((This story, although using characters I've ascribed personalities to, is copyright Blizzard Entertainment 2005, please don't sue and all that jazz.

This story is rated PG... er... T(?) for minor swearing and violence and such.))

Swinging Chickens
A World of Warcraft fanfic
By Kristin Renee Taylor

Part Six -

Darkness.

She fell through endless night, surrounded by a sea of blackness.

Fragments of light. Snatches of memory. A sound. Her name.

"Liathano?"

Her lips moved silently: "Tobias."

He sidestepped her clumsy thrust. Deflected her backhand with a contemptuous flick of his wrist. As she stumbled, off-balance, his foot kicked out, catching her in the back of a knee. She tumbled to the ground, catching herself on hands and knees before she fell face-first into the mud.

He circled her, the point of his sword describing small ellipses in the air over her head. He sighed, deeply and with disappointment. "I taught you better than this, Liathano."

Rain had plastered her clothing and hair to her body, soaked through the bandage wrapped around her right thigh. She glared down at the mud beneath her and said nothing.

Tobias' boots squelched as he paced around her. "I know what you're thinking, and you're wrong. This isn't my fault."

Rainwater mixed with the tears on her face. "You killed Matthews."

"No," Tobias said calmly. "I did not. One of my men did, and, for that he was summarily punished." His voice took a sharper tone of disapproval. "By you, I might add." He paused. "You've gotten your revenge. No need to turn this into a meaningless and pointless vendetta."

Rage flared through her, tensing her body. "Meaningless? Pointless!" She pushed herself into a crouch, glaring balefully up at him. "You killed my brother! You destroyed everything I've cared about! I HATE YOU!" She lunged.

He slammed her down effortlessly, knocking her flat on her back. The heel of his boot came down on her injured thigh. She shrieked in agony, her screams echoing throughout the forest.

He crouched over her as she curled up, sobbing, hands grasping her thigh. The arrow-wound had reopened; crimson saturated the muddy linen bandage. "Let's not do this, little sister," Tobias said in that infuriatingly calm voice.

She rolled, her fist flying out towards his face. "You are not my brother!"

He caught her wrist with his free hand. The other plunged his sword into the mud by her head. Sternly, "Stop this, Liathano, before you get seriously hurt."

"I won't." She heaved against him, breathing ragged from pain and rage and heavy grief. Her eyes were two narrowed points of fury. "I won't rest until I've killed you."

He sighed again. "Well, we can't have that, can we?" His hand tightened on her wrist. "Goodbye, little sister." And with that, he broke her arm.

Liathano bolted upright, a scream strangling her throat. Hot pain flared in her right arm and leg. She curled up on her side, knees drawn tight against her chest, breathing coming in ragged sobs.

Eventually, reality reasserted itself. She was not alone in a forest, slowly bleeding to death. Matthews, her brother, was dead, and had been for four and a half years now. Tobias was still alive.

Damn.

She was on a pallet on the floor of an otherwise empty room. Sunlight streamed in through a window over her head. A hearth in the wall lay dead, scattered with cold ashes. Her clothes were gone; she wore a simple white shift. Her dark blonde hair hung loosely about her shoulders. Sitting up again, she twitched the covers aside and examined herself.

The old scar was still there, a patch of lighter skin on her right thigh just beneath her hip. Her right arm was unmarked, but the phantom pain flared again as she ran her fingers along her forearm.

"You're finally awake?"

Liathano blinked, coming back to the present. She lifted her head, dropping her hands. Dave the Bard smiled sheepishly, his fair complexion going a little red. He sported an armful of blankets in his arms and a bandage around his temples. Liathano blushed herself (thankfully not too noticeable thanks to her dusky skin) upon remembering just how short that shift was. She pulled the blanket back up, covering herself again.

"What-" Her voice was a hoarse rasp. She coughed and tried again, with slightly better results. "What happened?"

Immediately Dave's eyes lit up (What sane bard could pass up the chance to tell a story?) and he hunkered down by her pallet to regale her with tales of her own heroics.

He had seen the whole thing. Ignoring Liathano's orders (and Anri's implicit threat), he'd snuck upstairs to watch Fizzlethork clean out the few undead that had tried to enter the kitchen. The little goblin had gone a long way towards proving why he'd been hired as a bouncer; he had taken out undead left and right, simply crushing them into submission with his black mace. When Fizzlethork had cleared out the kitchen and charged into the commons, Dave had oh so discreetly followed. He was just in time to see Lia get taken down by the undead. Fizzlethork had rushed in and-

"I know about that part," Lia said, lifting a hand to stop the bard. "What happened afterwards?"

Dave looked a little peeved at her interruption. "Yes... Afterwards..." He cleared his throat.

Lia and Anri had destroyed the Infernal. With both the demon elemental and the warlock binding it gone, the remnants of the Scourge force had quickly fled. Victory had seemed short lived, however. Fizzlethork had been buried under debris from the demolished Tavern. The compact humanoid had lived, but his body had been severely burned from flaming wreckage. Anri had broken her right arm and shoulder in three places. Maggie, Tammie, and the hiding children had escaped the tavern unscathed, but Gorthad had been bitten by a few gargoyles; a deep cut had laid his thigh open almost to the bone.

And then there was Liathano.

"You took a chunk of that thing right into your throat. We all thought you weren't going to make it, but that girl of Anri's, Alexy... turns out she was a priestess-in-training. She did what she could for you and the others, but..." Dave trailed off, looking uncomfortable.

Liathano touched her throat. Her fingers brushed against a narrow band of skin along her windpipe, smoother than the rest of her throat and numb to the touch. A scar.

She looked at Dave. "...my voice..?"

He spread his hands and looked at her helplessly.

Lia let her hand drop limply into her lap. "Well... That's... upsetting." Hard to tell now if the hoarseness in her voice was from the injury or emotion. She faked a smile anyway. "I'm glad you and the others are all right."

Dave wasn't fooled, and they both knew it. He didn't call her on it, though. He said, "Anyway, that was a couple of days ago. You've been in and out of it for most of that time. Gorthad's got your sword. He's outside if you want to talk to him..." He stood. "I should probably go. Maggie wanted these blankets hours ago." He backed away.

When he was gone, Lia stretched back out in her pallet, staring up at the rafters. In time, she fell asleep again.

She didn't dream.

She woke up sometime later, feeling groggy and disoriented. She had slept long enough for night to fall; starlight shone in through the window. A fire had been built in the hearth.

The young woman, Alexy, sat against one wall close to Liathano's pallet, deep asleep. A blanket partially covered her.

"She tried t' heal ya again, y'know."

Lia sat up as Anri stepped out of the shadows.

The thief had changed. Lines of exhaustion marked her face and dulled her eyes. A thin swath of her hair along her left temple had gone white. She looked worried.

Anri bent by the hearth, stirring the fire up a bit. Then she straightened and, arms folded, turned a troubled frown on the sleeping priestess. "I told 'er not t', but she didn't listen. It ain't 'er fault she can't do nothin' about yer voice. She ain't a full-fledged priestess. But she kept tryin'." Anri huffed a sigh. "And now lookit 'er. Wiped 'erself out."

Lia watched her as the thief crouched by Alexy and arranged the blanket on the girl. She said, voice made quieter by its hoarseness, "She means a lot to you."

Anri snorted and sat against the wall, next to Alexy. "She's too good of a kid t' be hangin' 'round me. Soon as I can, I'm ditchin' 'er somewhere safe." The girl mumbled in her sleep, sliding closer to Anri, her head resting on the thief's shoulder. Anri adjusted her position to make them more comfortable without even seeming aware she was doing so.

Lia fought down a smirk. Barely. She said, "Why don't you take her home, then?"

Anri's glare prompted a laugh from Liathano. "And spend hours listenin' to the fam' make condescendin' remarks?" The fake accent dropped from her voice as she spoke in the haughty, aristocratic tone she had grown up with. "'Your behavior reflects badly upon the Potavanis, Anri. When are you going to stop being selfish and outgrow this childish phase, Anri? Your brother is a very respected mage, Anri, why can't you be more like him? It would be ever so nice if you gave up your individuality and became a prim, proper woman of the court, Anri.'" Anri snorted again, scornfully. "Fuck that crap. I didn't run away just to go begging for help later on. I've grown rather attached to being independent.

"Which is why we're leaving in the morning." Anri grinned at Liathano, scratching her hair. "Rider came in. Big group of pallys'll be 'ere in t' mornin'."

"A little late, aren't they? I mean we've already dealt with-" Lia stopped, and her eyes narrowed on Anri's face.

Anri lifted her hands, an innocent grin on her face and mischief blazing in her eyes. "Weren't me, I swear."

Liathano sighed, shaking her head. "And people say trouble follows me everywhere I go..." She eyed Anri. "Are you going to give me back my money before you run off with your tail between your legs?"

An expression flickered across Anri's face, quickly hidden. Blandly, "I dunno what yer talkin' about."

"My money. You stole it from me before all this mess started." Anri stared at her. "In the Tavern? You know, a few nights ago?" Anri's gaze remained blank, and Liathano narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "I know you remember."

"Oh, ya mean this?" Anri said, her lips quirking up in a malicious smile full of teeth. From inside her shirt she withdrew a small pouch that jingled as the coins within shifted.

"Yes," Lia huffed. "That." She reached out to grab the sack.

Anri pulled it out of reach. She wagged a finger at Lia. "Finders keepers."

"You didn't find that money! You stole it! From me!"

Anri lifted an eyebrow cooly. She detached herself from Alexy and stood, staring down at Liathano. "Ya callin' me a thief?"

"Give me my money!" She lunged at Anri. They hit the floor together, struggling over the sack of coins. Anri slipped free of Lia's grasp and crouched a short distance away. She grinned. "Y'know, ya really need t' relax. Yer a recoverin' gimp and all."

"You won't call me gimped when I kick your ass!'" Liathano roared. She charged the thief. Anri dodged nimbly and, laughing, sprinted outside, the furious warrior on her heels. Soon, the sounds of their brawl had woken everyone in the area.

Yep. It was just another night at the Swinging Chicken...