Chapter Two: The Hunter.

They have her, and it's my fault. I could kill myself for letting her go. Last night she was so peaceful, so assuring. I woke up this morning and bought her breakfast; I went to her room and found it empty. She didn't even leave me a note, but she didn't have to, I knew what she'd done.

Humans, all heart and no brain.

But that's why I fell in love with her, isn't it? Despite everything, I am in love with her and she doesn't even know it. I hate myself. Why is it so difficult to say three simple words? I love you. My King and my country would kill me for this but I love you. I miss your smile, I miss your sharp tongue, I miss your scent... And now you're locked away in some icy prison I imagine, and you don't even know that I love you.

How did this happen? How did I fall for a human of all things and then loose her so quickly? How can I even begin to explain?

xXx

The rogue stood in the light of my flare. Her wide, violet eyes reflected shock, and fear. I recognized her as the dense human who had tried to force me off the cannon platform earlier. I could see she was still suffering from the punishment I had inflicted upon her. I smiled at this, and drew my arrow; I hated the Alliance with a vengeance.

Her body relaxed, faced with certain death she simply gave up. Weakling. Her lack of will sickened me. I released my arrow with satisfaction. Without warning her arm flew out in front of her as if possessed and snatched the arrow. I was horrified; I had never in all of my life seen someone do that. I was also severely disappointed. Perhaps there is more to humans then we give them credit for. I had always thought of them as thickheaded simpletons who judge every other race with self imposed righteousness. I hated them- and I was half human myself. The humans considered themselves far too clean to allow a half blood among their midst and I regarded them with equal contempt. Only the Horde recognized me for my invaluable skill.

I recovered as quickly as my mind would allow and drew the second arrow, but it was to no avail. She was on top of me before I could react, destroying my bow with inhuman ability. My daggers were my last resort, but she was very quick. Before I knew it I had been disarmed and stabbed. Within moments I was on my back, bleeding in the sand, screaming every curse I knew at her. The human quickly knelt and yanked the dagger out of my leg. I swore she seemed to be intent on causing me as much suffering as possible.

She stared at me for a moment, concern flittering across her dull face. She grumbled in common and started to bandage my leg. I thought it an odd time to feel remorse, but humans are incredibly fickle minded so I paid the act little attention. On closer examination, I realized I had misjudged her looks severely. Her skin was a warm peachy color, her cheek bones were high and her nose was well set with a light spray of freckles. Her eyes were large, and yes, purple. The dark violet orbs were framed with thick brown eyelashes, dark enough to be flattering, but light enough to pick up glints of the golden, setting sun. Her upper lip was too thin, and her lower lip was too full... the imperfection was fascinating. Her hair was long and her blunt cut bangs almost obscured her eyes. It was of thick body and pin straight, it fell around her face like bronze curtains.

I broke away from my train of thought when I realized she was not only healing me, but she was doing it the paladin way... with prayer. I was quite bewildered at this, I could have sworn she was a rogue, I had seen her in stealth. I scanned her armor quickly; it was leather. Her weapons? Daggers. Yep, definitely a rogue. It couldn't be possible; rogues and paladins functioned upon very different belief systems, at least in my fraction they did. I was learning an uncomfortable amount about the human psyche, and I didn't like it.

I glared at her. Go away. I tried to communicate silently. She growled some sort of human threat at me as she shakily stood. I understood some of what she had said, it was a warning.

"It is you who will suffer if we cross paths again, human," I announced.

She stared at me blankly for a few seconds. I was suddenly struck with a feeling a familiarity. Had I seen her before? Was that recognition that sparkled deep in those violet eyes? Then in a breath, she was gone.

xXx

I buried my pet and headed back to the mainland. I found my fraction just as they were celebrating their victory. My self appointed friend, Tharse, ran up to me and slapped me on the shoulder.

"Yah just missed it, Rolin. Tha Alliance just tucked their tails between their legs and crawled home!" Tharse was a troll of few words; he must have been quite pleased with the outcome.

"I had to bury Roman," I said darkly.

Tharse shook his head slowly, "Damn Alliance."

"I couldn't agree more." The rogue's face came into my mind, and I became disgusted with myself. "I could not agree more," I added with more finality.

Tharse grinned suddenly, showing how many teeth he was missing. "We need ta get you to a bar mon. I know a loooovely she troll, goes by the name of-Etha? Mebbie Bertha..."

I rubbed my sore leg, "Bar yes. Bertha..." I grimaced. Tharse laughed loudly, blasting me with foul breath. This is the company I keep. I thought with mild aversion. I didn't mind Tharse in particular, but trolls in general annoyed me. I wasn't sure if it was their dialect or their odor, but trolls aggravated me nearly as much as humans.

xXx

Tharse and I walked on the dusty road to Origomar. I would have vastly preferred a bar in Silver Moon, but Tharse was a very pushy sort. I usually found it far more suitable to go along with the troll than to argue with him. The sounds and smells were overwhelming as we entered the city. Roasting meat, thick dust, wild children screaming happily and shopkeepers advertising loudly. I thought longingly of the cool, shaded streets of Silver Moon City. I could almost taste the spiced wines and fine foods that were served in my home capital.

A dire wolf snarled and lunged at my approach, his orc rider grinned maliciously. "He doesn't like you," the green skinned humanoid said loudly.

I raised a brow in amusement. You'd think we weren't on the same fraction. Tharse slung his arm over my shoulder, "The elf's with me mon."

The orc smirked, "Watch your step... elf."

I glanced down to see my foot buried in wolf manure. "Oh for the love of-!"

Tharse interrupted me with a glare, "Try not ta embarrass me."

I glared, then kicked my shoe clean and spat in the dirt, which seemed to satisfy the orc and Tharse. We turned and sauntered into the bar with our remaining shreds of dignity. Tharse proceeded to order mugs of foamy swill the trolls called 'pink skin beer'. Lovely, a drink that humans brewed and trolls sold. Couldn't get much worse, could it? Luckily I noticed some wanted flyers pinned to the wall by the door. The rewards were quite high and I was looking for any excuse to put off the inevitable sampling of pink skin swill, so I walked over to take a look. Among the flyers was the face of my violet eyed rogue-err-the rogue. The sketch was crude but recognizable; the artist had captured her youthful innocence and limited human beauty.

Apparently the instigator of this flier did not find her so innocent; the reward for her retrieval was 5000 gold; dead or alive. Also offered was 300 gold down payment if you met with the instigator to eliminate completion. It was signed by the highly sought after, Relkin, an orc bounty collector with no compunctions about human trafficking.

Tharse reached past me and yanked the flyer off the wall, "5k for a little sheila? It'd be a shame ta drop off somethin' that good looking... But I could use tha cash, yah game?"

I glared at him, "Humans are revolting."

Tharse laughed, "They kinda weak lookin' in tha face area, but I wouldn't turn one down if ya know what I mean-"

"I get it." I snatched the flyer from him and feigned interest, "Are you really that hard up for funds?"

Tharse shrugged and tried to hide a grin, "Think of tha kinds, mon."

"You don't have children," I stated flatly.

Tharse grabbed the flyer out of my hands, "Yah but iffa had 'em they'd be stavin' by now. Yah know mah daggers have gone ta crap-and they're like mah kids." He stuffed the flyer in his pocket, "Besides, Laughtalie's hurtin' for gold too."

I turned and walked towards the bar counter, "How is your sister?"

He beamed with pride, "Growin' up, I hafta beat tha blokes off with a stick, mon."

I sipped the flat ale, "Good for her."

Tharse ignored my sarcasm, "So are yah comin' with me or do I hafta haul the defenseless sheila off by myself?"

I snorted, "Defenseless."

"We'd need a fourth still... " Tharse droned on, still ignoring my sullen manner. "Flier said she was a rogue, I bet a warlock could help Laughtalie pin 'er down while we go in for tha kill." The troll swigged a large gulp of his ale. "Us rogues are sneaky bastards," he added with a grin.

It looked as if the hunting party was being formed without my consent. I sighed and stared into my drink. I decided I wasn't going, no matter what.