Monsters: A Warcraft Story

by Nomdic- J

SI:7 Agents hurry to capture and kill the notorious assassin Dr. Black after he manages to escape from their custody with the help of a rogue agent, leaving a trail of carnage in his wake.

Monsters:

A Warcraft Story

By Jules Antonio Carter

Part I

"Dr. Kane Black, Associate Professor of the former University of Gilneas... Seems you have developed quite the reputation... Tell me, how does a doctor in engineering and chemistry disappear for nearly two decades and go from being a mild-mannered professor to being one of the most notorious assassins in Azeroth?" Pacing in the metal, sealed interrogation room Felva and the recently captured criminal were contained in- she scrutinized the prisoner chained in front of her with barely concealed disgust.

Black gave a gruff chuckle. "One of the most notorious assassins in Azeroth? My… what a compliment. I had no idea. My invitation to join the Uncrowned must have been lost in the mail then." The prisoner gave a harsh laugh. "And whoever said I was mild-mannered? Even if I were, I don't see why it would be a surprise. I don't think being a killer and being mild-mannered are mutually exclusive. Anyway, dear, your information isn't quite right. Technically I don't have a doctorate in chemistry... I am just well versed in-"

"Making poisons? Yes... Doctor Black, we have been keeping tabs on you ever since you have started upsetting the natural balance of what it is we do."

"What's that? Be shit at spying?" His dark smile seemed wider than what actually should be possible. But the wolfish grin did nothing but piss her off. Felva suppressed an urge to wrap her fingers around the Doctor's neck.

She leaned her stout form over the wooden table, bringing herself closer to Black."If we are shit spies you must be horrible at whatever it is you do because you sure as hell never caught on to us now did you? Walked right into our trap like a babe in the woods. Your reputation does not proceed you, Black. In fact, I'm almost a little disappointed. We've been planning this operation for months. You've been getting sloppy. We had contingency plan after contingency plan ready and we never even had to open the book. Your capture was child's play. Rest assured Black…because of your incompetence- you'll never see the light of day again." Her voice had an edge of irritation as she glared at the dark-skinned male. She was trying to cut through his apparent apathy of the ensuing mess he was in. As she studied his passive, even sardonic features- she could tell it wasn't working.

He chuckled again. The rumbling show of mirth deep and menacing. She felt her features contort at his inability to grasp the situation at hand. But as the prisoner continued in his inappropriate show of mirth, she caught something in the gesture that unnerved her. Was it pity? Yes, the laugh had an air of pity laced through it as if the good Doctor was laughing at a child who didn't understand the intricacies of the world.

"Moira, dear..."

The agent's mouth went dry instantly and her heart rate accelerated. She was starting to understand in the back of her mind why none of this felt right. Why the operation to capture the violent criminal had gone off without a hitch. Why he had been so well behaved in his transfer to the underground facility in Red Ridge. Why they had experienced barely any casualties... After years of experience, the intuition that had seemingly evaded her in her apparent victory finally started to surface as soon as Kane said her name- not the alias that she had used for the past 10 years as an SI: 7 agent, but the name given to her at birth. Before he could finish speaking she slammed her closed fist into the red button the gnomes had installed for emergencies and the interrogation room became bathed in red flashing lights as the alarm sounded. But before her hand could reach the blunderbuss by her side- the Doctor, fully transformed was upon her, then... darkness.

Part II

"By the light of Elune…"

Shal'adra stepped tentatively out of the mechanical lift into the lower levels of the interrogation ward. A smell of copper still wafted about in the air like a haunting miasma. The bodies of dozens of blood laden agents laid ravaged about the hall. Some recognizable, others so mutilated, the senior agent could not even distinguish which body parts belonged to whom.

The metal hall of the supposedly secure ward was still bathed in red flashing lights, the alarm long since muted. The man behind her cleared his throat and Shal'adra glanced behind her apologetically, nodding respectfully to the aging, gruff, white-haired man who had been sent to the ruined headquarters not long after the prisoner, Kane Black had escaped.

"Once a monster, always a monster. I see…" The rough voice offered an evaluation of the senseless carnage ahead of them.

Shal'adra looked down quizzically at the man. He was tall for a human, standing at about 6'3, his posture still holding the air of a warrior- though age might have worn away such signs of other men. This one was, different…

He continued, "Have the agents top side been able to discover how Black managed his escape?"

Shal'adra promptly opened the brown file in her hand, flipping through the hastily written reports. The incident had only happened seven hours ago, and thus far everyone mobilized to the decimated Red Ridge Mountains branch had barely had time to catch their breath let alone evaluate and gather relevant intelligence- but they had done just that, leaving the lower levels untouched at the request of the specialist personally sent by Mathias Shaw himself.

"Save for a few bloodstained prints, sir- there is no evidence above us that give any relevant information of how he was able to catch everyone off guard…" She trailed off, scanning through the reports, that she knew had little to nothing to offer.

Her keen eyes widened briefly, as she registered something from the report she had just flipped through. She paused, sticking her thumb on the report and removing it from the rest. She read it in its' entirety. For some reason, this had not been brought to her attention the minute it was completed.

His dark green eyes swiveled towards her, his gaze penetrating in its' coolness. "You have something then?"

Shal'adra, taken aback- swallowed nervously. "There are only eight bodies above us, sir."

The man snorted, his eyes roving about the macabre scene ahead of him. "There are thirteen bodies here, including the agent in charge." He raised his ivory-bearded chin towards the interrogation room, the door kept ajar with Felva's body.

Shal'adra looked down at the specialist, and they exchanged a glance that cemented the suspicions she had about the incident even before they arrived on the scene.

"Sir, there should be-" She stopped, refusing to believe it- flipping through the files once more in case she might have overlooked something. She muttered to herself, "Only two killed in his apprehension, which means…"

His low eyes regarded her with a look of approval.

"Could he have-" she began to ask.

The specialist interrupted her coolly, "No, he has never taken a hostage in his entire career. Let us identify the bodies and see who has betrayed their King." He started to continue down the hall but paused- his boots stopping on the sticky crimson fluid below him.

"Oh, and Shal'adra…"

The agent looked up attentively. "Yes, sir?"

"Drop the sir. I'm retired. Just call me, Kraevis."

Part III

Shal'adra's cool glowing eyes watched the rookie as he paced back and forth in the upper levels of the compromised SI:7 HQ. His dark boots clapping against the hardwood floor beneath him. Cal had only a few months ago passed his initiation into the organization and had been assigned to Shal'adra to train by Jasper Fel.

Other agents hated taking on a shadow, but Shal enjoyed it. Seeing potential come into full bloom was one of the few things that never seemed to lose its' appeal in her long life. She had taken on many shadows in her time with SI:7 and to her gratification most were still active, alive and well. Which is why she supposed Mathias had continued to send new rookies her way to ensure the success of the Alliance's interests.

She snorted mirthfully to herself, watching the brown-haired young man's pensive face. He stopped his pacing, turning his attentive hazel eyes towards her in surprise.

"Yes?"

"I didn't say anything, Cal. But… if you continue pacing the way you are, you are going to wear the soles of your boots down to your feet." She smiled warmly, "Be calm, young one. All will be fine."

Cal arched an inquisitive eyebrow, his face the picture of derisiveness.

"All will be fine? How the fel is that? One of Azeroth's most notorious killers has infiltrated one of our headquarters, we have an agent who has apparently gone rogue and we don't even know what the point of all of this is! They didn't take a single file Shal… so far it looks as if this Doctor Black was just bored and wanted to brutally murder dozens of good agents for the fun of it!"

Shal'adra frowned understandingly. "He could have easily forged whatever documents he needed from the SI:7 files...He could know anything between the shipping routes for Allied supplies to the rotating security detail for King Wrynn, but I understand...Seeing what you witnessed here, so early on in your career can be... disconcerting"

Cal's face contorted in suppressed disgust. "I'm not frightened if that's what you are implying. I just…" He trailed off his bluster seeming to leave him as he exhaled a long shuddering breath.

"I've seen things, you know? Growing up like I did... Destitutes beat each other to death over a bottle of dwarven ale, bleeding bodies left in alleyways...I've seen people be murdered for nothing more than to prove that it could be done, but this...This isn't like any of that. This is evil Shal'adra. This is an inexcusable evil… Black isn't a demon or a scourge, he-he's just a man. A worgen sure but...only a man."

Before Shal even registered his presence she heard a gravelly voice comment from the open door.

"Black stopped being a man long before the fall of Gilneas. The transformation only helped show him for what he truly is, a beast. And we'll track him, and put him down just like one. Shal'adra…"

The senior agent stood to attention but relaxed at the raised eyebrow of Kraevis, his features giving her a light scolding.

"We've identified the bodies as well as gone through a few of Felva's personal documents. It seems a few months ago a transfer was made. The twenty-fourth agent that was stationed here was assigned to HQ VI. Another agent was sent here to replace him. Which happens to be the one body we are missing."

Cal's grimly eager features glanced towards Shal then Kraevis. "Well good. At least we know who the bastard is. What's his name?"

Kraevis scrutinized the wood floor of the deserted command room a minute, clicking his jaw pensively before responding. "Shal'adra, does the name Fay'ron Talmen sound familiar? His SI:7 alias- Zaul?"

Shal'adra felt a pang in her chest upon hearing the name of one of her former shadows. She felt her face twitch in disbelief, and her lip began to quiver ever so slightly as she began to respond. She paused as Kraevis nodded his head in understanding.

"I thought so… it seems for whatever reason the high elf sabotaged Black's restraints and managed to mute the alarm for the upper levels. Upon inspecting the bodies below we were able to find a number of peculiar chemicals in their bloodstreams. I would wager whatever the traitorous agent gassed them with below, it sedated them to the point where they never stood a chance against Black's onslaught…"

Kraevis paused, his lips moving beneath his white mustache as if he were pondering something.

"Tell me, what was Fay'ron's specialty when you were training him?"

Shal'adra, whose mind had still been processing the shock of her former pupil's betrayal focused on Kraevis' dark emerald eyes. Her own narrowing in barely subdued anger.

"Alchemy."

Kraevis grunted as if he assumed as much all along. "I see. Well, pack up agents. We just received word a high elf and a middle-aged dark-skinned human male have entered Darkshire a few hours ago … we haven't a second to lose."

Cal raised out his hand as Kraevis turned around to depart, trying to get his attention as he spoke up.

"Sir- I- I mean Kraevis. We still don't know why Black went through the trouble of getting caught, to begin with. Shouldn't we find out before we send a kill squad after him?"

Kraevis, his back still turned swiveled his head towards Cal as he responded. "If we move with haste, it won't matter either way..."

Part IV

"Black, I don't see how this stop is in any way beneficial to us. Do you really believe SI:7 is so sloppy as to not alert nearly all of its' agents to our presence? Are you trying to get us caught?"

A crackle of thunder sounded above them as the blue reflection of lightning illuminated their path into Darkshire momentarily. Heavy rain pattered against them so incessantly, Fayron's skin was slick with the cold rainfall, his dark leather armor soaked through so entirely he faintly heard the squishing of the moisture as they continued deeper into the sleepy town.

Upon learning of Black's route to rendezvous with their contact in Bogpaddle, Fayron had been slowly growing more skeptical of the idea with every step they took towards the well-guarded town. Even before entering Darkshire, the two had already encountered several Night Watchers, all eyeing them with a look Fay'ron did not like.

We've probably already been made. He thought as they passed yet another Watcher.

The human did not answer, nor did he acknowledge Fayron even said anything to begin with.

Fayron, gently urged the reins of his horse towards Black as the man lead his own into the stables. He whispered harshly towards the dark male, "Black!"

Black's dark brown eyes darted behind Fayron, the assassin's low lids widening in something that looked eerily similar to a grin as his face lost its normally grim features and transformed into something unnervingly jovial.

"Doctor Black!"

Fay'ron's heart skipped a beat and instinctively he reached for his dagger but winced slightly at the excessively strong grip of Black's hand, tightening over his own. The joints of Fay'ron's fingers popping as he gripped the handle of the blade. The move was so subtle and quick Fay'ron didn't even register that the assassin moved.

"Trelayne! You are soaked to the bone woman. You couldn't wait for us to enter the inn?" The way in which the mannerism of Black changed into something so… normal baffled the high elf. He knew his face no doubt displayed his bewilderment.

"You haven't been through Darkshire in nearly a year, yes I came to greet you! How've you been? Who's your friend?"

Black finally released his grip on Fay'rons hand, allowing him to turn to see who was speaking, as the woman approached.

"Trelayne, this is an associate of mine, Zaul. Zaul, this is Trelayne, a close friend."

Fay'ron silently winced at the use of his SI:7 alias. A name he knew he would never be called again. He turned to see an attractive olive-skinned woman of about 5'9 approach the two. Her green eyes smiling in welcome.

"Zaul? Well, how do you do? A strange name for a high elf, if you don't mind me saying." She smiled warmly at them and despite himself Fay'ron couldn't help but return the gesture, holding out his aching hand. She took it and they shook, Black chuckling behind him.

"I see you still don't have a filter on that mouth of yours do you Trel?" Black took the reins of both horses and lead them to their individual stables, Trelayne rushed over to assist.

"Well, some things don't change. Like the fact you hardly ever write me."

Black looked at the woman, "I admit, that is something I need to work on…" He gave her a small smile.

"Twelve years and you still haven't gotten it down. I doubt you will now." She smiled teasingly at him. "I guess you really can't teach an old dog new tricks." The two laughed at the comment, and despite himself and the nervousness he felt at being in such a high surveillance town, Fay'ron allowed himself a small chuckle.

"Ah, this high elf has a sense of humor, what a change. Your kind is usually so uptight."

"Filter woman. Not everything you think has to be said."

She laughed harshly. "I know but what's the point of keeping it in? I don't live my life refusing to say what I feel…" Fay'ron glanced between the two, the green-eyed woman giving Black a stare so icy, Fay'ron nearly felt as if a cold breeze had found its' way into the smelly stable.

Black didn't answer, merely putting down a bucket of water in front of his horse, before continuing to wipe the animal down, removing some of the moisture from the beast's hair.

Trelayne turned to Fay'ron, "Zaul, how about you get yourself set up at the Scarlet Raven? You passed it on your way here. Take a seat, ask the Barkeeper, Hann for a drink, and tell him it's' on me. Kane and I will take care of your horse. We'll be over shortly and I will get you two set up with your rooms."

Fayron glanced between the two, removing the satchel of SI:7 documents from his horse's saddle and slinging it over his shoulder to rest on his waist.

"Thank you, I appreciate it...are you certain-"

She waved him away good-humoredly. "Go go, we'll be there soon enough. Don't worry the citizens of Darkshire won't bother a fine specimen such as yourself, gracing our sleepy town."

Fay'ron caught Black nod affirmatively as he continued taking care of his horse, and Fay'ron allowed himself a gracious smile, bowing in thanks. "Yes' ma'am."

Upon stepping back into the skin biting cold of Darkshire's near constant rainfall, Fay'ron eyed a Night Watcher turn his gaze a tad too quickly away from the shabby barn. The darkly clothed guard continuing his patrol, a bit too hastily than Fay'ron thought was actually necessary. He exhaled irritably and allowed himself to fade into the shadow. It seemed yet another life had to be taken this day…

As he started forward, a hand snatched him from the darkness and he turned to see Black, his features now its' normal low eyed dead stare.

"The Inn...Elf." And with that, the salt and peppered bearded male made his way back into the inn. Leaving Fay'ron completely at a loss.

Part V

"Tell me…" Treylayne started as she eyed the dark-skinned male hauling the bulky saddle off of the brown and white Paint.

"Ohh, boy…" Kane responded as he hefted the saddle onto an outstretched beam, taking all his personal equipment and placing it in his satchel.

"Ooh boy, what?" Trelayne responded, half annoyed at her old friend's tone.

"Anytime you start a sentence with the phrase, Tell me…and your voice goes up two octaves I know I'm in for a difficult conversation." He laughed gruffly as he handed her a bale of hay, eyeing her with an expectant look. "Well get on with it woman, tell you what?"

Trelayne exhaled irritability, placing the hay down at her side, and deftly avoiding the horse's weight from slamming into her as the excited beast began gobbling at the proffered meal.

She placed a bucket of water next to Zaul's horse and closed the stall behind her carefully, eyeing Black with a look of suspicion.

"Why are you here Kane?"

The salt and peppered bearded male sniffed at the question. Cocking an eyebrow with a peculiar expression as if she had just asked him how many kobolds could fit inside a Magnaur's ass.

"Don't give me that look. I enjoy it when I see you but dammit Kane every time you visit someone else isn't far behind… and I'm left to cover your ass."

Save for the occasional neighing of horses, and the patter of rain, the barn was silent.

"Kane…" She could hear an edge of pleading in her voice and it angered her. She felt a momentary surge of righteous fury towards the good doctor. That this man could elicit such a response from her when she could barely summon a damn about the numerous reports regarding Azeroth's effort against the Legion's forces. That this man… this worgen could stir such feelings every time he darkened her doorstep. And she could never for the life of her understand why she never hated him for it. How he could show up out of nowhere, turn her life upside down, leave with almost no notice and for all her effort, all her heartache barely receive a letter of thanks for her misery. And how she would allow him to do it every time.

"Can't an aging man visit the few friends he has lef-"

Trelayne raised a trembling hand to silence the outpour of nonsense and paper thin excuses he should have known wouldn't work with her in the first place.

"Don't...Who's coming Kane?"

"It won't be like last time Trelayne. I won't put you in harm's way." Kane said, his dark eyes failing to hold her gaze. He shifted uncomfortably and exhaled motioning to the door. "The stench of this barn is killing me… Can we walk and talk?"

"No. Quit dodging the question… What job did you take?" She wiped away a bit of the rain from her brow that threatened to run into her eyes, regarding him intensely as the rogue ran his rough hands through his facial hair pensively.

"Black!" Trelayne shouted her patience all but dissipating at the enigmatic assassin.

"Goddammit Trelyane, giving you that information will not help you. I did not come here to use Darkshire as a haven. To lure my pursers here and dispatch them one by one like I have in the past, that is not my intention. Hell, it hardly ever is! I came because I wanted to see you. You know that. I haven't the slightest idea why you insist I say it! I actually do like to know those I care for are safe. That they are prospering…That they are happy. Will you allow me a night to enjoy the company of a friend without bringing my focus back to what I will have to deal with when all this is done. Allow me to be here. In this moment! To enjoy a drink, to converse… to-"

Kane's fury tapered off, and he began to brush past her toward the stable's entrance. She managed to place herself in between him and the door, placing her hands on his heaving chest.

"To what?" She looked up into his dark brown eyes and could faintly see the color of them shift between his natural brown and the worgen's violet. His expression of fury softened as they held each other's gaze and he issued a shuttering exhale, and with it, he seemed to deflate. For a moment he almost seemed vulnerable and it frightened her. That something or someone could make a man most considered to be the monster underneath the bed, afraid.

"Let me in Kane… I've never seen you this restless during a job. What has got you so concerned? Who is hunting you this time?"

He held her gaze for another moment before speaking and when he finally did, his low voice was barely a whisper.

"Kraevis..."

Part VI

"Kraevis…"

Cal whispered cautiously as he moved alongside the gruff white-haired specialist. Kraevis lowered his binoculars and turned his penetrating gaze towards him.

"Yes?" Kraevis asked curiously in a gravelly tone almost too low to be heard over the constant patter of hard rainfall.

Cal glanced behind him, as another of their party was ported to the staging ground SI:7 had constructed around the perimeter of Darkshire.

"If you don't mind me asking si-" Cal saw the aging man's worn features begin to contort and he quickly corrected himself. "-Kraevis. What did you do before you retired? As you put it…"

As Cal was speaking, lightning struck and a loud boom thundered over them as the dying light of the bolt painted Kraevis' face in a blue hue that gave the man a look like he was death personified. Cal suppressed a shiver.

"I was apart of a group of men tasked with keeping the citizens of the Alliance safe from horrors, not even the Banshee Queen herself would dare entertain."

Cal raised an eyebrow feeling a sense of strong curiosity despite the inappropriate timing. He glanced back checking for Shal'adra's location. Spotting her pointing the way for two newly arrived agents still getting their bearings after stepping out of a portal, Cal turned back to Kraevis, "So… You guy's hunted like, demons and rogue forsaken and what not?"

"No. We killed monsters."

Cal's brow furrowed curiously. "Like those creatures of the void I've been hearing talk of?"

"No... No, we didn't kill those types of monsters, not purposely anyway. The monsters we killed are those people tend to forget about when they are too worried about being victim to a demon invasion, or a horde incursion. Those monsters who otherwise would be free to wreck their havoc due to most of our forces consistently being tied up in defending from either the Horde or whatever supernatural threat presents itself after the last... Perhaps I misspoke. We Kul'Tirans often say what we mean, not what is necessarily accurate. What did I do before I retired? I killed men. Murderers, kidnappers, traffickers. Perhaps I misspoke, perhaps not. It was our job to kill what would otherwise be poisonous to our people if left unchecked. Yes... I might have killed men, but they were monsters all the same."

Cal glanced behind him and saw the mage portals were dissipating and the last of the agents were being debriefed, many already taking their positions- ready to engage.

"Back at the Red Ridge bunker, you spoke of Black like you knew him. Was he the one that got away or something? Did Shaw call you in because you have one last score to settle before you can live out the rest of your retirement in peace?"

Kraevis frowned as if considering. "He called me in because I have a promise to keep and I'm the best man for this particular hunt. Will this bring me peace? Doubtful. But there is satisfaction in knowing that before the night ends... the beast inside that tavern will have already died and Azeroth will be better for it."

Cal raised his eyebrows, at the cold fury underlining the weathered man's declaration.

"I have no doubt…" Cal said clearing his throat nervously as he glanced around him. "That was good thinking coordinating with Stormwind to send the mages along with us. Was that your call?" Cal asked.

Kraevis replaced the binoculars on his eye sockets and peered into the distance, "Shal'adra's. She suggested it to Mathias, I backed it. Dalaran sent us two of their finest within the hour. There are more mages now than back in my day, I didn't expect them to relinquish aid so easily."

Cal snorted derisively, "The Burning Legion nearly taking over Azeroth has many of the factions acting agreeably for now. But the threat is over, there's a sword the size of a mountain in Silithus and now there's a whole new resource to sway the balance of power. All that comradery will fade in time. In fact...I think it already has."

Kraevis turned to regard Cal intently in a way that made him shift uncomfortably under the man's gaze. "Shame when the young are already so cynical. Even if you're right."

Cal smiled crookedly.

"I also think you already know why Black slaughtered all of Red Ridge... And I get it, you can't tell us. But it's got to be something extremely sensitive if Dalaran sent you two mages within minutes of them being requested. Not to mention when we were traveling to Red Ridge I also got sight of a set of orders with the Windrunner's seal on them." Cal looked to his right to see Shal'adra nod signaling she was ready.

"We get to preserve the Alliance and you get to kill your monster all in one fell swoop. What a night this'll be."

Kraevis turned to regard the positioning of all their men, most of whom Cal hadn't even known were assigned to this mission. Agent Keil who had been part of the investigation unit to Red Ridge, and who was now presently next to Kraevis and Cal, signaled to the team directly across from them, using a gnomish flashlight, which Cal saw reflected back at them signaling from the brush across town- that party was ready as well. After a few more minutes everyone had confirmed their positioning, the multitude of squads merely waiting for Kraevis to give the signal.

Raising his right hand Kraevis peered through his binoculars as if waiting for something. After a few moments of tense silence, Cal could hear the restless murmurs of men and the croaking of frogs as they waited anxiously for the ready signal. Removing the binoculars from his eyes he pulled his handheld blunderbuss from between his leather belts and strode forward clenching his fist- signaling everyone to move out. Noticing as if the landscape around them were being physically distorted, Cal realized with a start that they had been surrounded by dozens of stealthed figures as they advanced forward to capture and kill the murderous criminal, Doctor Kane Black.

Part VII

Fay'ron shifted uncomfortably, still not quite adjusted to the clothes Trelayne had retrieved for him and Black. From what Fay'ron gathered they were probably Black's. The human, though not terribly tall, standing at only 5'11 had a physique to him that suggested years of physical training -the barely worn night clothes giving Fay'ron the appearance of a mana hungry Nightborne whereas the garments seemed to fit Black so well Fay'ron refused to believe it was coincidental.

"Oh stop fidgeting you lot are so vain." Trelayne teased from across the sitting area next to the bar in Darkshire's Inn.

Fay'ron frowned to himself, "We are not." But even as he said the statement it sounded weak. Fay'ron peered into his cup and frowned. "All gone…" He whispered to himself as Black and Trelayne laughed, and Fay'ron was dismayed to realize he was already too tipsy to deduce what exactly they were laughing at.

"What is it? Have I something on my face?" Fay'ron wiped his mouth before grinning to himself at the irony of the situation, encouraging even more raucous laughter.

"Yes, yes. Very funny. I think I've had enough."

"Afraid to let your guard down?" asked Trelayne accepting another drink from Hann.

An aged man by the name of Smitts nodded his balding head in thanks as he accepted a foaming mug from Hann and took a seat near Fay'ron.

"So…" He began before taking a lengthy pull from his mug. "...what in Arthas' ass brings you back to Darkshire, Black? How many bodies you plan on leaving in my inn tonight? Last time it was somewhere around nine. I'm not quite sure because a few of them seemed to be missing crucial bits that are helpful for identification. Haven't seen that much carnage since my time as a field medic back before you were even thought of." Smitts eyed Black expectantly as he took another lengthy pull of his beer.

Black smiled cynically, scratching his salt and pepper beard as he nodded understandingly. "Fair enough. So how have you been holding up Smitts? I see the inn's still in business so I guess it can't be all that bad."

Fay'ron watched Black's dark eyes glance at every patron or citizen entering or leaving the tavern as he occasionally scrutinized the entrance behind where Fay'ron was sitting. Fay'ron exchanged a glance with Black, hoping his expression conveyed the message he intended. Have we been made? Fay'ron noticed Trelayne catch the expression and she turned and regarded Black with a scolding expression only he and Black could see, from their position. Raising his eyebrows Fay'ron felt a sense of pity for any man who would leave her scorned.

Pretending he wasn't being regarded with a look of ire that would frighten lesser men, Black turned and gave Trelayne a reassuring smile before turning his attention back to Smitts who was answering Black's misdirection of a question.

"How perceptive of you. You noticed your recurring bouts of savage violence hasn't shut us down." He nodded to Hann and raised his mug and a moment later Smitts was pulling hard on another mug of foamy alcohol.

"I'm going to take a wild guess and say you haven't even tried to find another line of work?" Smitts asked sardonically.

Black issued a mirthful grunt. "No… No, I haven't." He admitted in a tone that Fay'ron thought might have had a hint of regret to it, or he imagined it did.

"I swear if I see one drop of blood on these immaculate floors. It'll be your pelt we're all drinking around." Smitts bent down to run his index finger on the wood floor next to the Bear pelt positioned in between the six chairs, three on either side of the dead animal. He placed the digit on his tongue, "You could eat off these floors, Kane. No blood."

"Don't be disgusting, Smitts." Said a young lady, Fay'ron had heard be called Mabel. She sat down next to Fay'ron between himself and Smitts.

"Mabel." She said to Fay'ron, her hand outstretched.

"Zau… You know what? Pardon me, just call me Fay'ron." He said with a wistful smile. Fay'ron exchanged a glance with Black who gave him a curious expression before waving it off with an apathetic shrug.

"Hann take a rest, only people in here are us and our regular patrons who are always here... instead of drinking at home like normal folk!" Mabel said, her voice rising as if to communicate her point to their patrons. "And I'll have whatever Black is drinking."

She gave a teasing smile to Black and he responded in kind with a gruff issue of mirth.

"So… how long are you in town for Kane? A week? A day? A night?" She gave Trelayne a mischievous smile.

"I believe we will be heading out with the rising sun." Fay'ron answered as he glanced at Black for confirmation. He did his best to not allow Black's lack of response trouble him.

"Here you go Solaj," said Hann, handing her a mug of what Fayron already knew to be Melon Juice.

Fay'ron fought to hold back his laughter at Mabel's dismayed expression when she looked down into the sizeable mug.

"Kane, you're drinking juice? You are absent for nearly a year and all of a sudden you're a juice drinking worgen? I'm sorry, are you five?"

Fay'ron regarded everyone around him interestingly as they conversed and laughed amongst themselves and he felt himself grow curious as to how a man such as Black should be so friendly with these people, or people in general for that matter. He turned his head to Mabel, whispering under his breath as to not interrupt Smitts and Black's back and forth of slyly worded insults and their rebuttals.

"Would you like me to make you an actual drink Mabel? We High Elves have a way with wine. If you show me your stock I'll see what I can do for you..."

She gave Fay'ron a crooked smile and motioned with her head towards the bar as she stood, excusing herself, leading Fay'ron to the bar by the hand.

"Here is our supply. Will this suffice?" She motioned with her hand to the numerous bottles of alcohol from all across Azeroth and even a bottle or two from what could be either Outlands or Draenor.

Fay'ron tilted his head a degree to the left giving an impressed smile. "I think this will do just fine. Tell me, are you looking to turn in early this evening, or looking to enjoy the night?" He asked pulling out two bottles he was sure he could make something interesting with.

"I can't do both?" She asked regarding him teasingly.

"I'll see what I can do." He said taking a mixer and crushing a bit of ice. "So tell me, I have never really traveled to this region of The Eastern Kingdoms- What does a girl like you do to keep from succumbing to boredom?"

"I don't know. I can't say I have that problem. When I was a child and I'd complain to my father about being bored, he would turn to me with this really stern look and he would twitch his big bushy mustache and say, Mabel the only people who get bored, are boring people and those too lazy to realize there is too much in this world to do or read about to be bored." Mabel issued an infectious giggle, causing Fay'ron to chuckle along. "Then he would shoo me away and say Go play or read a book. And I did just that."

Fay'ron gave an impressed frown, "Your father would allow you to play out in those woods? Black and I must have seen at least seven spiders the size of Tauren out there. You were either very resourceful or very lucky."

As Fay'ron poured his mixture into a glass, he coated the edges in arcane powder, priming it to act as nothing more than a venerable spice for the drink he had concocted for Mabel.

"No, no, no. I didn't grow up in Darkshire, this is just where I am at the moment, with some thanks to that man over there."

She glanced at Black, smiling slightly. "I grew up in Westfall. Which had its' own dangers, but thankfully none of them were giant spiders."

She said, and Fay'ron could see a glint of interest in her eyes as he finalized his work. He opened a few drawers behind the bar and found one stocked with paper umbrellas and grabbed one, placing it in the glass with reverence.

"Ah, yes I am familiar with the area. Westfall has had a troubled past, but I suppose that is neither here nor there- I couldn't name one region in all of Azeroth that hasn't had a troubled past." Fay'ron turned and presented a warm smile, "Mabel I present you with a Sel'mari Elror'ei, which translates to The Coming of Sunshine on Rainy Days, more or less. Please give me your honest evaluation of my work. It's been some time since I've put my bartending skills to use. I could be quite rusty.

Mabel leaned on the bar, accepting the drink with her ever-present smile that always seemed influenced by some mischievous thought. "Why thank you, Fay'ron."

After the initial sip, Fay'ron felt a surprising sense of pride at her positive reaction to the mixture. "You have a way, I'll give you that much." She said, taking another dainty sip of the mixture.

"None for yourself?" she asked, her expression holding a sense of guilt.

"No, no, I'm afraid I've reached my limit for the night. But please, enjoy, I'll gladly make you another if that proves to be unsatisfactory." Fay'ron said ambling from behind the bar as if he intended to return back to the conversation between Black, Trelayne, Smitts and Hann. He allowed himself a wondering glance and turned to Mabel, but before he could voice his inquiry she had already begun to voice hers.

"Are you from Quel'thalas?" She asked, and it seemed to Fay'ron as if there was a sense of cautiousness to the question. Which was expected when nearly referencing the topic of the fall of a whole society of people.

Fay'ron frowned. More so at the relevance of the question than anything else. He noticed Mabel react to his expression, her features falling apologetically.

"Of course you are. I'm sorry I even asked. I was just a bit curious, you see I've always been interested in the histories of different races. Human's have always had such a colored past. I think growing up... often when I was told to go entertain myself at the behest of my father- I went in search for books that would prove that there were a people out there who were better than we were, who wasn't as cruel. Seeing the effects of the troubles that befell us in Westfall only fueled my search."

Fay'ron shook his head reassuringly, "It's' fine. No need to feel sorry. The past is the past, we can't change it-" Fay'ron tilted his head a degree to the left, as he thought how incorrect that statement was. "Well, not unless you have the assistance of the bronze dragonflight, but even then…" Fay'ron chuckled to himself softly. "We Quel'dorei do regret what has happened to our people. Those of us that remain are split between multiple factions and the distance between us seems to grow only wider by the day…" Fay'ron trailed off his mind returning back to the mission at hand before willing himself to return back to the conversation, smiling wistfully. "So, of all the races you studied, did you ever find one who met your standards as being better, than your people?" He asked curiously.

Mabel shook her head regretfully. "Maybe the Tauren… but even then… They too have their bad seeds. No, I eventually came to the conclusion that there were only differences, none were actually better, only flawed in their own unique way."

Fay'ron allowed his gaze to drift to Black who to Fay'ron's surprise turned around as if feeling his gaze on the back of his neck. His dark brown eyes glanced between Mabel and Fay'ron before giving them both a knowing grin before turning around.

"Some more than others it seems, but yes. We're flawed all the same." Fay'ron's eyes fell and he raised them to see Mabel scrutinizing him from behind her nearly empty glass.

"Have you known him a while?" She asked, motioning to Black with a slight jerk of her head.

Fay'ron shook his head. "No. I can't say I have. I don't even think I can say I know him now, I've merely been in his vicinity. Until we arrived here, I would have never fathomed a man such as Black could have people who..." He hesitated not wanting to be too blunt with his opinion of Kane.

"Care for him? Yes, upon first meeting him I can see how you might only see a killer. I know what that's like. But I'll say this much, I think you'll find if you stay in his vicinity long enough… you'll know all you need."

Fay'ron suppressed a shiver, thinking back to the trail of bodies Black left in his escape from Red Ridge. "I wonder if I'll get the chance…" He said, not daring to glance at the man should he get Black's unwanted attention. Feeling as if he had laid down the necessary pleasantries to ask what he had intended all along, he continued. "Forgive me for asking but, how did you lot come to know him as you do?"

Mabel seemed to study him for a long moment, her eyes narrowing at the inquiry, her face a shade redder than when they had first made their way to behind the bar. "We all met Black at different times in our life. For me, I suppose I was able to know him by pure luck, circumstance, and...I guess- I just stayed in his vicinity long enough," she said, smiling her mischievous smile.

Part VIII

"Chin up dear. No matter how bleak these coming moments might look... All you must do is remind yourself- you can't see the future." The clean-shaven dark-skinned man with low eyes said to Mabel, giving her a reassuring smile, despite the blood coating his teeth. She had never seen this man before, maybe he was a newcomer or a traveler. Either way, his fate was no different than the rest of them, bound by rope in the same way all the adults were, on their knees, at the mercy of these men Mabel had heard referred to as the Defias. She nodded absently, still dreading the moments to come.

Sniffing hard, her hands balled together and pressed to her chest, the drum of her heart seeming to almost hurt due to its rapid beating, she looked around her worriedly. All the grown-ups had been bound and those not currently on their knees due to the savage beatings they were taking, soon would be.

The man who had been screaming at them for the past several minutes, clad in black leather and a mask covering his lower face knocked another man across the head and Mabel jumped as she heard the crack of the weapon hit the man's skull, his body falling with a soft thump on the hardwood floor. She glanced at him, it was Mister Fortner, he was always nice to her and her father, giving them deals on any materials her father might need for his forge and slipping her an extra piece of candy when she came to pick up his orders. She stared at him, fixated. Watching as blood pooled from a soggy patch from his head.

"Welp. That one isn't breathing anymore…" Said another one of the men, pacing as he regarded each of them with a look Mabel thought seemed too happy for what was transpiring. The man Mabel assumed to be the men's leader began to speak.

"I consider myself a very patient person. But it has its limits. You might think I like beating the ever living fel out of all of you, but I really don't. I just want to settle this so I can go back to doing my job, so I don't get the ever living fel beat out of me... So I ask again and for all your sakes I best get a satisfactory answer. Which of you spineless simpletons alerted Stormwind to our presence?"

The man paused, turning as if to regard everyone. His eyebrows raised expectantly. He turned on his heel as a voice began speaking. The voice coming from the man kneeling right next to Mabel. The man with the dark skin, low eyes, and the confident smirk.

"Why do you assume they were tipped off? Maybe they could smell you. Westfall has stunk of filth ever since you, and your shit excuse for a Brotherhood migrated to this quaint little region." He turned his head towards her, smiling apologetically. "Pardon my language, dear." He turned his attention back to the man rapidly approaching them and Mabel turned her head away as to not see him be hit. She heard their captor's gloved hand hit what she could only guess was the man's jaw. When she turned around Black was smiling, blood running freely from his mouth.

"You must like getting hit. This is the second time your little outburst has resulted in you losing a bit more blood. That wasn't the answer I was looking for... So, I think I'll make an example out of you."

The dark skinned man issued a hoarse chuckle, crimson liquid streaming from his mouth as he did so. "Are you insinuating that savagely beating all these people and killing that nice fellow right over there wasn't you making an example? Oh my… Well then, I can't wait to see what else you have in mind."

Her lip quivering Mabel glanced worriedly between the newcomer and their captor. Their captor caught her glance, and an expression Mabel couldn't quite decipher came over the man's face as he regarded her. He turned his attention back to the stranger next to her, whose expression had grown serious. His brow furrowed angrily. "Don't even..." He bit out, but before he could finish Mabel found herself being pulled by the collar of her dress and dragged to the middle of the room.

"No!" She screamed out, not understanding what she had done to make their captive angry. Mabel heard the protest of multiple people as she was being dragged across the hard floor, but they were soon silenced as two of their captor's men made a move towards them.

"Oh, hush. None of that. You all have had your chance…" Mabel looked up at the Defias member to see him regarding the dark-skinned stranger.

"Tell me, friend. What's your name?"

The stranger's expression grew dark, his eyes narrowing hatefully as he regarded the man gripping her tightly. Mabel felt herself shaking violently, her fear seeming to close her throat. Even as she tried to cry for help she could only utter strained squeaks.

"Black."

"Tell me, Mister Black-"

"Doctor." He corrected, regarding Mabel intensely.

"As if it matters anymore." The man wrapped his hands around the back of Mabel's neck and a second later she felt the point of a blade press lightly against her cheek.

"Please no…" She heard herself whisper. Still shaking she felt something warm stream down her legs and with a sense of embarrassment she felt was out of place in her situation she realized she had peed herself.

"Pathetic…" The man gripping her said with palpable disgust. He gripped her neck tighter. "You know what? Forget it. I'm done wasting my time with you lot. Maybe after I show the others the corpse of a little girl I'll have better luck getting what I need." Hearing this threat, Mabel shut her eyes tightly hoping the pain she knew she was going to experience wouldn't last very long.

"Wait!" She heard the stranger bark. And for a brief second, there was silence.

"You have something to share with the class, Doctor Black?"

"Yes, yes...Let her go, and I'll tell you everything you need to know. I'll even tell you what Bolvar has planned for your leader... Just let her go, and we can disgust this like men."

Mabel could hear fear in the stranger's voice and that only made her fear all the more. She felt herself be thrown down forcefully onto the wet floor below, the weight of her captor's boot placed on her back, keeping her fixed.

"Do that Black, or I'll be forced to break her little neck with my boot. Like I said… I don't want to go through all this trouble. But I will. You have twenty seconds from the time I said boot. Make it quick."

"I will."

Hearing something that sounded like a puff a smoke, she felt the weight of her captive's boot be lifted from her and heard the unsheathing of blades as two bodies hit the floor with a dull thump.

"But not for you…" She heard Black's voice say and as she turned herself around, glancing up to look at what had prevented her captor from killing her. She saw the two prone bodies of the other Defias members and watched as Black- his hand around the back of her captor's throat place the tip of a dagger to his cheek, the blade placed on the man's black face mask.

"Tell me, friend. What's your name?" Black said regarding the man with a crooked smile.

"You damn-"

Black hushed the man soothingly, pressing the dagger through the man's mask, the black material of the cloth growing darker as the blade twisted about the man's face.

"No… No, none of that. What's your name?"

"Francis."

Mabel found herself fixated by the spectacle, ignoring the fact she was still half laying in her own urine.

"No last name?"

"Yolberd… Francis Yolberd."

Black nodded, frowning. "Horrid name. Well, Francis... tell me, where is Edwin Vancleef? I warn you, for your sake, you best give me a satisfactory answer."

"Why-"

Mabel watched as the Defias screamed in pain, the tip of the dagger plunging just a bit further through the man's mask. "I consider myself… a very patient man, but it has its' limits. Where is VanCleef?"

"In the Deadmines, he's in the Deadmines… he has a ship and-"

Before the man could say any more Black pulled him to the ground, maneuvering his own form in front of him as he moved his arm sharply, preventing Mabel from seeing what had happened as cries and gasps issued from the surrounding spectators.

"Had I known it would have been that easy. I would have done that from the start. Thank you, Francis." Black said to the gurgling convulsing man as he straightened glancing back at Mabel who starred horrified at the mutilated face of the Defias member, his wide mouth spilling crimson gore through the black torn mask as he rolled in a pool of his own blood.

"I'm sorry you had to witness that, my dear. I should have been more considerate. Now, let's find your parents, shall we?"

Part IX

"Things are coming to an end. I can feel it. Sense it as one senses the approach of an oncoming storm. As one might sense the death of a sickly loved one. Death approaches, and I don't know whether to fight the inevitable, stave it off as I've done so many times before… Or simply let it be. Let the cumulative results of my actions finally catch up, and try to balance the scales, but even then- it wouldn't be enough. Yet even as I consider it, I feel lighter… unencumbered, and the fact that such feelings should seem preferable to enduring… That such feelings should elicit a sense of peace… I know in my mind I've already made my decision."

Lightning struck outside the barn and Trelayne peered into Black's eyes searchingly, trying her best to understand what was going on in the aging rogue's mind. She shook her head, something occurring to her. "If Kraevis is the one coming after you… Why did you stop? Why didn't you keep going? Why come here? Why not find a mage to send you somewhere else? Anywhere else but here? If you think the Alliance is after you then allegiance be damned Kane, go to the Horde, you haven't been officially aligned with them since you left Kraevis' unit. Go to Pandaria, Outland, anywhere… Why did you stop if you knew this would only seal your fate?"

Trelayne watched Black intently, her eyes fixated on his as they seemed to be engaged in a scene playing out in his mind.

"Because you didn't deserve that," Black said his eyes seeming to return to the present, focusing on hers with an expression she had rarely seen displayed on his normally stoic features.

"Deserve what?" She asked, at a loss for whatever Kane was trying to articulate.

"I've done things that would haunt most men. Acts that would play like a broken record in even the most weathered of soldiers. I've murdered, tortured… betrayed. I am not a good man. Yet you care for me. You care for me, and I-" Kane broke off shaking his head as if searching for the correct words.

"I know I don't deserve it. I remember being in situations that I was positive would kill me and I never thought about any of those things that I'd done. The father's I had taken from their daughters, the son's I had taken from their mothers, the brothers I had taken from their siblings… The people my choices had affected, never crossed my mind in those seemingly last moments. It was always you. And the thought that you would think I abandoned you. That I didn't care for you, as you do me. I do. I believe that is the only thing that keeps me human, is you. You deserve better, and I wish I could give you better… But I can't. Sure I could have ran, I could have made sure I completed my contract and saved my own skin. But why? What would I be living for if I knew I could never see you again."

Trelayne hit Black's chest furiously, tears streaming down her face. "You fool! I could have found you, I could have-"

Black shook his head regretfully. "You would have thrown away the life you've built for nothing. Kraevis never would have stopped looking for me...I never would have stopped doing what I do. Not even for you, and I know that. This is all I am, all I'll ever be. I don't know anything else. I don't know how to be anything than what I am. So this is my last job. This is my last night, and I am exactly where I need to be. With you."

Trelayne let Black's words seep in as she stared up at him, and he gave her a solemn smile.

"I plan on spending the rest of my life with you dear. That is the least I can do, for what you've given me."

"Given you?" Trelayne asked, wiping the tears away from her face with the palms of her hands.

Black nodded, turning around to gather the rest of his belongings. "Yes."

He slung a sack over his shoulder and motioned towards the door with his head, the two of them walking shoulder to shoulder as they exited into the pouring rain outside.

"Given you what?"

She eyed Kane curiously as they trudged towards Scarlet Raven Tavern. She caught a ghost of a smile flash across his features as lightning struck overhead.

"A home. You've given me a home."

Trelayne eyed Black, sitting next to her as he and Smitts berated each other in a way that never escalated above darkly humored playfulness. He caught her glance and smiled affectionately. As Fay'ron and Mabel returned from behind the bar after their lengthy conversation Hann pulled out a pocket watch and raised a hand to get their attention.

"It's about that time, Kane." He said solemnly.

Trelayne caught Fay'ron's and Mabel's expression, aware of the fact that Kane had decided to not alert them to what was about to happen.

Kane grunted in affirmation, and the levity that had appeared on his face not seconds before was gone, now replaced with his mask of stoic, apathy. "Came sooner than expected." He said, standing.

"The patrons?" Black asked, eyeing Smitts, who was now eyeing Black with a look of regret.

"Yeah, I got em," Smitts said, grunting as he stood. Ambling over to the few patrons still left in the inn, Trelayne watched as Smitts handed them their glasses and shooed them out the door, saying something she couldn't quite hear to get them out before turning to blow the candles out on the tables near the entrance.

Fay'ron regarded Black incredulously his blue eyes wide. "Black?"
Mabel turned towards Trelayne, her concerned expression glancing between her and Black. "Kane…"

As Mabel shouted her protest, Hann and Smitts tried to lead her to the cellar, but lost grip of her, Mabel rushed towards Black, embracing him tightly, her arms wrapped around his waist.

Trelayne watched Black regard Mabel expressionless before allowing a small smile to penetrate his stoic gaze. "Chin up dear."

Without saying another word, Mabel nodded understandingly and followed Hann's outstretched hand motioning gently towards the kitchen that led to the cellar below.

Hann gave Black a solemn nod and disappeared around the corner.

"Black! What are you doing? What's-"

Glancing towards Fay'ron with an expression Trelayne couldn't catch, the high elf fell silent a moment, his features contorting in an expression of barely suppressed concern.

Smitts strode up to Kane and grasped his forearm and pulled him close, whispering something to him Trelayne had no hope of hearing. Stepping back to regard Kane, Black gave a sardonic snort.

"Goodbye Smitts."

They gave each other a quick embrace and Smitts walked past Trelayne sniffing stoically. Halfway through the entrance to the door leading to the kitchen, Smitts turned around and regarded Trelayne. "I'll see you in a moment. Light be with you."

"I'll be down shortly," Trelayne said, and as she did she struggled to keep her voice from cracking.

"I'll be by the passage door waiting for the elf when he's ready," Smitts said to Black before patting the edges of the doorway in departure, disappearing around the corner.

Fay'ron touched his mouth nervously his hands falling to his hips as he glanced between Kane and Trelayne, "Would anyone like to clue me in on what is happening here? Black, we have to-"

"Plan remains the same, Fay'ron. You'll continue on as we originally planned, our contact will be at the boat when you arrive. Depart with him and you'll receive asylum once you reach your destination. I hope this was all worth it for you. Run upstairs and retrieve the plans we stole. I doubt we have long until Kraevis arrives with all of SI:7 in tow."

Fay'ron's expression lost some of its' anxiousness and something akin to admiration began to play about his features. "You're buying me time…"

Black's eyes motioned upwards. "Go."

Fay'ron nodded affirmatively, rushing upstairs without comment.

Ambling towards the lobby, Black took a chair and used it to douse the candles hanging from the chandeliers above, casting the tavern in even more darkness. Trelayne likewise blew the candles out on the tables below, helping him prepare for the onslaught to come. Trelayne walked towards the fireplace preparing to douse it as well before stopping at the behest of Black.

"Leave it. I'd like to see his face when he comes in. I want to be able to look him dead in the eye when he arrives. I want to see the man he has become, and in turn, I want him to do the same. He's come here to kill one last monster. I want him to see, reflected in my own eyes… There'll always be one he has yet to kill."

Before Trelayne could reply she heard the rapidly approaching footsteps of Fay'ron sprinting down the stairs, his gear still damp but mostly dry from sitting in front of the fire for most of the night. He stopped in front of Black whose eyes were now glowing a violet hue, the worgen's fury bubbling beneath Black's calm facade.

Fay'ron reached out his hand towards Kane, regarding him with an expression of genuine gratefulness. "Thank you, Dr. Black." He said appreciatively.

Black gave Fay'ron a lingering stare that lasted a few seconds. After reaching into his pocket Black extended his arm out to grasp the high elf's outstretched hand, something metal clicking in their embrace as their hands met. "You made a hard choice, choosing the path you did. No matter how it unfolds never regret what we've done here. Regret cheapens the sacrifices you've made to get to where you are. Never entertain it. Understood?"

Fay'ron gave a slow understanding nod, glancing at the object in his hand with a look of understanding. "Yes, sir." He turned to Trelayne, and gave a small bow, "Thank you, Trelayne…" She nodded in turn and without waiting for a response he turned and departed towards the kitchen to the cellar below, leaving Trelayne and Black alone in the darkness of the tavern lobby. The two sat in silence a moment before Black made his way to his leather armor, ambling towards the fireplace his gear was still situated in front of.

"Well…Whenever you're ready." Black said removing his shirt and fitting his fingerless gloves to his hands.

"I got it," Trelayne said as Black equipped the rest of his gear. She issued a heavy sigh, walking outside to blow out the lanterns situated in front of the tavern. Feeling a cold gust of wind hit her she looked out to see the town devoid of all its' inhabitants. Not even the Night Guard could be seen as she peered outside. Walking further into the center of town she noticed the Gnarltree's forge had shut down, which struck her as odd due to Morg making a habit of working throughout the night. Suppressing a shiver she returned to the inn's entrance and reached to her left pulling shut the door that signaled the tavern was closed for the foreseeable future and locked it. She returned to see Kane fully prepared, his gaze staring at a scene only visible in his mind's eye.

A moment later they found themselves sitting next to each other on the stairs, watching the hall that led to the entrance of the tavern in silence. Trelayne turned to see Black inhale deeply, exhaling in a slow controlled manner before clenching his jaw, a solemn expression coming over his features.

"They're here." He turned to her, grasping her hand softly. "Time for you to go..."

Trelayne felt a pang in her chest as she glanced wide-eyed at him. Despite knowing where this night would lead she still felt a sense of unreality even as the moment approached. She felt a need to say something in farewell. To say something to sum up everything this man, this rogue meant to her. But she couldn't, her unspoken words seemed to get caught in her throat. It was if everything she's ever wanted to say to Kane since the day he and his unit had first stepped foot in Darkshire ten years ago urged to be spoken at once, and she could do nothing but lick her lips nervously and embrace him tightly. She felt her tears stream down her face and onto his shoulder as she gripped him.

"I guess I shouldn't wait up for a letter this time, huh?" She said standing, wiping her face with a smile that somehow felt genuine despite her conflicting feelings.

Kane looked up at her his violet eyes returning to their natural brown as he gazed at her- still grasping her hand. "Probably not," Kane said with a half-hearted chuckle. Patting her hand in farewell, Kane released his hold on her as a series of bangs issued from the front door of the tavern.

Turning to depart she found herself thinking back to everyone's last farewells, Trelayne turned to Kane, her eyebrows raised curiously.

"What did Smitts tell you before he left?" She asked, over the increasingly forceful bangs.

Black's eyebrows rose as if trying to convey that this was not the time for such questions. Smiling tightly he glanced at her from the side of his eye, now turning violet again before answering.

"He said, I'll see you soon."

Part X

Striding into Storm Raven's Tavern after breaking down the reinforced door, Cal and the rest of his unit followed Kraevis into the darkly lit tavern to see Black sitting by himself on a set of two stairs that were situated in front of the tavern's kitchen. The fireplaces still roaring to the man's right and behind him cast Black in an ominous light. The assassin appearing almost like a black silhouette with violet eyes. Cal grimaced to himself in disgust at the man's apparent calmness, watching as the killer regarded them expressionlessly.

The specialist and the assassin regarded each other silently for a moment before Kraevis spoke, his gravelly voice issuing a dark greeting.

"Black."

The killer sat on the stairs silently another few seconds before responding.

"Kraevis."

Black, eyed the members of SI: 7 without interest as they slowly encompassed him. Kraevis raised his hand to hold their position.

"Careful. That'll do."

Cal situated himself to Kraevis' left, eyeing Black curiously as he did. Taking a moment to examine him Cal found himself somewhat unimpressed with what he saw. Black was physically imposing, sure. His muscles well defined even in the dim light under his armored leather harness, but like Cal had mentioned to Shal'adra earlier- he was only a man. The glowing eyes of the doctor regarded him briefly before returning to rest on Kraevis.

"How have you fared, old friend?" Black said, his stare seeming to be engaged in a battle of wills with Kraevis.

Kraevis issued a gruff snort. "Better than you will in the next few minutes. I assure you that."

Cal watched a small almost unnoticeable smile play across Black's grim features. Black's violet eyes glanced at the approaching figure briefly before again returning his gaze to Kraevis. Cal turned to his right to see Shal'adra approach with a few members of her unit following behind her.

"The tavern has been surrounded, Kraevis. Orders?"

Kraevis glanced towards the stairway that lead to the second level above. "Have your men look upstairs. Take care to watch your footing." He said, giving Black a knowing glance.

"And the kitchen behind him?" Shal'adra asked her voice coated in steel. Kraevis raised an ivory eyebrow at Black, regarding him expectantly.

"Be my guest," Black said with an apathetic shrug, remaining where he was.

Shal'adra exchanged a cautious glance with Cal who seemed just as perplexed about the way this operation was unfolding. He had expected much more resistance, seeing how this was the criminal responsible for killing dozens of good men at Red Ridge.

Cal looked around his face contorting in displeasure. "Where's Zaul?" He said eyeing the still sitting assassin.

Shal'adra seemed to echo this concern, her eyes roving over the abandoned tavern with evident concern.

"His usefulness had run its' course. I'm sure in time you'll find what's become of him. Though it might take you a while." Black chuckled darkly and in it Cal could hear something feral in the show of mirth.

Shal'adra took a step towards him and Kraevis raised a hand in warning. "Careful…"

Cal could see Shal'adra struggle to maintain her composure, her features growing tight as she regarded the male with a hateful gaze. Cal suppressed a shiver, he had never seen his mentor appear so furious and even though he understood why, it was unsettling to see nonetheless. Apparently realizing how out of character she was behaving, Shal'adra glanced at Cal as covertly as she could and stepped back positioning herself in front of one of the tables. Cal noticed she made sure she was in clear line of sight of the assassin, in case he tried anything.

The agents who were waiting to pass by Black glanced at Kraevis, waiting for the order to check the kitchen behind him. Kraevis still holding the handheld blunderbuss, motioned with the gun towards the table.

"Take a seat Black. I have some questions to ask before I put you in the ground."

"I'm fine here, thank you." Black glanced around eyeing the agents cautiously waiting to pass. "Go ahead. I'm not gonna bite… yet."

Kraevis gave the agents the go ahead with an incline of his chin and the agents circled around Black, being careful not to get too close as they disappeared into the kitchen. Cal could hear the agents upstairs loudly rummaging through what Cal assumed to be the Inn's dressers and wardrobes, looking for whatever it was Black had taken.

Glancing to his left Kraevis sauntered over and grabbed a wooden chair underneath one of the tables and approached Black setting the chair about seven feet in front of the assassin before taking a seat. Kraevis cocked the gun in his hand as he spoke.

"Been a long time coming, hasn't it?"

Black issued a mirthless snort. "If you've been thinking about it all that time, I suppose it has. You've barely crossed my mind over these past eight years, old man. Glad to know I was always on yours." He gave Kraevis a warm smile, it falling away seconds later into an expression of amusement.

"Still a smartass I see," Kraevis said in reply.

"Yeah… And you still sound like a chain-smoking pirate. I guess we really haven't changed all that much now have we?"

Cal who found himself ambling closer as to get a better point of view on the conversation saw the edges of Kraevis' eyes tighten in what could have been a smile before his head turned to the side as the agent upstairs came down, empty-handed. Agent Keil who had headed the search shook his head signaling that they had found nothing and turned to Black, watching the following procession with a curious expression.

Kraevis clucked his tongue sighing disappointedly. "Where is it Black?"

"Where is what?" Black said, tilting his head to the side as if genuinely perplexed. Not a second after the man had finished speaking Kraevis shot the handrail not two feet away from Black's head, the wood splintering out, somehow managing to miss the sitting assassin. Cal's eyes widened at the unexpected shot, the loud boom of the gun causing his ears to ring slightly. With some reservations, Cal found himself impressed with Black's demeanor. He never flinched.

"That's the last warning shot you get, Black. And don't even think of trying anything- I might be old but I'm still just as accurate with this gun as I've always been. Now let's try this again...where is it?" Kraevis said, cocking the gun once more.

Black glanced about the room before leaning forward slightly. Dropping his voice conspiratorially he gestured to the surrounding agents, "Is this something you're sure you want to discuss around the uninitiated?" He smiled darkly and Cal could see Kraevis give the statement some consideration. Opening his mouth to speak, Cal noticed a few of the agents who had gone to search the kitchen ease out of the room behind Black and stand in the doorway, signaling they too had found nothing of note.

Kraevis gave a snort wrinkling his face in an expression Cal couldn't tell was displeasure or a show of cynical mirth. "I never saw the workers leave, only the patrons. Yet they're all gone… Of course, they are." Kraevis narrowed his eyes and gave Black a look that communicated something only the two of them could decipher- Black giving a small smirk.

"Agent Keil get your best riders and procure a couple of the flight master's birds and do a thorough search of the surrounding area. Careful of the storm. The rest of our squadron should already be scouring the surrounding area- just in case."

"On it." Agent Keil gave a curt nod and made his way outside motioning to two agents to follow him as he departed.

"Oh, and everyone else can wait outside. I'll be out shortly..."

Cal noticed the room seem to freeze at the order, all the agents including himself glancing at one another with expressions of either surprise or confusion. Striding to Kraevis' side, being careful never to let Black leave her line of sight, Shal'adra was the first to speak up.

"Si-Kraevis…" She corrected herself glancing pensively at Cal who in turn ambled closer to the grizzled Kul'tiran. "With all due respect, I can't follow that order-"

Kraevis shook his head tiredly interrupting her, "It isn't an order agent. I'm not your commander. It is a request, at best. Shaw sent me here for a reason. This man and I- we've things to settle. I'd prefer to do it in private." Kraevis turned to Shal'adra. "Would you grant me this, Shal'adra?"

Cal noticed he was pacing slightly and stopped, glancing at Black with some sense of chagrin that their prey should see him behave as nervously as he felt. Black eyed him briefly before turning his attention back to Shal'adra and Kraevis who were regarding each other silently for a moment. Seconds later Shal'adra turned around and raising her voice, "You have your orders Agents. Make haste. Now!" She turned back around to regard Kraevis. "Kraevis you have five minutes. If you don't walk out that door within that given time-

"Ten."

As the agents slowly made their way out of the quaint tavern, Cal included he stopped, whirling around to see Shal'adra give the man an incredulous look. "Kraevis, I'm not leaving you alone that long with this murder for any more than-"

"He isn't going to kill me," Kraevis said turning his attention back to Black, still sitting on the stairs his arms resting on his knees. "He's here to be killed."

Shal'adra's mouth curled into something akin to a snarl and she leaned closer to Kraevis lowering her voice, "He's a liar, a manipulator, a murder and-"

"And I trained him. Believe me, there isn't a trick in the book he can pull on me that I haven't taught him. Ten minutes, and we'll be on our way."

Cal watched Shal'adra take a deep breath, letting it out slowly as she straightened. "You have seven. We'll be at the entrance. The moment we sense something has gone wrong- we're coming in, with force."

Kraevis nodded differentially, "Fair enough."

Shal'adra turned on her heel and motioned Cal to follow her, which he did without question, glancing back at the two figures, bathed in darkness as they headed towards the entrance. "One more thing," Kraevis said, turning around slightly, his gun still pointed towards Black. "Shut the door behind yah."

"Got it," Cal said, pausing to glance between the two. He eyed Black once more his expression growing into one of warning as he backed away from them. Shal'adra who was waiting for him around the corner sighed patiently as they reluctantly walked outside and slid close the broken door as best they could.

After waiting for what seemed like several minutes, the night's storm already seeming to be expressing its' last few minutes of rainfall- Cal finally turned to Shal'adra who had planted herself right in front of the splintered door, her gaze seeming to peer into the quiet night, and beyond- her eyes unwavering.

"I'm sorry about Fay'ron, Shal. I know you care a good deal about everyone you mentor… and whether he betrayed us willingly or not-" Cal shrugged trying to find the right way to phrase his condolences. "He didn't deserve to be discarded like that. Not from someone like him. I-" Cal shook his head struggling to find the right words.

"Thank you." Shal'adra said, her glowing azure eyes coming to rest on him with a kind expression he had gotten so used to over the course of his tutelage under her. They sat in silence a while longer and Cal found himself growing impatient. As he contemplated trying to spy on the two by entering through a window on the second level- he suppressed an urge to flinch at yet another loud boom sounding from inside the tavern. Before Cal even realized what he was doing he slid the door open and tried to rush in but found his progress halted by the strong but gentle grip of Shal'adra, her hand resting on the underside of his arm. He glanced back incredulously at her calm expression, and wondered why she wasn't rushing in with him. A second later he realized why when he heard the heavy footsteps of Kraevis sound against the wood floor as he appeared around the corner, tucking the blunderbuss into his leather belt, his face obscured by the darkness of night.

"Leave the body where it is. He'll be taken care of. Round up your agents, give them their closing assignments and let's go home. We have reports to fill. There's nothing more for us here." Glancing up, and extending the collar of his long jacket as he passed, Kraevis cleared his throat. "Another storm's coming and I'd rather we be elsewhere when it begins. I'm so dreadfully tired of all this rain." Without further comment, Kraevis stalked into the night, and as he watched the tall broad shouldered form of Kraevis disappear into the woods Cal felt a sense of confusion as he looked up. There wasn't a cloud left in the sky.

Part XI

Black eyed the young agent as he followed the night elf towards the tavern's exit. The young man eyeing him with an expression that could have doubled as a veiled threat if only looks could speak. A second later he heard the door shut behind the two agents, and he turned his attention back to Kraevis who regarded him with a mix of emotions, none Black could rightly place.

"Kid's got spunk," Black said, commenting on the agent's demeanor and the fact he was the only one save for the night elf who seemed to stare him down for most of the time SI:7 had occupied the tavern. Every time he would glance at any of the other agents their eyes seem to waver to other areas of the tavern as if making eye contact with him would physically endanger them.

Kraevis issued a gruff chuckle. "He reminds me a bit of you when I first recruited yah."

Black snorted derisively, "I'd hope not. He might be trouble." He smiled solemnly at his old commander.

Kraevis did not return the gesture, sitting silently for a moment before speaking. "Before we get to the real reason I'm here. Where are the assault plans?"

Kane sighed heavily. "I have a doctorate in engineering, Kraevis. Do you really think I took this job without first preparing a way to get those plans to my employer? If all went as planned, you couldn't catch up to them even if you knew where they were headed. I always fulfill my contracts. Did you really think I'd sully my reputation on one which I knew would be my last?"

Kraevis nodded pursing his lips underneath his ivory facial hair. "Figured as much. Truth is I knew those plans were out of our reach the moment they told me who stole them." Kane watched his old commander seem to deflate some as he regarded him. "Would you mind taking a seat? We've too much history for me to kill you while looking down at yah."

Black took a second to consider it and agreed, standing before making his way to the table nearest to the fire, taking a seat at the head of the table.

"I take it that poor girl is still giving you the time of day."

Black allowed himself a self-deprecating smile. "Afraid so."

"You know she's too good for you, don't you?" Kraevis said standing from his seat and taking one diagonally across from Black, giving Kane a good look at the old Kul'tiran's weathered features. He'd aged, much like Black had himself, but Kane was certain that the man was every bit as capable a fighter as he was the day he first recruited him in his lecture hall, at the University of Gilneas all those years ago.

"I told her as much," Black admitted, leaning back in his chair exhaling slowly.

"You understand why this has to happen correct?" Kraevis asked, regarding him searchingly.

"Without question. You're a man of your word." Kane said allowing his expression to hold an air of indifference.

Kraevis's features seem to grow tight as he regarded him. He slammed his open palm on the wooden table with a bang."God dammit boy. When will you take life seriously."

Black allowed himself an ironic smile. "At this rate, probably never. Unless I learn within the next few minutes...You know what they say about old dogs..." Kane chuckled lightly.

Kraevis glanced up at the ceiling annoyedly before turning his gaze back to Kane.

"You could have easily found a way to do this without getting caught. I taught you better."

"You're right. I could have. But I'm a creature of habit. And so are you. You hunt. I kill. It's ingrained in us. It's in our nature. You know that. You saw it the minute you laid eyes upon me. You knew what I was..."

"I saw potential. I saw a young man who needed guidance. If only I knew then, that I wasn't the right one to teach you. If only I knew what I'd be unleashing upon Azeroth."

Kane shrugged, "You saw what I did to those fanatics in Gilneas. If you had never come, I'd be a killer all the same."

"But maybe you wouldn't be so damned good at it."

Black issued a cynical exhalation of breath. "Do you actually blame yourself for your brother's death? Have you really convinced yourself, if you had never taken that assignment in Gilneas, Traevin wouldn't have fallen as deeply into despair as he did? Maybe his view of the world wouldn't have been shattered and all those years later, when he decided to take matters into his own hands- I wouldn't have been there to kill him, and everyone else who decided to follow him that day? Do you really believe his nature was altered upon discovering those children? Really Kraevis- You know as well as I… A man is what he is from the moment he's born. It just takes time to nurture what lies beneath. "

"Is that your excuse for slaughtering our whole unit?" Kraevis bit out.

Kane shook his head, allowing himself a small smile. "Excuse? When have I ever made excuses...I did what I did. And if you had shown me where it would lead. To this moment right here, and all the hardship in between- I'd make the same decision, without batting an eye."

Kraevis slid his seat closer to the table, peering into Kane's eyes."

"That wasn't your decision to make," Kraevis said, and Kane could tell the man was doing his best to keep the fury alive in his voice.

"It wasn't anyone's to make. I simply did it. I know you, Kraevis… No man should have to kill his brother. And you would have, wouldn't you? You would have put him down like every other killer we'd come across, and you'd have destroyed yourself in the act."

"How can you be so sure? They were criminals- the whole lot of them. They-"

"They only did what they needed to survive…" Kane said. "The Alliance- it isn't a perfect machine. So many people think just because you're born human, you fall under their banner. But where was the Alliance in Stranglethorn when those people were being besieged by looters? When their women and children were being taken by pirates? Did you see blue and gold when we invaded their settlement? Because I didn't. I saw only desperation. I saw fea-"

"The Alliance were the ones that sent us!" Kraevis barked.

"Only after several of their scouts had gone missing in the region. Only after those holding intel important to the Alliance disappeared, did they send in a kill squad to rectify the situation. We weren't there to help, we were there to clear the way so the Alliance could continue to overlook those they claim to be a beacon of hope for. Your brother saw savages. He looked at those men and saw ghosts of the past. He saw in their eyes the same sickness that captivated those groups of fanatics sacrificing little boys and girls on wood altars in Gilneas. He saw only monsters, and ignored what had made them as they were."

"Does that excuse what they had done!?" Kraevis asked sharply through clenched teeth.

Black regarded Kraevis a moment before speaking. "No. But it didn't mean they all deserved to be executed like dogs. Not them… They attacked us out of fear, they killed others because they didn't want to be killed- they were trying to reclaim what was taken from them. Who was taken from them... Your brother never stopped to think that deeply. You weren't there. You didn't see the hate in his eyes. In all their eyes."

"I was at death's door," Kraevis said leaning back with a hard exhalation. "And they put me there. We hunt monsters and those people acted as such. How do you know I wouldn't have given the same order Traevin had if I hadn't been hit with that poison dart?"

Black regarded him for a few seconds before answering. "Because you're not that kind of monster."

Kraevis snorted cynically. "You think me a monster?" Kraevis asked placing his arm on the table as he leaned closer to Black.

Kane allowed himself another self-deprecating smile. "You don't do what we did, think how we thought- without having a bit of monster in you. But that night- we tittered on the edge of becoming the very thing we hunted. And I wasn't going to live the rest of my life having stood by while it happened. I admit I'm a killer, a murderer- a monster. But I'll be damned if I am made one by circumstance, as opposed to becoming one of my own choosing."

Black allowed the feral fury of the worgen that he had been holding back take him, allowing himself to transform into what he had become not long after slaughtering his unit and smuggling himself back into Gilneas. "Your brother told me what would happen if either one of you were killed. Striding into that village- I knew what he intended. And I knew you were both men of your word." Black could hear his voice grow guttural as he towered over Kraevis, his senses becoming sharply attuned as he completed his transformation.

"Tell me, Commander. Are you still the man I remember?" Black breathed hard, as he placed the weight of his bulk on the table, his claws digging into the wood as he brought his snout closer to Kraevis' still features.

"Aye. I am and I wish you had kept running, my boy. You took two brothers from me that night and as much as I wish I didn't. I can't help but understand why… I saw the aftermath.- I understand why... But I too am a creature of habit I'm afraid, and try as I might- it's something I doubt I'll ever break."

Black issued a low growl, smiling wolfishly as he regarded his old friend.

"Good... " He growled.

Black watched Kraevis shift in his seat his expression a growing somber.

Kraevis clenched his jaw, swallowing hard. "Kane..."

Sensing hesitation in Kraevis- Black forced his hand, lunging forward with open jaws. Kane barely saw Kraevis maneuver the pistol- before a loud sound echoed in the silent tavern- and all went dark.

Part XII

Shal'adra watched as Kraevis stalked into the night, and despite herself, she felt a tinge of pity for the man. Try as he might, he could not hide his pain from her- she saw his expression clear as day the second she rounded the corner in the dark hall leading outside.

"Wayward students…" She said softly to herself, her gaze still fixated on the area of woods Kraevis had disappeared into.

Cal glanced at her his eyebrows raising in confusion.

"You say something?"

Shal'adra eyed the dark entryway of the tavern, stepping in gingerly as if it were consecrated ground. "Nothing important." She said, continuing forward. As she entered the tavern's dining room the only sounds she heard in the still tavern were her own footsteps and the crackling of burning wood. Glancing down she saw the unbreathing fur covered form of Doctor Kane Black, prone on the wood floor, an evident gunshot wound in the worgen's right eye.

She gazed at the body of the assassin. Here lay the worgen who had wrought havoc on the SI:7 base in Red Ridge. This was the man who used and disposed of her former pupil, somehow procured a number of sensitive files to the Alliance and made them disappear- and who had done received the punishment he deserved for it. But as she gazed at the assassin's still form- she felt nothing. Not joy, not hate, not even a sense of justice. She started forward, wondering if there was a chance he was still alive after being shot through the eye but stopped, sensing the approaching presence of Cal behind her.

"Right in the eye…" Cal whistled to himself, apparently impressed. "Chalk up one win for the Alliance, I guess. I still have no idea what was taken. Hopefully, Agent Keil's riders can find anyone that might have helped him. Or perhaps find Fay'ron's body… Strange that he seems to have made it into town- even made it into the inn, yet we can find nothing to clue us in on his whereabouts after. Not to mention the staff here..."

Shal'adra continued to stare at Black's body and after a moment she began to wonder whether Black considered himself a man, or a beast. To be born one way and to die in the state he was currently in. In what form did he feel most like himself- the man, or the worgen?

"We'll give them a bit more time." Shal'adra said turning around and stepping past Cal. "Extra personnel can be ported back to Stormwind, Shaw will want to know every detail of this operation. I doubt he will be pleased with our results."

Cal had a look of disbelief on his features. "We killed the criminal. That bastard took out over two dozen of our men if you include those who died trying to capture him. What kind of sense does it make to be displeased that we couldn't find something they refused to tell us any information about? We didn't know what we were looking for. The only person who probably knows is Kraevis, and he sure as heck isn't going to tell us. So- we did what we could."

Shal'adra listened to her pupil's words, seeing the logic of his thought process but shook head all the same. "When we are given a mission, we have to think of the ramifications of failing. We know only what we are permitted to, and that must be enough." She slowly made her way out of the tavern to see several agents waiting for orders.

"Interview everyone in town. Take their statements and have it ready for Agent Kiel before we depart. We leave within the hour."

Cal stood by silently as Kraevis stepped out of Mathias Shaw's quarters, the tall white-haired man exhaling as he placed a pipe in his mouth. Kraevis turned to his side, gazing into the darkness Cal was shrouded in and shook his head disappointedly, lighting the contents of the pipe with a few quick inhales.

"You're gonna need to do better than that if you're trying to shadow me, boy."

Cal allowed himself a small smirk, striding into the early morning light streaming down past the buildings in Old Town. "Not trying anything- just waiting," Cal said jogging up to the specialist who had decided to continue ahead without waiting for Cal to reply.

"Where you off to now?"

Kraevis exhaled, blowing smoke out of his nostrils, his rough features turning towards him. "I'm going home."

Cal's brow furrowed. "To Kul'tiras? That's quite a long trip, isn't it?"

Kraevis chuckled gruffly. "Only if you something else to be doing. I don't. Far as I'm concerned, it's' just a trip. I'd rather be on the seas anyway. There's a peace to em I don't quite find in the city."

Cal nodded as they walked through the streets, watching the citizens of Stormwind go about their day, listening to the hustling and bustling of people living their lives unconcerned with assassins, legion threats and whatever other horrors they had endured over the past years.

"I don't know, seems pretty peaceful here. Loud… yes. But peaceful all the same. Seems like years since Azeroth has had a moment of stillness. I plan on enjoying it while I can before the next threat comes looming over the horizon."

Cal caught Kraevis give him a sidelong glance. "What…" Cal asked suspiciously.

"Nothing, boy. I heard you and Shal'adra are being sent on an assignment to Kalimdor."

Cal looked at Kraevis, his expression hopefully portraying something akin to cautious skepticism. "Why is that something you would know? If that were true?"

Kraevis gave a wan smile, "I know things boy. That's my job. Also, Shaw told me as much."

"Ah." Glancing at the old specialist Cal did his best to sound as casual as possible. "He also tell you what was in those files Black supposedly stole from Red Ridge?"

Kraevis's wan smile widened, his craggy features wrinkling with the gesture. Cal could see why the old man hardly ever allowed himself the full grin, it didn't look like Kraevis' face was made for such a mirthful expression.

"You were right the first time. I knew all along. But upon speaking to Black, I knew no matter what we did, we'd never obtain the documents."

Cal exhaled disappointedly. "Sounds like a defeatist statement to me. We could have broken him."

Kraevis blew a long stream of smoke out of his mouth, his nose flaring as he spoke. "No, boy. No, we couldn't have, and that's why I left it at that. But his associate- that would have been something we could work with had we found him."

"Fay'ron Talmen? The one he said he killed?" Cal asked trying to grasp the old specialist's meaning.

Kraevis looked down at Cal as they maneuvered through other pedestrians as they entered the Dwarven district. "He never said that."

Cal's brow furrowed. "Yeah, he did. He said he used him then disposed of him. When a murderer says they disposed of somebody, logic dictates they are very dead."

Kraevis exhaled, licking his dry lips as he removed the pipe from his mouth. "Black was a lot of things. A killer, yes, a criminal- sure. But a liar?" Kraevis screwed up his face and shook his head faintly. "Not so much. He said exactly what he meant. He was a man of his word, even if the words he chose would suggest otherwise."

Cal felt a sense of chagrin shoot through him as he recalled the exchange between Kraevis and Black. "Didn't he say we'd have trouble finding what was left of him?"

Kraevis have a mirthless snort. "No. He said his usefulness had run its' course. And in time we'd find what had become of him. Though it might take us a while…" Kraevis chuckled darkly to himself. "He basically told us that Fay'ron was gone, and we wouldn't know his whereabouts until it was too late."

Cal's features contorted into an expression of disbelief. "He gave the elf the documents, didn't he?"

Kraevis tilted his head to the side, considering. "More than likely and that's what I told Shaw, even if it's only conjecture. Elves live a long time, and so will the Alliance. He'll be on the run for the rest of his natural life."

Cal thought back to what Kraevis had said upon exiting the tavern in Darkshire. "Is that what you meant by a storm approaching? That whatever Fay'ron escaped with would bring about some other conflict?"

Cal looked up at Kraevis, who did not answer at first. The two walked in silence for a number of seconds before the old specialist finally replied. "You're a sharp one, aren't you?"

Cal's eyes narrowed suspiciously, and he allowed himself to be lost in thought as the two walked in silence for a while until they had finally arrived at the city's harbor.

"So how does it feel?" Cal asked, curiously.

Kraevis looked at him curiously one white eyebrow raised in question.

"You said last night, Shaw had sent you because you had a promise to keep. How does it feel that you've finally fulfilled it?"

Cal watched Kraevis' jaw work as they descended the first flight of stairs to the docks below. "I can't say." He said without further comment.

Cal frowned at the answer. "Oh come now. You obviously have been working to fulfill that promise for a long time. I assume it was something along the lines of-." Cal dropped his voice trying to make it sound as gravelly as possible, without much success.

"I promise you one day, Doctor Black- I'm going to kill you. Mark my words…" Cal coughed, clearing his throat. Keeping that up wasn't easy for him.

Kraevis glanced at him blankly. "Not exactly."

Exhaling impatiently Cal pressed further, his curiosity not allowing him to let the issue go. "Then what was it?"

Stopping beside the massive bronze lion statue overlooking the harbor Kraevis seemed to take a deep breath, his hands looping around his belt as he gazed at the waters ahead of them.

"Yeah...I made a promise. A long time ago, probably when you were only a babe, I had assembled the whole of my crew after we had smuggled ourselves out from behind the walls of Gilneas. I said I'd always watch over those who were dear to me. And I made a promise… a pact, that should anyone take my brother from me, I'd hunt them to the ends of the earth and I'd put them down..."

Cal's eyes widened briefly and he could tell he might have asked for more information than he had any right knowing.

"That scum killed your brother?" Cal said understanding why Kraevis was so adamant about killing the ruthless assassin.

Kraevis nodded, regretfully. "He did, his name was Traevin. Life's a funny thing boy. Because when I made that declaration, I always assumed it would be in regards to him… Traevin...But in the end, that wasn't the brother that had been taken away from me that night- I've come to accept he was gone long before he was killed by Black. That's the damnedest thing, isn't it? Looking back at the things you've said, and only decades later seeing the irony in it all." Kraevis gave a mirthless snort, blowing air out of his nostrils as started down the steps, seeming to shrug his contemplativeness off with the rise of his eyebrows and the tilt of his head.

"Oh…" Cal said a bit sheepishly. He took a moment to let the impact of that revelation sink in, following the specialist down the stairs silently, before another thought nagged at him to the point he felt he had to ask one more question.

"Tell me one more thing, if you would, Kraevis."

Kraevis who began descending the set of wood stairs leading to the docks directly ahead turned around, his expression holding expectant curiosity.

"This storm you said that's coming… Is it something we could have avoided, had we succeeded in our mission?"

Kraevis's expression revealed nothing Cal could decipher, the old man merely looking at him with his piercing green eyes.

"Curious question, boy. Like a said… You're a sharp one aren't you?" Kraevis reached to his side and placed a black grey captain's hat over his white hair, lighting his pipe as he stood on the stairs.

"No… No, that storm would have come all the same. But now… It'll approach faster than expected, and the Alliance might not be prepared when the drums of war come thundering once again." Kraevis turned around and tipped his head in farewell.

"Take care of your mentor. Mind her teachings. You'll be in her territory when you arrive in Kalimdor. Heed her advice and listen to her guidance. You might be a sharp one, but believe me, boy- you still have much to learn."

Before Cal got a chance to reply, Kraevis turned around and disappeared into the crowd of people as he descended the last set of the steps towards Stormwind Harbor.

"Yeah, will do. Take care…"

Epilogue

Turning back to gaze once again at the smoking remains of Black's crashed flying machine, Fay'ron patted the satchel slung over his shoulder and around his waist to make sure the plans were still there. He exhaled a breath he didn't know he was holding upon feeling their papery crunch in his leather bag as he trotted through the wet mud of The Swamps of Sorrows towards the neutral port of Bogpaddle.

After an hour or so of managing to avoid ravenous crocolisks, wandering bog beasts and random adventurers- Fay'ron found himself crossing into the goblin controlled town, almost just as soaked from the rain as when he and Kane had first entered Darkshire. Upon crossing the threshold of the massive metal doors he noticed the guards looking him over with suspicious, unwelcoming yet apathetic snarls as he made his way deeper into the port towards the dock at by Misty Reed Strand.

Where everyone knows you're up to no good, but no one cares… Fay'ron thought as he checked his bags again, hoping the precautions he had taken to make sure the plans stayed dry and legible were still holding up. Sticking his hand inside the bag he had cured with a mixture of his own creation he felt with a relief they were just as dry as the moment they had been stored in Red Ridge for safekeeping until the day they would inevitably be utilized. With some sense of appreciation, he thought back to Kane and was glad that now they never would be.

As he stepped onto the deck of the only boat docked at the end of the pier, he looked around cautiously. No one's here… He thought with some hesitancy. He turned around and caught the eye of one of the goblin bruisers who was stationed at the end of the wharf, closest to the seemingly crewless ship. The bruiser lifted his chin to the side, motioning him to enter what looked like the entrance to the ship's hull or perhaps the crew quarters, before turning around again as if he had never even seen Fay'ron in the first place.

He peered inside the entrance, glancing back at the goblin for confirmation, who was now leaving his station, walking away from the ship's gangplank deeper into Bogpaddle. Well that is certainly comforting, Fay'ron thought stepping into the dimly lit room to find himself in the crew's quarters. He glanced around seeing a few rope woven hammocks and a few worn sets of wooden tables and chairs that look to have seen better days. Taking a seat at a small table with two chairs near the entrance of the quarters, Fay'ron positioned himself with his back mere inches from the hull of the ship, as to have clear vision of all entering and anyone who might still be lurking in the ship's quarters, watching.

After waiting for what seemed like the better part of an hour, Fay'ron found himself starting to doze off, sitting alone in the quiet ship he realized with some astonishment that he hadn't slept since SI:7 had brought Black into their custody almost three days ago. Should have made a potion for that… He thought regretfully standing as to keep himself from falling asleep.

"At least I didn't fall asleep on the ride here…" He said to himself as he began to wander about, dragging one gloved finger across one of the more larger tables deeper into the ship's hull. "Grimey…" He said, inspecting the digit. Glancing ahead of him he looked around cautiously before creeping further in still- seeing what looked like captain's quarters, Fay'ron peeked inside, peering about with some interest. Very fragrant in here, he thought, breathing in deeply as he regarded the two rows of plants potted by the captain's windows. Deciding that if no one had arrived in the last hour, it was doubtful they would now, he let himself in glancing about the quaint room to see two Alliance shields positioned on either side of the quarter's entrance.

As he stood regarding the two shields he felt a sense of guilt that he had managed to hold at bay for the past several months. He thought about his part in helping Black gas, and slaughter his fellow agents with an airborne poison the doctor had concocted himself. He thought about his disregard for all the lives their choices would eventually affect, the solemn faces of Trelayne and Mabel flashing through his mind. And lastly, he thought about the fact that he was now about to give the faction he swore to defend his people against- the very ammunition they needed to start a war.

"My people…" He whispered to himself. "How far we've falle-" With a start, Fay'ron felt the edge of a cold blade touch the skin of his neck- the smell of something rotten filling his nostrils- seeming to overpower the flowery scent he had noticed only seconds ago.

"Fallen? You've no idea of what it means to truly be... fallen." A guttural voice said from behind him, pronouncing the last word as if tasting every syllable.

Fay'ron attempted to speak, only to have the edge of the blade press further on his neck. He could smell the foul stench of death as the warm breath from his assailant assaulted his senses as the figure hushed him mockingly.

"Move and your pretty little head will be rolling before you even realize you've been cut- elf...You needn't say a thing. If only you're here, the good doctor must have met his end. What a shame."

Fay'ron thought of several ways to try to get out of the precarious situation he was in, but he had been caught off guard, and he was completely at his assailant's mercy.

"I'll take those." The figure whispered in a light hiss. Fay'ron could feel the figure reach into his bag and pull out the documents he and Black had sacrificed so much for, and as they left his possession, he felt a sense of weight be lifted from him. Whatever happened from here on, they had succeeded. His home, his people's home would now be safe.

He heard the documents be unraveled, the figure behind him humming interestingly. "Oh my…The Alliance most certainly have been busy. And look at that. Whisperwind and The Windrunner sisters would have led the assault… Oh yes- Silvermoon would have fallen within the day with these, the rest of Quel'thalas… not long after.." A cynical sickly chuckle emanated from the figure. "The Dark Lady will be pleased to see her reservations about you lot had merit. I'm sure she will respond accordingly."

Hearing the documents be placed in the figure's bags, he felt the knife come away from his throat. With some sense of relief, he stood still a moment before allowing himself to turn around. But there was no one there.

"You lot?" Fay'ron echoed to the empty room. "I have no affiliation with them anymore-I gave up my place in the Alliance the moment I made the choice to alert the Sunreavers to this threat, from the moment I began working with your mercenary to steal the plans my fate had been sealed. Part of this deal was to be allowed to return home. Does this not prove who I am truly am aligned with? Does this not prove my loyalty?"

Despite the room being seemingly empty, he heard the sickly guttural voice emanate from the nothingness around him as he glanced about the room, his hand shaking from the adrenaline now coursing through him from his near-fatal encounter.

"Our terms stated that when you and Doctor Black arrived with the documents in your possession - only then would you be granted asylum in Quel'thalas. Unfortunately- it seems you've failed to live up to your end of the deal. You are now a man without a country- so to speak." The guttural laugh emanated throughout the boat like a distant echo.

"The Horde thanks you for your service. Best of luck… betrayer."

Scrubbing the floors forcefully, Mabel turned to see Trelayne sitting at the table by the fireplace, her expression a blank mask. Her green eyes held a sense of sadness to them and Mabel felt an anger rise within her that she didn't know where to place- so she scrubbed harder, trying to wash the dried stain of Kane's blood out of the tavern floor- the worgen's blood seemed permanently infused into the wood and try as she might- it never seemed to let up.

She felt a hand squeeze her shoulder gently. "That's enough my dear. I think you've done all you can." Smitts said to her, in a tone seeming more tired than usual, the bags under his eyes were growing more pronounced by the day, and his gaze was wary.

"No there's still-" She glanced down and saw that the floor was clean. There was nothing there anymore. She licked her dry lips with a sniff and nodded in agreeance."Yeah, I guess so."

She righted herself to see a patron she was sure was an SI:7 agent due to the fact she had never seen him a day in her life until after the raid on their tavern six days ago. He took a sip from his tankard, nonchalantly seeming to look about the room as if he were there only to enjoy the atmosphere. No one cames to Darkshire for the atmosphere. Mabel thought irritably. Amateur.

"They've been hovering about for the better part of the week," Mabel said to Smitts, whispering under her breath as she hefted the brown bucket of water.

Smitts nodded agreeingly. "Yes, I've seen that much. Let them do whatever they feel they have to do, they'll gain nothing from it." He said taking the bucket from her, here I'll have Gunder dump this. Take Trelayne and go downstairs, we need to switch out the casks, we're low on ale."

Smitts ambled behind Trelayne and squeezed her shoulder gently. "Dear, you mind helping Mabel carry a cask up from the cellar?"

Mabel watched Trelayne glance up at Smitts tiredly, "Sure."

"What kind of ale do you need?" Mabel asked as she and Trelayne passed Han at the bar. He gave them a covert glance, his face a mask of concentration as he prepared drink orders.

"Black," Smitts answered. "I'll be there in a minute I need to check the quality anyway."

Mabel sighed heavily, "Sure." She answered walking with Trelayne downstairs, her hand placed gently on her back.

"I haven't seen you get more than a wink of sleep, Trelayne. Exhausting yourself isn't going to do anything but wear you out. You need to rest."

Trelayne blinked at her, "I know, I know. I just-" She shook her head tiredly, without finishing the statement. As they reached the cellar they heard Smitts trudge down the stairs behind them.

"Alright then…" He said eyeing a casket to the far end of the wall. Strolling up to it he knelt down and pushed in the cork, as he did so the wall in front of them slid to the side with a light grinding noise. Instead of going further down the metal-walled tunnel they turned right into a room Black had built years ago- that they had since decided to just use as extra storage for their inventory.

Stepping into the room Mabel's features stretched into a smile as the massive furred form of Black stirred at the sound of them entering. With an effort, he glanced up at them from his position on a bed placed in the center of a half dozen casks of ale on either side of him, a bandage wrapped around his right eye.

"You're awake!" Mabel heard herself shout, rushing towards Kane as he struggled to sit up.

Kane gave a half embrace with his right arm as she squeezed him.

"Yes… And I have a migraine of the likes you wouldn't believe." Kane said in a gruff guttural voice, chuckling laboredly as he glanced up, regarding the two behind her.

"Told you I'd see you soon," Smitts said with a wry grin. "By the way, I'd stay in that form for a while if you can help it. I suspect since worgen are naturally hardier than humans, and the fact Kraevis only managed to shoot your eye out is the only reason you're still among the living." He said moving closer, inspecting the bandage.

"I thought that man was supposed to be one of the best marksmen you've ever seen" Smitts added, seeming pleased with what he saw.

"He is," Black said, regarding Trelayne with a look she couldn't decipher on the worgen's features.

Smitts frowned considering. "Hmph. I see then. Well, alright- Mabel, I think we ought to leave these two to… Eh, you know...Let's just get back to work. I'm taking a nap soon as my shift is over." He said as he made his way out of the room, disappearing around the corner.

Mabel glanced between the two and patted Kane's dark furry chest affectionately, "See you later, Kane." Smiling to herself Mabel noticed Trelayne's tired features seem to take on a more mirthful expression as her friend walked slowly towards the injured worgen.

"Doctor Black…" Mabel heard Trelayne say as she exited the storage room.

"So tell me…"

End