This is it, the finale. Play the trumpets I'm done. Anyone who's been reading all along, please leave a review. To Kyn, Absence, Wraithsoldier, Lorok, Muse, and any one else. Thank you. If you have any questions, drop a review and I'll try and send you an e-mail. Alright, I'm talking too much. Enjoy: the Mission, final chapter. -Wolf. :)

Chapter 16

Tyrr awakened with a headache that throbbed in her skull. No, that didn't adequately describe the pain she felt. It felt as though her jaw had been broken. If the tauren had hit her any harder, its likely her head would've been knocked clean off. It took a minute for her head to stop spinning. Blindly, she clawed for her dagger, but found no sheathe on her belt. "What?" she muttered out of instinct.

"Ye awake?" Aloos asked. He was standing over the wary elf protectively, cradling a loaded bow in his arms. It appeared he was scared, ready for a battle from some unforeseen enemy.

"What?" she said again. Slowly, Tyrr settled on the earth beneath her and looked up carefully at the troll. He lowered the bow, skimmed the surrounding forests, and kneeled down. "What happened?" she repeated.

"Taff didn't want either of us with him, mon. He knows he won't survive."

"What?"
"He told me to take ye as far as I could. I didn't want ta leave him, but… I'm sor.…" Tyrr pushed a clenched fist as hard as she could into Aloos's cheek. Her knuckles collided with his tusks, and a pain immediately rattled her arm. Never the less, dazing the troll gave her the chance to dart as fast her legs would take her through the forest. Then, in one fluent motion, she leapt into the air and changed her form to that of a speedy spotted cat. The troll gave chase, but was no match for the feline's speed.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

"We Forsaken are most appreciative of your efforts Madame Pantherfoot," said Sylvanas Windrunner, sitting on her elaborate throne; crafted of bones and carcasses.

"I am most appreciative as well, Dark Lady," Mab Pantherfoot smiled, bowing humbly.

"Yes. The cow in exchange for your flesh," the Dark Lady whispered. "As was the deal."

Mab brushed long, ebony lock from her face. How good it felt to touch her hair again, how warm she felt inside. No longer was she dependent on that damn cow to sustain her. She was alive. She was safe.

She coughed. She pushed a hand in front of her mouth as another wheeze ripped up through her lungs. "What the-" this time blood and bile clawed into her mouth. "What's happening?"

The Dark Lady began to laugh, so soft and aristocratically at first, but soon enough a sadistic cackle. "I gave you your flesh. I never said for how long."

"No," Mab whimpered. "No." The night elf pushed her way out of the throne room and ran through the halls of the Undercity. Her screams filled the caverns.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Even with my eyes closed, I know three are around me. I can smell them. One's pushing a blade through my neck. I take him first. With all my might I grab the hilt of the undead's sword and twist it around, impaling it through his chest. One behind me. He lifts an axe. I pull the sword from the undead's chest and spin, cutting through axe wielder's neck. The last tries to run. Another day I may of let him go. But I've been shot by one of my oldest friends in the world. The wounds in my chest are a testimony to how close the bullets came to my heart. I decide I'll take some of my anger out on him.

There are four bullets in my body. I've lost a lot of blood. It takes a lot of concentration just to stand. Any hope I had of surviving this is lost. I'm not goanna live through this night. I don't care. I'm goanna take Windrunner down with me.

Down a flight of stairs. Through a hall. The stench of death and rotting flesh grows with each step. There are a few guards still left in the Undercity. Most of them run at the sight of me. I'm in no mood to spare the ones stupid enough to stand and fight. With weak, strained muscles I burst through a wooden door and enter a large open room. And there, cradling her broken form, dragging her body weakly: is Mab. I still feel anger, but something stops me from crushing the bitch's head. She sees me, and starts to laugh. "I always did suck with guns."

I slowly shuffle to her side and look down at her pitiful, pathetic body. She's still beautiful, but any lust is lost to my rage. I want to kill her but something stops me. A burning question in my mind. "Why?"

"You're goanna kill me?" she whimpers.

I nod.

She laughs again. "Then I'll tell the truth."

"When did you start this, this betrayal?"

"Which betrayal are you talking about?" She takes a deep sigh, trying to suck breath into broken lungs. Her exhale is peppered with drips of blood. "When I was alive, I stayed with you under orders, not redemption. My superiors decided you may become useful one day. They wanted me to keep an eye on you, even manipulate you if I could.

And if you ever threatened the Alliance, I'd be there to kill you."

Another seizure of coughs and blood. She won't last long.

"Then, the unthinkable happened," she says. "I died. I died," she repeated, slower the second time. "But then I had an idea. As long as you sustained me, I wasn't dead, I still had a chance at some form of life. Maybe one day you'd even learn to bring back my flesh."

"You're a coward," I growl. "You are a damn cowardly bitch."

"Sticks and stones," she grins. "Can't hurt me much more now. Not like the Dark Lady."

"When did you come to aid her?"

"After Ratchet. One of her servants found me. Made me a deal. Your life, for my flesh. I didn't know if she'd honor her part of the deal, but it was a chance. A chance to live again."

I stand up, towering over the crippled thing. She tilts her head and closes her eyes. I lift one of the swords I carry over my head and bring it down…missing her head by an inch. She looks at the steel, then at me, a questioning look on her perfect little face.

"I know what its like to lose everything you love," I growl, my body quaking in anger. "Tyrr doesn't deserve to lose you again." I throw two plants down before her. I can't believe I'm doing this. "The white one is grave moss. If you have any sense of justice you'll take it and end your life quick. The vine is liferoot. There's a chance you'll make it through the night with that." I turn my back and set out to find Windrunner.

"Cow!" she screams, as she shoves the liferoot down her throat.

A few more hallways and a few more guards. Neither is a problem. The spirits tell me exactly where to go and the soldiers flee at my sight. The long hallway opens into a large, open room with a high ceiling and two occupants: the Dark Lady Sylvanas Windrunner and the dreadlord Varimathras.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Who's there," Mab Pantherfoot said wearily. Already she could feel the liferoot spreading through her body, healing her wounds, but still she was weak. She'd never been one for direct combat, preferring the misdirection to confrontation. Still, she wasn't about to lose her new life because of some idiot undead soldier who wandered upon her. Her legs were useless, but her arms still held strength. She lifted the sword in the ground and waited, her breath pumping out of her lungs. "Oh thank Eluna."

Slowly, Tyrr Pantherfoot slunk out of the shadows, gripping her sheathed dagger tight.

"Come my daughter, please help me."

"Is it true?" Tyrr asked, taking another step.

"What?" Mab asked, throwing her sword to her side.

"Did you betray Taff?" the daughter asked, her voice shaking.

"Of course," Mab laughed. "I did this for you, my child. It was the cow's fault that I had to leave you. But never again. He'll surely die at Sylvanas's hands."

"How could you, after all he'd done? He saved you. He saved me. He's risking his life to avenge our people."

"He's a cow my child. It was either him or me; an animal or your own mother."

Tyrr settled to the ground, sitting on her folded legs. She lifted her mother up and embraced her. Confused at first, Mab hugged back. She supposed her daughter was simply happy. Until the knife plunged into her back.

"Tyrr?" Mab asked, her voice aching. She gripped her daughter's hair and pulled, but strength escaped her. She tried to push away, but her child held strong.

Tyrr held her mother close until her soul slipped away, one final time. "Good bye mom."

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Blood trickles down my back and soaks into my fur as Varimathras delivers another swipe. I swing my sword at him, but with those damn wings he can glide out of my range. Circling like a bird of prey, he swoops down to cut into my back again. I swing again, and he uses his wings to float above my head. Powerful limbs lift him high into the air. I summon lightning into my palm, but still he simply glides around the room. "Cow," he mocks. "Did you ever plan on succeeding?"

"Ha," I chuckle, leaning on my sword for support. "I never had a plan."

"Insolent cow," he says, wings slowing so he comes just slightly slower. I throw my sword with all my strength, and though he easily dodges, it distracts him for only a moment. I dive forward and take hold of his leg. He pumps his wings with all his might, but with the added weight of a bull, I can slowly drag him to the ground. When my hooves touch the stone floor, I swing the dreadlord down. Before he can move I'm upon him. I grab his chin and a horn with a hand each and begin to twist. He struggles against me. I call on what strength I have left. He submits to me for just a moment and I break his neck with a crack.

Rhythmic clapping and a voice as smooth as an angel's. "Bravo, Greywalker. Fanatics, assassins, even some of Thrall's own have attempted to get this far. None have succeeded. But you, Greywalker, you truly a remarkable warrior. Do you have a name?"

Don't answer. Don't let her lull you to sleep. Stay sharp. Stay focused. And try not to think what this'll do to you.

"With Varimathras dead, I'm in need of a new majordomo. I can make it worth your while."

Focus.

The Dark Lady sighs pettily as she lifts a hand, one of her fingers lazily erect. "Pity." A beam of energy lances out of her digit and into my chest. No pain, I'm beyond that, but I do fall to the floor with a thud.

With what strength I have left I pluck a small crystal from a padded sack on my belt. "F-for you…Dark Lady," I growl as I crush the tiny sphere in my palm. A moment nothing happens. All is silent. The Dark Lady begins to cackle, thinking my plan has failed. But she can't see what I see. The spirits slowly surround her. The humans who succumb to her plagues. The elves who where slaughtered by her men. The dwarves and gnomes who where executed by her hand. Even the orcs, trolls and my fellow tauren, who died with her secret betrayals. I've been working for years, slowly gathering these poor spirits to grant them their final chance at revenge. Sylvanas doesn't know what attacks her, but she feels it fine. I imagine its like a thousand angry hands beating upon her all at once, all eager for first blood. She screams so loudly, shrieking like a banshee.

I have nothing left. I stop fighting the urge to sleep and settle my head down on my arms. This isn't so bad. I'll just bleed out till there's nothing left. It'll be like falling asleep.

This place I enter is dark and quiet and warm. Its perfect to sleep for a while. Just a while. I'm just goanna sleep for a while.