Author's Note: World of Warcraft is copyright Blizzard Entertainment. Used without permission or profit.
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"Why should I heal her?" the druid asked, crossing her arms and standing before Llenrus.
He sighed at her. "Because I'm in charge here, and it's an order."
"She's a blood elf."
"Our own laws dictate that we are responsible for the safety and health of any prisoners we take," he explained patiently.
"Why didn't you leave her be, then?"
"Because I don't kill children," he finally snapped. "The boy wouldn't survive by himself, and she's hardly an adult either. Look at her." He motioned toward the open tent that Hrolf was standing before, guarding it. It was probably not needed. The young blood elf had barely had to strength to walk by the time they got to the rallying point. She lay in there with her eyes closed and shivering as the little orc talked to her quietly, evidently telling her a story. "I doubt she has even reached halfway mark of her first century."
The woman glanced inside and frowned slightly. "It's not our fault they let someone so young fight. She's still a Horde soldier."
"I doubt they have anyone else to send. Probably even fewer now," he said. "We need to find out if what she says was true. We can't get any information from her if she's dead, and I'm not going to rely on a toddler's testimony. Now go do as I said, Nightdew. Please?"
The druid, Ca'lyn Nightdew, nodded curtly and walked inside, kneeling next to the sin'dorei. Hrolf and Llenrus followed. The orcling jumped slightly and backed away as they approached, but there was not much room in the tent and he seemed reticent to leave his caretaker. Still, the slight commotion made the girl open her eye and look around blearily. She shrunk away slightly from the druid.
"Relax, girl," Ca'lyn said in Common with forced gentleness. "I can heal your wounds, at least somewhat. Where all are you injured?"
Belidora looked at her but did not respond. Her skin was pale and damp and she looked slightly confused, her one eye unfocused.
Ca'lyn bit her lip and reached down. "I need to remove your armor, girl, so I can see. Just relax."
The sin'dorei quickly shrunk away again, pushing the night elf's hand away. She glanced at the two men nervously and shook her head. Her breathing quickly became even more rapid.
Hrolf stepped forward and crouched down. He reached up to his neck and unfastened his cloak, taking it off and draping it over the girl. "Here. Keep this on. You're cold, aren't you?" he said quietly. Belidora numbly reached up and fingered the soft fur, gripping it in a soot blackened hand and nodded. She did not thank him, but at least she stopped hyperventilating.
"We'll take our leave of you ladies," Llenrus said quietly to Ca'lyn in Common, and then switched to Orcish. It was a difficult language for him to speak legibly. "Come now, child. My friend needs to check under your friend's clothes. It's not proper for us men to be in here for that."
Atas looked over at Belidora nervously and whispered something that Llenrus could not quite hear. Still, the girl nodded dumbly and he stood up, following Llenrus and Hrolf out of the tent. The night elf looked over at the man. "That was surprisingly kind of you to give her your cloak."
The Gilnean did not respond for a few seconds, then snorted. "Can't have her dying. We need to find out what's going on. See if she's telling the truth."
"Well, something obviously happened," Llenrus replied. "And she evidently blames us for it." He reached back and put his hand on the orc's shoulder, guiding him along gently. They did not seem to have much to fear of the boy overhearing something. He evidently did not understand any Common. They got to a clearing where he guided to the orc to a rock, lifted him up on it, and let him have a seat. "What's your name?" he asked, switching to the awkward language again. Obviously he knew the answer, but he wished to put the child at ease.
The boy hesitated, looking back and forth between the two men, then finally said quietly, "Atas."
"My name is Llenrus. This is Hrolf."
The boy nodded silently, looking back down. "When can we leave?" he whined.
"I don't know. Your friend is hurt. She can't go anywhere," Llenrus said.
"You attacked us."
"Yes. Well, she's an enemy soldier. We couldn't have her getting her friends to come get us," he said. There was no use lying about it, after all. "We did not know that she was that badly hurt, though. Can you tell me how she was hurt?"
Atas frowned at them, then looked down at the ground. "Protecting me."
"Oh? Well, that's very brave of her. What was she protecting you from?"
"When can we leave?" Atas blurted out again. "We need to go see the Warchief. That's where she said we were going. The Warchief will protect us."
"I told you, not right now. Your elf friend needs to rest," he repeated. "Now, can you please tell me who did this to her? It's very important. We may be able to get some of our friends to help you."
"No you won't," he said, narrowing his eyes. "You're evil. I don't trust you."
"I'm only asking so I can try to help your friend. It's harder for Ca'lyn to heal her if she does not know how the injury occurred," he said, ignoring the insult completely. "Ca'lyn is a druid. You have druids where you live, yes?"
Atas hesitated slightly. "In Orgrimmar. Trolls and Tauren," he said, frowning, then narrowed his eyes again. "I want to go back and see Miss Belidora," he demanded sliding off of the rock and trying to walk back toward the tent. "I have to protect her. She said after she got hurt that she needed a brave warrior to protect her and that's me."
Llenrus quickly got in front of him and caught him by the shoulder, stopping him as gently as he could. "That's . . . very noble, brave warrior. The way you can help your friend is to tell us what is going on, though. I promise you, we will help protect you both if we only know what it is we're facing. Sometimes . . . things happen where we have to work together, even if we do not always get along."
Atas frowned and kicked up some dust. He obviously did not want to talk, but finally he said quietly. "A demon killed everyone. All the elves," he said.
"A demon . . . killed everyone?" Llenrus asked quietly. "How do you know? What exactly happened?"
"We were fishing, out in the woods. There was some yelling and Miss Belidora grabbed me and everything turned blue and purple. Now everyone's dead. We stole one of those birds to go find the Warchief so she can protect us."
Llenrus frowned and translated the information back to Hrolf.
The Gilnean frowned. "The kid doesn't make any sense. He doesn't know what in the fel is going on. You said that girl had arcane burns."
"She does. I'm certain of it," Llenrus replied, then looked back down at the boy, switching back to Orcish. "You said a demon did this? That doesn't make sense, child. Perhaps one of the blood elves had an accident while experimenting with arcane magic."
Atas growled at them, which coming from an orcling, was a much less threatening gesture than it would be in about twenty years. "It wasn't an elf. It was a demon," he said stubbornly and pointed at Hrolf. "A demon like him."