16 - I Am What I Am
The rogues and Farstriders stayed no longer than they had to in the burnt and bloodied landscape at Darrowmere lake. Sa'themar had his mages portal them all to Silvermoon City where word reached the Ranger-General that the company of Farstriders had returned. Arrangements were made with other priests and magi to bring the dead to Silvermoon as well. There they would be reunited with their families before receiving the traditional and honourable exequies.
Those who survived would also be given some time to heal properly, regain some strength before returning to their duties. As for the rogues, if at all possible they would also have a little relaxation before heading back to headquarters.
Some of the Blades had never visited Silvermoon before and they absorbed its beauty with awe as they walked through the Walk of Elders and on towards the Royal Exchange.
The city bespoke the nature of high elf society in its grandeur; its vibrant colours, the wide walkways, cultivated gardens, singing fountains and pristine architecture. Suspended over the streets, red and gold banners heralding the phoenix emblem rippled and snapped taut in the breeze.
Enormous statues stood sentinel at sheltered junctions separating the city's districts. Eyes rose to the stone-armoured figure of Dath'Remar Sunstrider as they entered the junction which opened to the Royal Exchange. Even for those who were not overly familiar with the elves' history, there was no denying the figure of the first King in the Sunstrider dynasty was the embodiment of a man who had once possessed immense power, nobility and foresight.
Sa'themar noted the awe-struck troupe and obliged by telling them a little about the man who led his people to the shores of Lordaeron.
Strangely, for all he hailed from a wealthy and powerful Highborne family, Dath'Remar was markedly different from his night elven brethren. For one, the night elves were a nocturnal people, worshipping the deity Elune (Moon) and the Sunstrider family name, which in itself was odd, literally meant "He Who Walks The Day" in Darnassian. Secondly, his auburn hair bore streaks of gold, again more in keeping with Belore (Sun).
Banished from their native land due to their heavy dependency on arcane energies (plus an unfortunate display of power gone awry in Ashenvale, Kalimdor) and after many years at sea, they landed upon the shores of what would become known as Lordaeron.
Initially, they settled in Tirisfal Glades, but that settlement was stricken with strange maladies and madness. It was believed something ancient and evil slumbered deep in the bowels of the land and this somehow had affected the well-being of the elves.
As the years passed, the general appearance of the high elves became more removed from their night elven kin. This was due mainly to the absence of the Well of Eternity, their life-giving force for eons. The basic physical attributes of tapered ears, elongated eyebrows remained. However, a slight reduction in their height ensued and their colouring waned from the inherited violet hue of their moon-worshipping relations.
Dath'Remar had no option but to move his people on and he established a foothold within the northern troll-dominated lands. There he discovered ley energies which offered the promise of a more familiar habitat.
Battling with the native trolls, they finally reached the northernmost tip of the lands and there, Dath'Remar and his elves created the Sunwell. Finally, a mystical font derived from a stolen vial which contained waters from the original Well of Eternity would replenish their strength and vigour.
Sa'themar grinned at his rapt audience and finished with a flourish. "And here ends today's lesson." He was answered by a few impressed mumbles.
Moving on through the Royal Exchange, the human and dwarf contingent of rogues were looked upon by the city-dwellers with a haughty indifference. Seldom had such individuals set foot in the Jewel of The North, as some referred to Silvermoon, but it was understood that they were allies, albeit not to everyone's affinity.
Nearing another junction, Lina suddenly halted and turned to face Sa'themar. Yathas seemed somewhat embarrassed and remained a step behind his wife. The guild leader looked questioningly at Lina.
"I have a confession to make," she whispered.
Sa'themar glanced at Yathas. From his apologetic expression, it was plain to see this was a delicate matter. Sa'themar signalled to the others to stay put and he moved a few yards away with the Firefurys. His azure eyes held concern for the woman who by all accounts was becoming more uncomfortable by the second. "What is the matter?" he asked gently.
This was so unlike Lina. There was a lugubrious attempt at a smile as she turned her eyes toward him. "We – want to visit our children," she said.
Sa'themar smiled, relieved that was all which concerned her. "Well, of course, you do! I would have been surprised if you did not. I look forward to meeting them," he beamed.
Once more she hung her head. Sa'themar was perplexed, he simply did not understand the problem. He looked to Yathas, finding Lina's awkwardness unfathomable. The man stood forward, taking his wife's hand as he did so. "Our children do not know what we do," he offered. "We have spun a yarn that we are tanners. I am supposed to have a shop in Capital City."
Sa'themar stumbled back but quickly corrected his footing. He had never heard the likes of this before. "They have no idea you are rogues?" he asked, incredulous.
"No." Yathas confirmed.
Sa'themar looked at them both, still at a loss. "But why? And how? I mean, how can you keep such a thing secret?" Yathas was about to re-iterate the tanner cover-story, but the guild leader dismissed it with a wave of his hand. "Apart from the shop!"
Lina met his eyes. "I do not wish my children to think of me as a murderer. I do not want to have to explain why I took someone's life."
The other rogues looked on with interest but, thankfully, were well out of earshot. The guild master gave them a quick look, his eyes lingering only on Brett, whose reticent features subtly indicated he was aware of the situation. Sa'themar sighed heavily and looked back at the Firefurys. "We are at war, Lina," he tried to reason. "Many of us, and I am not just talking rogues, have to kill or be killed. It is survival we fight for."
"I am talking outwith war, Sa'themar!" Lina's eyes flashed. "How do you explain to a four-year-old girl that mummy and daddy kill people for a living?"
Still, her rationale was bewildering. He opened his mouth to speak again but the woman silenced him. "I do not question how you bring up Sauren, please do not analyse my methods of raising my children."
It was a rare occasion indeed when the guild master was lost for a response. After a few moments' awkward silence, he stepped back. "Go then," he said gesturing they depart. "Spend time with your young ones. I will send Alaen to let you know when we return to - the shop." He made to move away.
"Please!" Yathas stammered. Sa'themar turned to meet the rogue's remorseful eyes. "We do not mean any offence. We are proud to be Blades."
The guild master stood, hands behind his back, swaying a little on the balls of his feet, his leather armour creaking as he moved. He managed a furtive smile and turned once more to rejoin the rest of his troupe.
"You are most welcome to meet our children, Sa'themar, but they cannot know..." Lina said moving forward so she did not have to raise her voice.
Once more Sa'themar halted. Turning askance, he answered from behind the curtain of hair which slid over his shoulder and concealed his face. "Thank you, but, I am what I am, Lina. I cannot pretend to be anything else." He heard a small gasp escape her. He moved on and marched away with his troupe.
On a small balcony, above Murder Row, Sa'themar Nightflame sat alone. His azure eyes were set on the western horizon, watching Belore's jewels dancing on the sea's surface as she cast her final blessings for the day. The heavy scent of Sin'Cierbita, Blood Thistle, rose in the air. The aroma was oddly more potent at sunset when the flower's crimson petals slowly changed to black with the fading light.
He had almost forgotten how beautiful the city was, particularly at this time of day. A soft smile played on his lips as he drank in the warm colours of the sun's rays. Strange to think he used to watch them from the cliffs, imagining they stretched across the waters to share one last kiss with the shore before the veil of night cloaked everything in shadow.
He was suddenly steeped in nostalgia remembering his youth when he would dart around the city with his friends. The tricks they used to play on each other, as well as the community, were a source of great amusement; harmless pranks but at the immense annoyance of many citizens. The swapping of garments for example, on neighbours' washing lines, or stealing them altogether; the sabotaging of market carts so the wheels fell off when traders started to move out – apples, oranges or bolts of multi-coloured fabrics all rolling along the walkways. He and his friends would then offer to help and the traders would grudgingly offer some coin as a thank you for coming to their aid while glaring distrustfully at the youngsters. They were, after all, suspected as the culprits, but it was never proven.
He smiled a little more as he remembered stealing kisses from young women who they went about their daily chores, utterly oblivious that he and his friends were there. The look of indignation on some and the odd one or two who blushed furiously, their eyes darting trying to see who dared be so bold. Some of his friends met their future wives that way.
He laughed lightly to himself, thinking a lot of people were relieved when his brothers and sister moved away. It was three Nightflames less to worry about, but he missed them back then. Sadly, as time went on, communication dwindled until he wondered if they were still alive. In later years, thanks to rogue networks, he found out they were, but they preferred to revel in their new lives and leave their past one well and truly behind.
The only one remaining at home and with the unrelenting battles against the trolls he had no choice but to fight and so he learned the way of the rogue. Thanks to skulking around the city for years he was well versed in the agility and cunning it took to be a shadow. He learned quickly and he rose through the ranks with ease, finding others were more than willing to follow his lead.
A gentle breeze played with his long silver hair, the tails floating and rippling before settling once more, draping over his shoulder. A few stray strands settled on the crease of his lips. He swept them aside with fingers too elegant to belong a rogue. His eyes settled on his knuckles, then spreading his fingers he suddenly noted Sauren had inherited the very same hands. He cocked an eyebrow at such a random thought.
His leather armour creaked as he reached for the goblet which sat atop the stone balustrade. The wine swirled around the glass, creating a thin glossy membrane in its beautiful burgundy colour. He stared at it a few moments then swallowed a draught, its rich flavour coating his tongue and throat. Sitting back, his platinum mane swept over the back of the latticed chair just dusting the stone floor. Closing his eyes he savoured the wine.
He was glad he had decided to remain a little longer in Silvermoon than was really necessary. Some of his troupe were keen to spend time with their families and friends and it was not something he wished to deny them.
The humans and dwarves in the group had been welcomed well enough by the innkeeper and they sat downstairs enjoying the roasted fare and full-bodied wines. Their laughter rippled up the stairs assuring the guild leader they were relaxed and enjoying their time in the city.
He mulled over the last two day's events. He could not deny he was seriously irked that Zul'jin had escaped his just deserts yet again. It would have been much simpler had the young Lieutenant possessed the gumption to slit the troll's throat when he came across him. Still, he sighed not much point in dwelling over the man's foolishness. What's done is done. He refused to ponder over it, there was no point.
Thus his thoughts turned to the Firefurys and their strange desire to keep their lives secret from their children. All he knew of their children were their names; Duthan, destined to join the Farstriders, Inaris who according to his parents showed an affinity for sorcery, so no doubt he would practice either the ways of the mage or warlock. And a girl, Tiene - four years of age and already as feisty as her mother, or so Sa'themar had been informed. He grinned.
There was no denying they were a close family. Lina's eyes beamed when she spoke of her children and Yathas spoke proudly of them all, recounting things they had achieved - or destroyed, as in one case of misfired sorcery from the junior warlock in the family.
The hour was getting late and he imagined the little girl would be asleep by now. The young men would likely be relating all that had been happening in the city the past few days, bringing their parents up to speed with the latest news.
Sa'themar knew the Firefury's had a governess who had looked after the children in their absence, but still, he also saw the look of longing in Lina's eyes. She wanted to be home with her children, even more so since she had Tiene. Sa'themar suspected he would lose one if not two of the best rogues he had ever had the privilege to work with.
"You still moping about what Lina said?"
The guild master had been so deep in thought his right-hand man took him completely by surprise. Brett laughed as he witnessed Sa'themar flinch at the intrusion.
"I was not moping, as you put it," Sa'themar finally offered once Brett leaned against the balcony facing him.
"Oh, really?" the human rogue insinuated. He lifted his goblet to his lips.
"Yes. Really." Sa'themar put his goblet down on the balustrade, throwing a sideways look at Brett as he did so. "Alright!" he admitted. "I guess I was a little - surprised." He swept his hair over his shoulder. "I could tell you already knew."
Brett grinned. "Yes, I knew. Yathas is a very close friend, has been for many years."
The guild master nodded. He was quiet for a few minutes before he ventured, "Do you think I have been wrong in my ways of bringing up Sauren?"
Brett stopped mid-sip and lowered his goblet. Sa'themar's brow was furrowed with self-doubt. In all the years he had known him, it was an expression which Brett could not recall having ever seen on his leader's face. He had known him to question many things certainly, mainly to do with tactics, or who to deploy on certain missions and he regularly challenged and renegotiated payment because he felt the reward offered did not reflect the risk taken by his troops. But, never had he questioned his ability as a father. Unfortunately, it was a province in which Brett did not feel qualified to answer.
"You are asking the wrong man," he managed before promptly lifting the wine back to his lips.
Sa'themar's eyes flicked to the human rogue then back over the darkening sea. "Forgive me," he said quietly noting the reserved hitch in Brett's voice. "It's just - what Lina said made me wonder."
Brett sighed heavily. "The boy is very proud of you," he said. "And he would never do anything to cause you shame – granted his foolishness recently almost cost both of you dearly, but, overall, Sauren loves you fiercely."
Sa'themar looked up, surprised. "He has said as much?"
The human rogue nodded. "Pretty much, yes."
There was no mistaking his words meant much to Sa'themar. The guild leader smiled to himself and took another sip of wine.
"And as for Lina and Yathas' decision to keep their work secret from their children, I can understand that too," Brett added.
Sa'themar nodded after a few moments. "I guess there is no right or wrong way. We simply do what we think is best for them."
This time Brett nodded. "And I would say you are all doing a fine job."
The platinum mane swayed a little in acknowledgement of the compliment. "Thank you. Having said that, it is time for that son of mine to be put through the paces. I want his training to resume tomorrow. Circumstances interrupted his lessons, but no more. If we are called on missions I want you to appoint one of the other trainers to take over in your stead."
Brett grinned behind his goblet. "As you wish."
"And I do not want you to be lenient on him. If anything, drive him harder."
Brett nodded and drained his wine. He was about to leave when Sa'themar held up his bottle offering to refill Brett's goblet. He duly accepted. The two rogues clinked goblets and took a draught.
Sa'themar fixed his right-hand man with a steady stare. "I want him primed, able to fight with the best of us. He will be the leader one day, and I want to make sure he earns the title."
The human rogue fought to keep an impassive expression. He had no doubt the boy would excel in the ways of the rogue. As an individual and a leader, however, he had his reservations. Still, he could not voice this to his friend and colleague who doted on his son. He could only try to do his best to help mould the boy into what Sa'themar wanted him to be.
"Wider!" Sauren demanded.
Don sat in the secret pool under the throne room of Capital City's Keep. His face was spattered with berry juice, pulp and seeds. Reed fared no better. Sauren had a little in his hair, the soft fruit broken, mushed on his neck and chest. Out of the three, however, the half-elf was the clear winner in more ways than one.
"Oh, come on!" Reed groaned, frustrated. "You are a far better shot than that! You proved it this morning."
Sauren laughed. "I guess I was just lucky then."
"Rubbish!" Don grunted having received another large berry to the face. "You just don't want to share!"
Sauren laughed out loud with Maya and Leola giggling beside him.
A game had developed between the three rogues and their companions. Each concubine would aim and launch berries at the other rogues' open mouths. The prize for the perfect hit was to lay with the woman who threw the winning shot. Both Don and Reed's ladies had successfully landed their fruit in Sauren's mouth three times now, but he insisted the game continued on for a while regardless.
As Maya and Leola's aim was awry to say the least, Sauren offered to help them. Their little mumbles of protest made him aware they did not wish to be with Don or Reed and had been missing on purpose. With a whispered reassurance, he stood behind them in turn, his hand gently holding theirs and helped them take aim with the fruit.
He derived fun in plastering his friends with the soft berries and listening to them whine as their chances of enjoying Sauren's concubines seemed more unlikely as each fruit hit them anywhere but their open mouths. Little did his two friends or their companions realise he had no inclination whatsoever in exchanging his carnal pleasures.
Another fleshy strawberry splatted on Don's cheek closely followed by another landing equally recklessly on Reed's head.
"That's it!" Reed protested. "You stick with your ladies and we'll stick with ours. I'm looking like an orchard floor."
The four young women sighed disappointment as they looked longingly at Sauren. He winked at them and indicated with a nod of his head that they fulfil his friends' desires. Their mouths curved into resigned smiles before they focused their attention on the two rogues they had been appointed.
Maya and Leola cooed, snuggling up against Sauren. Using the empty fruit bowls they started to pour water over his hair, neck and shoulders, washing away the berries' residue.
"What are we going to do about Benjamin Morely?" Reed asked out of the blue.
Sauren fixed him with a stare, his body suddenly tensing that the subject had been raised in the presence of the women. Maya and Leola sensed the change in him. "Worry not," Maya whispered. "We are sworn to secrecy."
Sauren's mahogany eyes turned to her, their fierceness softening as her sweet smile reassured him that anything discussed in the pool, stayed in the pool. He took a deep breath then turned his attention back to Reed and Don. "He is the third on my list."
"Third? After what he did?"
"Yes." Sauren paused. "Although, I am more concerned for Mr Atherton."
"Do you think Morely would hurt him?" Don asked.
The half-elf pulled away from his concubines and sat forward. They remained at his side but halted in their grooming of him. "Not necessarily physically, but I do think he will take the old man for all he can get, as punishment for treating me like any other gentleman."
Reed quickly looked at Don then back at the half-elf. "Then what are your plans?"
Sauren's lip curled into a cruel smile. He sat back and pulled Maya and Leola to him. With his arms around their shoulders, his slender fingers stroked their cheeks and necks. They resumed their meticulous cleansing of his chest and hair. Closing his eyes, enjoying their touch, he issued his answer. "There is an old ruin out by Cold Hearth Manor. It is rumoured to have been used as a slaughterhouse many years ago. A dangerous place indeed with all sorts of nightmarish implements just lying about, abandoned -" He opened his eyes and looked over at his friends. He was pleased to see that neither needed much more explanation, they understood him perfectly.
"So, he has moved up your list?" Don enquired.
"No. But, we keep vigil on Mr Allerton, ensure he is not being taken for all he has by the little bastard. And then, I intend to make a start on that list." He looked back at the two beautiful women by his side. "I feel invigorated now," he smiled. "So we begin with the blacksmith, Joe Langdon and his pitiful son Adam."
"It begins?"
"Yes. For the next two days I want you, Reed, to carry out surveillance on their premises, find out when they are likely to have a quiet spell. You are unfamiliar to them so you will not raise any suspicion. You will be a potential new customer of theirs, but you will stress that the work must be done later in the day, preferably evening as you are due to leave the city soon and will be busy up until that time."
"And what do I do?" Don asked.
"Once we have an evening reserved for our - intervention, shall we say, you will stand by and watch me take a beating..."
"What?" Don exclaimed. Everyone in the cavern expressed surprise, Maya and Leola curling themselves protectively around their young lover.
Sauren laughed lightly. "Worry not. They are fist-fighters. Adam was encouraged by his father to pummel me when I was a small boy. I took many a boot and fist to my gut back then. But I was a small, skinny lad then with no knowledge of how to fight back." His voice hardened. "They just saw a weak, privileged little freak who shouldn't even have been born..."
The two women at his side cuddled in even more, their hands caressing his chest and lips brushing his skin. The sensation calmed him a little. He squeezed their shoulders lightly. "I am not, however, that pathetic little boy any more. I know enough to show them their hateful ways and vile bigotry shall earn them nothing but a painful end."
"Still, I cannot be expected to just stand there," Don pleaded. "I'm your bodyguard for goodness sake." Calissa and Ellen closed in around him, almost mimicking Sauren's lovers in their attentiveness to the half-elf. Don melted at their touch.
"I have it all worked out Don, you will know when to move in." He reached back for his goblet of wine and took a sip.
"Do you have a timescale for the others?" Reed enquired, his breath hitching as his playmates started toying with him once more.
"I have no doubt my father will insist on vigorous training for me after the Blackened Woods incident, so scheduling times will be difficult although not impossible. I suppose another advantage will be the improvement of my skills. I had a little taste of my potential with the trolls, and I know I will be a fastidious student. So, for the time being, gentlemen, we will focus as I say on the Langdons, make sure Mr Atherton is unharmed and last but definitely not least..." He turned and kissed both of his ladies. "We shall enjoy the pleasures these beautiful women bestow upon us."
The cavern soon filled with the sounds of passion and release.
A fleeting shadow moved over the far wall. Unbeknown to the writhing bodies in the pool, their conversation had been noted to the last detail and a pair of green eyes bore witness to their sexual preoccupation in the water. With a satisfied and slightly vindictive smile, the figure moved quietly and slid through another secret entrance to the underground pool.