Chapter 20 - War never ends
"I thought I told you we were on a break!"
Dalrus' protesting shout fell on deaf ears... If whatever that thing threatening to swallow him whole was even had ears. This one time he could have sworn he saw a figure of what appeared to be a gigantic octopus covered in mouths. Literally. Wide mouths with needle like fangs all over the surface of its body, even itss eyes. But he had seen crazier things whenever his mind drifted towards the Void like that.
'How long do you intend to struggle? You merely postpone the inevitable. Soon enough, you will be engulfed. Consumed. You... Will be ours.'
Dalrus was hanging upside down... Wasn't he? Time and space were very abstract concepts in his void-fueled nightmares. "WOULD YOU SOD OFF ALREADY? THIS ISN'T FUNNY ANYMORE!" He screamed as he felt a thousand tendrils sliding over his skin, pulling him in every direction and threatening to tear him apart.
'Foolish child... Every day that passes, it comes closer... Soon... You will lose him. And then you will be ours.'
"I SAID SOD OFF!" He screamed in his mind, his eyes snapping shut as he struggled and trashed...
...And then he let out a loud gasp as he fell heavily on the floor below the net he had been sleeping on.
"Whu...?" He opened his eyes and looked around. Dalrus was still within the tent of the espionage and information gathering unit of the Gilneas Brigade. Hanton was looking down at him from the centar table with a raised brow, as were the rugged looking dwarf and the woman who Dalrus had seen earlier. "Oh... Bad dream." He muttered as he rubbed the back of his head. "How long was I out?"
"Not long." Hanton informed. "Just a couple hours. I was actually about to wake you up. I think it would be a fine enough time to go see Lady Jaina, since she appeared to have something to speak with you about."
"Oh... Right. That." Dalrus shivered and stood up, his sore muscles screaming in protest. He then shifted his eyes back to the woman and the dwarf who had been silently staring at him this entire time. "Oh, pardon my rudeness. I'm Dalrus Plaguefang, the newest addition to your team. You two must be Hilda and Darthardt, yes?" The young rogue spoke, trying to offer what his father used to call 'the first impression smile'.
They did not seem too amused by it. Now that he could afford to inspect them more closely, Dalrus realized that was the least hairy dwarf he had ever seen in his life. His mustache was so small it wasn't even jutting out the sides of his face, nor was it hanging past his chin. And his beard was so trimmed it looked more like the usual fit most humans chose to sport, barely a few inches off his jaw. It was also black in colour. His nose was about as wide and long as most dwarves', and, as Dalrus had noted earlier, his face was practically covered in scars. "Aye, Hanton was telling us about it. Never in me years have I seen a green lad like ye in this business. But since ye already proved yerself, and considering we're at war, I suppose beggars can't be choosers. We are short handed enough as is." The dwarf was holding a large smoking pipe in his lips, and Dalrus saw the herb glow red as Darthardt took in a deep breath and exhaled the smoke through the corners of his mouth.
The woman, Hilda, remained quiet as a stone as she stroked her chin and continued to stare at Dalrus as if she were appraising his very soul. She kind of reminded the boy of the harpies he had faced earlier that day. Her face was long and wrinkly, and her hair was tinged with white. "Well, uh... Thanks. And you must be Hilda... Right?" Dalrus shot an inquisitive glance towards Hanton, who simply smiled enigmatically.
"Don't mind her, she don't speak much, lad. She's more a watcher than a speaker, if you know what I mean." Darthardt said with a raspy little chuckle. The dwarf's words were all heavy and grainy sounding, as if Dalrus needed any more indication he was a heavy smoker. "I... See. Well, then... Lovely meeting you all, but... I guess I better get going, eh?" And with that, Dalrus began to make his way towards the exit... When suddenly what felt like an iron claw squeezed his wrist, keeping him in place. Turning around in surprise, he saw Hilda there, her face inches away from his while her fingers squeezed his arm with a grip as firm as stone. "Uh... Can I... Help you?" He said, trying to lean away from her.
"Touched." She whispered, her deep green eyes wide as gold coins as their gaze was fixated on Dalrus'. "It is too late for you." A wicked grin seemed to stretch the corners of her dry mouth, and she released her grip on him, at which point Dalrus took a step back, rubbing his wrist. "I... What? What's that supposed to mean?"
Dalrus saw Hanton and Darthardt swap meaningful glances. "Oy, lad... Ye best watch yer back. Hilda, she... Well. She senses things. She had a run in with one of them orcish warlocks long ago... Never been the same since." Hanton nodded, his brows furrowing as he peered down at Dalrus. "None of the things she say are very clear... Or... Sensical, for that matter. I wouldn't worry too much, if I were you... I doubt it's something worth mulling over right now. Best to focus on what's important... Like that meeting with Lady Jaina. She's probably waiting for you as we speak." And with that, all the rogues turned their backs on young Dalrus, who was simply left there baffled. "All... Right... Then..." He slowly said as he back walked towards the hut's exit, wary of any new lunges for his arm. He was not used to a person being quicker than him, and it was certainly not a pleasant experience.
The rest of his way out the hut, however, went without any incident, and once outside, he could turn around and take in a deep breath before marching towards the keep at the center of the camp, where he presumed Lady Jaina's chambers would be.
Everyone was on high alert. It would seem the impending orcish threat had the entire camp moving about like an anthill, despite the warning having been issued hours earlier. It was a wonder how Dalrus had even managed to sleep at all through all that noise. The moon was high on the sky, but something about it looked different. It was as if, ever since arriving on Kalimdor, the moon appeared to have grown... Bigger? Brighter? Like it simply had a stronger presence here.
Thanks to that, the many torches illuminating the camp had little more work to do. Everyone could see quite clearly, which made carrying cannons, armour, weapons, supplies or simply restationing themselves quite easy. It was like the siege of Gilneas all over again... Only this time, Dalrus supposed, they lacked the advantage of a gigantic stone wall loaded with cannons in a narrow pass. Also, their enemies were supposedly smarter than the average zombie. Dalrus had never met an Orc before, but like every Azerothian, he had heard tales of the brute race. Big, strong, savage, bloodthirsty, they showed no mercy and slaughtered all in their path. He really was in no rush to meet one anytime soon.
Eventually, he reached the keep. After asking about Lady Jaina's whereabouts, he was informed that the young mage had a tent of her own mounted on the edge of the camp. Dalrus figured that made sense, since it would be impossible for anyone to get some rest in the middle of all that movement... Not to mention their leader would probably have some more privileges. And so he set off for the place he had been pointed at, but on his way there, he happened to see Felrus standing guard over the edge of a barricade, with his helm pulled down over his head. Dalrus only recognized his brother thanks to that comically stiff way he stood watch as all guards around him would either shift nervously or just lean back against the railing and yawn of boredom.
Taking a small detour, Dalrus silently made his way towards Felrus, who, of course, had not noticed his approach. With absolutely no sound, Dalrus tapped his brother on his left shoulder before hopping over to his right side, trying to hold back a giggle. Startled, Felrus suddenly turned over that side, his hand reaching down for his sword as his eyes darted back and forth, searching for the source of that touch while Dalrus rapidly ducked behind his brother, thus remaining on his blind spot. Confused, Felrus looked up, and Dalrus took this opportunity to slide around his brother's legs to stand right in front of him. "Hey, bro." Dalrus said, which once more startled Felrus, making him stumble back against the railing. "Light be damned, Dalrus, I told you never to do that again!" The young warrior gasped, his hand over his chest as he heaved for air. "You nearly had my heart jump out through my mouth!"
Dalrus simply waved his hands. "Don't be such a drama queen. Just wanted to see if you were quick on your wits and ready for the orcs!"
His brother appeared to take his words seriously. "I see... I'm ashamed to say I was caught off guard, then. If you were an orcish assassin, I'd be dead already... I had best be more vigilant, then." He then stood up properly and sheathed his sword. "I'm happy to see you're back safe from your mission. How did it go? The entire camp could hear the noise from the mountain."
Dalrus laced his fingers together before his chest and stretched his arms out, which in turn made all his digits crack loudly. "As if you need even ask. It was no problem at all, just a bunch of bird brains buried under rock along with their nests. Harpies won't be an issue to us anymore."
Felrus simply furrowed his brows. "What the bloody hell is a harpy?"
Before Dalrus could respond, a loud, booming voice rang from the watchpost to their right. "PLAGUEFANG! CHANGE SHIFTS!" And his brother immediately assumed a salute position. "Sorry Dal, we'll talk later. I'm going up the watchtower now." And with that, he was off. Dalrus shook his head. How could anyone stand spending all night long simply peering over the horizon and waiting for something to happen was beyond him.
Figuring he had wasted enough time by now, he decided to resume his march towards Lady Jaina's tent. There were a few heavily armored knights there standing guard, all of them mounted on enormous warhorses with as much armour as their riders. Dalrus considered sneaking past them just for the fun of it, but he figured it would be easier to just walk in through the front. Clearing his throat, he stepped up to the closest one. "Good evening! I'm Dalrus. Lady Jaina asked me to meet her here."
The man peered down at the boy from atop his steed, only his eyes visible through his thick iron helm. "And what is a child like you doing in this war camp, boy? Are babies and greenhorns all Gilneas was willing to part with for this war?"
Dalrus resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "Geez mate, I had never heard that one before. I thought Lady Jaina's guard was chosen only by their battle prowess, but now I see your wit played a vital role in the selection, too. If you're done sharing your wisdom with me, can I pass? Pretty sure she's waiting for me."
Dalrus saw the other knights exchange some glances as the one before him tugged on his horse's reins a bit, which made the beast stomp the ground and trot a little closer to the boy. "Quite the tongue you got there, boy. Figures talking their way out of situations and cowering behind walls would be all you Gilneans are good for."
Closing his eyes, the young rogue took in a deep breath and slowly exhaled. "Yes, another fine example of originality and tongue lashing. You must be guard of the month if all you do is ignore people's questions and insult them. I'm sure whatever family member paid for you to get this spot must be very proud of your work."
The man's eyes narrowed with rage, and Dalrus saw him reach for his sword as the other knights quickly began to approach them. 'Well, isn't this just lovely...' Dalrus thought with a mental sigh as he crouched down and reached for his daggers.
"Enough!" Suddenly, Jaina's voice cut through the air, and everyone froze where they were. The mage was right behind Dalrus, and had a basket under one arm, held close to her chest. "Captain, I thought I had told you what to do when this boy arrived. And I have had enough complaints about you antagonizing the Gilneans."
Grunting, the knight let go of his sword's handle and pulled on his reins once more, making his horse backstep a few paces. "My apologies, my lady. I merely wanted to ascertain his identity. At this time of high alert, it would not do if a craven assassin were to infiltrate your chambers."
Jaina furrowed her brows. "I will be fine, captain. I think I can take care of myself well enough, thank you. Please, return to your post and warn me immediately if anyone else approaches." She then turned to Dalrus, who had been silently watching this whole exchange. "Mister Plaguefang... Please, come with me."
To that, the young rogue simply smiled. "Call me Dalrus." He hadn't taken three steps when he saw the knight bring his sword down in front of the youth. "Hold on a moment." Said the knight. "You're not going anywhere before you leave these toys behind, boy. Someone could get hurt if you trip and fall with those." His eyes were fixated on Dalrus' daggers, both dangling from either side of his belt.
"It is alright, captain. I trust he will not use them on me. There's no need for this." Jaina chimed in, launching a glare towards the heavily armored knight. "Well, you heard the lady! Nice talking to you, captain. I hope we get to share pleasantries again soon." With a smug grin, Dalrus pushed the man's sword aside and strutted onwards, following the beautiful mage inside of her tent as the knight fumed behind him.
"This way, please." Jaina said, holding the tent's entrance open for him. "Oh, thank you." Dalrus said, then stepped inside. Then his jaw dropped, and his eyes went wide.
From outside, Jaina's tent appeared to be even smaller than the one his group was stationed. But on the inside, it was as large as Gilneas' city hall. Easily, a few dozens of people could fit in there. There were bookshelves adorning every wall - stone walls, to his bafflement - and they were all filled with hundreds of books, and some were actually flying through the air, flapping their covers as if they were wings. Magical glowing runes were shimmering all over the place, and in the ceiling high above was a mirror of the night sky... Or so it seemed at a first glance, but there were glowing lines connecting the stars together, making figures of men and strange creatures in the sky.
"Please, take a seat... And, ah, sorry for the mess." Jaina was saying as she walked past him and approached a table close to the center of the room. Looking down, Dalrus saw the floor was completely covered in ragged old book pages, all of them completely covered in ancient scribbling. There was even a hearth next to the table where Jaina was setting the basket on, and with a wave of her hand, a pair of chairs materialized and set themselves around the fine wood. "Everything has been rather... Chaotic since we got here. I barely have any time to organize, or... Just... Lay down and rest." She let out a long, tired sigh, and dropped her staff against the table next to her.
After a moment of brief hesitation, the lad strutted forward, utterly mesmerized by that incredible display of magic. Not that he was any novice to the concept, of course. He had seen spells before, be it the destructive incantations like he saw during the Siege of Gilneas, or for more mundane affairs like giving brooms life and making them sweep by themselves. Never anything on this level, however. This entire accomodation was reeking of magic, and Dalrus felt himself more than a bit intoxicated by that raw power filling the air. He almost tripped over the chair Jaina was offering him, so distracted he was by the flying books above. "Oh, it's... Don't worry about it." He said in a daze, his eyes glued to the constant motion and flapping book covers.
"Would you like some tea?" The young mage's voice snapped him back to reality, and when he looked down, his jaw dropped. A tea pot was actively hopping over the table in his direction, it's steaming contents spilling over it's edge and staining the wood with every little wobble. "Uh... Yeah, sure. I'd love some." He managed to blurt out as the pot bent over a cup he hadn't even noticed was laying right under his chin and poured some steaming pink liquid for him to enjoy. He brought it up to his lips and blew over it's shimmering surface for a moment before taking a sip. It was like fireworks were dancing around his mouth, making his tongue and cheeks tingle as he swallowed. "Exotic!" He happily said, setting the cup down over the table once more.
Jaina simply smiled, then took a sip of her own cup, her legs crossed as she leaned back on her seat. "Yes, I managed to salvage some from the ruins of Dalaran, after... Well, I'm sure you know the story." Her expression grew a little more somber, and she took another sip. "I'm sorry for calling you so late, you must be exhausted after your mission... But I was happy to hear it went so well, even with you being so young. Normally, I would be against you joining our troops, but..." She let out a long, tired sigh, and set her cup down. "I'm afraid at this point, we really need all the help we can get... Oh! Excuse me, I... I forgot. Ahem." She straightened her back, and appeared to be trying to look a bit more... Imposing, perhaps? Commanding? Respectable? "I'm Jaina Proudmoore, as you probably... Already know. I'm the leader of the Human Expedition here, in Kalimdor. And I would like to thank you for coming to see me tonight, Dalrus."
He had to force himself not to laugh and how clearly uncomfortable the woman was, attempting to look like a mighty general of some sort, especially with how forced her more formal tone was. "The pleasure is all mine, milady. Truth be told, waking up from that nap was no issue." 'And hopefully it never will be,' he thought. "So, to what do I owe you the honor of your summons? I take it was more than my roguish charms?" He flashed her an exaggeratedly cocky smile after that.
It took all his self control not to burst out laughing when the young mage's mouth hung slightly open, her eyes wide as she was very clearly at a loss of words yet again. Taking another sip from his cup, Dalrus wiped his chin with his thumb and degraded that smile to a more friendly one. "Relax, I'm just kidding. I know I'm a tad too young for you. I assume it's got to do what Arugal, eh?"
Jaina's expression grew more somber. She coughed, one hand covering her mouth, and quickly recomposed herself. "Y-yes, that... That is correct. You have a very... Sharp mind, Dalrus. I did not mean to interrogate you back then, as you were clearly still taxed. And... Well. I imagine it must be a touchy subject for any Gilnean... Of course, the good Captain has already relayed all the information to me. But I would like to hear it from..." She shifted a little in her seat. "Someone not so... Militarily experienced, so to say."
"You mean you'd like to hear a child's point of view on the whole thing?" He inquired as he laid one elbow on the table and rested his cheek upon his closed fist. "You really don't need to beat around the bush with me, Lady Jaina. I'm more thick skinned than I look."
Jaina finally managed to give him a genuine smile. "I... I apologize. I'm just... Trying to appear more, ah... Formal, since I've been dealing with so many figures of authority lately. I mean, It's not my first time meeting such people, but... I... I just never had to lead them myself, is all." She sighed, then rubbed her forehead, appearing very tired. "I... I never thought having to lead my people would be so... Burdensome. All I want is to take them to safety, and end the Scourge so we can all live happily... But I fear I may have made a wrong turn at some point, a mistake... You of all people would know, even the members of the Kirin Tor can make mistakes... Terrible ones."
After taking another sip from his cup, he sighed with delight and began to idly tap the table with his free fingers, thinking 'What the bloody hell is a Kirin Tor?', then said: "Well, I dare say so far you've been doing a stellar job compared to the lunatic who summoned beastmen from another dimension. But in the end, that turned out to do more good than harm. We sure lost a lot less people than we would have if the undead had broken through."
It felt as if everything the boy said was completely unexpected for the mage, as each time he spoke she would stare at him with that curious expression. "That... Is a very mature way to look at things. I suppose it was the lesser of two evils... But still, there will be repercussions to it. And I fear making a similar mistake... Thinking that, maybe, my calls will lead to only more suffering ahead..."
Dalrus simply shrugged at that. "Could be. It's not impossible for you to have done exactly that. How could we possibly know?" He then finished pouring the rest of the tea cup's contents down his gullet. "We are at war. People will die, whether we like it or not. That's what sucks so much about it. One thing I can say with absolute certainty is that taking your people out of Lordaeron and bringing them here was without a doubt the right choice. I can't say I enjoy the notion of abandoning our home to defend someplace else, but... Those lands are pretty much lost. Everything has been happening way too fast. We need a place where we can calm down and think about what to do next. And I think here is that place. The demons, the undead and whatever else came to doom our world seem to be bent on hunting us down... But at least, now, it's not going to be out of nowhere. Now, we can get ready, and push them back when that wave comes to wash us off."
He saw the woman's thin fingers squeezing the edges of her dress as she listened to him, unblinking. And then, to his surprise, he saw her lower her face and wipe what appeared to be a tear forming on the corner of her eye. "Perhaps it is a sign of how sad these times have become. A youth shouldn't need to accept the tragedy of war, nor should he be risking his life like this… But it is the grim reality we must all face. We have all suffered terrible losses…"
The young rogue leaned back on his seat, hands crossed over his lap as he peered up at the magical sky ceiling above. "Maybe you're right. War is a very messed up ordeal. But... You know. The whole point of fighting in it is so other people don't have to. It really warms me up to think that I'm doing this so I can get back home one day, and someone else doesn't need to take my place. All I ever wanted in life was to... Well, just... Live. Wake up, fool around in the city, skip my lessons whenever I can, flirt with the girls at the inn, eat fine food, drink fine beverages, maybe one day explore amazing new sights... But these days, all we can afford to worry about is our survival. I just want to help make a world where a person's biggest concern is what they are having for dinner, not if a horde of monstrosities is gonna bring down their walls and kill their family."
As if it were possible, Jaina's expression grew more sullen. "Once, I knew what that was like. During my years studying at Dalaran… I realize now, it was like living a dream. I had no idea how grim things could quickly become, for everyone. How easy it is for one's life to take a turn for the worse, starting with a single, terrible choice..." For a moment, her eyes grew distant, and Dalrus wondered if she was thinking of a loved one she had lost in this war. "All we can do is to keep facing forward. It's pointless to wonder about what could have been... We can only decide what shall be."
Shooting her a playful wink, Dalrus said: "That's the spirit. And if you ever think you made a wrong choice along your way... Try and think about how many more people would be dead if you hadn't made that choice. This may not be the best route to travel on, but it sure as hell ain't the worst. We just gotta keep our chins up and survive these adversities."
Nodding, Jaina made a little motion with her hand, and the empty cups vanished in a pink swirling mist. "You are absolutely right. Thank you, Dalrus. Your words were most comforting. I... Needed them more than I realized. But I'm afraid that was not why I called you here tonight..."
"Ah." He leaned even further back on his chair, causing the front legs to leave the ground and making the young rogue balance his weight constantly so he wouldn't fall. "I assume it has something to do with your charming bodyguard outside, then?"
"Well... Yes, and I am very sorry about his behavior. Most people are very... Distrustful... Of Gilneas, after your king decided to leave the Alliance and build his wall." With a new sigh, Jaina began to fiddle with a little fold on her dress. "But, frankly, I wanted to ask you about Arugal. It brought me hope to hear that one of the Kirin Tor had survived Art-" She caught herself, and Dalrus leaned his head to the side, curious. "-the scourge's attack." She corrected herself, and the young rogue couldn't help but notice she appeared to be squeezing the folds of her dress.
"Aye, old Greymane is a bit of a hard head." Dalrus casually said as he scratched behind his right ear with his left hand. "Stubborn old man is gonna stay behind that wall until it falls down over him. But, about Arugal… I can't say I knew the man. I heard him having a chat with our good king once. Seemed like a good fellow at first, but then I heard he went crazy and began hoarding worgen in that keep of his."
Jaina sighed. "I feared as much… It would seem we can't count on his aid anymore. A shame, but…" And once more, her gaze grew sad and distant. "It is not the first time I've lost someone to madness…"
Dalrus was intrigued. Was she talking about Arthas, the mad traitor prince? Dalrus had no idea what her relationship with the fallen paladin could be, but he knew better than to inquire. "I'm sorry to hear, love. Thankfully, for once, the wall served the purpose of keeping the bad stuff out. Though, we came dangerously close to losing it. I fear we shouldn't rely on it so much anymore."
Jaina's gaze went back to him. "Dalaran... Had made the same mistake." She waved one hand, and a flying book came down beating it's covers to land on the table in front of them. From its open pages burst out a miniature version of the mage city of Dalaran, with its ivory towers and gorgeous crystals of power. "We thought ourselves... Untouchable. Above all else. But then, not only was the city ransacked by the undead... It was also completely destroyed by the demonic lord of the Burning Legion. I know better than anyone the price of that hubris... So I'd like to do my best so that not only the people of Gilneas, but all residents of the Eastern Kingdoms can live without fear."
"Cheers to that, love." Dalrus said without really thinking. He then realized how he had just addressed the supreme commander of this entire effort and almost fell off his chair, but managed to balance himself so it would fall forward instead. "I-I mean, ah... Indeed! A noble goal for all of us! Milady!" He tried to offer a polite smile, but this time it was Jaina who was struggling not to laugh. "It is fine." She said. "Thank you once more, Dalrus. I appreciate your honesty. This has been a most enlightening chat. But... I'm afraid I must cut our conversation short now. I have... A lot to do, and I'm sure you need more rest."
'Oh gods, please, no.' "Well, I'd be lying if I said proper rest would be unwelcome. Thanks for having me, milady. I'd love to chat you up again anytime our duties allow." And with that, he stood up, as did she. After a courteous farewell, he was on his way back to the tent where Lyafra would no doubt be ready to give him another assignment along with a scowl.
As he walked, he couldn't help but ponder. First, a war against the orcs. Then... Orcs again, and a crazy dragon. Then, undead. After that, demons. And now the orcs were about to attack them once more. "Guess war never changes." He whispered to himself as he placed his hands on his pockets and peered up at that beautiful night sky with its abnormally powerful moonlight, wondering if the conflicts in this world would ever truly end. Then his stomach growled, and he was reminded of the fact he hadn't eaten anything since morning. "Bloody hells, I miss Trisha."