27 – Hatched, Matched and Despatched

The battle with the orcs was still ongoing albeit far from the city. Troops were still being sent to front lines, rogues and mages amongst them.

Units from the Crimson Blade were sent out and they worked closely with other guilds, relishing the advantage of important news from the network reaching their ears post-haste. This provided crucial intel as to the Horde's progress. It also enabled Sa'themar to ensure his rogues were always at the top of their game. He had his magi portal out those who had fought for days and replenish ranks with fresh assassins, priests and mages from headquarters.

Sauren and his two henchmen had played their part and with each encounter, their skill and resilience were fortified. Sa'themar could not help but feel pride in his son's achievements and with this came the realisation that the boy was a born leader. His methods at times left a sour taste in the guild leader's mouth, but he could not deny Sauren got the job done.

The war rolled on and the Horde's retreat to Khaz Modan was constantly hindered by the relentless Alliance armies. As the weeks passed, the exhausted and battered orcs shuffled into Wetlands and attempted to cross Thandol Span. This was another failure for the invaders from Draenor, they were forced further south and the battle continued.

Back in Lordaeron, it was nigh on three months since Capital City had been under siege and it had begun to reclaim some of its former lustre. The plaza having suffered the worst of the orcs' assault had been rid of almost all signs of battle - at least cosmetically.

The area had been restructured or rebuilt depending on the amount of damage it had endured and with the aid not only of skilled masons but also some very accommodating mages from both Dalaran and Quel'thalas, the city's "wounds" were healing at a steady pace. Capital City was once more becoming a thriving community. With the moratorium of its commerce behind them, the economy now rose as rapidly as the buildings which housed its businesses and families alike.

This particular morning brought two lots of happy news to Sauren. Having requested his breakfast in bed (a luxury he enjoyed when his father was not on the grounds) a valet arrived with a tray containing ham and eggs, some toast, coffee, The Lordaeron Bulletin (the local newspaper) and two letters; one written in a hand unknown to the half-elf.

Firstly, he opened the one which bore a familiar penmanship. Piper Alston. With a broad smile, he read the young woman's words:

Dear Sauren

I should really wait for my father to contact you, but I cannot suppress my joy at his consent for you to court me. It would seem news of your efforts in the war has duly impressed him and having met briefly with your father has decided you are an acceptable suitor for his daughter.

Furthermore, he has permitted me to attend your shindig on the eve of Winter's Veil which I am truly looking forward to.

I hope my father's letter reaches you soon so we can meet openly.

Yours

Piper

He folded the letter and popped it back in its envelope, satisfied with the outcome. The Alston's had been making enquiries on property within the city with a view to moving from Darkshire. It had meant their stay had been extended again and this enabled him to have secret rendezvous with the delectable Miss Alston.

He found her more charming with every meeting. Yet, strangely, although certain thoughts had indeed crossed his mind and regularly, he did not try to engage her in any physical intimacy other than kissing the back of her hand or linking arms with her as they walked. There was something decidedly intoxicating in the knowledge that her desire for him was almost as, if perhaps not more compelling than his salacity for her.

It was possible, however, that now he was awarded her father's official approval as a suitor, that particular abstinence may indeed be quenched by the chestnut-haired beauty.

Nevertheless, until such opportunity presented itself, he continued to partake of carnal pleasures elsewhere; twice more with the outstanding Leola and Maya and he had also dipped his wick in the sensational delights Odette had to offer.

Wisely, he had also remembered the warning Louvel had issued and although he had not suffered any discomfort he nonetheless paid a visit to the apothecary on Elder Row. He was best pleased to find out he did indeed offer an elixir which kept certain conditions at bay should the need arise.

He picked up the second letter which came in the form of a scroll with a wax seal. He scrutinised the handwriting but still, its author eluded him. He laughed out loud when he broke the seal and read the contents:

Whipper-snapper

It is with great joy and enormous pride I announce the arrival of my son, Lewis, on this the 25th day of October in year 598.

Mother and baby doing well – father hopes to be slightly intoxicated when next he visits the city (in two weeks time). I hope you will join me to wet the baby's head.

Louvel (Mister Nottley to you)

He chuckled at the letter as he ate his breakfast. Louvel certainly made him smile and together with the man's expertise as an assassin and thief, he was all the more determined to have the rogue join the ranks of the Crimson Blade.

The good mood his communiques had given him was excuse enough to venture into the city and pay a visit to Mr Atherton. He would require new attire with the coming event to be held at headquarters in two month's time. He had every intention not only to truly impress Piper but also soften her sour-faced mother.

The bi-annual event, known as The Gathering, was held on the eve of Winter's Veil. It was a social evening for the rogue communities and was held on a rota basis at one of the more renowned rogue guild headquarters. Although the Crimson Blade was still in its infancy, testimonials and recommendations from prominent and influential clientele had already aided in placing it amongst the most prestigious establishments of the day. As such, it was selected to hold this coming year's celebration.

There was, of course, an overdue matter which needed his attention also and that too would be dealt with during his visit to the tailor.

Setting the tray to one side, he threw back the covers and ventured through to the wash closet. He liberally splashed water over his face and neck then dried himself.

Halfway through getting dressed a knock sounded at his door. He called for whoever it was to enter. He was surprised to see the young housemaid, Heidy, who had been teased mercilessly by the valet, Marcus the day he returned from despatching the blacksmith and his vile son. She was in the main chamber, eyes lowered to the floor. "I have been sent to collect your breakfast tray, Master Sauren," she uttered, barely audible.

Sauren stood bare-chested, his britches unfastened as he searched his wardrobe for a suitable shirt. He could not help but smirk. Sent, or volunteered, he wondered. The girl was obviously taken with him. He knew he shouldn't but he was in a playful mood. "Up here, Heidy."

The girl coyly lifted her eyes to where he stood then quickly looked away. Again he grinned. "It is up here. On my bed," he told her. He could have sworn she inhaled sharply.

He moved to the top step where he towered over her.

Her hands were wringing together nervously. "Forgive me, I – I thought you would be in the wash closet. Shall I return later, Master Sauren?"

It was difficult for the half-elf to suppress a chuckle at the housemaid's reasoning. "Just as well you arrived when you did then," he replied. "Or else you would have caught me completely naked."

Heidy made a noise like a whimper and even with her head bowed, Sauren could tell she was blushing furiously. He suddenly felt very guilty for making her so uncomfortable.

"Please, go in. I will stay down here." He pulled on his shirt and tucked it into his waistband as the girl scurried up the steps to his bedchamber. He heard the plates clattering against the mug as she lifted the tray, her hands obviously shaking. As he heard her descend he turned to meet her. She carried the tray in the crook of her elbow as she dug into her pocket with her free hand.

"By the way, I found this below your window, Master Sauren when I was in the yard. I thought you might want it returned." She managed a small, hopeful smile.

The half-elf's eyes widened as he saw what she held. The troll trinket which he had cast from his room weeks before sat in the palm of her hand. A cold sweat overcame him and a rage started to build. "That is not mine," he said, low and dark.

"But - but I saw it in your room when we filled your bath that day..." Heidy explained.

His demeanour changed completely. "Still it is not mine. Keep it!" He turned from her, signifying her dismissal.

"But..."

"You have done what you came in to do, Heidy. Now go about your chores!" His voice was harsher than he intended, but his nerves were inexplicably raw.

He did not need to look to know the girl was upset by his manner, he heard the choked sobs as she left the room. He stood, clenching his fists, trying to calm down. Why did a silly trinket affect him so? Then he remembered the one Louvel brought him. He could not for the life of him remember what happened to it. Oddly, however, that one did not bother him the same. The one Heidy held did. It was the same the day he'd found it; a sinister vibe seemed to ooze from the strange talisman.

He shook his head, determined to erase such nonsensical thoughts from his mind. But, the realisation he knew not from where it came was what caused his agitation. That, plus the sporadic dreams he still suffered since the Blackened Woods - all added to his angst.

His irrational thinking was interrupted by another knock at his door. "Enter!" he snapped.

Don and Reed crossed the threshold and into the main chamber. Don looked at Sauren then Reed and back again. "You get out the wrong side of the bed or something?"

Sauren's eyes were still blazing as he fixed both his friends with a heated glare. After a moment's awkward silence he forced a laugh. "No, I – I misplaced something, that's all," he lied.

"What?" Reed asked looking around the room for all he knew not what for.

"It doesn't matter," Sauren dismissed and finished tying his britches cord. He took a deep breath, actively ridding himself of the dregs of his foul mood.

With boots and jacket then on, his eyes fell on the letters he had received. Once again, his more jovial temperament took over. "Now then gentlemen, we have some business to tend to."

"Oh? What's on the agenda for today then?" Don asked.

"Well, I have received word that my request to court Piper has been agreed..."

"Congratulations! Seems Louvel was right," Reed smiled.

Sauren eyed the rogue for a moment, then smiled at the conjecture. "Perhaps. Early days, yet. As for the man himself, his son was born three days ago. He will be coming to visit in two weeks during which time we will assist in celebrating the birth."

The news was met with a mirthful cheer.

"So what business do we attend today?" Don asked.

Straightening his lapels and cuffs, Sauren grinned. "I think we need to acquire some new clothing for our Gathering and in so doing, we will assess things with the duplicitous Benjamin Morely."

His two friends grinned, the eagerness evident in their smiles.

"Welcome, gentlemen! As always, it is a pleasure to do business with you. What is it I can do for you today?" Mr Atherton, tailor extraordinaire, smiled and shook hands with the young half-elf and his friends before duly taking out a piece of parchment and readying his quill to note their measurements.

Sauren smiled warmly at the old tailor and explained they needed new suits for the pending Gathering. He also informed him that he wanted something that little extra special. Mr Atherton chuckled and tapping the side of his nose and winking, he said he understood. Of course, the tailor no doubt knew of Sauren's interest in Piper, being a close family friend and all of the Alstons.

The old man took all their particulars, even when Reed's grumbled about it. He thought his measurements from last time would suffice until Mr Atherton explained each fitting required new measurements to allow for any increase or decrease in the customer's size. Sauren and Don laughed as they saw Reed inhale and stand straighter sucking in his stomach – not that there was much to draw in, he was still of an athletic build for all he had the appetite of a bear.

"So, how is your apprentice doing?" Sauren enquired as the old man finished off with Don's measurements.

Mr Atherton huffed. "He's still here."

Sauren's face remained impassive as the old man aired his chagrin but inside he was seething that Mr Atherton was so disgruntled by his apprentice and rightly so, although he could not divulge what he knew to the tailor. In order to ensure his hand was not discovered in dealing with Benjamin's fate, he had to sound supportive of the worm. "Perhaps he just needs time and I would think under your tuition and expertise he can only succeed."

Mr Atherton's eyes twinkled behind his glasses. "You are such a gentleman, Master Sauren and your compliment is most appreciated. I fear, however, your faith in me could be unfounded where Benjamin is concerned."

Sauren's eyes flicked to his friends who were struggling to appear neutral in the matter also.

"I am old," Mr Atherton continued. "Forgetful now and again…ha, sometimes I don't even know what day it is…" he chuckled a little. Sauren smiled in response. "But that does not make me a fool. I know he just wants to line his own pockets as quickly and probably as deviously as he can. You see, he does not have the passion to be a tailor as I do nor, bless his soul, the late Mr Emsworth. Benjamin does not appreciate the beauty of the weft and weave, he does not care how he handles the fabric or best positions the patterns. And he has no concept of the sheer quality of some materials."

Sauren flexed an eyebrow. He knew Benjamin did indeed comprehend the value of such fine fabrics and was making a profit for himself on the side. "In that case, I hope you do not allow him near our suits."

"Oh, worry not young sir. I shall see to your attire from beginning to end. Thankfully, this is the lad's day off too so he won't put his grubby hands on what we choose for you all. Now, let's talk style and fabric shall we?"

For the next hour, the old tailor showed them a selection of materials in an assortment of colours pertaining to their requirements and he drafted quick sketches of his ideas. The man was a marvel. For all he was, as he claimed, old and forgetful at times, he was nonetheless exceptionally gifted in his trade and he had a unique sense of what his clients looked for. The young rogues left with an appointment to return for a fitting in two weeks time.

They stood outside the shop for a few minutes debating why Mr Atherton did not simply fire Benjamin. Sauren reckoned it was the old man's good nature that prevented him from doing so, plus as Benjamin was technically just learning the trade, the old tailor no doubt felt it would be unfair to dismiss him without giving him a fair chance. Regardless, it was time this bodger was made-to-measure and a plan needed to be devised.

"It has been quite a day so far," Reed offered, clapping his hands together.

"In what way?" Sauren asked with brow furrowed.

"Well, we have Louvel's news of becoming a father. We also have you starting out on the journey towards wedded bliss..."

Sauren guffawed.

"And we are planning to rid the city of yet another nasty little nuisance. So you could say it is a day of Hatched, Matched and Despatched!"

The three boys burst into laughter, nudging Reed playfully. Stepping down from the front step Sauren heard his name being called.

On turning he was acutely surprised to see none other than the flamboyant and arrogant Dar'khan Drathir approaching. With him, an older man; another mage going by his robes although they were purple as opposed to the red and gold like the magi of Quel'danas. "Well, well," the young mage enthused. "If it isn't the hero of the hour. Hello Sauren."

The sarcasm dripping from the mage's words made the half-elf's hair prickle at the back of his neck. He really did not like this man. Nevertheless, he acknowledged the power he possessed and decided to be civil. "Good day, Dar'khan. And to what do we owe the pleasure of your presence today?"

In his self-appointed deistic manner, the pompous spell-weaver straightened emphasising his very tall and slender frame. "I am helping my friend here with his research." He gestured to the man at his side. "He seeks out prominent ley energies to their source and often discovers interesting artefacts in the world of thaumaturgy along the way."

Sauren's mouth twitched at the corners. Dar'khan did like to try bamboozle people with his superlative knowledge in the workings of the magi, but the half-elf was quietly confident he could show the mage a thing or two in basic manners.

His eyes drifted to the older man. He was human, with medium brown floppy hair and a beard. His blue eyes were intelligent yet secretive. The man regarded Sauren with a reserved and taciturn gaze.

Turning his attention back to Dar'khan the half-elf could not help but voice a smart riposte. "So, you are on a hocus-pocus discovery then? And here was I believing you knew it all already, Dar'khan." The affluent mage held back a sneer. Sauren continued. "However, I think it would be more polite to make introductions, for now, don't you?"

Before he could respond, the older man stepped forward. His mouth hinted his amusement. "I am Kel'thuzad," he held out his hand and Sauren accepted with a firm handshake. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Sauren. Dar'khan has told me about you."

Sauren expertly hid his surprise on hearing the mage's name. So, this was the man who skulked about the ruins of the plaza during the siege. He could not help but wonder if he was still searching for more than just magical sources. "Nice to meet you, Kel'thuzad. I'm afraid Dar'khan has not been so liberal in informing me about you, but am I right in thinking you are on the Council of Six in Dalaran?"

From the corner of his eye, Sauren saw Dar'khan stiffen. He obviously did not expect the half-breed to be knowledgeable about the omnipotent magi.

"Ah, so you are acquainted with the Kirin Tor?" Kel'thuzad enquired.

"Acquainted no, but I do have a regard for your magical community. We employ mages at our guild and it is in our interests to keep up to speed, shall we say, with your eminent council."

The older mage smiled broadly, his eyes crinkling at the corners. Sauren readily recognised the workings of an intellectual mind. "Then I think perhaps, one day, you could join me in Dalaran, Sauren. I would be most happy to furnish you with a further insight into our discoveries and progress."

Despite Alaen's warnings about the man, Sauren could not suppress his jubilance at such an invitation. "That is most generous and I would be delighted to accept."

"Good, then I shall check my schedule and pen you a date to visit."

"I look forward to it." The half-elf inclined his head, sneaking another furtive glance at Dar'khan. The obvious displeasure on the young mage's face only led Sauren to torment him more as he recalled a certain item in the shop behind them. "Oh, by the way, Dar'khan…" The mage eyed him with a somewhat stony regard. "I know you like flamboyant garb and when I saw this, I automatically thought of you." He gestured Mr Atherton's window and the red and gold hat with the pristine feather on the shelf.

He grinned as he saw Dar'khan's eyes darken, the effrontery in the presence of such a prominent figure of the Kirin Tor being painful at the very least. Sauren then politely bowed to Kel'thuzad and slightly less so to his companion before he moved off heading towards the inner city.

A few yards away from the mages, Don noted the smug smirk on Sauren's lips. "We were warned about him. What are you thinking?"

The half-elf looked at his right-hand man, a clandestine smile now in place. "Foundations, Don. I am merely laying foundations."

His friend was none the wiser but fell into step with him and Reed.

Sauren moved steadily ahead. "For now though, gentleman, let us devise a little plan to take care of a spurious apprentice tailor."