I'm really sorry that this update took so long. Nothing I can say can really justify why, but . . .

Thoughts on Legion, anyone?


11 – Pyrewood

Kathryn

'I don't understand,' Lorna murmured, Tobias' limp hand clasped tightly in her own. 'Why isn't he waking up?'

Kathryn dunked a washcloth in a bucket of cold water, and reapplied it to his burning forehead, chewing on the inside of her cheek. 'I don't know,' she admitted.

'Is it because he was poisoned for too long, or what? Does the Curse have anything to do with it?'

Kathryn shook her head, shrugging a little. 'I doubt it's the Curse. Farley has it too, and he was up and tracking down beer within the hour. Maybe . . .' She paused, and screwed up her face in thought. 'Maybe it's related to the wound's location in regards to vital organs?'

Lorna gave her a sideways glance, as though she were considering the possibility of that idea, however reluctantly. 'Perhaps. Or . . .' She trailed off and exhaled through her mouth, rolling out her shoulders a little.

Kathryn, who had been on her way to dump the remaining dirty water outside, paused. She swallowed, several possibilities occurring to her all at once, and unconsciously tensed the left side of her face, causing the eyebrow to arch slightly. 'Or what?' she asked quietly.

'Or it hasn't worked.'

'Shut up.' Lorna jumped slightly at the immediate sharpness in her tone, and gave her a slightly disbelieving look. Her dark brown eyes flickered up to meet Kathryn's bicoloured ones, and her expression formed a familiar question that she could read all too well. Why must you deny everything all the time?

'I'm not in denial,' she said, averting her eyes. 'It's called open-mindedness.'

'Since when are you open minded?'

'I have my moments.'

Lorna scoffed. 'You don't say.'

'I'm a better person for it.'

'I agree there.' Lorna spared Tobias a sad glance, before getting to her feet. 'I hope it lasts.'

Kathryn linked their arms together. 'I promise not to become a raging psychopath.'

'Thank you.'

The moment was cut short by the sound of boot steps stopping outside of Lorna's tent, followed by a, 'Miss Crowley?'

Lorna and Kathryn exchanged a slightly dubious glance, before the former untangled herself and strode over to the doorway, pushing open the flap. 'Yes?'

'Your father has returned.'


Kathryn watched the fleet of ships pull into the dock from the hill to the east. She didn't move as groups of 7th Legion troopers rolled out fresh artillery, and crates upon crates of supplies, before moving up into the Headlands towards the base camp. She stayed in the same position; worgen form, muscles taut, ears pricked, and perfectly balanced on all fours, listening to the wind.

She wasn't exactly sure what she was waiting for. Change, perhaps. Maybe a sign that things would get better.

The sun was just reaching the horizon, casting an orange and pink glow out across the water, and the first stars were starting to become visible. As darkness started to crawl up from the forest behind her, Kathryn padded around in a small circle, before flopping down in the grass with a short huff.

Slowly the warmer tones in the sky faded into a dark purple, before shifting completely into blackness. Kathryn didn't budge, and lay there unblinking, letting the cold breeze pass over her in waves.

'Come back to camp.'

Kathryn had heard Lorna approach, but only proceeded to ignore her, burying her nose in the scruffy fur of her haunches. Lorna sighed slightly, as though she had been expecting such a response, and plonked down in the grass beside her, setting down the lamp she had been carrying.

'It's not your fault, you know.'

Kathryn made a low, irritable noise somewhere in the depths of her chest, and pointedly shut her eyes.

'Kathryn.'

Lorna let out a long-suffering sigh, before tossing something with a thump on the grass in front of Kathryn's face. 'Mail delivery.'

Kathryn jerked in slight surprise, sitting up abruptly and looking at Lorna confusedly. Lorna simply tilted her head towards the package.

Kathryn looked at it apprehensively for a short moment, before morphing back into human form and picking it up with delicate hands. She carefully unlaced the twine holding together the brown butcher's paper, and unfolded it.

It was a dark leather jacket; battered, dirty, and achingly familiar. A folded square of creamy parchment with her name written on it poked out of the left pocket.

'By the Light,' Lorna breathed, her brow furrowing in realisation as she leaned over for a closer look. 'Is that - ?'

'My old jacket?' Kathryn mumbled, in slight shock. 'I think so. But how? I . . .' She gave a short, disbelieving huff of laughter. 'I lost it when I got the Curse. I honestly couldn't tell you where the hell it ended up. So, how . . . ?'

'I don't know. But look.' Lorna took the parchment between her first two fingers and gave it to her. Kathryn unfolded it to find a long, extensive letter, and a second page which proceeded to fall out. Lorna waited silently as her eyes scanned over the pages, absently fingering the cuff of one of the sleeves. As she read, Kathryn felt her formerly tense face slip into something akin to slight shock, and she looked back at the jacket for a brief second. After several minutes, once she had read and reread the letter a few times over, she set it down. 'Oh.'

'Want to talk about it?' Lorna asked, watching her carefully.

Kathryn picked up the jacket and brushed off some of the dirt that had been pressed into the creases, before slipping it on. Even after all these years, it gave the same comfort, and the worgen part of her could still find the faintest traces of her smell clinging to the seam fibres. She closed her eyes, and for the first time in a very long while, she let out a sigh quite close to contentment. 'The Greymanes sent it.'

Lorna gave her a marginally confused look. 'How? Why . . . Why would they have it?'

'Liam. Found it a few months after I disappeared. Bloody idiot knew it was mine and kept it. Mia was sorting through their possessions the other day and it was amongst the things they had time to save.'

'That's really . . .' Lorna chewed her bottom lip and looked at Kathryn with a faint trace of a smile on her face. 'He liked you before he even knew your middle name.' She shook her head exasperatedly, now full-on grinning. 'The fool.'

She drew the jacket a little more tightly around herself. It was the first thing since leaving that really felt like home.


Kathryn finished up the letters she had started in Ironforge, and put them in the crate full of mail due to be sent back to Stormwind. They were short and tacky; writing had never been her strong suit, and she hated trying to accurately form her thoughts into words. After deciding it was best to just write lies about how she was okay, she folded and sealed them, before scribbling names and addresses on the front.

While he was away, Darius had successfully convinced the Hillsbrad refugees to join the fight. At this victory, the worgen forces were almost doubled, giving Kathryn fresh hope that they could actually win this damn campaign.

Taking advantage of the numbers, Darius sent a two dozen worgen to launch a surprise attack on the Forsaken's Forward Command. While Sylvanas and her forces were occupied, the 7th Legion and the remaining worgen who weren't injured would take the opportunity to overtake Pyrewood Village, to the north. Kathryn was among those numbers. Though an unnervingly large part of her wanted to go to the Forward Command and try to find Sylvanas, she knew that such a risk would most likely end her life. Thus, grudgingly obeying her conscience, she riffled through the short supply of leather armour, trying to find something that would be small enough to fit her. Eventually she took a breastplate that sat a little too wide on the shoulders, some greaves, stiff spaulders with a number of punctures, and some strange piece of leg armour made up of worn leather pads, straps and buckles. Most of it was too big, but she took it all regardless, intending to adjust it the best that she could.

She met up with Lorna at the back of the camp, who was engrossed in a serious looking conversation with the 7th Legion squadron leader.

'. . . they have their strongest fortifications at the town hall, which is probably be where they'll be keeping their artillery, if they have any.' She looked over the man's shoulder and spotted Kathryn, before waving her over hastily. 'This is Kathryn,' she told him. 'I was going to get her to help you lead the attack.'

Kathryn blinked once. 'Excuse me, what now?'

'I need you to lead the worgen in this operation,' Lorna replied, not faltering under her horrified look. 'The 7th Legion will be leading an attack from the eastern side, while the rest of you stealth in from the southern side and try to take the main buildings as quickly as possible. Meanwhile, they'll be taking out the worst of the troops.'

Kathryn blinked again, still feeling slightly miffed. 'Yeah, alright. Sure. That's fine. Kathryn Weiss, Leader of Men. Leader of Wolf Men, anyway. Sounds fun.'

The squadron leader gave her a funny look, as though he almost couldn't comprehend that someone who seemed to idiotic and unprofessional would aid in leading an assault. Lorna picked up on this rather quickly, and addressed him with a single arched eyebrow.

'Kathryn is the best we have. She is a fully qualified rogue, and was on the front lines in the Battle for Gilneas. Granted, she has no formal military history, but she's a quick and logical thinker. I trust her with my life, and you should too.'

The man's jaw twitched, and he gave her one final scrutinising look, before turning back to Lorna. 'Very well. However, we have received new information which may change the situation.'

Lorna paused. 'What?'

'Sylvanas has raised and appointed a new strategical advisor – one who knows this land and its people very well. And, to a degree, its king.'

Lorna's gaze hardened, and her tone became icy. She spoke a single word, measured and careful. 'Who?'

'Lord Vincent Godfrey.'

Kathryn immediately let out an unexpected squawk of outrage, and several seconds of silence passed thereafter. Finally Lorna, now trembling with barely contained rage, spoke, her voice soft yet deadly.

'Then this changes everything.' She pulled her hair out of her face and tied it back, before rolling out her shoulders with some sort of finality. 'We have a new target.'


'We've got to take that bastard out. He can't give Sylvanas all our secrets.'

'You know he will, and we can't do anything about that until we make a new plan of attack.' Kathryn let out an angry hiss as she accidentally overtightened her leg guards, and looked up at Sam from where she sat, practically seething. 'I want to rip his head off myself.'

'Many of us do,' he replied. 'But we can't do anything about that until we find him.'

There was a long silence, save for the sound of Kathryn adjusting her armour. Godfrey was a selfish, conniving bastard who deserved worse than undeath itself. And the fact that he had betrayed his king in life, and also continued to do so in death was infuriating. Yet, he could still be dealt with . . .

A small, feral smile stretched across Kathryn's face. ' . . . and I can do that . . .'

'What?' Sam asked, looking at her sharply. She got to her feet.

'You're going to lead the attack on Pyrewood. I'm going to find Godfrey.'

'Don't you dare,' he hissed. 'You'll put us all at risk if you do that.'

'No I won't,' she replied. 'Sylvanas will be completely occupied by the attack we're launching on the Front. In the midst of all that chaos, I can sneak in, kill Godfrey, and sneak back out.'

'One thing at a time,' Sam insisted. 'We'll deal with Godfrey eventually, but we can't take him out too soon or Sylvanas will get an idea of what we're doing. We can't risk that.'

Kathryn frowned at him. 'He knows too much. Sylvanas could learn anything about this place from him, and we can't risk that.'

Sam sighed. 'So what do we do?'

Kathryn exhaled slowly, before reluctantly giving in. 'We'll take out Pyrewood first. After that Godfrey will die. I swear it.'


3/11/16