A/N: It's difficult to describe a battleground, especially when you can't have an ultimate winner or loser of it, permanently defeating the enemy. It's also, actually, odd to describe the various spells and abilities available to our characters without listing spell names and fighting abilities. Still, I try my best, and I try hard to type out the troll dialogue properly, too. Interesting to do it, really, but at least it's there.

As always, I hope you find the story entertaining and worth reading, and I thank those that do read it. Read... Review... Enjoy.

The Bonds We Make

Rain and War: Va'zaron and Maranti, Garek and Lucax.

A steady fall of rain hit the wooden roof of the inn, and the innkeeper had placed several pans to catch the water in the places where the broken building leaked. One area, where an entire corner as missing, was covered with some sort of cloth for the moment, to keep the water out. Orcs, Tauren, and trolls milled about the inn, some adventurers waiting for the rain to let up, others merchants looking for buyers.

A red-haired troll sat on one of the half-log benches of the inn, staring at the door. Were it not raining so steadily, he would be outside waiting at the wind riders, watching the sky for his friend. She was supposed to arrive today, however, with the rain he doubt she'd come on time. Few creatures liked to fly in such weather. With a sigh, he turned to the orc near him, searching through her wares for a meal.

Lightning flashed, and someone in the corner jumped. The troll grinned, amused, then turned as someone stood in the doorway. A removal of the hooded cloak revealed a Forsaken, rather than the female troll he was expecting. He eyed the undead warily, noting the twin daggers and the leather armor. A rogue, and he made sure to keep an eye on him, keeping a distance between his pockets and the rogues hands as the man shook himself off and sat at the bench.

After several minutes passed, the rogue turned to gaze at him, sneering. "You want something, troll?" he asked. The troll shook his head. "Then stop looking at me, or I'll cut open your stomach and eat your entrails," he said.w

"Ya could try, rogue," the troll said. The rogue rose to his feet, only to find them encased in ice. Looking down, then at the troll, he smirked.

"Mage," he stated. The troll merely stared at him, preparing a spell should the rogue attack. They stared at each other, glowing yellow orbs meeting red-brown eyes. The rogue sat down again, and snorted. "Not worth the time." The troll canceled his spell, and looked again at the doorway. Still no sign of her, and the sky was getting darker. Night was falling, and he doubted she would arrive today. Standing, he headed for the second story to sleep for the night.

The rogue watched the troll leave, then got up to go stand at the doorway, staring out into the rain. At one time his people, when he'd lived, had held orcs captive here. Now those same orcs controlled the camp, calling it Hammerfall. He sneered at the place, and at the orcs nearby. To think that he was now allies with these beasts.

He turned his head as he saw a dark figure move towards him, pale yellow eyes peering out from a hood. He waited until his ally was near before holding out a hand. The hooded Forsaken grasped his hand, and the two stared at each other. "Ready for battle?" he asked his companion. A slow nod from beneath the hood.

"Yes, Garek. In the morning, a group of others are prepared to fight in the Basin, to aid the Defilers," he said. The rogue nodded.

"Good. And what of the humans? How strong are their forces?"

"Strong individually, weak as a whole. Typical battle, likely to be chaotic. The fools think only of their own glory."

"Ha ha, yes. That is one good thing about this allegiance with the Horde, they work together more often than the Alliance. Good, so we'll gain the resources and wipe out a few people along the way. I do love a good bloodbath," the rogue said, laughing.

"As do I, my friend. As do I. But I prefer to twist their bodies with pain... you do the actual bloodletting," the man said.

"Oh, ha ha, yes. We work well with the shadows, you and I. Tomorrow shall be a morbidly wonderful day. Come, let us rest, Lucax. Not that we sleep in these forms..." the rogue said, a scowl crossing his face.

"Better to save our energy, though. Rest does that, at least," Lucax said as he entered the inn.

Flying in the rain was a horrible, miserable experience, Maranti thought as she clung desperately to the bat she rode. It had been merely cloudy when she left the Undercity. And then, it had begun raining, and the bat seemed to lose track of it's path. A constant, pelting downpour fell upon them, and Maranti's cloak would not stay over her as the wind blew it back. She was glad the bat had a superior way of 'seeing' it's surroundings, although how precisely she wasn't sure. She, at least, could see nothing beyond the dark sky and the rain.

She had planned to meet Va'zaron earlier in the day, and now she would be late. While she knew he was a patient troll, she still felt regretful about the delay. He could have been out adventuring, and knowing him, had stayed at the inn to await her arrival. Hours of boredom, and all because of the rain. She despised it, and yet wished some would fall in her home of Durotar, to wet the thirsty ground. It never did, but over here in the Eastern Kingdoms, it seemed to fall quite often. Especially when she was traveling, curse it.

The bat began its descension, and she hoped they were reaching Hammerfall. Given the weather, though, she'd settle for any Horde-controlled town, though since she knew not where she was anymore, she didn't know what the nearest one was. Revantusk Village, with her troll kind? Or Tarren Mill, surrounded by those eerie Forsaken?

Landing on it's perch, an orc female came out from her covering to help Maranti down from the creature so that it could go hang out of the rain. Looking around, she saw the camp, repairs and damaged buildings everywhere. Yes, Hammerfall, good. The right place. Turning to the orc, she asked if her companion had arrived. A shrug, and the orc went to hide out of the downpour.

Heading towards the inn, Maranti stopped as she heard two Forsaken speaking. They mentioned a battle tomorrow, one of the many, constant fights in these lands, before entering the inn. Following after them and shaking off her soaked cloak, she mused over what they'd said. If a battle was in the works for tomorrow, then perhaps she and Va'zaron could join. They had come out here to help their allies with their troubles here in the Arathi Highlands, and fighting the humans was certainly a problemw.

She sat at a table, and the innkeeper brought her a plate of hot food, and a mug of ale. Grateful, she dug in heartily. She was sure Va'zaron would be interested, as they both loved to fight, and disliked the humans anyways. Tomorrow would be a good day, if the weather let up. If not, there were plenty of other services a good soldier of the Horde could do.

Finishing her meal, she left some coins for the innkeeper and went up to the second story. She would rest, and tell Va'zaron about her plans in the morning, once she was dry and rested. Perhaps they may even join with the two Forsaken, much as she distrusted them, in the battle. As long as they won, she would be a content troll.

Early the next morning, Va'zaron awoke to see many purple braids hovering over his face, framing a pretty, yet haughty, female troll. He blinked and pulled away slightly. "Mornin', Maranti," he yawned. She grinned.

"Mornin', Va'zaron. Sleep well?" she asked. He nodded; the hammock had been comfortable enough, given it was an inn bed. "I know wat we can do today," she said. He looked at her. "Der be a battle planned today, in the Basin. I heard two Forsaken talkin' 'bout it. Wanna join?" she asked. He thought it over; fight members of the Alliance to help his allies, or fight animals and monsters.

"Ya, I be joinin'. Sounds like fun, eh?" he said. She grinned, and tossed his bag at him.

"T'ought so. Get dressed, and I go find a Defiler to let 'em know we be joinin' in da battle," she said as she left the room. He lay there long enough to admire her backside, then stretched and donned his robes. His staff was nearby, leaning against the wall, and his wand was comfortably tucked inside the pocket of the robe. Pulling on his gloves and boots, and cinching the belt around his waist, he stood, grabbed his staff, and headed downstairs.

He froze as he saw the rogue from last night talking to Maranti, another cloaked and hooded Forsaken lurking in the shadows. Damn, he should have known they'd be here for the battle as well. He approached slowly, sitting at a bench next to an eating orc, and began going through his bag. A few potions, a scroll, but his supply of food and water were low. He'd need to make more, for both him and Maranti. His runes were dangerously low as well; he'd need to buy more.

Maranti wasn't exactly fond of the rogue she spoke to; he was rude and short with her, but he agreed to their joining him and the others. She'd also noticed his glare as Va'zaron had joined them in the room. Still, he was an ally, and like or dislike, she would have to work with him. She just wished that the Forsaken didn't have to be so contentious sometimes. Not that all were, but lately she'd been ill-fated to find a decent one.

The rogue motioned to the Forsaken behind him. "Go let the others know a priest and mage will be helping us, Lucax," he said. The warlock nodded, and left the room. Sneering at the troll female, he looked her over. "Make sure you're ready for this, priestess. I won't tolerate weak or ill-prepared fighters in this battle; the Defiler's need the resources too badly," he said. She looked offended, but before she could protest, he turned and left the room.

"Dat's watcha get for workin' with da Forsaken, Maranti," Va'zaron said behind her. She snorted and turned to see him conjuring several flasks of water and loaves of bread.

"I know dat, Va'zaron. Some are alright, but such like him are notin' but trouble," she said as she too searched through her bags. Same as him; potions and scrolls, as she'd been prepared to hunt today.

"Heal! I need a heal!" came a cry to her left. Maranti stopped the shadowy spell she'd been about to cast, and turned the energy into a healing one for the warrior. It hit him a second before death, and the green-skinned fighter pushed back his attacker. A blast of ice shot past her, and she followed it to see a cat fall back from it's attack on her. A hunter stood further behind it, a tall, purple-skinned elf pulling the bowstring back, an arrow prepared. She cast a word of pain at it, and psychically screamed at the cat, sending it and a stealthed rogue fleeing. She grinned at seeing the rogue, but sent her divine and shadow magics at the hunter while Va'zaron, now next to her, did the same.

By the time the rogue returned to them, the hunter was dead upon the ground. The rogue, short, childlike in appearance, suddenly winced as an agonizing curse hit him. Va'zaron spared a glance at the warlock several yards away before sending out an cone-like blast of magic and ice at the rogue. Together, the three casters took down the rogue and a priest attempting to heal the orc's newest prey. Finished, they turned to gaze down at where a battle ensued around a blacksmith building. The orc raced down the hill to aid them, whereas Maranti, Va'zaron, and Lucax stayed where they were, protecting the lumber mill. Garek crept towards them from the other side, muttering about oncoming attackers.

They turned in time to face the druid, the blue-skinned, hooved and horned shaman, and a warrior. Spells flew from both sides, and the druid was met with a succubus from the warlock. He tried to get past the demon to crush the dark caster, but found himself slowed horribly by a frost spell. The warrior, attempting to crush the priest, went fleeing from a fear spell, before being turned into a sheep. The shaman hesitated a moment too long, suddenly afraid of the three casters she saw, and her uncertainty caused her to not notice Garek sneaking behind her. He quickly disposed of her with his swift, merciless slashes and stabs, while her health slowly drained away from their spells.

Soon, the attackers were all dead, and the four Horde defenders again looked down at the blacksmith. They had captured it and it's resources, and savage cheers from the mine showed they had won that, too. The rogue came to stand next to Maranti, a sadistic grin across his rotting face.

"More Alliance dead. Good. We'll win this, and hold these points for several days now. Hopefully weeks," he commented. She nodded, and Va'zaron spoke up.

"Dey'll keep attackin, dough, won't dey?" Lucax nodded, keeping a paranoid lookout for more attackers.

"Of course; they always do. Either we'll win today's battle and hold the food and trade goods for several days... Or we'll reach another standstill, and retreat until more forces are gathered," he said.

"Dis happens often, den? No winner stayin on top?" Maranti asked, frowning. Garek shook his head.

"No, too many other fighters coming to join the battle, sometimes for us, sometimes for them. We can't keep anything for longer than a few weeks, but we work hard to keep it and get what we can from what we get," he said. Before she could question him further, Lucax shouted out a warning and Va'zaron sent out a wave of arcane magic, revealing a human rogue near them. With a battle cry, she turned to attack not body but mind as they returned to defending their hill. They would win the Arathi Basin for today.

"For da Horde!" the trolls yelled out as they raised a toast with the other members of the Horde. Around them, several orc, Tauren, trolls, and even some elves and Forsaken, were holding up mugs of ale, and several people were drunk already. Their cheer was answered by more "For The Horde!" from the others. Maranti hung onto Va'zaron's arm as she downed her alcohol, before loudly asking for more.

Several people were retelling their battles in the Arathi Basin, how one member of the Alliance had gone down screaming, or how this one got several bad cuts, but he'd triumphed over his enemies. Many were bandaged from their efforts, and Maranti and Va'zaron were no different. But they had won.

Lucax and Garek sat in their own corner, glaring distastefully at their companions. "Fools, as if this victory means the battles won..." Garek muttered. Lucax nodded behind his customary hood.

"It's not nearly over; we merely pushed them back for now. They'll be back, and with larger numbers. Most of these idiots will have gone off by then, thinking their work done."

"Still, I think we set the League of Arathor quite well today... the more we separate them from their allies in the south, those filthy dwarves, the better. Do we have enough workers to get what we need from the land?" he asked. Lucax again nodded.

"The farmers have begun working hard, and the miners as well," he said. They sat in silence before he spoke up again. "Those two trolls today, they did well," he stated. Garek scowled, but nodded.

"For such a savage race, yes they did. They make good..." he paused, the grinned. "'Allies', suitable for sending in to help sow chaos. Perhaps while the Alliance are recuperating, we can head down to the port town of Menethil Harbor, cause some destruction and damage against them there," he said. Lucax slowly grinned.

"Sounds perfect."

"Va'zaron, ya did good today!" Maranti stated proudly to her companion. He grinned at her as they both down yet another mug, joining their allies in a quickly approaching state of drunken celebration.

"Ya, I did. An' so did you, Mar'. We fought good, and not too bad of a scratch on eitha of us, eh?" he said with a grin. She beamed.

"I be good at healin', Va'zaron," she replied.

"Which be good, Mar', ya be much too pretty ta get all cut up," he said before leaning forward to kiss her. Pleasantly surprised, she laughed before returning the kiss. She could taste the alcohol on him, and enjoyed it.

Breaking away, they continued drinking and cheering each other on before they kissed again, and made their way upstairs to celebrate in other ways.