The human, apparently a man, appraised the orc carefully. His hands remaining near his weapon. Danya didn't know if he could survive a battle against anything in his weakened state let alone one of the Alliance. No, it would be better to see why this human had saved him especially with the bloodshed between their kinds. The man's shield carried the symbol of the human island to the East, Theramore. There had been a peace between the Horde and that island before old hatreds destroyed most of what was gained.
He had blonde hair from what could be seen below his head gear though he couldn't tell how long it was as that was obscured by a large mail helmet, also of Theramore make. His armor seemed to have once been a shining testament to the humans' strange attraction to appearance but was now beaten and worn. Clearly caring for appearance didn't extend to him. His skin, from what the orc could see, was a light pink tone as most humans' were.
Also, the man appeared to lack the facial hair most humans were so fond of having. His eyes were a deep, piercing blue, and the warrior found himself unable to look into them for long. His sword seemed different however, the hilt appeared to made of gold and his shield also looked to be made of the dwarves' favorite metal, mithril. They were in good condition, a sharp contrast to his battered armor. No normal human soldier would be given such valuable equipment.
The human spoke several words, which to the orc sounded something akin to "Loke a cardun bah'heatha." The orc warrior looked at him quizzically. Did he really expect him to know Common?
However the Theramorian didn't look surprised by Danya's reaction at all, rather he seemed to expect it. Appearing to think for a moment, the human spoke again, "You're welcome."
Danya gaped, "You know orcish?" Any member of the Alliance knowing orcish was a surprise, and not necessarily a good one. Speaking different languages made spying nearly impossible for either side. A fact the orcs were fine with, spying and sabotage were weak traits it was better to win with dignity and honor by defeating the enemy with skill and strength in battle. The humans didn't think so however.
"Some, trollish, taurahe, even a little of the Forsaken's gutterspeak. I would have thought the fact I was from Theramore Isle would give away that I knew at least a little, since we are so close to Horde territory. However I do know more than most would, I was sent here by Lady Proudmoore herself to learn what I could." The human replied.
"So you're a spy?" Danya asked heatedly, readying his axe.
"You could say that though I wasn't sent to spy on the Horde, if that's what you're thinking. Rather there have been strange occurrences lately, the Mirefin Murlocs in Dustwallow Marsh have become more aggressive, even attacking our sentry towers. Adventurers have claimed that gnolls, centaur, even harpies have also begun strong and frequent attacks on both Horde and Alliance bases."
"Why should I believe you? I don't even know your name human."
"Mine is Jethand, though my friends call me Jeth. As I recall you never told me yours either did you?"
"My name is Danya, and I'm no friend of yours Jethand."
Jethand's expression turned momentarily to frustration, then he sighed. "Fair enough, it's not as if I consider you much of one either. But we should go, before more of those light blasted Kolkar come to find out what's going on." Seeing Danya's clear refusal to follow him anywhere he continued. "Look, you can either trust me or face more of them." he said, pointing to the carcasses.
"I don't trust you human, but I will follow you. I know I could at least defeat you." Danya said. Jeth glared at him, but sighed and muttered something under his breath before quietly heading off toward the South East.
The journey was slow and felt even slower through the uneasy silence between the two. Jeth had long since given up on any hope of conversation with the orc, he clearly wasn't interested in talking. The dry, trackless plains of The Barrens seemed to go on forever before them. However the green skinned warrior noted that the Theramorian was identifying landmarks. Dead trees, strange looking rocks, and various other things all passed warily under his eye. He clearly knew where he was going.
After what felt like hours, Jethand turned to Danya. "Well, we're almost to my camp. Do you trust me enough to believe I won't try and kill you?"
"No, I just don't intend to give you the chance to."
Shaking his head, the human warrior led on. Soon it was clear there was indeed a camp, the remnants of a long dead fire were surrounded by several bedrolls. The orc wondered why there were two bedrolls, unless of course the human wasn't alone. Turning to ask Jeth if he had an ally his suspicions were confirmed when he felt the cool metal of a dagger touching his throat.
"Who's this Jeth? A friend of yours?" Danya recognized the voice, or at least what it must have come from. It was a woman, that was obvious, and it didn't sound like a human. Gnomes and Dwarves weren't tall enough, and it didn't sound like one of them either, that left a night elf. A hint of overconfidence played into her voice. She was speaking in orcish so he could hear what they planned to do with him. From the way she snuck up on him without a sound he guessed her to be a rogue.
"He's no friend of mine, but I don't think we should kill him. He didn't try to kill me which I find surprising for an orc. Perhaps he would prove useful in some way. Danya do you have any skills that would be useful?"
"I'm not interested in helping two like you, especially if you enjoy manipulation. You're just like a human, you rely on cheap tricks to accomplish your goals rather than winning through your own strength." Danya said with menace creeping into his voice.
"I'm sorry you feel that way, perhaps we should just let him go though he could tell others of us, and they may not be so friendly. It seems you can either help us or die, the choice is yours orc." Jethand said.
"I choose death, but I demand one of honor, not some worthless murder like your friend here has planned. Why didn't you tell me you weren't alone Jeth, did you intend to capture me like this?"
"You must be a fool to believe I would enter into your people's territory alone. There isn't time for a death in battle Danya and for that I am truly sorry." The Theramorian said quietly.
"Too bad, I wanted to see how you'd fight warrior." The voice behind him said.
Danya tensed. Dying without honor, having his throat cut and being left to die wasn't a death he wanted. Everything he had fought for, had gained with his own blood, was about to come to an end at the blade of a rogue without any glorious battle to mark him. A clear thunk! was heard and the green skinned warrior felt the weight against him fall forward and then pulled back.
A thickly accented voice spoke up, "No, chou be da fool humon, thinkin' chou could come in our land and not get inta a fight."
The clear sound of metal ringing was heard as Jethand drew his sword. Danya noticed it carried a blue tint, it clearly carried powerful enchantments. Suddenly a seemingly ordinary cat appeared behind him, yet he saw it had long horns growing out of its head. It transformed into a tauren and he brought his staff down at the bottom of the Theramorian's helmet at the neck where no armor was present.
"I would advise dropping your weapon, human."
Jeth complied almost immediately, his sword dropping to the ground directly in front of him. Surprise was written across his features.
"I got da otha one Randalar. She be a pretty elf too." The troll said and grinned maliciously.
"Are you all right friend?" The large tauren, apparently Randalar, asked in a surprisingly kind voice for his large size.
"Fine. Though they intended to kill me." Danya said simply.
"Why don't we return da favor den mon?" The troll asked darkly. His right arm was tightly held against the night elf's throat, a steel mace in his other.
"No, we shall take them to the Crossroads. Those in charge may decide their fate." The tauren druid said firmly, it was clear he would not hear an argument.
"Yes, and maybe why they were spying on us as well." Danya said.
"For the last time Danya, we weren't spying on you." Jethand said pleadingly.
"Don't bother Jethand, these savages don't understand the concept of mercy." The night elf said, voice filled with hatred.
"Arienna, the last thing we need is for the tauren to change his mind about sparing us." The human warrior says to his companion. "What is your name tauren? And you troll?" He asks turning to each in turn.
"My name be Rojomin human. Also a mighty shaman." The troll behind Arienna said.
"And mine is Randalar. What is yours human? It seems your companion is Arienna, and the orc is Danya."
"I am Jethand. A warrior sent by Theramore to search for any suspicious acts by the smarter of the native races in The Barrens. Lately many have been seen attacking both Alliance and Horde outposts. This is Arienna, she agreed to aid me in my travels."
"Hmm, we shall see if your claims are true once we reach the Crossroads. As our factions are currently at peace, I am certain you won't be judged unfairly." Randalar said.
He was large, though that was to be expected of a tauren. His two black horns met in the middle and extended to either side straight out ending in sharp points. His fur was a dark brown, almost to the point of being black. Green eyes struck out in a sharp contrast. Black hair fell back along his neck and down to between his shoulders. He was dressed in leather leggings and a vest, with fur-lined boots. Randalar didn't appear to be wearing anything else. The staff turned out to be just a wooden staff still held tightly against Jeth's throat.
Rojomin was lanky like most trolls though he was just as muscled as well. His skin was blue and red hair grew all along the top of his head, back to just below his pointed ears and hanging over his eyes and across most of his forehead in the front. The shaman's clever orbs were a dark brown. He wore quite a bit more than Randalar and it was also leather. The troll wore leggings, a vest, three fingered gloves, specially tailored boots, bracers, and a brown cloak. His mace was blunt and made of steel with a wooden handle. There was also a shield strapped to his back but Danya couldn't see much of it.
Similar to the rest of his brethren Rojomin was very tall, even though he had adopted the troll trait of slouching even when standing. He was still easily as tall as Arienna. When trolls rose to their full height they were just as tall as the mighty tauren, something few others races could reach.
"Fair? Our factions are on the brink of war. I doubt it will be fair at all." Arienna spat.
No one noticed it still hadn't rained despite the heavy darks clouds hanging lazily in the sky. They were each caught up in their own problems at the moment, being captured or the ones capturing. Randalar removed rope from a pack and bound the human's hands, passing the sword and shield to Danya. He then took the daggers from Arienna and tied her hands together as well.
"We will try our best to make it fair on you as you have done nothing wrong. Though attempting to kill a member of the Horde will not be looked upon well." The kindly druid said.
Arienna merely remained silent looking as if all hope for her was lost. Danya thought it was very possible it was. Her green hair hung behind her back loosely, swaying whenever she moved. Her skin was a dark pink color, just a shade lighter than purple. She wore the black leather of a rogue with a hooded cloak dark as a starless night, currently pulled down. Even her current position, being held by the tall troll behind her, failed to detract from her noble air or beauty. At least for a night elf he assumed she was considered attractive though he preferred his own kind.
"C'mon, if we hurry, we can reach da Crossroads before it gets too late in da night." Rojomin said, his thick accent clear.
The unlikely group silently set off towards the North in the direction of the Crossroads. As the hours slipped by, Danya learned more about Randalar and Rojomin, the two who had come to his aid. They had come to know each other through fighting the Razormane. Soon they became friends, especially since their different paths, druidism and shamanism were very similar. Jethand and Arienna, to their credit, hadn't made any true attempts at escape. However, the three members of the Horde agreed that it was only a matter of time before they did.
As the light dimmed even further, it was clear the sun was setting. Having traveled for some distance all agreed it would be best to rest. Setting up a crude camp with the supplies from both the Alliance camp and their own packs they rested and cooked a meal.
"Would any of you care for any water, I found it in an oasis guarded by Kolkar?" Danya asked as he reached for one of his canteens.
"An oasis?" Randalar paused as if in deep thought, "Guarded by Kolkar? May I have some Danya?"
"Yes it was guarded by those pathetic centaur, why?" Danya asked as he handed the canteen to him.
The druid sniffed the canteen with his large nose, lacking the usual ring, and took a drink. "I sense strange energies in this, powerful energies. Tonga Runetotem will wish to know of this, he is interested in these oases. Kolkar guarding any oasis is a bad sign. Whatever has been put into these waters rejuvenates and strengthens, the centaur could become much more dangerous with it."
"Danya is right, da Kolkar are weak, we can take dem easy." The shaman Rojomin put in.
While the Horde members spoke, Jethand whispered to Arienna in Common. "When we near the orc outpost we'll have the best opportunity to escape. Once in sight of it, they'll drop their guard thinking we can't possibly get away. However, we may have to leave our weapons, but I'd rather lose those than our lives, wouldn't you?"
Arienna nodded, not daring to speak with the troll's large ears possibly hearing anything she said. They ate quietly, having been given food and water. Even bound as their arms were the two could still probably escape watch and supplies wouldn't be a problem since they could steal them or get replacements from Ratchet if they had to.
After resting for nearly an hour they continued on in the darkness, lighting a torch to help them see in the near pitch black of the clouded night. Only the moon penetrated the clouds, and Arienna thanked Elune for her guiding light. She alone could see well in the darkness, her glowing eyes taking in all around her. If it was dark, slipping away would be that much easier.
Hours passed uneventfully, and still it did not rain. Randalar expressed concern, worried that the lack of rain with such heavy clouds was not a good sign. Rojomin shrugged it off believing that nothing was wrong with the clouds and that it just wasn't time for rain. However that did little to help ease the druid's concerns.
Soon, the road appeared more well traveled and bright lights were seen coming from the north. Arienna and Jethand exchanged worried glances. If they had that much light at the outpost there was little chance of them slipping away. Believing themselves condemned to death the two followed along towards the light.
However Danya, Randalar, and Rojomin were excited to be so near a place of shelter. Especially one as large and powerful as the Crossroads was. Finally, after such a long day, the orc warrior was relieved at the chance to rest on the soft mattresses of the inn. While unusually well lit he believed it was just because of the darker than average night.
The five reached the top of the last hill before the orc outpost and stopped cold. All plans of escape were temporarily swept from the captives' minds at what they saw. Smoke was pouring upwards from the Crossroads originally masked against the darkness of the clouds. Now they knew why it had seemed so bright.
The Crossroads was burning.
If you remember in the prologue, I said 3 people would be able to stop the khan, but here we already have 5. I'm evil that way.