Closer
"The King has fallen." The words felt strangely dead on his tongue. Dorissa's eyes were inscrutable as she studied his face and put aside the book she had been reading. "What do you feel, Zaladin?" "I... Believe I am experiencing an unfamiliar sense of spaciousness inside my skull." The half-elf smiled crookedly. "You really have a way with words, my love." Her face changed when she saw the look of utter perplex confusion on his face, and she got up from her chair and carefully helped him rid himself of his heavy armour and sword. "Did you deal the final blow?" she asked as he was wrapping the different pieces up in soft cloth to lock them away in the chest designed for the purpose. Zaladin finished and stared into the wall. "No." "Is that what bothers you?" "No…" The death knight's brow furrowed, and he began pacing back and forth, absently tapping his fingers against his right tusk. "What bothers me is that I had no knowledge of how much of him was in fact inhabiting my mind. I feel strangely liberated, yet I do not know what I am to do with that liberty. And I have yet to become accustomed to the term 'not knowing'." Zaladin stopped and looked at Dorissa. The expression on the half-elf's face was not one he was familiar with. "Of what are you thinking?" he asked. "I am thinking," she started, and in a fluid movement she crossed the room to stand before him, "that you said there was more space inside your head, is that correct?" "I believe it is." "Then perhaps there is more room for you to be, well, you." Dorissa's lips formed the beginnings of a smile. "Yes…" Zaladin studied her face. "How is it," he said and raised a hand to let it slide slowly down Dorissa's chest and stomach, "that you are always capable of putting my state of mind into words when I fail myself?" He could feel her quiver lightly beneath the fabric of her robe, but her face showed no signs of being affected by his touch. The death knight let out a deep, puzzled laugh, and with the speed of a viper he closed the distance between them and pressed his lips against her soft neck, his large hands traveling greedily down her figure, fingers playing across very intimate parts of Dorissa's body. She let out a gasp of surprise followed by a pleased, trembling sigh. " "Zaladin, wh- oh!" He effectively silenced her when his nimble fingers danced along her hot, wet opening, and with utmost amusement he ran his index finger into her, resulting in the most agonizingly delicious sound from her open mouth. She was his instrument, and he intended to play her until she had no more notes left in her. "Why you would ever question my intentions I shall never know," the troll said with a low chuckle, twisting and vibrating his fingers to not leave any part of her red-hot core neglected. "I- Mhmm, I… D-don't," she managed, undulating her shaking hips in response to his experienced movements inside her. She somehow found the strength to grasp his neck and pull him down to let her full lips crash passionately against his, teeth closing around his lower lip with exciting roughness…
"I suppose there is no use in denying it any longer: I study your state of mind more than you do," she said with a joking smile. Her lips looked incredibly inviting.
"Hellooo?" The huntress' blowtorch voice efficiently cut through his fantasies, forcing him back to the remarkably disappointing reality.
"What do you want?"
"It's been three days. How can you not even have asked for my name yet?" the blood elf asked irritably, reluctantly steadying herself with an arm around the death knight's armoured waist.
"Because I have not yet found it in me to care for that knowledge," Zaladin said, studying the map he had spread out in front of him. "But do enlighten me as to what you call yourself," he added indifferently.
The elf huffed, seemingly very offended. "Rahsi . What's your first name?"
"Zaladin."
"Hm, that doesn't sound nearly as intimidating as I'd thought it would. Should've been something starting with 'Zul', don't you think?"
Zaladin closed his eyes, silently counting to ten. "The prefix 'Zul' shows that one masters hexes and voodoo. There are no indications that I have ever had anything to do with either of those two."
"Whatever," Rahsi said, tossing her shoulder-long hair away from her face.
The Great Sea stretched below them as the frostwyrm steadily closed in on their destination. Here and there they could still spot little bits of floating wreckage, confirming that they were near the site they were looking for, but the wind and waves had carried most evidence of the happenings far away from where it must have taken place.
"Stop," Rahsi said quietly. Zaladin glanced back at her and gave the reins a tug to halt the reanimated wyrm mid-air. "There," she said, pointing towards the surface of the water, and Zaladin's eyes followed her thin finger.
Despite being a formidable pest, the huntress was very talented, and her eyes were not mistaken. The water was fairly clear, but the sun reflected on the surface blocked most of Zaladin's view to the bottom. But the dark shape Rahsi had spotted near the ocean floor was definitely an upside-down ship having met its watery grave.
The death knight did not hesitate. With extreme haste he removed his plate armour and dropped it all in Rahsi's unprepared arms. "Hey, this is freaking heavy!" she complained, but he ignored her.
Rearranging the position of his sword on his back, Zaladin stood up on the frostwyrm, easily balancing on the massive creature. "Wait here," he murmured.
"It's not like you give me a choice," the huntress sneered, but the death knight had leaped from the saddle, his body breaking the surface and shooting through the water a moment later.
It was like entering another world. A relieving sense of calm silence engulfed him as he agilely swam towards the shipwreck. He caught a glimpse of a seaweed-green naga tail taking off nearby, but he took no notice of it.
When he reached the soft ocean floor, he trod water and searched the site with his gaze. There was no apparent sign of life. But if his eyes were not mistaken, and they seldom were, that was indeed a very small flicker of light he saw inside the upside-down wreck.
He approached the hole in the side of the ship, and, carefully to avoid scratching his skin on the broken planks, he pulled himself through the opening and up to what would have been below deck but was now the upper part of the ship.
When he reached the top Zaladin's head broke through the water, and he found himself in a pocket of air inside the shipwreck. A startled noise had him turn his head quickly to the left where his eyes fell upon a Broken who was readying an offensive spell to strike him with.
Zaladin quickly raised his hands to show the creature he meant no harm. The other looked at him skeptically and lowered his hands, but he was still on his guard.
"What is your name?" Zaladin asked.
"Erunak. I am Erunak Stonespeaker," the Broken said stoically, his face still wary. A low groan told Zaladin that Erunak and he were not alone, and he glanced at the other side of the ship where two injured sailors lay on an interim bed of ripped cloth and seaweed.
"I am looking for someone," Zaladin said, hauling himself to a sitting position on what was once the ceiling. "Her name is Dorissa the Enslaver, a night elf druid with silvery hair and a black crescent on her forehead. She sailed from Stormwind not many days ago. Do you have any information regarding her whereabouts?"
"I do not," the Broken said, turning his attention to the healing gauze he was preparing for the injured sailors in the other end of the room.
"What's the troll saying?" one of the sailors mumbled in Common, a male human whose left leg had been severed just above the knee.
"He is looking for a night elf whom he believes was aboard one of these ships," Erunak replied, quickly summarising the description Zaladin had given.
"Tell him –" the sailor managed, but a sudden surge of pain shot through his injured leg, and he let out an agonised groan followed by a series of cramped coughs.
Zaladin stood up and approached the human, switching to Common: "Tell me what?"
The sailor looked up at him with feverish eyes. "You speak…" He took a deep breath, deciding it did not matter that the troll spoke his language. "There was a night elf on our vessel. Silvery hair, soft eyes. Claimed she was a druid, but she sure as hell didn't act like one."
Zaladin nodded. "Can you tell me what happened to her?"
"I'm not sure. It was all chaos, people being thrown off deck, the ship being torn apart by that monstrous thing. I know I saw her grow wings and fly off, but I have no idea if she got away. It was storming, too."
"Storming… From which direction did the wind come?" the death knight asked.
"How in the name of the Light would I ever notice that when the shi-"
"North, mostly north-west," Erunak said, interrupting the irritated human.
"I thank you both," Zaladin said, lowering his body back into the cool water.
"Death knight," Erunak called, and the troll turned his head in the Broken's direction. "There were almost no survivors. I would not get my hopes up if I were you."
"I have no choice," Zaladin responded.
"Aren't you gonna send for help?" the injured sailor shouted, but the death knight had already returned to the water and begun his journey to the surface.
"What took you so long?" Rahsi whined as he ascended the saddle once more. He deliberately tossed his soaked hair out of his face, sending a cascade of heavy drops at the squealing blood elf.
"She will have flown back towards Stormwind, most likely to report to her superiors about the happenings and collect help for the crews. But if it was storming…" Zaladin's eyes narrowed. "The wind came from the north-west…" he continued absently, his inner compass guiding him as he turned his head south-east.
He gave the reins a sharp pull, forcing the frostwyrm around and causing Rahsi to almost fall off under loud protesting. "Would it kill you to tell me anything?" she sneered, desperately hooking her bony fingers in his belt to stay in the saddle. She then carefully leaned over the side to comfort and coo at her terrified lion that had been strapped to the belly of the frostwyrm in a sturdy leather harness.
"No, I do not believe it would," Zaladin said indifferently as he pressed the frostwyrm to its speed limit.
"Then start doing so?"
The death knight sighed and then responded as patiently as he could manage: "I have been informed of the happenings on the Alliance vessel by a surviving sailor, and from what he described, the Enslaver flew for the Eastern Kingdoms, but the wind will have blown her off course, sending her south-east rather than east."
"Ah," the huntress said, showing no sign of concern for the survivors on the shipwreck. "What is this elf to you anyway?" she then asked, studying her manicured fingernails.
"That is not of your concern. And I do recall you saying you would solve that puzzle yourself," Zaladin said absently.
"Yeah, I'm already bored with that. You're not very interesting," Rahsi responded. "But perhaps you would be if you would tell me," she added nonchalantly.
"If that is the case, you have a dreadfully uninteresting trip ahead of you."
"Perhaps. Or I'll just keep myself entertained by asking questions until you tell me," the huntress reasoned, self-satisfaction apparent in her voice. "Is the elf your… lover?"
Zaladin cocked a brow. "No." Technicalities.
"Okay, then she… killed one of your family members?"
"I am dead, Rahsi."
"But it could be," the blood elf pointed out. "What about this: she's plotting against your plan to slay Garrosh Hellscream and take over Orgrimmar?"
"I presume your questions will be getting dumber and dumber until I succumb to my irritation and tell you what you wish to know."
"That's about right, yes."
"I wish you luck," the death knight said calmly, slowly wrapping his mind around the mouthwateringly satisfying idea of tearing the blood elf limb from limb, tossing her mangled carcass into the ocean and flying off into the horizon, and with a joyless smirk he licked his teeth and readied himself for hours and hours of excruciating torture.
The days went by slowly. Mandokir seemed to have lost interest in the priestess for the time being, and he had not shown his face the last three days. Belfrida was recovering, but the process was slow. Dorissa had tried to convince her to heal herself, but she refused to "waste what energy he had left her", as she put it, on patching herself up.
Zanzil had done nothing to her, either. He became more and more jittery with every passing hour; even if he did not say anything, Dorissa could read from his expression that it was expected of him to experiment on the priestess while Mandokir was absent, but he had not laid a finger on her once. He had even gone as far as disposing of the concoction Mandokir had initially asked him to use on Belfrida and was now brewing up a new, though equally foul-smelling substance in his kettle.
Dorissa's optimism was slowly returning. If the trolls left Belfrida to recover for just another day perhaps it was time for an attempt at escaping. The priestess was able to walk at an almost normal pace now, and Dorissa did not believe it would take long before she could run, too.
It felt strange simply sitting there in the cage waiting for something to happen that would be her cue for trying to free them both. The first days Dorissa had somehow managed to push aside thoughts of exactly how dire a situation she was in, but now the circumstances were slowly becoming clear to her, and it was finally occurring to her that no one in the world knew where she was. Perhaps no one even knew the ships had sunk. Her effects were gone, her wings practically clipped, and if she actually did somehow escape her cage she would have a weakened priestess with no battle skills whatsoever to look after; not a single thing was working in her favour.
And no matter how hard she tried, no matter how many things she should worry about, the only thought Dorissa was completely unable to rid herself of was that of never seeing Zaladin again. Had the ships not sunk she would have had the tough battle for claiming Vashj'ir to focus on, but as it were, her mind was free to stray in any direction it desired, the result usually a longing for the death knight so intense she had to stop herself from sobbing miserably out loud. She needed to be strong for both Belfrida and herself, and it would do her no good grieving over what she could not yet be certain was to be. No, she needed to maintain her focus on planning the escape.
"Oh no," Belfrida said quietly; the first words she had spoken that day. "And here I thought he might've forgotten about me."
Dorissa looked up, and the tiny spark of hope that had ignited inside her was abruptly put out by the sight of the Bloodlord's flamboyant appearance as he entered the grounds. Zanzil looked up and swallowed hard upon the sight of him, but he managed to keep a straight face as he met the other troll's eye.
"Has it manifested yet?" Mandokir asked quietly, glancing in the direction of the cages.
Zanzil shook his head and waved his herbal knife about in pretended frustration. "She be stubborn. She be lockin' up her wolf, never lettin' it out to feed. Zanzil be tryin' everythin'," he lied, for once sounding convincing.
The lean troll whimpered when Mandokir's right hand locked around his neck. Dorissa could see his nails boring into Zanzil's skin. "Ya haven't tried hard enough den." The Bloodlord's grip tightened for a few seconds, but he quickly released the frightened Zanzil who bravely spat curses at him and returned to his reeking concoctions. Mandokir simply turned around and stalked towards the cages.
Dorissa glanced at the priestess in the other cage. Her wolf?
When he reached the captives Mandokir opened Belfrida's cage, reached in and pulled her out by her upper arms.
"Let go of me, you hideous bastard!" the priestess snarled, finally showing some of the proud strength Dorissa had sensed used to reside in her being, but Mandokir ignored her completely.
The half-elf watched in pity as he dragged her towards Zanzil and threw her on the ground before the other troll's feet. "Make it quick," he sneered, crossing his arms and settling for an arrogant stance as he took in Belfrida's loathing face with a dark smirk.
Zanzil turned towards the two and squatted down before the woman. In his left hand he held a worn vial containing a bubbling green, mud-like substance. Belfrida immediately backed away from him, but she was stopped by Mandokir's large hands when he kneeled and grasped her around her waist, trapping her body firmly against his armoured knee. He moved his right hand to her forehead and forced it back, making the priestess unwillingly open her mouth. "Now."
Zanzil obeyed with a displeased scowl and poured the disgusting substance down the woman's throat. Belfrida tried spitting it out, but Mandokir quickly moved his hand to close her mouth, forcing her to swallow the thick liquid. When he was sure she had consumed it all he let go of her head, but he still held her locked on the ground. Dorissa studied Belfrida's face, looking for a sign of whatever it was the trolls were waiting for to happen.
The human sat completely still, her face frozen for minutes. Dorissa was beginning to worry she had choked on whatever it was they had made her drink. But suddenly her vibrant emerald eyes flashed red, and her entire body began writhing in spasms. Mandokir loosened his grip around her with a cruel grin. "Yes!" he proclaimed, staring hopefully at the woman. She arched her back convulsively and twisted in the direction of the cages, and Dorissa saw that her face was gradually changing, elongating into a feral snout, her canines growing and shaping into sharp fangs.
But whatever it was they were trying to bring forth, Belfrida was fighting it valiantly. The transformation did not proceed any further, for the priestess suddenly blinked and stared directly at Dorissa. The green returned to her eyes, her lips parted and she uttered a terrible growl: "NO!"
Her effort was immense and draining, but slowly her twisting features began to return to their exotic beauty, the throbbing veins in her temples the only evidence of the inner battle she was fighting. Within a few minutes she lay completely limp in Mandokir's arms, her face covered in sweat and her eyes closed from exhaustion.
The Bloodlord let out a furious growl and tossed the human aside. In a raptor-like leap he had reached Zanzil, grasped the sinewy troll by his neck and slammed him down on the reagent table, shattering vials and smashing ingredients with Zanzil's body. He bent down and hissed: "Ya be failin' me for da last time, Zanzil." "Jin'do… needs Zanzil,"
"If ya keep disappointin' me, I be afraid Jin'do will have to find a different way to resurrect Venoxis and Jeklik," Mandokir sneered, releasing his grip on Zanzil.
He then returned to the priestess who still lay on the ground, lifted her up and put her back in her cage. Then he strode out of Zanzil's grounds, leaving the other troll alone with the prisoners.
Zanzil slowly got up from the table. Some of the vials that had broken beneath him had left glass splinters in his back, and he began trying to pull them out of his dark skin, but he was unable to reach most of them.
Dorissa glanced up, making sure Mandokir was out of earshot. She then took a deep breath. It was time. "Zanzil," she said quietly, moving to the front of the cage to look at him. The troll did not react at first. He's probably used to hearing voices in his head he has to block out, Dorissa thought with a joyless smirk. She cleared her throat. "Zanziiil," she called softly, biting her lip nervously.
The troll looked up from his efforts and turned his head towards her, his face a question mark.
"I can help you with that," Dorissa said sweetly, gesturing towards his back.
Zanzil blinked. "Ya… Ya be speakin' Zanzil's tongue?"
"Yes. I know Zandali," she said carefully, holding her breath as she anticipated his reaction. The troll simply stared at her. "Do you want me to remove the splinters for you?" Dorissa then asked. A retching noise from the left indicated that Belfrida had awoken and was regurgitating the remnants of the horrid brew in the back of her cage; the following stench confirmed Dorissa's suspicions.
Zanzil did not respond to her question, but he had apparently decided upon investigating her intentions, for he slowly moved towards her cage with a cautious look on his face. When he stopped in front of her, Dorissa carefully reached out between the bamboo bars of her prison and gestured for him to turn around. He obeyed, and Dorissa gently began pulling out the pieces of glass sticking out of his skin. He winced a couple of times, but he did not utter a word.
When she had finished, Dorissa touched every one of the cuts with her middle finger and closed them with her basic healing abilities. Zanzil gasped upon feeling the wounds close, and he turned towards her and squatted down, staring at her with narrowing eyes. "Why ya be helpin' Zanzil?" "Yes. But you must promise not to tell anyone. Especially not Mandokir. He won't be happy if he knows I understand what you are attempting."
"Mandokir is not very nice to you, is he?" Dorissa said softly, looking up at the troll with large, innocent eyes. "I know you just want a friend, Zanzil. I can be your friend."
"Ya be… Zanzil's friend?"
Zanzil looked at her nervously. "How can Zanzil know he can trust elf girl?" he mumbled to himself.
Dorissa quickly thought through how she could convince him. It was essential for her plan that he trusted her to not take advantage of him. "I have something for you," she then said. It pained her, but she had to do it. She reached down her blouse and retrieved the enormous sapphire Zaladin had given her. With slightly trembling fingers she bit down on her lower lip to hold back the tears, pulled it over her head and laid it in the surprised troll's large hand. "It will bring you luck, friend," she said, forcing herself to smile at him.
"Ohhh," Zanzil said happily, holding the large pendant up to his eye, mesmerised by the glittering jewel. "Shiny charm for Zanzil!" he giggled. "Ya be Zanzil's friend after all!"
"Yes, but remember: do not tell Mandokir," Dorissa said firmly. "This is our secret," she added with a wink.
"Yes yes, our secret, Zanzil's secret," the troll babbled, and he got up and began cleaning his reagent table while excitedly humming an off-key tune.
"Who are you?" Belfrida suddenly asked hoarsely. Dorissa looked at her. The priestess appeared to have been watching the whole scenario closely from her cage.
"I already told you?"
"As it turns out, I don't think you did, really. How, for example, do you speak their language, and why haven't you mentioned it before now?"
The half-elf looked up at Zanzil, but the troll was far too engaged in rearranging his possessions to be listening in on them, and from her observations over the past days she had concluded that he did not actually understand enough Common to know what they said.
"I've been listening to their conversations, waiting for something I could use to get us out of here," she said quietly. "Zanzil here," - she gestured towards the humming troll - "is lonely and wants a friend. I'm going to give him one."
"Are you out of your mind?" Belfrida hissed. "You can't make friends with that," she said, pointing a dark finger in the troll's direction.
"No," Dorissa said, "but I can make him believe that I can."
The priestess cocked a brow condescendingly and snorted. "And that's going to get us where, exactly?"
"That's going to get my cage open."
Belfrida shook her head. "I hope you know what you're doing. And you avoided my first question; how do you know Zandali?"
"I was taught by a very… reliable source."
"As in, a troll."
"Yes, a troll," Dorissa said, rolling her eyes. "They're not all like your red-haired nightmare, you know."
"And what are your relations with this troll?" Belfrida asked coldly, ignoring the other female's last remark.
"What does it matter if it can help us get out of this place?"
The human shook her head. "I suppose it doesn't," she said briskly. "What was it you gave him?"
"Something very dear to me," Dorissa said quietly. "A gift from my life-mate."
"Impressive," Belfrida said. "That was quite the jewel. Is he wealthy?"
"Yes, but if I know him right I'm quite sure he didn't buy it, if you get my drift."
"Oh, he's in the army?"
"I suppose you could say that, yes," Dorissa said, avoiding details as much as she could. She was fairly certain the priestess would not look kindly upon the fact that of all men in the world she had chosen an undead troll to be her love.
"What's he like then?" Belfrida asked absently, reaching for a large leaf outside the bars to scrape the vomit off the ground and out of the cage.
"Unique," Dorissa said with a small smirk. "He's very intimidating and cold, but he can be extremely polite, too. I don't think he's aware of the last bit, though." She continued, lost in thought: "He's cruel, but loving. Every word he speaks weaves a noose around your neck, yet he makes you long for the moment when the stool is pulled from underneath your feet and you find yourself dangling on the edge between life and death."
"That," Belfrida said, covering the spot where she had retched with loose soil and vegetation, "is by far the most unlikely combination I have ever heard."
"If you ever meet him you will understand." Dorissa folded her arms around her knees, leaning against the bamboo bars behind her. "What about you. What was your life like before you ended up here?"
Belfrida glanced at her. "I was an advisor to the royal family in Gilneas. My husband was Sir Hubert Crowley, a handsome, gentle man who loved me for everything I never was and whose last name I was too proud to take."
"You speak in the past tense," Dorissa remarked.
"He is no more," the priestess said, her jaw tensing.
"I'm sorry."
"So am I."
Dorissa waited, but Belfrida did not continue. "Will you tell me what happened?"
"Why does it matter to you?"
"Because I can see in your eyes that you are alone and have confined in no one, and you look like you want to. And in the event that my plan should fail and we are to rot in here, you can at least let me know with whom I am to share my last days."
The priestess was silent for a couple of minutes. When she spoke, she sounded like she would rather drop dead than share the words that waited on the tip of her tongue: "My story is painful and dark, and I promise you that you will loathe me for the things I have done. If you want to know me, you must swear to me that no matter what you think of me when I have told you, you will not abandon me in this horrid place when you escape because you despise me."
Dorissa looked at the woman before her. She looked completely serious. She weighed the human's words and answered: "My own morals have been rather… unbalanced for quite a few years now. I promised you I would free you. Whatever you have done, I will not leave you here because of it."
Belfrida nodded. "I don't suppose you have heard what has happened in Gilneas as of late?"
"Not a word."
"Very well; from the beginning it is."
So stuff is slowly unfolding!
I do not have much to say on this chapter. Stay tuned; a hazardous escape is not far from being attempted, but whether or not it goes well I have no intention of revealing just yet.