Of Claws and Totems

Chapter 20

Maestra's Post

"I, for one, hope to avoid the troubles you two stir up." Miakoda said, clambering down off the island and waiting at the edge of the river flowing around them. Blackheart came next, followed closely by Kalara who held onto him for support. Once they reached the bottom, Kalara pulled out another vial of fish oil and gave them each the ability to walk on water again. Once the spells were completed, she swayed somewhat, but assured both of her companions that she was fine.

"It seems impossible for us to avoid some kind of catastrophe." Kalara said as they approached the bank. The simple act of casting the enchantment had taken a great deal of the little strength she had left. Once they were all on dry land and the shaman ended the water walking spell, Kalara felt suddenly drained and stumbled forward, luckily, into Blackheart's outstretched arms. She marveled at how he always seemed there to catch her. Not a bad quality to have in the one that you… well that you liked very much.

Steadying her, Blackheart looked searchingly into her eyes. "Kalara, let me carry you for a while. I'm surprised you were even able to cast anything after what you've been through."

Scoffing, Kalara said, "Carry me? You can't carry me all the way to Ashenvale."

Completely ignoring her, Blackheart undid the straps holding his sword to his back and handed all of it to Miakoda. "Would you mind carrying that for me? I don't want her to get hurt by it."

The tauren accepted the large blade and, loosening the straps to adjust for her larger frame, equipped the massive claymore. "No problem."

Kalara was about to object when Blackheart knelt down on the ground in front of her, his back to her, and back up suddenly. The draenei wasn't able to move in time and ended up falling forward onto his back. Before she could extricate herself from him, he put his hands under her legs and stood up, hoisting her up in the air with him, carrying her piggy back style. "What… what are you doing?" she cried. "Put me down you big fur…" she meant to call him a fur ball, but he was in his human form at the moment, "you big oaf! Unhand me you knave!" The last comment produced a hearty laugh from both Blackheart and Miakoda. Seeing that she wasn't going to get what she wanted she finally relented, letting Blackheart carry her as he set off at a brisk pace. "We need to get some mounts." She said halfheartedly.

Miakoda looked over with a gleam in her eye and said, "Do they make saddles for them?"

Both Blackheart and Kalara looked at her, then each other, in confusion. "For what?" The draenei asked.

The tauren looked over at the two then, using her fingers and acting like she was making measurements. "We have fine leatherworkers at my home. I'm sure they could make a saddle that would fit… a worgen!" Miakoda burst into a fit of laughter so hard it caused her to stop running.

Both Blackheart and Kalara joined in with the laughter. They all needed something to lighten the mood. Once they were able, they continued on at a good pace down the road towards Astranaar. Kalara leaned close to Blackheart, wrapped her arms around his collar, and rested her chin on his shoulder. Being so close to him for a long time… perhaps this wouldn't be too bad after all.

They traveled down through Darkshore for a few hours and were just entering Ashenvale when the sun began to set. They left the road and went a little way into the forest before finding a nice level spot for a camp. Blackheart left the others to the job of setting up the camp and getting a fire going while he went out to hunt.

Kalara had taken on the task of getting the fire going, but after multiple frustrating attempts she realized that she couldn't call any magic to her, at least not without a blinding headache popping up. Miakoda luckily thought to bring flint and tinder and before long had a small blaze lighting up their little campsite. They had cleared the area of sticks and stones and unfurled the bed rolls. Blackheart returned soon, carrying a few rabbits and a handful of herbs with which to season them. As he went to prepare them, Kalara practically tackled him out of the way. "Finally!" she said. "Something I can do to help."

She took the herbs and prepared them, mixing them in with the rabbits before setting it all on a hot rock to fry. Blackheart watched the entire process as if in a trance. When the food was finally prepared he was eager to try it and, to his delight, it was delicious. "I never knew you could cook so well," the worgen said, his admiration plain.

"Oh, it's nothing much really, just something that I remember learning from my sister."

"Nothing much? You should try not having cooked food for a few years, or, sometimes worse, army rations. This is amazing. Now I need to know what you can cook when you have a good selection of ingredients."

Kalara's face started to take on a red hue from blushing. "Well, then next time I get the chance I'll cook for you."

"It's a deal."

By the time they had finished it was already dark. A small sliver of the moon rose above them, casting the forest in a soft glow. "I'll take first watch." Miakoda volunteered. Blackheart decided to take the last watch; it was the one that got the least amount of sleep and he knew that Kalara was going to need at least her fair share of it, if not more.

Kalara watched as Blackheart, happy with his bed preparation, shifted into a worgen. She was always amazed at how he seemed to suck up light and make it darker when he turned into a worgen, but made it brighter somehow when he changed back human. "Why are you sleeping like that?" she asked as he plopped down onto the ground next to her.

He glanced over to her, his blue eyes meeting hers. In his worgen deepened voice he said, "It has been a very long time since I have slept on the ground as a human. The last time it happened I do not remember it being a pleasant experience. I woke up with parts of me hurting that I didn't know could hurt. When I became a worgen though, I was forced to sleep on the ground until I met you, and sometimes in a tree when it came down to it. Although it was forced upon me, as a worgen it is pretty comfortable to sleep curled up on the ground."

She nodded and then lay down next to him, trying to get comfortable. She hadn't often slept on the ground, and wasn't relishing it now. Even if they had brought bedrolls with them, she still preferred a real bed. After a few minutes of trying to get comfortable on the hard ground she sighed and sat up. When she looked at Blackheart she gave a start, noticing that he was still awake and watching her.

"Sorry, I can't seem to get comfortable."

"So I heard. You just don't do well being silent in the forest do you?"

With a self depreciating chuckle she said, "No… I suppose not."

"Well, come and lay on me then and see if that's comfortable."

Kalara stared at him for a few seconds, still not sure she had heard him correctly. "Come and lay on you? How will that be more comfortable than the ground? And how will you sleep?"

He laughed quietly. "You don't weigh enough to make me uncomfortable. You slept on me last night, remember." Her cheeks went scarlet at that particular thought. "Besides, what did you always call me? Fluffy, right?"

Seeing no harm in trying she turned her back to him and leaned back, laying partially on an arm and his stomach and rested her head on his shoulder. He was right, he was fluffy, and even though she knew he packed a lot of muscle under there, it was comfortable to lay on him. She was just thinking about what Miakoda would say when she came to wake her, but then sleep took her.

For many years, Kalara hadn't looked forward to sleeping. After the Exodar had crashed, her dreams, when she had them, had nearly always been bad. She would often dream of the crash itself, remembering the terrifying shudder that rocked their ship as its dimensional warp drives malfunctioned, sending the ship out of control through the Twisting Nether until it found, and crashed, upon Azeroth. Those that she had grown up with had been very young when they had followed Velen as he took his people to claim their freedom. Sometimes she would dream of the demons and blood elves pouring onto the ship as it tried to depart from Tempest Keep; she could hear the screams of her people as they were cut down. In some dreams they were all caught and killed and the Exodar never departed. Then there were the dreams about her family.

She had always hated the dreams of her family. She had loved them dearly, and to remember seeing them in her dreams as they were taken away from her always left her feeling hollow when she awoke. Whenever her parents were in the dream, it was always the exact same dream: she could see them, as she had when it had happened in real life, trying to reach her while the Exodar fell from the sky. They were both running towards her and were only a few yards away when they crashed. The crashing of the ship had knocked Kalara unconscious at the time, and when she had awoken she looked to where her parents had been. Instead of seeing them, all that was left was a mass of twisted wreckage and fire.

Her sister also inhabited a single dream, that of her walking onto the boat at the pier near the Exodar and sailing off into the distance, never to return. Those dreams had haunted her nearly every night after the crash until she had met Blackheart. When he had saved her the first time she hadn't dreamt of anything, but the night after the battle at Azure Watch something in her dreams had started to change. She was having one of her particularly nasty recurring dreams about being cornered by a demon in the Exodar and, instead of ending the way it usually did with her dying, a great black wolf had been between her and the demon and had protected her. At first she had thought it coincidence that Blackheart had helped her and then she started having a wolf in her dreams. As she had more and more dreams with the wolf in it, she was convinced that he was the cause. Now she would even have pleasant dreams, such as the one she was having now. She was in a nearly empty meadow, some gently rolling hills going away from her into the distance. She and the wolf were sitting under a lone tree, enjoying the shade and the breeze and just generally being lazy.

When she was awoken by Miakoda from her dream, she had been scratching the wolf behind the ears and gazing into its blue eyes. Not for the first time, the similarity between the wolf and Blackheart struck her. As she became more coherent she realized she was still laying on Blackheart. Thankfully the only thing the tauren had to say was, "Get up lazy bones; it's time for your watch."

While Kalara sat with her back to an overturned tree for her watch, she tried to conjure up some of her shamanistic magic. When she called the wind to her, the best she could do was make a few leaves stir up that had fallen on the ground. She fared little better with water, making a puff of vapor appear from her hands. Fire and earth both failed to be summoned completely. It felt almost like she was burnt out from the inside; the channels of power she usually felt coursing through her were raw and barely a trickle could be felt. It gave her a headache even trying to feel the power. She took the stick she had been trying to light on fire and threw it as hard as she could into the forest, sitting down with a frustrated sigh.

She heard a slight noise and a flash of light from the camp and looked to see Blackheart walking over to her in his human form. She looked up and checked the time, peeking through the canopy of trees to see where the moon was at. She had only been on watch for an hour. She looked back to him wondering why he was up already.

Blackheart sat down beside the shaman and leaned back against the log. He could smell the unease and frustration rolling off of her. That, more than anything else, was what had awoken him. They were both quiet for a while before he spoke. "What troubles you dear?"

She looked over at him then, picking her words. There would be no fooling him when it came to her emotions. "After what happened yesterday… I can't use my magic anymore. I couldn't even do something simple like light a fire last night. Now, the best I can do is rustle some leaves. How am I going to be able to help anyone like this? I'm practically useless! You have that great big sword and your strength, Miakoda has her bow, though she'll be leaving us soon enough. What do I have without my magic? I… don't know how I'll ever find my sister like this."

Blackheart looked at her for a while before carefully, and easily, picking her up and setting her down in front of him and wrapping his arms around her. She was almost used to being moved around by him as if she weighed no more than a feather. Once sitting there though, she relaxed and leaned backed against him, enjoying the closeness.

He remained silent for a little while longer before speaking. "You haven't lost your magic. What you did yesterday with the tornado… I've never seen magic of that magnitude channeled through one person before. Mages have died using the kind of power that you did, completely consumed by the torrent of power they were trying to wield. Warlocks get taken over by the demon's they try to harness, and druids lose control of themselves when they fall into so much magic. You are aware that you channeled more magic into that tornado than the Malfurion Stormrage don't you? He's had 10,000 years to work on his magic. I am still amazed at what you did. Your powers, I think, just need a break. You haven't even slept a full night since then. You will be more than enough help and you are not useless at all. It will come back, of that I have no doubt."

She smiled, cheered up by his words, and just leaned against him and enjoyed his company. Slowly though, she began to be able to tell that something was bothering him. His words had brought her a measure of comfort. Now it was her turn to do the same for him. She looked up at him to see his face set in something she had never witnessed from him. His eyes were open wide and he had a look of almost… fear on his face. She turned around and rested on her knees before cupping his face in her hands and forcing him to look at her. "What is it?" she breathed.

He looked into her eyes for a while before saying, "I was just remembering what happened today. When you started calming that storm I was… terrified."

"You? Scared? I don't believe it. I've never seen you scared. You died and weren't scared."

He closed his eyes and bowed his head a little before responding. In a quiet voice just above a whisper, he said, "I wasn't scared for me. I thought the amount of energy you were using was going to consume you. I was afraid that if I made it through it there would be nothing left of you. I have seen death, even experienced it. I've faced down a host of demons, blood elves, and feral worgen but never have I felt the same fear as I did when I saw you today." He looked to her then, the most serious look she had ever seen in his blue eyes. "I thought I was going to lose you. That is the single most terrifying thought that I know."

Kalara gently took his face in her hands. She could feel his pulse racing in his temples, and was still amazed that it scared him that much. She knew though, completely, what he felt like. She had healed him from serious injuries, had literally brought him back from the dead, and knew the fear that he faced. She had faced the fear of losing him entirely too often.

She leaned forward and kissed his forehead before speaking. "I know exactly how you feel. How many times have I had to fix you up? Trust me, I know. But this is a dangerous world we live in. I hate to say it, but what we are doing, going up against the Twilight cult, one or both of us… we might not make it. Even then, if we both make it through it, I will live much, much longer than you. But I can't focus on that, and neither should you. If you worry about losing me more than you enjoy being with me you will make both of us miserable. Don't go there. I've been there and really, it's not worth writing home about."

She could feel his pulse slowing down to a more acceptable rate. She leaned forward until their foreheads touched, the base of her horns just bumping his head. "All we can do is live the life we are given to the best of our abilities and enjoy the time we have together."

She could feel him slowly exhale before whispering, "Thank you." She felt his hands reach up to her face, holding it for a second before he brought her forward and their lips met. She felt a jolt pass through her as they kissed; it always had that effect on her. Now, worrying about her powers was the last thing on her mind.

Kalara was in the middle of a dream about baking a pie for Blackheart, of all things, when the sunlight hitting her eyelids drove her awake. She sleepily opened her eyes and tried to make sense of her surroundings. She was sitting up somewhat and very comfortable. There was also something heavy lying across her. When she looked down she saw two large arms wrapped around her, and then it came back to her. She must have fallen asleep while lying on Blackheart. When she looked up at him he was smiling at her. "Good morning beautiful. How do you feel?"

She turned her head to hide her blush. "I feel much better now."

Blackheart tightened his arms around her, giving her a hug. "I'm glad. You missed a most spectacular sunrise today."

"Well why didn't you wake me then?"

With a chuckle, he responded, "You needed sleep more than you need to see the sunrise. There will also be a sunrise tomorrow that will be just as amazing as this one. I believe Miakoda is about to wake up so we had best be on our way."

"Ok." She tried to stand up, but remained firmly rooted in place by the worgen's large arms. She looked down at them and then back to Blackheart, her eyebrow cocked in confusion. He smiled, and in response moved forward and kissed her. "One for the road." He said, winking at her.

They were packed and traveling down the road in only a few minutes. If his guess was right, they would arrive in Astranaar in a few hours. He didn't know what awaited him there, but he was determined to enjoy the time that he had to just walk through the forest with Kalara. The draenei and the tauren were deep in conversation about which herbs were best to season rabbit when Maestra's Post came into view.

Blackheart knew something was wrong the second he laid eyes on it. He had intended to go straight through Ashenvale until they got to Astranaar, but when a plume of smoke and the smell of death greeted him coming from the post, that was the furthest thing from his mind. Occasionally a great crash would sound, though what it was from Blackheart could not tell.

"Make sure you have your tabard on and it is clearly visible Miakoda. We don't want any glaives coming at us." The tauren nodded and donned the tabard she had received from Relarus, one that would make her affiliated with the Cenarion Circle and thus neutral. Blackheart hoped it would be enough for them to be recognized as friendly.

They picked up their pace once Miakoda was appropriately garbed, reaching the outpost at almost a full run. There were only a few buildings at the post, but most of them were on fire. Night elves seemed to be running around all over the place; some were volleying arrows towards what looked to be a horde encampment, thought it seemed entirely too far for them to hit, some manned the night elves colossal glaive throwers, while others rushed around trying to help the injured or put out fires.

As they approached the town, they were quickly spotted and hailed, stopping as three night elves approached them. Two of them had their bows notched, drawn, and trained on their group. "Who are you and what is it that you want?" The night elf in the middle asked. Blackheart looked at Kalara then back to the night elf. Her voice was definitely not one of authority, but she apparently the leader by the way the others flanked her.

Blackheart wasted no time in explaining their names and that they were traveling to Ashenvale to both pass through it and to find out some news of the patrols sent by the guard captain at Lor'danel. After a moment's consideration, the night elf in charge made a motion and the two guards next to her lowered their bows. "I am Synthiana… I suppose you could say that I'm in charge. Everyone above me is either dead or incapacitated in some way. Most of the sentinels that you speak of are here, fighting for us now. We could certainly use more help. Please follow me."

Without a backwards glance, Synthiana turned and walked quickly back to the post. When they arrived, Blackheart could smell the familiar scents of battle permeating the air, those of death, sadness, and despair but also those of courage and victory.

Striding close to Blackheart, Miakoda whispered, "She doesn't sound much like a commander to me."

He nodded. "I don't think she has very much experience. They may be pretty bad off if all of their experienced leaders are down."

Just as they got to the middle of the camp, Blackheart picked up on a faint sound at the same time as his sixth danger sense kicked into overtime. He heard a whistling coming from somewhere and when he looked up, he understood the danger; a volley of massive ballista bolts were about to rain down on them. They seemed to be almost materializing out of thin air. "Take cover!" he yelled as he quickly changed into a worgen, taking Kalara with him, and sprinted for the nearest shelter. Some of the night elves looked around in confusion; those didn't make it. Most of them, however, looked up and saw the danger and scrambled for cover immediately.

Within seconds the first ballista bolt slammed down. Blackheart had never seen such a missile. It had a broad, four pointed iron head that was bigger from point to point than Miakoda. The shaft looked as though it was simply a tree with the branches cut off of it. The impact of it when it hit the ground rattled his teeth and sprayed him with dirt, rocks, and the gore of the unfortunate night elf it had crushed. More followed as they ran towards the main, fortified building. They could all hear the short screams of the dying as a few of the bolts claimed their victims.

When what remained of the night elves had made it into the post, they looked up towards the ceiling as the building violently shook from the impacts of the massive bolts. When they looked outside they could see over forty bolts lodged in the ground, some splattered with the gore of the night elves they had killed. A quick headcount revealed just over a hundred elves left who were standing; there were many more lying wounded in the back of the building. Synthiana was trying to figure out what to do, and as she started to command the remaining company, her voice was drowned out by a roar. As one, they all looked out to see a mass of orcs charging across the field. It looked like they were outnumbered four to one, and they would be upon them in a very short amount of time.

Synthiana was stuck at a loss for words. The three commanders that had been above her had all died or were grievously wounded, and now she was left to decide what to do when facing a host of ocrs charging wildly at them. She had never commanded until now, had never had any desire to lead anyone, and now it seemed that all was lost and it wouldn't matter. She looked at the night elves surrounding her, all looking to her for some kind of guidance, all awaiting orders. She started to panic… she couldn't seem to say anything. She noticed that the elves had changed from looking at her to something beside her when she felt a clawed, furry hand on her shoulder.

Blackheart knew something had to be done, or they were all doomed. He had surveyed the orcs charging for a few seconds before going up to Synthiana. The ones at the front lines, though hard to see, showed more green than anything else meaning they were little armor… they seemed to be just grunts. The night elves surrounding him though, they should be much better trained in combat. That should take care of the numbers advantage. Before he had moved towards Synthiana he had noticed twelve loaded glaive throwers and that gave him an idea.

In a loud voice, imitating his human commanders from his time in the army, he issued his commands. "Listen up! I am Blackheart, and until such time as someone that has a better ability to lead you lot steps forth I'm taking command." He could see the faces of the night elves arrayed before him and he could smell the apprehension coming off them. He would have to make his simple plan understood quickly, or he might just be cut down where he stood. He quickly outlined what he was thinking. It was a simple plan and only took a few seconds… but it seemed to have the desired effect. Apprehension turned into determination. In a few seconds, the night elves were running to do as he commanded.

As he was preparing to leave the building and join them, Miakoda approached him. "I cannot join this fight. I know that we are friends… but I cannot kill other horde members for you."

Blackheart looked her in the eye for a moment before nodding. "I do not expect you to kill your kin. Do as you must," he said as he gripped her forearm. The tauren nodded before retreating back into the fortified building.

"What of me?" Kalara asked as she walked up. "Am I to be useless and in the way?" He could smell some of the self doubt returning to her.

"You are going to do whatever you can to help out. If you can attack with your magic, you will attack. If you can't but you can heal, then you will heal as best as you can. If you can't do that, then you can drag the wounded back inside the building." He bent forward and pressed his wet nose to her cheek before giving it a quick, affectionate lick. "Be careful."

She nodded and watched as he went towards where part of the group of night elves were lining up. The area where they would meet the charging orc host was a fairly narrow one, which was good; they needed the bottle neck. Blackheart lined up in the middle at the front of the fifty sentinels and warriors suited for melee combat. At his nod, they laid their shields and weapons on the ground in front of them; he drew his oversized claymore and put it down a bit to the right on the ground. He could hear the grunts of the glaive operators as they wheeled the war machines up behind them.

He could see the orcs coming now, they were almost within range. He held his right arm up. "Archers!" he bellowed, "Fire!"

A volley arrows from the thirty archers behind him arced over his head and struck the first ranks of the orcs. Many stumbled and fell; the first wave was mere fodder and not well armored. The second ranks though, these were true orc warriors and all were wearing armor. The second time he called for a volley, it was less effective, many of the arrows being caught on a shield or in some chainmail. The orcs were closing in on them, he could see them fifty paces away now; he could almost smell the bloodlust. The orcs gave no thought as to why their enemies' weapons were laying on the ground in front of them or why they hadn't moved, or what they might possibly do to stem the rush of the horde.

When they had started the charge they were almost one hundred wide, barreling across the field. But now they had been bottlenecked down to half that. It would be nearly one to one when they reached the night elves, albeit the night elves had one rank to the orcs' four.

Blackheart called his fourth volley, his right arm slashing down followed by a wave of arrows. The orcs were used to this now and had started using their shields to block them. The fifth wave of arrows didn't injure a single orc. At twenty paces, Blackheart raised his left arm in the air and the orcs lifted their shields in response, effectively blocking any threat of arrows… but also blocking their view. "Ready!" he yelled. At fifteen paces, he yelled "Dive!" and the entire front line dove to the ground, putting a hand on their weapons and shields. A half second after Blackheart hit the ground he heard a series of mechanical groans and felt the rush of air as twelve glaive launchers fired simultaneously over their heads.

Giving a feral grin of grim satisfaction, he watched as the massive, three bladed glaives slammed into the advancing orc line. The force of being at close range, the spinning action of the glaives, as well as the fact that they were as wide as three orcs, caused absolute carnage. He watched as it literally cut the first couple of ranks of orcs in two. All twelve glaives cut a swath of destruction completely through the line of horde, killing every member in their path and passing many paces behind them. Nearly half of the orcs had been killed by the glaives, effectively stopping their charge… and making it a two on one fight... much better odds "Charge!" Blackheart yelled as he and the night elves got to their feet and capitalized on the momentary confusion.

The line of night elves, Blackheart among them, slammed into the orcs and cut them down mercilessly. Blackheart claimed five of the orcs, easily outmatching them in terms of skill. It was over in under a minute. They had taken on the orcs, outnumbered four to one, and the worst injuries suffered were a few cuts and bruises, nothing that couldn't be fixed by stitches.

A great cheer went up from the night elves then, one that was heard all the way back at the horde encampment. Blackheart was about to join in, but something started nagging at him. The orcs did tend to have an above average amount of bloodlust… but those that made it to a commanding position generally didn't do so through sheer force. There were intelligent orcs… Thrall for example. He had seen no commanding orcs here that they had killed which meant… there were more out there.

He had to shout to be heard above the cheering. "Let's get this lot cleaned up! I want to use the bodies of these things to make a better chokepoint. More will come." The cheering had died down and the elves looked at him for a few seconds. "Well? Come on let's get a move on!" he yelled, hoisting one of the dead orcs that lay at his feet and hauling it over to make a wall of flesh. It wasn't a pretty thing to do, but it would work. The other elves quickly joined him. They had just finished making the bottleneck ten people wide when Kalara joined him. He could smell the healing magic she had used. "You are recovered then?"

She gave him a funny look for a second before asking, "How…. How did you know?"

He smiled at her, repeating a gesture that he had months ago touching his, "Because this," and then touching her nose, "is better than this."

Kalara just sighed. "I'm not all the way back up, but I'm getting there. The more that I use it the better I get. I just finished up healing most of the injuries from this fight, as well as the many of those injured earlier. We have quite a few more night elves up and about." She raised her hands up and he could sense the magic coalescing in her hands as she healed the minor scrape he had received from one of the orcs.

"It's good that we have more up and about. We're going to need them."

She looked up at him, confused. "What do you mean?"

As if in answer, another warcry split the air. He and those around him turned to see a sight that drained the color from Kalara's face. Orcs were coming. Many, many more orcs than they had fought earlier were coming to face them. "That is what I mean."