Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto or World of Warcraft. Time you got with the program, buddy. I haven't owned it all along. Time you got a clue, foo!
Here's the next installment of The Legend of Uzumaki Naruto!
"Aye, sorry to say, but this stuff is useless tay me."
Naruto blinked. "It's what?"
"Useless," the dwarf said, shaking his big, grey beard so that bits of ash fell out, as he observed the large collection of black material before him. It was heaped upon the ground—piles and piles of it, some in huge canvas sheets and some nearly as small as a human's hand, all torn and roughly chopped as if done with a blunt ax. "Aye, cannay do anythin' with this shite. You sure this is dragon'ide?"
"Yeah," Naruto said. He exchanged glances with Undrig, and then looked back at Tenten and Shikamaru, who both observed the piles of dragonhide with fascination. Shikamaru was feeling the material in his hands; it was rough and rigid, not at all like Naruto's silken smooth jacket.
"Well, it's shite dragon'ide. Dinna ken that was possible. See how its been skinned? Wasnay bad skinning, just bad hide. Dinna ken how ye could do this tay dragon'ide, but ye did ay, and it's nay gonnay make anythin' worth wearin'. Sorry about that." The dwarf didn't look sorry at all, just annoyed, and baffled, that dragonhide could possibly fail him in some way.
"Is it possible to do anything with it?" Tenten mumbled, despair growing steadily in her stomach. She'd been hoping for a jacket or something like Naruto's, and Ino and Sakura would kill her once they realized there would be no dresses to make.
"Cannay think of anythin' other than maybe a rug. Not a very nice one either, ay." The dwarf shrugged. He looked at Undrig. "You had something else ye requested, ay? Cannay remember what, but ye should talk to Grimson about it. He's been working on something fierce since ye gave him all that material tay work with. Haven't seen him in a week."
Undrig nodded. "Aye, well, I'll speak to him about it later. We'll be going, unless there's anything you can do."
"Ye want a rug, ay? That's all I can do."
Naruto shrunk, sighing. "Nah, that's it." They left the dwarf, who went back to his little shop, not before throwing an annoyed look at the piles of dragonhide.
"I'll be off, then," said Undrig, nodding to the three shinobi. "Naruto'll be able tay show ye around until the next tram comes. I'll meet ye there, got somethin' for ye, Naruto, and fer the rest o' ye, courtesy o' the new king." He grinned, and nodded. "Drop by him fer a while, will ye? He's been lookin' forwards tay seeing all o' ye, so you wouldnay wanna disappoint 'im, now would you?"
"Suppose not," said Shikamaru, smiling. "We'll be there." He gave the dwarf a formal bow. "Thank you, Undrig-san."
"Ye'd think we'd ay been past all tha' formality? Dinnay mention it, boy." Undrig saluted them all, and then trudged off deeper into the sea of forges that peppered the earth before the looming palace of the former king.
Thauraan did not like the heat of the forges, so he had abdicated to a quieter environment towards the back of the city, shrouded in darkness and pierced by the deep cold of the mountaintop, for it was higher than any of the other rooms in the city.
"Good job, Naruto," Shikamaru said, whipping around to face Naruto as soon as the dwarf had gone. "I'll be getting an earful from Ino about this."
"Me too," Tenten muttered.
"How was I supposed to know it wouldn't be usable?" Naruto grunted, folding his arms back. "I didn't know that technique would damage everything so much. Lesson learned. Besides, there's plenty of dragonhide stuff down south, 'cause that's where all of the leatherworkers live, the trolls. If Sakura-chan and Ino want some dresses than I can just ask them." He sighed, reaching towards the back of his jacket where he could no longer feel the comfortable weight of Magni's Pride. "Besides, I'm still recovering from my loss."
"It's a sword," Shikamaru said.
"Magni-jiisan made it. I really liked it." He sighed. "Stupid dragon. How could he change something that's supposed to be indestructible into something stupid like aluminum?"
"Magic," Shikamaru muttered sarcastically. "Try and get over it, you're being troublesome and childish."
Tenten however smiled sympathetically. She had grown attached to a few of her weapons as well, though she would never admit it. Each weapon had a memory, and that—along with the thought of having to pay for more—was what drove her to pick up each an every one of them after a battle. "You'll find another, I'm sure."
"Maybe," Naruto said, shrugging.
"I wouldn't worry about it," said Shikamaru. "Has Jiraiya-san returned yet?"
"Nah," Naruto said. "He's sticking around awhile. He sent Kakashi-sensei back, and is waiting for Yamato-sensei to come back as well."
"Is he going to come back anytime soon?" Tenten said.
"He sent a message the other day. He's going back with the supply ship from Southshore that Kira-chan sent to help. He says he's got a lot of info that can't be told in coded messages or anything like that." Naruto shrugged.
Shikamaru nodded. Naruto led them away from the broiling heat and thunderous calamity of a thousand hammers striking anvils, of metal being beaten into a vast range of shapes, each one tailored for killing or defending, each one as unique as the maker, who poured all of his soul into each work he made. The dwarves did not do half-assed jobs, did not mass-produce weapons. Each weapon was different and was made with the care and control of a master. That was why they were the best.
"I wish I had some money," Tenten said aloud, her eyes enviously following the racks full of true killing tools, simple in design but so perfect in function. The dwarves knew what a weapon was meant for and held no illusions about it. She respected them far more than she could the gleaming polished weapons and hulking armor of the guards of Stormwind.
Shikamaru smirked. "Nice, aren't they?" he rummaged around in his jacket for a moment, fishing out a cigarette and a lighter and began to light up. "They know how to make their weapons."
"Yeesh, Shikamaru, you starting that too?" Naruto said. "Ino-chan'll kill you."
"I don't smoke around her for that reason," Shikamaru said.
"It doesn't make you look cool," Tenten said. "Just smell."
Shikamaru shrugged, taking a drag and making the face of an inexperienced smoker. He coughed a bit. "Can't deny that."
"So why do you do it?" Tenten said. She cast a glance at Naruto, but the blonde didn't seem interested beyond that. His eyes had gone to the structures before them—a looming cavern that would take them up towards the king's chambers, which were still being refurbished. It looked imposing, but not kingly ash the palace Magni had resided in.
Shikamaru shrugged again. "Nicotine addiction, I suppose. And it makes me lose weight."
Tenten raised an eyebrow. Shikamaru rolled his eyes and continued on puffing, the stench of tobacco easily being covered by the stinks of molten metal and fire. There was no way to escape it in Ironforge; even in its most distant parts the fiery smell pervaded, like smog across the high vaulted ceiling of the underground city. But they had not seen any of its residents pay heed to the stench, and Naruto didn't seem to mind it either, even though he could smell far better than either of them.
But Naruto could have just been ignoring it. He had a lot on his mind.
Shikamaru wondered what he had spoken with Jiraiya-sama about. The Sennin had taken Naruto, Sakura, Kakashi, Kira and the old man off to a secluded room in the castle, while the rest had been shipped off to the infirmary to await treatment and rest. The streets had been quieter than Shikamaru had remembered.
More hostile. Not a friendly face had greeted them.
Only the infirmary remained unchanged, but only because it was so busy that nobody had any time to show hostility—injured humans and orcs and even a tauren or two filled the beds, the result of the daily brawls which occurred in the streets and bars. More came every day, though less and less frequently were they non-human; they had taken to the outskirts, where their settlements dwindled. They were leaving, not in mass-exodus but in trickles every day.
The people warmed to them again—as soon as Kira had announced of their achievement the following day: the last of the Black Flight was gone, and the dwarves had sent news of the reception of their new king, Thauraan Bronzebeard, and the impending union of the Ironforge dwarves and the former Empire of the Dark Irons. She spoke of Ragnaros' destruction and the tentative peace present in the Burning Steppes. She spoke of the shinobi who had done this, and the sacrifice they had made because of it.
But the city felt no less like a prison.
For Tenten and Neji it had been doubly worse. Lee had gone off with Kakashi, back to Konoha, to arrange a second funeral for Gai. The first had been held in a small plot in the back of the castle, held by only those Gai had known and those he had given his life for. With no body or even any personal effects left it had just been a pile of flowers and Lee's forehead protector. It hadn't lasted long, not really—Gai had been mourned and shinobi had learnt not to dwell on death.
But it was obvious they still did. Tenten was more talkative than usual, with everyone except Neji, and Neji seemed to have reverted to his previous self before Naruto had 'corrected' his attitude. Even though she rarely spent time with them, Tenten had joined them for this trip. For all of them it was a relief—Shikamaru felt a little sorry for those stuck back at the castle. Jiraiya hadn't let many of them go.
Jiraiya-sama seemed annoyed often now, and Naruto mentioned to them on the way to Ironforge that he wasn't usually like that unless he had something heavy on his mind. But he wouldn't speak of what they had talked about.
"Boring stuff," Naruto said. "And lots of yelling. I got yelled at for being stupid, is what it pretty much was, and that Tsunade-baba's probably going to have words with me when she hears about it. Then he asked Kira-chan a bunch of questions and we told him what was going on and all of that. He also told me about a new ally…"
"Ally? With whom?"
"He was vague," Naruto said, sourly. "That was near the end, though. He said he wanted to keep it a secret for a little while longer, while they still worked out the details and things. Apparently they still haven't totally agreed to an alliance with Konoha and the stupid council members are trying to contest it and all of that politics that I don't really understand or care about."
"You were in there a fair few hours," Shikamaru said, still not convinced.
"Yeah," Naruto said, nodding. "A lot of yelling."
Naruto had recently gotten a little better at lying, but it still didn't sit with Shikamaru.
By contrast, the mood in Ironforge was one that only a group of beings sequestered within a mountain, out of range and touch with the suffering of another kingdom could maintain—contentment approaching normality. The death of their long-time king remained fresh in their minds—but the prospect of a new king, one that had not been eroded by time and suffering and who so far was proving himself to be a very capable learner, was also fresh. The dwarves seemed excited by this new king, and the fact that the previously war torn empire of the Dark Irons would soon be under their control. The blacksmiths seemed most pleased by this. It had been a long time since any of them had worked with dark iron before.
But nothing had been seen of the dark iron dwarves yet. Not one of them had yet set foot within the city boundaries, as far as Shikamaru knew.
He wondered what Thauraan might do about that, if indeed he could do anything at all.
Shikamaru wondered if a boy-king could really do anything to change the world.
Perhaps the world would change him.
The climb towards his chambers was long; the passage went straight up six flights of stairs, large enough that it might be difficult for dwarves to manage.
"They certainly make it obvious," said Tenten aloud.
Both Naruto and Shikamaru were shaken from their thoughts. "What?" they said.
"That they're compensating for something." She grinned.
Naruto snickered. "Doesn't it? The gnomes are just as bad."
"It's no wonder they're all loud, then," Shikamaru said, a grin tugging at his lips. "I mean, when you were short, Naruto, you could've matched one of them easily."
"Oi! I'm tall!" He paused.
"But where it counts?" Tenten said, smirking.
Both Shikamaru and Naruto blinked, and then stared at her. She flushed and said, "What?"
"Geez, do you joke like that with Neji? Can't imagine him being the expressive type…" Shikamaru said, scratching his head.
"Of course not! Besides, why is it weird when I make a—"
She stopped when they reached a doorway, flanked by well-armed dwarves who gave Naruto winks as he walked by. The next room was small in comparison to the rest—circular, windowless, and simple, nothing like one imagined a child's—or even a king's—to be.
Thauraan sat at the far end behind a large, stone table. He looked up, his face brightened and he cried, "Shikamaru!"
"Yo," said Shikamaru, grinning at the dwarfling. "How's things?"
Thauraan leapt from his seat and waddled across the room, the other dwarf present shaking his head as he stood as well. The ancient sword-master had barely aged a day since Naruto had last seen him, almost two years prior.
"Och," Berlyiro said. "Ye've come to distract him even more than he already is. Thanks, boy."
Naruto grinned at him. "No problem, old man. How are you?"
The old dwarf stretched, grinning. "Och, I'm fine, fine, aye. Tired—comin' outta retirement tay be the chief advisor and steward, as they call it, to ay little brat is not one o' my better choices, I think." Thauraan swiftly turned from where he had been hugging Shikamaru and Tenten to glare at the old dwarf, but he didn't say anything.
"Suits yah, though," Naruto said.
"Aye, I'm good at dealin' with brats, as you taught me." Naruto rolled his eyes and then looked over at Thauraan. The dwarf was deep in conversation with Shikamaru, who just smiled and nodded at whatever the little dwarf spoke. Thauraan looked completely relaxed, though from the speed at which he spoke he must have been nervous.
He looked small in his kingly robes, decked in black, gold and silver.
"I don't think I'm doing so well," Thauraan said.
"You're young. That'll change," Shikamaru said, taking a final drag on his cigarette before tossing it away and fishing out a new one.
"Yer one ta' talk, boy," Berlyiro said, walking over in a much more dignified fashion than his king had. "Barely a man yerself."
"I've done plenty of changing already."
"An ye'll do even more." Berlyiro lifted up a pipe he had taken out. "Gotta light?"
"How are things going for you, Thauraan-kun?" Tenten asked. "In the city, I mean? How do people find you?"
The dwarfling looked at Berlyiro, who was busy getting his pipe to smoke, and gave a small shrug and then straightened as if remembering himself. "It's going…okay. They know I'm young, and they all respect Berlyiro, but they're waiting to see what I can do. They're happy that things aren't going to change too quickly." He spared another glance at Berlyiro. "That's what he says at least."
"Aye, an' it's true." The old dwarf scowled. "But they don' realize things are gonna be changin' regardless. Pretty soon, ay."
"Shikamaru," Thauraan said, turning away from Berlyiro before he could being a tirade (of which he had learned came often and sudden) "I still haven't found them."
Shikamaru slipped from a lazy smile to his normal annoyed frown. "Any ideas?"
Thauraan nodded. "That's why there's nobody else here. I dismissed all of my father's previous advisors."
"Good. You're going to have an election of a sorts, then?"
"I'm going to choose them myself," Thauraan said. "I mean…" he looked at Berlyiro. "With his help, and yours if you can…"
Shikamaru made a small noise in his throat. "I don't know…"
"You probably can," said Naruto. "You'd be good at that."
"You'd be better," said Shikamaru. "I deal with concepts, not people…" he sighed. "Jiraiya-sama wanted us back—"
"But you're good a jutsu and stuff like that. Identifying them."
Shikamaru looked at Naruto. "Why do you think they're affected by a jutsu? Could they not have betrayed by themselves?"
"Maybe," Naruto said. "But we already encountered somebody who could use a mind-controlling jutsu, and since it's Akatsuki, then, you know—"
Shikamaru thought a moment. "That changes things, I suppose…but still—"
"I'll go back," said Tenten, "and tell him what happened. This is easily more important, don't you think?"
"He wanted Naruto back for training, didn't he?"
Naruto blinked, and then grunted. "How'd you know that?"
"I guessed," said Shikamaru. "It would be important. That's what you didn't want to tell me about, right?"
Naruto glanced at him. "Yeah. Guess I'm still getting used to the fact that you know about…you know…"
"Don't worry so much," Shikamaru said, rolling his eyes. "Was it important?"
"He said it was. Really important."
"Then you should go. It might be something you'll need pretty soon in the future. Jiraiya-sama is an amazing shinobi and he wouldn't say something was important unless it actually was."
"I know," said Naruto. "But you gotta stay. I'll keep one of my clones here as well, just in case."
"Keep several, if possible, so you can get regular updates." Shikamaru turned to Thauraan. "Sound good, your majesty?"
Thauraan nodded. The dwarfling gave Shikamaru a crinkled, joyful smile that only a creature that looked like a slightly larger infant could manage. "Don't call me that, Shikamaru. Just Thauraan."
"Thauraan-sama."
"Good."
Shikamaru chuckled and nodded. "Anything else?"
"Other than you guys gotta get down tay the forge again soon. Bet Undrig's waiting fer ye." He grinned at Naruto. "He's got somethin' fer ye all, I should think. Give ye enough time tay be amazed and still get yer train back."
Naruto perked up. "Does he?"
"Aye," Berlyiro said. "You and the lassie might wanna head down now. The pineapple boy an' His Highness may wanna talk a bit tay figure out who they're gonna pick. He'll give ye the lowdown," the old dwarf waved them off. "Come back soon, though, ye hear? That princess o' yours is gonnay want tay make a speech here soon enough. I don't think people are entirely convinced anymore. They'll need somebody tay shape them up."
Shikamaru nodded, glancing at Naruto. "That'd be your job."
"How come I get the hard stuff?" Naruto muttered. "Fine."
They left Shikamaru in the chamber, waving a quick goodbye and exchanging a final cheeky remark that left Naruto with the feeling of dread that he'd have to confront both Ino and Sakura about the fact that they no longer would have vests and skirts of dragonhide. Berlyiro was already talking as soon as they had left—his excited voice echoed down the chamber.
The trip back was faster, and neither Naruto nor Tenten spoke much. They found Undrig standing at one of the largest forges near the back, right at the steps of the former king's palace. It was hotter than the others, and the dwarf was much older, his hair so grizzled and in such small quantities that he looked like a rock overgrown with fungus.
"There ye are," Undrig said, grinning as he saw them. "Suppose Berlyiro sent ye back?"
Naruto nodded. "He said you had something for us."
"That I do." Undrig turned to the old dwarf, who grunted and set a few black-wrapped packages on the table in front of the forge. The cloth looked very fine and concealed a variety of shapes—one long and thin, one cylindrical, a few hand-sized, and a small satchel that looked like it was filled with coins.
"Ye know that big thing that Nefarian coughed up, that I made ye all carry back?" Undrig said, lifting up the first package—the thin one, about his height.
"Yeah."
"Well, I did it fer ay reason. And this is it. Ye were torn up o'er your last sword being broken, I know, that's why I had this one commissioned especially for ye. Made with the first dark iron o' the Dark Iron dwarves we've worked with for aywhile. And a little something extra, of course—"
He unwrapped the cloth, it fell like silken shadows away from possibly the most beautiful sword Naruto had ever seen.
The scabbard was black and simple, but when Undrig drew it, it gleamed brightly in the surrounding flames. The blade was dark grey and within it Naruto saw fire reflected. Not just in the forge or the glow from the molten iron river, but from deep within. The flames seemed trapped within the reflection, yearning to be free but unable to find their way from the smoky blade's confining edge.
Naruto stared at it.
"This…this is mine?"
Tenten was also staring at it.
"This…this is his?"
Undrig grinned. "Aye. Ye'll find it a bit more difficult tay manage—it's full length, since you're getting bigger and we figured ye'd like a bigger sword tay match that, and its not as durable—dark iron's really durable but it ain't no match for adamantium, but it's got a few things that'll make up for that."
"What's its ability?" Naruto mumbled excitedly, reaching out to touch the blade, which seemed so cool despite the flames reflected within.
""Dinnay, gottay find out fer yourself. Guarantee it'll be different."
Naruto whistled.
"These other things," said Tenten. "What are they?"
"Present for all o' ye who helped in the mission." Undrig's eyes danced. "Ye'll have tay choose who gets 'em, since we only had some o' the material to work with, but it includes a pair o' gauntlets—" he jabbed a finger at the cylindrical package. "A couple of bangles—" he pointed to the smaller packages, "and a few rings an' things. Prime stuff, guaranteed tay be an improvement tay anything else you might have. Each of them have their own abilities as well—but as I said, you've gottay find that out for yourselves."
"Amazing," said Tenten, itching to find out what the other trinkets looked like, and what they could do, but too polite to move.
"Thank you, lass," Undrig winked. "Now, you'd best be going, the tram's aboutay leave. You can look at this stuff on the trip back."
Naruto sheathed his blade, looking at Undrig. "Thanks," he said.
"Best use it correctly, brat," Undrig said. "Don't want you breaking another one."
"Right," Naruto said, rolling his eyes.
Undrig accompanied them as far as the entrance to the tram station, and then bid them farewell. When they had gone and he could hear only their steps and chattering voices he left, making his way back towards the forge. The streets were thankfully deserted, so that nobody was able to seem when he fell to his knees, clutching his head.
"So what is their plan? Are you in danger of being discovered?"
"No," Undrig said, breathlessly. His body spasmed, and his fingers bit deeper into his temples.
"Good. Keep at it, then. When you next have the opportunity…"
"Aye," Undrig said, nodding to himself.
"Well done. I have something else to take care of where I am now. Okashira-sama might have something else coming for you soon. Continue to do what you do best, until then, and maybe I'll give you what you want."There was a dark chuckle within his head, soft and playful, belonging to someone who appreciated irony.
"Or maybe that's what I want. It doesn't really matter, now does it?"
Undrig released his temples and stood shakily to his feet. The voice had gone, but he answered anyways.
"Aye."
"He has not been seen in several weeks, not since the failed meeting," Golbarn said. "Not even by his own personal guard."
"How's that possible?" Neera muttered. She leaned against the side of the wall, the earthy claw rubbing off on her cloak. Her glowing eyes were the only things visible beneath her hood. "There are so many—"
"There's no point in questioning it, when I do not know a thing," Golbarn snarled. "I'm telling you what I know, and that is all. He has not been seen."
"Fine." Neera crossed her arms. "So what do you know?"
"There is trouble in the streets. People are anxious, angry, that Thrall has not addressed them, especially with the concern the death of the dwarf king has brought to our shores. They know of the accusations—"
"How?"
"Rumors, travelers, I should think. We get more of those these days than in the past, and the trolls, who now lie closer than us to the humans, are better informed of their progress than us. Furthermore messengers have come from the human settlements and tried to meet with Lord Thrall, but have been turned away, only to—"
"Be met by people like you, right?" Neera smiled, though it was not readily apparent. "How many others are as concerned as you, and not in the know?"
"Most of the Kok'ron Elite," Golbarn said.
"Those are Thrall's personal—"
"Lord Thrall, to you, elf."
"Sorry," she said. The lack of sincerity made Golbarn bristle with annoyance. "Lord Thrall's personal guard? How can they be his personal guard if they don't see him?"
"There are two groups within the Kok'ron Elite," Golbarn said. He waved at a fly buzzing by his ear, and tried to get a little more comfortable in the narrow alley that nearly brushed his shoulders with each movement he made. "The outer group—the Urk'ron, who specialize in heavy combat and number the best of Lord Thrall's fighting warriors, and the inner—the Gor'ron—who are primarily shaman who fight alongside Lord Thrall in battle, masters of the Bloodrage that once so afflicted our kind. The Urk'ron have been sent away, and are barred as any other from entering. They say that Lord Thrall himself told them to leave, and to not return until he emerges. Nothing has been heard of the Gor'ron, and some believe that a coup has taken place, with the Gor'ron heading it."
"But you don't believe it?"
"I do not. They have no reason for such a thing, but that is not the only reason."
"What's the other reason?"
Golbarn grunted, shifting his weight again within the confines of the alley.
"Why'd you choose this place if you can barely fit in it?" Neera said, raising one of her long, arced eyebrows.
"It is inconspicuous, especially nowadays. People have more pressing matters to attend to."
"Like what?"
"Like managing a city that suddenly has no leader," he said. "Things have been…degrading, since Lord Thrall has stopped speaking to us. Goblins flourish their destructive trade when Lord Thrall once kept a close eye on what they did and what they sold. Businesses fail—people are leaving for the border regions like Ashenvale, the Crossroads, Mulgore and Thunder Bluff. Our trade has been stifled with the lower regions of this continent and nonexistent with the Eastern Kingdoms. Our economy declines; not much now but unless something is done it will continue exponentially." He growled, and spat to the side, his black eyes blazing.
"I have heard of things across the waters, and I am not impressed. The humans are calling for war."
"It isn't that bad, not yet," said Neera. "They caught the killers of Magni, and Lady Kira has informed her people of what truly happened."
"People will believe what they want to, regardless. They are looking for excuses."
"Please don't treat people with such generalizations." Neera said. "I might be young but I know enough about people to know that."
"You know very little then, elf, about how the world works." Golbarn shook his head. "You underestimate the rotten blood we have with the humans. It will take more than just words and hope to erase that."
"And please don't underestimate the young," said Neera. "We know that but we also know that things can, and will, change. You old-timers need to accept that."
"I am not old."
Neera grinned. "You are by my guess." She suddenly glanced up. Her ears twitched. She frowned.
"What is it?" Golbarn grunted.
"Nothing," she said. "Thought I heard something."
"There are many things to hear."
"Something different, I meant. Now, back to the matter at hand, what exactly leads you to believe that there has been no coup?"
"They have made no announcements, not declared their new regime, for one thing. A coup does not happen in such secrecy and would not take so long if it were possible. I am of the opinion that Lord Thrall would be able to crush any coup by himself."
"Boastful," said Neera.
"Perhaps. Another reason is I've seen something strange in the last few days."
Neera looked up again. "Seen what?" she asked, not taking her eyes off the crack between the rooftops, where she could see nothing but darkness and the dull light of the cavern, purplish against the towering ceiling of the cavern they stood in. The Cleft of Shadows was only partly covered by a dome of rock, the other parts spilling into the rest of the residential area of the city, in the Valleys of Wisdom and Strength.
"A bird of peculiar size and whose origin I cannot identify. I have seen it twice."
Both of Neera's eyebrows rose. "Your powers of deduction might need a bit of work."
"Birds of this size are not common around this area, nor I have ever seen any of such size. The wyvern masters have commented on it as well, but they have not been able to get close enough to see it properly. It disappears before anyone can try to find it."
"Maybe a bird is trying to take over Orgrimmar," Neera said. She rolled her golden eyes and wrapped herself tighter in her cloak. "I don't understand, what does a bird have anything to do with this? Shouldn't you be trying something else? Like actually going in and trying to find Lord Thrall?"
"It has been done."
"And?"
"He merely sends them out. They speak of nothing out of the ordinary."
Neera frowned. "That's a bit odd."
"Yes," said Golbarn. He fingered the hilt of his sword. "I am not in the habit of defying my leaders. But I need to know what is happening. It is something wrong. In more ways than one."
"How?" Neera asked. Her eyes went up—there was that sound again, like creaking and clinking wood. It was not uncommon for the place they were in, but it just sounded…
"I've questioned those who forced entry—they are not normal, not anymore, but I cannot identify what is wrong with them. I have little experience with such jutsu. But I think something must have been done to them when they were inside."
"So if you think there was something done to them…" Neera shifted towards the right wall and let her hand fall to the triple-bladed star that hung around her waist, the typical weapon of any Darnassian Sentinel. She listened carefully. "Why don't you do something about it?"
"What are you doing, girl?" Golbarn snapped. "What do you hear?"
"I don't know," Neera said. She frowned. "Let's keep moving, I want to get out of here as soon as possible—tell me on the way. Do you speak any other languages other than Orcish and Common?"
The orc growled. His eyes were on the rooftops now as well. "No."
"Then keep it in Orcish."
"Do you speak such a thing?" he said, in Orcish.
"I've been learning." She smiled.
He nodded. She began to back up, slowly, and then very quickly when the reached the edge of the alley, near the wall of the cave. There was space enough for them to fit, and she began to walk alongside the cave wall, as Golbarn scraped along behind her.
"We can't do much about it," he said.
"Why not?"
"Because I've begun to see changes in more than just those who have entered Grommash Hold. I realize that these changes might have been present long before. Whatever has happened did not happen recently. Lord Thrall was not even the beginning, and it shames me that I did not notice the changes, so subtle they were." He growled as a bit of the wall, which stuck out at various angles in jagged outcroppings, scratched his arm. "Do you hear anything else?"
"No," she said. "Keep moving."
"We should stop our discussion. You must think we have been compromised."
"Maybe," Neera said, but she was frowning, still. "But by what?"
"Discover it for yourself."
Neera had vanished before she finished the sentence. She landed lightly, silently, on the roof of the hut next to her. Her glowing eyes saw everything, even in the darkness—especially in the darkness. But there was nothing, no movement, not a soul.
She listened again. She could hear no creaking sound; it had been odd, almost like bones working together towards movement. But bones were not wood. Furthermore, how had it discovered her and Golbarn in such a tiny, remote area?
She heard a sudden tumbling of rocks and a scuffling behind her. Neera turned to see Golbarn hauling himself onto the roof, swearing silently under his breath. The orc seemed even bigger now that walls did not contain him. She hadn't remembered him being so huge.
"Find anything?" he said.
"No," she answered, turning and giving the area another once-over. "But I doubt it was my imagination."
"Then leave. Now."
"We haven't finished. I don't have much to tell Lady Tyrande. What do you think is happening, honestly, and how do you intend to fix it?" She fixed him with her golden gaze. He scowled.
"We have been infiltrated. By whom, I don't know, but why is an easy guess, do you not think?"
Neera gave a very slow nod. "Yes, I suppose so. Now we just need to know who…"
"Just go. Return to your queen. I will send word when I need aid. You have a hearthstone, do you not?"
Neera nodded. "Of course. Saves the trouble of going back through security. Take care of yourself."
Golbarn nodded briskly. It was hard to tell whether the look on his face, with his lips slightly peeled back as if he were about to snarl, was a glare or his attempt at a smile. She decided on the latter, nodded and reached into her pocket to take her hearthstone.
She was mid-way through the seals required when it struck.
It came from the shadows, barely one itself and moving so quickly that Neera had no time to turn and register what was happening before it was in front of her, snatching her hearthstone from her loosened grip and then away back into the shadows. She gave a shout, and Golbarn moved. His blade was free—it gleamed red and silver even in the darkness. He struck at the shadows, his blade carving through clay and wood as he sought out his foe.
But it was gone. There was only a distant clinking and clattering, but that disappeared too.
"What the hell was—" Neera began.
"Shut up," said Golbarn. He was breathing heavily, his great nostrils flaring. "Did you see it?"
"No, I—"
"Its limbs clacked like a doll's when it moved. I did not see anything else—it was hiding in the darkness, in that thick black cloak." He sheathed his sword, and glared, trying to listen for it in the distance. But by now even Neera could not hear it, it was gone and to where they had no idea.
"You're stuck," Golbarn said.
"I know," Neera said. "What now?"
Golbarn growled. "We find out what's going on. I'll send for the humans, especially the brat. I want to know exactly what is going on."
"How?"
"Will I send for them?"
"Yeah."
He thought a moment.
"I have my ways."
"Hey," Sakura said, poking her head through the door. "Want to go for a walk?"
Kira glanced her way from where she sat staring out the hole in the wall of the chapel. It had yet to be fixed because of a stone shortage, which were en route from the quarries to the north. Kira sat in the middle of the room astride a chair, her back to the bookshelves, resting her arms on its back.
"I suppose," she said, getting up and walking over. Tsuwabuki sat on her haunches outside, behind Sakura, and moved to brush against Kira in friendly greeting. Kira smiled and stroked the fox, who was large enough now to reach her stomach. Her fur was darker than before as well, like the blade of a polished sword.
"He doesn't take you anywhere anymore, does he?" Kira said, smiling.
Tsuwabuki responded. "He made me stay, and I don't like Ironforge's smell. But you can't understand me anyways, so I don't know why I make the effort."
The walk down the hallway and steps were relatively silent, but not uncomfortably so. Tsuwabuki padded behind the two girls, as softly as if she were not there.
"That's a pretty top," Kira said, noticing the change in Sakura's clothes. Rather than the red sleeveless vest she always wore, Sakura now bore a long-sleeved crimson shirt, loose around the sleeves so they covered her arms but tight around her bust and showing what scant cleavage Sakura could manage. It was made of silk. "Where'd you get it?"
"Thanks," she said, smiling. "I made Jiraiya-sama buy it for me, since my other one was quite pretty much ruined." She tugged at the sleeves. "Doesn't suit me terribly, but I still like it."
"It suits you perfectly," said Kira, shaking her head. "But it could do with a bit of green, to match your eyes."
"I was thinking that," Sakura said. "Also, I don't know about the chest—" she gripped her breasts and made a face at the amount of cleavage that formed. "It'd suit someone like you better."
Kira rolled her eyes. "Of course not! Red makes me look strange, and there's plenty to see." She glanced down at her own chest, covered by the white robe she wore. "Besides, at least you can show off what you have, I'm not allowed to wear anything Benedictus considers 'indecent'."
"There's still more there than what I've got on show," Sakura said, grinning. "How did you do it?"
"I didn't do anything," Kira said, blushing a bit. "They just sort of…grew."
"They always do," said Sakura with a sigh. "That's the same thing Ino and Hinata told me. I've got an edge of Tenten, though, if only a little. I tried everything, but apparently they've reached their limit in me."
"Of course they haven't," Kira said. "We've just barely hit puberty. You've got plenty of time to grow."
Sakura opened the door, flushing their faces in the sunlight that glazed the courtyard gold. It was a brisk day, slightly windy but pleasant as they walked towards the gate, nodding to the saluting guards they passed, stopping when they reached the sprawling city below them, and then abruptly turning along the castle walls framed by the year's flowers, gently withering at the approaching winter, not knowing where they were going but perfectly aware that that was the purpose of a walk.
They talked about more things like this—little things that normal girls spoke of; things Kira rarely talked about with Kylia. Gravity did not darken their conversation; there were no intruding thoughts of what the future might bring or how to solve the current problem. Both girls merely relaxed in pleasant, harmless chatter.
It was so easy to fall into, for some reason. Sakura talked a lot, but not in a boring way, introducing fresh topics before conversation could peter out, each one making Kira hungry for more. She spoke at length about the history and politics of their world, things that Naruto hadn't bothered to learn about, but still fascinated Kira to no end.
They settled behind the castle, facing the vast forest that lay beyond the city walls. They could see the mountains in the distance. Tsuwabuki lay behind them like a large cushion, just listening and enjoying the sun and the fresh air.
"Did Lee return with Kakashi?" Kira asked, after a moment's silence of just watching the fiery sprawl of autumn's trees.
Sakura gave a very small nod. "Kakashi-sensei wanted a funeral in Konoha as well."
"I'm sorry I couldn't provide a better one."
Sakura shook her head. "You did well enough. Gai-sensei would've enjoyed it, I think."
It had been brutally short. A quiet affair, surrounded by only those Gai had known and those he had died to protect. It had been a sunny afternoon, warm as well for the season. It had taken place in the gardens behind the castle, just a few words and an hour's silence. There was no picture to put up or body to pray over, just a small wreath of flowers and a Konoha hitai-ate placed over it.
So simple, so quick, yet it would remain with Kira forever.
"Do you think he will come back?" Kira asked.
"Of course," said Sakura. She smiled at Kira a little. "Lee-kun likes this place. I don't think he couldn't, not when Gai-sensei gave his life for it, you know?"
"Yes," said Kira. She paused. "That man, Jiraiya-sama…when do you think he will let us meet these allies of his?"
"He was pretty vague about it, wasn't he?" said Sakura, frowning. "Soon, I think—I'm curious to know who they are."
"As am I," Kira said. "But happy that we have more help."
"Same. It must be another Hidden Village—I can't imagine which one, as the Hidden Sand is already with us, the Hidden Mist and Stone would never join us, neither would Cloud…I don't know much about Hidden Rain or Grass, or it could even be any number of the smaller villages on the border countries—Hidden Star, Ice, Waterfall…it could be any of them."
Kira nodded. "But could it be anyone else?"
"I don't think so." She glanced to the side again. "Has anything come from—"
"Lord Thrall?" Kira shook her head. "No." The worry was apparent in that one word.
"Something has to be going on."
"It is impossible to say at this point." Kira shrugged.
They fell into silence again. It was less comfortable than the last one, but neither knew what to say. The silence one got before in desperation, one of them had to bring up something that neither knew if they should talk about it at all.
"I have a question," Sakura said. Her voice wavered a little as she spoke. She cleared her throat.
Kira looked at her. "What is it?"
"It's a bit odd, and a little sudden."
"That doesn't matter," said Kira. "Does it need to be asked?"
"I think so."
"Okay."
Silence. Sakura shifted uncomfortably as she fought for the right words.
"Do you…like…Naruto?"
The words tumbled out, quicker than Kira was ready for them. She blinked and opened her mouth to answer before realizing it wasn't as simple a question as she had expected, and the answer was not readily available. "What?" she managed.
"Do you like him? You know…that kind of 'like' that isn't the kind of like that could be taken from that sentence. The other kind of 'like' that girls like us are supposed to know about…" Sakura swallowed. "That kind of 'like'."
There was silence again, as Sakura waited patiently for the answer. Kira stared at her, and then nodded, but didn't speak.
"Ah," said Sakura, nodding.
They sat silently. The breeze seemed a little colder and the sun a little less bright. Sakura felt something strange rise up within her. It made her mind jump, the information—usually so carefully organized—jumbling together so that she could hardly concentrate on anything. This was way different from anything she had ever felt. What was it?
Not jealousy, no—there was no basis for that. Kira had just said something about what she felt, nothing that could inspire jealousy. But what?
Kira cleared her throat.
"Do you?"
Sakura blinked back. She almost answered "no", almost, but somehow couldn't quite let her lips release it. It sat on her tongue, and died in agony. She was aware that this time the silence rested on her but she didn't know what to say.
"I…really…" she gave a small shrug, "…have no idea."
"Not at…all?" Kira asked, very quietly.
"Some," said Sakura. "But it's just…I've never…it feels different."
"What do you mean?"
"From how I felt about…" Sakura trailed off. She glanced at Kira. "Have you heard about this?"
"A little. I'd like to know more, though."
So Sakura told her. Sakura didn't know how long it took, lost in her memories; she just kept on talking until there was nothing left to say. She found it so easy—as if she was just speaking quietly to herself, and Kira was not even there.
"So it's weird," Sakura finished. "I just don't know how to—"
"Figure it out," Kira said.
Sakura nodded.
They fell silent.
"We should stop talking about this," Sakura said.
"Why?"
"Because," Sakura thought for a moment. "We just became friends. This sort of thing, in my experience, generally leads to us not being…you know…friends…"
"At the moment," Kira said, quietly. "Does it really matter?"
Sakura glanced at her. "What?"
"All of this…" Kira gestured vaguely about. "There's so much happening—do you really think we have time to deal with this? I mean, this is really nice…" she smiled softly at Sakura. "Talking with you, I mean. I've never been able to have normal conversation with anybody, not even Kylia—she always insists on putting my identity as the princess before my identity as Kira. You're probably the first person I've ever had the chance to talk about with such casualness. I don't have the same experience as you, I know, in this sort of thing—"
Sakura cut her off. "I hardly have 'experience'."
"You have more than I." Kira shook her head. "What I mean is, I do not want this to stop, no matter what. I feel I will need this sort of conversation, even if just a little, in the coming months and I don't think it's possible for anything to come of this particular topic of conversation at the moment…" She sighed. "There is a war. I can hardly think of these things at this point in time—especially with Naruto."
"He's a bit thick, I suppose." Sakura said, smiling.
Kira nodded, also smiling. "I also think it would complicate things unnecessarily. Perhaps we could continue this conversation some other time, then?"
Sakura looked at her. Her smile seemed so natural, casual, unburdened. It would've looked in place on a mature woman who had experienced much in her time and knew how to prioritize. But it didn't sit on the face of a young, naïve girl who had not even begun to experience the things that girls their age should already be knee-deep in and who had not even begun to learn to deal with these strange, new feelings.
But Sakura understood.
"Sure," she said, and smiled back.
She's afraid too, Sakura thought. Just like me.
"What a lovely conversation. Didn't know you had it in you, Sakura-chan." A voice fell, laden with suppressed snickers, from above them. The girls jumped and glanced up to the top of the wall. Jiraiya crouched just on the edge, his superior grin mixed with the usual amount of sleazy interest that made him epitomize Naruto's affectionate nickname.
"Jiraiya-sama!" she called. "Did you—"
"Heard only a bit of it, wasn't really listening," he answered, laughing. "Don't mind me. Just gathering information."
"There isn't a bath hall for miles!" Sakura shouted, glowering up at him.
Then, it occurred to both of them that…
Both girls shuddered unconsciously.
"Don't flatter yourselves!" he roared. "I don't perve on kids."
"Is there something we can help you with?" Kira called.
"Just wanted to talk," said Jiraiya. "About a few things, neither here nor there. We can meet Yamato and Sai-kun back inside, since it involves them too."
"Are they back?" Sakura said.
"Yep! Let's go, you two." The giant hermit turned and disappeared behind the wall.
The two girls got up and followed, just as night began to fall.
Grommash Hold stood alone at the top of a hill in the Valley of Wisdom, at the entrance to the Cleft of Shadows and the hidden slums of Orgrimmar. Outside it had once been an active place—guards would come and go, people would pass by on the lower streets in awe, merchants would sell their goods along the streets (it was the most difficult spot to get); it would have been lively, the epicenter of the greatest city in Kalimdor.
But now it was silent.
Alone.
It seemed abandoned; a skeleton of the glory that it once had housed. The doors were shut and locked; no guards could be seen along its battlements.
But if anyone had been there, they would've heard a slight rattling approach it. Nobody would've found its source—it disappeared abruptly as it rounded the palace, approaching it from behind, through a hole hidden within the rock, unknown to anyone but those who had built the place. To small to be noticed.
The figure disappeared within it; a mouse could have hardly squeezed through, yet the man-sized being slipped through the hidden jutsu easily.
It emerged behind a throne of bone and skin, raised on a dais. The click-clacked to the throne's left side and dropped something into the waiting hand of the one who sat upon it.
"Utter obedience," the man said aloud. He lifted the hearthstone and showed it to the sole figure in the room, who lay prostrate before him. "What you seem not to even think of cultivating."
"Some of us have a heart," the green-skinned figure growled, miserable in comparison to the black-clad man atop his throne.
"That's no reason for anything," the man on the throne said. "Just another word for pointless emotion, don't you agree?"
"You continue to mock me."
"And you continue to question my mockery. Is it not the duty of those in power to mock those who do not have it? Is that not," the man smiled pleasantly—not widely or full of humor, just as if the look might offer some comfort, even if it did not reach his eyes, "…what the natural order of things dictates?"
"You have strange views."
"Maybe strange in the open. Everyone thinks of them."
The orc growled. "Why not kill me?"
"Why question that which is not going to occur at your insistence that it should?" The smile stayed in place.
"I insist nothing."
"In your words."
"And you presume to see anything else?"
The man did not laugh, just smiled. "I suppose you're right. But I learn to understand people, especially when I have seen more of what they contain than most people ever will through observation and philosophy."
"Their flesh is not the same as their souls. People are not made by skin, bones and blood."
"Perhaps not." The man cocked his head to the side. "But it depends on what your definition of a person is."
"You are not included in it."
The man shook his head. "I am human."
"I see nothing human in you."
"Then you're not looking hard enough. It is perspective. This," he gestured to the figure by his side, tall and gaunt and clad in red, still as death, "was once a man. I simply replaced a few organs and blood and flesh. By your definition, he should remain a man, should he not?"
The orc was silent.
"He is not a man," the black-clad man said. "He is a puppet. But I suppose that depends on perspective as well."
Akasuna no Sasori began to move his fingers as if to a tune. The figure in red began to move as well, dancing a sort of jig.
He continued to smile on Thrall, Warchief of the Horde, from the throne.
"Some would say a man is a puppet, pulled by the strings of life. If so, that would make both of us men—and this our brother. But I suppose we must take into account…"
He raised his other hand and moved the fingers slightly.
Thrall's arm twitched and rose, imitating the gesture.
Thrall's eyes, electric blue, burned with fury and his teeth were bared in hatred.
"…who controls that puppet."
Sasori stopped making the puppet in red dance. He guided Thrall slowly to his feet, and waggled his fingers.
"And I suppose that if I am controlled by life…"
Thrall began to slowly sway from side to side. His movements were jerky and unresponsive. He continued to look on the man who now stood before him.
"…and you are controlled by me…"
Thrall began to dance, haphazardly as if tugged by strings that were not there. He closed his eyes, shame overcoming him.
"…then that makes you…"
The smile was still there, the same as ever.
"Not even a man."
I apologize for the lateness—I had exams in between writing this chapter, and with the onset of summer comes the onset of that beginning laziness. I don't even have a job yet…ugh…
Well I realize it isn't much of a "break" for you guys, the characters are getting some rest and a chance to figure out things for themselves.
The Jiraiya-conference scene was too tedious to reenact, since it contains mostly information that you guys know of. Nothing really new that wasn't revealed already in the chapter.
Also, I apologize for the changing accents of the dwarves. I like to experiment with Scottish accents and after reading a Scottish play for my English class (Gagarin Way by Gregory Burke), I think the Dunfermline accent is pretty nice and kind of suits the dwarves in a way. It'll probably change again…sorry!
And before Warcraft fanatics get on me about Thrall, just wait a moment. Take a chill pill, if you will—if you have concerns about it, just wait a bit, or if you want to make a claim about Thrall' power level in comparison to Sasori's, also wait a moment because I don't want you guys comparing my Sasori to canon Sasori. They're a bit different, if you haven't noticed.
I'll say this much. Wait for the next chapter, and you'll find out what happened.
Maybe.
:)
I won't see you guys for a few weeks—I'll be writing the chapter in my head and on my napkins on the plane, as I'll be in Egypt for three weeks starting Friday. I hope you guys enjoy your June, and expect to see another chapter sometime in July! Sorry :(
General Grievous