Chapter 8
At dawn, or when Rykers assumed was dawn, four guards entered the cell. They were humans, like her, dressed in black jumpsuits and red bandanas that covered the lower half of their mouth. But they were humans, so she wasn't afraid.
Instead, as promised, they beat Rykers with their fists and feet. When she tried to resist, they beat her with their batons, so she stopped resisting. When they were done, they left her, and moved onto the undead. Her head bobbed lazily, and a solid blow to the left side of her skull and caused enough swelling that her vision was already distorting. Her ears still worked, so she heard the Frosaken.
"Don't touch her," he warned.
She twisted her head to look back, and saw the walking corpse had taken a defensive stance between the guards and the unconscious tauren.
One of the guards swung a hand at the undead, but he ducked and threw the guard off balance. Perhaps in his prime, the Forsaken would have lasted longer, but a second guard swung his baton to his spine, and the body crumpled to the ground. And they beat him, and he lifted his arms over his head to protect himself, so they beat him harder.
Good, she smiled. Monster, abomination. It deserved to die. It deserved to be hurt. She just wished that she could grind her fists against its bones herself.
As three of the guards continued to beat the undead down, the forth casually approached the still unconscious tauren. He lifted his baton over his head, intent to bring it down and crush the cow's skull. It was then that the undead surprised her.
With some remarkable reserve of strength, he pushed his way out of the assault and tackled the forth human, driving him to the ground. And he wailed his fists onto the human's skull, and bit at his skin, until the other three guards finally restrained him. Two held him down, as a third smashed his baton over the undead's body. One final blow across the Forsaken's skull broke the baton in half, and the Forsaken stopped his struggles and went limp in the human's grip.
They threw him down, his body collapsing and lying there, loose and dead. The fourth guard stomped his boot into the Forsaken's head before ordering the others out of the cell. He kicked Rykers in the ribs as he passed. The door to the cell closed and heavy locks tumbled into place.
Rykers lay there in the darkness for a long time, maybe hours, she didn't know. She didn't know how much time passed before a match was struck, and slight illumination glowed in the darkness. Rykers looked to the source, and watched as the Forsaken lighted his lantern and walked over to the tauren. His movements were slow, almost painful to watch. He always lead with his left foot, then braced himself and struggled to pull his right leg forward. He settled down before the tauren, folding his legs under him, and he sat, inspecting her wounded breast with care.
"How can you be conscious?" she muttered.
"I've been hurt far worse that this in my lifetime," he said in ragged, painful breathes. "Sam needs me."
The wound in her breast had stopped bleeding, which was good, but there was still the risk of infection, and he wasn't sure how much blood she had lost. Humans could lose a maximum of five pints before succumbing to death. The tauren woman was twice the size of a human, did that mean she could lose up to ten before she would pass from this world. There was nothing he could do, and that made him grind his teeth against each other. Just like when the plague swept through his lands, and everyone around him fell like cut stalks of wheat.
Eck never spoke, save inaudible whispers whenever the tauren regained consciousness for moments at a time. He spoke in a lumpy, orcish tongue, so even if Rykers was in range, she wouldn't have understood him. Inevitably, she had the belief that they were talking about her.
Not that she needed any more reasons to hate him. His existence, the putrid stench of his rotting flesh, made her blood boil and run cold. And the lantern. He kept it for himself, kept the light for himself. He was a creature of darkness. He didn't deserve it. But he had it. She should kill him. She could twist his head off his body. His flesh was weak and she was strong. It'd be easy.
"You may deceive them, but not me," Rykers finally said.
Eck had been hovering over the tauren cow, changing the bandage crafted out of what little clothing he could spare. He looked over his shoulder, snarled, and turned his attention back to his work.
"You're going to betray them one day, aren't you. They are your comrades, and they are going to betray them, like you always do."
"Just wrap yourself up in the blanket of stupidity to keep warm," Eck cackled.
"Don't think we don't know about your plagues," Rykers muttered. "You'll all be dead long before you can ever release it."
"Are you honestly that stupid?" Eck asked, finally turning his attention to the human, holding the lantern up."We have plenty of plagues to release, and any one of them could ravage through your kingdoms. Do you know why we haven't released them? It would be so much easier if we cleared a few of you out after all. Fewer attacks on Tarren Mill. Free up the resources in the Basin. Killing you all off would solve so much.
"Do you know why we haven't released the plague? Because that plague would spread, and it would kill the Horde. It would kill the orcs, and the tauren, and the trolls. It would kill those who have come to accept us as family. Because they may not always trust us, they may not even like us, but when we were helpless, they saved us. When you shunned us, they opened their arms. And for seven years they have fought alongside us, died alongside us. You should bow down and thank the orcs every chance you get, because if not for them we'd of eradicated you a long time ago."
For the tenth time in one day, the tauren cow woke up and for the first time she attempted to sit up. The undead was immediately at her side, aiding the muscles in her back, relieving some of the strain. And they talked in their language, while Rykers sat at the other side of the cell.
"Private Rykers?" the tauren asked, struggling to speak common.
The human sneered and said nothing.
"Have you any idea where we are?"
"No," she offered, after a long pause.
"No idea where we are? Or who has captured us?"
"I said no," she shouted.
The tauren sighed heavily, holding her wounded side. "We have no way of reaching out to the outside world. Our captors only enter once a day to beat us. Can you think of anyway that we may escape?"
Rykers shook her head.
"We must think of some way, or we will die."
"Tomorrow we may have our chance. When they come in to beat us, that may be our only chance. Should we work together. Should the human decide to lower herself and work with us."
"Jon," Sam said, with a sternness in her voice that silenced the Forsaken. "Why are they doing this though."
"You and I make sense," Eck muttered. "If they are Alliance, than they are beating us for kicks, and when they get tired of us, they'll kill us. But why the human?"
"These aren't Alliance that have us," Rykers said. "They are Defias Brotherhood they aren't Alliance. Alliance wouldn't do this to me. I am a soldier of the Alliance."
"So was I," Eck muttered.
"Jon," Sam said again.
"You are monsters," Rykers shouted. "You are demons. You are disgusting corruptions of my noble people. You ceased being human, ceased being Alliance the moment you changed."
"We didn't choose to change, human. But you chose to forsake us. The Light chose to forsake us."
"And you chose to attack us. You chose to raid our towns. Even when you broke from the Lich King, your aggression wasn't sated."
"Self defense," he mocked. "We kill you because you'll kill us. Despite how much easier it would be for you if we just lay down and die, it is not our preference."
"Jon," the tauren said, her booming voice filling the cramped confines of the cell. "Jon, its not worth it." Sam snorted, turning to Rykers. Despite how you may feel about us, for now we are in the same predicament. And so we must work together."
Eck grunted. "Until we escape."
"Until I escape," Rykers conceded.
Sam sighed. "That's the best I can hope for," she muttered. "These are Defias? Why would they keep us? They haven't attempted interrogation. If they want to execute us, they would do just that. They wouldn't bother keeping us alive, feeding us, however few scraps."
"They're torturing us," Eck explained. "No reason. No motivation. Just because they can. They are children, angry at the world. And when the tire of us, they'll kill us. We just have to kill them first."
---
"How come I always have to be the bad one?" Gredel asked.
"What do you mean?" The draenei and the gnome were proceeding over the plains to the Jangolode Mine.
"I mean, how come you always get to be nice. You offer the suspect a way out. I have to beat the shit out of him."
"Gredel, take a long look at me. Then take a long look at you. Who do you think the suspect will be more afraid of? You're six and a half feet tall, I'm not even a yard. I'm adorable, you look like a demon, with those horns and hooves and tail."
"It's not fair. You sleep with demons."
"That was one time, and I was drunk. Why did I even tell you about that?"
"It's just not fair. You practice demonology. You should be the one that everyone's afraid of. You should be the one that tortures."
"No one said this was fair. War isn't fair. Deal with it." Wonki cupped her hand over her eyes and peered off to the horizon. "The mine used to belong to Stormwind, but it's fallen into the hands of the Defias. Fortunately, that means we got plenty of intelligence on it. There's only one main entrance, which is bad. Only one way to get in, only one entrance they need to cover. There's no way we can sneak in. Got to go straight through the front door. May be a few other entrances around the sides, but we haven't got the time to seek them out."
"Why are we the only ones being sent in? Why haven't the Alliance rooted out the Defias?"
"Don't care to spare the man power. Victory over the Defias, a bunch of pissed off, rowdy rebels doesn't look as good as defeating the Horde in Arathi. Couple civilians get kidnapped, they send us in because they have to do something, but there are bigger things to deal with. We're good though, they know well get the job done."
Wonki cupped her hands over her eyes again. "We should wait till night fall. Hopefully, the guards will be a little lighter." Wonki walked a little farther, finally reaching the shade of a large oak tree where she sat down. "Get comfortable."
"Is this wise? They'll outnumber us."
"Quality over quantity. Besides, we go slow. Take them a few at a time. Don't get overwhelmed. Keep them from running away and calling in reinforcements. I've done this before, with Bracha and Rendal. Kill em quick and quiet, not too hard."