Chapter Two
In the event, Phage found himself facing a huntress with an honor guard of two archers. Both lavender-skinned elves kept arrows nocked to their bows as their leader reined up under Phage's tree. She rode some kind of large feline, but this one looked more like a native of the Barrens than the few night elf mounts Phage had seen. It was rangy, long-legged, and most noticeably, tan in color rather than black.
"Are you Phage Marrowice?" she asked without preamble.
Phage bowed slightly. "How may I serve?"
"I am the Huntress Viri Starwater. My camp is on the other side of the ridge," she said. "You will understand if I am not more specific."
Night Elves, he thought wearily. They still think being ancient makes you all-knowing. That hasn't changed, at least.
"Nor need you be," Phage said dryly. "One of my shades spotted your camp some days ago." His only shade, at the moment, but there was no need to mention that.
"Then perhaps you know why I am here," Huntress Starwater said. "We are forced to overlook certain activities of the Horde given that they presently outnumber us, but the same is not true of – what is that?"
"What?" Phage asked.
The Huntress turned in her saddle to watch a tall skeleton stalk past. It seemed to be clad in rags, and its bones were gray and seamed with cracks. As it went it clanked its jaw up and down, seemingly speaking to itself in a language all its own. A purple light glowed from the eye sockets and ribcage, and a ragged but distinctly feminine whisper could occasionally be heard emanating from it.
"Oh. We've been using skeletons to do some of our simpler work. They stand the heat better than the ghouls do."
"I have seen skeletons summoned by the Scourge's necromancers," the Huntress said. "That did not resemble them."
Phage shrugged, insofar as that was possible. "We found some old human graves, probably from an exploration of the continent some generations ago. That one – I've been calling him Gray, it seems to fit – is rather intelligent for a skeleton. He can even speak, when he wishes. One of my banshees was quite taken with him. They followed each other around for a couple of weeks, and then she moved right in."
"Into - ?"
"Into Gray, as near as we can tell," Phage said. "But that's not what you came to speak about. Something about the trees, wasn't it?"
"Yes." The Huntress turned back to Phage, an expression of grim purpose settling on her attenuated features. "You have no rights here, and if you continue to slaughter the original inhabitants of this land, we will take steps."
Phage ran down the list of creatures he had slaughtered since the camp was established. "You mean the harpies?"
"No. Their activities are of no consequence to us."
"Or the centaurs? We did kill a fair number of those when we moved in here."
"No," Starwater said impatiently. "It is not the centaurs to whom I refer."
"Is it the razormanes, then? Because they've been attacking us since we got here and I don't see any way to - "
"I speak of the trees, Lich," Starwater snapped. "They were here long before any other living thing occupied Kalimdor. I would know. I was here."
"I see." Well, he'd expected this, hadn't he? "We have to have lumber, Huntress. Most of our buildings, as you can see, are entirely stone. But, like yourselves, we will from time to time need some kind of product that cannot be dug out of the ground."
"Night elves do not cut trees," the Huntress said flatly.
"You don't have to. You've got those little glowing things that give your camp's position away from the air at night. What are those, anyway?"
"The wisps are the spirits of our ancestors," Viri Starwater said. "They perform all of our building without the need for killing the ancients who grow here."
Phage considered this for a moment. "Your ancestors do all your manual labor? Is this some strange reversal of the Orcish religion? I suppose it would be the other way around, given that you're immortal. Or did you give that up?"
Starwater stared at him in silence for a moment. Phage looked back. He would win a staring contest against a Night Elf every time. It helped that he lacked eyelids and therefore could not, technically, blink.
"Never mind that," she said at last. "I am not entirely sure myself whether or not I am aging. And as for the wisps… Before enemies came here once again, it took a particularly stupid Night Elf to even become an ancestor. Otherwise, most of them would be my own age by now."
"Hm," Phage said. "Would you consider letting us borrow one or two of these… subnormal ancestors of yours? We would then have no need to cut any more trees. I would see that they are treated well. We've got plenty of spirits around here, the Lich King knows."
As if to illustrate this point, a banshee coasted past them, barely visible in the bright sun. The Huntress narrowed her eyes as if in thought.
"We could simply wipe out your settlement," she said. "I am certain the Orcs would thank us for it."
"Are you sure?" Phage said. "My scouts inform me that you presently have nothing or no one in your camp who can fly. I can assure you that you will encounter considerable difficulty attacking us otherwise."
"He is telling the truth, Mistress," one of the archers spoke up. "This place would not be easily taken."
"Hm," Starwater said in turn. "I will give your proposal some consideration, Lord Marrowice."
"Just Phage," Phage said. "Good day, Huntress Starwater."