Straydog Saga
Flea 14: Mortal Strike
The figures in the road were cloaked in more than tattered fabric. The shadows that lingered in the cursed landscape seemed to bathe their rotten forms. Stitched flesh, barely able to cling to bone hung loose on their extremities. Their leader, however, seemed a little better for the wear. Her pallid face was testament to her true state while blazing red eyes seemed to call all who fell within their vengeful sight to an early death. The dark ranger Perrywyn Highraven, like her beloved leader, had little else but vengeance on her mind. The giant black widow spider at her side was a gift from one of the first Forsaken able to tame the beasts and its dripping mandibles seemed all to ready to strike. She smiled at the beast, among the very creatures that had no trouble reducing her quarry to a shivering mess, and spoke kind words as they waited. The rabble, only a few moments down the road headed to the Timbermaw Hold, was extraordinarily loud and clumsy in the dangerous wood. Whether it was confidence or ignorance that lead them forward so carelessly did not seem to matter to the gathering of living corpses, who waited silently for the chance to strike. The forest itself disguised their putrid scent and no breath or pounding heart could betray their positions. There were no signs of interference, as none of the sentinels yet made their way north of Ashenvale to search for the outlaws. A sudden sound caught in Highraven's ear as she motioned for her fellow undead to move into position, well hidden amongst the rotten trees and dead grass. A few moments later the sound of muted laughter and conversation came with the creeping breeze.
"Don't worry pup, we'll get you fixed up. Just a bit more." Meryld assured as she helped prop up the drooping rogue with Ima holding strong on his other side. The group seemed refreshed after their uncomfortable but much needed rest. Daggerfang's nose was growing cold again, but his tongue still lolled and his paws still struggled to move him forward.
"You don't need ta…ta do all this…I think, I think I can walk…"
"No, no no. You just leave it to us. When we get to Winterspring I'll make you some nice troll sweat-sweet, troll SWEET tea! It always perks me up after a long trip, heh." Imajin offered. The sentiment brought a nervous smile to the worgen's face.
Shandori and F-Bomb, leading the pack, did their best not to giggle out loud at F-Bomb's sorted tales of youthful misdeeds. All the while Christoffel and Maiev's attention seemed fixated to the treacherous surroundings. Christoffel felt a strange tenseness in his chest. Each step forward seemed like a dreadful movement. He did his best to quash the stinging in his mind, muttering that it was just his surroundings playing tricks on him. A snapping branch sent his nimble fingers to his hip. In one fluid moment, a throwing knife went whizzing through the air in the direction of the sound. A pained death-screech was its reply. Some small creature, careless in its daily business, met its fate at Christoffel's trembling grip. He walked over to where the creature lay, just to the side of the road and retrieved his weapon.
"This is a horrible place…it plays with your mind." Maiev shuttered. Christoffel said nothing but nodded in agreement. Maiev did her best to focus on the reality she existed in, instead of the one constantly biting at her mind. Her vision darted to the rogue and back to the road. With a sigh she began to speak, words anchoring her in the moment.
"H-Have you ever been to Winterspring before?" She asked, in as soft a tone as she was capable of. Christoffel questioningly grunted before responding.
"Once or twice as a boy…you?"
"I used to go there all the time when I was training as a priestess. That was quite a long time ago."
"The stories never mentioned that." Christoffel spoke, eyes coaxing Maiev to continue. Maiev's pale brow rose for a moment before her lips began moving again.
"I don't know what stories you've been told but they never do. I was particularly close to the high priestess, the one before…the one currently holding the position. I was being groomed as her successor, or so I thought. I've been told it simply wasn't meant to be." She snorted. Dormant hate began to bubble behind her pale eyes but the heat quickly cooled as Christoffel's comforting words met her ears.
"That's alright. Maiev the Priestess of Elune blessing the wicked wouldn't have been as good. My mother liked to tell me about your adventures, fighting the Burning Legion and the mad queen. She was never a fan of druids so I never heard much about the other night elves. My favorite was the one where Jarod Shadowsong rallied the night elf armies after a nearly crushing defeat to come back and fight the Burning Legion." Christoffel said with a bit of spring finding its way into his step. Maiev smiled at the mention of that name.
"My brother is extraordinarily brave, that is true. But your parents told you Kal'Dorei stories? How old are you?" Maiev asked with a raised brow. Christoffel shrugged.
"I'm only about 60 or so, I lost count some time ago. My mother just had a taste for controversial things. Besides I could look up Quel'Dorei stories anytime. It was rare to hear tales about the ancients with the prejudice and all. I myself don't really have anything against you tree-hugging, moon worshiping warrior women. Except for that one over there, she's a menace."
"I heard that, demon sucker." Shandori growled over her shoulder, causing a small smirk to come to the blood elf's expression. Christoffel found himself surprised to see a small, calm smile on Maiev's face.
"What?" Christoffel asked. Maiev closed her eyes and slowly shook her head.
"It's nothing." Maiev nodded, the warmth in her eyes confirming her words. "We're nearly there." She said with a nod, vision instructing Christoffel to take in the sight of the great, gnarled entrance. Though the massive structure was still a 10 minute walk, it dominated their field of vision. The group felt their legs spirited forward, as their escape from the festering landscape was nearly in arm's reach. Just as they reached the final bend another twig snapped. This time it was Maiev, glaive in hand, that tensed in preparation from what may come from the dark places in the wood. Instead of some benign creature, Maiev's glaive struck a deadly projectile that would have pierced her collarbone had it not been for a quick and skillful strike. The object fell to the stony ground in pieces, venom dripping from its arrowhead.
"Get Down!" Maiev called as a volley of deadly arrows began raining upon them. The ground where the deadly shower struck began to melt and rot with a sickening hiss. The group struggled to get off the road and into the safety of the nearby brush, but they quickly found much more than rats within. The arrows, though laced with green death, served to herd part of the group into the waiting arms of more Forsaken assailants. Maiev and Christoffel took cover on the opposite side of the road, heading in the direction of the volley's origin. But where Shandori and the others stood, several rogues, jawless and eyeless, moved with unnatural accuracy as F-Bomb struggled to cast a lightning spell in time. The shock managed to knock the undead back long enough for Ima and Meryld to get Daggerfang in a relatively safe position and for Shandori to strap her hulking shield to her arm. Daggerfang's eyes began to turn a bloodshot red as the sight of the creatures that ravaged his homeland and destroyed his old life began to bear down on them. Despite his injuries the snarling worgen did his best to stand.
"Monsters…I'll KILL UM!" Daggerfang howled, but the action only served to send him to his knees. Shandori's eyes remained on their attackers but she did her best to address the raging worgen.
"Don't you worry yourself, boy. There'll be plenty of bones for you to bury when we're through." Shandori smirked as she launched herself towards their attackers. Their swinging strikes clanged futilely against her weathered buckler and one rogue felt the full strength of Shandori's shield as it came crashing into his ribcage. The force of the blow was more than enough to shatter his ribs and nearly sever his spine. F-Bomb set up her totems and as more undead attackers surrounded them, she began to chant a spell of shattering earth. At once the ground beneath the undead began to rumble as rocky shards rose up and struck their legs and feet. One fell into the shifting earth and was crushed between the cracks. Those who remained felt the pure, smashing rage that was Meryld in her worgen form. Massive weapons crashed down upon them, severing limbs like they were made of dry straw. Ima busied herself with keeping Daggerfang safe from their attackers and his own bravado, casting the occasional slow of freezing spell in the direction of the fray. While the battle in the open was being fought, Maiev and Christoffel sank in the shadows in hopes of finding the treacherous archer but their limited tracking abilities in the rank surroundings made the ranger's escape as effortless as walking.
Maiev felt a wet muck slap against the back of her heavy boots. As she moved, her feet began to stick to the ground until she nearly fell forward. Another few globs hit her arms and hands, as they two became motionless. Though she struggled, another few globs draped her form, barely allowing her to breathe. She managed to let out a warning call before her face was covered in the thick coating. By the time Christoffel managed to find her again, Maiev was a wriggling shell. His eyes went wide, as realization of what they were dealing with came with a sharp bite in the leg. His thick leather pants prevented the venomous maw from digging deep into his flesh. But the sight of the furry mandible and glossy black eyes nearly made him screech.
"SHIT!" He yelped as he began frantically stabbing the creature in the face, causing it to scream and dig its teeth deeper in. With a terrible crawling in his chest and mind, Christoffel stabbed the creature repeatedly until the acrid puss that was its blood ran to the ground in splotches. The beast stopped moving but the rogue hand to pry its jaw open to be free of its bite. He quickly kicked the dead creature away before turning to the still struggling Maiev. He ran to her side and managed to peal off some of the webbing around her mouth before he felt something hard hit him in the back of the head. He slumped forward, a dark gloved hand pulling him back and dragging him away from the still trapped Maiev. Highraven whispered in his ear, with a voice as cold as the knife at Christoffel's throat: "I warned you what would happen…" With a gasp she felt the weight in her arms shift as Christoffel grabbed her by the arm and rolled his body forward, sending her over his shoulder. A deep cut to his neck and the sound of an indignant thud was his reward. Still dazed, Christoffel reached for the knife, still clutched in Highraven's grasp but the dark ranger rolled into the grass and out of sight. Christoffel cursed and stumbled back to Maiev, who in her determination, managed to free her right arm and parts of her chest. Christoffel clawed at the webbing at her legs and stomach, rendering her a killing force once more.
"W-We have to get out of here." Christoffel gasped for air, a look of terror running through his typically stoic eyes. Maiev placed a hand on his shoulder, steadying him.
"What are we dealing with?" She demanded, as she led him back to where the others fought.
"A dark ranger named Highraven, Page of the Banshee Queen. She's very bad news." He choked; face going a tint paler than his usual hue. Maiev studied his features intently, griping her glaive with a little more intensity.
"Why does she and her minions strike against ones of her own faction?" Maiev asked with slight recoil as the realization of what sort of people he had been associating with sparked in her racing mind.
"I knew her as a friend in life but as you can see, that is no longer the case." He spoke resisting the urge to vomit as the recent images of a giant spider gnawing on his leg kept popping up over and over again in his head.
"Get it together. Its obvious by her strategy that you're the one she wants and she'll succeed in her efforts if you let yourself go to pieces." She commanded with a voice reminiscent of a great leader rather than a broken old woman. Christoffel felt a jolt go through him but the nausea and fear did sink slightly. When the pair returned, there was a bone yard waiting for them. Not a single sign of un-life twitched within the severed limbs and disembodied heads that littered the scene. Maiev snorted at the block of ice that was the berserk Meryld as Christoffel's eyes frantically darted to each tree and rock in search of the slightest hint of movement.
"I had to, she wouldn't stop…" Ima sighed, hefting the still trembling Daggerfang. He used all of his strength to kick the bones into the underbrush.
"What the hell was that about? It was like knocking down a bunch of rum bottles…" Shandori panted, placing her shield in its resting place on her back.
"An associate of Christoffel's led the charge it seems. The ones you fought were likely no more than a convenient distraction to isolate the target. Unfortunately she did not get him alone." Maiev spoke with a questioning glace. Christoffel nodded.
"What, why?" Ima asked with confusion in her youthful eyes.
"I'll explain everything once we're in Winterspring. Now let's go." Shandori felt her smug look shift into one of concern at the shivering sight of her constant companion. In all the months they spent in the most deplorable and terrifying of places, she had never seen his shoulder's so tense, hairs seeming to stand on end.
"Calm down, Chris. We got your back. Her little bone buddies didn't last 5 minutes." Shandori insisted. But her words did little to return the color to his face.
"Its part of her planning; this is no time to be smug!" Christoffel spoke with desperation in his voice and an irate look on his face. "In life Highraven could take out 4 fully grown ogre-mages in a matter of seconds. I don't want to think of what she could do to us in death." He hissed. The tone caused Shandori's smirk to return but her gaze averted and she felt her feet slide backwards in his sight. She snorted and looked to Meryld who was beginning to thaw.
"Whatever. Once she's melted we'll just get to Timbermaw and be done with it." She sighed as Ima began helping the process along with a heat spell. But just as it seemed the dust was beginning to settle, the group heard a terrifying shriek. At once they felt their throats began to constrict and close. They could not movie their lips to speak and did everything in their power to breathe. A pair of smiling red eyes watched from a nearby oak tree and the girlish laugh that came sounded almost angelic. As the group stammered and struggled for breath, Highraven immerged, dripping blades in each hand and a razor sharp smile on her pale face. Christoffel, F-Bomb, a nearly thawed Meryld, and Daggerfang collapsed in their efforts to take in air. Maiev, Ima, and Shandori still stood but were not far behind. Highraven seemed to float towards Shandori and with a curious tilt of her head she coolly spoke.
"I find your lack of faith disturbing." She said with a sweet expression warping into a maddened grin as she swiftly kicked Shandori in the stomach, sending her careening backwards into a tree. She looked to Ima and F-bomb and resisted the urge to spit. "Disgusting alliance loving traitors all. I'd say you have quite a following, Stingblade." She said as she took in an unnaturally long breath. Another piercing shriek threatened to cut through the scene as the silencing spell, which was starting to wane, was fully renewed. She turned and slowly moved to where Christoffel knelt. Eyes wide and face turning a slight shade of blue, he felt a dark gloved hand gently move his chin. She slowly retracted the touch and glared through him, briefly remembering what she used to feel when her heart still raced to be in his presence. "I gave you a chance to redeem yourself. But I see no hope in that. I should have known better than to waste my time on something as flawed as that. But all is not lost." She softly, almost lovingly spoke. Shandori watched as Highraven slowly pulled a small green vial from her waste pouch. She opened the stopper and poured the strange, almost gel like substance onto her blade. Each weak attempt Christoffel made to stop the action resulted in an easy block. Highraven gently stroked Christoffel's cheek before issuing one quick grab and pull, lifting the dizzied rogue up and onto his feet by the throat.
"You know I've spent much time planning this little game. Let you struggle, kill you quickly? Every scenario seemed to brighten my day. But in the end…" Her head began to tilt in a half shake, half wobble as she lifted the coated blade high and jammed in into his chest. The blade effortlessly cut through the seemingly thin leather and dug deep into his flesh, missing his heart by a blade's edge. She lifted the curse on his throat to allow an agonized scream to escape into her ear's longing embrace. "I'm a girl who has little time to play." She sighed as she forced the blade deeper, twisting it with a euphoric smile. But her glee, nourished by Christoffel's screams, was quickly drained by a crushing blow to the side of her neck. The swiping blow sent her to her side, black blood and small bits of flesh showering the nearby shrubs and trees. In her haste and impatient glee, her uncontrolled curse removal was not targeted enough and the shadow of a panting but now breathing warrior loomed over her dazed form. Shandori looked to see the rogue on the ground, grabbing at the poisoned knife still embedded in his chest and writhing in sheer pain.
"What did you do to him?" Shandori spoke in a voice that seemed to be in the white heat of rage. Highraven was startled but lost none of her nimble movements. She was quickly on her feet and attempted to cast another banshee wail. But Shandori's movement came first, striking her in the crux of her throat with the butt of her sword. Her voice box was utterly crushed, and airway closed. Though the latter did not matter to her kind, she could not cast her most devastating spell. Blood red eyes darted to any small path of escape as one by one the members of Shandori's group began to stand and rally. She found herself quickly moving to block angry blows was the warrior swung with rage behind white-hot eyes. Highraven effortlessly blocked and parried each attack with her long knives but the force behind the attacks rattled her. She quickly found herself pushed back at the edge of a small cliff. Her heel stopped just at the edge, eyes quickly darting to see green pools and a deep fall waiting for her if she failed. She did her best to side step but she could not move without there being a strike waiting for her. Time seemed to slow as Shandori began pooling all her strength. For the first time since her death, Highraven felt herself shutter. The aura of rage and retribution emanating from the night elf was nearly enough to drive the dark ranger over the edge. Black blood began to drip from her bruised lips. She gaped, unable to speak as Shandori suddenly relented. Highraven sank to her knees, bruised and cornered but knives still gripped to strike.
"STAND UP!" Shandori boomed as her plated boot came down to crush one of the ranger's hands. She opened her mouth but only a small, bubbling squeak came. Like its twin, her other hand was soon felled. Shandori grabbed Highraven by the shoulder and drug her onto her feet. White vision met red and for a moment Shandori hesitated. But the sound of Christoffel screaming reverberated in her audible memory. Highraven's eyes were a wash with fear as no smirk or small came with Shandori's next words.
"You just lost the game." She hissed as she lifted her leg and gave Highraven a thunderous kick to the stomach. Her cloak flowed forward as Highraven hurled over the edge of the cliff, hitting the ground with a sickening crunch. Shandori peered over the edge, sword ready to come down on the dark ranger but the pool of black blood forming beneath Highraven and the blankness in her open eyes was enough to lower Shandori's guard. The aura of rage that still lingered was instantly vanquished by a pained cry from behind. Shandori's heart sank as her feet quickly carried her back to the others, who were grouped around the trembling blood elf. She shoved Ima out of the way and took her place beside him. F-Bomb struggled to cure the poison that devoured the living flesh his now rotten wound but she never studied the art of cleansing. The smell that came from the wound was enough to turn Shandori's stomach. She looked with fear and uncertainty in her eyes to the others who seemed helpless in easing his pain.
"Plague." Daggerfang grunted as he moved to remove the blade from Christoffel's chest.
"Are ya crazy, he'll bleed out!" F-Bomb squeaked.
"Th'longer that thing stays in, th'less time he's got. I know th'smell." Daggerfang growled and tore strips of cloth from his shirt into a wad. Before anyone could stop him, Daggerfang pulled the plague-laced blade out with no reaction from the ailing Christoffel. The flesh around the blade had completely rotted, leaving no living flesh to feel further pain. Black, corroded blood bubbled from the wound. Shandori thoughtlessly moved a gloved hand to remove the bits of dead filth and rot as it threatened to overtake more healthy flesh. The small dots of black rot that found its way to her skin dully burned. Once the majority of the plague-rotted flesh was removed, Daggerfang applied the linen-wad to the gaping hole and pressed. But by then Christoffel was drenched in sweat. He struggled to keep consciousness. The only thing keeping his eyes open was Shandori's nervous encouragement. His eyes struggled to focus on her soft, vulnerable looking face. For the first time since they'd met, he saw tears forming in her eyes, or perhaps it was the sweat dripping into his own, he was unsure.
"We've got to get him to a healer, now!" Shandori shouted, moving to pick him up. "Help me!" She shouted, causing Ima to rush to his side.
"We won't make it to Winterspring in time." Maiev sadly spoke, unable to meet Shandori's desperate gaze.
"Well then where, WHERE?" Shandori snapped. Her eyes darted to anyone who could answer. But each face seemed as tired and helpless as her own.
"Moonglade." Daggerfang reluctantly spoke. "It's a neutral zone. Its close by and we'll find plenty oo'll elp 'im there." He nodded.
"What makes you think the druids will help someone like him? My people wont and I know many tauren who hold distaste for blood elves." Maiev grunted.
"I…know someone there. She wont be able ta turn down a wounded puppy, so to speak." Daggerfang sighed doing his best to walk despite the pain in his legs.
"We'll still hafta negotiate with the Timbermaw to get there." F-Bomb insisted as the group began to move with hastened steps.
"Whatever lets just get going!" Shandori spoke with a shaking voice. When they finally made it to the hold, only one furry face was there to greet them. One of the sagely Furbolgs, grey haired and long in the tooth, looked to them with suspicion until a flash of green caught his vision. He greeted the little goblin as an old friend, F-bomb forced to take the time to return the sentiment. She spoke with great speed as the elder struggled to make sense of her words. But one look at the two rogues spoke more than the goblin could ever hope to. With his permission the group entered the Timbermaw hold dreading the possibility of emerging one member short.