Author's note: So yesh. Guess what happens when ya move twice in less than a month, and start a new job? You don't have much time to be making the writing. : P Anyway, thats my excuse this time. I hope you guys like this chapter, though I HIGHLY recommend that you go back and re-read chapter 1. I made a slight change that will help the end of this chapter make sense. The change is very minute, but its only a few paragraphs in, so you don't have to re-read it all. Anyway, you guys read, hope you enjoy. As always, please feel free to leave feedback.
Vaguely, she was aware of the sun shining on her face, and she couldn't help but screw up her eyes in a vain attempt to keep it out. But her best efforts, the sun kept on shining, making the inside of her eyelids look like a curtain of red. So she rolled over. But that did her no good, since the light shone through her third story bedroom window, bounced off of a mirror on the opposite wall, and reflected the light into her eyes with more intensity than before. Sighing in exasperation, she rolled onto her stomach. At least this way, the light wasn't reflecting into her eyes. With a contented sigh, she relaxed.
But then she heard it. Something that would not allow her to sleep.
Loud chatter, laughter, and the occasional sound of a plate or cup.
She groaned as she realized that she wouldn't be able to sleep through that, and as resignation set in, she yawned and arched her back up, stretching in a distinctly feline manner. Blinking, realization slowly hit her, and she was startled to find that she had woken up in a different spot than she'd fallen asleep in. Casting her memory back, she remembered sitting in...in the what? She thought. In the woods. With Ray. It was his family grave site. There they'd sat and talked for what must have been hours. He'd told her all manner of things about himself, and she'd shared several details of her life as well. The last thing she'd remembered was watching the sun come up, his arm around her keeping her warm, and her head against his chest, thinking how soft and fuzzy it felt.
She must have dozed off, and she couldn't help but feel embarrassed about it. Shrugging, she stood up, and swayed a bit as the blood rushed from her head. Slowly she made her way to the stairs. As she passed Rayford's room, she was shocked to find the door open, and the room empty. Surely the Tauren had not stayed up all night. But from the looks of things, he had, even after carrying her the whole way back to his home, up two flights of stairs, and into the room she had been given.
She smiled slightly in respect, and turned to face the stairs, when she was confronted by a large, dark face, its two large, green eyes boring into her own. Gasping in shock, she took two quick steps backwards before realizing who she was looking at.
Bogarden, on the other hand, simply smiled courteously.
"Mornin sleepy," he said. "Hope ya rested well. We've got breakfast downstairs if you're hungry."
It took Illaria another moment to calm her racing heart, but she nodded her acceptance and followed Bogarden down to the dining room, which sat in the opposite corner of the house than the sitting room she'd seen from the day before.
At the table sat most of the people that she had met last night, as well as several new faces. And at one end of the table sat Rayford, with an empty chair on either side of him. Bogarden went to the other table in the room and helped himself to the rather large assortment of food that had been laid out sometime during the morning.
Illaria walked over as well, and was quite astonished at the amount of food there was to choose from. Eggs, toast, several assortments of meats, some sort of oatmeal that looked as if it had been baked, amongst other things. Selecting several different and exquisite looking items, she sat at the only remaining chair, on Rayford's left. Selecting one of the meats that she had chosen, she took a small bite, and was shocked when she recognized the flavor. Surprised, she looked from her plate, to Rayford, back to her plate, and back to the Tauren, who, by this time, was grinning mischievously.
"Like it?" His grin grew wider.
"It...Is it what I think it is?"
"Nightsaber meat, yes. I had it imported for you. Couldn't have my favorite Night Elf feeling homesick, now could I?" His smile changed from cunning to reassuring, and Illaria couldn't help but return the smile. Silently mouthing a thank you, she turned back to her breakfast and dove in.
After breakfast, he stood and raised his hand, silencing the table and gaining everyone's attention instantly.
"I received word this morning from Warchief Thrall. We are to depart for Karazhan immediately. Gather your gear everyone. We leave first thing tomorrow morning." He sat back down, and was assaulted almost immediately with questions. Who were they being sent after? Who would be going inside? Who was backup? What consumables would they need?
With a snort, he looked up from his plate, and ran his narrowed eyes across everyone at the table, silencing the room instantly. After several seconds of awkward silence, Xandir stood up. Taking a moment to straighten his tabard, he looked at all present.
"Right then. I believe that Alyndia and I will prepare ourselves and pack. We have quite a few things to put away, you know. My dearest?" With that, he offered a hand to the Warlock, who took the hand and stood. Together, the pair left.
Seconds later, a rush of apologies, excuses, and pardon me's emanated from every corner of the table, as all present excused themselves to pack. When all was said and done, only Ria, Bog, and Ray remained.
Snorting, he shook his head in exasperation and turned to look at Bog, who had suddenly stood up.
"Where are you going, Bog? Do you need to pack?" The Shaman asked, his voice laced with confusion.
Bog chuckled as he responded. "Of course not, bro. You know that I never unpack when we get here. We never stay long enough to make it worth it. I was getting up because the other two have arrived." As he finished, the Hunter headed off towards the front door.
"Excellent," he responded, standing. Turning, he offered his hand to Illaria. "You'll want to come with us. Part of this will pertain to you, Ria." The Night Elf looked up at him in confusion as she took his hand and stood, and he couldn't help but melting a little bit as he gazed into her soft blue eyes. But then his vision appeared before him, and he was reminded of why she had been brought into his life. Slapping himself mentally, he guided her to the front door, where he saw Bog and the other two guests talking.
The first figure he saw was a Tauren. Short for a female, she stood roughly eight feet tall. Boasting a narrow frame, she was covered in milky white fur that gradually darkened the further down her body it traveled. Two small horns emerged from her head, the left one easily two inches shorter than the right. Her dark leather armor, though, was a stark contrast to her fur, providing an intricate pattern of red, blue, and chocolate brown.
The second arrival had her back turned to the them, and spun to face them when Ray and Ria walked around the corner. Immediately, she focused her yellow eyes on Illaria and widened them in shock. Her white cloth armor was spotless and shimmered slightly in the sunlight. Underneath her armor, Ray could see her pale skin sagging off of her skin, but her eyes displayed an intellect that had not been dulled by undeath.
"Hello Miyari, Monasti. Glad to see you arrive so quickly." He bowed to the two guests, then turned slightly to gesture to Ria. "This is Illaria. She's under my protection. Illaria, this is Monasti," he waved a hand at the Forsaken. "And Miyari," he gestured at the Tauren. "Miyari, first off. I need you to craft some armor for Illaria. When we made our escape from Booty Bay, she had to leave hers behind, and has been wearing some extra clothes that I've had lying around. I'll pay for any materials. She just needs armor, and quickly."
Miyari bowed. Turning to Ria, Miyari intertwined her arm with the Night Elves and began to lead her away, asking questions that would prove useful in the making of her armor.
He watched them go, hoping that the decisions he was making were the right ones. The ones he had to make. But worry as he might, there was nothing he could do except trust in the elements. Shaking his head, he turned to face the Forsaken that was standing between he and Bog. Inclining her head to look him in the face, he couldn't help but almost chuckle at how short the Forsaken was. But out of respect, he fought off the urge. Instead, he opted to smile down at her. "Monasti," he began. "Thank you for coming. The Keepers will need your help in Karazhan."
The group left before dawn the next morning, setting a brisk pace across the plains of Mulgore. Illaria, astride Fiercetusk, did her best to keep the bulky kodo in the middle of the pack, as Ray, atop a large wolf, rode beside her, assisting her when he deemed it necessary.
The rest of the group surrounded her and Ray, providing cover in the event that they fell under attack. To her left were Viri, Veldara, and Teris. Ahead of her rode Bogarden and Taurgard. Behind her were Sukar, Al'lara, and Selia. And to her right, beyond Ray, were Alyndia and Xandir. While everyone else chatted happily, one member kept quiet, afraid of what they would say if they opened their mouth.
Seated on her raptor, she stared, furious. Ray was her man, and nobody else's. She had been there for Ray after the incident with his wife. He had come to her, and she had rebuilt him. And after a year and a half together, how had he thanked her? By leaving her. And now here he was flirting with this Night Elf whore as if what they had had didn't matter. It was as if all she had done for him had never happened, and she didn't exist.
Oh yes, she seethed. She was furious, and upset, and downright pissed off. Mentally she contemplated ways to deal with the Night Elf. She imagined getting her alone, and sinking her trusty dagger right into Illaria's back. And then, as the Elf looked up at her with the life fading out of her blue eyes, she would smile back, content in the knowledge that her man would again only have eyes for her.
Or perhaps she would shoot her with an arrow. Mentally, she saw herself with the arrow on the string. She saw herself taking aim at the Night Elf's neck or chest, and smiling as she released the arrow. In her minds eye, she saw the arrow sail true to its target, burying deep into Illaria. And as Illaria lay there, her life blood flowing freely out of her body, she would slink up and grab the arrow and twist it and turn it, hurting her as much as she could in her final moments.
Her mood lifted, Ya'Viri smiled and sat back, making additional plans and entertaining more thoughts of killing Illaria.