Hey guys, thanks for the reviews! Especially flying Octopus. I love it when people really get a hold of my stories like that, really chew them over. In response to your comments, I'm planning to reveal a little more of what happened with Meviahd's mother, as well as more of her past, bit by bit. You're right, though. I could have used some more fleshing out.
As for the Night Elf customs, and even the orchish language, I'm taking a few liberties here. The orchish especially, since Blizz has openly admitted they never really planed the language and only made 'orchish sounding words' at first. I figured some words might be interchangeable, nice catch with 'ogar!'
Anyways, I'm going on an alternating point of view for this story, so we get every other chapter from the troll. :)
Thanks, guys. Also, if you've got comments, I'd love to head them.
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Jandali did not like hostage situations.
The mission was a simple one gone completely over-complicated. The orcs didn't trust Jandali, and in a way Jandali didn't trust the orcs. Not in the way of battle, where he knew they'd protect him. It was more that he didn't trust them to follow his smaller commands. Like the elf, for instance. As if Jandali had time to worry about the blasted elf. But if he didn't keep an eye on her, who knew when one of the orcs would 'accidentally' make an ends of her. They didn't want to cart her around anymore than Jandali did. Besides, if they didn't trust the troll, they certainly didn't trust the elves.
The other complication was that their mission, their whole surveillance, seemed to be all for naught. Recently a large amount of goblin caravan traffic had been reportedly traveling to Alliance outposts. A very large amount. Questioning the goblins always got the same answer, that the Alliance had more gold to offer, but Horde leaders were growing suspicious. If the little green traders were double crossing them, there'd be trouble. Some had suggested the goblins were selling the Alliance weapons they weren't offering the Horde. Small groups had been dispatched in secret to inspect some of the caravans. 'Inspect' was a loose definition.
Jandali had gotten the orders to accompany one such group. Word passed from Master Gadrin to his teacher, Zuri, and finally to him. Orders that were one person away from Master Gadrin were important, they must be followed. So Jandali found himself the 'leader' of a band of orcs who were certain they'd be leading themselves. Not the past-his-prime troll shaman who knew too many languages. They didn't need him to 'inspect' a few little goblin caravans. To eavesdrop on the pathetic elves, maybe. But who needed that anyways?
Then there was the elf. The groups had been commanded to take any people they thought might prove worthwhile. The goblin traders were mostly small fries, all their caravans filled with the same foods, armors, and weapons Orgrimmar saw pass through it's gates everyday. But the elf was different. Jandali had immediately recognized the markings, bars of white fanning out from under her eyes like spread wings.
Horsehawk riders. That's who had those. Jandali had seen them on the high cheekbones of a force of mounted archers he'd once seen rise over a battlefield. The Night Elfs had a long, convoluted word for the bloody creatures. There were rumors that they were even intelligent, known to speak to their riders. Rare, those elves. Rare enough to fit the conditions handed down in their orders.
They just rubbed him the wrong way, hostage situations. Jandali couldn't think of anything more annoying than having to pull the struggling, stubborn night elf through the Ashenvale Forests. They were already testing their boundaries. Ashenvale crawled with elves, like ants shifting on the mossy grounds.
They'd had to gag the elf. Jandali was taking no chances with a woman who would dare spit in his face. No bladed threat or flare of magic would steel her tongue if she thought it would do her some good, he figured. They'd stuffed a wad of cloth between her teeth, tied tight around the back of her already battered head. Once in a while she made muffled, angry noises around the moist wool. Her glowing eyes seared with hatred every time Jandali caught them. Not that he was worried about her, there was nothing she could do.
There was a more pressing matter. Jandali had been scanning the skies since that night, ordering two of the orcs with them to do the same at all times. The high trees above them gave Jandali no comfort. Where there was a rider, there was a mount. A confrontation with the elf's horsehawk could be dangerous. Deadly.
It didn't help that the men were in low spirits. They had little to report back when they returned home, save for the recalcitrant elf hostage. Who knew if she was worth anything at all? The terrain was treacherous; they'd been scaling the mountains near the border of Felwood to avoid any confrontation. Worse, the sun would soon set and they'd yet to travel as far as they'd wanted, at least partially due to the hostage. The cliff faces and pebbly rubble of the Ashenvale mountains were no place to sleep.
One of the orcs, Drak'thog, came to walk beside Jandali. He was third in command of the party, placing under his older brother, Gar'thog and Jandali himself. The troll found Drak'thog to be far more manageable and intelligent than his brother, one of the friendlier of the bunch.
"What are we going to do about the horsehawk? When night falls, it will be near impossible to see it." Drak'thog asked in orchish.
"I have a plan." Jandali told him, casting a glance back at the elf. She was growing tired now, stumbling every once in a while. It seemed she was plagued with dizzy spells as well. Sometimes her eyes would go unfocussed, and she would make muffled noises through the cloth in her mouth. Jandali suspected she might had a mild concussion from the couple of blows she'd taken to the head. In a way, the troll felt bad for her. Her spirit wasn't broken, but it was eroding. Even an enemy could find empathy in that.
Hours later they broke camp on top of a flat, rocky outcropping that carved a pocket into the cliffside. The orcs didn't mind the dark, their night vision easily allowed them to set tents and dole out their rations without much more effort. It was all done with a precise air of efficiency, swift and practiced. They'd done it all before dozens and dozens of times.
The only change in routine was the elf. Jandali took care of her himself. He lashed her bonds around the trunk of a scraggly, medium-sized tree almost directly in the center of the camp so that she could sit uncomfortably, but no more than that. The whole while she was giving him a strange, almost expectant look. It was a black, laden expression, as if the elf were waiting for something.
Ah, Jandali figured. She was waiting for her horsehawk to arrive and gut them all. Jandali snorted, she was in for a nasty shock. He untied the gag from the back of her head, and she sucked in an unhindered gush of air greedily.
"Don't get your hopes up, girly." Jandali told her darkly.
"I'd spit in your face again, but I don't want to waste the strength." She responded evenly, despite ragged breath.
"She cuts me to the quick, Lady Daggertongue." Jandali winked at her and moved off to set up his own shelter for the night. Jandali and Gar'Thog both got their own personal tents, but Jandali had to set his own himself.
After the camp had been fully assembled, Jandali brought the men together and outlined his plan. They gathered the necessary provisions and spread out through the surrounding cliffs, each orc hunkering down in a shadowy nook to wait. Jandali took the most dangerous post, kneeling in front of the hostage elf and beginning to build a fire a few feet from where she kneeled.
"It is rather cold, thank you." The elf bit out sarcastically.
"Hush, you." Jandali told her. He was listening hard, long ears cocked for the near imperceptible sound of wings on the night air.
Normally they would light no fires. With Ashenvale Outrunners always a threat, the group had tried to remain as undetectable as possible. Five fires lighting a camp and sending smoke into the air would easily be enough to have several of the female warriors sent up to find them. But one fire was nothing to set the alarm for. One fire was a traveler too tired or too poor to find an inn for the night; it wasn't the enemy on their doorstep. But perhaps it was enough to attract different attention.
Yes, there it was. Feathers pooling with air. A shushing whisper like a forest shifting.
Before he turned, Jandali saw the elf's face light with hope. He spun around to catch the few triumphant seconds of the blue and orange horsehawk rising over the cliff face like a malevolent moon. The creature looked mythical, noble; it's glossy wings were spread high and it's claws were poised to strike.
It arched ungracefully and hit the rock face with a smash.
Several orcs on the cliff sides above the horsehawk had thrown ropes across the entrance of the pocket, across the horsehawk's back. They jumped down from their lofty perches, pulling the creature to the ground with their collective body weight. The horsehawk thrashed, raking it's claws across one unfortunate orc who happened to stray too close to it's front feet. The rest of the orcs were quick to their work, moving to tie their ropes to more scrawny trees that had found purchase in the hard dirt. They would not hold the horsehawk long, but they didn't need to. The troll called briefly upon the spirits of the Earth, pleading for the trees to stand strong for a few more minutes.
Behind him, the elf was moaning, "No, no, no..."
Jandali calmly took his staff from it's holster on his back and held it to the elf's face. He carried a long wooden staff decorated with feathers and bones, topped with a blue gold-flecked stone. The stone quickly grew white hot with magic, lighting the subtle curve of his hostage's jaw like a heated iron brand.
"Be calm, beastie. Don't want me to ruin her pretty face, huh?" His thick jungle accent rose booming over the tumult of the horsehawk's struggling. Just as he figured, the creature immediately fell still. It's bright eyes shone steely in the light of the flames, intelligent and calculating.
"Don't listen," the elf yelled, and Jandali turned back to her, thrusting his glowing staff even closer to her cracked lips. He faced the horsehawk with a challenging look.
"You even spread one of those wings, Ah'm gonna be meltin' her nose off."
The orc Gar'Thog raised a crude spear over the creatures back, ready to bring it down. The horsehawk turned it's antlered eagle's head to it, but did not move other than that. For a moment the camp hung on those seconds, suspended in time. A cry from the elf broke the spell. Jandali, who had been looking at the horsehawk rather than his hostage, nearly jumped out of his skin when the elf actually ran past him. She had managed somehow to slip from her bonds, her wrists rubbed raw and bleeding profusely. She caught the orcs by surprise as well, wrestling the spear from him and swinging it at his head. It was obvious she didn't know how to use it but it did not stop her from brandishing it at the orcs. She twisted this way and that in what was surely a pointless, outnumbered endeavor. Her face was wild, feral, the white spikes of her hair sticking up in some spaces and matted to her head in others. Jandali's staff had burned an ugly welt on the corner of her mouth. She was pulling her lips back from her teeth like a wild animal exposing it's fangs.
"Easy, girly. Easy." Jandali took a few cautious steps forwards, holding his hand up for the orcs to stand down. Maybe it was something in that animal look of hers that inspired his pity. Or maybe it was the way his head compressed and began to ache.
Jandali did not like hostage situations, they ended with difficult events like this. Either way, he decided almost immediately it would be easier for him in the long run.
"Back off. Back offa me. Don't kill Devi Devi," the elf's voice cracked at the end. She tightened her white knuckle grip around the spear in a way that made Jandali know she wouldn't think twice to stick one of the men with it.
"Think, girlie. You outnumbered here, you fight and it's only gonna go bad for you. Just listen to me," the troll leaned on his staff, trying to appear totally in control, "Ah'll make a deal with you, eh? We bring the horsehawk with us, he don't make no trouble, you don't make no trouble, and this all go smoother for everyone. No one has to die, yeah?"
The elf's burning, bloodshot eyes bore into him. The spear shook in her nervous, desperate hands.
"If you had any honor you'd have killed me at the caravan."
"You ain't worth nothing to us dead, girlie. And neither is your mount. So put the spear down and we'll work it out."
She hesitated, and Jandali figured she wouldn't have surrendered had not the horsehawk announced in a booming, deep voice, "Do it." The elf choked out some harsh, grating sound from deep in her throat and dropped the spear. It clattered off the cliff rocks at her feet. The orcs rushed forwards to wrench her arms behind her back.
"Tie them tighter this time, you hear?" Jandali growled at them, "An' for the love of of Wilds, don't be knockin' her on her head again. She's gonna lose her sense."
Sucking in his breath, the troll paused to watch as the orcs carried out the last part of his plans. They were circling the compliant horsehawk's chest with ropes, effectively pinning his wings to his body. Soon, they would tie loops around the creature's ankles and string them together so that he only had enough slack to walk with. The horsehawk was watching Jandali with the same icy eyes, though he allowed the orcs to move about him freely.
As they worked, Jandali moved to stand before the great creature, saying softly, "She won't come to no harm if you do what we say."
"Can you promise me that?" The horsehawk demanded in common, his deep voice skeptical. But there was something like hope there.
"It's a simple hostage situation, no need either of you lose your heads."
"Promise me." The creature responded forcefully, his beak opening in a hiss.
"You have my word." The troll replied in Darnassian. He knew his accent was incredibly thick, but the creature seemed to understand. He nodded his head, though Jandali could tell he wasn't entirely trusting. Not that Jandali blamed him. The troll couldn't truly promise such things with the utmost of truth, but the words tasted convincing on his tongue.
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Hope you all enjoyed! Please, I love feedback, so if you have some make sure and hit the review button. The next chapter is back to Meviahd's point of view again, hopefully it's not too confusing. And to all those celebrating it, have a happy Turkey Day!