Epilogue: Karmic Payback's a Bitch

Amarn's eyes narrowed as he peered through the spyglass. The sun was nearly set, but there was enough light left that he wasn't mistaken in what he was seeing on the island over a hundred yards away. Sighing, he lowered the glass and snapped it shut.

"What?" Derek grumped. He was still nursing an arm injury taken on the ground. Who knew elekk bulls attacked on sight in the wild? They always seemed so calm with the Draenei...

"I think we're done here," Amarn said, and rose to pack his things. Derek grabbed the discarded spyglass.

"Oh ho!" he crowed when he focused on the other island. "I don't think so, numb nuts! If you think I'm missing that big bastard fucking the shit outta her after all I've been through, you're crazy."

Shrugging disinterestedly, Amarn informed him, "I'm going to Telaar. There might be a message for us there. Then I'll be casting a portal and getting the hell out of this cess pit. If you don't want a lengthy trip home ahead of you, I suggest you stop gawking and get moving."

Chewing his lip with indecision, Derek finally growled, "All right. Much as I'd like to see that little bitch take a pounding..."

"Get over it," Amarn snapped as he secured his pack on the gryphon's back. "This is a dead end. We've watched for days, and there's been no change to the traffic in or out of the village. He obviously didn't come here to mobilize the Mag'har."

"Who gives a shit about that?" Derek snarled, standing up and rounding on the mage. "I have been through hell. I wanna see some fucking. I'm owed that, dammit!"

"Save it for when we get to Telaar," Amarn replied witheringly. "Surely even you can hold out that long."

"Son of a bitch," Derek muttered. He barely had his bedroll tied down when Amarn took off. He hastily mounted his own gryphon and launched into the night sky after the mage.

When they reached the Alliance post at Telaar, Amarn was in no hurry to check the mailbox. True, they'd been out of contact with their superiors for several days, but it wasn't likely that anything had changed. He was actually surprised to find a message waiting for him.

The letter was short and concise, typical of Shaw's usual, yet the message froze Amarn in his tracks.

"What's the problem?" Derek asked with little interest. It was very late in the night and almost no one was about. In spite of the nearly worthless peek he'd gotten of the Orc and the woman fiddling around on the island, he'd at least seen one of her tits. Too bad they weren't in Shattrath where tail could be dredged up from the Lower City at a moment's notice and at any hour of the day or night. He'd have at a Gnome if that was all he could get at this point. Even Amarn was looking tempting.

"Hey, uh," he said quietly, edging up next to the mage, "you interested?" Amarn looked up sharply from the note and narrowed his eyes. Derek leered and cupped his privates.

Giving him a withering look, Amarn extended a hand palm up and summoned a small, intensely hot flame. Recalling where the mage used fire on the Orc, Derek swallowed and backed up a few paces. "Never mind," he muttered.

"Read this," Amarn snarled, thrusting the paper into Derek's chest. Blinking, the rogue did so.

The Horde dropped a mana bomb and destroyed Theramore. You are being recalled. Abandon current target. Report to SI:7 headquarters immediately.

The air whooshed from Derek's lungs in a rush. "Whuh...," he gasped. "Theramore's... What?"

"I expect there's nothing left of it," Amarn said evenly, his voice barely masking his fury. "A mana bomb big enough to destroy a city that large... There's likely a crater the size of Dalaran."

"Those filthy bastards," Derek hissed, beginning to shake.

"Dalaran," Amarn repeated thoughtfully, rubbing his bearded chin and narrowing his eyes. "You know, the message says current target." He met Derek's gaze. "It doesn't say anything about targets we identified along the way."

Confused, Derek said, "Whattayou mean?"

A slow grin spread across Amarn's face, baring his even, white teeth. "Interested in a little payback?"

The light dawned and Derek smirked. "The mage bitch?"

"You never know," Amarn said, pulling his portal-casting components from a pouch on his belt. "She might know something about the Horde's movements."

"Might not," Derek shrugged.

"We won't know unless we ask." Amarn began to cast a portal to Dalaran. Derek cracked his knuckles and grinned.

Kora woke with a start when a bucket full of ice cold water was thrown at her. Blinking her eyes clear, she took in her surroundings, panic building. She was hanging by shackles at her wrists in the center of a small circular room of damp and moldy stonework. Her ankles were manacled to the floor. Someone had applied a seal to her mouth, preventing all speech. Her hands and mouth restrained, she could cast no spells to protect or free herself.

Men had grabbed her in the Underbelly that afternoon as she watched some Gnomes fighting in the Circle of Wills. Her spell-casting had been silenced in the tussle, leaving her vulnerable to the blow that rendered her unconscious. She now recalled that no one came to her aid; those in the immediate area looked away as though they wished not to get involved. Now that she was aware again, she wondered if it had been that afternoon? How long had she been out?

"Ah, the princess awakes," a man's voice chortled. Stepping in front of her, his eyes slid down her body and back to her face. She realized then that she was naked. Beginning to tremble, she stared into his one eye, the other covered by a patch.

"Welcome to our humble home here in the mountains, milady," he said with mock gallantry. He even pulled off a swift bow. "I'm sure my loyal servants will make you feel right at home." Glancing to her left, he nodded curtly and stepped back to lean against the wall. He folded his arms over his chest and smirked at her.

A dark-haired man with hate-filled eyes stepped in front of her. "We're gonna have some fun, you and me. Maybe I'll ask you some questions. Maybe not. Maybe we won't have much to say to each other. But you know what?" He stroked her cheek with a calloused hand, sliding it around to the back of her head. Then he gripped her loosened hair, jerking her head back. "I hear three thousand died in that blast. So you know what I think? I think you're gonna pay for each one of them. That's right. You better hope you got enough skin for it."

Kora shook all over. She felt the attunement with Fentulk die a week ago, but in her current state, she forgot entirely.

*** Fentulk! I need you! ***

"Yeah," the man said, releasing her only to pull on a pair of padded gloves. He flexed his fingers leisurely, making sure they fit properly. "You and me'll have things to do for as long as you've got something to pay with." Like a snake striking, he rammed his fist into her gut. The sudden attack would have doubled her over if she hadn't been stretched tall by the chains. All it managed to do was drive a whimper from her, and force her bladder to empty. Derek sneered.

"Not so tough now, are you?" he growled, circling around. "Wonder what else we can work on? Cause you know, I had friends in Theramore. Lotta good friends. Some good pussy, too." His hand slid across her buttocks. Kora squirmed aside, and he chuckled cruelly. "Dorath?" he questioned.

The man leaning against the wall shrugged. "If I didn't see it, it didn't happen," he replied. Straightening, he headed for the door. "I think I've got some paperwork to attend to. Carry on."

The cell door slammed shut. Kora screamed against the gag.

*** Fentulk! Answer me! ***

There was no reply. No whisper. No connection at all. She screamed over and over again.

Derek's laugh echoed in the dank cell.