Free as a Bird, Drunk as a Skunk
Leading the way out of the tower in which she'd been virtually imprisoned all her life, Joanne was torn between terror and elation. Freedom was so close she could taste it, but her deliverer was an enemy of the Alliance.
Wasn't he? Somehow, she was having a hard time reconciling the stories she'd been told, and the reasons given for SI:7's harsh treatment of suspected spies, with the Orc who now accompanied her. Though he was so immodestly covered by the flimsy cloths that little was left to the imagination, she nonetheless felt inexplicably safe with him, as if he had already proven himself a trusted protector.
She supposed he had. Though nothing was done to harm her, the illusion of assault was masterfully crafted and thoroughly convincing to the blinded Orc. He had nearly killed himself repeatedly in an effort to stop what he believed was being done to her. She had no doubt that had the threat been real, he would have saved her from such a fate.
Lies were told by her former 'masters,' though they preferred the title 'employers,' far too often for her to ever trust them. Her mother had toiled for years under the yoke of servitude for a debt that she could not hope to repay, according to the wording of the contract she was too ignorant to fully understand. When Joanne was born, it was not to freedom but continued service, for the contract absorbed the heirs should the primary servant be unable to pay. So her mother's death did nothing to grant Joanne the liberty she'd hoped for, and she found herself entrapped as surely as her mother had been.
At least Dorath didn't show her the attentions his predecessor paid her mother. Joanne barely remembered the man who used to run SI:7's operations before his death. She only recalled his cruelty, and her mother's tearful confession that he was her father. The memory still made her shudder with revulsion, imagining her mother helplessly assaulted in the prison that was SI:7's tower, without recourse, without escape, without hope.
Shivering, she realized they were at the final door. Stepping through that portal would take her to a world she'd only dreamed of, one she'd glimpsed from the windows or seen from the parapet atop the tower. She'd never set foot upon the grass or touched the trees...
"Is it locked?" Fentulk asked in a whisper behind her. Shaking her head, Joanne opened the door.
Fentulk gently pulled her back and stuck his head out to make sure it was safe to leave. There was no one about; no sentries or even trainees practicing with the archery targets off to his right. Stepping out, he soon saw why.
The tower was nestled in a thicket of tall evergreen trees that nearly hid it from view. There wasn't much chance the tower was visible from the ground below, or indeed from any direction. The location must have been specifically selected for its isolation and secrecy. Obviously, fear of discovery was virtually unknown by the tower's owners. Summoning Moke, Fentulk directed the bird to have a look around. The images he received were disturbing.
"We're in the mountains," he reported as he and Joanne made their way through the woods. He avoided the main path that wound through the trees, hoping to keep from being followed when the guards inevitably woke from their drugged sleep. "Real high up, looks like. Know where we are? What region?"
Joanne shook her head. "No. They never spoke of the tower's location. Perhaps the other servants knew, but I have been here all my life. I have never been outside."
He glanced back at her and took hold of her hand. "Gonna be rough. I'll protect you best I can."
"I know you will," she replied softly, and his heart was warmed by her confidence in him.
As soon as they reached a clearing, he turned to her again and said, "Got a... friend. She, uh, gave me a spell or somethin', so I could talk to her. Ain't sure if it still works, but... gotta try. May be sorta out of it for a bit. Moke's up there; he'll let us know if anything's comin'."
Nodding, she looked around, trying to catch a glimpse of the great bird, but Moke was nowhere to be seen. She had to trust in Fentulk's connection with his pet.
Sitting down on the ground, Fentulk took a deep breath and concentrated on Kora.
***Kora! Kora!***
There was a pause, and Fentulk feared the Orc woman wouldn't respond. Then he heard her voice, and felt a surge of relief... ever so briefly.
***What in the name of the Ancestors is wrong with you? Are you even alive?***
***Obviously. Need help.***
***I told you, I will not help if you are imprisoned...***
***Ain't imprisoned no more. I'm free. Don't know where I am, or where to go. Need your help.***
***If you don't know where you are, I don't see how I can possibly help you. Is there anything around you? A structure, a landmark, anything?***
***I don't know. We're in the mountains. There are lots of trees...***
***Why does it hurt so much to talk to you?***
***How long have I been gone? I lost track.***
***I last heard your... voice nearly two weeks ago.***
***Been tortured every day for two weeks, then. Still hurts. Everything hurts. Thinkin' hurts.***
***They tortured you.***
***Yes. They're with SI:7.***
***Ah! You ran afoul of SI:7? What on Azeroth did you do?***
***I didn't do nothin'! They thought I was a spy.***
***They thought you were a spy? Well, I always did think humans were pathetically stupid. Never mind. It doesn't matter. What do you see, besides trees and rocks?***
***Moke says there's a... town built into the mountain, maybe a mile away. A big eagle... stone eagle... Don't make no sense, but that's what he saw.***
***A big... stone eagle... Are you in the Hinterlands?***
***I don't know! I don't know where the fuck I am!***
***The only place I know of that has a... stone eagle is Aerie Peak in the Hinterlands. The closest Horde post you may find is... well, there is a research encampment somewhere, but it is run by Forsaken.***
***Should I look for it?***
***Don't even try. They are Forsaken. If they see you with a human...***
***How do you know I'm with a human?***
***I see her in your mind. Quite a lot, actually. It's disgusting.***
***Her name is Joanne, and she set me free.***
***Did she, now? And I suppose you feel your 'quest' is at an end?***
***... Yes. She's... she's the one.***
***How delightful.***
***You gonna help me or not, Kora?***
***Yes, I will help you, against my better judgment. Since I don't know where the Forsaken camp is, you'll have to make for Revantusk. It is a Troll village on the coast. They are sympathetic to the Horde, and allow us passage. We have in turn aided them in combatting the more savage Trolls in the region, and there are many. Any Troll you see may be hostile. Until you are at Revantusk, assume the worst.***
***How far is the village?***
***If you head directly east from Aerie Peak, you should reach it in two days. That is when I shall meet you, assuming I have stopped being angry with you over this entire affair. I assume you are dragging this bit of human with you?***
***Yes. She was a maid...***
***Was? Were you the one to fix that little problem?***
***Maid servant. I don't know about the other, and I don't care. And I ain't gonna fix nothin'. Kora, please.***
***Very well. Meet me in Revantusk. I will be there in two days time.***
He didn't even get a chance to thank her before she abruptly severed the connection. Letting out a deep breath, he shook his head. That woman would extract a pint of blood for every ounce of aid she gave, he mused.
"What did... your friend say?" Joanne asked tentatively when she saw Fentulk coming out of his trance-like state.
"She'll help us," he said wearily. He decided not to tell her just yet what a piece of work Kora was. Dealing with the Orc woman wore him out. Joanne's relief was obvious as she let out her breath in a whoosh.
"What must we do?"
"Gotta travel across this region," he said with a sigh. "Called it the Hinterlands. We'll make for Revantusk Village on the coast."
"Is it... a Horde village?" she asked nervously. Fentulk shook his head.
"They're allies, not members," he explained. "Trolls that are sympathetic to the Horde. She'll meet us there."
"Trolls!" Joanne gasped, a hand going to her throat in alarm. Her voice shook and her entire body trembled. "Trolls?"
"Yeah," Fentulk confirmed, nodding. "They ain't gonna hurt us. It's the best choice we got. Kora said there's a research camp somewhere, but it's run by Forsaken. Seems like the Trolls would be a better bet."
Joanne nodded vigorously. "Yes. When compared with... Forsaken," she said with a shudder, "Trolls are preferable."
"Let's get goin' then, eh?" he said, lurching to his feet with a wince. Somehow he didn't think Kora's estimate of two days would be enough.
Keeping the great stone eagle of Aerie Peak on their right, Fentulk led the way through the thick trees heading downward, aiming for the green sward of grassland that stretched as far as he could see below them. If they could get out of the mountains, they'd stand a better chance of seeing what was coming, he thought.
Fentulk's hands itched to hold a bow, or even a knife. Haste had been necessary, so they'd left the tower with only the clothes on their backs. He kept his eyes peeled for a thick enough branch, one that would serve as a club until he found something more suitable.
It finally occurred to him that he'd forgotten something nearly as important as a means of defense. Glancing down at himself, he quickly looked away. He still wore the cloth belt with its flaps inadequately covering his privates and buttocks. He was too big to be completely hidden, and ancestors forbid his body should react normally to this woman's nearness, her beauty, her scent...
Unfortunately, it was not the earth's habit to swallow up Orcs too embarrassed to look anyone in the eye.
It was late afternoon when they emerged from the tower, and getting dark when Moke informed Fentulk that he'd seen a camp not far away. Suddenly on edge, the Orc urged his pet to get closer, see if there were Trolls there or worse.
Stopping for a moment to catch his breath, Fentulk turned to Joanne.
"You all right?" he asked.
"Yes," she said, holding her head up bravely. "I apologize that I am so slow."
He snorted and waved her concern away. "My legs're killin' me. Ain't no part of me that don't hurt. Anything holdin' us up, it's me." Suddenly his eyes narrowed and a confused expression slid across his face. "Blood Elf and Dwarf? What the fuck?" he muttered.
"I beg your pardon?" Joanne asked when he didn't elaborate.
Shaking his head, Fentulk said, "Moke says there's a camp close by with a Dwarf and Blood Elf in it. Don't make no sense, but I suppose it's worth a look. Maybe they can help us."
"Can they be trusted?"
Fentulk shrugged. "Ain't nobody round here can be trusted, if yuh ask me. But if a Blood Elf's campin' with a Dwarf, maybe they won't mind a human travelin' with an Orc, eh?" Smiling wanly, he headed in the direction Moke indicated.
Less than an hour later, Fentulk wasn't so sure. Moke hadn't been wrong for the most part; the Elf's eyes were blue, not green, and so he was clearly not a Blood Elf. More likely a High Elf. What was obvious beyond a shadow of a doubt was that both men in the camp were thoroughly inebriated. The Dwarf looked barely able to stand as he staggered across the camp. The Elf simply sat cross-legged on the ground and seemed to be talking to someone who wasn't there.
"Stay here," Fentulk muttered to Joanne, then stepped out of their hiding place to confront the men.
The Dwarf made no threatening move when Fentulk entered the firelight warily. He simply stared bleary-eyed at the Orc, looking him up and down with uncertainty, and took another drink. The Elf, however, rose to his feet and approached, a hand outstretched and a vacant smile on his face.
"Welcome, friend, to Shindigger's Camp," he said loftily, a slight slur to his voice. "Traveling light, I see. I trust you brought your own. Rhapsody's not in a particularly generous mood this evening."
"Uh... I'm Fentulk," the Orc replied uncertainly, shaking the Elf's hand. "You, uh... mind if me and... a friend share yer campfire? We... need a place to bed down."
Long golden eyebrows arched over the Elf's glowing blue eyes. "And I am Gilveradin Sunchaser. You and your friend are most welcome here. Don't mind the Dwarf; he'll pass out soon and spare you his rough language."
"Stick it in your poncy ass, Gil," the Dwarf growled, then promptly fell face down on the ground. Within moments, he was snoring loudly. Gilveradin grinned.
Fentulk turned and motioned for Joanne to join him. As she cautiously approached, the Orc turned back to Gilveradin and said, "Can't thank yuh enough for this. We're sorta in dire straights. Me and the lady here..."
The Elf's hooded eyes fought long and hard to focus on Joanne, and once they did, it was clear they liked what they were seeing. "Hel-lo there, pretty lady!" he crowed, taking a step closer. Growling low in his throat, Fentulk stood in front of the woman and curled his lip menacingly.
"Ah, I see," Gilveradin said, nodding sagely. "Got a couple of friends who're Orcs. Never get between an Orc and his mate, that's what they say." Pointing a pale thin finger at Fentulk and winking, he said, "Hands off. Got it." Once again, his glowing eyes darted up and down the Orc's nearly naked body, and he smirked. "Seems you're getting a might anxious for nightfall, eh?" His eyebrows waggled suggestively.
Swallowing and glancing uncomfortably at Joanne, Fentulk was about to say something when she laid a hand on his arm and shook her head sharply.
"Uh... right," he said awkwardly. "Can we, uh... use one'uh yer tents? For sleepin'."
The Elf's eyebrows rose even more and he leaned precariously close to the Orc. His 'whisper' was loud enough for Moke to hear as he circled fifty feet above the camp. "I understand. You want to be discreet. Honestly, the old bastard doesn't care. You could have at a Dwarf woman, and he'd just shrug and drink some more. So you two go ahead. Use Rhapsody's tent, over there. He'll never know. Might even be glad somebody got a bit of tail on his bedding, since he isn't having much luck."
Fentulk winced, but tried not to make a big deal out of the Elf's misinterpretation. He hoped Joanne wasn't offended. Without a word, he grabbed her hand and ducked into the Dwarf's tent.
Once they were both inside, he sat down and covered his face with his hands. "Joanne, please forgive me. I didn't want that Elf thinkin' we was..."
"It's all right," she said stiffly, trying to put a brave face on and failing. "If he thinks we're... perhaps he won't..."
Nodding, the Orc said, "Yeah. He'll leave yuh alone. I'll make sure'uh that. You get some sleep. Gonna be a long trek in the mornin'."
"You as well," she said firmly. "You have not been able to sleep well in weeks. I think... we shall be safe here, won't we? Perhaps if he thinks we... He will leave us in peace."
"Yeah. Hope so." Sending a message to Moke to keep an eye on the camp, Fentulk lowered his weary body onto the bedroll. Though there wasn't much point to it, he still tried to pull the front flap down enough to cover himself.
He was so tired. So terribly tired. He not only hadn't slept properly in weeks, he hadn't laid down in weeks. Just that blessing was nearly enough to urge grateful tears from his eyes.
"Fentulk," Joanne whispered.
"Mmm?"
"Thank you. For everything."
"Yuh saved me, Joanne," he murmured. His eyelids seemed to be lead weights he could no longer hold up. "Ain't gonna forget that."
"You saved me as well," she whispered as his breathing deepened in sleep.