For a brief moment, it felt to Braelyn as if time had frozen. Then she was catapulted forward as blistering heat engulfed her, the smell of burning hair filling her nostrils. The flight was short and swift, and ended with Braelyn smashing into one of the Sentinels' discarded glaive-throwers. The pain was immense, but she couldn't even scream, as the oxygen had all been beaten out of her by the heavy blow of her landing. Yes, the pain was immense, but it was also short-lived. Unable to deal with anymore trauma, her bruised and battered body shut down, her mind mercifully drifting off into unconsciousness.
Bitsie Sprazzletorque was fighting the good fight against the urge to abandon her search and make her escape. Most people had a strong sense of self-preservation, but in the case of someone like Bitsie, self-preservation was an active lifestyle choice. "Ah, girl, what are you doing, huh?" she asked herself, as she nudged the corpse of a female Draenei mage. She got no response, and so kept on moving. "You could be halfway to Booty Bay before Stormwind hears about this monumental cock-up."
But the gnome couldn't leave. She was looking for Braelyn, and if she gave up now, not only could her friend die as a result, but it would also prove all of the human hunter's prejudices about rogues true. So Bitsie kept moving, kept nudging corpses, kept hoping.
She'd been searching for over half an hour and knew that time was not her friend. They had another two hours or so of daylight left, then she'd be stuck in the dark with a bunch of corpses until dawn, and the chance to escape would be lost. There was also the strong possibility that the Horde's clean up crew would decide not to wait until morning.
She'd found Andorien and Odariah already; the two had been huddled together, unconscious, close to the small unused storage shed near the main entrance to the Alliance base. She'd managed to get Andorien, who was near death, into the shed, turning back to find Odariah conscious and stumbling in her direction. Bitsie hoped that by the time she found Braelyn, the priest had recovered enough strength to help the Night Elf.
If I find Braelyn alive, the gnome thought, I promise I'll never pick her pockets again. If she dies on me, though, those pretty daggers of hers are fair game.
Bitsie cursed in Gnomish as she tripped over what she suspected was an orc's arm. The foul stench of burnt flesh reached her nose, and the urge to vomit was almost overwhelming. The explosion that had ended the battle had been the result of several fire spells colliding together. In a way, it had saved Bitsie's life: it had sent her careening into a tree, where she was wedged in between two branches and knocked out. The foliage had kept her hidden from her enemies while she regained consciousness and figured out what the hell do next. By the time she'd managed to extricate herself from the tree, the battlefield had been abandoned, and she'd had a plan.
C'mon, Bitsie, you once made out with a goblin for a dare. Burnt orc arms are way easier to deal with than that...
The sound of bird wings rustling in a tree caught the rogue's attention. A second later, a soft, plaintive hoot was heard. "Giggle?" Bitsie asked, and a moment later the owl came flying down, landing at her feet. About frickin' time something useful showed up, she thought. The owl gave another feeble hoot. "Where's Braelyn?" she asked the bird. "Where's Growly?"
The bird's reaction was immediate; it took flight, cleverly staying within eyeshot at roughly the gnome's height. Bitsie had never been particularly fond of Braelyn's pets, Growly being bigger than she was, but at that moment, Giggle was the best thing that had ever happened to the gnome. Smirking like the awesome rogue she was, Bitsie followed after the owl, swift as shadow, and just as silent.
They found Growly first. He was lying on his side, his fur badly singed, with a long jagged wound along his side. "Hoo, boy," Bitsie sad. "This is bad. I need him to haul Andorien's ass out of here if Odariah can't heal him up. Damn human just couldn't be a holy priest, could she?" Bitsie imitated her friend's accent "'Oh, no Bitsie, healing is sooooo boring! Mind flay is where it's at!'" Giggle let out a hoot that sounded remarkably like laughter before nuzzling Growly with her beak and giving the strange gnome a beseeching glance.
Bitsie rummaged around one of the small pouches attached to her belt, and pulled out one of the few health potions she had left. Before she could talk herself out of wasting a potion on a bear of all things, she pulled the animals' lips open and poured the red liquid down its throat. It took a few seconds, but then a faint gold glow enveloped Growly and his wound began to close up before Bitsie's eyes. With a groggy snarl, he opened his eyes and got to his paws, staggering slightly as he did so. He looked at Bitsie and then padded over, giving her an affectionate bump that set the tiny woman on her backside.
"All right, big guy," Bitsie growled. "Enough of that. Let's go find your master!"
Braelyn woke up feeling groggy and... moist? A huge slobbery tongue worked its way from her chin to her hairline leaving nothing but grossness in its wake. "Gah, Growly, enough, I'm awake!" She opened her eyes, wincing as even the weak light of a dying afternoon made her head feel like it was being stabbed with an iceshard. Muttering under her breath, Braelyn was about to try sitting upright when she felt tiny hands sliding into her pockets.
"Hands out of my pockets, sneak-thief!" she snapped.
Bitsie jumped nearly a foot in the air, barely containing an alarmed shout. "Oh, nice," she said, glaring at Braelyn. "Here I am, risking life and limb to come save you, and that's the thanks I get. Geeze, lady, I was just looking for a few potions, I'm down to my last two now," she added, and pointed to a discarded vial near the human's left arm.
"Hmmph, a likely story," replied Braelyn, but there was no animosity in her tone, and her eyes were full of gratitude as she reached over and grabbed Bitsie's hand. She gave it an affectionate squeeze before asking, "Have you seen the others? Are they okay?" She groaned as she heaved her self upright, giving Growly and Giggles quick pats.
"They're alive."
"But?" Braelyn prompted.
"They're in a bad way, especially Andorien."
Braelyn's heart froze at her friend's assessment. "Then we need to get out of here, don't we?" She saw Bitsie nod vigorously. "Take me to them."
The walk back to Andorien and Odariah's hiding spot was a relief for Bitsie, but would remain one of the most traumatic experiences of Braelyn's life. In the years to come, she would never quite figure out how she had made that trip without breaking apart because of the carnage surrounding her. To her dying day, the smell of burnt hair would set her dry heaving, and if she needed further reasons why she did not want to join the Alliance forces, there were plenty here, littered around a once beautiful part of Ashenvale. The Alliance hadn't lost this battle, they'd been annihilated. Although, Braelyn could not even bring herself to call it a battle, 'mass slaughter' seemed much more appropriate. The fact that one of her friends had survived was miraculous enough, nevermind that they all had.
"Thank the Light!" Odariah said weakly, as Braelyn and Bitsie finally made it to her and Andorien. The priest looked better than she had before, but Andorien looked worse, his skin so pale it was the almost the same colour as Bitsie. "He needs more healing but I'm too weak, do you have any potions?" You could hear the fear in Odariah's voice as she spoke.
"We have about three," Bitsie said, "but we'll need to save them for..."
"No! He won't make it out the door alive if you don't help him now," Odariah cried, kneeling by Andorien's side.
"Bitsie, he looks like he won't survive the hour," Braelyn said, tears gathering in her eyes. The druid's breath was laboured and wheezy, it sounded like his lungs were damaged.
"Please, Bitsie!" Odariah begged. "I'll never forgive myself if he dies! It's my fault this happened... he warned me not to go too deep into the fray, but I didn't listen. I thought I could handle it." She started sobbing. "Darling, darling... "
"Give her the potions, Bitsie," Braelyn demanded, and, seeing the gnome begin to protest, simply picked her up and shook the potions out of her. Odariah pounced on them, and began to pour them down Andorien's throat, one after another.
By the time the last vial was emptied, Andorien's skin was looking much healthier. His breathing had eased a little, his muscles relaxed, and some of his minor wounds had healed over. "Thank the Light, thank the Light," Odariah murmured, kissing his forehead.
"He looks so much better now," Brealyn commented. "After a good night's rest, it should be safe to move him."
Odariah shook her head. "We can't wait until morning, cousin. We need to leave soon, before we lose the light. The Horde will send looters out before they leave."
"Surely, we can..." Braelyn began before Bitsie cut her off.
"You don't want to be the last ones standing on the losing side," the gnome said. "The Horde'll want revenge, and their bosses will want information. There'll be no mercy for us, Braelyn, no quick death." Odariah nodded grimly.
"I heard our parent's talking, 'Lyn," she whispered. "The things they said the Horde do their prisoners..."
Braelyn sighed wearily. "If you think it best, then let's go now. But how?"
"We put Andorien on Growly, and form a tight group," Odariah explained. "Then Bitsie will create a stealth field around us. As long as we stay close together, we should be fine."
"Are you going to have the stamina left for that?" Braelyn asked. "It's a long walk, and for all we know the Horde have people in our base waiting for someone desperate enough to do what we're doing."
"Ain't got much of a choice," Bitsie said.
"Have faith!" Odariah added. Braelyn tried to keep her doubts at bay as she helped the others wrestle Andorien onto Growly, but it was difficult, and her mind was troubled as they began their perilous journey.
They got lucky. After a slow and nerve-wracking journey through the, thankfully, deserted base, Braelyn and her band of not-so-merry adventurers made it to a Night Elf camp. The elves healed their sudden guests as best they could, and after allowing them to sleep for the night, escorted them to Astranaar at first light. Andorien's injuries were extensive, and it was a fortnight before the Night Elf was judged fit to travel. Odariah was by his side the whole time, more patient and quiet than her cousin had ever seen her.
It was strange to Braelyn that she did not feel jealous of Odariah. A few short weeks ago, as they'd sat around a table in the Slaughtered Lamb planning their adventure, the hunter would have been devastated to see Andorien so much as hold her cousin's hand. Since then, however, she'd seen them do much more than that, and hear their declarations of love... and all she'd felt was happiness, and had considered herself lucky to bear witness to such a beautiful thing. Perhaps their collective near-death experience had made her see the pettiness in an emotion like envy, or maybe she was just mature enough to let it all go, to acknowledge that if you truly care for people, you let them be happy, even if it causes you grief.
I hope I get to experience that kind of love, she thought wistfully as she watched the couple in question feeding each other pieces of fruit. Odariah laughed as she smeared a strawberry across Andorien's face. Andorien went to retaliate, but when he reached for his plate, he came up empty-handed. It was Brealyn's turn to laugh as she just barely made out a shadow slinking away from the pair. A suspiciously gnome-like shadow that appeared to be carrying a plate of food.
Braelyn's laugh was cut short by the appearance of a Night Elf woman clad in the tabard of the Silverwing Sentinels. She did not know the elven woman's name, but knew she was the officer in charge of Astranaar and its surrounds. Braelyn did not like her, which was surprising as she generally loved Night Elves. They were peaceful and kind, if a little aloof, and like Braelyn, they found joy in being outdoors, in the wild places of the world. This Night Elf was different, though; she was cold and hard, and had treated Braelyn and her friends with contempt when she'd heard of their experience in Warsong Gulch. She gave the impression that she thought they should have fought to the death there, that their survival was an act of cowardice... or treason.
So strong was her dislike of this woman, that Braelyn didn't even care when she found out that Bitsie was pilfering the Night Elf's belongings.
"You and your friends look to have made a full recovery," she said, eyes unreadable as she studied Braelyn. "Well enough to return to Warsong..."
"No," Braelyn said firmly. The Night Elf looked at her in surprise.
"Excuse me?"
"I said, 'no'," Braelyn repeated, her eyes narrowed, and with her jaw set stubbornly. "We will never again set foot in Warsong Gulch, nor will we take to the hills to wipe out the Orcs up there, unless they attack us first."
The Night Elf commander looked outraged. "Are you saying you're abandoning your duty to King Varian, to the Allia..."
"We were never meant to be there in the first place!" Braelyn yelled, more forcefully than she'd intended. Her outburst drew the attention of everybody within earshot, and Braelyn was relieved to see Andorien and Odariah make their way over. She got the feeling that Bitsie was also near-by. "We let ourselves get talked into going."
"The King's letter said... " the Elf started to say.
"...that I was to be assigned tasks that I felt comfortable with," Braelyn finished for her. Anxiety made her clench her hands into fists at her sides. She did not want to piss off the Sentinels, but she could not, would not, send her friends to the front line again. The adventurer's life was not a danger free one, but it was not as brutal as the life of a soldier either "And we are not soldiers."
By this stage, Andorien and her cousin were standing behind Braelyn, and she felt comforted by the Druid's calm presence and Odariah's hand on her shoulder. With a start, the hunter realised that Bitsie was stealthed, and standing defensively in front of her friends, tiny hands hovering over her daggers. The Sentinel's lips were pursed so tightly they'd turned white, and her silver eyes were full of fury.
"Very well," she said harshly. "If you are not going to aid the Sentinels in the field, then I must ask you to leave. You may purchase supplies before you go. I suggest you take your cowardly asses to Darkshore, plenty of menial tasks for you there, heroes."
"We are not cowards!" Odariah snapped, and stepped forward, fist raised. Andorien grabbed her hand, whispering a few desperate words in her ear. The priest nodded tersely, and let her arm drop back down. All around them, Silverwing Sentinels stood alert and wary, most angry, but a few appeared sympathetic to the outsiders.
An hour later, Brealyn and her companions strapped their new belongings to the backs of some hired hippogriffs, and headed for Darkshore. The cold wind froze the tears on her face, as the Sentinel Commander's last words echoed on and on in her mind.
It would be a very long journey.
AN - this chapter seemed to take forever, and seems half as long as I thought it would be. But I reached a logical stopping point, so there you go. At least it wasn't such a terrible cliffhanger this time.
Next chapter: Braelyn and co reach Darkshore and begin investigating the troubling appearance of Twilight's Hammer cultists.