Chapter 28
It was a time of great celebration for the Baneblood tribe. News of Magnus's death came when the soldier of the Horde rode back triumphantly. Their armor seared and damaged and their bodies weak, but they were alive, and the bloodthirsty dictator was not. Now the rebel centaurs could perhaps claim their corrupt cousins, bring them back to the old ways, the good ways, before the corruption.
An extravagant party was held with the soldiers of the Horde: the guests of honor. Shaak had grown accustomed to that title: soldier of the Horde. Warrior of the ideals of Thrall. Comrade of Taff and Eck.
Still, there was something that nagged at him persistently, one thing that just didn't click. Durring the festivities, he slipped beside and Taff, who was drinking down alcohol as if it was spring water. A little less than a year ago, when Shaak had stumbled into that cabin on that fateful night, he was terrified by the eight foot tall, muscle bound bull, but now he felt rather comfortable in his presence. "How could we work with the Alliance's forces?" the blood elf asked. "Such an act could be persecuted as treason."
The grey bull's deep laughter was audible even over the party drums. Several centaurs were dancing, and the sound of rhythmic crashing hooves was deafening. "Its true," he responded. "What we did was treason. We could be executed for the act, or at the least exiled from our lands. But that is only if it is made public.
"Eck, Aloos, Cerb and I have worked witht eh Alliance many times in the past, should we have the same objective. SWe simply do not tell our superiors, they do not tell theirs. All is right."
Shaak could have wondered about the morality of the practice, or if it was his duty to report such fraternizing with the enemy. Instead, he took small pride in the fact that Taff entrusted him with such an incriminating secret, just as he had that day they leveled the Scarlet stronghold.
The following day, the Horde soldiers loaded their mounts and began the long trip home.
---
Being both a troll and a rogue, Aloos had no concept of meditation, so he had no method to relieve the mental burden Lunn had put on him. There was something growing inside her tummy, some abomination, and it was his duty to the Horde to kill it. Kill the monsters, slay the demons, that's what he'd been taught since the time of his birth.
But Lunn was his friend. She had saved him almost a year ago, when she, Taff and Shaak raided the Scarlet Crusader's fortress. He'd surely of been torn apart by the frenzied Forsaken if not for the night elf's efforts. Trolls placed a strong emphasis on repaying blood debts.So, in short, Aloos was screwed. He was loyal to the Horde but indebted to Lunn.
Aloos had no concept of mediation in the sense of staying still, breathing deep and obtaining some sense of enlightenment. But traing had a way of clearing his mind. His "opponent" was a wooden dummy. The build was meant to simulate a human, the troll even went as far as to dress it in a Scarlet's armor. The Scarlet was dead, so Aloos doubted he minded.
Aloos was skilled in his craft, and when he trained, a crowd tended to form around him. The hand to hand combat jungle trolls learned as a children was quite amazing, filled with acrobatic evasions and wide spinning kicks. Aloos added swords into the equation, inflicting graceful nicks and cuts to open spots in the wooden dummy's armor.
When training was complete, Aloos felt much better. The crowd dissipated, save youthful blood elf. The troll sneered annoyed as Cynthana Sungrass came to his side.
"I don't get it," she said blatantly. "Why didn't you run the dummy through? Or cut off his head? Or his arm?"
"Da slice and dice ain't about one wound, mon. Tink bout all da cuts and scrapes I made, and if da dummy bled like a human or one a ye elves. Rivers of blood mon."
"Oh," she said. "I don't get it. Why wouldn't you just impale it?"
"Sometimes ye gots ta be creative when ye fight. If da armors too thick, ye gots ta find the weak spots and use those."
The blood elf youth seemed to be satisfied with this, or perhaps she was just bored, as she scurried away. By now, the mental strain had returned, so Aloos went off to get drunk.
---
It was late in the night that Taff, Shaak, and Eck rode into Brill. It had been a long trip, a long mission, and they were tired. They each broke to their loved ones: the blood elf's younger sister, the Forsaken's wife, and the tauren's mate.
Taff made his way shakily to his home. Tommorow he'd report on the events of Desolace. Tommrow he'd formally address his superiors. Tommorow he'd lie about his involvement with the Alliance. But tonight, he'd sleep in his own warm bed with the elf he hadn't seen in far too long.
In the bedroom he found Lunn awake, as she was nocturnal. He could sense something was amiss, even before she displayed her protruding stomach and explained what had happened.
---
It was the following day, Taff sat anxiously in the office of Executioner Zygand: his closest superior.
"I see the mission in Desolace went well?" the bureaucratic undead said.
"I see you got a new desk," the bull quipped. "Yes sir. The threat was neutralized, and we can expect good relationships with the Baneblood tribe from this point on. Private Shaak'tilander Sungrass also proved himself as an intelligent and capable agent. In light of this, I would like to request a leave of absence. Commander Pantherfoot and I would like some time away from the war. With the blood elves now reinforcing your ranks as a whole, it shouldn't be too much of a problem."
The exuctutioner gave a sigh of passive interest. "Granted. Both of you are to return in two months sharp."
"Yes sir."
---
Taff finished loading his faithful kodo with the necessary supplies, before hoisting himself up to the saddle. By this time, Lunn was seven months pregnant, and her belly had swelled to an obtrusive size. She dressed in a long, loose fitting black dress for concealment, as well as baggy jacket.
Their closest comrades saw the two off: Cerberus, Aloos, Jonathon and Elizabeth Eck. Even Shaak wished his one time commander well. They were all ignorant to the real reason the tauren and elf were leaving, save Aloos, would never tell. Though Taff would have preferred the night elf to ride with him, she insisted on independence, and was carried away from the town of Brill on her faithful night saber.
Lunn cringed. It was subtle, but Taff took notice. "What's wrong?" he asked.
She smiled warmly in response. "Nothing. The baby just kicked."
Well, that's it. The last chapter in this particular story. Sorry if this ending kinda snuck up on y'all, but it shouldn't feel like a real conclusion. I don't want the world I've created to die. I just need some time off to pursue other works, I would like to post a Halo fic I've been working on, and I've also got some original works I've been neglecting. What I would like to do next in terms of Warcraft is write a story that follows the Alliance characters I've introduced: (Rendal, Bracha, and Wonki). But don't get your hopes up, it'll be a while before I make anything permanent. I would like to thank everyone who gave a review, since you reminded me I have fans and kept me going. Well, good night folks, its been fun.