Disclaimer: I don't own Warcraft. But if you look hard enough around the role-play boards you might find me lurking around there as Cleavehoof.
A/N: Hah! Being on vacation with no computer is like being locked in a dark room where you can watch people having fun through a small window. And that was exactly what happened…. Maybe. Yes, I went on vacation and thus couldn't be around for a while. Then I hit a snag when I tried to work out the details on how Thralk gets around so damn fast. I got that now. Yay!
Oreo, Mekora is really cute. I cant put my finger on it. So strange, but he's so loyal to Yawna. And…. Dear, dear, just read the chapter.
Youkai yah Milla is just as cute as Mekora. And that's just what Var'Jun thinks about. He can't help himself, he has hardly any internal monologue.
Good for you Crimson you hit the 42 mark. I'm only on 30. -- Nice to see you back.
Yah Old Guy some chapters have to be dull in order to progress. This one is not.
Don't worry Yeth I use worse language. But Thralk is always losing them. He does have plans though, oh the plans he has.
Yay Starwolf I have stalkers. Wait, that might be bad. Heh, heh .:hides:. All the things you listed are answered in this chapter. 'Cept for Kat getting her memories back. You'll have to wait for that one. I also play, in case you were wondering, Cleavehoof the tauren on Sarumar.
And thanks to Kyn and Blood and Honor.
Chapter Twenty-Five: Have Hope
Thralk was smiling with pleasure. He had caught them once again. He would not underestimate Yawna again. She had proved great power was in her back at the Holocaust camp. This time Thralk would have something to show for his efforts.
One of the warlocks near him shifted. She opened her eyes and turned to face the summoner.
"Someone approaches."
Thralk's lip curled up in a snarl the rotting flesh could barely hold. He sniffed as the imp scampered back to the warlock that had given him the news. Supporting both the group of warlocks and the captured prisoners might prove a strain on his power.
"You will have to follow behind me." Thralk hissed at the head warlock, a formidable undead with a good head on his shoulders, "I can't afford to lose the ground carrying your dead weight."
The warlock sniffed and said nothing else, eyes down cast. No one messed with Thralk even if he did insult them. Most did not come out without some vital limb being burned off. The warlock enjoyed his arms and legs. And his tongue. Thralk was quite partial to burning off tongues. He enjoyed the gulping noise that was made when a person didn't have one.
Thralk marched past his group of corrupted mages to stand in front of Yawna. The tauren dwarfed him in size and the undead loathed looking up at her. He growled causing the void walker to force the huntress to her knees so he had a better position.
"My dear, it bothers me that you are elusive. I thought for sure I had you when you had been in my own camp for little more than two years."
"Your soldiers are not as loyal as you thought?"
"Not really. They seemed to have been moved by your serene and uplifting aura. Too bad for them. I had the entire camp slaughtered."
Yawna remembered the young guards that had watched over her. The children still in the camp. The soldiers who listened to her nightly for inspiration. All dead? The tauren paled.
"You know, at one point I sought to kill you to continue my plans. But maybe you would make a more powerful ally. What do you say Yawna? We could be powerful beyond belief."
Yawna drew back, her emerald eyes level with that of the undead's. Fiery red met with cool green for just a second before Yawna reacted to the proposal as best as she could.
Thralk snarled in rage when Yawna drew back her lips and spit in the undead's face. Wiping saliva from his already slimy countenance the summoner seethed with anger. He brought a hand up which caught the huntress under the chin. A line of trickling blood ran down her face.
By this time Var'Jun, Gwyn, Mekora, and even Milla were screeching and growling. The troll warrior, being closest to Thralk, lashed out with his long legs and hit the small of the Forsaken's back.
The warlocks stood nearby, unsure of what to do without orders from their leader. Thralk remained strangely quiet when it came to commanding his men, however, deciding instead to take this by himself.
"What you do now is only going to make it harder for you when I decide to deal with you." Thralk was loosing his usual calm, short temper sparking in his eyes. He glanced from Mekora, the undead rogue's eyes staring frantically at the ground, to Milla who was crying softly and watching him with a burning gaze of fear and fury.
Thralk chuckled almost insanely, a decaying, clawed hand reaching down to the small child and petting through her mane of hair slowly.
"Her skull is so thin." Thralk remarked almost conversationally. Yawna and Var'Jun both froze, Mekora looking up with surprise and Milla letting out a small sob. The tauren and troll exchanged glances.
"Don't you dare-" Var'Jun began, feeling suddenly extremely protective over the young of his race. The muscles in the wiry troll's arms began to tense but the void walker held fast, iron-like grip unable to be broken by the warrior.
At that moment something came rushing through the trees, the brush and debris snapping underfoot as the creature built up speed.
Weary Traveler launched himself from the trees. His muzzle opened wide in a vicious snarl. The fangs that lined the wolf's mouth glinted dangerously in the air for a second before the steel-trap jaw closed down on Thralk's throat.
Thralk screeched, the warlocks reacting immediately. Weary Traveler hung onto the undead's throat, ripping his head back in forth once in a while. Something such as this would have killed Thralk if he were not already dead. Instead the enormous amount of pain made the Forsaken summoner lash out at the wolf, Weary Traveler held fast though and was slowly grinding his teeth up the rotting flesh.
Yawna summoned the familiar cold power into her hands and burst it forth in a bright splash of blue light. She let it seep back into the earth and as she melded the magic to her own whim a geyser of steaming water jetted from the earth behind her and scalded the void walker. Even as she did the tauren stumbled. Pain seared across her body for a fiery moment, the pain of her enemies felt through her own muscles.
But Yawna recovered quickly. Another few jets of water took out the succubus holding Mekora and the void walker and imp who were keeping Milla and Var'Jun. The troll scooped up the younger child, supporting her in the crook of his arm and hacking away at the void walker now, broad sword beating a tattoo into the insubstantial flesh.
Yawna had taken out her axe, the bone ready to cleave through skulls and taste blood. But the tauren couldn't, her hands shook and sent tremors shifting up her arms. Thralk had finally managed to beat Weary Traveler off. If the undead had any blood left it would have been pouring out in turrets.
Using the blunt edge of her axe Yawna beat her way through the crowd of warlocks that had gathered around the wolf. She felt the blow every time it hit her enemies like a dull pain, a toothache rumble. There were fighting a losing battle, the warlocks and their demons too numerous to be battled off.
Thralk snarled. Through the fighting warlocks he spotted Mekora, the undead locked in a fierce battle with one who could have been his brother. Thralk remember his promise of vengeance, slowly creeping through the crowd to reach the rogue…
Yawna was fighting the leader of the warlocks. The undead was overpowering her, a long sword held near the tip of the tauren's face. Thralk had said that the leader had a good head on his shoulders. But then it dropped.
Yawna blinked, then writhed in anguish as the captain was decapitated in front of her. She winced, stepping backwards and shaking violently now. Arrows began to pepper the warlocks, barbed tips tearing at flesh and even breaking bones with the force they were shot.
A lanky elf was beating away joyfully with a long, slender sword. Behind her Yawna could see rows of night elves supporting bows, shooting down into the crowd while skillfully avoiding the defenders. Yawna spotted Gwyn among them keeping Kat close to her and directing the bowmen away from Mekora, Var'Jun and Milla, and Yawna.
Thralk snarled ferociously as his soldiers fell around him. With one last look at his losing side he fastened his hands around Mekora's neck.
"If I can't win then I will have something." He snapped, raising one hand and watching the sky for something.
Yawna froze, yelling desperately and trying to catch Gwyn's attention. She had seen Thralk avoid the merrily-killing night elf on the battlegrounds and snatch Mekora up from the battle.
Something rose over the tree line, a wide wooden disc that seemed to fly on it's own. The disc was at least a half-foot think and ten feet in circumference. Around the edges were a few leather straps, some hanging off the edge and others fastened down tight. Underneath the disc was a slight rim that formed a bowl. As the wood landed Yawna felt a gust of hot air rush from beneath it.
"What the hell." Var'Jun, still clutching Milla tight to him, seemed almost at a loss for words. Milla mumbled about 'dirty words' into his shoulder but was too afraid to look up.
"Hot air…" Yawna remarked suddenly, "Thralk's rising that with hot air…" Yawna had never seen the goblin's zeppelins but if she had the prospect of Thralk using the same principle on a chunk of wood still would have dazzled her. Did his ingenuity never cease? Yawna suddenly felt as if she would be battling him forever.
A frantic warlock, fresh from the battle and desperately trying to avoid going back in, pushed his way through the bodies of the dead. As he passed by Yawna and Var'Jun the warlock struck out with his sword, scraping it across Var'Jun's ribs and catching Yawna's arm.
As if he thought this was enough to please his master the warlock went running on. Var'Jun barked, clutching his chest and taking an ill-aimed swing at the warlock with his sword.
Thralk had reached the disc, an arrow sticking from his arm and his throat mangled and torn. He had paused to cauterize the wolf wound with a blast of heat to prevent his own death but anger was still fresh and angry in his mind. Behind him he dragged Mekora, the rogue struggling to get away but already wounded and losing strength.
Yawna plowed forth, trying desperately to catch up with the rogue and summoner. Her axe was of little use to her, Yawna knew that she could never kill. But as she ran for the two undead her hooves stumbled over a rock. For a precious moment, on the tauren didn't have, she looked down at the rock and her brain whirled. Picking it up Yawna hefted the heavy stone at Thralk.
The rock caught the summoner in the leg. Growling Thralk turned around, stumbling and losing his hold on the rogue. He clenched a fist, fire glowing around Yawna's legs and hooves. While she howled with pain and tried to beat down the fire Thralk scrambled on to the disc with a few of his warlocks and began to rise it, his hand fastening over the collar of Mekora's shirt.
Mekora wriggled as they rose and when the disc had just reached about eight feet of air height Thralk lost grip and let go. Mekora could have escaped right there, fallen to the ground and got away with minor injuries. But by some miracle of chance, some horrible miracle of chance, one of the leather straps hanging off the disc fastened itself to a hole in the undead's collar and he was stuck tight.
Yawna heard him screech as he was lifted over the tree line and out of sight. She summoned the water from the ground once again, dousing the fire and leaving her only slightly scorched. But the smell of blood hit the tauren with a burst of sickening pain that jolted up her legs and arms. The warlocks who were left behind by Thralk were fighting even fiercer now that they knew their leader could not save them.
A wash of pain came over Yawna once more when she felt the warlocks' desperation and death. They were fighting hard, maybe hard enough to defeat the elves that had come to the defender's aid. One came up behind the stricken Yawna, raising an axe high above her head and smiling maliciously.
Everything went black…
Yawna felt something cool and wet rest on her forehead. She sighed softly, allowing whoever was there to comfort her.
Someone was singing in a soft baritone voice. Yawna could hear Taurahe, her native tongue soothing her better than any medicine could have at that point. She recognized the words immediately, it was an old Tauren song often sung by nomads.
I have hope for you my child, my child.
For the war you might never have to know.
I pray for you my love, my love.
For the times peace plateau.
I wish for you my heart, my heart,
That you may begin anew.
I long for them my soul, my everything.
The carefree times with you.
The voice faded away softly and behind it Yawna could hear the voices of her companions. Milla was trying to sing along, substituting her own made up word for those of the tauren's language. Yawna caught several female voices she didn't recognize with Gwyn among them all talking in fast Darnassian that her head hurt too much to translate. Behind this she could hear the endless bickering of Var'Jun and Kat.
Yawna opened her eyes slowly as she adjusted to the bright sunlight streaming through what appeared to be an open roof. For a moment she was glancing at the expanse of bright blue sky and the clouds like seed pods floating through the air on feathery stalks. She sighed.
Then something blocked the tauren's view. She sat up quickly, rubbing her eyes to make sure she was seeing what she really thought. Another tauren?
"You should not be sitting up." the calm voice spoke softly, the tauren in front of Yawna smiled warmly and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder to push her back on to the bedroll she had been leaning against.
"What happened?" Yawna's head burst with new pain before it slowly receded away. She winced as it did but slowly pushed it out of her mind and continued, "The warlocks and Thralk and… Mekora!"
"Shhh," Var'Jun stalked over, his face a mask of psychotically pain. Regret and sorrow washed over Yawna in great waves as the Awareness once again noted the trolls depression. He and Kat had been fighting.
As he walked over the troll clapped the tauren on the shoulder, smiling raggedly before crouching down near Yawna and sighing as his back cracked.
"You owe him a thanks Yawna," Var'Jun smiled at the bull sitting next to him, "Ahusaka saved your life. And he certainly made a dent in the warlocks."
Yawna blinked, studying the tauren critically for a moment. He was tall and brawny, a wide chest and thick muscles bunching along his arm in ripples. His dense fur was the color of dirt after rain, a deep coffee color. His rich chocolate eyes were downcast humbly at that moment. Two thick black horns poked from his deep tawny mane and a braided beard ending with a brass ring dangled from his chin. The tauren was clothes in heavy leather armor that smelt like fire and home. He was carrying a heavy staff on his back as thick as a sapling tree.
Yawna held out a three-fingered hand, smiling graciously at the tauren. "You have my thanks."
The bull blushed slightly and grasped her hand. "It was not a problem." His voice was deep and intense as his eyes.
An elf in the distance called out, sweet tones from the night elf pouring over the small area they were in.
"We need a healing wave over here. Melui is suffering."
"Ah," Ahusaka stood hastily and nodded deeply to Yawna, "I am needed. Maybe we can speak later?" With that the tauren meandered off, heavy hooves pounding on the wooden slats that made up the floor to the room they were in.
Yawna looked around slowly. The abode they now resided in was all wood. The boards on the floor were waxy-smooth from so many feet traveling them and the walls were scuffed and worn in a pleasant homey way. Bedrolls, cushions, and mats littered the floor to create a comfortable space. A small fire burnt in the middle surrounded by large chunks of stone to control it. The smoke from it rose up to the semi-open ceiling and leaked through the cloth that formed it.
"What happened?" Yawna repeated.
Var'Jun curled his legs under him in a more comfortable position before smiling raggedly and gesturing around with a bandaged arm.
"After Thralk left the warlocks got desperate. There weren't enough of them, they knew that. They would all have been shot and killed or taken prisoner. But for some reason Thralk had equipped them with some damn gnome explosives and the warlocks turned mad. They detonated the bombs too close to themselves… and us for that matter. The carnage was horrible. We lost at least three elves right off and wounded a huge amount of others. Another five died from their injuries last night."
"The elves Gwyn brought us refused to fight after their comrades had been wounded. They wanted to go back and tend to them before they died. If Ahusaka hadn't come you and I would have been worm meat. He beat them back like nothing I've seen before using that ruddy tree stump eh calls a staff. Heh, he seemed pretty smitten by you, fighting over your body after you had fallen."
Yawna looked away for a moment and Var'Jun actually chuckled this time. "C'mon now you used to tease me all the time. It's pay back now."
"So we are where the elves live?" Yawna asked finally.
"Sort of. Gwyn has contacts near Stormwind. They call themselves the 'Oei Mahora' or 'Those Unbound.' They're some strange elite group of elves who have branched of from the Night Elves alliance with the other factions and consider themselves somewhat godly. They look down on other races and seem to find us like little children who need to be protected. They're not hostile but they don't seem to favor us being here."
"We've been here for just a night now. Ahusaka never left your side and Kat and Gwyn have been around tending wounds. I went hunting so the elves would lighten up on their talk of starvation, they were afraid we'd eat everything. I'm not wounded badly as some. You took a nice blow to the arm and you were covered in burns though I suspect the Awareness had something to do with your mysterious sleep. Kat has a few burns on her arms from the explosions but they are healing quickly and Gwyn only received a few cuts."
"Where is she?" Yawna sat up now, heedless of the pain that burst in her head to fade away again. Suicidal warlocks apparently made a bit of a dent on the Awareness.
"Gwyn's off talking to the leader of the 'Oei Mahora.' He's the only male I've seen here and I think they must have known each other before. She's awfully bitter towards him."
"An old love?"
"Maybe." Var'Jun sighed. Yawna caught his eyes, roving slightly across the small room, to rest upon Kat. She gave the troll a pat on the shoulder.
"She'll come around Var'Jun. Somewhere in there she has to remember something of us. Maybe she just needs some reminding."
"She's doing all in her power to try and be who she used to be since I told her. But she's acting so hostile towards me since I didn't give her that last piece of the puzzle. I know you don't think this is for the best but… Thralk wouldn't give pause to harming her if he knew that it would hurt one of us. And I need no one to have blackmail over me. I have my people to think of as well."
"What happened to Weary Traveler?" Yawna clenched her teeth hoping the brave wolf was all right.
"No worried there." Var'Jun smiled, "Your wolf ripped out Thralk's throat and only sustained minor injuries suck as bruises. One of his legs was fractured but the elves have put a splint on it. Thralk's warlock's couldn't get a good hit on him for fear of hitting thier leader. Weary Traveler's resting somewhere by the fire right now, the lazy mutt." Var'Jun's voice was admiring though.
Yawna nodded, her face creasing into a worried look. Someone was missing though. With a jolt the tauren remembered.
"What of Mekora? Was he spotted?"
"I'm afraid not," The troll really did look sorry, "Some elves scouted down where Thralk had flown off, on Gwyn's orders of course, but they saw nothing. There's no telling where he could be now or what Thralk's doing to him. I'm sorry Yawna."
The tauren nodded, her eyes downcast. Ahusaka's voice in the distance made her ears perk up. Who was he, and was he to be trusted?
Thralk crooned softly from the doorway. Mekora winced into the corner of the large room, the cold stone icy against his face as his heart hammered a tattoo into his chest. The stench of fear seeped into the air and the summoner breathed it in delightedly. It gave him strength, this fear, and power beyond what Mekora could have imagined it did.
The rogue, chained to the wall effectively with thick steel cuffs, whimpered and looked up glassy-eyed at his once master. Thralk was holding something that Mekora had only heard of, but something that was whispered like a nightmare amongst the soldiers.
It was a whip of plates of stone instead of leather or even metal plates. Fashioned by unknown causes the deadly weapon could be spread through with flames under the summoner's control and never melt. Rockbite, the name dubbed to Thralk's chosen device of torture. He curled it through his hands lovingly, marveling at how the miniscule plates of stone, some as thick as his finger winding down until they were no wider than a whisker, moved so smoothly.
"Mekora," Thralk purred, "You could be powerful. And I could help. Come now, I've had high hopes in you for a while."
"No…" Mekora faltered, "You never knew me before I went with Yawna."
"Maybe that's what you were told, but it's a lie." Thralk was close now. He ran a finger almost lovingly over the rogue's face. Rockbite curled around Mekora's neck, loose and pleasantly warm. The rogue whimpered again.
"Why won't you tell me Yawna's plan?" Thralk's voice dripped with honey. He stroked the undead's back, smiling as this ran shivers of fear down the rogue's spine.
"B-because she is a m-mother to me." Mekora's voice trembled with terror.
"I could be a father, brother, and kin you desire. Tell me what I need to know."
"I can't."
Mekora felt Rockbite tighten around his throat and the stone began to heat up.
"Then you will suffer."
Yay! A new character! I wanted to call him the Native American word for 'tall bull' because that made sense but it turned out to be Hotuaekhaashtait and that didn't exactly roll of the tongue easy. Instead Ahusaka's name means 'wings' because I felt he' be a sort of guardian to Yawna. There's a bit of history for you.
Sorry it took me so long to get this chapter out. Summer is full of surprises. Though they aren't always good. Painting houses is a bore.