Eyes of the Beast

AzureusBunny

I do not own Warcraft or any games in the series.

Used

The hellish volume of the day crowd withered in comparison to the customers of the night. The bar beneath me shook with every tide of howling gibberish released by the drinkers. The gnome I was watching earlier had passed out on the table, his human companions were long gone. He was now surrounded by gruff looking dwarfs that used his outstretched hands like coasters. One dwarf was even rummaging through the gnome's pockets, placing whatever he could find on the table. His friends then proceeded to pick out what they wanted, but none of it appeared to be very valuable. My favorite item was a small rubber ducky that the gnome had in his shirt pocket. The dwarfs proceeded to deface the ducky with a scratched in mustache.

"Ey' what are ye'? My mascot?" the bartender said, "You should get 'fore someone decides to use ye' as a napkin!" He used his drying cloth in an attempt to scare me away, but I merely retreated to the base of an empty table.

A sense of déjà vu washed over me as I guided myself through the vast forests of table and chair legs. Above me, people banged their cups against the tables sounding like crashes of thunder in my ears. Often times I would step in puddles which I only hoped was beer. I had no idea if humans soiled themselves when drunk, but the thought of it was repulsing. Making my way to a relatively safe corner, I turned to survey the room.

Besides the passed out gnome, I recognized one other face of the day crowd. That same weird man who stared at me still sat in the same position, this time reading a worn book instead of drinking. Our first little eye encounter proved far too awkward for me to notice his features, but at a distance he seemed much less threatening. Out of all the men in the bar, he was by far the fairest of skin. His soft complexion almost made him look like a woman. A maroon colored scarf draped around his neck, covering his ears.

"I'm the champion!" a plump man shot out of his seat, turning over his mug to show his achievement

"Damn! This is a disgrace!" the dwarf in the seat adjacent exclaimed. He did his best to put on an angry face, but in his intoxication he just looked like an idiot.

"I'm the cham-" the human trailed off as he collapsed, bringing the table down with him. The tavern rained beer as the leftovers flew into the air. Drops of blood pooled where the man had slammed his head to the floor.

With mild concern I stepped out of my corner to obtain a better view, but in doing so I happened to attract the attention of a nearby man.

"Ey! Don't worry! I'll clean this mess up!" the man shouted to his friends.

With alarming alacrity, the man got to his feet and turned in my direction. There was no scintilla of doubt about what he intended. Kicking out with my hind legs, I started a sprint to the door. My head burst out into the cold night, but a rough, callused hand grasped my tail. I yelped in surprise as I was dragged backwards. My claws dug into the doorway to little avail. Soon I found myself dangling upside down, disturbingly close the the man's own face. I could feel the alcohol in his breath as he breathed warm air on my fur. The terrible turned to horrific as I felt myself slammed onto the wet floor. The man then proceeded to drag me across the spilled beer, treating my fur like an absorbent towel. This was a fate far worse than being a napkin!

The floor was no dryer when he was finished. He did a marvelous job in making my fur beer flavored, though. I collapsed from mild shock when he placed me back down. Roars of laughter from drunken men mocked me as I lay there. The weight of the fermented liquid felt like lead on my back, keeping me nearly bolted to the floor. My hesitation cost me greatly as I was picked up again.

"Eh! Does anyone want my towel?" he raised me high and brandished me like a sword, "Er'else I'm gonna' throw it away!"

I was too overwhelmed with chagrin to really care anymore.

I caught a glimpse of the bartender in the corner of my eye. He didn't laugh with the other drunk fools, but neither did he seem to pay attention. Instead he faced away, drying his mugs with a posture that said, "I warned ya'."

"I want it," barked a voice from somewhere I couldn't place.

With a snap of his wrist, my tormentor flung me across the room. A spike pain shot through my leg as I landed a wooden table. The pain burned down to one of my paws with no hint of waning. I must've tipped over another mug with my crash, for I felt more of the now dreaded liquid spill under my cheek.

The bartender waved his arms in the air, commanding attention from the drunks.

"The Illuminated Spyglass is closed," he hesitated, taking a good look at the floor. Beer, cat fur, blood, and an upturned table lay in the middle of the main walkway. "Closed for emergency cleaning," he finished.

No one complained about being ousted from the facility, in fact much they exchanged much laughter in their exit. It almost seemed as if nothing had happened at all. I felt my weary body scooped up by a gentle pair of hands.

"You can stay here," the bartender called from across the room. If the bartender wasn't holding me, who was?

I opened my beer soaked eyes to find myself staring into a thick maroon scarf.

"Much thanks, seignior," my carrier said. His voice was definitely of a man, but it seemed too smooth to be that of a normal pub goer.

The bartender proceeded to mop the floors, standing the table back to its original spot. He frowned when he noticed a slight chip on its edge.

"It's not a problem, but how long can you stay in Stormwind without being discovered?"

"Humans aren't the brightest of people, Garret," the man relieved himself of the over-sized scarf.

I may have involuntarily consumed more than my share of alcohol that night, but I swore that I saw sharp, pointed tips on his ears. This turned out to be an abstruse puzzle. The only race with pointy ears would be the elves, but elves only came in darker shades of blue and purple! Perhaps this was an odd albino version of the elves.

"Still yet, Doctor Quello," Garret said, now examining his floor, "Once an educated man takes a stab at you, you're finished."

"It's okay. I don't get out often."

"Why tonight then?"

"Boredom," Quello smiled. He rocked me like a little child in his arms. The situation started to grow uncomfortable, but I hadn't the energy to struggle.

Garret frowned, unsatisfied with the answer.

"Talk to me," a voice called.

I shivered a little at hearing the voice. It felt as if the words echoed in my brain.

"Hello?" the voice came again. It sounded awfully like Doctor Quello.

Garret continued with his cleaning, oblivious to the voice. I shook my head in an attempt to lose it.

"Are you dumb?"

Being contacted like this was a feeling I had not experienced in ages. Often times I exchanged miniature telepathic conversations with my master, but he mentioned to me once about it being a talent only he possessed.

You are Doctor Longrad's kitty are you not?

I could feel my blood freeze cold. The mention of the name put my brain in abeyance.

"Y-yes," my thoughts were stuttered.

"Good, I thought I might have wrong there! I'm Doctor Quello! Who are you?"

"Uhm," I hesitated, "Sasha."

I really couldn't tell if the alcohol in my brain spawned this illusion or not.

"That's a good name, but it looks like you've twisted an ankle.

"Garret," Quello called out, "The cat has an injury, but I have nothing to ameliorate the pain."

Without spoken words, Garret descended into the cellar with mop in hand.

"We need to clean you off as well," Quello sounded much more sympathetic than with his conversations with Garret.

"Uh, Doctor? Are you an Elf?"

"What kind of stupid question is that? Do I look the part of a human?"

"Uhm," I was quite afraid of offending the first man I've talked to in a year, "But you aren't purplish."

Quello chuckled out loud and looked down at me with eyes almost filled with pity.

"You've been spending way too much time around these Alliance folk, but for now, I guess think of me as a different kind of elf."

Garret came back with a small vial of disgusting green fluid. He passed it off to Quello who pocketed the substance.

"I think I'll take the cat with me," Quello proclaimed in a loud voice. It seemed odd because Garret was the only one to hear.

"You deserve much better care than what this human can provide."

Garret sighed, "Do what you want, but you'd best leave before those damned night guards come for drinks."

"Such a ribald tongue you have! They will be no threat," Quello laughed, getting to his feet.

The night air brushed against my face as we walked. Frigid nights proved unforgiving in the past, but perhaps I wouldn't have to face its wrath this time around. It looked like I was being catnapped for the night.

"And I'm sure you'll recognize your bed tonight."

A/N: I'm not really a fan of the telepathic communication, but this chapter will probably contain the most of all of them.

When Quello asked "Are you dumb?" he was referring to the 'dumb' which means unable to speak.

If you missed it, Quello is a Blood Elf.

The titles of the chapters are intended to have two meanings per chapter. One will be obvious, while the other more obscure and revealing of either the characters or plot.

Review Response:

Nara Bluestar: I'll try to edit better in the future! I'm not going to edit previous chapters for the sake of tracking my writing growth, though.

Northmen: It's funny. I actually thought I wasn't putting long enough details in my writing oO... I'll try to keep the descriptions short without losing the meaning.

Kishuroxmysox: :O. Alas, Garret is a human...

Sareya: I'm not a roleplayer. I don't even understand how the process works :(

python862: I like the "Be Happy" you put at the end of comments, :D.

Thanks for the reviews!