Chapter 2-Are we there yet?
"I told you, we'll get 'der when we get 'der…"
"You said that three hours ago…"
Dauros sighed as he plodded along beside his impatient comrade. This kind of bantering was just the thing the troll would have preferred to avoid when he decided to hire a mercenary for protection. Unfortunately, the undead warrior he had picked had not only been expensive, but he had also had full use of his lungs. And if that weren't enough, he had been a right pain in the–
"Oi!" Brooksworn snapped, bringing the shaman out of his thoughts, "If you don't give me a straight answer, I'm taking off! We've been walking, let me reiterate, walking, for five hours straight!"
Dauros sincerely hoped that the Forsaken would do just what he threatened to do. It was true, they had been walking for a good while, in scorching heat if that weren't enough. But that didn't mean that he could complain ever minute of it…
"I mean," Brooksworn began, "I'm fine with the task you gave me. I remember the terms very well. Very well." The warrior kicked a rock in front of him.
"How am I breakin' da contract?" Dauros asked, in spite of himself. He kicked himself, knowing what the undead's answer would be…
"Let's see." Brooksworn said, his guttural voice dripping with sarcasm. "You said you needed protection."
"And I do!" Dauros said in protest. "I specialize in the healing arts! On these roads, such a talent would be useless!"
"You said you needed protection until you reached Orgrimmar." Brooksworn said, his voice growing louder, overriding the protest of the shaman.
Dauros nodded. "Ya, I did. And this violates it, how?"
"I'll tell you why!" Brooksworn yelled, gesticulating wildly into the air. "We have yet to set foot in the capital orc city!"
The warrior drew out a wicked looking two handed sword. The weapon was polished until it gleamed with a dull light. A black blade adorned it, with a single edge, like a katana. The hilt was dull grey, the color of steel.
Brooksworn hefted the sword lazily, scowling. "Look around you Dauros. Where are we?"
Dauros knew exactly where they were, or at least he knew what the map told them. He was averse to saying it though, as it proved the warrior's point.
"Um…"
"We're in the Burning Steps!" Brooksworn yelled. "I thought it would just be a simple walk, or better yet, ride to Orgrimmar. But no, you decided to take us on a damn round-the-world trip!!"
The warrior started ticking off the places they had been.
"Let's see…We started in Mulgore. We've been all around Kalimdor. We're in Azeroth currently, and let me tell you, I have had my fill of this bull!"
Dauros continued walking. It wasn't as if he didn't find sense in the Forsaken's words. It was just that after hearing this tirade or similar versions of it five times now, he found that it would just be prudent to tune out Brooksworn's jabberings.
A large scorpion crossed their path, clicking furiously. The two 'companions' waited for it to pass, and then walked on.
Dauros realized a few minutes later that Brooksworn's diatribe had ceased, and that the undead was trying a new tactic: silence. The warrior walked with a sulky demeanor, shooting the toll a nasty look every so often.
After about a minute of this, Dauros finally gave in. "What do ya want from me?"
Brooksworn looked at him askance. "Do you really want to know?"
"Not particularly." Dauros' accent butchered the second word. "But if it'll get ya off of my back, then I'm all ears."
Brooksworn huffed out a breath. Then he said: "How about an explanation?"
Dauros had not expected that. "What?"
Brooksworn eyed the troll. "You've already promised me money. I just want to know what the devil you're doing. You seem to be taking a completely random path through the most dangerous places you can find." He sheathed his sword. "Not that I can't handle it."
Dauros chuckled. "Never said you couldn't."
Brooksworn laughed in his rough tone. "No you never did."
The trek continued for a little bit, and Dauros brightened when the color of the stone and dirt covering the ground shifted slightly. The air grew less hot and dry, and small shrubs began to be spotted around.
Brooksworn breathed in, his inhaling sounding like a death rattle. "Well, I don't know how we did it, but we're back in the Badlands."
Dauros smiled. "Didn't think we'd make it?"
Brooksworn chuckled. "You were thinking the same."
They stood there for a moment, savoring the fresh, ash-free air. Then Brooksworn started walking.
"C'mon. We could reach Orgrimmar in a day if we purchase mounts."
Dauros grinned again, and started after the warrior, privately thankful that he did not have to answer the warrior's question.
Author's Note: Yes, this seems extremely random! But it's all part of bringing the story together, I promise.
About Dauros: Yes, my name somehow slipped in there. Dauros was my first Horde character. I actually think that I still have him…He's probably so bored (I haven't played his character in months). It is from him that my username originated from.
Well, thank you for reading this chapter. You bring a tear (of happiness) to my eye when you read.