Furious voices along with crashes of metal and bodies woke Iscah up, her surroundings a blur for a few seconds as she blinked her eyes back into focus. The light was dim, a few sparse torches barely enough to illuminate what had to be a prison. Her cell was three walls of smooth stone, a vanity with a wooden bowl of fresh water and a privy next to it. She sat up on the cot lumpy with fresh hay, cringing when she caught the rancid smell of bodies that hadn't had baths for weeks.
An orc went flying past the bar cells in front of her, Apoch flashing into view at the door, picking with frantic speed even though his face was blank. He glanced up as another guard barrelled at him, bracing himself on the bars and kicking his foot out sideways to catch the male in the gut, doubling him over as he came to a halt wrapped around the trolls heel.
The lock clicked and he jerked the door open, slamming it shut behind him as four more guards appeared with weapons drawn.
"Dogg, zug ha no'ku zaga nogu kazum!" One bellowed, spitting with rage at the troll. Apoch held up a ring with keys on it, shaking it so it gave a jingle.
"Re'ka regas ogar ha golar 'l ka ha magan," he replied back tauntingly, the orc's face turning a questionable shade of purple before he slammed his mace against the bars and stalked off. The three others behind him followed after a moment of staring at the High Warlord with expressions ranging from amusement to dismay.
Exhaling shakily he turned and collapsed onto his knees by her cot, gathering her in his arms and burying his face against her shoulder. She hiccuped a sob, twisting her fingers into his hair painfully tight.
"How? How? You die, I see it!"
"Nothing so dramatic," he replied, voice gruff with emotion. "I passed out when you forced the Djinn back into the dagger. Are you alright?"
She shook her head in response, too choked up to give any sort of decent answer. He lifted her off the flimsy bed and sat down on it, cradling her in his lap comfortingly as she wept against his chest. When she had cried herself down to sniffles he stayed quiet, enjoying their reunion despite the fact some of the bolder inmates in other cells had begun jeering at them in obscene tones. Apoch ignored them, trailing his fingertips through her mussed hair gently.
The steady pulse of his heart and woosh of his breath against her ear she was resting on lulled her into a light sleep, jerking awake when someone banged sharply against the bars.
Apoch eased her out of his lap and rose when they unlocked the gate, casually placing himself between the guards and his mate. Iscah smoothed out the rough linen shirt someone had been kind enough to dress her in, glancing down at the skirts of grey silk that was stiff with splatters of dried blood.
The guards snarled a order to him in orcish an he nodded in response, glancing down to Iscah and jerking his head in their direction.
Their escort lead them through the hallways cramped even by the humans standards, the cells a veritable maze. Iscah was shocked that the troll had even been able to find her in the labyrinth. They finally reached a stairwell, ascending out of the overwhelming odor of humans pressed in cramped, filthy quarters and into the fresh arid heat of the desert. She covered her eyes as they stepped out into the piercing daylight, the troll's shadow blocking out the sun as she caught the sound of murmurs.
Peeping her eyes open there was a crowd waiting for them outside the prison, a hushed silence falling over them at the sight of the two before an orc bellowed furiously, the mob erupting into screams and jeers.
Someone threw a rock and Apoch caught it deftly, launching it back at the offender with enough speed to knock the Tauren out cold. If it was any other situation Iscah might have laughed at the comic way the warrior's head thumped back on impact before the rest of his rigid body followed, but the retaliation only seemed to feed the crowd's rage.
A female orc shoved past the guards with murder in her eyes for the rogue, but the sentinels beat her back with their blunt maces less than gently. More guards rushed out from the prison behind them, mayhem ensuing as the mob turned on their own.
Apoch pushed Iscah back down the stairs, her attention shifting to his hand when she glimpsed the faintest luminescent glow, Jin'ral's dagger forming in his grasp out of nothingness though he kept it out of sight pressed against the back of his leg. Iscah stared in surprise at the weapon before flinching as a rotten tomato exploded on the flagstone nearby, spraying her with bits of fetid vegetable bits.
"THAT'S ENOUGH!"
The cacophony died instantly under the powerful, demanding voice, crowds parting as an orc dressed in wickedly spiked plate armor approached the center of the debacle. Iscah heard Apoch take a short, nervous breath, his defensive crouch lowering more in an almost submissive posture. The orc's fierce glare went from the crowds to the troll before finally resting on her. The mage could feel her limbs run cold under the weight of his gaze, Apoch frozen in place until the warrior motioned for them to follow.
He pulled her up by the elbow with the same hand moments before had been holding the dagger, placing her ahead of himself as they followed the towering figure down the wide road that had been carved into the ledge. Horde pressed at them from both sides, and Iscah took the chance to study the other trolls gawking at the sidelines.
If she had thought Apoch had been tall, she was mistaken. He was easily a foot shorter than most of the ones she was glimpsing, though all their heights varied to some degree. His tusks were also smaller, as if underdeveloped. It occurred to her in that moment both might have been stunted when he was younger due to malnutrition or lack of sleep. When she realized what she was thinking about instead of what was going to happen to them she exhaled a sardonic, muted laugh.
The road became narrow as it wound into the canyon, fiery walls rising around them like a natural-made cathedral. There were less bystanders here simply because of room; very few could get out of the way for their guide's impressive form. The path sloped down and curved, opening up again though Apoch stayed behind her just in case someone decided to attack.
When the passage-way opened up into a secondary courtyard Iscah stopped, staring at a massive baobab tree that had died and been painted and decorated to resemble a dragonkin. Apoch nudged her and she caught up with their escort when he stepped into a building built into the sandstone. Even without military experience, she could tell this was some sort of headquarters. Hushed conversations of officials died as all eyes turned to the two, the human lowering her gaze with embarrassment at being paraded like a spectacle.
When they entered the chamber of Thrall she couldn't help but look around, taking in the room decorated with spartan furniture wrought of simple materials and the guards that were just as still as the furnishings. Her scan ended with Thrall as the other orc stepped up on the dais to stand next to the crude throne, the orc of legend meeting her gaze with a gentleness she hadn't expected from him.
"Welcome little hero." Iscah couldn't believe the sound of his voice. If Apoch's was deep, this was endless. It was the sound of the earth shifting and raging rivers. It held the promise of the elements eagerness to rise to its call. It held power. "I'm sorry your accommodations weren't better suited for you, but we thought it the safest place."
"It was fine," she murmured, shifting uneasily before remembering her manners and curtsying to him clumsily. The corners of his eyes crinkled in a smile though the orc beside him made a disgusted sound.
"You've met Varok Saurfang," he continued, motioning to the orc who had mastered his face to a deep scowl. "I'm sure you remember Vol'jin, as well."
When she shifted her attention to the Shadow Hunter she felt her heart stutter, the troll not even bothering to mask his hostility.
"Spirits be with you, Vol'jin," Apoch murmured, bowing gracefully towards his leader. Vol'jin's lip curled in contempt as he looked to his tribesman, though the rogue kept his eyes downcast. Iscah glanced to her mate, noting the light was flickering off sweat on his skin.
"It seems we have a problem," Thrall stated, leaning forward slightly and folding his palms together as he rested them on his thighs. "It's not everyday a human comes walking into my city and save it. I could send you back to your people I suppose," he trailed off, watching her eyes grow wide in terror at the prospect. "Or I could keep you here as an honored guest. I have need of individuals as special as you, as brave as you are."
"I-.. I wasn't brave, Sir. I had baited Jin'ral to come here, had hoped-"
"I know, Iscah. The spirits told me. You could not have done it by yourself, just like I could not have either. It was quite clever of you."
She looked down bashfully, murmuring a thank you and wishing she could somehow vanish.
"Both of you can help me in wa-"
"Hold on dere, Trall." Vol'jin interrupted, stepping forward. Beside her Apoch became stone still. "De human be your realm, but de troll is under my rule. What he do, it treacherous, mon." His eyes slid to the rogue, drawing out the conviction in his word. "Unforgeevable."
"He is still a member of the Horde, Vol'jin."
"But 'is blood be Darkspear."
Thrall leaned back in his throne. "What sentence would you pass on him?"
"Death."
"No!" Iscah shrieked, Apoch grabbing her before she could throw herself at the Shadow Hunter. "He is good troll, honorable! Why kill?"
"You taught this alliance whore Zandali?" Vol'jin bellowed, switching to his native tongue as well.
"She is my wife," Apoch snarled back despite his apprehension, regretting it instantly when he saw the bloodlust rise in his leaders eyes.
Vol'jin roared in fury, snagging the double-bladed glaive off his back and lunging for the two. Iscah snaked out of her mate's grasp, twisting so that she was standing in front of Apoch to block the hunter's attack with her own body. He screamed, voice cracking in terror as the glaive swept wide and descended for his mage.
Iscah squeezed her eyes shut, preparing for the worst though behind her she felt the strike reverberate against Apoch, the clang of metal on something organic stopping the attack. Vol'jin's eyes were wide in disbelief as he stepped back, staring at the edge of his weapon; there was a chunk missing, a crack at the base cutting across the edge perpendicular all the way to the other side. Apoch shoved Iscah forcefully to the ground, cowering over her and keeping the bone blade out and arched over her form defensively.
"No way mon, I saw Trall destroy dat ting."
"Now do you see why I said 'both' initially, Vol'jin?"
"Dat weapon be bad mojo, War Chief. Very dangerous Loa locked up in dere."
"I control it now," Apoch replied, staying in Zandali so that Iscah could understand. He crushed the blade in his hand, spreading his palm open for them to see it empty before flicking his wrist, the blade whipping back into existence with a flash of red from the swinging tail of hair.
"It's part of him now," Thrall explained. "A powerful spirit bound to a mortal. It has it's implications, large ones at that for us."
Vol'jin considered what his War Chief was offering, re-sheathing his glaive after glancing at the fissure angrily. "He won't keel dem now dat he's ruttin' with one of dere females. Will you, Apoch?"
Apoch hesitated, standing up slowly when he surmized the danger had passed. "I just want to take my wife somewhere safe and raise our child. We will live as outcasts, far away to be forgotten by everyone-"
Thrall shook his head, Apoch's words trailing off. "That will not do. Iscah." The girl looked between the troll's legs to the War Chief, biting her lower lip nervously.
"Will you forsake your people? Will you swear your life to the Horde, to me?"
"Sir, I did that already when I accepted Apoch as my husband."
Thrall smiled slightly, gesturing her to rise. "You swore yourself to our High Warlord, not to his War Chief. I would ask that of you now."
She looked to Apoch for an answer, but he wore a helpless look on his face. The troll knew the orc had him at a loss. If she didn't swear herself to him then she would be killed. But to do it would mean to be in the service of Thrall. There would be no peace for them. Taking a deep breath she stepped away from Apoch and went to kneel before the throne.
"Lok'tar ogar!"
"Victory, or death," Apoch translated somberly as she repeated the words, his voice quiet enough not to echo in the room. "I give my flesh and blood freely to the War Chief, I am the instrument of his desire, the weapon at his command. From this moment on, I live and die for the Horde."
She heard Thrall rise, his steps clinking the jet black plate armor together before he came to a halt before her. She felt his hand on her shoulder, heavy and light at the same time.
"Rise Iscah. You and your mate will take residency in my city in the Valley of Honor. He will teach you orcish, and you will teach him your tongue. When your child is born you will return to me to be the Voice of Your People. The voice of the Horde."
The mage bowed low and Thrall let his hand fall away at the gesture, smiling to her when she looked back up to him before returning to her mate. Apoch collapsed to his knees, touching his forehead to the ground.
"Thank you," he whispered, turning and touching his forehead in Vol'jin's direciton as well. The hunter watched quietly, his facial expressions revealing his doubts on Thrall's decision. "Thank you both."
"Learn well, High Warlord. Your task will not be an easy one."
Apoch nodded, rising smoothly before taking Iscah's hand and walking back out. They passed into the sunlight of midday and he stopped, straightening his back and stretching as he turned his head up to into the warm rays appreciatively.
"I didn't think we'd come out alive."
Iscah didn't respond, face dark with her thoughts before turning indigo hues to him. "I was very scared."
"You did it, you saved us both and found us a home," he replied, cupping her cheek in his hands before laughing softly at the irony. "I thought I was going to be the one to find us a place to live."
His relief was infectious and she returned his smile, eyes closing as he leaned down to nuzzle her gently.
Everything was going to be alright.