to the edge of the town. He pointed to the horizon. "By now she's halfway to Astranaar."
"We could always meet her there," the Tauren fingered his axe.
"It was a woman?" Illissa asked quizzically. "Did she hurt you?" She rose to her feet, and reached for the paladin. The male blood-elf slapped her hands away.
"I'm fine. Just go home Illissa, you're in the way again." Illissa pouted, sticking her ruby lips out, and crossing her arms.
"I have every right to be here, just as you do." The pretty dark haired rogue stated. Kayalos sighed. This rogue had been following him for months now. She was a few levels behind him, still stuck in the Outlands, where Kayalos had long finished in Northrend. Kayalos had come back to the old continents to defend his comrades who had so bravely stuck with him in battling The Lich King himself. Ever since he returned, this rogue had abandoned her training and started stalking him like the Savannah Prowlers deep in the Barrens. He had no interest in those who abandon their training to pursue something as silly as dating or friendships. The best friendships were made on the battlefield.
"Well then I'm going back to Ogrimmar, you can stay here," he declared. "Akken, meet me at the officer's lounge."
"Fine, well I'm going to Thunder Bluff just to get away from you, Kayalos." The rogue stated, and she mounted up. "You'll miss me," she yelled as she rode in the direction of Ogrimmar. The tauren and blood elf watched as she rode off and faded into the horizon.
"I'm so glad that worked." Kayalos breathed a sigh of relief.
"I don't know why you're complaining," Akken grunted. "There is nothing wrong with getting a little fun in between battles, buddy."
"I'm not interested in what she's offering, Akken," the paladin snapped. "Right now, I am only interested in one thing, and that's catching that night elf and making her suffer."
"Sometimes, you worry me," The warrior stated, and sheathed the axe on his back. "Well it looks like she took off to Astranaar, do you need company?" A devilish grin appeared on the blood-elf's face, as he touched his blade.
"I would like to handle this one on my own. I need to blow off some steam anyway," the paladin mounted up. "Besides, if you're interested in 'some fun between battles' I can always bring her back for you." The Tauren pondered a minute, but once it struck what the blood-elf was intending, he was repulsed.
"Kayalos," Akken began. The paladin didn't listen, and rode off after the priestess.
Orlaith was now on the edge of Ashenvale, close to the connection to the Barrens. It began to rain, as the pretty white-haired priestess took her ponytail down, letting her hair that had grown for the past six months settle at her waist. It gave her some warmth as she also pulled a cloak out of her bag and wrapped it around her. She sat down at the base of a tree, and pulled out the tracking scanner. She started to turn the crank to give it some energy, when her stomach started to growl. She opened her bags and found packages of nightfin soup.
"Timer," she thought to herself and smiled. How sweet of him. She ate it slowly, thinking of her time spent with the gnomes and Ironforge. It was time well spent in her mind. She also found some purified draenic water flasks in her bag. She guzzled it down, and sighed. She was alone in the woods. Orlaith spent most of her time alone, not because she didn't like people, but she liked being by herself and spending her time meditating. In her work in Outland, she didn't have much time to be alone due to the crowded living conditions in Shattrath City. She loved nature, being from the night elves, but most nature in Outland was nothing like her home in Kalimdor. Orlaith felt herself relaxing as she drifted off into a small catnap.
However, a nightsaber ran past her, startling her from her pensive mood. The priestess felt it was a good time to check her tracker and get on the hunt to avenge her comrades. She cranked the wheel and looked at the screen. It was blank for a while, then she saw a blinking green dot on the far corner. Orlaith shook the device, thinking it was broken, when she saw the green light coming towards the center. The priestess shoved the device in her pocket, and climbed one of the tall trees. She perched on a branch that was dangling over the road, and shadowmelded. That's when she heard the light and quick footsteps of a hawkstrider. Sure enough, there was the mighty Kayalos, riding his mount with ferocity and intensity. Once again, it was the waiting game until the last possible moment for the priestess. She watched as he came closer and closer, until he was just about under her, when she bounced from her branch, and pounced on top of her prey.
The blood elf grunted in pain, as she knocked him off of her mount, and they tumbled to the grass. She straddled him, taking her staff and pushing it up to his throat, pinning him from moving, and pushing her upper body weight into the iron staff.
"Kayalos," she hissed in Common. "So we finally meet."
"I'll kill you for this," he choked out in Common. She was surprised to learn he actually could speak Common, the Alliance language. What he said before, she thought he had only learned phrases, like she knew phrases in Orcish. She shrugged it off.
"You have been leading armies to try to kill of the leaders of the Alliance. Yet you come to follow me alone have you?"
"Don't worry," he sputtered, "I only need to get up to best you." Orlaith cackled.
"Well I promise that you will never get that chance again." She hissed. The paladin looked at her quizzically. He searched his memory for a time they might have met before. He recognized the red leaf tattoos on her eyes.
"Oh yeah," he laughed, "that pathetic priestess who took two smacks from my mace to go down. Is that you?"
"Shut up," she growled, putting her body weight on her staff. Anger surged through every capillary in her body, begging for revenge. Kayalos stared into her eyes, filled with passion, heat and anger. It was looking into the eyes of a warrior. However, this night elf was not making any moves to finish him off. This intense look, searing into his own eyes, it sparked something deep within his chest, and it traveled to his loins, which were now responding to a very nice bottom planted on his stomach.
What was this feeling? Was is lust for this savage and hippie Alliance member? Surely he had all the dainty blood elves of the horde to look at, and even take to his bed if he so desired, but none of them sparked this feeling that was searing at his midsection.
"Why so quiet, Paladin?" Orlaith demanded, pushing the staff up his neck. He winced in pain, and saw a speck of pleasure rush into her eyes. All of his thoughts began to fade as he planned a battle strategy. He reached to his leg, where his fingers wrapped around a small dagger.
"I was just wondering," he said as they gripped it, "just how weak you think I really am?" And he plunged the dagger into her side. Orlaith gasped in pain, as she let go of her staff. Kayalos pushed her off of him, and grabbed his mace laying beside her. The priestess grabbed her staff, clutching her side and swung carelessly at him, as the blood-elf ducked from her blow. He remembered her fighting style. Never give up. It was pretty clear that she was weak, but he had never seen a weak person continue fighting, even when it was pretty clear who the winner would be. He got close, and whacked her in the back of her head with his mace. A loud crack came from the sound of her skull, as she fell to the ground in a pool of blood. The priestess was defeated, but he saw her feeling the ground with her hands, searching for something. She grabbed the dagger he had dropped, and he walked over to her and stepped on her hand for her to drop it.
"Let it go, night elf," Kayalos said, sternly. "You are defeated."
"N-no," she sputtered, blood dripping from her lips. "I will hunt you until the end of your days, Kayalos."
"Priestess, I will spare your life if you abandon that thought." The paladin offered.
"N-never!" She shouted, face down in the dirt. She pushed herself up to her hands and knees, and the blood elf stared at her in amazement. Anyone else would be begging to be spared, telling him of their families they had to go back to. Sometimes he listened to their pleas, other times he didn't.
"You should give up, I have won," he growled.
"I'm not dead yet, I can still fight!" Orlaith picked up her staff, and got to her feet, swaying slightly, as the blood ran down her robes. The paladin saw that fierce look in her eyes, and the feeling returned to his loins, as they begged for her to attend to them. Instead of obeying them, he got closer to her with her failing to try and smack him with her staff, put his foot in her stomach, and kicked her to her back. She fell over and hit the ground with a loud thud. Finally, it looked like her body gave up on her, and she had fainted.
Kayalos breathed a long sigh of relief. He was glad he didn't kill her, and she could recover from these wounds. Wait a minute! What was that? This is a defender of the Alliance. The dogs that scoff at his friends, insisting that the Horde are barbarians, and including his entire race of blood elves, too. The racial diversity brought anger into his mind, as he clenched his fists above the unconscious priestess. He glared at her, but his gaze shifted from her soft features of her face, the silvery complexion, now shining in the drizzling rain. His gaze drifted down her collarbone to her soft, perky breasts, and now a small nipple poking out from her cloth robes. He cursed under his breath, as he bent over her body. There was no way he could leave now without the thoughts of her echoing throughout his mind for the rest of the day. Or week.
So Kayalos did something he never did before, he used his holy spells to heal her wounds. He picked her up from the middle of the road, and mounted up with her in his arms. The blood elf carried her off into the forest, and took the priestess to a small cave to the south. He laid her down on a pallet made from her cloak and his, and stared at her beauty of her misty skin. Her lips parted slightly, and he watched her chest rise and fall. It was strange to be close to something so alive and so beautiful. The blood elf removed his glove and touched her hair, and tucked it back behind her ear. He pulled his hand back, but her lips beckoned him. They were dark and full, and he wondered what she tasted like. The paladin stared at her, to make sure she was really still unconscious, and then he leaned over her body, and covered her soft, dainty lips with his strong and sturdy ones. She tasted of moonberries.
His body responded to the kiss with raging desire. He quickly jerked back, as he felt her shift under the weight of her body. He fell back, ready for her to come to and start fighting with him, but she didn't. She sighed and turned over on her side that wasn't damaged. Good, she's asleep. He thought. He started to get up and leave, but when he moved away with the thought of never seeing her again, it just brought him right back to her side.
"Great," he grumbled to himself. "This is just fantastic." Anger swelled and he needed to kill. He left the cave with all of his belongings, but armed with his mace, and desire to abandon the priestess in the cave.
It was dark. Too dark to be daytime, Orlaith figured. It was also cold. She reached at her feet for a blanket, but found nothing there.
"Darn it," she murmured to herself, and stood up to find a blanket. However her head hit something solid and she sat back down rubbing her head in pain. The back of her head started to burst into splintering pain that rushed down to her left side. She grabbed it, only for the pain to worsen instead of subside.
"Be careful," she heard a male voice warn her, "It's still tender." Orlaith turned to see a campfire, and blinked to see who's face was in the light.
"You!" She shouted, standing up again, and bashing her head against the ceiling of the cave. She fell to her rump, as her head felt like it was splitting in two. She cradled it for a while, rocking back and forth to subside the pain.
"Here," the blood elf said. She peeked through her legs to see him holding a potion out to her.
"Are you crazy? I'm not drinking that," she snarled.
"Well then, enjoy the pain. 'Cause it's not going anywhere soon I can guarantee that." Kayalos put it down by the fire and shrugged at her. Orlaith rocked a bit more, looked at the potion, then snatched it from the ground and guzzled it down.
"So priestess," he began, as he started to eat something from his bag, "tell me what your name is." He put his arms behind his head and leaned against the wall, crossing his legs in front of him. The white-haired priestess struggled to think about what he said. Last time she remembered, he wanted to kill her. Now she was in a cave with him, making small talk?
"It's," she began, but then her eyes narrowed, "why do you want to know? For my headstone? Would you even bother with one?" Kayalos laughed.
"Girl," he stated, almost as an insult, "you really think I would make a headstone for a member of the Alliance?"
"Probably not. I didn't even think twice to make headstones for all those people in Crossroads," she sneered at him. Her words fueled his hatred of the Alliance, as he jumped on top of her, pinning her down beneath him.
"Well you failed back there." He hissed at her. "Not one casualty. They all survived." He searched in her eyes to see any disbelief or anger for not finishing the job. He couldn't find anything but content. Instead, the surprise was on him.
"It doesn't matter. My main concern was capturing you," the priestess stated.
"You did a fine job back there," he said sarcastically, holding her small, but toned arms tightly in his strong grip. She glared at him.
"It's only a matter of time. If my heart still beats, I will keep hunting you. As long as there is air in my lungs, you will have to sleep with one eye open. Someday, I will win." She said, determinedly.
"How will I get you to stop, priestess?" He asked, his face moving closer to hers. For the first time, Orlaith saw how beautifully sculpted his facial features were. They were soft and kind, but also weathered and strong. His eyes seared into her heart, searching for answers she didn't even know the questions to. She realized her legs were spread open to him, as he had one knee in between her long, silky legs. He had removed his plate, so only her cloth and his leather breeches separated their skin. She had never been this close to a male before, and it scared her. It scared her more then when he was ready to severe all ties between her and the living world. She shuttered, squirming under his grasp. The blood elf recognized her uneasiness, and wanted to know what she was thinking at that exact moment.
"Priestess," he began, his voice shocking himself at the gentleness. "Tell me your name."
"Promise to get off of me and I will." She squirmed, as the blood elf grinned.
"I've never been much for bargaining. So you go first. Tell me your name." He said again. He realized that she was responding to his body. Whether the reaction was good or bad, he had her in a bind, and he was loving every minute of it. It was the first time she had shown weakness to him.
"It's Orlaith." She murmured.
"I'm sorry, what was that?" He grinned more.
"Orlaith!" She shouted, pushing against him, as her side seared with pain. She kneed him in the stomach, and the blood elf fell over. The priestess clutched her side in pain, letting out a moan of despair. Kayalos, who had finally seen her at a weak point, was disappointed to see her fight back so soon. He was having fun watching her squirm beneath him. He longed to feel her warm and wet softness hug him tightly as he thrust inside her. However, it was going to take a little more persuading on her part.
"And I know you," she said, defiantly, "you're Kayalos, the evil paladin that raids the home cities of the Alliance."
"Oh you forget, I also raid the small towns, too."
"You disgust me," she growled.
"Priestess, the Alliance tries to kill the leaders of the Horde, too. We are at war." He rolled his eyes at her justifiability.
"We should be working together, fighting beside each other to kill Illidan and the might of The Lich King. With all of us together we could do it." She said, sitting up with fire flickering in her eyes. Kayalos looked at her in amazement. Orlaith felt she had said too much, this was her own opinion, and not something she should be sharing with the enemy. "It doesn't matter now, because as of right now," Orlaith crawled towards him, with her robes drifting down exposing her ravishing cleavage, "you are my captive." A clamping sound and chains rustling drew his attention to his wrist, which was now covered by a large cuff. Orlaith raised her own wrist to show that she had fastened it to herself while rolling on the floor. The priestess grinned devilishly, as the paladin started to chuckle.
"Priestess," he began, "I could drag you to Ogrimmar, for believe me, you are not that heavy to carry." Orlaith's mouth opened, her eyes narrowed, and it was clear that she hadn't thought about the part where Kayalos had more strength than herself. However he got an idea. "Tell you what, I'll go along with you on this little journey, but right before we get to our destination, you must defeat me in a duel." Orlaith laughed.
"I can do it," she said, "don't you worry. Now, let's get some sleep. Darnassas is a long trip ahead since we can't take a griffin with you around."
"Darnassas? What's there?" He scoffed.
"I am to present you to the High Priestess once we arrive there. They decide what to do with you from there. You'll probably find yourself in the Stormwind Stockades if they decide to spare your life."
"Then I guess I can't lose that duel," the paladin challenged.
"Neither can I, Paladin." Orlaith responded.
"Will you take these bloody irons off of us? It's driving me crazy!" Kayalos demanded, as they were walking up the hills of the road in Astranaar. "The jingling, the pulling, it's barbaric!" He yanked on his end to get the priestess to pay attention to him.
"Well if I take it off, how do I know you won't run away?" She barked at him.
"I promise," he stated, folding his fingers, "scout's honor."
"Not good enough," Orlaith stated, shrugging him off and tugging him along.
"No, I am not going a step further with this racket the chains are making. We'll wake the dead. Not to mention the other party's guards, and I don't feel like killing any guards today." He rested his head on his hand.
"Jeez," Orlaith rolled her eyes, "you're such a little kid. Temper, temper," she tsk'ed. He glared at her. Mail clinking reminded him of his early days training with his family. And why he loathed the Alliance in the first place. But he wasn't going to tell her that. He never told anyone that.
"Here," he removed a ring from his finger. "It's the Ashen Band of Endless Might." He tossed it into her hands. "I got that as a gift from the Ashen Verdict. They are assisting the us for the fall of The Lich King." She stared at the small band in her palm.
"What do I do with this?" She asked, softly.
"Hold on to it. That way, I will not run very far from you. That is my most prized possession." He told her. True he had things of greater value on him, but all of them could be replaced. Nothing could replace a gift he received from comrades in battle. Orlaith studied the item carefully, and slipped it on her thumb. It was still a little big, but it would probably stay put if she was careful. It was heavy and scratched, and inside the rungs it was stained red with the blood of his victims. She shuddered at the thought of wearing it, so she moved it to her pocket until she could wash it in a river.
"Now, why aren't we riding our mounts again?" Kayalos inquired.
"Because," Orlaith replied, "A hawkstrider can be spotted a mile away. However, from a mile away, we could pass you for a human." She stared at his elfish ears. "On the other hand," she reached up and tugged on one of his tanned ears, but there was a chunk missing from the back. "Whoa," she snapped her hand back to her side. "What happened there?" The paladin shrugged.
"I've got tons of scars," he reached up to feel where she had touched. "Wouldn't be surprised if there's a few pieces of me all over Azeroth." He chuckled, and the priestess's jaw dropped.
"Wait, what part of your body did you lose exactly?" She asked.
"What?" He studied her face, "It was a joke," he said quickly, putting an answer to anything she was thinking. Her silvery face turned a bright pink, as she apologized over and over. There was an awkward silence that fell over the two. Orlaith felt it was necessary change the subject.
"So, um, Kayalos," she began.
"Just call me Kay." He said, and added, "hearing you say my full name all the time kind of annoying."
"Oh, okay," she stammered. "Um, so Kay, where is your family? Do they live in Silvermoon? Do you visit them at all?"
The paladin's lips pursed together. He ignored her comment, and grew silent.
"Okay," the priestess said, uncomfortably. "You don't want to talk about that. I respect that." She started to pull her hair back into a ponytail. "We all have our demons." She added. Suddenly, the paladin grabbed her and pinned her behind a tree. His arm wrapped around her chest as he faced the opposite direction, peeking from behind the trunk. She was about to protest when he put a finger to his lips. She listened, and she could hear the faint sounds of something coming to them on the path. It slowed to a stop, and Orlaith trembled at the thought of a guard trying to kill Kayalos. Well, for the fact that he was her ticket back into her family's honorable name.
Whoa. Orlaith put her hand to her forehead in disbelief at her pettiness. Is this why I'm taking Kayalos to Darnassas? To gain my family's acceptance again and go back to Outland? She shook her head from the thoughts. Suddenly, the blood elf let her go, as he started speaking in Orcish. Oh NO! His friends found him! I'm dead!
"Orlaith, it's okay to come out. It's just my friend. He won't hurt you, right?" Kay told her. Orlaith slowly exposed herself from the tree, clutching tightly to her staff. "Orlaith," he motioned for her to come closer. "Meet my friend Akken. He's a true friend, and saved me many times in battle." She approached the Tauren slowly, and bowed before him.
"It's nice to meet you, Akken," She said in Common.
"Nice," the Tauren nodded, his accent hidden in a heavy Orcish accent.
"He doesn't speak Common, but you do?" Orlaith inquired to the paladin.
"Part of ancient history. I learned common when I was a boy."
Suddenly, the Tauren interrupted them, and spoke frantically to the paladin. Kayalos looked alarmed and started speaking faster, and then grew frustrated. Kayalos pointed to Orlaith and said more words she couldn't understand. Suddenly, the Tauren chuckled softly, and said something in a low voice, as if it were dangerous to hear. Who else but Orlaith and the woods were listening? Kayalos started shaking his head and motioning "No" to the warrior. The Tauren pleaded with his friend, and then finally, his friend sighed and nodded. The Tauren looked relieved and mounted the biggest mount she had ever seen in her life.
"Let's go," Kayalos stated, "and stop staring, it's rude." She glared at him, and his hands grabbed her waist, and before she could protest, he hoisted her up to one sling of the giant elephant-looking thing, and walked around and hoisted himself up into the other one. With arms crossed behind his head, he laid back, and closed his eyes. When he opened one of them for the fear of someone watching him, there was a pair of glowing eyes staring at him from over the flank of the animal. He closed his eye.
"You better not be standing in that saddle. If you fall off, it's your own fault, and you'll get left behind."
"Where are we going?" Orlaith inquired.
"Thunder Bluff." Kayalos answered.
"Um, hello?" She said sarcastically, "They'll kill me if I even set foot in there?"
"We'll disguise you. We'll take you to the oasis to roll around in some mud."
"Oh yeah, like a night elf covered in mud and sticks won't attract any attention in Thunder Bluff." She snorted at him. He half smiled at the idea.
"We'll make you look like a horde female."
"Once again, that's not going to work. I can't look like a Tauren or an Orc, I'm not burly or husky enough. Undead is out of the question, I have all my bones in tact, with skin over them. Not to mention I don't smell like rotting flesh. A Troll is also a no go, because my teeth don't grow up to my nose, nor do I have massive dreadlocks that I've been working on for the past three years." She thought, "And I'm too tall to be a blood elf."
"You're so negative, Orlaith," Kayalos said, but after listening to her description, it made sense why he wasn't very attracted to other members of the horde. "We have you covered. He reached into the back of his sack, and threw some cloth at her.
"Ow!" She shouted, as it hit her in the face. She disappeared back behind the mammoth's flank, and then Kayalos went back to his cat nap. After a few minutes of his silence, Orlaith popped her head up and rested her arms on the backside of the animal.
"So, Kay," the priestess began. "What's in Thunder Bluff that you're in such a hurry to get to?" Silence. "Okay, so another subject you won't talk about, but I mean, I deserve an explanation one of these days." She sunk back into her saddle, opened her bag where the tracker was hidden. She looked to the screen and cranked the handle. The blinking green light was still there. If he ever ran off, she would just have to track him down again, but this time, she also had his ring. She put it back into her bag and looked up, to see the blistering sun beating down on her.
The Priestess's ears twitched, and she looked up to see a cloud of dust on the horizon. Akken grumbled, but of course in the brutal language she couldn't understand. Kay responded in rushed and aggravated tones. She saw the Tauren nod, and he turned his head in her direction and nodded. She looked at him quizzically, when a surging ball of energy suddenly collided with her and knocked her to the hardened ground of dust and rocks. She heard a snapping noise, and she felt pain flooding to her midsection, pulsing throughout her body. Everything faded but her pain, as she tried to catch her breath.
"Just go along with it," she heard Kay's voice hiss. Her arms were being pulled behind her as he rolled her onto her stomach.
"Ah-" She held in her tears, the pain was almost unbearable. He moved her to her side and she heard his sword being unsheathed. With one of her ears to the ground, she listened as hoof beats grew louder, and shaking the earth below her. Orlaith squeezed her eyes shut and clenched her teeth. She wasn't about to let it end like this. As the hooves came to a stop, she listened to the sound of people dismounting and walking to her two captors. She listened as they exchanged pleasant greetings, and moved to more business-tones. She heard a scratchy voice, hissing and snarling, and footsteps drew closer to her. Her nostrils were filled with the scent of rotting flesh. She knew a ruthless undead was nearby, perhaps standing right behind her. She opened her eyes, and saw Kayalos, the wretched snake! He betrayed her, and she trusted him, like a fool. What an idiot he probably thought she was. The bounty of a night elf, even a measly night elf like she was, could probably get him a few nights in an inn. Perhaps with company, and she shuddered at the thought. Meanwhile, she was to be an undead's dinner. Orlaith glared, and she swung her hips around with all her might, knocking the blood elf from his feet.
His buddies yelped and approached him, drawing their weapons. But the paladin held his hand up, as if to stop them. From her position on the ground, Orlaith glared at him, and while he was standing up, she spat at his feet. The blood elf's expression grew very grim, and suddenly the world went completely dark. Orlaith shouted, moving and squirming, through the pain in her side. As her eyes adjusted to the dark, she saw holes of light, and realized they put a sack over her head. She let out an ear-piercing shriek, and then felt an ache in the back of her head. The holes of light spun around her, and they faded into total darkness.
"What the hell was that for?" Kayalos demanded from the undead rogue. The undead snarled at him in disgust.
"I like my meals silent, pretty boy."
"I never said this lunch is available. I'm not a food vendor." Kayalos said quickly. "However, this meal is already been paid for by someone else." He lied through his teeth, to the lower ranks, including an orc hunter, a troll shaman, and an orc warlock.
"You've grown accustomed to living like him?" The shaman sneered, pointing to the undead. The undead snickered.
"Wait," the warlock removed the helm of the cloak, revealing that she was a woman. "I recognize you." She stepped towards him, and sniffed him like an animal. "You smell of Alliance blood. You must be the fearsome Kayalos."
"Akeema, you know him?"The hunter demanded. The warlock nodded.
"This is the blood elf that has been raiding up and down the Alliance banks. He's probably been to every corner of Azeroth." The warlock smiled. "He's even nicer to look at than my sister told me." The troll groaned.
"Then we've no more to bother you with, sir," the hunter stepped to him. "I apologize for my friends and I hope they haven't offended you." He motioned to the rogue and shaman. "They are eager for battle." The blood elf studied the hunter for a minute, noticing he was a higher rank and older than the rest. The blood elf nodded. The group began to mount up, and Kayalos stopped them.
"Since this isn't my normal routine, I don't want word spreading around Ogrimmar that I'm collecting night elf meat, so please," he tossed a gold coin to each of them, "you never saw me." The troll bit his coin and grinned.
"Sure thing," the shaman said, and they were all on their way.
The paladin breathed a sigh of relief. He was good at lying, so it was curious as to why this lie he told was such a burden. Akken hopped down from his mammoth, and bent down to where Orlaith lay. He gently picked up her head, and removed the mask.
"Is she still breathing?" The paladin asked. The warrior put his hand to her heart.
"She lives," he declared after a few moments. The paladin rolled his eyes. How much trouble could he get into in one day?
"Shall we go on?" The paladin hoisted himself up into the seat of the mammoth. The Tauren stared at him.
"Are you just going to-"
"I don't care for what you are about to say. Let's just go." The blood elf interrupted.
"But she could need help." The warrior tried again.
"This is not my problem, Akken. It was her fault for coming with us." He shrugged his shoulders.
"This is the desert, Kay," Akken started.
"Do I have to go there by myself? You can stay here with the wench, and be fodder for the elements and creatures with her." The Tauren grumbled, mounting the mammoth, and they rode off. It wasn't before they reached the inn, before he realized he had left his precious ring in her care. He was about to go find it, when he realized it was better served as a memorial for her, then to assist him in the brutality on his hand.