Straydog Saga

Flea 3: Stuck in the Middle With You

"Please, let me explain!" Ima found herself being backed into a corner, or rather a sacrifice pit with no visible bottom, by three very angry looking alliance members. Christoffel reserved his judgment for a possible fellow member of the horde, if she was in fact a Darkspear. As she was backed to the edge, Ima nudged a few bones into the pit. There was silence for what seemed like hours when the sound of crunching finally echoed through the sacrifice pit. Ima felt the sweat pooling around her armpits and back as even more began beading on her forehead.

"Talk fast." Keesha growled as her succubus licked its murder-hungry lips. Ima's deeper but still squeaky voice flew through chattering tusks.

"I-I didn't mean to d-deceive you, honest. I just did this so I could go to school!" Ima flinched as she held her large, three-fingered hands to her face, as if about to be pummeled. Keesha took a menacing step foreword, but felt a plated gauntlet on her chest. She stopped and cast the one impeding her progress a questioning look.

"Go on." Shandori wryly spoke with a raised eyebrow. Ima put her hands down and with a gulp continued her story.

"Where do mages go if they really want to learn from the best? Dalaran! That was my dream: to learn from the best mages from Azeroth and beyond. But how many trolls do you see learning there? Can't think of any can you?" Ima paused, heart leaping at the chance to be proven wrong. But none of the others, not even Christoffel with his connection with the horde could think of any troll mages in the ranks of Dalaran's elites. "So I worked on learning all I could- how to speak your language correctly, how to cast basic spells, but my main focus was on the draconic art of form shifting so I could take the form of a gnome. The spells are relatively simple but unlike dragons that can just change whenever they want, I needed special artifacts in order to conduct the spell. Luckily for short-term change I could just make a potion but it wasn't until I was accepted into the mage's academy that I was able to conduct long-term transformation spells. Monk's magic disbursement spell must have been strong enough to wipe out all the magic around us, including my transformation spell." Ima sighed. She looked with vulnerability her strangely soft looking orange eyes.

"So you mean to tell me, you went under cover as a gnome so that you can become an elite mage, that about right?" Shandori asked with a sly smirk.

"Yeah, I only took this job because it would pay for books, and reagents." Ima stressed hoping to walk away from the edge of the pit. But the trio didn't budge.

"So, just curious: Is Ima Ation your real name?" Ima felt her once sweaty skin freeze. She looked away and nodded.

"Imajin Ation actually."

"So not only did you not fortify your spell against disbursement, chose to travel into dangerous and possibly chaotic magical temples, you went around using your REAL NAME?" Shandori chuckled a little and shook her head. "Oh man you're a wibble!"

"A Wha-?"

"Tell you what. I'll make a deal with you and I think Chris, you may find this agreeable…" Shandori cast a glance to her business partner who nodded for her to continue her thought. "We'll let you live and NOT expose you to the Silver Covenant if you agree to my terms."

"I don't believe this crap. First a blood elf now a troll? I should report YOU to the king." Keesha declared with Monk contemplating the same. Shandori shook her head.

"This isn't about alliance and horde, sweetie. I don't care if you're purple, tan, green, blue, or hoofed: If you get in the way of my goals, then you're my enemy. But if you're useful," she gave Ima a significant look, "then you're my best friend, right Ima?"

"T-that's kind of beautiful in a sick and amoral kind of way-but I totally agree with that!" Ima quickly added.

"Besides, you're a warlock. I doubt your human king will believe you, a demon consorter, over a fellow warrior. And I don't think Monk likes seeing people killed. So Ima, do you agree to my conditions whatever they will be?" Shandori asked, extending her hand to make the deal. Ima sighed and hung her head.

"I don't have a choice." She whimpered, taking Shandori's hand and giving it a firm shake.

"Alright then. Chris, Keesha, and Monk-keep looking for bones I'll join you in minute. Ima, listen up." Keesha began to protest but Monk reminded her about why they were there and how much more money she would stand to make the more bones they found. "You will be working for me and Chris. You will surrender the bones out found to us and we'll be taking your share of this trip's gold."

"B-But—"

"Furthermore, you will be our slave until your first day of class starts. You will surrender all your earnings gained during that time. In exchange we will at no point tell anyone living, dead, undead, or otherwise existing what you really are and we will assist you in gathering the reagents you need to create your disguise or whatever. Sound fair?" Ima slowly nodded and began taking the bones she had in her pack and handing them over to her new master. She could feel her whole body tremble. The classes she would be taken would not be offered for over a year. Her heart sank at the prospect of being their pack animal for an entire year. But once they were satisfied with their haul and convinced there just weren't any dragon bones left, Ima guided them through the safest paths out of the temple. She conjured her faithful water elemental, this time twice the size to accommodate both her new masters, and the group made haste back in the direction of Duskwood, the designated meeting point. Once at the fork in the road the group didn't have to wait long for their employer to appear. Though they were all skeptical at first, the mysterious dwarf kept his word and Shandori's coin purses threatened to burst under the strain. Monk and Lockeesha bid varying degrees of farewell as the group split to hold celebrations in different towns. Monk decided Darkshire would be both a great place to spend his money and help the alliance if needed. Lockeesha made no mention of her destination and left heading north on the road. The mysterious employer mentioned he would be heading to Ironforge to aid his friend in the alchemy experiments and that if he needed any more assistance he would send word to Shandori's P.O. box in Booty Bay. The partners, now a trio, headed to the coastal city to celebrate and regroup.

"Oh man, did you see that whore's face? 'First a blood elf now a troll?' all shaking her ass and crap. Who'd she think she was anyway?" Shandori slurred, purple faced and slightly drooling as she took another swig of high-dollar stout.

"Nah, don't be so mad, don't be so maaaad. She's nothing." Christoffel giggled, character altered by a magic called "SuperGoblin Boomjuice (Jungle Rumble Flavor)", and tipped his empty cup for emphasis. Their mutual servant, Imajin, quickly refilled the cup with a sober sigh.

"C-Can I just get a sip?"

"NO! Its mine, damnit! You can't has it! Haahahaha!" Christoffel shouted through his laughter, snatching the cup back and clutching it to his chest. Shandori hiccuped and nearly tipped to the floor. Her cup sloshed, spilling some of the dark liquid onto her deep blue shirt.

"Aww, alcohol abuse!" She whined and took the shirt off, revealing a brown leather bra. Ima squeaked at the sight of massive scars all along Shandori's left shoulder and midsection. The claw marks, made by a tiger of some sort, were deep and not well cared for.

"Miss Dori,"

"Master Dori to you, Wibbly!"

"Master Dori, what happened to your stomach, I mean the s-scars?" Ima flinched, feeling her stomach sink at Shandori's intense expression. There were a few tense moments between them before Christoffel mercifully spoke.

"A sorry, that was me. Got a little wild last time." He managed to say with a straight face. Chris and Shandori burst out laughing again with Ima nervously joining in. She hung her head and muttered.

"By Zul, what have I gotten myself into?"

A priestess fumbled with a silver comb. She had run such little adornments through her indigo but slightly silvering hair for over 300 years. But she received a letter from one of her daughters, who lived in her former residence of Teldrassil, just days before and the energy coursing through her caused her aging hands to shake. She clasped small pearl earrings into her long, sky blue ears before hastily placing her usual mantle on her shoulders. She shuffled towards her bedroom door, which seemed more like a tangle of birch branches. She placed her palm on one of the larger branches and they opened like a fruit peal into a main hallway.

The great tree in which she and the rest of the priestesses and druids of the Whitebranch Initiative was of Teldrassil's own seed. Though it was as tall as its parent, it was only a scant four years old. Its miraculous growth was the result of powerful magic that the seed took in from the Bay of Storms, in the heart of what used to be The Well of Eternity. The one responsible for bringing it such a long way was a mystery but one thing was apparent: The naga would not come anywhere neat the behemoth. The entire tree was a bright, shining white with specks of radiant color reflecting off its billions of tiny leaves. When inspected, the druids were dumbfounded over its seemingly magical nature yet uncorrupted state. But despite their skill, the druids and priestesses could not make it to the top of the tree, known as the Pinnacle Bow, without the aid of skilled mages that could navigate the arcane currents flowing with the wind above the bay. When it was seemed safe, appointed druids and priestesses started their vigil in the center of the strange tree hoping to finally heal the first battlefield of the Burning Legion.

But that day was one of rest and Iona Sagesmoke would spend it with her children, if all went according to plan. Her pale blue cloak billowed as she dashed down the sparkling hallway, nearly slamming into something soft and fur covered. A fierce blush came to her face when she realized just whom she bumped into. The Night elf had deep lavender skin and long white hair bound in a low ponytail, which unlike most night elves, hung in tight curls. She wore bright white robes and a simple mantle, face obscured by a white fur antlered helm that covered her eyes and nose. She was the appointed steward for Mydrassil, the high-ranking priestess known as Orifiel Whitedeer.

"Lady Whitedeer, I'm so sorry I didn't see you."

"Well she does blend in. Told you should chance that outfit." Spoke a deep voice from beside the reindeer-helmed Orifiel Whitedeer. Another night elf, more specifically a highborne mage, smiled and nudged his companion slightly. Orifiel rolled her eyes.

"He keeps trying to get me to wear this silly warlock garb he calls fashion; ignore him. And it's no trouble at all, Lady Sagesmoke. It happens a lot when I come down here."

"What DOES bring you both down from the Pinnacle Bow today?"

"Well it is the day of rest and the arcane winds are placid. We were planning on spending some time on the mainland. Where were you off to in such a hurry?" Orifiel smiled as she felt the energy surrounding Iona grow bright.

"I received a letter from my daughter. She's coming to visit today with her mate while she's still able to travel. In a few months time I will become a grandmother! At age 150, can you believe it?" Iona nearly squealed but did manage to regain her composure. The elves still struggled with low birth rate. Although physically they were mortal, mentally they still felt they had all the time in the world to procreate. Elunis was just a child in Elvin culture, just 40 years old. But she had found love fast in her mate and they wasted no time in starting their family.

"That is quite some news! You'll be submitting your leave of absence soon then?"

"If that's permissible. I doubt she knows what she's in for with a little one around."

"It is fine on our end. But do send your request to the high priestess as soon as possible. You never know when something pressing might arise." Orifiel smiled and took Iona's hand in hers. "Truly, congratulations! Don't let us tarry you any longer. Go with Elune." Orifiel nodded. Iona said a small prayer to Elune to protect them in their endeavors and continued in her haste towards the east perch where, in place of teleporters they simply could not get to work in such a magically chaotic place, there awaited Cenarion hippogryphs ready to bare and retrieve honored guests and a widow's fondest joys.

"Mother, please stop fussing."

"Its my job." Elunis sighed, her husband holding her up by one arm her mother by the other. Her sickness had gotten worse over the last few weeks and the rough ride to the middle of Mydrassil did not help matters. Her usual indigo skin was nearly as green as her short emerald hair and she stopped for a few moments at a time to control the rising bile in her throat. Iona lead them to one of the many outdoor lounge areas which overlooked the ruins of naga efforts both ancient and recent. Though within the vicinity of the glowing tree it all seemed morbidly beautiful. They sat her down in one of the pale-wood chairs before sitting themselves.

"Are there attendants?" Morion asked, still holding his wife's hand. Iona nodded and motioned to a small refreshment bar. A human woman, one of those commissioned to provide food and custodial services, came to the table with a notepad in hand.

"What can I get for you miss?"

"Some hot tea and honey bread sandwiches, please. Oh and what are those small square crackers?" Iona asked making a square with her fingers.

"Oh salt-crackers. We may have some of those. And if I can suggest, tea can be a little heavy for an upset stomach. We have a ginger-water drink that really helps with sea sickness if you're interested."

"I-I'm interested!" Elunis panted as she heaved into a small container.

"Poor dear. I'll get back with your order as soon as I can. I'll also bring some more bags if you need them." The human woman offered. Iona gratefully nodded and rubbed her daughter's shoulder as the server quickly walked back to the refreshment bar. Once crackers and ginger-water were consumed, Elunis found the world became a bit steadier than it was before.

"So how have you been, aside from a bit sick?"

"We've both been well. I've arranged for a leave of absence from my duties in a few months' time. Morion made some big sales and tell mother about the training business." Elunis nudged her husband, hoping to jar loose some words from his usually tight lips.

"Err—yes. Enrollment is up and we've opened child lessons. I've hired a few more trainers, which means I can spend a bit more time at home when the child comes."

"And I'll be spending some time helping out with the babe as well. It will be nice being around family again. I've missed you both so much." Iona spoke with shining eyes.

"It must be lonely up here away from Teldrassil. But hopefully they'll transfer you back home once they have everything mapped out."

"I hope so…" Iona paused and gave a sigh. Thoughts wandered to her old home, the one she once shared with her husband and two little girls. Elunis was always quiet and adored making her own little games with a few twigs, nuts, and seeds. Her elder daughter, who was fond of traveling to Stormwind with her father, always played with the human boys in their heroes and villain's games. She learned to speak common from them at a young age and learned to wield a sword just as well as any of them. Iona sighed as images from that one night in late summer filled her mind. The shattering glass, the shouting, and the bruises that seemed to remain long after the marks healed.

"Your sister hasn't tried to contact you has she?" Iona asked, all joy momentarily leaving her voice. Elunis shook her head. "I figured if she'd try to contact anyone…never mind."

"I'm worried too mother. The sentinels are involved now. If they catch her…"

"I'm sorry but she deserves the maximum punishment. Babygirl's murder aside, to strike one's own mother? Despicable." Morion scowled. Images of his own began to make their way into his mind's eye but they were quickly banished. Iona shook her head.

"Words were said, feelings were hurt. I dropped the charges weeks ago. I was hoping the sentinels would go after bigger fish than her." Iona sighed. Morion shook his head.

"If they don't find her soon, a bounty will be released alliance wide. My mother was a guard. I know their procedures well." Morion affirmed. Iona's face turned pale as she placed a hand on her chest.

"A bounty, why?"

"Lawbreakers are always brought to justice, no matter the charge. Give it a month and every thief and bounty hunter will be after her head." Iona felt her once beaming heart sink in her chest. She took a slow sip from her flowery teacup and shook her head. "She chose to do what she did. We need to look to the future. I'm sure when the time comes Shandori will realize her mistake and face justice." Iona told herself. If only she could make herself believe it.