Chapter 21
The sound of conversation awoke Merrilynn from her slumber. She dared not move, fearing that the Troll had captured her in her weakened state. But the voices lacked any hint of accent.
"How are they doing?" A rather nasal voice asked, coming directly from her right.
"The young one should wake soon. Her injuries should heal soon enough as well, and the rest will have cured that fatigue, no doubt about it. The other is only a matter of time." This voice was pleasant for any to hear, though deep and rough at times, as if it was suppressing a growl of some sort.
"A bold move, sending her minion for help like that."
"Bold indeed, Sagi, but it worked. She put up quite a fight."
"She was lucky, nothing more."
Slightly cracking open one eye, she hoped to view her surroundings unnoticed.
"Ah good, you have awoken."
Now that she was discovered, she had no choice but to open her eyes fully. Only to have them widen in horror as some black and white beast towering over her. Had the Troll captured her after all? As she was about to scream, a big furry paw covered her mouth, reducing her scream to a muffled yelp.
"Shh, young warlock, we mean you no harm. But the village would not appreciate you waking them up in the middle of the night."
When the information had sunken in, and Merrilynn became calm once more, the big creature lifted his paw, a smile appearing on his face.
"What village?"
"A sanctuary for warlocks on the run. You and your friend should feel quite at home here."
"I never knew such a place existed."
"We tend to keep it secret, since, I don't know, about everyone here is on the run from their faction? Can't have people knowing where we hide now do we?"
Looking to her right she saw that the nasal voice belonged to a gnome, the most familiar sight she had seen in days. It calmed her to see one of her faction, or at least, former faction. His eyes barely reached over the bed frame, but she could see the tinge of bitterness on his face. Replacing it with a blank look, he stuck out a hand, a feat only achieved by standing on his toes, he greeted her.
"I am Sagi, and that is Raimondi, our local healer. And you might be?"
"Merrilynn."
"As I said before, it was a very bold move to send your imp for help."
"Jalane was hurt, if I hadn't, we wouldn't have survived the attack."
The gnome quirked an eyebrow, seeming doubtful of her explanation.
"Well then, Merrilynn, could you tell us what you and the other woman were doing unharmed near a murdered warlock camp? Being warlocks yourselves, you should've at least received some form of damage, besides burnt hands."
"Sagi, you know just as well as I that they were not the ones responsible for the massacre. The burnt Troll near the camp should be proof enough for their innocence. Now be gone, she is still under my care and therefore I shall not have you put stress upon her frail health."
Disgruntled, the gnome left, muttering 'this isn't over yet' under his breath. As a matter of apology the brewmaster explained.
"A good friend of his was murdered in that camp. Pay no heed to him, he just seeks answers."
"I know how he feels" She responded, having lost her own friends and family not long ago. She too wanted answers, and if possible, revenge. But it seemed they would have to wait.
As Raimondi helped her up, she felt her robe shift against bare skin. She shuddered, that last encounter with the Troll had not been a dream after all. But she was glad that it had been the only thing he had taken from her. She saw Jalane lying in a bed opposite from hers. It seemed the woman was alive, her shoulder bound and her hands wrapped in bandages. Merrilynn was clueless as to why the latter needed to be bound. Raimondi noticed the direction of her stare and offered information.
"She will be fine, the arrow was not poisoned, and if my brew works as intended, she will not even be hindered by a scar."
"Your brew? Healers make potions, not brews. Just what kind of healer are you?"
"A Pandaran one, young warlock."
The girl sought deep in her mind for what she knew of Pandaran healers, or even Pandarans in general. She had heard the name before, but nothing in her mind seemed to fit the description of big, black and white, and furry.
"I thought that they were a myth, and even if they aren't…weren't they a nomadic folk."
"Some of us prefer a nice settlement to a hut in no-man's-land. I offer the warlocks my skills and they provide me with the ingredients needed for my brews and a comfortable home. I hope you don't mind, but I tested out a salve on your hands. I had never tried it on freshly wounded skin before. Mind if I take a look at how it has healed?"
As the brewmaster took her hands, Merrilynn briefly wondered how badly they had been damaged by her fight with the Trolls. She was surprised that she wasn't feeling any pain right now. She could have sworn they had been bleeding before she blacked out. Unwinding the bandages, Raimondi explained more of the village. (1)
"It was founded shortly after the second war I think. Warlocks were being hunted everywhere and killed with no reason, burning them at the stakes. It wasn't until a few, often referred to as the 'founders', had proved their allegiance, that a decree was made, in hopes of stopping the massacres. After that, they bound together their magic and created this safe haven for warlocks, where they could live freely without fear of death. The murder rampage lessened, but even now most of your kin are being prosecuted for just existing. It is why this village will not be found on any map, no matter how detailed it might be. It will all be futile though, should one of your own ever betray the location of this place. Ahh, I see my salve worked better than expected."
Looking down at her one unbound hand, and she couldn't do much but agree.
Where her skin had once been burned beyond repair, there was now new and soft skin, though a darker shade. Not flawless, as the oldest and most hardened scars remained, albeit faded; her hands were definitely more presentable.
"Potent salve." She commented, clearly impressed by the results. Slightly moving her fingers, she made sure that this was indeed, her hand. Raimondi smiled at her reaction, black eyes glittering in delight.
"It should be, after 1000 years of perfecting it. I'm hoping the results will be similar for your friend. But I must admit that I have never used it on a case that bad. All we can do is hope."
Remembering with a shudder how Jalane's hands looked, she indeed hoped that the effect would be similar.
The brewmaster briefly looked out of a window.
"It is still long till sunrise, young warlock, you should get some rest."
Nodding she did one last thing before going back to sleep. Her entire being wished Pagrin at her side. As the imp appeared, he instantly nestled beside her on the pillow. He didn't need words to understand that his new mistress felt safer when he was near, or at least comforted by his presence. And, though he would never admit it, he felt the same.
….
Ayiz walked around in the small settlement east of Thunderbluff. His shoulder had finally stopped bleeding, but the burns prevented his Trollish blood from regenerating the tissue. The fight yesterday had forced him to let the girl escape again. The girl that had killed his friend was free…for now. He wouldn't stay here long, he needed his revenge.
Voices erupted from behind him as he passed. He didn't care. All he needed was the local shaman. Unlucky for him, it was a Tauren. Though peaceful and kind, they were not known for their soft treatment of wounds.
"What happened to you?"
"Ad a little run in wid a mage. Can you fix dis?"
The Tauren grabbed Ayiz' arm and pulled him closer for inspection.
"A mage cast this you say? Your arm should have been blown of, judging by the point of original impact. Tell me, did he seem tired?"
"She was on er knees wen she attacked me. Wad do you tink?"
"It was a woman?" The Tauren eyed him warily, starting to figure out exactly why he had gotten burnt, and not at all too willing to heal him anymore. But helas, his duty prevented him from refusing aid.
"Wad does dat ave to do wid it? Look mon, jus patch me up an I'll be on my way."
"All right, but this will hurt."
It took the Troll all of his willpower not to scream as his scarred flesh started to regenerate. Agonizing as the treatment was, it proved effective when his shoulder was again the dark blue colour it was supposed to be. Twisting it around a bit to make sure that it was fully usable, he gave the Tauren a few gold pieces and thanked him.
Once he arrived back in his room at the local inn, he pulled out the panties he had taken from the one responsible for his burn. Sniffing it and rubbing it against his cheek, he imagined all the things he would do to this girl once he had her. Had he taken her the first time, she would be dead by now. Since then it had gotten more personal. It seemed lady luck stood on her side as she had escaped him no less than three times. Three was three times too many. And in that time she had been responsible for the death or capture of several of his friends, the blood of one sticking on her own hands. He wouldn't kill her no more. No, now, he would see to it that she suffered until she begged for death. And beg she would.
All he needed to do was find her.
….
Merrilynn was awoken the next day by loud voices. It seemed their arrival had been noticed by the entire village. She cracked open an eye to look at the newcomer. She was surprised to see a human standing opposite Raimondi, not at all intimidated by the towering brewmaster. He appeared to be of age, wise in his motions and speech. She suspected he had lived through the third war, his face hardened by all the things that he might have seen. Tanned, not surprising since the sun hardly ever seemed to set in the Barrens, and black hair reaching his shoulders, he looked very regal indeed.
"Have they awoken yet?"
"The young one briefly, but it was too late to summon you."
"They can be a threat to our village; it is never too late to summon me. Now wake her up."
"Sir Dextros, it is not because you are a descendant of one of the founders that it gives you the right to tell me what I should do in my ward. She will wake up when she is fully rested."
Sitting up to notify them she was awake, the man named Dextros noticed her and walked straight past the fuming brewmaster. Offering a small though unnatural smile and a hand he bowed ever so lightly to the girl.
"Do you feel fit enough for a walk, milady?"
"Would I not be a threat to your village if I had seen it?" She asked grimly, the new attitude not misleading her. But the man just kept his face blank.
"Only one way to find out is there not?"
Standing up without taking the offered hand she followed the man out the healing ward. Once outside she felt as if she was right back in Elwynn. But that was impossible! She was halfway across Azeroth. Looking around, she found no blue on the horizon, even though she knew it had to be near noon, but pure black. Above her she saw a brightly coloured line passing through the sky. Not far from it was something she suspected to be the cause for the daylight they now had.
"This isn't real."
Not hearing, or ignoring her words, he guided her around the village. It appeared that he was something similar to the mayor of this village. There were 4 'leaders', each representing their respective race, and all descendants from the founders. He told her much of what the brewmaster had explained to her the night before, and then some. Apparently the village existed on a different plain, somewhere in between dimensions. Only people with the knowledge to enter it, or, if they were not of the shadow lore, granted entrance were allowed. It explained to her why the heaven looked so different than what she was used to. She wasn't even in Azeroth anymore.
"Every lost traveller will find his way through the darkness" she mused; now understanding that it had been nothing more than a cryptic clue for the location of this village.
The village was big, and divided in several quarters. Not to separate the Alliance from the Horde, but to make it seem more organized. There was a training quarter that also served as a guesthouse for the Forsaken. They never stayed too long, seeing as they were not only accepted by their kind, but even celebrated. It consisted mostly out of underground crypts where the warlocks were free to train their spell casting without fear of harming anything in the process, provided of course that the room was not occupied by a sleeping Undead. The living quarter was the largest of all. Here were the houses of those who had moved to this village permanently. Having a piece of land at their disposal they could easily provide for themselves without ever needing to set foot outside their village. Then there was the trading quarter where a few goblins had set up a simple shop for those that needed items from Azeroth. They had also set up some sort of bank and had seen to it that the travelling caravan delivered post to and from this plain. Last there was the guest quarter, consisting out of three buildings: an inn, the healing ward where Merrilynn and Jalane currently resided and a building with at least 50 rooms to house any refugee warlock until it was safe for them to go back or their permanent house had been built. The rest consisted of glorious nature, animal wildlife included.
"It's come a long way since the founders created it. Do you see now why we try our best to keep this place protected?"
Merrilynn nodded. She could imagine why so many of her kin sought refuge here. Though in a place between dimensions, it did not lack security. The borders of the village were surrounded by demons, making sure that if there ever was a threat to the village, it would be dispersed quickly.
"But why would you consider Jalane and me a threat? We are warlocks, nothing more."
"Not every warlock comes here with good intentions. Some are bribed with amnesty to reveal our location, others are sent by their crazed out minds to destroy the tender peace we have. We have our ways of getting rid of them before it is too late. I hope you will not take this personally milady, but we need information. A friend of mine will come to ask you questions later, just a manner of knowing who you are."
"And to be sure that I will not destroy what took the founders much of their strength to create?"
Offering her a genuine smile he nodded, knowing that the girl understood and would co-operate. They had arrived back at the healing ward, where Merrilynn was delighted to hear Jalane had woken up.
She too had found out where they were now located. She eagerly listened to Pagrin, who explained to her what had happened after the arrow had struck her in the shoulder.
"After she sent me for help I came here immediately. We were nearly there when I was sent back to the Netherworld. After that I was worried sick about the two of you, not having any ties to this mortal world. I was afraid Merri hadn't made it."
"Pagrin, you said my name! So you do care about me" Merrilynn stated, pretending to wipe away tears.
"Don't get used to it kiddo." But the tone in the imp's voice was no longer filled with contempt. She had proven to him that she was worthy of being respected.
Pagrin still remembered the look in her eyes when he had attempted to disobey her. The shadow had already nestled in her veins, when it had happened, he didn't know. But he prayed that this girl would not fall victim to it as so many of his other masters had. He might have been a demon, but he had feelings too. And right now he was cursing them for growing fond of his young mistress, knowing that it would only be a matter of time before she died, and then he would again live alone, waiting for another warlock to be in need of his service.
It wasn't until the following day that the mayor's friend came by. He was quite tall for a human, with blond hair pulled back in an elegant ponytail. He didn't appear to be a day older than 20. Though his features were young, his manners were more than ancient. He hadn't even introduced himself before he started asking questions. He just sat there on a chair writing down the information she provided, hardly looking up from the papers he had brought with him. Once Jalane had been questioned, it was now Merrilynn's turn.
"Name?"
"Merrilynn Weaderin"
"Staying here or passing through?"
She looked at Jalane, question evident in her eyes. The older woman answered in her stead.
"Staying."
"Why are you here?"
"My village was destroyed by Horde."
His writing hand paused for a moment and it seemed as though he was tempted to give her a look of pity. Dismissing it quickly he started writing again.
"Place of birth?"
"Elwynn"
"Location of bank deposit?"
"Stormwind"
"How long have you been a warlock?"
"No more than two weeks."
Upon that he looked up from his paper and probably for the first time since he had entered the healing ward, smiled at her. Though it did not comfort her. It simply felt evil.
"So you are as we dare say 'fresh meat'. How delightful. Well, I believe that is all for now. Our affiliates in Stormwind will be notified of your arrival here and your belongings will be transported as soon as possible. They should arrive within the week."
He stood up from the chair and smiled devilishly at her once more before leaving for the door. His hand was upon the doorknob when he turned towards the two young women again.
"Since you have not mastered any spells yet, I assume Dextros will place you under my care. My name is Trevellian and I am one of the few that still teaches the lore around here. I will see you for your first training tomorrow. He gave you a tour of the village I presume?"
"He did."
"Then you know where the training quarters are, do you not?"
"Yes."
"Above the entrances are numbers. Take the fifth one and then follow it all the way down until you reach door 59, it is quite far down. Ghastly place, but in reasonably better condition than some of the other rooms. Meet me there at noon tomorrow. If I am not there by that time, wait. Miss…" He rummaged through his papers. "Jalane, you must take the third entrance and proceed to room 35, also at noon tomorrow. I believe Sagi will further explain things when you get there. Untill tomorrow, ladies."
He left the women alone in the healing ward, proceeding to his own chambers. Dextros had told him beforehand under whose care the two would fall, but he was now utterly delighted to know that the one under his care was new to the lore. He would have fun teaching her.
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Update: I first wrote this at 03.00 in the morning European time. So I'm hoping the new version posted about 10 hours later will be better and seem less 'rushed'. I know it's wrong to post something without rereading it, but hey, I hadn't slept in a while :p And oh crud, had to repost it thrice to get rid of some utterly idiotic mistakes, forgive me. Note to self...read thoroughly!
My parents are still going to retile the floor downstairs, but I have no ETA as to when it happens. All depends on the weather. If by Monday it is sunny, the dude who was going to do the tiling will fix his roof first. So fingers crossed everyone, or it'll be a one-week ticket to the stone age for me.
The description has been altered a little, hopefully for the better, and the Pandaran brewmaster is still there. Sagi and Dextros, I miss you guys so bad. I wanna go back to being the gruesome threesome from DD :(. Not that you'll ever read this, but writing it makes me feel at least a little better :p. Trevellian, possible prince charming? No idea really. Next chapter is coming up soon…. I hope
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What I explain here has no tie to the true warcraft history whatsoever! I've only gotten past the first war in the books and I think that war was reason enough for every one to hate warlocks, so naturally, people that are being hunted for what they are, will create a safe haven. At least I would :p. And since WoW still has the ability of creating warlocks, I figure that they are tolerated to some extent, hence the decree that stated: no warlock shall be slaughtered without proof or a fair trial. Plz don't shoot me?
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Ariluvstwlight: Good to hear you like the story, can't promise anything about updating though…my mind is as sporadic as the weather. Hopefully it's no longer as rushed, thank you for telling me.
Ector: Like it that you are liking the story . Well I kind of wondered what goes through their minds, especially in the imps since he seems so defiant and yet loyal to the bone. He was after all my levelling buddy until I figured out voids are better bodyguards. And that took…a while. Well that and I didn't want to waste space for soul shards. Curse them for not being stackable.
The Angel of Vengeance: You are? Wonderful. Thank you for the protection, just hope you didn't get mauled too badly. Don't want you to get battered because of me :p
Fgee: Gets out the first-aid kit let's take a look at that finger. Ah, just a little flesh wound. You should have no problem wielding your pitchfork with it.
Mixcow: Yes, I am a girl p, and I felt it was the least I could do.
Also thx to Zukassi and Someone for their wonderful reviews.