9 – Curiosity And The Cat

Sa'themar was a man whose proclivity for perfection looked well beyond his own specialisation. He knew that his ranks would benefit greatly from other skilled individuals.

Thanks to his time served in the Troll Wars alongside Bel'ovir Salonar he learned much about the prestigious magic wielders and how decisive their involvement was in the war effort.

After the War of the Ancients, it was deigned the use of the arcane arts - the magnet for the Burning Legion - was outlawed. The penalty for use of the magic was death. The number of rioters against this decision, however, was sufficient enough to have meant a severe depletion of the elven nation.

Arch-Druid, Malfurion Stormrage, could not agree to the death of so many of his people and so he banished them from a broken Kalimdor. Amongst them, a young Sa'themar travelled with his parents and younger siblings.

Their journey across the seas brought them to Azeroth where attempts to establish a new home was met with resistance from the resident Troll nation. Sa'themar was astounded at the fierceness of these people. He and his fellow warriors, rangers and mages were continually on alert for sporadic attacks by Troll war parties.

At that time, a scattered population of humans had banded together as they too were fighting the Trolls further to the south. Led by a formidable chieftain, Thoradin, the humans fought valiantly against the savage adversaries but had had very little contact with the elven magic-wielders. As the years passed, the human nation of Arathor grew and became an impressive force as it continued the battle against the tusked rivals.

Meanwhile, the elven king, Anasterian Sunstrider, saw his people nearing defeat having undergone years of attack by the Trolls. He decided to approach the now strong human armies to ask for their assistance against a common enemy. It was much to the relief of the exhausted defenders as their resolve was depleting, Sa'themar's included.

Thoradin was prudent enough to realise the implications of letting the elven nation fall and so agreed to an alliance with the condition that their sorcerers taught one hundred humans to wield the arcane magic while the armies massed to join the war against the enemy.

Initial reservations of the elves' inclusion in the wars stemmed from their often questionable treatment of the humans as well as that of the Trolls. The fight against the adversaries, however, had escalated to an extremely brutal confrontation which lasted for days in the Alterac Mountains and numbers needed to be strengthened.

Thoradin finally agreed with the elven masters to let the mages, both human and elven unleash their magic upon the Trolls. This decision proved to be the turning point in the war.

Their magical deluge opened the way for warriors and rogues to slaughter the enemy, which they did with newfound, fierce resolve. They drove the enemy back, decimating the Troll empire.

Therein, friendship between Sa'themar and Bel'ovir developed with a profound mutual respect for each of their specialist abilities. The realisation that both benefited greatly from each soon enabled Sa'themar to devise better tactics within his group of fighters. It was not long therefore, before others looked towards him for leadership.

Now understanding essential elements provided by his magical kinsmen, Sa'themar also employed the mages' teleporting services, enabling his troops to travel seamlessly to targeted destinations. Their ability to portal them in a swift and silent manner to places they needed to be had proved more than advantageous on many an occasion. They could also provide timeous salvation by porting everyone beyond the lines of any overwhelming contingency.

Not only that, but his predilection for individuals with a leaning towards an exorbitant talent in theurgy ensured the mages who worked for him were amongst the best there were - outside of the exceptional magi in the city of Dalaran and Quel'Danas.

For the welfare of his rogues also, he enlisted priests, healers who would stay within the boundaries of the group so they themselves could be protected. He had seen many a healer taken down by over-zealous fighters whose focus was to prevent their adversaries from being revitalised. So his troupe were split into pockets of protectors and those who battled the enemy or infiltrated antagonists camps. It had worked well although inevitably, there were still injuries.

And now, as they all poured through a portal to the Blackened Woods, Sa'themar gathered his colleagues close. He had his dozen rogues, two battle mages and a priest.

They were close to the Troll province of Zul'Aman. Dotted around at the base of Amani Pass and all the way along the eastern side of Lake Elrendar were various huts which numerous Trolls lived and worked around. Although the elves and humans had been successful against the aggressors in years gone by, battles still continued and the loathing between the two races had never ceased.

Their persistent savage attacks over the years on the northern elven settlement of Quel'thalas had been bothersome, to say the least, but the real problem had arisen when one of the fiercest forest trolls, going by the name of Zul'jin, had unified some of the contentious tribes in and around Zul'aman with the intention of amassing an enormous and truculent war party.

His notorious hatred of the High Elves was the driving force behind the unification and it had been rumoured he intended to unite all tribes to wage a massive attack on the elven nation and wipe out the High Elves once and for all. The Second War, thankfully, had scuppered his plans when he was finally captured by the humans and incarcerated. But, the war was not over yet.

Perhaps it was Jarod's warning which had the troupe unsettled, but Sa'themar decided he was taking no chances. Turning to Brett, he instructed him to send word back to headquarters. He wanted more bodies out here – just in case. Brett was to go with Alaen, one of the young battle mages, and the second-in-command was to personally select the team most suited for a potential battle with Trolls.

He also told him to check reports from the rogues' network, which was an extensive channel used to shuttle information back and forth between many of the allied guilds. The Blades would reconvene at this very spot in an hour.

With Brett and Alaen gone, the troupe were divided. They would not be idle though. Sa'themar set them to work. He wanted them only to use their ears and eyes and find out if there was any truth in Jarod's words. "Be diligent," he warned. "We only want information at this time."

He assigned one rogue to guard the remaining battle mage and priest, the others split into pairs and proceeded with caution towards Zul'Aman.

Brett and Alaen portalled into the courtyard. Numerous heads turned as they stepped through the watery centre.

"Couldn't you have at least taken us to the missions room?" Brett said, his voice laced with incredulity.

The mage stared at the rogue as if not quite understanding what he had heard. "And what, exactly, is the matter with this location?" A haughty look adorned his youthful, handsome face.

"Well..." Brett said in a heated whisper. "For one thing all the students are gaping wondering what's going on. We don't want them worried about anything."

Alaen made a show of looking around. With a dismissive wave of his hand, he shrugged. "They do not look too perturbed to me, merely curious."

Brett huffed. "Well, you know what curiosity did to the cat!"

"Yes," Alaen replied suddenly fascinated by his fingernails. "It learned something of great importance..." He glanced back up at Brett whose furrowed brow implied he was lost for a response.

Alaen grinned then his eyes caught sight of several individuals coming their way. "It seems my intellectual choice of location has also saved you considerable time gathering the troops." Another flamboyant hand gesture made Brett turn to look behind him.

The rogue had no choice but to admit defeat. "Alright, you win this one, little mage."

Alaen smirked once more. He did so enjoy banter with Brett Hornsby especially when he won an argument or a difference of opinion went in his favour.

Brett grinned back at the High Elf then turned his attention to the approaching group. Nodding greetings to them he then led the way to the missions room.

Crossing the courtyard he caught sight of Don with two others. One was a pageboy by the name of Thomas and another boy, whom he recognised as a new recruit but could not remember his name. They were engaged in some sort of gossip by the looks of things.

As the group of rogues neared the main turret, Brett heard Don goading the young pageboy. Although he was not actually tormenting him, he kept at him for something. Brett signalled for his fellow rogues to go ahead then he veered off to see what was going on with Don and the pageboy. Thomas was an innocent wee soul and he looked a little uncomfortable. This will only take a minute, Brett thought to himself.

Thomas' eyes widened as he saw Brett striding over. Don remained oblivious, caught up in his teasing of the young boy. "C'mon! You can tell me. I'm his best friend."

Thomas shook his head, refusing to utter a word.

"Why are you so scared of him? Do you think he will hurt you if you tell?"

"N – no!" Thomas stammered, wide-eyed. It had not been a consideration until Don mentioned it.

"Then come on! Who wanted to see him? Tell me, or..."

"What's going on here?" Brett's voice caused Don and the new trainee to jump. Even Thomas fidgeted for all he had seen him coming over.

Don spun round. His face bore the expression of one who had been caught out. His mouth fell open and then slapped audibly shut.

Brett eyed the other boy who glanced away, trying to stifle a grin. "What's your name?" he demanded.

The boy instantly straightened. "Reed, sir. Reed Hale."

"Right then, both of you, git, and do some chores."

Don and Reed turned and started moving away. "And tell Sauren to do something useful as well, he isn't getting to sit on his arse neither." The boys broke into a jog. "And I'll be checking up on you all!" At that, the two scoundrels broke into a run towards the tower that housed Sauren's rooms.

Brett turned back to face Thomas, who, for a fleeting moment, looked relieved until he saw the questioning eyes of the rogue standing over him. Brett felt rather protective of the boy; he was a sweet wee lad. Hooking his thumbs in his belt, Brett smiled down at him. "Well?"

"Y – yes, sir, Mr Hornsby?" The squeak of a voice told Brett the boy was almost shitting his pants.

For some inexplicable reason, Brett likened the boy to a kitten, its innocent eyes growing larger with trepidation. Omitting a deep sigh, he tried to look less intimidating. Slumping his shoulders he kneeled down in front of Thomas, resting his forearm on bended knee. "They won't bother you again lad, you have my word."

Thomas hesitantly nodded and eventually managed a tiny smile.

"Is there anything I need to know? I heard that Sauren had a visitor, should I be concerned?"

Thomas' brow furrowed and he glanced at his feet before making eye-contact with Brett again. "I don't think so, sir, Mr Hornsby." Then, as if to confirm, the boy said a clear and concise, "No, sir."

Brett held the boy's gaze for a few moments then reached out and ruffled his hair. "Okay lad. Off you go."

The boy didn't need any further encouragement – he was off, heading for the kitchens.

Pushing himself up Brett turned and looked back at the tower. Just at the doorway, the two older boys stood watching the elites entering the turret where the all-important missions room was located. All Brett needed to do was tilt his head and scowl, then they too were off, bounding up the stairs towards Sauren's rooms.

Laughing lightly to himself, he proceeded towards the missions room to join his colleagues. It was time for more serious matters.

Distantly, the sound of persistent knocking bled into Sauren's exhausted anamnesis. He moaned and flexing his back and shoulders the muscular clicks and cricks sounded dully in his ears. Settling once more, he felt the lure of sleep beckoning him again.

The knocking continued. His lips parted and a slightly irritable grunt tumbled out.

Knock, knock, knock.

His brow furrowed. He was fighting wakefulness, his body felt drained, heavy – and slightly sore. The mahogany eyes flitted under the deep lids.

Knock, knock ...KNOCK!

Then the scent hit him; a salty, yet tangy smell, mixed with – strawberries? His tongue passed lazily across his lips. He could taste it too! It was – erotic. Like a serpent to a snake charmers flute, he was summoned from the world of slumber and his eyes slowly peeled open.

His attempt to stretch met with some resistance. He turned his head to the left.

A mass of blonde hair was spread over the pillows and its owner was lying snuggled against his shoulder. Leola sighed and shifted slightly in her sleep, an arm draping over Sauren's chest. He grinned. He was instantly aware of her full breasts pressing against him. Such bliss!

Another mewl came from his right. There Maya lay curled against him. He could feel her breath against his skin as she breathed softly. Her legs were tangled with his and her left hand was resting between his legs. Her fingers flexed a little as his body was quick to respond when the memory of the past few hours flooded his mind.

The knocking persisted. His pleasurable memories melted, promptly replaced by agitation.

"Wh –whuu, izh it!" he managed, although it barely sounded like proper speech.

"Sauren! It's Don. And Reed."

"Hmmm..." Talking for some reason was proving a little difficult. "Go...away!"

"I'm coming in!" The loud thud of a wooden door hitting the wall sounded from the outer room. Heavy footfalls followed, hurrying towards the bedchamber.

Sauren groaned as his bed-mates started to stir. He pressed his palms on the mattress and slowly pushed himself up until his back leaned against the headboard. Leola's hand slid down from his chest and landed on top of Maya's which had not surrendered its position for all the half-elf had shifted considerably.

Both women turned their sleepy eyes towards the young half-elf. He smiled warmly. "Send him away," Leola whispered. "We have not finished with you yet."

Maya cooed, tracing her fingertips over his newly awakened arousal. "And neither have you with us it seems," she sighed. Again, Sauren groaned. Life at that precise moment was looking very good indeed.

"Are you alri..." Don skidded to a halt as he leapt up the two steps which led into the bedchamber. His eyes were wide when he saw the two women curled around his friend. "Oh!" His voiced dwindled, and his mouth remained agape.

There was no denying the look of envy which crossed Don's face. Sauren grinned, smug. His perfect teeth then beamed into view as he saw the curious face of Reed Hale appear behind Don's shoulder.

He felt incredibly superior and was going to relish the moment. "This had better be important!" Maya's teasing fingers under the blankets made it difficult for him to sound as authoritative as intended, but the gobsmacked boys at the doorway didn't seem to notice the tremor in the half-elf's voice. They were still looking at the beautiful women who purred and cooed beside their friend.

"Huh?" Don managed.

Sauren's arms curled around the women's shoulders. He brushed his lips against Maya's brow and in a pained whisper, begged, "Stop. Please."

She withdrew her hand. Leola followed suit. Once more the mahogany eyes focused on the intruders. "Tell me what is so important that you burst into my chambers." This time there was an edge to his voice.

"Forgive me, Sauren..." Don finally paid attention to the young master. "Something is amiss."

Sauren sat forward. "With what, exactly?"

Reed peered around Don's arm. His focus was still on the two beauties in the bed beside Sauren. He was no virgin himself, but his conquests had never been with such exquisite women – merely a farmer's daughter and a scullery maid - and never at the same time.

"Reed!" Sauren's reprimanding tone was sharp.

The young man immediately looked to Sauren. He held the half-elf's gaze and in that instant, knew this was not one to trifle with. He bowed his head apologetically.

Don continued to tell Sauren about Brett's return and how the remainder of the elites had all congregated in the missions room.

The half-elf held up a hand, preventing Don from saying anything more. He sat for a moment, his head bowed, the platinum hair like a curtain over his face. Moments passed then with a heavy sigh, he lifted his eyes to the two boys. "Gentlemen," he said quietly. "Please move through to the other room."

With slightly robotic bows, they acquiesced.

Two pairs of hands then travelled over the half-elf's chest and shoulders. Cherry lips pressed against his neck and earlobes. The temptation was almost too must to resist, but he had his interest peaked in an entirely different direction now. "Ladies," he said in a husky voice. "You have been a delight in every way possible, but I must ask you to leave now."

Both women sounded their disappointment, their fingers trying to coax him into changing his mind. But he resisted. Something in his eyes told the women he was serious.

Leola breathed in his ear. "You have been a pleasure, master Sauren. Perhaps we can sate your hunger another day?"

He smiled, the perfect teeth on full display. "Oh, I am counting on it," he replied then pulling her to him he kissed her fully on the mouth. He repeated the gesture to a pawing Maya.

Two pairs of eyes watched through the door frame gap as the two women then rose from the bed and began to dress. "Lucky bastard!" Don whispered.

"Yes," Reed agreed readily.

Sauren rose last, his cupidity still noticeably present. Maya reached up on tiptoes to kiss the half-elf and the two boys witnessed her caress him below. Sauren laughed and pulled quickly away wrapping his robe around his person. "You are very naughty, Maya," he said softly. She laughed.

Leola then shared one last kiss with him before the two women sashayed out of the bedchamber, skirts rustling and bosoms heaving. They gave knowing smiles to the two avid onlookers.

Sauren escorted them to the door. "Goodbye, ladies."

"Until next time," Leola said. The door closed.

When he turned to face Don and Reed, there was no evidence in his face of the hours of pleasure he had just shared with the two beauties. In its place was a determination, a new hunger. The kind Don was more familiar with. The sharp, keen edge of a highly attuned gambit had now possessed the half-elf's imagination.

"What are you going to do?" Don asked him as he followed him into the bedchamber again.

Ignoring the awkward looks on Don and Reed's faces, Sauren cast his robe over his bed and wandered over to the large wardrobe. His nakedness bothered him not and choosing a pair of fresh britches from within he pulled them on. "I'm going to find out what's going on," he smirked. Next, he pushed his arms through a loose fitting shirt and tucked it into the waistband of his britches.

"What do you want us to do then?"

Sauren sat back down on his bed and reached for one of his boots. He looked up at Reed. Studying the new recruit he slowly pulled on the boot. "You are on board?" he asked picking up his other one.

"Yes," Reed replied. "You can count on me."

Standing up, Sauren lightly stamped his feet ensuring the boots were comfortable and straightened the waistband of the britches. "We will see about that then, won't we?" He eyed Reed again.

"Ask what you will," Reed said in a slightly contumacious tone.

Sauren's eyes flashed dangerously. Then with a mocking grin, he asked, "What time is it?"

"I – I don't know exactly," Reed stumbled.

Sauren looked questioningly at Don.

"Early evening. Supper will be in... say an hour, maybe two?"

Sauren nodded. "Good. Then you two will get me something to eat." He waited to see the stunned expressions on their faces before pushing past. He pulled his hair back in a ponytail and secured it with a leather thong as he strode to the door.

"Are you serious?" Don called after him.

He turned to face his deflated right and left-hand men. "Well, yes!" He smirked. "I have had a great deal of exercise this afternoon and built up a mighty appetite. So humour me! I will find you in the dining hall in approximately one hour."

Leaving them stupefied, Sauren then hurried down the stairs, laughing to himself. His mood was buoyant, no doubt as a result of the Queen's "gift", but he was also eager to learn what was going on with the elites.

He had suspected something important was afoot when he heard his father had left the compound, along with Brett, but for the second-in-command to return hours later and hold a meeting in the missions room, it had to be potentially critical. His father was not one to habitually under-estimate the numbers needed for a mission and so this occurrence suggested an interesting development. Sauren, being of keen mind, was always on the hunt for more knowledge on the workings of the world and indeed the Guild.

He knew better than to cockily walk into the missions room. Brett would simply have him leave being of the opinion he was still an untrained boy whose nose was prone to poke in areas which did not involve him.

The young Nightflame had familiarised himself with the complex, however, even before his father had acquired it. He knew all secret passages and crawl spaces. The missions room had not one but two entrances to it from the library, one of which Sauren was fairly certain remained undetected by his elders.

With little effort, he melded with his surroundings becoming invisible to the un-enquiring eye. He slipped into the library and crossed the vast room. There were still piles and boxes of books, scrolls and maps waiting to be put in their rightful places.

As he bounded over the more obstructive piles he deduced it would also be included in the chores he would be assigned to help with. Not that he minded actually, he loved literature and the power to be gained from the knowledge within pages was too tempting to ignore. Neither was he averse to work of any kind. Apart from cooking - that was Don and Reed's forte, he grinned as he remembered their vanquished expressions.

He reached the recess in which the secret entrance lay. Running his slender fingers under the dado rail he moaned with satisfaction as he heard the giveaway click of the lock opening. He pushed against it and a partition slid to the right. With a furtive look behind to check there was still no-one else around, he then squeezed his way in behind the panel and drew the door closed.

The way ahead was murky, hanging with cobwebs and dust-bunnies but he could see slivers of light passing through small gaps in the wall up ahead. They were in fact, spy-holes. The original construction of the buildings had obviously been devised by the notoriously paranoid nobility, much to Sauren's delight. He loved the secrets the complex held, it was so like the family home he had grown up in.

The sound of scurrying feet alerted him to one or two rodents in the vicinity - no surprise there and it could well prove to be to his advantage should he inadvertently make noise himself. The furry creatures were common enough that people turned a blind eye, or indeed a deaf ear to sounds within the walls.

He could make out voices from the missions room, Brett's voice being the one that carried the most. He crouched as he reached the ideal viewpoint and with one mahogany eye pressed against the spy-hole he then settled to hear what was going on.

"He has been rescued?" Brett asked one of the rogues.

"So word has it through the network and if indeed it is true..."

"The network has never proven false before," another voiced.

"Nevertheless, if it is true, he will undoubtedly forge ahead unifying the tribes with the full intention of an all-out massacre."

Sauren shifted slightly as he swatted a spider from his cheek. His mind was trying to fathom who exactly they were talking about.

Brett took over. "There is also talk of an orc warlock being involved. Commander Shadowsong has advised us that this Gul'dan has been creating foul creatures, regenerating dead soldiers and imbuing them with magic powers which makes them insanely powerful. If any of us fall in their wake, we will be resurrected as one of these abominations. The Commander also hinted that it was possible the warlock may betray even the Horde."

Silence befell the group for a few moments, then one of them spoke up. "If this orc transforms the Trolls in such a way, then we are in for a desperate fight indeed."

Sauren was intrigued. Certainly, he had not had the misfortune to run up against a Troll, but he had studied them to a degree through various books and listening to stories his father used to tell him when he was a small boy. They were undoubtedly fierce warriors, and very much sworn enemies of the High Elves.

This orc they mentioned was also interesting. He had mastered necromancy, a foul magic, which Sauren suspected may not even sit well with the Trolls as it violated their Loa.*

"We must reconvene with Sa'themar just beyond the Amani Pass. It is territory some of you will not have set foot on before. It is dark, foreboding and harbours many other threats as well as the Trolls. This is initially surveillance, but if the need arises, we may have to fight and it will be bloody. Be wary, be vigilant and do not take unnecessary risks! Now collect your weapons, your poisons and let's go."

Sauren watched as they all started to file out of the room. Brett advised Alaen to ask another mage and two of the Priests who often offered their services to the troupe to accompany them also.

Brett was last to move towards the door, but something stopped him in his tracks. Sauren held his breath as he observed the second-in-command's eyes scan the room. Had he sensed they were being watched, he wondered? Brett stared directly at the wall behind which the platinum-haired half-elf stood rigid for all he had remained concealed in shadow.

Alaen appeared back beside the human rogue, his face bearing a questioning look. "Something wrong?" he asked.

Brett remained as he was for a few moments more then huffed and looked at the mage. "Just a strange sense there's a cat exercising its curiosity," he said.

Alaen glanced around the room and shrugged. "Or merely an old man's paranoia."

Brett fought a grin before laughing out loud. "You're probably right." They left the room.

Sauren slowly exhaled. Brett may be old, but he was still a shrewd and perceptive rogue.

*Loa - the beings Trolls worship; their religion