"Chock Full of Chok'sul"
The tenuous state of peace in the port town was augmented by the patrolling guards and soldiers practicing their sword and ranged skills. It was of some comfort to Rumer that the graveyard by the main gate was small.
From what she'd heard, Theramore had been the only Alliance military stronghold on the continent, and political tension between its residents was high. Not only did they have to contend with frequent attacks from the sea monster, Tethyr, but from Ratchet pirates invading the rocky island as well. If an unauthorized ship dared sail near the port, it fell victim to the army's cannon fire.
"All I smell is Human," Pasha said, his nose twitching.
"Then it should be easy for someone to remember a Gnome passing through."
They approached the Dwarven flightmaster. "I'm looking for a Gnome," she said.
"Only two Gnomes be here. The engineer, ole Caz Twosprocket, and Babs Fizzletourque, who lives out at the lighthouse."
Pasha raised an eyebrow as Rumer shrugged.
"The one I'm looking for is a mage. He might have stopped here within the last few months."
The Dwarf stroked his long beard in contemplation. "Go see Babs. She may be far from land, but she keeps her eye on things."
Rumer flipped the flightmaster a few loose coins in appreciation for his help.
Stopping halfway down the path to the rocky shore, Pasha hissed at the lapping waves. "You don't mean to cross here, do you?"
She turned in disbelief. "It's a lighthouse. On an island."
"I'm not going," Pasha said and sat down on his haunches.
Knowing better than to argue with the stubborn cat, she said, "Fine. You stay here and I'll swim over."
"You're not getting on my back all sopping wet."
Rumer advanced on Pasha and, with hands on her hips, said, "Then you won't eat."
"I'm sure I can fend for myself."
She huffed and unstrapped her daggers then dove into the murky water, swimming several meters to the small, rocky outcropping with the lighthouse.
A female Gnome was waiting for her when she emerged from the water. She was diminutive in size, but her cone-shaped bun added at least another foot to her stature. Her eyes were large and round and her countenance cheerful.
"Babs Fizzletourque?" Rumer asked.
"Greetings," she said in a pleasant, high-pitched voice. "What can I do for you?"
"I'm looking for someone." Rumer paused to wring out her soaking hair. "A Gnome mage named Elder Glittergold. I have it on good authority that he might have visited Theramore recently. I need to find him. Do you know him?"
Babs giggled behind her hand, and a blush crept over her cheeks. "I certainly do."
Rumer smiled to herself. It was obvious from the little lighthouse keeper's reaction she was smitten.
"He's at Beezil's Wreck in the marsh tinkering with the machine that crashed there."
"Great. Can you show me the way?"
Babs took a stick and drew a map in the sandy earth, then her face scrunched up and her eyes grew wider. "Is that mold growing on your armor?"
Following the Gnome's gaze, Rumer's eyes landed on the dark green patches of fungus living on the knees of her leggings. She reddened in embarrassment.
"There's a tanner in the city you can purchase new armor from. And you probably should. Glitter has an aversion to odor."
Lovely, Rumer thought. Just what she needed.
Just as she was about to dive back into the water, Babs stopped her. "Take my boat, and tell him his supper is getting cold."
Pasha wasn't waiting for her when she landed ashore. Instead, she witnessed him snatching freshly caught fish off a drying rack and running off to dine in peace and safety. The fishing supplier was none too thrilled, and he chased after Pasha waving a fishing pole and shouting obscenities.
Taking advantage of the distraction, Rumer scooped up the rest of the fish and hid them in her bag. She set off to find the tanner.
Her new armor was stiff, but it smelled like leather and it wasn't discolored from mold and blood. She would get used to it somehow, though her days of pick-pocketing were over until she stopped creaking.
She found Pasha basking in the sun along one of the catapults, content from his mid-afternoon snack.
"Let's saddle up. We're off to Beezil's Wreck."
Stretching, Pasha finally made it to his feet and nodded at Rumer's new attire with approval. "At least they're not shorts."
"I'm never going to live that armor down, am I?"
A smile curled up over his teeth. "Nope."
The two rode across the newly-constructed bridge that connected Theramore to the mainland. Despite the murkiness that pervaded the marsh, flashes of red and white lit up the hills to their left and the sound of sizzling overpowered the chirping frogs.
"Why do I have a feeling that's where we're headed?" Pasha asked.
"Because it is."
Begrudgingly, he carried Rumer toward their destination.
She surveyed the area and noticed a flying contraption of Goblin craftsmanship had crashed into the swamp. Emanating from various pieces of the damaged power supply were lightning charges in the form of arcane energy that seemed to mutate swamp ooze into full-grown green slimes. For the time being, they seemed suspended in animation and trapped in the lightning.
She warned Pasha to stay back. "This doesn't look good."
Sizzling filled the air again as the Gnome who stood on top of the machine launched fireballs at the core processor.
"Elder Glittergold?" Rumer called from a safe distance.
The Gnome looked up at her from beneath bushy, white eyebrows and returned his attention to the machine.
A slime broke free just then from its prison and made haste toward the preoccupied mage.
"Excuse me," she said, "but there seems to be a problem."
Glittergold just grumbled under his breath and ignored her.
Seeing it was necessary, Rumer lunged at the slime, thrusting both daggers into it again and again until it dissipated into a messy green puddle at her feet. She watched as more started to break free and head their way.
"Mage!"
Glittergold turned and saw the approaching slimes. His eyes opened to twice their size before he turned back.
Rumer poised herself between the onslaught and the Gnome, ready to attack. Calling over her shoulder, she asked, "What's going on?"
"There seems to be a slight malfunction with the multiacidic ossification control."
"What does that mean?"
"It means, obviously, that the humiditinker is destabilizing the alterfier oxidizer."
She rolled her eyes and launched a few throwing stars at the closest mutant slime, stunning it only mere seconds before it started oozing toward them again. "Well, stop it!"
"Just hold them off," the mage said, "while I give this transmogrification valve a whirl."
His little gloved hands worked quickly but to no avail.
"They're still coming," Rumer said as she battled against two of the closest slimes.
"Maybe it's the other direction." He spoke more to himself than to her and started turning the valve back the other way.
"Now they're coming faster."
"Oh, my!"
Upon hearing loud metallic clanking, Rumer looked back and saw the mage hitting the mechanism with the end of his wooden staff and the glowing orb at the top crackling with lightning.
"Can't you fix it?" she asked.
"I've been trying to for the past three days."
"Three days?" Rumer stared in disbelief at the mage.
Pasha roared from his safe spot just beyond the conductors. "Look out!"
Rumer whipped back to face another slime and attacked it with vengeance.
When it was destroyed, she turned to the mage. "I thought you were an engineer."
"Heavens, no. I'm a tailor."
Both she and Pasha groaned. She should have known judging from his long velvet robes embroidered with runes in gold-spun thread and bedazzled with sparkling gemstones.
Exasperated, Rumer released her fan of knives in a spray of crippling poison.
"Heads up!"
She plucked the little mage from the flying contraption and hurled him through the air toward Pasha who caught him by the cloak. He dangled from the great saber's teeth, shouting protestations in multisyllabic words and flailing his stubby arms and legs about like a bug that'd just landed on its back.
"Run, Pasha," she said then turned her attention back to the slimes.
Flaying and filleting, she popped the closest slimes and made a break for it. With fetid, green blobs oozing after her, she broke into a sprint and vanished into the shadows of the murky swamp.
When the slimes had lost sight and interest of her, she let forth a sharp whistle. Pasha appeared with the mage still in his mouth and dumped him on the ground at Rumer's feet.
The Gnome straightened his robes and flicked saliva from his long, wavy beard. "Now, what can I do for you?" he asked.
Rumer clucked her tongue at his lack of gratitude for saving his life. "A bit pretentious naming yourself after a deity, don't you think?"
"I'll say," Pasha said under his breath.
"No more pretentious than assuming that just because I am a Gnome, I should also be an engineer." A satisfied look of smugness settled across his face.
"You're right," she said, "I don't know how I could have made that mistake."
She mounted Pasha and began to ride away.
"Wait! Wait! You're not going to leave me here, are you?" They heard Glittergold call out. "The slimes will kill me!"
Rumer smiled to herself, halted Pasha, and turned to wait for him, enjoying the sight of his little legs trotting up to them. She reached down and grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and set him on the saddle behind her.
Pasha reared.
"Whoa!" Glittergold clung to Rumer's waist.
"Enough playing, Pasha," she said, laughing and patting his head.
The great cat obeyed and placed all four paws on the ground.
They headed back to Theramore.
Babs Fizzletourque stood at the edge of the lighthouse island, waving excitedly as Rumer steered the boat to shore. At once, Glittergold climbed over her and Pasha and disembarked.
Babs smothered him with kisses and fussed about how long he'd been gone and what danger he must have been in.
"Yes, yes," he answered her. "I had it all under control."
Rumer and Pasha just eyed each other and hid smiles.
"You will stay for dinner. All of you," Babs said and began setting up a feast for a very small king.
Halfway through the meal, with Pasha napping by the bonfire, and the others circled around it, Rumer began her inquiry. "I was told you know my sister, Whisperra Nightblade?"
The mage stopped chewing, and his eyes looked thoughtful, reflecting the flames. He seemed to retreat into his thoughts, and they looked dark.
When he finally spoke, his voice was void of the arrogance from earlier in the day. "She was after Chok'sul's head, and I happened to be in his cave at the time. She saved my life."
"My dear Glitter, you mean to say you were trapped by that nasty ogre?" Babs gasped, and her hands flew up to her mouth to suppress the horror.
If Rumer had not seen it herself, she wouldn't have believed the tender moment that passed between the two tiny Gnomes as Glittergold took one of Babs' hands and held it while he spoke.
"The Mo'grosh ogres had terrorized the town of Thelsamar, the Stonewrought Dam, and the excavation site in Loch Modan under orders from Chok'sul. The Dwarven Magistrate wanted it stopped, and he put out a reward. I assume your sister was after that reward."
"And what were you after?"
Glittergold looked at Babs as if he wanted to spare her from hearing this part but didn't have a choice. "His ring. It possessed great intellectual power from which all of his shamans channeled their magic. Without it, I figured he and his minions would become so impotent, I could kill Chok'sul myself and endear myself to the Magistrate."
"So you didn't want the power of the ring for yourself?" Rumer asked.
"Well, that too."
"What does this have to do with meeting Whisperra in Ratchet?"
He returned to his thoughts, cleared his throat, and began the story.
The first few ogres at the mouth of the cave had been easy enough to kill. A few fireballs and they had become toast. Being so small, he had been able to hide behind stalagmites that erupted from the stone floor and had slipped past many of the lumbering oafs. But as Glittergold headed deeper into Chok'sul's lair, the ogre numbers also increased.
It hadn't been until he was in sight of the ogre leader himself that Glittergold had lost his concentration. The Minor Channeling Ring had sparkled on the ogre's finger, and he'd become mesmerized, envisioning the power he'd have once in possession of it. He had giggled out loud in anticipation and drawn attention to himself.
At once, the loin-clothed ogres converged on him. He tried to fire off a round of scorching heat waves, but it was no use; there were too many, and Glittergold didn't have the advantage of time or distance for his spells to gather power.
Chok'sul bellowed just then, his voice echoing against the walls of the cavern, and the ogre bodyguards stopped. Instead of trying to kill him, one of them grabbed the mage and threw him into a wooden cage in an alcove.
This was worse than Glittergold had expected. He he'd lost his line of sight on Chok'sul, and he was out of range for any of his spells to work anyway. He had only to wonder what the ogres wanted with him.
Gathering up his robes, the Gnome plopped down on the cold, damp, rocky floor to contemplate his misery. His only comfort was that Magistrate Bluntnose had posted a reward for the ogre's head, and someone stupid enough, probably a warrior, would eventually try his hand at killing Chok'sul.
It seemed like days or even weeks that he'd waited in the confines of his crude prison while foolhardy men one after the other fell victim to the ogre leader. Glittergold spent much of his time asleep until he had either heard the commotion of another failed attack or his snoring had irritated the ogres so much that they poked him awake with the ends of their wooden maces.
In one such state of alertness, he noticed a change. Instead of hearing the ogres' constant leaden footfalls as they patrolled the cave, he heard nothing. The air, usually rank and stifled, had a slight breeze to it. The fine hair of his snowy beard danced along the current.
Something happened. Something had become different. And then a patrolling bodyguard suddenly collapsed in front of the alcove, and dark brown liquid pooled around its head.
Glittergold didn't see its killer but smelled it instead. It had been the scent of stealth, or rather the lack of any scent. He'd grown accustomed to the lack of scent that precipitated a stealth attack. His own brother had studied the way of the Assassin and had used the mage to practice his skills. To most living creatures, the lack of scent had often been overlooked as a sign of danger.
But Glittergold was not most living creatures. He was brilliant.
"What does this have to do with my sister?" Rumer interrupted.
"I'm getting to that," the mage said and cleared his throat before resuming.
So he was only surprised when the stealthy assassin who had stepped out of the shadows by his cage was female.
"A little help, please," he said with as much pleasantry as he could muster and jiggled the lock holding the door closed.
"Hush," the Night Elf said and sapped a passing ogre into unconsciousness.
Next, she dragged the body of the dead ogre deeper into the alcove and waited for the stun effect of the other to wear off.
Luring her target back into the shadows, she stepped behind it in one swift movement and slit its throat clean down to the bone. The ogre slumped to the ground in a sickening thud. Glittergold, not used to the brutality of steel, swallowed down a lump of nausea and looked away.
Without a word, the female assassin picked the lock of the Gnome's cage and let him out.
"Cover me" she said and stepped through the shadows behind Chok'sul before he could answer.
Glittergold felt the air ripple through his beard again and, it had been in that instant, that the assassin began her attack. It was as if she'd choreographed it to a haunting ballad, but he didn't have the time to watch her performance. Pelting Chok'sul's bodyguards with fiery bombs, Glittergold's spell had slowed their movements considerably as their skin became so scorched they could no longer fight and instead crumpled to the ground in a pile of ash.
With the other ogres dead, it was time to concentrate on Chok'sul. The female assassin twirled around the ogre leader, rupturing veins and slicing muscles as Glittergold began to summon immense fiery boulders from between his palms. He hurled them in succession, taking care not to wound his ally.
In the final act, the Night Elf thrust both daggers upward into Chok'sul's chest and pierced his heart. Before gravity took out the ogre, she sheared his head from his neck and caught it in one hand.
"Do you wish to fight me for it?" she asked the mage.
Swallowing that lump again, Glittergold managed to say, "I just want the ring."
She looked down at the gleaming beacon on Chok'sul's finger and cut it off then tossed the golden band to him. "That's it then."
With his voice choking, he said, "You saved my life."
"No." She smiled at him then. "I just prolonged it."
"If you ever need the favor returned, just ask," Glittergold said and slipped the ring around his waist like a belt.
The assassin nodded and began walking toward the cave's exit.
"The name's Glittergold. Elder Glittergold, the mage. In case you need me."
"Whisperra," was all she'd said. Then she bowed with a flourish and vanished.
Babs Fizzletourque was visibly shaken with fat tears streaming down her cheeks.
Rumer was beside herself as well with a deep aching to find her sister now more than ever. She was so close, and at last she had found someone who might be able to help her.
"And you repaid that favor in Ratchet," she said. "What did she want?"
Glittergold sighed. "Not anything nearly as spectacular as that ring, which by the way, I traded in for a better one. She wanted information. To know who had spoken against your father to the King of Stormwind."
Inhaling sharply, Rumer steeled herself. "Who was it?"
"Well, I don't know. And that's what I told her. But there's a book in the Library of the Hall of the Explorers in Ironforge that will tell you. That's where she was headed."
"Take me."
