I'm so, so sorry this chapter has taken so long. I got hit with some really awful real life stuff this month that absolutely tanked my desire to write, and then I felt so guilty about not writing that it just made everything even worse. Please accept my sincere apologies for the delay, and my thanks for all your wonderful comments and support. It most certainly does not go unnoticed.
Varian
The following day saw Varian back in the arena once more; his fists opening and closing around the hilts of two broad blades as he awaited the referee's signal to begin. After a lengthy celebration of their first victory, he and Auriana had spent the rest of the night planning their strategies for their upcoming fights. Their second attempt at discussion had been far more serious than the first, though Varian had not been above provoking her with the occasional tickle or stolen kiss. In the end, however, their conversation had resulted in a carefully planned and decided upon set of strategies for the coming battles, and they went to bed confident in their ability to handle whatever the morning might bring.
Their first duel of the day had seen them matched against the rogue and hunter duo from Gilneas. Varian had not considered them to be especially threatening, but Auriana clearly felt otherwise. She chose fire as her weapon of choice, and opened up the match with a spectacular display of pyrotechnics that left the crowd gasping and the Gilneans with little option but to flee before her burning wrath. She seemed to take particular pleasure in routing the rogue, and the match was more or less over before Varian even really had time to wonder why she had taken to the fight with such vehemence.
They had then been afford a brief break between matches while several of the other duels were fought, before being once again summoned to the arena to square off against the night elves of Darnassus. Varian had been looking forward to this match in particular, keen as he was to meet his dear friend and former teammate Broll in the ring - and to subsequently beat him soundly. It had been a long time since they had stood together in an arena, and while they would meet today as foes instead of friends, Varian was almost as eager as he would have been had they been fighting on the same side.
Interestingly, Auriana had also duelled Broll once before, on the occasion of their first meeting. It had been a friendly duel, with no real stakes, but she had handily beaten the Archdruid in single combat. Broll was exceedingly smart, however, and Varian had no doubt that he would have analysed every last second of their last encounter, searching for any weaknesses that he could exploit during their rematch.
Not that she has any, Varian thought proudly.
Auriana was the smallest person in the arena by far, and yet to him, she stood taller than any of them. Her hands ignited with purple sparks as the referee called upon her to choose her magical weapon of choice, and Varian heard several gasps of surprise echo out from the crowd. Anyone who knew Auriana also knew that she typically preferred to fight with frost - or fire, were she roused to anger - and it was surprising to see her choose to work with pure arcane. As Varian had recently learned, however, she had been working with Archmage Modera in an effort to broaden her skill base - and it seemed to have already paid off. Broll had certainly come prepared to fight against Auriana's frost magic, judging by the sudden shift in his expression, though Varian doubted the revelation would throw his old friend for too long.
The Silver Hand referee then moved on to Broll's partner, Shandris Feathermoon, who naturally selected a bow. As the General of the Sentinel Army, Shandris's skills had been honed over quite literally thousands of years, and while Varian was confident in their ability to defeat her, she was not to be underestimated. She looked fit and ready, and gave Broll a determined nod as the referee at last directing his attention to the towering Archdruid.
As the referee crossed the arena floor to speak to Broll and make his final preparations for the match, Varian turned an ear to the two announcers sitting high above him in the stands. They had kept up a lively stream of informative banter the entire time Varian had been in the arena, but it was only once he heard his name that he actually began to pay attention.
"Here's a fun fact, folks," the male announcer called, his voice booming loud and jovial over the quiet, eager chatter of the crowd. "King Varian and Broll Bearmantle are actually close personal friends! They once fought together as gladiators in the Crimson Ring - which is a horribly disreputable event, by the way, very uncouth…"
Most of Varian's attention was fixed on Broll, but he couldn't help but to let out an amused snort at the goblin's words. 'Disreputable' was one way to describe the Crimson Ring, though he could think of a few less flattering descriptions.
"You're just sour they rejected your proposal to call their fights," the female gnome countered.
"Well, who holds an arena event without me ? It's barbaric, I tell you!"
Out of the corner of his eye, Varian saw the goblin shake his head; the movement making his giant bat ears bobble up and down in a rather comical fashion. He couldn't remember either of the announcer's names, though now that he was listening, their fast-paced running commentary was difficult to ignore.
"All that aside, do you think that will affect the outcome of the match?" the gnome pressed, drawing her co-announcer's attention back to the imminent clash.
"I don't think they'll go easy on each other, if that's what you mean," the goblin concluded.
Varian wholeheartedly agreed. If anything, he would probably fight harder against Broll than anyone else. He knew exactly how formidable his friend could be, and it was something of a point of pride. He, Broll, and Valeera had long debated which of the three of them was the superior fighter, and today Varian intended to prove that he was the undisputed king of the arena.
"So who are you putting your money on, then?"
"The night elves, obviously," the goblin said, without hesitation.
A wave of assorted cheers and jeers rippled across the crowd, depending on whether people agreed or disagreed with his choice; Varian himself very much being a firm proponent of the latter point of view.
"Why's that?" the gnome asked. "Stormwind are currently undefeated, and have won both their matches in very convincing fashion."
Damn good point , Varian thought, nodding along with her words despite himself.
"Yeah, but the night elves have a bear," the goblin replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
" And ?"
"It's a bear , Tink! A whole damn bear!"
The goblin gestured grandly towards the arena, just as the referee gave Broll the instruction to declare his choice of weapon for the fight - which in this case would be his own transformed teeth and claws. Broll was not especially known for his showmanship, but he was hardly one to deny an excited crowd their fun. His outline shimmered at the referee's command, and a second later his humanoid form had been entirely replaced by an enormous, hulking bear. Druidic runes shone against his rugged brown fur as he shook his massive shoulders, and he let out a triumphant bellow that was so thunderous as to shake the very floor beneath their feet.
"See! Bear!" Jax shouted. "When it comes to man versus bear, bet on bear!"
He clapped his hands together with an echoing crack, and soon had the entire crowd happily chanting "Bear! Bear! Bear!" It was so loud that Varian almost didn't hear the referee begin the countdown to the start of the match, though he caught the movement of the falling flag at the last second. He did not move immediately, however, instead very deliberately choosing to allow Broll to dictate the pace of the fight.
As Varian had expected, the big druid launched himself across the arena the moment the flag hit the floor, charging towards Auriana with a speed that belied his massive size. Broll's key advantage in a fight was his sheer bulk, and the bone-crushing strength of his paws. As the over-enthusiastic goblin announcer had rightly pointed out, if Broll managed to close in range, there were few opponents who would stand a chance of overpowering a bear . It was also standard practice for melee fighters when attempting to engage a spellcaster - get in close as fast as possible, keep them distracted, and prevent them from ever getting a spell off - and exactly what Varian had hoped he would attempt to do.
When Auriana had suggested that she fight with arcane magic instead of frost, Varian had initially been skeptical. He had never seen her use the arcane in combat, though she had insisted it would work well with their strategy. Arcane magic allowed her to warp and shift the flow of time, as well as to rapidly change her position in the arena, which in theory would prevent Broll from ever getting anywhere near her.
The moment Broll moved, Auriana threw a quick slowing spell in his direction, before instantly turning to Shandris and unleashing a barrage of bright purple arcane missiles. The Sentinel General reacted with lightning speed, diving to the side with feline grace, before rolling smoothly to her feet and unleashing a quick shot from her bow. The point of Auriana's attack was not really to cause the elf harm, however, but to force her to move to her left - and right into the path of Varian's waiting blades.
Just as they had planned.
He fell on Shandris in a flurry, smashing into the graceful night elf with a series of brutal overhead strikes. She was about half a foot taller than he, though Varian guessed he was heavier, and he intended to use his superior musculature to his advantage whenever possible. Like most night elves, Shandris was extremely quick and agile, and Varian knew that if he let up on her for even a second, he would lose her. She danced around him like water, expertly twisting her bow to catch his blades where they slashed at her body, while at the same time looking for any opportunity to outrange him.
Although Shandris currently occupied Varian's full attention, he was not at all worried about exposing his flank. He was confident that Auriana could keep Broll at bay while he dealt with Shandris; and indeed their entire plan hinged on her ability to push Broll out of the fight so that they could focus the full force of their effort on defeating Shandris. They would then be free to turn on Broll and fight him two versus one; a numerical advantage that almost guaranteed victory.
It was a difficult thing, Varian knew, for a mage to switch targets as rapidly as Auriana was now doing, but it seemed to be working. Every time Broll managed to get close, she either hamstrung him with a powerful slowing spell, or blinked clear away to the opposite side of the arena. She would then use that space to harass Shandris whenever she could, peppering the female elf with bolts of pure magic as sharp as needles.
Of course, alternating between targets while maintaining a constant barrage of spells meant that Auriana would fatigue more rapidly than she would have otherwise, but they had decided to gamble on their ability to take Shandris out of the fight long before she tired. Despite her size, Auriana had considerable stamina, and she showed no signs of slowing down as she led Broll on a merry chase across the arena.
Varian did not take his eyes off Shandris for a second, but he could tell his old friend was rapidly growing frustrated. Broll's once eager growls had grown low and irritated as he repeatedly tried and failed to catch the elusive Auriana - and Varian did not blame him in the slightest. In truth, their chosen strategy put Broll in an incredibly maddening position. In his bulky bear form, he lacked the speed necessary to chase down a mage who had the ability to blink across half the arena in the fraction of a second, but if he were to switch targets and pursue Varian, he would leave himself open to the full, uninhibited force of Auriana's magic.
In the end, however, Broll evidently decided that fighting Varian directly was worth the risk. He faked towards Auriana, forcing her to blink away, before switching direction at the last moment. Varian guessed he had four heartbeats worth of time before he was tackled by a bear, and it seemed that Shandris had come to the same conclusion. Her left foot shifted, turning inwards as prepared to leap backwards out of Broll's path, and in that moment Varian struck.
In their last few minutes of fighting, he had noticed that Shandris's leaps were not as quick or as powerful when she balanced off her left side. It was a small thing, perhaps a mere half a second difference, but to Varian, that was all the time in the world. He drove the point of his right hand sword hard into Shandris's foot, and the Sentinel gasped in sudden pain. Before she could react further, Varian smoothly continued his movement by lifting his right elbow and slamming it into her face. She stumbled back, her nose bleeding, but Varian did not relent. He immediately dropped his right sword, and used his free hand to grab her beneath the pit of her arm and hurl her roughly into the path of the oncoming bear.
Broll managed to miss ploughing headlong into his teammate, but it was a very near thing. He threw himself to the side at the last second; his massive claws digging deep furrows in the arena floor as he struggled to control his momentum. Shandris hit the ground hard, obviously dazed from the blow to her face, and fumbled desperately for her fallen bow.
She did not move fast enough.
Freed from the pressure of Broll's relentless pursuit, Auriana was now able to cast entirely unencumbered. Her hands had come alive with a blinding purple shimmer of arcane power, and indeed her entire body seemed to crackle with magical lighting as she unleashed on Shandris with full force. A relentless barrage of spells kept the night elf on her knees, allowing Varian enough time to recover the sword he had dropped, and to finish Shandris by brutally ripping both blades across her chest. Had they not been blunted, she would have been eviscerated.
Broll bellowed in fury as he saw his companion fall, and he quickly turned that rage upon Varian. A massive paw came flying at Varian's head from seemingly out of nowhere, and he was forced onto the back foot as his entire world became a veritable storm of slashing claws and snapping teeth. Up close, Broll was terrifying; the disadvantage of his relative slowness at range entirely mitigated by the sheer power of his bear form in the melee.
One could hardly blame a man for fleeing before such a furious display of nature's might, but Varian was not such a man. In actual fact, he was having the time of his life. He knew Broll's strengths and weaknesses almost as well as he knew his own, and the moment they came together he was transported back to their time sparring together in preparation for fighting in the Crimson Ring.
It had also been quite some time since he had fought with twin blades, and he realised how much he had missed the challenge of a dual wield strategy. Left hand cut, right hand thrust, slip, lunge, parry… the movements came to him as easily as breathing, and he happily lost himself in the rhythm of the fight - that is, until the crystal clear sound of Auriana's voice cut through his warrior's haze.
"Varian! Hold him!" she roared.
After dispatching Shandris, Auriana had evidently taken a brief moment to recoup her magical power, but had now returned to the fight in full force. She blinked across the arena to Broll's other side, and as she did, she made a rough slashing gesture across the midline of her stomach. To anyone else, such a signal might have been far too vague, but Varian understood his wife as clearly as if she had whispered an explanation in his ear.
He immediately disengaged, and feigned a dash to the side. Luckily, Broll took the bait and attempted to follow, driving most of his weight down onto his right side as he attempted to mimic Varian's hairpin turn. Varian anticipated the movement, and turned Broll's own momentum against him; ducking beneath a swiping paw and jumping high in the air so that he ended up half-straddling Broll's back on his right-hand side. He then slipped his blades beneath Broll's right foreleg at the shoulder, one sliding through on each side, and threw himself backwards with all his might.
If Broll had been standing still, he likely wouldn't have been moved. Given that he was already overbalanced on his right hand side, however, the addition of Varian's weight proved to be too much. They hit the arena floor hard, and Varian grunted as the force of the impact expelled the air from his lungs. He would pay for that later, he knew - another spectacular bruise to add to his growing collection - but right now, he had a job to do.
Varian tensed his muscles and hauled on Broll's leg as hard as he could, straining to resist his friend's colossal weight. The rune marks on his shoulders and the natural heaviness of his pelt both provided Broll with considerable protection, but like most animals, he was weaker at the belly. If Varian could hold him in place for long enough, splayed out on his side with his belly exposed and vulnerable, Auriana would be able to finish him off.
Broll quickly realised that he was in trouble, and he began to thrash mightily in an attempt to wrest himself free of Varian's iron grip. The screech of his claws against the arena floor was hair-raising, and it took all of Varian's strength to avoid being crushed. Indeed, his struggles were so violent that Varian was sure he had to have swallowed a decent amount of Broll's sweaty fur as he clung doggedly to the bear's back.
Fortunately, Varian did not have to endure for long. Auriana had moved the moment he and Broll had hit the ground, and saw a sudden flash of arcane lightning as she gathered her power for the second time. He grit his teeth and dug in, and a second later he felt his limbs thrill with reflected energy as Broll was hit by an incredibly powerful arcane barrage. With his belly exposed and his flailing limbs held in place by Varian, he had no recourse or defense, and in mere seconds, his spell shield had been burned away into nothing.
Varian released Broll from his grasp the moment the referee called the end of the match, though he did not immediately rise to his feet. He was sweat-soaked and covered in loose strands of bear fur, and for a moment he closed his eyes and simply lay back on the arena as he waited for his breathing to slow. Wrestling a bear was no easy task, even for a man of Varian's size and strength, and he decided he had more than earned a brief moment of rest.
"Well played, old friend. That was by far the most annoying duel I've ever fought."
Varian cracked open an eye to see Broll standing above him, having already resumed his normal humanoid appearance. He looked as sweaty and flushed as Varian felt, and Varian could tell that he was disappointed to have lost. Still, he was magnanimous in defeat, and he offered Varian a hand to help him back to his feet.
"I aim to please," Varian quipped, gratefully accepting his friend's assistance.
Once standing, he brushed a lock of damp hair out of his eyes, and spared a glance for the cheering crowd. He hadn't paid them much attention to them during the heat of the moment, but now that the fight was over, he realised just how damn loud they were. He raised a hand in acknowledgement, prompting another round of cheering, though he declined to engage in the kind of showboating that was popular with some of the other victorious contestants.
"That said, I'm fairly sure I'll be coughing up a hairball tomorrow," he added, grinning.
"Consider it the price of victory," Broll snorted. "You won't have it so easy in the rematch, you know."
"So you say. I very much look forward to beating you a second time," Varian quipped.
Broll laughed at that, though there was a slight edge to his smile that suggested he was not entirely speaking in jest. Varian had little opportunity to prod further, however, as they were all hurried out of the arena to make way for the next match. There was a tight schedule to keep, and doubtless the crowd would all but riot if they didn't get their fill of fighting.
Varian also had to be conscious of the time for his own sake. As fun as it was teasing Broll, he and Auriana had a break of only two matches before they would be called back to the arena for their third match of the day. There was not enough time to eat properly, though Varian quickly wolfed down a few hunks of bread to tide him over until the end of the day. For her part, Auriana declined to eat, claiming that it upset her stomach before a fight; instead drinking two mana pots to replenish her magical energy. Varian also took a moment to resecure the pieces of his armour that had been loosened during his tussle on the floor with Broll, and in no time at all he found himself back in the arena, preparing to face off against the twin rogues of Undercity.
Once again, he and Auriana were positioned on the other side of the arena from one another; Varian at the north gate and Auriana at the south. This time, however, they did not intend to allow their opponents the first move. Mages and other spellcasters were particularly vulnerable to sneak attack, given the relative paucity of their armour and the intense concentration that magic required. It was therefore almost assured that the rogues would strike first against Auriana, hoping to leverage the advantage afforded by their invisibility to quickly take her out of the fight. Together, she and Varian had developed a plan to counter the rogues' most likely strategy, though he knew that the match was going to be anything but predictable.
Auriana was the first off the mark, launching herself forward a mere half second after the referee had signalled the fight, and closing the distance between them in two rapid blinks. She did not so much as spare a glance for either of the two rogues as they each shimmered and vanished, so focused was she on getting to Varian. He, too, moved as fast as he was able, sprinting towards her with his sword and shield held high. They came together in the centre of the floor, each sliding to a halt at the very last second and coming around so that they were pressed firmly back-to-back.
It had been a long time since Varian had fought with a shield upon his arm. He typically preferred the more offensive nature of a greatsword or twin blades, though in this case their strategy required him to adopt a more defensive posture. His choice of the shield and their back-to-back position had been carefully chosen to limit the rogues' potential avenues for attack, and to allow Auriana time to enact her part of their plan.
Varian dropped into a half-crouch with his shield raised and at the ready, and he let out a soft grunt of acknowledgement as Auriana reached back to touch a guiding hand against his belt. She pressed against him like glue, and she easily mirrored his every movement as he peered around the arena in search of any sign of their opponents. Admittedly, he didn't expect to see the rogues move this early on in the fight, though he hoped they would show themselves soon. He much preferred a straight fight to the eerie silence of an inevitable ambush, and despite his best efforts, he was unable to prevent his fingers from twitching where they wrapped around the strap of his shield.
"Do it," he muttered, gently nudging Auriana with his elbow.
A rogue's chief advantage in a fight was the ability to appear invisible - after all, it was difficult to fight something you couldn't even see. They were swift, too, and almost soundless; trained to leave naught but the barest whispered hint of their presence. They had an uncanny way of appearing out of nowhere, and even a heavily armoured warrior or a powerful mage had to be careful not to let their guard down.
One thing rogues were not , however, was intangible. Despite their near preternatural ability to sneak around unseen, they still had to move across the ground like anyone else - a weakness that Auriana now fully intended to exploit. Her weight shifted as she raised her hands, and Varian felt the air around him cool as she called upon her frost magic. His heart beat once, then twice, and then the world around him exploded in blinding white as Auriana conjured a localised blizzard out of thin air.
They stood as one together, back-to-back in the eye of the storm; entirely untouched by the swirling ice and snow that raged all around them. Varian guessed that the blizzard was about forty feet across - not wide enough to cover the entire floor of the arena, but enough to provide them with a wide buffer zone for protection. Were the rogues to attack, they would be forced to step into the path of the blizzard, and thus reveal themselves wherever the driving snow touched them.
That said, he had no idea how long Auriana could maintain the spell, and he was hoping that the rogues had no idea, either. Rogues were typically patient fighters, striking only when conditions were absolutely right. Varian had heard stories of SI:7 agents who had waited, unseen for days before ambushing their targets; though in this case he was gambling on the fact that Sylvanas' rogues would grow impatient with the stalemate a little sooner.
Varian readjusted his grip on his shield, and squinted through the whipping white snow as he sought any sign of movement that might give the rogue's positioning away. The one key disadvantage of his and Auriana's plan was that it reduced visibility for them just as much as it inhibited their opponents, and it forced them to rely far more heavily on their other senses. Fortunately, aside from the sound of the storm, the air around the arena was quiet and still as the entire crowd collectively held their breath in anticipation of the inevitable fight.
The brush of cold against the exposed skin of Varian's face felt as real as if it were a natural storm, and the heat of his breath sent small spirals of steam swirling into the air. It took a great deal of control to keep his breathing steady when his entire body was singing with adrenaline and anticipation, but he was both well practiced and determined not to fail. In a fight like this, where strategy was far more important than brute strength or weapon skill, control was everything . If he moved too soon, if he flinched or left his flank open for even a second, the duel would be all over before it truly began.
It helped to have Auriana so close. Varian could have sworn he felt the faint, reassuring thrum of her heartbeat against his back, even through his armour, and he could just make out the soft rasp of her breath over the sound of the falling snow. Her breathing was slow and even, and perfectly synchronised with his own, though he could feel every muscle in her body corded as tightly as a coiled spring. He couldn't see her face, but he could perfectly picture the slight furrow of her brow and the ferocious intensity of her unblinking stare. She was remarkably focused and single-minded when it came to a fight, and there was no-one on Azeroth Varian would have rather had watching his flank.
After a few interminably long and tense minutes of silence, the back of Varian's neck suddenly prickled in warning, and his breath inadvertently hitched in his chest. His heartbeat accelerated, thundering in his ears, and his head snapped to the right as the slightest hint of movement caught his attention. The storm continued to rage the entire while, but within the driving snow he saw two wavering distortions - one straight ahead, and one off in the very corner of his right eye.
There you are...
The rogues struck at exactly the same time, coordinating their attack in a clever attempt to disorient Varian and Auriana and split them apart. The male Forsaken dove directly for Auriana, evidently deciding that his best bet was to charge her and hope that he could reach her before she noticed the disturbance in the blizzard. What he had not counted on, however, was Auriana's incredible reflexes. Varian had only just registered the rogue's movement himself when he felt her arm move against his side, and she hurled a wave of pure ice at the Forsaken's feet.
At the same time, the female rogue attacked Varian head on, flipping high into the air and slashing down at him with her twin daggers. To counter, he thrust his shield upwards at the last second, smashing into her ankles and using the force of her own momentum against her. She barely weighed anything, most of her flesh and muscle having long ago rotted away, and with the aid of his shield, Varian easily hurled her to one side.
Of course, the fact that the two rogues were now visible didn't make them any less dangerous. Auriana's quick, instinctive frost nova was only enough to hold the male rogue for a few seconds, and he came at her again the moment he was freed. His movements were unnaturally fluid, as if he were made of smoke, and he moved far more rapidly than his awkward, bony figure suggested that he could.
Varian could not let such an affront stand. He smoothly continued the arc of his shield through the air as he spun on the heel his left foot, before he bought it down and around Auriana's body and enveloped her in a literal wall of steel. Instead of the softness of flesh, the rogue's dagger found only the intractable hardness of the shield, and Varian was gratified to see a look of genuine surprise and annoyance flare in his yellowed eyes.
Hmph. You're not the only one who's faster than he looks, Varian thought grimly.
The rogue was also not one to dwell on his failure overlong, and he immediately disengaged. In response, Varian released Auriana from his protective embrace, though he did not move away from her side. He could tell that the Forsaken wanted him to give chase; wanted to bait him into stepping forward so that his companion could have free rein to attack Auriana, but despite what many may have thought, Varian was not so easily goaded.
Instead, he prowled around Auriana in a tight circle, never taking his eyes off the two rogues. The male had retreated to the northern wall of the arena, and was now pacing back and forth with his bony fingers clenched tightly around his daggers. Without the advantage afforded by his invisibility, he was forced to reconsider his hit-and-run strategy. The female had also regained her feet after her bone-rattling fall, though she was limping slightly on her right foot. Auriana had let her conjured blizzard fade away into nothing, the spell having more than served its purpose, and was now staring at the female rogue the way a wolf might stare at a wounded sheep.
Auriana suddenly struck without warning, launching a barrage of razor-sharp icicles at the female rogue. While the start of the match had been all about control, it seemed that she had decided it was more than past time to increase the tempo of the fight. In reality, it had barely been a minute since the rogues had launched their initial attacks, even though the restraint demanded by their strategy made it feel like hours. Varian itched to follow up on Auriana's magic with a devastating charge of his own, but he held back, knowing that any sign of hotheadedness would likely lose them the match - and as it turned out, it was a very good thing he did.
Sensing an opening, the male rogue dashed in, putting on an incredible show of speed as he leapt once again for Auriana's exposed flank. With her attention focused on her spellcasting she was vulnerable to melee assault… or would have been, at least, had Varian not been there to protect her. He once again met the rogue's lightning quick attack with the back of his shield; only this time, he did not intend to let the rogue disengage. Growling fiercely, he twisted his shield downwards so that one of the rogue's daggers was caught on its edge; his action forcing the Forsaken to choose between losing his weapon or being pulled off balance.
In the end, the rogue chose to relinquish his dagger, flipping back out of Varian's reach and swapping his remaining weapon to his dominant hand. With only one slender dagger now in his possession, it was unlikely he would be able to defend against Varian's broadsword, and so he finally made the decision to leap away from Auriana's side to give chase to the now-fleeing rogue. She seemed to have the female rogue very much on the run, and he figured that the sooner he finished the fight, the better.
Once again, Varian was surprised by the rogue's speed. It made no sense that creature of exposed bone and wasted sinew could run at all, let alone so quickly; but whatever strange magic it was that held the Forsaken together seemed to be an effective means of imitating genuine muscle. Weighed down as he was by his plate and his bulky shield, Varian found it difficult to keep up, and his heart leapt into his throat as the rogue abruptly changed direction and turned back on Auriana, seemingly gathering the shadows themselves around him as he ran.
It was a daring, clever move… and one that might have been successful, if not for Auriana's quick thinking. Varian's chase had given her enough space and time to work her magic unencumbered, and she spun to meet the charging male rogue the moment she saw him move. She flung one last debilitating frostbolt at the female rogue to keep her slowed, before sending an enormous orb of swirling ice and snow right into the path of the male.
To his credit, the rogue made a valiant attempt to dodge, but the spell was simply too fast and too wide. He took the full force of the spell head on; the relentless frost slowing him almost to a standstill and tearing away at his magical shield. Auriana then immediately blinked away to a safe distance, while Varian used the time she had bought to rapidly close back into melee range.
He slammed into the rogue in a fury, smashing him in the face with his shield to keep him disoriented, before slashing at his chest with the blunted blade of his sword. The rogue was skilled, however, and actually managed to slip between and around a few of Varian's strikes. That said, he could not hope to resist forever. He certainly could not hope to win without either his second dagger or the element of surprise, and after a brief back and forth, Varian finished him off with a powerful slash across what remained of his throat.
With her partner's defeat, the female rogue was more or less out of options, and she clearly knew it. She slunk around the edge of the arena like a cornered cat; the corner of her lip curling upward a frustrated sneer. Rogue tactics largely revolved around evasion techniques and an ability to get in and out of a fight as fast as possible, and it was clear that the female Forsaken was struggling to decide what to do now that all her advantages had been stripped away. She still made a genuine attempt to close in on Auriana, at least, much as her companion had done, but in the end she was simply beaten down by a veritable hailstorm of ice lances.
Varian let out a long sigh as the referee lifted his hand to formally award Stormwind the victory, though he did not immediately relax his fighting stance. A strange warning sensation lingered in the back of his mind, even after the rogues had surrendered their weapons and skulked out of the arena. No-one else appeared especially concerned, though he had learned a long time ago never to ignore his instincts.
Varian cast a wary eye over the crowd, but it was not the excited, happy faces of the spectators that abruptly caught his attention. Instead, his gaze fell upon Sylvanas Windrunner, sitting off to the side in the farthest left-hand corner of the stands. She was not alone; the seat on her right staunchly occupied by her dour faced bodyguard, Nathanos Blightcaller. No one else had dared to sit too close to the Banshee Queen, though whether it was because she had chosen a relatively poor vantage point, or because she radiated such an eerie and uncomfortable aura, Varian wasn't sure.
Perhaps it was a little of both.
Of course, it was not actually Sylvanas's choice of seating that concerned Varian, but rather the wrathful gleam in her blood red eyes. Even for someone who was permanently grim, she appeared to be especially unhappy. Her lips were drawn into a thin, disdainful line, and the slight flare of her nostrils hinted at a cold rage lurking beneath her otherwise icy expression.
It was not Varian who had attracted such attention, however, nor even the two defeated assassins. Rather, it was Auriana who had drawn the Dark Lady's eye, though she seemed quite unaware that she was under such intense scrutiny. As far as Varian knew, the two women had never met, and yet Sylvanas was staring at his wife as if she were responsible for every single misfortunate Sylvanas had ever suffered.
Strange...
Varian was well aware that the decision to hold the Tournament had not been universally popular, but there was something distinctly personal to the flavour of Sylvanas's ire that left a sour taste in his mouth. He did not openly react, though he stood a little closer to Auriana's side as they exited the arena, and he made a mental note to double the guard outside their tent that night. He had no idea what might have piqued the Banshee Queen… her rogue's defeat, the way the spectators had lavished their attention on Auriana, the very Tournament itself… but whatever the reason was, he knew for certain that he didn't like it one bit...
