Disclaimer: WARCRAFT! NOT! MINE!….. X1000
A/N: Well, I see that everyone enjoyed my last chapter. I felt sort of fuzzy inside that day. Feeling fuzzy as of late anyhow. Isn't that strange? But that means more romance for you guys. I'm thinking about changing the story to a tragedy/romance. Don't be surprised if I do. :Changes it:
Crimson Reaper you make me laugh. It's always funny to see you type my name because I do a double take like, 'WTF, where did she learn my name? Wait, oh yah, it's in my profile.' I read your profile too. :huggles you: I'm glad you like Raincaller so much! Geeze, you people all have something against Malchior. Sheesh:points to Azure Dragoness: All of you have a thing against Malchior! And do you know what I have to say to that?
Perfect.
And no, I'm sorry but neither you or your scorpid can kill Malchior though the thought is tempting. You see, the problem with this is :stops, goes slack eyed and thinks wonderfully of Malchior mauled by a scorpid: No, you just can't. The problem is I want to do it!
Kyn, yes they finally met Cairne. He was fun to write for. Heh, heh giant tauren guys….
Okay now then!
Chapter Thirteen: An Ocean and a Half
The land was a sea of grass, the hills of Mulgore rolling beneath flapping wings. Slowly it turned to the red-brown, rusty hued soil of the barrens. Plainstriders squawked and squabbled over small nuts and seeds, the roaring of a high mane lion carrying up though the air.
"It's beautiful." Kat breathed, leaning over the edge of the Wind Rider. She was sitting astride it with both legs facing out, her dress flapping over Var'Jun's legs. He was surprisingly silent for a while, a brooding and thoughtful look over his face.
"Don't fall," the troll chided the priestess as the Wind Rider hit a patch of bumpy wind and made her lose her hold for a moment. He couldn't help but smile at the sour expression on Malchior's face.
"It's dry," Gwyn remarked sadly, "I could never stay here. A night elf needs the cool waters of a river and the dark shade of a tree." The elf shook her head, "Then again, what would I know. The caravan hardly ever traveled in the Night Elf lands. They might never again."
Yawna patted her companion on the back with a heavy three-fingered hand. She smiled comfortingly, looking down on the Barrens. "You might think that, but here is one of the places that tauren feel closest to our goddess, the Earthmother. Tauren see the raw beauty of the land that is kept pristine."
"You barbarians have religions?" Malchior spit angrily. He seemed to be feeling very spiteful as of late, "Do you sacrifice virgins or children?"
Kat looked as if she was about to say something but another gust of bumpy air made her stop. Instead Var'Jun, who had doubled over and his face flushed and pallid, looked up with an impatient glint in his orange-yellow eyes.
"Quiet tin man or I'll carve you open." He snorted, gritting his teeth.
"Should have warned us you get air sick Var'Jun." Yawna shook her head, "They have herbs for that." She smiled as the troll grumbled a reply in orchish. Malchior looked more confused than the rest of them, but only Yawna understood the discreet word he had used (not something usually taught to those trying to learn the language).
"Keep steady," Kat placed an arm around the troll's shoulders as he wavered slightly. "Don't want you falling." The priestess's voice was smoother than usual, a secret smile playing across her lips. Var'Jun blinked, a surprised look crossing his eyes before he settled down, still clutching his stomach but looking far more serene.
Malchior snorted, an ugly look on his square jaw. He put his hand on the hilt of his sword, gripping it tightly as if it were Var'Jun's throat. The troll didn't notice, his eyes now focusing down on to where Kat's flowing dress was flapping in the wind over his knees.
Gwyn leaned over to his into one of Yawna's huge ears. "I would have given anything to be a fly on the wall for their conversation earlier." The tauren nodded back at her, watching the two from the corner of her eye. Her Awareness was filtering through their thought, peace and comfort surrounding them. The angry red aura of Malchior made the tauren feel rather sick.
"I think we're close to Ratchet." Yawna remarked, looking ahead. The land dipped, a small entrance in between the two large land rises. Ratchet was full of large, two story buildings with small doors that could barely fit their tauren neighbors. There were boats docked in it's prosperous bay, small emerald green goblins working the ropes. They called wares to a medley of Horde and Alliance members in high pitched, grating voices that demanded attention.
The Wind Riders landed lightly, a sole dwarf hurrying forwards to meet them. Var'Jun looked surprised for a moment, his air sickness hindering him slightly as he reached to the hilt of the sword on his back. But the dwarf waved genially, his smile stretched over his ruddy face.
"Dun' worry," he called in a roguish voice, his hands closing on the large leather collar that circled the neck of Yawna's mount. He crooned to the beast shortly before winking at the group. "Cairne told me you were comin'. I'm one of his contacts, how did you think they bred such big Wind Riders without the aid of some of the finest Stormhammer griffon queens, eh?"
The dwarf left little room to talk, but his laughter was infectious and the small company settled. Malchior was still seething though, his face holding shock and disbelief.
"What do you mean, 'Cairne's contact?' Do you mean to tell me that there are Alliance members in league with that wind bag?" He slipped off the Wind Rider looking as if someone had punched him in the stomach.
"O' course." The dwarf narrowed his eyes, "And don't you be insultin' Cairne in front o' me. That tauren's got the right idea of how we should be gettin' along. No one can argue wi' that."
The packs were quickly pulled from the Wind Riders, their joyful dwarf acquaintance hurrying them along. He introduced himself as Copperbeard before hurrying them along in taking their supplies. The ship was coming soon and the next wouldn't come for a while.
"Cairne has some suspicions that Thralk is sendin' some assassins after you guys, so be on the look out. Oop, there's the ship. Hurry up you all, wouldn't want to keep a goblin waiting. You know their motto, time is money friends. Now git' and have a safe trip."
They barely had time to wave goodbye to the cheerful Copperbeard before being shooed of to the ship. It was a large, worn affair with huge oaken boards and at least three floors. Already there was a fair amount of different races on it, all staying on one side or another. Ratchet and it's ships might be neutral but the feelings there were definitely not.
A goblin greeted them at the dock. He smiled as he noticed the group as if sensing something from them. Yawna's guess that he was another one of Cairne's contacts was right, for he handed them a slip of paper and nodded.
"Making a special trip for you." he chuckled, "Rooms downstairs. Cairne gave me a lot of money for it, but you're going straight to the shores near the Undercity." He winked, motioning them on.
"Lucky for us." Gwyn remarked, setting down her bag as willing goblin's strode forwards hoping for a tip as they brought them to their rooms. "I would hate to have to walk through that area. I saw the Sepulcher once from a distance. Nasty place that is."
"Even though it's full of cool waters and shady trees, Gwyn." Var'Jun chuckled, his air sickness passed. He smiled at the annoyed look from Gwyneth, the elf rolling her eerie glowing eyes.
"You are a Prince Var'Jun, shouldn't you act more stately?" Kat asked, digging a copper from her pocket and handing it to the eager goblin. As he scampered off Var'Jun gave the priestess a wounded look.
"Just because you all know that now I don't want it to change your attitude. I don't want that title at all though it was forced on me. Ignore it completely, please." The troll threw a bag roughly into his room, the supplies bouncing off the hammock inside and landing on the floor with a muted thump.
"Don't worry Var'Jun." Yawna said, her eyes piercing Malchior because it looked as if he had something nasty to say. When he shut up the huntress continued, though the paladin noticed her wolf was still watching him.
"I don't know about you all, but I'm headed out on deck. I've never been on a ship before, and it's a little stuffy down here anyways." the bulky tauren mistress shimmied her way through the small corridors designed with goblins in mid, her friends following after her.
The deck was empty of passengers, but the goblins hurried back in forth with high voices on the air and good spirits all around. Already Yawna's team was tired. Riding on the Wind Riders was not much effort, but the same way we would feel after riding on a plane is the way they felt now.
"Meet back for dinner," Yawna said as they went their separate ways to look through the ship. "I need to discuss what we're going to do next."
Kat watched Var'Jun disappear into the bar. She paused for a moment, the huge ship had almost everything. But it was no wonder Var'Jun had gone there. He always drank away his sorrows. For a moment Kat thought she would follow him, her mind traveling back to where his arms had been warm around her.
"No," she whispered to herself, "I don't know why I would follow him anyways. Lech." She snorted, taking instead the stairs to the middle floor. There were only rooms there though, small ones for third class, second class ones that were still very tight, and the first class ones she and her friends were staying in.
Finding nothing of interest there she went down another level. The air there was silent and still, not a soul touching the pristine silence of the hold. It was full of odd shaped bags, heavy wooden kegs, barrels that smelt of brine and salt, and large crates covered in dirty sheets. To the inquisitive priestess though, it was a gold mine.
She began to inspect the tankards of what appeared to be ale, her eyes taking in the way the wood grained. The human was usually very curious, though lately she had been shut in and reserved. But the hold was too much to turn down and soon she was inspecting everything with a close eye from salty barrels of pickles to a giant carved figure head that usually belonged on a boat but was now resting against the hull.
"Kat," Malchior's voice interrupted her thoughts. She froze for a moment, looking around as if expecting him to leap at her, but then he made his way out from behind a crate. He was smiling, though not in the way one would look at an equal, but more as if Kat were his possession.
"Why are you down here?"
"I was just looking about." Kat replied, turning back to watching the figure head. It was an angel, but rather a troll angel. Malchior regarded this with a scoff before looking back at her.
"He doesn't deserve your pity." Malchior remarked as he placed a heavy, gloved hand on her shoulder. She looked up at him with a puzzled look, her eyebrows knitted together in thought.
"What?"
"The troll," Malchior shifted his hands to both her shoulders to make her face him. She flinched, Kolkua's face leering out through her mind. The woman steadied herself though, staring back into the face of her childhood friend.
"The troll doesn't deserve your pity. He is just a beastly creature and really Kat, I don't see how you tolerate either of our Horde company. But Don't worry, we'll be away from them soon, darling."
"What do you mean?" Kat demanded, fighting down a wave of anger. She clenched her teeth at Malchior's blind prejudice.
"When we get to the main land I've decided we are going away. We'll escape them , I'll fight them off if I have too. Even the elf, she's almost as bad as they are for accepting them." Malchior laughed shortly, "We'll escape and get married Kat, back where we used to live."
"What are you talking about? How can you just expect I-"
Malchior interrupted her. "We'll go back to Stormwind and get married. It was your parents dieing wish, and we are already betrothed through an arranged marriage. My parents are still alive, they'll take us in and-"
"Malchior please," he had pulled the protesting priestess very close to him and once again her mind was reeling, "I.. I'm feeling sick. I have to go on deck. Can we… er… Can we talk about this later?"
Malchior smiled warmly though he seemed a little put out. "Of course my dear." He drew her even closer, giving a quick kiss. It was barely his lips brushing against hers but it set Kat's mind on fire as he let her go. She nodded quickly to him, running off through the crates.
When Kat was sure she was far enough away she leaned heavily against a crate. Her heart burned and she spit on the ground with a curse. A few years ago Kat would have basked in the paladin's love, but now she abhorred it.
"I need to talk to someone." she voiced out loud, her own tones sounding strangely strangled on the still air. Malchior must have left already. "Why do I feel like this? I should love him but I…" She trailed off, giving herself a mental shake.
"I can't get him out of my head." She dismissed the notion, her thoughts pinpointed on finding someone who could help.
"Have you ever been in love Kat?" The question interrupted the comfortable sleep of the night elf. The druid had been stretched out over a few boards on deck. Preferring the fresh air to the stuffy bottom she had slunk onto the boards and fallen asleep in a patch of sunlight with her spine stretched. It gave her more of a cat-like look than ever though she probably would have been rather peeved if she had known that a few of the men in the barn had noticed other things.
"I suppose you're not talking about Malchior?" Gwyn said , clearing the sleep from her eyes and twirling one elongated tuft of an eyebrow around her finger.
"I suppose not," Kat said after a couple of seconds, "I'm not exactly sure who I'm talking about Gwyn."
"I am," the druid replied shortly, her arms stretching into the air. Kat almost laughed at how the reserved and sometimes even formal elf had abandoned all to fall asleep on deck. "But I think I'll keep that to myself for now. What was it that you asked again?"
"Have you ever been in love," Kat repeated, her cheeks blushing scarlet, "I mean like, ever felt like you were in love with someone."
Gwyn laughed softly before nodding. "Oh yes, I don't think anyone hasn't been. Really, he was a strong and tall and a great rogue." Gwyn shook her head, her smile turned sad, "Died in the Fifth Regiment Raid on Thunderbluff. Big bull of a tauren took him out right before I got there."
"Oh Gwyn." The priestess put a hand on her friends shoulder, "But wait? You don't have a grudge against Yawna or anything?"
"It wasn't Yawna who killed him. I would be surprised if that tauren has ever even stepped on a bug. Besides, how can you have a grudge against Yawna? She's so agreeable." Gwyn shook her head, "I miss him, but he's really here with me so I'm never really alone. Why do you ask?"
"Because Malchior asked… Well he told me I was going to marry him, " Gwyn's face grew stern, "And He said it was my parents dieing wishes, and we already have an arranged marriage but…"
"But that's not what you want."
"I think so," Kat clutched her head, a sigh escaping her lips, "A few years ago I would have leaped for joy if he had asked me. But now I'm not so sure that's what I want. I never remembered him being so prejudice and sort of… forceful."
"If it was your parents wish then that's a very big deal but think of what they would say now. Really, I think they would want to follow your heart, though it sounds rather cliché. Truly, find happiness where you want to find it." Gwyn watched the priestess's face before putting in, "No matter what race he is."
"You-" Kat paused, then shook her head, "I need a drink." She sighed, thanking the elf hastily and walking into the bar with a thoughtful look across her face.
"I suppose I won't get a sober conversation until we dock." Yawna said, sighing as she watched Var'Jun making more bets. Silver pieces flew in all directions, the suave troll dictating out the highest better. He lifted a mug the size of his head to the sky, bolting down the amber liquid in quick gulps. Men around him cheered.
"I don't suppose so. Malchior's lurking around here too and Kat is somewhere drinking her mind away." Gwyn shook her head, tipping the small glass of fine wine she had to her lips.
"At least she has a reason other than betting," Yawna shook her head at the antics of the troll, "Especially after the conversation you two had earlier. I just hope that those two come to reason. I'd hate to see them both suffer from it."
Kat's voice cut across the bar. Heads turned to see the priestess stumble up to the troll warrior, Var'Jun glancing at her with a worried expression. She was disheveled, smelling heavily of alcohol and looking as if she had been out of civilization for a few days. She smiled at the troll with the glint of intoxication in her eye.
"I'll bet with you Var'Jun." She chuckled, "I bet I can drink one mug of ale faster than you can." She smiled as the crowd around her cheered, the drunken humans of the group circling closer to the attractive priestess in her semi-conscience state. Var'Jun put a protective arm forth against them before hissing to her.
"You don't hold beer good, do you Kat," he asked her, a soft tenderness in his voice. She didn't even realize the situation she was in, smiling goofily at him and raising an already full mug.
"Nope I don't." She laughed loudly and the humans pushed against Var'Jun's arms, "Here's the stakes. You win and I dance with you, and you lose and you don't get to sneak into the packs of my undergarments anymore."
This brought great bouts of laughter and cheers from the surrounding men. The troll blushed furiously and looked across at Yawna and Gwyn for help. They just shrugged, Yawna tilting her head in one direction. The warrior followed her cue and saw Malchior already brandishing his sword.
"Alright then," Var'Jun sighed internally. He couldn't let the priestess wander off by herself. "It's a bet then." The troll raised a similar mug, his smile broadening. Any human who had drank as much beer as he had that night would have been close to death. But Var'Jun was no human.
The race began when one of the surrounding people yelled 'Go!' The troll had a sure advantage, his smile lifted over the corners of the mug. He had a trick in mind, as usual, and as the priestess reached the middle of the mug he leaned over, his spare hand tickling the side of her face.
The woman sputtered, beer flying everywhere. Her mug spilled another quarter of the way, her eyes glaring furiously into him. She sighed as he gulped down his last mouthful, grinning broadly at the crowd and holding out his hand to the wary priestess.
"I cheated," he stated simply, "You win. No more panty chasing for me." He laughed, almost sourly, trying to guide the drunken priestess from the crowd of wolves. She resisted though, turning to face the troll. When she spoke her words were rather slurred but Var'Jun's eyes widened nonetheless.
"But I wanted you to win," she shook her head, her cinnamon hued bun of hair now mussed and a few strands falling across her face, " I wanted you to win so I could dance with you. Please?"
Var'Jun paused, looking weakly to Yawna and Gwyn for help. The two just shrugged though, both winking at the troll. He wrinkled his nose and looked back down at the pleading priestess before a broad grin lit up his face.
"Strike up a fast tune," he called to the nearby bards, "A good fiddle song. Everyone join in!" He clapped his hands, sweeping up the human into his arms and twirling her about the dance floor. A hearty round of cheers followed, the men and women all grabbing each other and following the crazy warrior.
Yawna shook her head. "Would you look at the both of them. I can't believe neither of them have realized it yet." She chuckled. The priestess had her head rested on Var'Jun's chest, her fierce hazel eyes at rest and closed for the moment. The troll had abandoned his post as the great entertainer and was now enveloping the priestess, his hooded eyes conveying rapture.
"Gwyn?" the elf should have responded by now. The tauren turned to see her, her eyes once more clouded over and blank. She was shaking badly, her entire form quivering.
"Troubled waters now." She spit, trying to stand. Yawna stood with her, Weary Traveler beginning to bark and raise his hackles. At that moment a scream made the air stop. One of the delicate women travelers had seen Malchior coming forth, his sword brandished. The music stopped and Var'Jun froze, Kat clinging to his chest now.
"Let go of her." Malchior hissed, his voice carrying a deadly edge. "You listen up now troll. Katherine is my girl, and from here on end I don't want you to even touch her." He poked at the troll with his sword, an attempt to separate the two with the blade dangerously near to his skin.
"No!" Kat yelled, her hand guiding the sword away. She quickly face the troll, pulling him down towards her. "Kiss me, make him shut up." Her words were still slurred, but she closed her eyes, her breath bated.
Var'Jun was frozen. He stared down into the face of the priestess, his eyes holding infinite sadness. With a soft murmur her straightened up.
"You are very drunk Kat. I wouldn't want you to do anything that you'd regret." His words were tender and delicate, but the were laced with a disappointment that showed. He shook his head, facing Malchior, "And as for her being yours, I would give her a chance first. She isn't as helpless as you think."
But Malchior had reached his limit. He strode forwards, the sword clutched in his hands. His eyes were murderous, a slow breathing reaching through the silence and piercing Yawna's ears. His divine hatred was hidden behind his eyes and when he reached up to strike it seemed to the viewers it was as if the world had stopped.
The boat tipped suddenly. It almost capsized, a giant wave crashing into the hull. Candles flickered out as water leaked in through open port holes that the waves tickled. A great stream of it spilled through the entrance way and Yawna felt it hit her hooves with a cold curling. It seemed as if all had gone blind, the darkness penetrating.
A goblin hurried down the stairs. He was shrieking and calling out for the hands to be on deck. He stepped though, his candle illuminating the scene that made Yawna want to faint.
Var'Jun was clutching his side. Between his fingers blood spilled, inky black and dark red in the flickering candle light. It was a gaping wound, one right below his ribs and very deep. Var'Jun was gritting his teeth, one hand clutching Kat's arm in a vice grip.
Kat was as pale as a ghost. She gave a choking sob, kneeling down to take a closer look at the wound. Her priestess's instinct kicked in, soothing blue light creeping through her fingertips and seeking to heal the wound. It was a losing battle.
Malchior was close by as well, the candlelight revealing the troll's blood dripping off his sword and cumulating into a puddle below it. He neither looked sorry nor smug, more surprised by the fact of what had just happened.
"The ship is sinking." a passenger called.
Wow, I really am so mean. It must be terribly, for you as the readers to not know who will die when, but as I said before there will be one of the original four that will die. And believe me, there are many more chapters and plot twists to come. On the subject of Malchior, he's a jack ass. There's no getting around that. But then again, he will get what he deserves soon. :evil grin: