In Feast or Famine

Kherighan's eyes fluttered open and he quickly sprung to a crouched position, looking about hurriedly. He had fallen asleep in spite of his desire not to. The touch of orange and blush mixed with shadows on the tent indicated it was dusk. Above him he heard the singular caw of a lonely crow as it looked for dead flesh. Ella was not here. He felt his legs tremble beneath him where they should be firm. Normally he could stay still like this for hours without the slightest quake. Still weak he thought somberly. He suddenly realized he had not eaten in days. His pulse pounded heavily in his ears and he swayed. Kherighan raised a hand to his face, holding his head steady through the incessant throbbing. Looking out from between his fingers he saw his leather bound axe, still sitting silently in the corner with his gear.

Crawling silently to his armor, he began to suit up. Its weight comforted him, as if it were a second skin. He latched his dented chest plate securely, then connected his spiked pauldrons to his shoulders. Continuing till all that was uncovered was his head, he picked up Sceratus and peeled back entrance to the tent, heading out.

Kherighan bent low to the ground, studying the dead grass for signs of disturbance. Deep grooves led to the entrance from where Ella had dragged him into the tent. He sensed smaller evidence of movement that appeared to head to the northeast. Another trail more to the north. Based on Ella's tale, north would be the direction from which she'd retrieved the abandoned tent. By process of elimination, the most likely course was the northeastern trail. Staying low to the ground, Kherighan set out.

Knowing pushing himself would only lead to collapse, Kherighan moved at a slow and determined pace. Also, he wished to go as silently as possible. Now was not the time to attract unwanted attention. The trail Ella was leaving was faint, but the scrape her boots left in the dirt was unmistakable. Feel a bit more resolve, he quickened his pace slightly. Steeling himself against a nearby tree, he suddenly heard a low, intimidating growl. From nearby brush emerged a small pack of four worgs. Somehow, these creatures seemed unaffected by the mutating agent that infested these lands. The main worg was a particularly muscular beast, dull silver shagged fur cover his solid frame as it led its pack towards the intruder in it territory. Kher removed the bindings on Sceratus with as little movement as possible. Once unsheathed, he struck.

The pack leader never had a chance to attempt to latch its maw onto Kher's body. It didn't even have a chance to move before a ghostlike hand stretched forth and snatched the creature, immediately pulling it back towards an axe already being brought down to meet its skull. It hit with such force that the axe sunk deep into the worgs brain, killing it instantly. Driven crazy by either sudden fear or insufferable rage, the rest of the pack barreled down upon Kher before he could unwedge the weapon from their fallen comrade. He drew back his left fist and it began to crackle as ice covered his fingers. Smoke-like tendrils evaporated into the air as the frost chilled the atmosphere around his hand. One worg launched itself at Kher and met the fist as he brought it up to catch the monster. Its ribcage instantly froze, then shattered with the force of Kher's punch, still warm intestines flying free with nothing to contain them. With a pitiful yelp the animal flew back and hit the ground, blood and sinew spewing from the gaping wound as it twitched uncontrollably. The remaining two launched a coordinated attack, splitting to either side of their prey. Still not fully recovered, the furry blur from the left connected with his leg, knocking him down. Before it could escape and go for another assault, Kher brought his other leg up, locking both on its neck like a vice. The other worg, a jet black shadow, lunged for his face. Kher let go of Sceratus and caught the shadow by its unkempt mane, just below the jawbone. It opened its razor filled mouth wider, trying to maneuver to a position where it could bite down on the grip that held it back. Kher pushed the shaking shadow creature back, causing it to flip in the air and land on its side. Then turning his attention to the worg that was still desperately trying to shake its head free of the legs in which it was caught, he rolled quickly towards the prisoner's body. Its neck snapped as its head found itself sudden staring upside down at its hindquarters. It shook abruptly then fell silent. Now on his stomach, Kher looked up to see the shadow worg was already up and headed towards him. It closed the distance with maddening purpose. No recourse left, Kher wondered briefly if he'd survive the wound he'd receive long enough to drag the demon dog down to hell with him. No sooner as he'd given it the thought, the shadow yelped in shock, bounding a few more feet before crashing to the ground. Its legs still moved even as the last command of its nervous system faded. His vision blurred, Kher tried to focus on the worg to see what had brought it down. Sticking out of the side of its head was a peculiar jeweled dagger.

"You're here, aren't you?" Kherighan whispered as he collapsed.

When his eyes fluttered open, he looked up at the sky and saw the sun had not fallen much further than where it was when he'd been attacked by the pack. Good, he thought to himself, I haven't been out long. Rolling over slowly, he released the irregularly folded worg from his legs and pushed himself back till he was propped up against a nearby ochre colored pine tree. Its dry bristles whispered to him as wind gushed by. He looked over at the ebony-furred worg that would most likely have been the end of him. He laughed briefly at the thought, given all the battles he'd been in. It was amusing that a chance encounter with a pack of wild worgs that brought him so close to his death. Looking over at the animal, he noted the dagger was no longer decorating the creatures skull. His eyes searched the nearby decrepit flora for any sign someone had walked over to the beast to retrieve their weapon. He saw no evidence of his savior had ever been here.

The sound of plate scraping together changed the focus of Kherighan's attention. From the same direction the worg pack had come from, an armored being moved closer. Smiling to himself, he sighed in relief and recognition at the light clatter. Ella came into his view suddenly, beautiful and weary, carrying flasks of water and a skinned worg on her shoulder. She started at the sight of him on the ground, then looked about at the dead pack lying in the grass. Ella'dora gave him an exasperated look as she lowered the prey she'd hunted to the ground.

Looking at each other for a moment, her with concern and he with silent adoration, Ella brought a hand up and covered her face, shaking her head.

"Show off." she muttered.

Grimacing, Kher yanked up on Sceratus's long handle, making a sickening sucking noise as it's blade dislodged from the worg's brain. Carefully re-wrapping the blade, he noted that Ella had his old sword sheathed on her back. He could swear the hilt glowed as the last rays of the sun caught it. Strapping his own weapon in place, he walked back over to the black worg. A clean entry wound from where the dagger had entered the side of its head seeped blood and fluid down its shadowy fur. Ella'dora walked up behind him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"What are you doing out here? I told you to wait in the tent and I was going to search for food." Ella looked as if some other thought burdened her. She looked upon him almost like one would look on a ghost of a loved one.

Kher reached to his shoulder, interlacing his fingers with Ella's. "I have no memory of you telling me. If I answered, I must have been still sleeping."

Ella was checking him over for any wounds. "I didn't want to leave you, but you haven't had anything to eat in so long and we brought hardly anything with us other than bread." She looked at the worgs about them. Perhaps she had been naive to have not brought him with her. Even in his current state, he'd taken on several beasts at once by himself and survived without a scratch. The worg she'd dispatched had gone down fairly easily. All that training with the linx back home seemed to have paid off. The beast had gotten a lucky scratch with its paw, but she'd already healed the wound she'd received during her encounter.

Kher turned his back on the dead worg, looking seriously into Ella's eyes, "It would be best to stay together, I think. Though I'm unharmed this pack nearly did me in. I'm still not totally certain how I survived..."

While Kherighan pondered for a moment, Ella's thoughts wandered to when Kherighan had disappeared as they'd entered the Plaguelands. His battle had been physical, but she'd had her own to deal with. She let her mind drift to the prophet who'd come down to her and shown her thngs... things she really didn't want to dwell on now.

Wrapping her arms about his waist, Ella'dora rested her head against the cold metal covering Kherighan's chest. She could swear she could hear the echo of his heartbeat reverberating off of it. "Alright then, we'll go together. Unless you're beaten senseless by vindictive ghosts again."

Touching his chin to the top of Ella's head, he brought a hand up to her back. They remained in each others arms for several moments. Kher lifted her chin up gently and kissed her. As the kiss ended, he noted a look in her eyes that seemed far away. Something was weighing on her mind. He resolved find out what it was at a later time.

Ella'dora said, "I found an abandoned farm not far from here. Some undead still roam the field, but they are even less competent than the ones that roam the Scar. There is an old house there. I've already looked through it and it is still in good enough shape to offer us shelter and keep the wandering inhabitants from breaking in." Ella's voice had a forced calm. It had been rough these past days, dealing with disturbing visions and having to care for her wounded love. She'd found some peace on the night they'd been together, but she hadn't slept much due to her encounter. Surely this land was ever cursed to bring misery to all who walked its infested forests.

Kher nodded, smiling reassuringly, "I'm sure it will do for the night."

Gathering up her kill, Ella'dora took lead, making sure not to move too quickly for Kherighan to keep up. A break in the forest soon revealed what Ella had described to him. A rotting two-story home creaked wearily in the distance. Victims of the Scourge meandered in the fields where golden wheat used to grow. A cauldron sat in the middle of the earth that had not been tilled in an age, abandoned since Naxxaramas had moved from the Plaguelands to Northrend. The Argent Dawn and Scarlet Crusade's constant extermination of the undead in the area had left only a handful of the vile rotters. They had little trouble avoiding the mindless zombies.

The front door to the house protested loudly as rusted hinges ached open. There was a stove in a dusty and web laced kitchen. Kher, closed the door after Ella had entered, locking it, then moving a nearby cabinet in front of it, just in case one of the locals should happen to come calling in the night. He let his mind search the house. Used to calling the dead as his servants, he could feel their aura. There was nothing but harmless ghosts. That, and an invisible guest. But that could wait. There was some long unused firewood in a metal box, which she now began to put in the ominous cast iron stove. Once in place, she brought out a flint and steel, casting sparks on the kindling till it produced a flame. She carefully encouraged the flame to grow it with gentle breath.

A few hours later, Kher sat at a table where he imagined a happy family had once eaten their dinners. Well cooked worg meat scented the air as Ella brought it to him on a chipped plate she'd taken from the cabinet that now blocked the entrance. Thanking her, Kher peeled some meat from the bone with deft fingers and placed it in his mouth. It tasted more delicious than almost any meal he'd ever eaten. The first meal after a period of starvation was always as such, he'd found. He made a point of it not to consume the meal in a ravenous frenzy. He took a swig from a flask of water. Cracked and dehydrated lips were grateful for the moisture. Kher sighed for a moment at the contentment of such a simple act as drinking water, then looked over at Ella. She sat in a chair across from him, in front of her a plate of her own with what looked to be a leg on it. Having yet to take a bite, she was watching him very closely.

"You need to eat too, you know? You have expended much more energy than I these last few days. And I don't think you've been sleeping." He gave her a stern look to emphasize his point.

Ella looked as if to argue, then conceding she picked at her food, eating little pieces. She hummed an old High Elf lullaby as she ate. Kher also continued on his piece, eating about half of the meal before feeling quite full. He knew his appetite would return again soon. Ella'dora's eyelids were heavy, trying unsuccessfully to fight off the exhaustion of the recent past. She soon lost the battle, head nodding, sleeping where she sat. Kher moved his chair back and walked around the table as softly as possible. He pulled her chair back with ease then knelt beside her, placing his forearm under her knees, the other arm behind her back. Ella's eyelids opened just enough to see what was going on. She look at his face and smiled dreamily. Carefully he lifted her and carried her upstairs to the master bedroom, placing her with care on the surprisingly clean bed. Leaning down, he kissed her lovely lips, letting his linger against them a while before standing again and heading back to the kitchen.

Once in the dining area, he leaned again a wall which creaked with the reception of his weight. Kherighan folded his arms, seemingly lost in thought, then looked towards a particularly darkened corner of the room.

"I know you're there, Valtherian." His hollow voice seemed incredibly loud in this place at night.

As if casting off a cloak of shadows, a blood elf clad in fine leather emerged from the corner. His bright red hair stood in contrast to the gray and brown environment. Val wore a smug grin as he walked towards Kherighan, his feet making no detectable sound on the old and creaky floor boards.

Bringing his middle and forefingers to his brow, Valtherian flipped his hand in a backwards salute. "Good to know you still remember your family, Kher. Well, what remains of it, anyway."