I own nothing. But I wish everyone a merry Christmas.

Chasing Through Hell

Repercussions and Reassignment

Maurus walked out of the command tent with as much confidence as he could, which wasn't much. The air had been warm and cloying, the intense gaze of Tor'Chunk Twoclaws, Croaker and the rest of the commanders had felt searing and the strangled feeling, the nauseating knots his stomach was in and the trembling in his fingers did not vanish as he came out into the cold. Recounting the capture and escape had brought up some of the fear again, and he couldn't drown it with anger like he could in battle. Worse, describing the events had put the entire ordeal into stark relief and reminded him that it was him who had been in command, his responsibility and that many had died under his command.

He made it to the mud just outside the command post before he slipped and fell to one knee, the motion making his stomach flip and heave. His throat hurt as he threw up the meager contents of his stomach and his face heated in embarrassment at how weak he felt and how weak he knew he looked.

Red-robed legs entered his vision and just as quickly vanished, quick steps squelching faintly in the mud. His stomach heaved a few more times, each time less violently than the one before it and then it calmed. With only a mild protest from his limbs, he pushed himself back up.

The guards around the command post hadn't moved and only one of them, a charcoal tauren in red grunt armor, was looking at him. Several of them were questioning some new arrivals, but the studied inattention of the rest of them was a courtesy he appreciated.

The people passing him on the road were less kind and he saw several mocking grins as he swept his gaze back and forth. He ignored them with a grimace and followed the spot of golden hair disappearing in the crowds, feeling guiltily grateful for the distraction. As he came nearer, he could see that Arianna was walking with long strides, her back rigidly straight and there was less flowing grace in her movements. That wasn't really remarkable in face of the exhaustion but what was unusual was the way she fiddled with the right side of her robes, discreetly scratching and rubbing at the fabric.

Arianna had been in the tent too, adding tidbits to Maurus' tale before contributing her own actions by the lake portal. She had won some of the elves' trust by virtue of her powers, a relation to prominent members of the Phoenix Guard and sheer enthusiasm, allowing her to confirm Maurus' fear that the Legion had intended sacrifice them all before she initiated the breakout. She had recounted it all dispassionately, but her hands had been slightly unsteady when she washed them as she spoke and there had been more pauses than usual.

Worry seeped into Maurus' insides, which still felt like they wanted to crawl out through his mouth. Arianna's distress wasn't just evident in her movements, but also in the way she just let the people on the road bump into her and Maurus quickened his pace. He scattered a gaggle of goblins and pushed through a group of orcs, growling at them to move, before he reached out and closed his broad fingers around Arianna's thin shoulders. His fingers stopped trembling as he felt her warmth through the blood- and dirt-encrusted fabric but he could feel her shudder, small tremors that radiated from her chest and out through her arms. She seemed frail in his grip, a word he had never thought would apply to her and it cut into his chest to see it, enough to somewhat push away the near-panic he felt when he thought about his brief stint as commander. Gently, he pulled her against his side and continued through the crowd.

Arianna didn't look at him or speak. Her dimly glowing eyes were fixed on the lazy, small waves of the tiny lake that lay ahead and she resisted half-heartedly when he steered her along the road instead of letting her walk down to the shore.

A short, silent while later, he led her into a grouping of tents that stood out from the rest by virtue of their garish colors. Most of the tents were small and square and set up to be more roomy than the usual cramped tents most people used, but five of them looked more like ale tents, big, square and high enough that a tauren could stand comfortably upright inside. Soft music rose from the spot at the center of the tents, where two tauren, an elf and a handful of trolls and orcs sat playing their flutes, drums and a few stringed instruments, almost drowning out the breaths and whispers coming from the small tents.

Maurus led Arianna over to the troll who sat by the biggest tent, arms resting on a solid wooden chest. The troll raised an eyebrow as they approached and the right side of her mouth curled around her tusk. Maurus gave her a level look.

"Water. Washcloth. Privacy. And if we can borrow that or something like it for two days, I'm paying half-again," he said, gesturing at the troll's blue robes. At least he wasn't hurting for coin anymore, thanks to the reward he had gotten from Twoclaws and thankfully, the troll caught the hint, keeping her comments to herself as she led them into the tent. Inside, curtains divided it into ten smaller rooms and the troll directed them to one furnished with a few stools, a small, low table and a bedroll wide enough for one and a half tauren. The troll had barely left before an orc entered, carrying two buckets, a bar of soap, three washcloths and a bundle of cloth, which he left with hardly a word.

Maurus put all of it by the stool Arianna had plopped down on and dropped onto the bedroll behind her.

She ripped off her robes and tossed them away in a motion that had nothing of the sensuality he'd seen when she undressed for him. She was far cleaner than anyone else in the 27th, but that just meant that she displayed the dirt of their long march instead of the march and the imprisonment. She wet the washcloth and put it to her right side, where the skin was tinged slightly brown-red, and scrubbed vigorously.

He watched her for a short moment, pulling off his gloves, before he gently said: "Arianna."

He realized he didn't know how to continue and hesitated, before reaching a hand and repeating, almost apologetically: "Arianna."

As he touched her scarred back, her movements stopped and she turned her head to look at him. It was the same pose she had had, a lifetime ago in an oasis in the Barrens, as they spoke of scars, but everything else about her was different. She didn't show the slight embarrassment she had shown then or the irritable haughtiness she had covered it up with. Her face was open for him to read and her expression was miserable. The glow of her eyes was different, changed by the sheen of moisture in her eyes and there was tension beneath his fingers and in the line of her jaw.

"It's true," she said, voice brittle. "He abandoned us. Betrayed us."

A shudder went through her, something Maurus only noticed because he was touching her, and she swallowed, growing a little paler. "I killed kin. I have family in the Phoenix Guard. How could they-"

She trailed off. Maurus rubbed his thumb over her naked shoulder, his calloused skin gliding over old burn scars, and felt his emotions swirling in his belly. He wanted to kill every last traitorous elf for the pain they caused Arianna, but he let the anger recede again, leaving him with the ache he felt at her anguish.

"I don't know, Love" he said. He moved a little closer and said tentatively: "You saved all of us. And the news we bring are important for the Horde and your own people. You did well."

A muscle in her jaw clenched for a moment and then she swallowed before resuming her scrubbing and turning her head away. He could feel, more than hear, the faint shudder in her breaths and he didn't miss it when she raised her free hand to her eyes.

"I'm sorry," he said. It came out in a croak, because the heartache he felt for her bled together with the guilt he felt for the deaths he had been responsible for, making it hard to speak. With his free hand, he loosened the last clasps of his armor and withdrew his hand so he could pull his breastplate and chain over his head. He quickly returned his hand to Arianna, feeling her relax slightly as his palm settled on her back again.

"I can hardly blame you," Arianna said, with both irritation and sadness in her voice. Maurus was slightly relieved when she raised the wet cloth to her other arm, rather than to the spot where she had cleaned elven lifeblood from her side.

"He is the best of us and he brought the best when he followed Illidan," Arianna said after a little while of silence. "The strongest, the wisest. If he can fall- And what will we-"

There was a hollow, naked fear in her words and more uncertainty than Maurus had ever heard from her. Gently, he seized her around the waist and pulled her into his lap, folding his arms around her. Her body was fever-hot as usual, but that heat had long since become a comfort that easily offset the moisture from her right side seeping into his fur.

"You're strong and good," Maurus rumbled seriously, hugging her to his chest. That was something he at least could say with confidence, all his nightmares be damned. "You've fought the Legion for much longer than I, and with more risk to yourself. I've had you or the others to lean on the entire while."

He felt her draw a breath and added: "And you consider what lines there are to cross. You won't lose your way."

Her arms rose to curl around his hands, but she didn't speak. His thumbs brushed idly over her belly and his teeth clenched as he felt the long, thin scar Ven'Zarul had left up her front. He forced himself to relax and said, with forced brightness: "I can carve you some more purity tablets if you like."

Again, she didn't answer except for stroking the backs of his hands and leaning fully into the embrace. They sat for a while in the quiet, the only sounds being the dull din of the camp, the light music and the splashes from the other cabins. Maurus wished he could find more comforting words, but he had already said all he could think of and eventually, it was Arianna who spoke.

"You did well." It was quiet, but utterly sincere, and Maurus felt his chest quiver with a start of panic and a bit of relief. It was the third time he'd been told that since he was summoned by the commanders, but the first time it had been without a caveat. Both Croaker and Twoclaws had bluntly told him that keeping Ven'Zarul's bones had been a huge gamble. If Twoclaws' forces had, for whatever reason, failed to act on Croaker's ability to track both Ven'Zarul and his bones, Ven'Zarul could have tracked and wiped the 27th out. If the dreadlord had acted sooner, he might have wiped them out regardless of what Twoclaws had done. The same went for the druids' mission. One had been killed on the way and despite their success, their chances hadn't been good.

Maurus had known that and seen no other option, but Arianna's unconditional praise meant the world, because whenever he thought of his command, he just felt the weight of the responsibility and the dead.

"Glad you think so," he rumbled. "I figured you wouldn't like people seeing you like this."

She tossed her head back against his chest and there was a little of her mock-condescension in her voice when she said: "You lead us well, Cow. Though you are right."

Instead of answering, he laid his chin on her head and silence descended on them again. Arianna felt less fragile in his arms, her stiffness had faded and her breathing had become smoother, but he could still feel the distinct difference in her. Her grip on him was tight and it tightened more when his own exhaustion and jittery tension sent a shudder through him.

He took a breath and moved back a bit, keeping a firm hold on Arianna as he settled more comfortably on the bedroll and let the warmth in his arms ground him.

The following two weeks were hectic, but safer, now that they were with one of the main Horde forces. To Maurus', Arianna's and particularly Mathias' dismay, the pursuing Horde failed to catch Ven'Zarul, but it was hugely gratifying when they heard that two fresh regiments had hit the portal mound and that a contingent of Mag'har, led by Hellscream's son, had come from the south and destroyed those that had fled the regiments.

The news of the portal had changed things though. The Alliance and the Horde both knew with certainty that there were more portals, but they had assumed they were broken and unusable. The threat of them being opened and bringing the Legion reinforcements had both Horde and Alliance scrambling to find and capture the portals, scouring the mostly secure Nagrand and Terrokar for any sign while heightening their efforts in the rest of Outland. The uncertain reports of massive construction projects in the Netherstorm, in the shadow of the stolen Tempest Keep, as well as the massive activity in Shadowmoon Valley, further called for haste.

Most of the Alliance were moving on Shadowmoon, capturing the passes in the obsidian mountains one by one, while a smaller part of their collective forces stayed in Zangarmarsh. They were supposed to support the Cenarion Circle and help the Horde oust the Naga from Coilfang Reservoir, their last real stronghold, before following the Horde into the Blade's Edge Mountains.

The memory of the climb into Zangarmarsh and the knowledge that there were several demonic forge camps guarding the paths into the mountains had Maurus quietly terrified of the climb. It was even worse than before, because he had found himself appointed the first sergeant of the 27th, by almost unanimous approval from both the commanders and the soldiers of the 27th, putting far more lives on his shoulders than on the Peninsula. It weighed on him constantly, making his days feel arduous and his dreams troubled.

He was exhausted and he walked through the swamp in a daze. His limbs felt numb and heavy and his eyes wouldn't seem to open properly, making the foggy surroundings even more indistinct. There was no noise in his ears except for the quiet slosh of water against stone and the squelch of hooves pulling free of the mud.

Arianna walked beside him in silence. The faint green glow from her staff illuminated the path ahead of him, revealing the saw- and axe-marked tree stumps before he could trip over them and bash his head on the cracked slabs of stone that here and there broke up the muddy ground.

He called a halt by small, circular lake and knelt by the shore, his knee resting on an old piece of carved stone. Beside him, the 27th lined up and in good order stepped forward to get water from him. He had to reach deep to fill his bucket, the water dark and distant under him, but slowly, he served goblin, troll, orc, elf, tauren and undead.

With the well dry, they marched down into warm, oppressive darkness, flickering with green ghostlights and weighing heavily on his shoulders. The entrance faded behind them, leaving them in just the green half-light and every face around him turned sickly and starkly pale. The tunnel itself was almost lost in the darkness, but their steps were steady and their path sure, even as their numbers dwindled and soon, he found himself stepping into a high-vaulted room.

He looked up and up and up at the lopsided, one-horned beast that filled the room. It stood hunched over, constricted by the ceiling, its arms and hooved legs bound with heavy chains and sigils were carved into its flesh. Green fire burned in its crazed eyes and in the blood that dripped from the sigils, turning white fur a sickly, rotten shade.

It roared, a bestial, deep bellow that contained nothing but unthinking, boiling rage and strained against the bonds. The teeth in its muzzle were all fangs, misshapen things meant for tearing flesh and a bloody froth, like that of a rabid wolf, coated them.

It strained against its bonds and roared again and he was forced to take a step back from the force of it. For a moment, the roar faded and the sound of chains breaking was deafening in the silence.

He looked down at the room as his arm swung the chain round, sweeping the room and tearing through the Horde soldiers standing around him and then, he was small again, looking up at his monstrous reflection as it roared like thunder.

The chain cut through Calen, Mathias, Arianna and, covered in blood, it crashed into his face.

He woke with a start, his eyes snapping open and his body curling together instinctively. The echoes of the roar still rattled around his skull as he tried to orient himself and steady his racing heart and rapid breathing. The soft warmth draped over one arm was immediately calming, though Arianna's open, green eyes made him inhale sharply.

He was far more concerned with how wide her eyes were though and a moment later, he realized why. A roar rolled through the air and he realized that a previous roar had crept into his dream. The sound was like thunder and cracking stone, deep and guttural and furious and so huge, even weakened by distance. The roar was how he would have imagined Nath, the ogre war god, to sound and whatever was making that sound must be enormous, bigger than any creature he had ever seen.

He grabbed his mace and crawled after Arianna, dragging his shield with him and came out into the pale, blue-grey morning light. Around him, his comrades were rolling out of their tents and the rest of the 27th were scrambling out as well, half-dressed and as irritable as the soldiers of the other regiments further out. An anxious buzz was growing throughout the camp as more and more people woke and turned their heads to the north, where the ominous roars were coming from.

They couldn't see even a hint of the source of the noise. The fog and the thickening mushroom stalks ensured that they could only see a short distance past the edge of the camp and only the uneven incline and the echoing of the roars revealed that there were mountains ahead.

He turned to Arianna and was somewhat surprised when she slowly shook her head, clearly as stumped as him. She had known something about most of the big threats in Outland, mainly because they often had something to do with the demonic, the Second War or Illidan's conquest, but on this she was as ignorant as he was.

Mathias sidled up to them but before he could speak, horns sounded from the center of the camp and quickly, the signal spread and Maurus felt as confused as ever. That was the all clear-signal. The monstrous roars were distant, but he still couldn't believe that they weren't something to concern himself with.

"I wonder what the hell that is," Mathias said blithely. He gave Maurus a sideways glance and added: "It has you well and truly beat."

Maurus snorted. "Only thing I've ever heard that came close to that was Magtheridon."

Mathias frowned at the mention of the pit lord they'd met under Hellfire Citadel and his gaze moved to Arianna, a familiar light coming into his eyes. "Think Ven'Zarul-"

"No," Maurus interrupted him and paused as another roar made it hard to hear anything. "That thing is enraged, not pained. Besides-"

He glanced at Arianna, who nodded. "The terrain isn't suited for summoning," she said. She pushed the tip of her boot into the mud and added: "I don't see any sigils. Do you?"

Mathias acknowledged the point with by tilting his head. He kept his head at an angle as something seemed to occur to him and drew his knife, handing it, bone-hilt first, to Arianna.

"Wasn't he in that direction?" He asked.

Arianna gave a small nod as she accepted the weapon and while she murmured the tracking spell, Maurus said: "Would be unsatisfying if that thing squashed him."

"Zarul is in that direction," Arianna confirmed. "I doubt he's dead."

Mathias growled. "Good. I want my sword in his gut or his head on a spike. Real certainty."

Maurus nodded, feeling a phantom twinge in the side of his head. He definitely shared the sentiment.

"As long as you leave enough for Ash," Arianna said lightly, bending down to scratch the felhound on its skull. He made a sound halfway between a rabid growl and a sick cheetah's purr as his maw dropped open.

They stood for a little while, staring uselessly and though the roars continued being frightening, the worst fear dulled pretty quickly. Maurus finally turned away, considered and sighed as he decided that he might as well start the day.

As he turned, he saw Arianna kneel down by Wiven, who, as one of the only ones, hadn't been paying the roaring any attention. He was instead sitting right by his tent, with a small, half-open pouch in his hands and his pallid face was dimly lit by the blue glow of the powder within. Unlike the rest of the 27th, he hadn't improved much since they returned to the Horde and his pallor and stark appearance was beginning to make him look more like Mathias than his brethren.

A muscle in Maurus' jaw clenched and something rolled in his stomach. Arianna's expression twisted momentarily before she schooled her features and knelt by Wiven.

"Wiven," she said, a slow admonishment in her tone. He looked at her, only then seeming to notice her and his expression became shameful. "Perfect, this is just what I needed," she added, lifting the pouch from his hands with far more gentleness than her tone showed. Wiven's lips parted and he inhaled, one hand curling into a claw, but then he just slumped, letting his breath escape in a sigh.

Maurus pushed away a feeling of disgust and helplessness and focused on his worry. He clapped a hand onto Wiven's shoulder, whose head jerked up to look at him. "Food, elf," he said, his tone brooking no argument. "I'm not carrying you if you collapse on the march."

He almost hauled Wiven for a proper meal and after the drills of the day, he dragged him and Mathias through the elven enclave to the goblins. That hour and a half wasn't much fun, but it was somewhat productive. Wiven's shame in the face of his kin seemed to steel him a little and Widget didn't quite scream during her session with Wiven and his flames. By the time they left, Wiven seemed a little more focused and Widget seemed keen on continuing her work on her gun.

When they returned to camp, Maurus was surprised to see Arianna and Croaker by the muddy road that encircled the 27th's tents. At first glance, they looked like they had just stopped for a chat by the road, but Maurus got the impression that they were waiting for something, a notion that was confirmed when Arianna briefly caught his gaze and tilted her head at Croaker.

He let Mathias and Wiven go ahead before approaching Arianna and Croaker. He greeted them both with a nod and a smile, placed a hand on Arianna's shoulder and raised an eyebrow at Croaker.

"So?" He asked.

The matronly, desiccated corpse that was Croaker smiled at him. Her expression didn't make her any prettier, but it did convey her wry amusement. "You are a very blunt one, aren't you?"

"You seemed all about secrecy before," Maurus answered. "I thought the less time you spent with me, the less exposure."

Croaker's smile widened. "Speaking to the newest first sergeant isn't that odd for my rank," she said easily. "Some of us are a bit more in the open now. And I thought it would be interesting to pay you a little visit and share a little gossip."

"Yes?" Maurus asked.

"The roars this morning?" Arianna said, smirking. "Gronn, the one-eyed giants that dominate the ogres in the Blade's Edge."

"Interesting," Maurus said doubtfully. He didn't see why that would be cause for excitement, even if it was nice to put a name to those roars. On the contrary, it made the notion of entering those mountains even less appealing. If the gronn were anything like their subjects, they would be stupid but horrifyingly strong and tough for their size and the gronn had sounded enormous.

"No-one knew this, but we had some of the advance scouts tease them a little," Croaker said smugly. "Convinced one of them and his slaves that Forge Camp Terror was an enemy. There's little left now."

That was probably the best news Maurus had gotten in a week and he felt a smile stretch his lips. "That is good."

"Very," Croaker said. "With a little luck, he might turn on Forge Camp Anger too. Whatever the case, this is our chance. Shadowhunter Dejai's forces will deal with the naga, we march tomorrow."

Maurus felt a surge of unease roil in his stomach, but he did his best to keep it form his face, adopting a faint grin instead. With complete honesty and a bit of understatement, he said: "I was getting tired of this swamp."

"You might start missing it when you begin cutting yourself on the mountains," Croaker warned. "It isn't friendly terrain."

"I know Stonetalon and the Needles. Can't be much worse and at least I will get firm ground under my hooves and proper visibility," Maurus said, refusing to let his Croaker's words affect him.

"It's not that bad today," Croaker said airily. The pale light in her eyes moved as she looked away from Maurus and over his shoulder, toward the camp. "I can see a fair distance. Interesting banner you've gotten yourself."

Maurus blinked and turned, catching Arianna's smirk as he moved. True enough, close by his tent, a pole had been set up and from its crossbeam, a dark red banner hung heavy in the moist air. A design was sewn into it and Maurus squinted to make out what it was. After a moment, he realized it was a stylized depiction of a bat-like wing that ended in a ragged stump where it should have connected to a body.

"A torn wing," Maurus said. 'No, he thought, recalling the expression he'd overheard a couple of times, both within the 27th and outside, 'the torn wing'. His taunts and his unit's previous dealings with Ven'Zarul had spread and now that he thought about it, he realized he'd heard it at least once used to describe the 27th as a whole, torn from the Horde but defiant and unbroken.

"Not a bad name," he said neutrally. "More interesting then the 27th, certainly."

"You'll get your chance to get a real wing to fly," Croaker said, her smile lessening to something more dangerous. "You have a mission. When possible, find Ven'Zarul and kill him. The Torn Wing is yours for this."

Maurus felt his throat close and he fought for a moment to swallow and clear his windpipe. His responsibility had just increased tenfold because with his luck, they would have to leave the main force to track the dreadlord down and that entailed much more planning than just following the main force's lead. He took several deep breaths and felt Arianna's hand on his arm. It was little calming warmth that allowed him to feel, beside the half-panic, something like the anticipation he always felt before a hunt, but deeper and more focused.

"Anything else?" He asked and he thought he might be grinning. Croaker certainly looked like he was, giving him an approving smile.

"Be careful. He can track you like you can him and dreadlords are tricky."

Maurus nodded as his stomach flipped a little. He nudged Arianna and said: "Don't worry. She won't let me forget."

"You have your orders then," Croaker said. "Prepare well. I doubt things will get easier from here on out."

They said their goodbyes and Croaker melded away into the crowd as Arianna and Maurus returned to camp. Maurus had just instructed two nearby orcs to spread the word that they were leaving soon when Mathias joined them and as the two orcs left, Mathias asked: "What's the news?"

Maurus smirked as he looked at his friend. He would be ecstatic, that much was certain. "Ven'Zarul is now officially our quarry. Get the sergeants, we need to prepare."

Mathias' grin was vicious and triumphant.

Woo! I did it, I kept a promise. Merry Christmas. I hope this is a pleasant little Christmas present, even if it is mostly setup and feelings.

As always, let me know what you think.