I own few things. Not Warcraft, that's for sure.

Chasing Through Hell

Burning Crusade

"Find the stores. Take nothing you don't need. And watch yourselves. You know the enemy."

Around Maurus, the part of the Torn Wing that wasn't wounded or healing set into motion, beginning the search of the outpost. It shouldn't take long, seeing as it was composed of two dozen simple stone huts and two caves in the cliff that mostly hid the outpost from view and shielded it from the wild winds of the Netherstorm. It was actually very well-hidden, now that he thought about it and it had been a spot of luck that they had discovered it. They might as well make a bit more use of it.

"To'ro," he called. The cavalry leader looked up from the fel orc corpse his raptor was tearing into and saluted. Maurus pointed at the western-most hut, one of the larger ones, with a very noticeable hole in the roof to let out the smoke from a fire. "Put the dead there. We're staying here for the night."

To'ro nodded, the motion making his violet mohawk sway and his bone trinkets rattle, before beginning to shout orders. Soon, sixty trolls and the few forsaken under Maurus' command were gathering up the corpses. Every forsaken except one. Maurus could practically feel his friend's gaze and silently waited for him to speak.

"We're wasting time," he said. Maurus noted with annoyance, but not real surprise, that the impatient tone was back. "By my reckoning, it's only a little past noon. And daylight isn't an issue anyway."

"We need the rest. And the supplies," Maurus replied. As he did, he glanced at the corpses littering the ground, around a hundred fel orcs and lost ones and only a few fel guards and succubi. After the numerous encounters with fully demonic forces, the fight had almost seemed easy, despite the ferocity of the fel orcs.

"You're coddling them. It won't take all afternoon to empty this place and they've got more miles in them," Mathias argued.

Maurus snorted and gave him a flat look. "I dare you to tell that to Saru and Driv," he said. Right on cue, Saru let out a pained and rather spectacular curse, probably from getting the third arrow pulled out of him.

"Every hour we delay-"

Maurus cut him off, his tone hard. "Mathias. We are going at the speed I say, because I judge it to give us the best chances. I should not need to explain this." Mathias grit his teeth but Maurus held his gaze and continued, pitching his voice a little lower: "I don't actually have to either. For whatever reason, they picked me for command and I don't think you want the spot, do you?"

Mathias' pale yellow eyes stared into Maurus' for a moment, before he reluctantly said: "No."

The assent made some of the tension Maurus hadn't even noticed bleed out of him, but the reluctance made him continue, emphasizing the words: "We need the supplies. We especially need the food. You do too, unless you want to join your brethren back there."

Mathias' eyes darted to the western-most hut and horror and hurt flashed across his face before the anger came back and Maurus felt a twinge of regret at his words. Consciously trying to keep both that and the irritation from his voice, he said: "Besides, the warlocks can use the time to triangulate."

That was at least true. The Netherstorm seemed to do what no amount of distance had done, the unnatural winds seemingly obscuring the trail, though thankfully never to the degree that it was lost. That uncertainty was probably one of the reasons Mathias was so on edge, but that knowledge did little to ease Maurus' frustration with him. He was wound tight as well, the responsibility of command weighing heavily on him, made worse by the new delicate food situation. He was painfully aware that they could be forced to turn back if they were unable to raid or the already sparse animals thinned out too much, even if it hadn't been much of an issue yet.

Finally, Mathias looked away and Maurus could see the conscious effort he took to relax, straightening his back from the hunched-over stance he'd slipped into. He took a deep breath, something Maurus still found a little weird, and expelled it in a frustrated huff.

"Fine. Do as you like," he growled. He stood for a moment more before turning to leave and as he began walking, he shot back over his shoulder: "Don't be so sure you'd win the challenge."

Maurus found his mood actually lightening a bit at those words. There was little joviality in them, but they were closer to some of the exchanges he and Mathias usually shared and he was pretty sure Mathias had meant them as such, even if he also believed them.

He stood for a few moments before he walked over to the ravine that was the main entrance to the village and which would have made a normal assault a costly affair. The lookouts that were posted by it saluted him as he approached, with a promptness that still made him feel strange and he nodded in return before sitting down. He took a handful of dark sand from the ground and began cleaning the blood from his axe. For a few moments he watched the blood flake off, revealing the beginning of sigils in the metal and then he raised his head, looking out over the cracked, debris-covered plain.

It seemed to go on forever, a desolate, hostile landscape, rent asunder by the storm that kept tearing at it. The winds were as bad as in Blade's Edge and the bolts of azure and emerald lightning made simply moving in the open a dangerous and frightening endeavor. That animals and people could survive there for prolonged periods of time was simply staggering and Maurus felt a burst of pride that The Torn Wing was doing as well as it was. Behind him, he even heard the trolls begin an easy, slow song as they worked. Normally, he would have tried to hush them, but ever since entering the Blade's Edge, there was no need to keep voices down, because the winds simply ripped away the sounds and roared over them. Maurus doubted anyone not inside the outpost would be able to hear even the loudest of the trolls.

So instead of doing anything about the song, he listened with half an ear as his hands worked.

It had a strange effect on him. On the one hand, the carefree voices were calming to listen to. At the same time, the carefreeness was disturbing him, knowing what work they were doing and especially what he knew they would do with the bodies once they were out of sight. It was disgusting, but practical and as long as he didn't think too much about it, he could live with it. It did, after all, enormously reduce their need to hunt and their use of their raided supplies.

He managed to wrestle his thoughts away from that subject again and just let his mind wander as his he took in the dangerous, but actually quite beautiful scenery. He had become quite good at that during the last few weeks and he hardly thought about why the trolls were always on clean-up, why they took so long or why he had instituted a second looting round after each battle.

"Commander!"

The call snapped Maurus out of his musings and he turned to see Teran hurrying toward him, moving around the tents that were being pitched between the huts. For once his robe and long, blonde hair wasn't the wind's playthings and it was remarkable how much more dignified he looked when they weren't flapping in the wind. But the expression in his pinched, severe face and his rapid walk made Maurus move to meet him. When Teran burst twenty yards forward with a word and a flash of light, past Wiven and six other mages on water duty, Maurus knew it was urgent.

"What is it?" He asked quickly.

Teran whirled on his heels and waved for Maurus to follow as he answered. "We found more lost ones in the tunnels. Non-combatants. Things are a little tense."

Maurus' stomach clenched and he lengthened his stride, making Teran have to run to keep up. He had feared that since they left the main army and for a few moments, his head went blank. He felt only a vague discomfort as the cliff closed over his head, hiding the sky and then his thoughts began moving again.

"Who's in there?" He asked, as Teran guided him down a side passage and the tunnel changed from natural to roughly carved.

Teran rattled off a short list of names, blood elves and orcs, mostly, Thalmir, Slova and Seranna among the most important ones. Maurus nodded in recognition and held up a hand, forestalling any more input from Teran. He took a slow breath and squared his shoulders. He would see them and then make a decision.

A short while of silence later, Maurus heard the quiet murmur that came with a large group. He turned a corner and ducked through a doorway that he wouldn't have seen if Teran hadn't pointed it out to him and found all his blood elves save a handful of mages and maybe half his orcs standing in a dimly lit room. The tension was thick in the air and there was a clear divide in the group, though not along any obvious racial or professional lines and his soldiers still stood close enough to hide the far end of the room from him. Seranna and her red-haired sisters visibly relaxed when they saw him but he spotted both Thalmir and Dromon glare irritably at Teran.

There was a clatter and clang, as sixty fists struck chests and Maurus nodded in response. A few moments passed.

"What did you find?" Maurus asked expectantly, meeting Thalmir's sullen gaze before looking over the blood elves around him. Thalmir was an unpleasant one and his friends did nothing to improve Maurus' overall impression of the blood elves, but they had never really challenged him.

This time was no different. The blood elves parted with obvious reluctance, letting Maurus see a small group in the craggy end of the cavern. Most of them weren't much larger than Widget, small, palely purple, deformed forms huddled beneath ragged cloaks. Despite the hoods, their eyes were visible as small, faintly glowing dots and the long, thin teeth caught the light. At the front were four more lost ones, closer to orc-size. They looked even more hunched over than the others and their features were made even uglier by the countless wrinkles in their skin. All but one among the little group held knives, sticks and other makeshift weapons in unsteady hands and Maurus had seen enough dying lost ones to recognize the fear in their grimaces. With the amount of steel and hostile eyes that were turned their way, it was an understandable one.

Maurus felt his stomach sink and his mouth twisted as bile rose in his throat. Children and elders and judging by their weapons, bruises and pathetic clothing, they had not been treated well.

"Lower you damn weapons," he growled. The lost ones shuddered and huddled closer together, clutching their weapons tighter and he felt a sting of shame. More clearly, he ordered: "Soldiers, weapons down!"

A number of his soldiers had already lowered their weapons, but now the rest of the orcs and Thalmir's men also lowered them. No-one put their weapons away though and despite wanting to, Maurus didn't give that order. He knew how dangerous anything cornered could be.

He stepped forward and despite not being able to huddle much closer, the lost ones did try. Deciding that getting closer wouldn't help, he stopped twenty feet from the closest elder and asked as calmly as possible: "Do you understand Orcish?"

The lost ones looked nervously at each other.

Maurus tried again. "Eredun?"

That got a couple of alarmed sounds from the children and anger glimmered in the eyes of the elders. He held up his hands in surrender and said gently: "Orcish it is then. I hate the Legion. Do you understand?"

This time, the front elder nodded slowly, his eyes full of suspicion. At least, that was what Maurus guessed, the grimace that their teeth pulled their faces into made their expressions hard to read.

Turning his head, he caught Teran's eyes and said: "Get me To'ro. Tell him to take a break. And get ropes."

He heard Teran hurry off as he turned his head back to the now suspicious-looking elder.

"I am Maurus Ragetotem, leader of the Torn Wing, 27th regiment of the Horde Expedition. I-"

"Wait," Thalmir interrupted. Maurus narrowed his eyes and turned to the elf.

"Yes?"

"Don't make a promise you can't keep," he said gravely.

Maurus considered Thalmir for a long moment before asking, his sharp: "So that is why Teran thought he needed to come get me?"

Dromon was the one that answered: "We don't have the time or resources to lug around prisoners."

"I don't plan to lug them around," Maurus answered flatly. Thalmir ignored the tone.

"We-"

"Will be quiet while we wait for To'ro," Maurus snapped and this time, the message was understood. Thalmir's mouth snapped shut so fast that Maurus would have been able to hear if not for the restless murmur around him, but his expression was stormy. Looking back at the elder lost one, who looked a little lost, he slowly and carefully enunciated: "I do not wish to harm you."

If that calmed the lost ones any, they didn't show it. In fact, the small ones squeezed closer together, the ones on the edge of the circle looking very unhappy with their vulnerable positions. The tension was thick in the room and Maurus was dismayed to see the division in his soldiers. With the way they worked on the battlefield, he had begun to hope they would get along better off it. Then again, they was plenty of history to cause division and the stresses of being one of the vanguards weren't doing wonders for anyone's temper. He carefully kept his thoughts from showing on his face, keeping his back straight and his eyes hard as he waited and a few minutes later, To'ro came loping into the room. Ba'ril and San'ji were right behind him and Teran and Mathias came in after the trio, both with brows furrowed in worry or suspicion.

'Mathias isn't going to like this,' Maurus thought, sighing inwardly. "To'ro," he greeted, nodding at each of the new arrivals in turn.

"Boss," To'ro replied, saluting along with Ba'ril, San'ji and Teran.

"How fast can your riders go to the southern bridge and back?" Maurus asked. He gestured to the lost ones. "With a little extra weight?"

To'ro stood a little straighter, a gleam of pride entering his eyes as he considered the lost ones. "If dey behave?" He held up a hand, all fingers extended. "Three days, max."

Maurus nodded thoughtfully and looked around the room till his eyes fell on a small orc, hidden in layers of dark robes and adorned with so many bone trinkets, teeth and small skulls that he clacked whenever he moved. "We'll stay two. Take Slova, he can lead you back if we've moved."

As To'ro nodded, Maurus saw Mathias step forward but it was Thalmir who spoke first, also closing the distance. "With respect, sergeant, we should not waste time."

There were murmurs of agreement from behind him and Maurus could see sentiment reflected in several faces, Mathias' included.

"We're not," Maurus said flatly, feeling his jaw clench.

"We are not out here to free people," Mathias said.

"We're not here to cut their throats either," Maurus replied coldly, looking from Mathias to Thalmir. "Or to set them out in the storm, that puts them and us at risk. The delay is manageable."

"And the loss of our cavalry is too?" Thalmir challenged. "You'll cripple us for two dozen draenei wretched?

Maurus felt the frustration begin to show on his face and he made no effort to conceal his glare. "We'll have enough scouts left to keep the perimeter and the others will be back soon enough."

"We don't have the luxury of being this soft," Thalmir replied, a sullen burn in his voice. He was now close enough that Maurus could reach out and touch him and he was standing as tall as he could in order to meet Maurus' gaze. "Put down the wretched and let's move on!"

"We have the duty to do right. To act with honor," Maurus growled.

"Do right? by the fel-warped? They're practically demons." Thalmir snorted. "Rutting with a warlock has skewed your-"

Maurus anger blazed white-hot and his hand snapped out, the armored back of his fingers smacking into Thalmir's face and sending him to the ground. Thalmir's eyes were furious when he rolled onto his back, but before he could do anything, Maurus rested his hoof lightly on his sternum, covering much of his chest with his wide hoof. Thalmir gasped at the weight, sending droplets of blood from his nose and mouth into the air and there were several sounds of alarm from his friends.

"Am I soft," Maurus growled, "for holding on to some semblance of decency in this blasted crater of a world?" As his eyes found the discoloration around the lost ones' wrists, images flashed across his inner eye, of shaking, ill goblins, some of them half the size of Widget and of the misshapen red orcs, dead in their cots. His hands remembered the cold weight of little bodies in Duskwood. "My priorities have nothing to do with whom I rut. I don't kill children. I don't kill the old." He leaned a bit more weight on Thalmir's chest. "This is not the old Horde. We are not monsters. We kill our enemies, not their victims. If anyone breaks that rule, I will cut off his head and rip out his heart!"

He met eyes of all colors, from pale dead to those that glowed with fel and raised his voice. "Anyone who has a problem with that is welcome to challenge me. Right now!"

The silence fell with the weight of a hammer. Thalmir's friends looked ready for violence, their fingers rippling with the beginning motions of spells but Maurus could see the hesitance in their stances. Mathias was frowning, and his hand was gripping the pommel of his sword so hard that Maurus could see the tension in his arm. No-one held his gaze, though Seranna and her sisters, as well as Slova and Dromon, gave him acknowledging nods.

"Good," Maurus spat. He lifted his hoof off of Thalmir and waved at him as the elf sucked in a relieved breath. "Seranna, fix him. Slova, To'ro!"

The warlock shuffled forward and To'ro took up position beside him.

"Treat them gently. Deliver them safely into the care of the Horde. Don't abandon them unless it is them or you," Maurus said quietly. He looked at To'ro. "I'll have your word, on blood, honor and the Loa."

To'ro's blue eyes were calm. "De word is given."

Satisfied, Maurus looked at Slova. "Swear, on blood and power."

Slova's glowing green eyes, starkly ringed with reddened skin met Maurus' eyes for a long moment. Then he grinned, showing crooked, bestial teeth. "On my power and blood, I will bring the lost ones to the Horde. And us back to you."

Maurus nodded and turned back to the lost ones and in a carefully respectful tone, he said: "Elder. We will bring you to the Horde, on the edge of the Storm. I swear that you have not simply switched abusers if you go to the Horde. But you will need to be bound for the journey."

Again, the lost ones' expressions were hard to read and a short conversation in a language Maurus didn't recognize followed. He waited, absently noting that Seranna was working on Thalmir, and felt a nervousness that seemed disproportional to the situation. He had avoided the worst of it, the tension was seeping from the air and he was the one in control here, so why should he be nervous?

The answer was obvious. He didn't want to use force on the children or the elders. They looked miserable enough without him adding to their indignity.

Finally, the lost ones' conversation ended and the one Maurus had talked to stepped forward, lowering his butcher's knife to the ground and the ones behind him followed his example. His expression was a conflicted grimace and Maurus thought he saw both grief and anger in his eyes. He spoke with a strange accent when he said: "We will go with you, if you give your word. But we will not thank you. You have killed the little ones' fathers and mothers, our daughters and sons."

Maurus swallowed the lump in his throat, thinking of the bodies outside. Now that he thought about it, most of the lost ones had been at the front of the fighting, seeming to be almost driven by the fel orcs and he wondered how many of them bore the marks of shackles. He nodded stiffly. "You have my word that my riders will strive for your safety." Regret entered his voice as he added: "I cannot promise that they will do whatever they can for your survival, but they will not abandon you easily."

It was hard to hold the lost one's gaze, but Maurus managed. "Please tell me your names."

"Udolo," the elder said, his tone warming minutely. He pointed to each lost one in turn, naming them as he went.

"Thank you," Maurus said, nodding at them. "To'ro, you're responsible. Set off as soon as possible. I'm going outside."

He left the room, certain that To'ro would keep anyone from 'fixing' the problem for them in his absence. Ba'ril and several others followed him out, so it was not till he slumped down at the spot Teran had found him that he allowed himself to sigh heavily. He knew how ruthless the forsaken could be, but that ruthlessness was present in both orcs and trolls and the blood elves had gotten the same reputation in less than two decades. Spending his time with Arianna, Wiven and Mathias, who mostly seemed to align with his own views, he had almost forgotten that.

He realized after a while that he was not just admiring the scenery, but rather searching the cliffs for a dark grey wolf and its riders. Missing and worrying about Arianna was one more reason he was on edge and the knowledge that his worry was useless and silly after only three days, was not making it any better. According to Slova, all three of their decoys seemed to be moving with the normal erratic pattern, so it didn't seem that anything had happened.

Then again, the interference of the storm, which at least worked in their favor now that they were staying in one place, did make Slova's assurance a little less comforting.

Looking around, he found himself wishing Widget had come with them. She could probably have pestered him out of the gloom he found himself in, but he could understand and accept her unwillingness to go on such a dangerous mission again. Wiven was busy and also more on edge again and Mathias was probably not someone who would improve his mood right now. So Maurus leaned back on his hands and tried to relax beneath the storming sky.

Two days passed and despite the nervous restlessness that Maurus felt and saw in the others, he could also see the good the rest did. There seemed to be less snapping and arguing and even Thalmir's elves had assumed a mostly respectful tone, both toward Maurus and toward the rest of the regiment.

Maurus, for his part, had felt the ache from constant movement fade and that, along with Mathias' partially improved mood, made him feel twenty pounds lighter as he stood beside Crava at the edge of the outpost. Behind him, just under three hundred others were packing up the last things, most of the major packing having been done the previous day. Wiven and the other mages were handing out waterskins and Ba'ril's men were securing supplies to the two kodos they had for pack animals.

"Boss."

Maurus turned to Crava as the orc lowered a goblin spyglass from his eye.

"Think she's back," he said, gesturing with the spyglass. Maurus squinted against the slight mist that the winds drove over the valley that morning, seeing nothing. Crava pressed the spyglass into his hand.

"Thanks," Maurus said and raised the small wonder to his eye. In Crava's hands it was small and awkward. In Maurus' it was downright tiny and he fumbled with it a bit before he got a handle on it.

He searched for a few moments, not finding what Crava had found before he pointed out. Two familiar, grey wolves and a dark purple raptor crouched in the shade of a rock the size of a barracks and Maurus could just make out the spot of gold that must be Arianna's hair on one of the four people down there. He found himself smiling, feeling a warmth he'd been missing in his chest, but then he frowned. Arianna had gone out with Druga and Beriga, but now there was a raptor rider with them and they were holding themselves low and still, not coming closer, despite the mostly clear path between the rock and the outpost.

Maurus could think of only one reason to hide, so he raised the spyglass and looked into the distance behind the scouts, expecting to see the indistinct mass of an enemy force or at least a sizeable scouting party.

Something filled the entire lens of the spyglass and for a moment he thought he had let his vision drift to one of the rocks. Fiddling a bit with the spyglass, he managed to zoom out and he sucked in a breath.

A titan of dark green steel strode across the plain in the distance, becoming clearer as it came closer and the mist seemed to burn away around it. It had the proportions of an infernal, with massive piston-like limbs, fists like boulders, a small head and a torso that looked like a furnace burning with fel flame. Massive gears churned as it walked, its every move seeming jerky and abrupt, but its step was solid and it ate up the distance with incredible speed.

With a heart thundering in his chest and the feeling that he could feel the steps of the colossus, Maurus almost absently noted that it wasn't moving directly toward him, but rather east-northeast. Its would not come within a mile of the outpost and the regiment of felguards walking behind it would probably follow it. But it would be just his luck if they decided to resupply by the outpost that he was standing in and even if they could possibly win against the regiment, there was no way they could hurt the thing leaving a trail of foot-deep footprints. Footprints like the ones he had seen before but dismissed as meteor craters or simple sinkholes.

"We are moving!" He roared and he was sure there was a note of terror in his voice. "Leave what you haven't secured. Now!"

"Crava, keep an eye out. Follow when they get within half a mile or when they are gone."

He hesitated for a moment and his eyes found the outcrop that Arianna was hiding by. His throat constricted and he could feel his eyes sting, but with an effort that felt painful, he forced himself to turn around.

He hurried back into the camp as bored routine became frantic scrambling. He snatched up his belongings and made his way to the opposite side of the outpost, where another, mostly hidden path led down an incline onto the western side of the outpost. Mathias and Calen was by his side by the time he passed the western-most hut and with admirable speed, the rest of the torn wing followed them down into the shadow of the cliff.

The cliff that shielded the outpost turned into a jagged rise on that side, one that they followed onto a plain that was much less easily navigated than the one on the east side. But it had the advantage of providing plenty of cover and the Torn Wing spread out to hide as best they could among the ravines and rocky outcrops.

Then they waited. The fear lay heavily on them, choking out any beginning conversation. Maurus stood in the cover of a jagged mound of boulders and found himself missing Widget once again. She had always managed to break tension, if nothing else, then with her nervous chatter. Standing with Calen, Wiven and Mathias, looking carefully for Crava's signal, he could think of nothing to say to ease the heavy atmosphere, no matter how much he longed for it.

The minutes passed in agonizing slowness. Every shift in the skies above made Maurus think Legion flyers were about to come down on him and every flicker of lightning made him fear the impact of mortars. The ground rumbled after maybe five minutes, a subtle vibration that was accompanied by a growl like that of a beast made of stone and it took a few moments before Maurus realized that it wasn't the footfalls of the mechanical giant closing on them but rather one of the earthquakes that frequently rolled through the islands of the Netherstorm. The quaking grew to the point where Maurus had to steady himself and found himself looking worriedly at the rock beside him as pebbles were shaken loose, but then the quake faded again and with it, some of Maurus' unease.

About a quarter of an hour after the descent, Crava appeared on the top of the slope and Maurus breathed a sigh of relief when he raised both arms in a 'v' above his head. A few barked orders and ten minutes later, they were back up at the outpost and Maurus' mood was rapidly improving as he watched Arianna and her companions approach

"What was that thing?" Crava asked after a little while. He sounded a little shaken, but also fascinated. Maurus had never noticed Crava having an interest in engineering and once more, he found it a shame that Widget wasn't with them.

He shrugged, keeping his trepidation from his face. "Legion siege engine. I'd heard rumors, but I really hope the chiefs have considered how to take one of those down."

"I'll say," Crava said. "Didn't know you could scale up the shredder concept to that size."

"I doubt it works without fel magic to cheat," Maurus said. He blinked. 'When did I have that sort of understanding,' he thought curiously.

"Probably right," Crava said. Maurus didn't pay much attention, because the four riders had reached them. Arianna was riding behind a pale orc in riding leathers, her hands clasped around his uncommonly thin stomach and Maurus pursed his lips in slight and unreasonable annoyance. Druga was a fast rider and falling from a loping wolf would at best leave one with massive abrasions.

San'ji was the one riding the purple raptor, his leathers grey and purple to match his mount and his hair. Beriga was the one leading the group and she leapt down the instant they reached Maurus, her braids swinging around her scarred face and her kodo-hide boots sending up a cloud of purple dust when she landed. San'ji followed suit, landing in a crouch, then letting himself plop down into a proper sitting position.

Arianna dismounted a bit more carefully and Druga sidled down easily, nodding his bald head at Maurus as he did.

All of them looked tired and tense, but for the moment, Maurus let the joy of seeing Arianna push away his worries. He swept Arianna into a tight hug, basking in the warmth of her soft body and her voice as she quietly said: "Feathers."

"Tomorrow, I promise," he answered, smiling. The exchange was pretty nonsensical, which was kind of the point, but Maurus had no doubt Arianna really did wish for a proper featherbed for once. In that light, it was Maurus' blatantly false promise that was the most nonsensical. He looked at the others and quickly exchanged codes with them, before calling

He led them towards Wiven, who was back to filling a barrel with water. "So, what do you have to tell me? You really ought to have warned us a little quicker of that movement back there."

"We saw them a day and a half ago, but we couldn't move properly. There was too much risk of being seen and then the news would be useless."

Maurus nodded, though he still felt a vague annoyance. The perimeter should have ensured them earlier warning. A bit of guilt crept into his belly. Maybe he hadn't assigned enough scouts and sent away too much cavalry.

He shook the thought away and looked at the worn faces of the four. They had reached the barrel and he picked up a ladle, handing it to San'ji as he asked: "I take it you don't bring good news."

San'ji sighed. Tired, blue eyes met Maurus' and his lips pursed around his tusks, his expression grim. "Not at all," he said darkly. "The Black Temple was empty, a diversion. Zabra'jin, Swamprat, the Cenarion Refuge, all gone. So's the Spawning Glen. Telredor is under siege and the Marshligth Portal is being repaired. The Legion has Zangarmarsh and is spilling over the borders. They played us all for fools."

Well, this one was a bit quicker. Go me.

I actually quite like this chapter, both because I think it was interesting to write and because it propels the story forward. I hope you like it as well. And even if you don't, I'd like to hear what you think.

Also, I do know that a few things in this chapter doesn't align quite with canon, according to the wiki. So this is getting more and more AU, but I'm hoping it makes sense.

Cheers.