The Grand Scheme Revealed

Dorath's eyes slowly fluttered open. He was still sitting in his chair, the bowl of stew before him on the table. He well remembered the rebellious nature of his predecessor's kitchen maid. It was practically routine. The woman was used not just by the warden of the tower, but several of his men as well. Bound by her contract, she had little recourse for peace, since escape was out of the question. Sooner or later, he knew, Joanne would follow in her mother's footsteps and knock them all on their asses. Just a matter of time.

It was fortunate neither Joanne nor her late mother had the capacity for murder, even for revenge's sake.

Raising his head from where it fell upon the tabletop, he blinked and looked around. Derek had been taking a meal with him, and was just beginning to stir. Reaching over, he nudged the man's shoulder.

"Oy, Derek," Dorath growled. "Wake your ass up."

The man snorted a protest and groaned. "Ass ain't open for business, sir. Go fuck Amarn."

Right, Dorath thought, and get my cock burned off.

"The bitch poisoned us, idiot," Dorath snapped. "This isn't a social call. Get up and check on the prisoner."

Derek slowly rose, shaking his head to clear it. He had to lean on the table for several moments to calm the spinning in his head and the lurching of his stomach. Taking a deep breath, he staggered out of the room. Dorath went through the same process as he headed out in search of Joanne.

A few minutes later, the absence of Fentulk and Joanne was discovered and those that weren't throwing up in buckets were spurred to action. Dorath collared Amarn and ordered a portal to be opened to Stormwind; this was too important a matter to be trusted to the usual methods of communication.

"Derek, take two of the boys with you and catch up to them," Dorath ordered before reporting to their boss. "Don't engage them; just follow and observe for now. Amarn will join you after I report to Shaw."

"She still got that spell on her?" Derek asked as he thrust his hands into black leather gloves.

"Yes, indeed," Dorath nodded. "Since birth. You shouldn't have any trouble locating her. Now get moving. We could have been out for hours or days."

"Feels more like hours, sir," Amarn pointed out, rubbing his growling belly. He smirked. "Just like the old days, isn't it?"

"Right," Dorath snapped sarcastically. "At least she didn't use her mother's favorite herb."

Derek winced. "Gods, yes. We wouldn't be able to chase'em if she had. Spend all our time shittin' as well as pukin'. What the fuck was that?"

"Khadgar's Whiskers," Dorath supplied. "Warden Tully had the boys at the lab look into it back in the day. Normally doesn't have that effect, but the way she prepared it, evidently it does." Shaking his head, he said, "Gotta admire that kind of ingenuity, even if it keeps you on the crapper for two days."

Turning to Amarn, he motioned for the mage to summon a portal.

"Wouldn't wanna be in your shoes," Derek muttered as he left to gather his men. Dorath just shrugged.

The shimmering oval took them to the Mage's Quarter of Stormwind, and the two men hastened from there to the headquarters in Old Town. It was evening when they arrived, and the streets were choked with revelers. Dorath and Amarn paid them little attention beyond what was required to force their way through. The tower warden almost wished Amarn's legendary impatience would result in an explosion of arcane energy in the streets. That would clear a path. And likely get the Stormwind guards, also legendary for their lack of humor, completely bent out of shape.

Once beyond the Trade District, their path opened up, the throngs dwindling to nothing by the time they reached Old Town. They found Mathias Shaw in his office poring over reports.

"Sir, have you a moment?" Dorath asked at the door.

Shaw looked up from his work and started. "Dorath? What are you doing here? I thought you were busy with that Orc..."

"I was, sir," Dorath replied, entering the room with Amarn on his heels. "The brown son of a bitch escaped this morning."

"I see," the SI:7 leader said, nodding. "And?"

"Accompanied by one of the 'help,' sir."

"Attuned?"

Dorath nodded.

"And you sent men after them?"

"Of course, sir. My best." Handing over a sheaf of notes, he added, "This is what we have extracted so far, sir. It isn't much."

"Good, good," Shaw said thoughtfully, accepting the report and beginning to flip through the pages. "I will inform the king at once. Will you stay, or are you heading back?"

"I'd like Amarn to accompany them, so we'll be going back. I felt I should report this in person." Grimacing, he added, "I'd rather not be in the city when the king hears about it."

"Wise," Shaw replied. "Very well, then. Proceed as planned, and keep me informed. Dismissed."

Snapping a salute, Dorath turned and left. Amarn gave Shaw a firm nod and followed.

Mathias Shaw mentally prepared himself. Varian Wrynn wasn't going to be happy about this. Calling for his secretary, Shaw ordered a message sent to the keep requesting an immediate audience, then read through the team's findings as he awaited a response.

Within twenty minutes, he was hurrying through the darkening streets to Stormwind Keep.

Varian Wrynn was unabashed about displaying his displeasure these days. He knew any discussion with Shaw was going to give him a headache, and began nursing one in anticipation of the man's news.

"This had better be good," he snarled, leaning back in his chair. They were in his office in the keep, and Wrynn had reluctantly left the dinner table to attend to his spy master in private.

Squaring his shoulders and fixing his gaze just above the king's head, Shaw announced, "I have an update on the Orc problem, sir. My man left a half hour ago."

The king leaned forward slightly, a hopeful look on his face. "You've discovered something? Hellscream's behind it?"

"We don't know that for certain, not yet," Shaw replied slowly. "In truth, the beast has escaped."

Wrynn's heart stopped beating for a moment. He certainly couldn't breathe. Struggling against the urge to fly across the table and strangle the calm spy master, Wrynn blinked rapidly. "Escaped," he repeated. "Escaped."

Before the king could wind himself up, Shaw interrupted firmly, "It was planned, sir. Carefully arranged."

Startled, Wrynn could only stare, speechless. Taking a deep breath, Shaw began his report blissfully uninterrupted.

"The Orc was 'coaxed' into revealing his association with the Burning Blade, but my men wisely didn't trust such an absurd tale," Shaw said. For the king's benefit, for he looked a little confused, the spy master added, "The group is almost entirely peopled by warlocks, sir. A warrior in their ranks for occasional muscle, though a stretch, might have been plausible. This Orc is merely a hunter."

"Right," Wrynn replied automatically. "Continue."

"It was observed," Shaw continued carefully, sometimes glancing at the report for assurance, "that this Orc developed an interest in the maid who brought him meals. My man authorized certain... actions involving the woman to urge the Orc's cooperation."

Wrynn's head shot up with alarm. "What... 'actions'?"

"Nothing of harm to her," Shaw hastily reassured him. "They kept the Orc blindfolded and used illusion and trickery to convey the idea that they were... well, to put it as delicately as possible, assaulting her in the cell. His strong reactions revealed where his breaking point could be found." Smirking triumphantly, he said, "They could do whatever they wished to him, but harm to her he couldn't stand."

"Now I'm confused," Wrynn said slowly, and Shaw wondered why he was only just realizing it. "Why would he give a shit what they were doing to the woman? Unless he was disappointed he couldn't watch."

"He gave them an asinine story of searching for a mate," Shaw said dismissively. "A human mate. Ludicrous, of course, but perhaps with a thread of truth. He obviously had some kind of attraction to her. Probably jealous of missing out, you're right."

"And now he has escaped," Wrynn growled. "Did this... maid have anything to do with it?"

"Indeed, sire," Shaw said, inclining his head in a slight bow. "My men purposely kept her in the room, not only to maintain the illusion, but also to bear witness to their interrogation. As we hoped, she grew to pity the poor, mistreated Orc, and aided his escape. She now accompanies him."

"Hmph," Wrynn snorted. "Likely learning the error of her judgment in many humiliating ways as we speak." Eying the leader of SI:7 shrewdly, the king said, "Are you sure this whole... thing was intended? It doesn't sound like a master plan so much as a collosal fuck up to me."

"It is true, the plan grew as more observations were made, and more information was gathered," Shaw replied stiffly. While Dorath's methods were often questionable, his instincts were not. "The escape is part of the plan. We wanted him to escape. Only then could we hope to learn his true purpose, those he reports to, etcetera. We hoped Joanne – the maid – would accompany him, for she was attuned at birth. There is no place she can go that we won't find her, even if he takes her into the heart of Horde territory."

"Does she know about this?"

Shaw shook his head. "The servants in that tower are not told of it, no. It's a security measure. Insurance, if you will."

Wrynn slowly nodded, absorbing the information. One thing kept invading his thoughts, and he couldn't help but ask. "Do you think... do you think they're sleeping together?"

Frowning, Shaw shrugged indifferently. "I don't care what the hell they're doing. My only concern is that a member of the Alliance has just turned traitor. She freed a political prisoner and helped him escape. She is now on the run with him. I believe that's more important than whether she's fucking him or not."

Shaking himself, Wrynn nodded quickly. "Yeah, yeah, you're right."

"My men are following them, keeping a discreet distance," Shaw concluded. "We'll know where he goes, who he speaks with, what he does – likely with nauseating details, if I know Derek – in short, every move he makes. He won't be able to take a dump without one of my men close enough to see what he had for dinner."

Wrynn's face contorted with disgust. "Thanks for the visual. So tell me; any word about that whore who started this whole business?"

"Yes," Shaw nodded. He flipped pages of the report. "Her name is Karie, but that's about all they could get out of the Orc. Oh, and apparently she prefers being fucked from behind." Shrugging, he added, "Not surprising when she consorts with beasts, eh?"

"Please tell me that's not all you've learned," Wrynn sighed, worrying a pain forming in earnest between his eyes.

"No, it isn't," Shaw replied, juggling the reports in his hands. Grunting with impatience, he laid the Hinterlands report on the king's desk and flipped through the pages of his Durotar agent's report received only that morning. "She was sighted leaving the Echo Isles a few days ago, arriving in Sen'jin Village. From there, she accompanied a Troll to Razor Hill, stayed overnight, then went on to Orgrimmar. She must have been covering her tracks, for her partner, the Troll, sent a coded message to the Warchief requesting an audience. My agents inform me that the message was about hunting down a particular Troll by the name of Roznik. Probably her contact. She remained in Orgrimmar for two days, then left in the company of a different Troll, likely this Roznik. They returned to Sen'jin then went on to the Isles."

Looking up from the scrawled notes of his gnomish agents, he met the fierce glare of his king and paused.

"You mean to tell me," Wrynn said slowly, "with all the resources at my command, I don't have a spy inside Orgrimmar?"

Shaw frowned in bafflement. "Sire, we've never had a spy inside Orgrimmar. We can't get inside Orgrimmar. We can't get into the Echo Isles either, and that's the least fortified stronghold in all of Horde territory. For crying out loud, you only need to swim to it and hide in the bushes. But we still can't get in there."

"Why not?" the king exploded in fury. "Why the fuck not? Put someone in Orgrimmar, put someone in the Echo Isles. I want to get to the bottom of this, and I won't accept stupid excuses."

"Sire, the 'stupid excuse' we have is that our agents can't get in. We don't have any counter agents, no one of a Horde race is willing to work for us..."

"What about those Steamwheedle Cartel goblins?" Wrynn countered. "They'll murder their own mothers for a few coins. Or any Troll anywhere in the Light-cursed jungles of Stranglethorn, for that matter. They certainly have no love for the Horde."

"Even less love for the Alliance," Shaw pointed out. "They are jungle Trolls, sire. The Darkspear are forest Trolls. We may not notice the differences, but the Horde would know immediately. As for the goblins, they may be opportunistic, but they aren't stupid. I don't think we could put up the coin necessary for the risk they'd be taking."

Deflating petulantly, Wrynn grumbled under his breath, "Wish I could get a hold of this Karie person. Maybe we could cut a deal with her. She's already ingratiated herself with the Warchief. Probably fucking him too." Narrowing his eyes in thought, he said, "What about the Burning Blade? They've given Thrall a load of trouble in the past; I can't imagine they'd be less a pain in Hellscream's ass. What about cutting a deal with them?"

"Warlocks are notoriously more opportunistic than goblins," Shaw said disdainfully. "Perhaps not for coin, but for... other things." He shuddered in spite of himself. "They can't be trusted any more than the cartel."

Desperately, Wrynn suggested, "Twilight's Hammer?" Shaw gave him a withering look. "Just a thought," the king muttered, chagrined. Rallying himself, he said, "We're not done, Shaw. I want agents in Orgrimmar. We should have had them before now. I trust you will bend your will in that direction."

"As you command, sire," Shaw said, bowing. He didn't point out that his will was 'bent' in so many directions by his volatile and capricious king, he could barely keep his head above water. Informing Wrynn of this, however, was a career limiting move, and Shaw was smart enough to know when to protest and when to obey.

References to Diary of a Mad Gamer Chick:

Why Karie prefers the rear-entry approach - noted in chapter 7
Trip to Sen'jin - field trip covered in chapter 27
Overnight stay in Razor Hill - chasing Mr. Pouty in chapter 28
Orgimmar adventures and various family traumas expounded in chapters 29 through 35
Returned to Sen'jin and the Echo Isles in chapter 36