Chapter 16

Cerberus woke.

He blinked white much from his eyes and yawned, the drugs finally loosing their grip.

He brushed thick fingers over his shirt, pants, and boots. His captors had searched him for any hidden weapon, taken his survival knife as well as a primary set of lock picking tools.

Cerberus groaned as he stuck a finger down his throat. Black, sticky bile lurched up his throat and onto the ground, spreading out over the floor. Cerberus picked a small leather sack out of the bile.

He had learned a few tricks from Aloos: predominately how to pick a security device. The door to his cell had a gnome lock, an electrical lock, notoriously difficult to open by brute force. But, like the creatures who made them, the locks were flawed. The door was opened by swiping a card through a reading mechanism. A sharp metal point inserted into the swipe would disrupt the circuit and unlock the door. His captors had never guessed a simple orc would know anything of engineering. By contrast, Cerberus had been taught gnome production. Despite his feeling for the three feet tall creatures, he had to admit they designed quite useful things.

He removed the small metal pick from its leather wrapping and inserted it into the swipe mechanism. It sparked and the lock clanked. With a heavy push, Cerberus was able to pry the door open.

Outside, there was but one forest troll: lying against a wall. His head bobbed in rhythm with his shoulders and his eyes was closed slightly. Cerberus would've laughed if he didn't fear it may awaken the sleeping troll.

Slowly, the orc extended a hand and slipped the rifle from the forest troll's grasp. When it was safely in his grip, Cerberus struck the troll in the roof of his head with the butt of the rifle. He then took the troll by the legs and dragged him into the cell.

---

"How could you?" Lunn whimpered. "How could you let them?"

"How could I?" Claudane asked. "How could you serve the Horde? How could you spit on every Sentinel who died in battle?"

"They betrayed me," Lunn snapped. "All of you, all of you hypocritical bastards. I'm not the traitor here. And what of you? Working with this." She gestured to the dark troll who walked behind her and the forest troll at her side. "How could let them?"

Claudane turned and struck his sister across the jaw. The shock, more than the force, caused her to tumble to the ground. The dark troll took a clump of her hair and lifted her to her feet.

"Enough," Claudane said. He opened the door of the cell that held Cerberus, only to find an unconscious troll inside.

A gunshot rang, and the forest troll who stood beside Lunn fell, a gaping bullet hole through his heart.

The dark troll lifted Lunn by the throat and used her as a shield, her feet dangled helplessly beneath her.

She saw Cerberus holding a rifle, the muzzle smoking. Not only had he escaped, but he'd procured a weapon! But she was still her own brother's hostage.

"Seem familiar?" Claudane asked.

Cerberus didn't answer. He steadied the rifle, the muzzle pointed directly at Lunn. She stiffened.

Cerberus squeezed the trigger gently, and the rifle let out a roar. The bullet sailed through the air, finding its mark in the dark troll's skull. He fell, and Lunn fell as well, the troll's foul blood spraying her face. Otherwise, she was alive, but pinned helplessly beneath the dark troll's corpse.

Cerberus fired again, this time Claudane his target. But the night elf lifted a dagger, deflecting the bullet with skill that was only available to his kind. He spun the dagger gracefully, grabbed the blade nimbly in two fingers, and threw it. Cerberus lifted his rifle: the butt catching the soaring blade. Cerberus raised is rifle and fired, but Claudane had disappeared. So the orc gave chase.

Around the corner, the hallway continued. So did Cerberus. Then finally it opened into a large room. The only noise came from an electrical generator that powered this complex.

Cerberus skimmed the room, looking through the rifle he'd torn from a forest troll's hands. He feared killing this night elf would prove more difficult to defeat.

Footsteps behind him! Cerberus turned, weapon drawn, but saw nothing.

Something sharp drove into his shoulder, and he lost grip of his rifle. It fell to the ground, making a loud clank. He twisted around as Claudane made another sweep with his dagger. Cerberus leaned back, the tip of the blade barely missing him.

The orc punched a right hook, his huge fist colliding with the elf's head. His left fist came up into the elf's chin, knocking him back.

Claudane brushed his bleeding lip and laughed. He lunged forward, swiping strategically with his blade. Cerberus lifted his arm to protect his face. The knife cut deep into him until his skin was painted a sickly black. The elf then extended his leg out, kicking the orc in the stomach.

Cerberus doubled over, winded. Claudane brought his blade down, intent to drive it into the back of the orc's skull. The only thing stopping his victory, was the orc's hand. He lifted his open fist and allowed the blade to drive deep into his left palm. Then he lifted the night elf onto his shoulder and rammed into a wall. Claudane gave a yelp of pain, the orc's shoulder driving deep into the elf's gut. Cerberus backed away, and repeated the assault.

The night elf brought a knee up to the orc's chin to free himself from the hold. He landed on the floor to groan in pain: clutching his stomach. Claudane swallowed the agony and ran forward: extending his arm out, parallel to the ground. He knocked Cerberus down as he ran past.

Utilizing a great deal of agility: the night elf ran up the closest wall. Taking four steps into the air, he leapt off the wall and flipped. Claudane's intent was to land onto his opponent: dropping his knee onto the orc's neck or skull. Such a blow would not only be fatal: but provide an agonizing death.

At the last moment, Cerberus was able to roll onto his side. It was too late for the night elf to change his position. His knee collided with the stone floor: the bone and muscle shattering under the force.

The pain was an explosion that rattled up his thigh and paralyzed his whole body.

Cerberus had all the time in the world to get to his feet. He kicked the night elf onto his belly. Next, he grabbed his opponent by the belt and his hair. Shifting his weight, Cerberus threw the night elf into the electrical generator.

There was a bright, blinding flash of light. The night elf let out a shriek of pain. His pale lavender skin blackened and charred. His hair caught flame. His flesh burned off white bone and formed a slimy pool on the ground.

Cerberus groaned. His knees gave way and he hit the ground hard, blood spurting out of his badly damaged arms. He removed and tore his shirt, then wrapped his wounds as best he could. In moments, the cloth was soaked black and he began to feel woozy.

Footsteps behind him. Too light, to soft to be a trolls, at least the one in the service of the now deceased night elf. Lunn came into his vision. Her gentle hands glowed and healed his wounds. Then she moved and helped the orc to his feet.

Are you alright? he signed, struggling to lift his arm.

Lunn turned her gaze, as if she couldn't bare to face the orc. "Yes," she said.

And though he knew she lied, he was too weak to question her any further.

Dear devoted fans,

This may be the last update for a while. I am truly sorry, but with finals for school, a part time job, and various other responsibilities, I can not justify writing about zombie priests; biped, anthromorphic cows; magic addicted elves; and half men/half horses. I will pick up the story some time in the middle of July, if not earlier. Until then, I hope you all will wait.

-Wolf