Voodoo Child
Chapter 8 – The Guns of Northwatch, part 2
By Genoscythe
AN: The troll porn's actually an inside joke. One of my friends has a troll priest, and we've decided that Fear is really just troll porn (that's why it works so well).
PS: I lied about Zuridan. He'll come along later (I decided it's too soon to be adding more new characters).
The next day, Xan'Jin and Argam set out early, as they were hoping to get to Northwatch Hold before the pirates woke up. As it turned out, the Southsea Freebooters had spent the entire night emptying their alcohol stockpiles, and the half that weren't dead from alcohol poisoning wouldn't be waking up any time soon.
For the first stretch of coastline, they stepped cautiously over the pirates. However, after witnessing some kind of swimming lizard reach out and drag a sleeping pirate into the water without him waking up, they were fairly confident that they would get through unnoticed. Xan was even bold enough to pickpocket a few of them, one being a gaudily-dressed man with a black beard and a sleeping parrot next to him.
Northwatch Hold loomed before them, and they both stopped in awe and fear. However, Xan was distracted by the sight of a ship sailing along the coast to their left. The flag dangling atop the mast displayed the same symbol as Captain Brightsun's tabard. That could only mean one thing...
More porn! Xan realized happily. Now he was determined to take down these humans. If not for himself, then for all the trolls of the Horde.
Captain Fairmount chuckled as another helpless ship came into view. She leaned over Cannoneer Smythe's shoulder to get a better look at the boat. Definitely Horde sympathizers.
"Orders, miss?" Smythe asked, nearly drooling.
"Same orders as always," Fairmount said with a grin. "Blow the ever-loving crap out of it."
"Hey, Vanessa..." That annoying paladin spoke up, poking her in the shoulder. "That doesn't look like any Horde ship I've ever seen."
She rounded on him. "Try living on the coast of Kalimdor for two years, then tell me what is and what isn't a Horde ship!" The paladin gave her a mock-hurt expression.
"Calm down, babe. Maybe you need to see my 'hammer of justice' again?" He said, his overly-silky voice like a cheese grater on her soul.
Captain Fairmount blushed. "If you don't shut up, I'll show you what you can do with your 'hammer of justice'!"
The paladin blinked in confusion. "Was that a threat, or a turn-on?" Fairmount slapped him, and was about to do worse when Smythe interrupted them.
"Miss? Should I fire, or not?"
"Don't listen to this idiot! Order stands!"
"You know...I think I've seen that flag before. Pretty sure that's one of Thalo'thas Brightsun's ships."
"Fire! As long as it's going to Ratchet, it's bad!" Smythe lined up the ship in his cannon's sights, and fired. A cannonball rocketed out of the gun, seemed to hover in the air as if deciding where to fall, then plummeted straight into the cargo ship's gunpowder stockpiles. Smythe grinned hungrily as the ship went up in flames, scattering wood bits and cargo into the air. The paladin was already dragging Fairmount away.
When they were outside the tower, Fairmount wrenched her arm free from the paladin. "What is it, Marek? What'd I do now?"
"Baby, I got kicked out of the Silver Hand, and even I think that was stupid! You just shot down a freelance cargo ship. Brightsun's freelance cargo ship. I know this guy, and he doesn't take stuff like that lying down."
Fairmount laughed. "Come on, Marek. What's he gonna do?"
Right on cue, a distant explosion filled the air. It definitely wasn't coming from the cannoneers.
Xan stood in shock as shredded bits of troll pornography flitted through the air, blown from the burning ship by ocean winds. Not again! Dis means war!
Deciding to test out a trick he had picked up at the Crossroads, Xan pulled out a stick of dynamite. He hurled it at the bulky wooden gate, and it smacked dully against the surface. It dropped to the ground with an unimpressive thud.
"Aren't you supposed to, uh..." Argam began, struggling with his words again. He muttered incoherently for a moment, stomped in a circle, even pulled out a tuft of hair before he realized what he was trying to say. "...light it?"
Xan blinked, thinking back to the instructions the trainer had told him. He had mentioned something about wicks, but at the time Xan thought he had said something dirty.
"I tink you be right, mon. Gimme some rope." Argam looked about, as if expecting rope to be lying magically at their feet. He was disappointed. As a substitute, he handed Xan the ball of hair he had torn out. Cringing, the troll scooped up the dynamite and shoved the hairs into one end, molding the wood pulp so the hairs were inside it.
After an amusing fiasco with matches, the dynamite was thrown. This time, it exploded in mid-air, blasting the gate loose from its hinges and causing it to crash forward. The two guards were so surprised at the failure of their bulletproof security system that they barely noticed the two Horde soldiers standing on their doorstep. Xan ran forward, but suddenly thought better of it as he noticed Argam next to him. The tauren 'shaman' was tearing up the ground, swinging his axe at invisible enemies and almost taking off one of Xan's tusks. The rogue wisely hung back as Argam smashed into the two marines. He swung blindly at one, and only his heavy armor prevented him from being completely cleaved in half. The other stabbed with his suddenly tiny-looking sword, which caught in Argam's mail armor and refused to either hurt the tauren or return to its master.
Argam brought the butt of his axe down on the human's head, denting in the man's helmet and most likely his brain as well. Another marine was charging from the courtyard, but he was knocked aside when Argam kicked one of the dead humans at him.
Xan grabbed at a floating page of burnt pornography as humans were flung left and right. After several failed attempts, he caught the edge and watched in horror as the piece of parchment disintegrated into ash. He looked around for more debris, but nothing except a few embers dotted the sky.
Xan heard the battle dying down, and he started forward. However, he stopped himself. Argam was still dangerous. He waited a few seconds, and a roar resounded from the courtyard to his right. Argam's axe flew across the entrance, disappearing behind the left wall. He heard a horse whinny in pain, and drop to the ground. Tentatively, Xan crept forward and looked through the entrance.
The courtyard was scattered with torn human bodies, and to the left Xan saw a stable with a very bloody axe and a very decapitated horse lying inside. Argam sat in the middle of the courtyard, recovering from the adrenaline rush.
"Where's my axe?" Argam asked, looking around as if seeing the courtyard for the first time. Xan pointed to the stable and the two halves of the horse. Argam looked stricken.
"Relax, mon. Jus' a human's horse," Xan reasoned, retrieving the axe for him. Argam took it in trembling hands. When he tried to stand, he wobbled uncertainly and fell back onto his tail.
"I'm...tired..." the tauren muttered, blinking as if to will his body to stay awake.
"You should be, mon." Xan whistled at Argam's handiwork. "Res' up. When you can, take out dem cannoneers."
"What about you? You're not trying to be the hero, are you?" Argam asked, sensing what Xan was up to.
The troll gave a bitter laugh. "Tried dat, mon. 'Hero' jus' don' work for me." Waiting a moment for dramatic effect, Xan vanished into thin air.
"I told you, let the marines handle it," Marek Belheim crooned, dragging Vanessa Fairmount back into the darkness of the tool shed. She shook him off while fumbling for the latch on her breastplate.
"Stupid, stupid..." She muttered, running for the tower. Down the hill, Marek could hear the sounds of a raging battle. With Marek's vast intellectual powers, he concluded that there must be at least twenty powerful Horde soldiers in the courtyard. Why else would there be so many human screams of agony?
Silently cursing that he wouldn't have any more time with Captain Fairmount, Marek began his daring escape. He was halfway to the wall when he realized that he left his warhammer behind. Running back, he noticed that the sounds of battle had ceased. That hardly mattered, as Marek always had his hearthstone tucked safely in his pocket. Of course, he didn't know how the Silver Hand would react if he suddenly appeared at their doorstep, but it had to be better than facing down twenty deadly Horde warriors.
Grabbing his hammer, he spun around just as the feeling hit him. The same, indescribable feeling of being watched that had hit him at Tiragarde Keep. Just before...
"It's you!" He cried, spying a surprised-looking troll standing by the tower doorway. The troll, finding his cover blown, lost his camouflage and drew his dagger. A bead of sweat ran down his sharp features as he eyed the towering paladin. He yelled something in orcish, his voice wavering. A grin spread across Marek's face; this one was a runt.
He charged forward, swinging his warhammer and catching the rogue in the side. The white-haired troll was flung into the wall, bouncing off and rolling along the ground. Marek readied his hammer again, but a bellowing cry stalled his efforts.
"Xan!" A deep voice roared from behind. Marek frowned and craned his head back, eyes widening as a two-handed axe plunged into his side. He could feel the cold, sharp steel of the blade on his shirt, but his plate armor had effectively stopped it from chopping his beautiful body in half.
The new attacker wrenched his axe free, and swung it again. This time, Marek brought up his hammer and parried the blow easily. However, out of the corner of his eye he spotted the troll getting to his feet. Thinking only of his visage and what would happen if he were accidentally cut, he cast a Divine Shield over his heavily armored body and pulled out his hearthstone.
Calling on its power, he laughed as the Horde soldiers vainly tried to attack him. From the looks of things, he could probably kill them both in two more strokes. However, the risks for his beauty were just too great. He would have to fulfill his promise to the rogue later.
Xan swore as the paladin melted into an unhealthy-looking green light.
"He had us...Why'd he run?" He asked, bewildered.
"Who knows what the pinkskins are thinking?" Argam said, still breathing heavily.
"I seen dat guy before..." Xan muttered, looking about. The castle almost seemed deserted. "Alright. Better get to work, mon." With that, they parted ways. Xan moved toward the large tower to their left, and Argam pretended to move for the two gun turrets on the east and west sides of the Hold. However, when Xan was out of sight, he ducked behind a wagon and instantly fell asleep.
Vanessa Fairmount leaned against the wall of her tower, twirling her hammer around by the ring on its pommel. It was bad enough accepting help from an old flame, but when that old flame happens to be Marek Belheim, well...she couldn't have gotten much worse. However, he had several traits going for him.
First off, he was ridiculously strong, putting any one of her soldiers (herself included) to shame. Second, he was a bit cheaper than the average mercenary as long as his employer was a woman. Third, there was little chance of him ripping her off, because if he ever decided to skip out on her, he was too stupid to remember to take the money with him.
Fairmount sighed, realizing that he had probably already run away. However, she had his pay tucked safely in her pocket. She slipped a hand into her pants just to be sure. A moment later, her eyes nearly exploded out of their sockets. "He couldn't have..." She felt again, just to be sure. Nothing except amassive lint ball and a sentient piece of taffy named Alphonse.
"That bastard..." She muttered, temporarily forgetting the rogue sneaking up the stairway. He was trying hard to conceal himself with a stealth spell, but Vanessa's trained eyes saw straight through it. Her only concern was how long he would take before she could beat the life out of him. But now, she had forgotten about him completely. Her only thoughts were centered on the loss of her purse.
No wonder Marek dragged me into the tool shed after that explosion. Here I thought he was after something else in my pants... It was completely unlike him. Marek was an inept fool, a man whom the citizens of Stormwind once marked as mentally retarded. Vanessa knew he wasn't retarded, but that he was just too narcissistic to bother with the rest of the world.
Her thoughts snapped back to the present when she saw one of her soldiers go down with a bloody thump. In the time she had forgotten about the rogue, he had made his way to the top floor. Now, he eyed her hungrily, and she tried to look like she hadn't noticed him. He crept forward, gripping his dagger so tightly that the bones on his knuckles stuck out. She waited patiently, trying not to look in his direction for fear of laughing.
Finally, he was within her range. Still pretending not to notice him, she swung her hammer and cracked it against his skull. His illusion scattered and he was sent sprawling to the floor, both dazed and confused. Vanessa Fairmount grinned wickedly, pulling out a pair of handcuffs she kept on her belt for special occasions and slapping them on the groaning troll's wrists.
She waited for him to reopen his eyes, at which point she slammed him against the wall. "Who sent you?" She barked, caring more about the thrill of interrogation rather than getting any real answers.
The troll muttered something in orcish, his eyes wide and terrified. Vanessa cursed, realizing she should have thought about the language barrier beforehand. Now, she had a helpless prisoner and nothing to do with him. Looks like it's time to get creative...
Argam awoke with the sun low on the horizon. He began a monstrous yawn, but covered his mouth when he remembered where he was. With this realization came the question of how long he had fallen asleep, and why Xan hadn't come back for him yet. Sitting back, he shook his head. Sometimes that helped him clear his thoughts.
The question now was where to find Xan. It was mid-afternoon when they had first broken into the castle, and now it was twilight. By now, either Xan had killed all the humans or all the humans had killed Xan. This train of thought didn't bring Argam any closer to an idea, so he decided to relax and wait for fate to drop him a hint.
In the midst of a world-shattering philosophical debate between the tauren and a rotten piece of cheese on the ground, Argam got his hint. He had been reeling from the cheese's latest rebuttal, looking about for a comeback, when he noticed the barrels inside the nearby wagon. They were a pretty red color with white letters painted sloppily on the side. Argam bet the cheese that he could have painted those letters better, and the cheese accepted.
However, it was the letters themselves that had caught his eye. TNT. Argam could swear that he had seen that word before, but the meaning escaped him. Then, the cheese reminded him that TNT stood for trinitrotoluene, and that it was a crystalline, highly explosive compound used mainly to blow things to pieces.
"Now think, young Stonehoof. Is there anything here you would like to blow to pieces?" The cheese asked sagely. Argam scratched his shaggy head.
"I dunno...maybe a few things."
"Well, I suggest you start by destroying this entire castle. Xan'Jin has quite obviously failed, and it is your duty as the survivor to carry out the whims of the deceased. Now, listen as I tell you what to do with the trinitrotoluene."
Xan was fading in and out of consciousness, but he tried to keep himself out. Whenever he faded in things only got painful. However, there was a point at which he could no longer keep himself unconscious, so he groaned and shoved his eyes open. What he saw astonished him. He was in a dungeon, bare except for the stairs on the far wall and an elf chained to the ground on his right. The human, Captain Fairmount, was sitting before him, dressed in a disturbing spiked leather outfit and sharpening what appeared to be hedge clippers. When she saw that he was awake, she got to her feet and whipped out the clippers.
She said something in Common, and Xan wondered why she bothered trying to communicate with him. With a mad glint in her eyes, she took a step forward and raised the clippers toward his lengthy tusks. He moaned in protest, shaking his head violently. He hoped she could at least understand that.
Captain Fairmount merely laughed a deranged laugh and slammed the hedge clippers down on Xan's right tusk. He ground his teeth together as the steel bit into the bone, but the pressure abruptly ceased as a loud bang echoed through the dungeon. Both Xan and Fairmount turned to the source of the ruckus, and found a barrel of TNT lying at the bottom of the stairwell.
"Simpleton!" Argam yelled, his voice deeper and more commanding than usual. "You could have set off the Trinitrotoluene!"
"I'm sorry!" Argam's voice had changed, and it was now the soft, submissive tone he normally carried. "I'll be careful with the next one, cheese-man."
"Damn right you will," the gruff voice scolded. Xan squeezed his eyes shut. I be surrounded by freakin' lunatics. Captain Fairmount screamed Common at the stairwell, and a sudden clatter of hooves followed it. The female took off, grabbing a whip from her belt as she did so. Xan was now alone with the seemingly dead elf, and he swung dejectedly on his chains.
"Always look on the bright side of life," the elf murmured as if singing a song, and Xan turned a skeptical eye on him.
"There ain' no bright side, mon. Jus' look at'cha self."
"I try not to..." The elf groaned, lifting his head and looking Xan in the eyes. Typical elf pretty-boy. "Not anymore, anyway. I used to be a sailor for Thalo'thas Brightsun, but that crazy bitch Fairmount blew my ship out of the water. I was unlucky enough to survive, and it was either get caught by them or the Freebooters. Wish I had gone for the Freebooters. Then I could at least be around other seamen."
Xan coughed once to clear the uncomfortable silence that followed, but it didn't do much good. Now seriously questioning the elf's sexuality, Xan tried to swing himself farther away from him. It did nothing but cause him to dangle for a bit.
After an eternity of waiting in agony, there was a thump and Captain Fairmount's head rested at the foot of the stairs, leaning against the barrel of TNT. Moments later, Argam appeared as well, carrying two crimson barrels and a massive grin on his face. After setting the barrels at key structural points that Xan could only guess how Argam knew about, the tauren swung his axe through the troll's chains and dropped him to the floor.
"Where da hell you been, mon?" Xan asked, rubbing his sore shoulders and checking for his weapons. Somehow, the crazy woman had missed his dagger and equipment.
"I've been trying to blow this place up," Argam said, still grinning. "All the other towers are set to go, and now we're done with this one."
Xan blinked, amazed that Argam could formulate such a mildly intelligent plan. They began walking up the spiral stairs, leaving a cold and lonely elf sailor chained to the floor.
"So...how we doin' dis?" They were now outside the tower, standing in the cold night.
"Well, we light the TNT, and then we run for it."
"...how we be lightin' it? I don' see a fuse."
Argam's grin shattered. "Ah...huh. Well...The cheese and I didn't get that far yet."
Xan opened his mouth to ask why his partner kept talking about cheese, but he decided there were more pressing matters at hand. "Any more brigh' ideas, mon?"
Argam shrugged. "That's usually your department."
Xan looked up and down the hill. "I still can' believe no reinforcements showed up."
Argam shrugged again. "They're scared?"
Xan allowed himself a quick laugh before re-composing himself. "Doubt it, mon. We betta blow dis place, jus' in case we missed anyone." He suddenly had a brainstorm. "Gimme a torch." Argam pulled a stick wrapped in oiled cloth out of his backpack, and after another amusing fiasco with matches, it was lit. Looking down the stairs and judging his aim, Xan tossed it back into the tower and ran, yelling for Argam to do likewise.
The tauren held his breath, the troll bolted down the hill, and the elf in the dungeon sighed as the torch arced toward the first barrel of TNT. It clattered to a halt right beside the elf, missing the barrel entirely. With a groan, the elf picked up the torch. "I don't have anything better to do today..." With that, he tossed the torch at the TNT, and the crimson barrel exploded immediately.
For one awe-inspiring moment, the entire tower seemed to be airborne. Then, the split-second image passed and the stone building crashed to the earth, splitting at the seams and sending chunks of rock falling down the hill. A TNT barrel just outside the tower lit up as well, igniting another barrel in a domino effect until the second and third tower were blown into dust. Argam and Xan stood at the gates, watching the spectacle in awe.
"Xan?" Argam spoke tenderly.
"Yes, mon?" Xan responded, equally humbled.
"I like fire."
End of chapter 8
AN: YES, that's actually what TNT stands for! Too bad I had to look it up to find out...