Chapter 4: Groundwork
In the chaotic and dangerous world of Azeroth, it was always a good thing to find yourself a companion or two. It beat staring down a gigantic bear alone, or sleeping with your back to a tree after taking the gamble of whether a campfire would keep wild creatures and/or monsters away or cause them to notice you whereas before they would not have done so if you hadn't done something like light a campfire. Of course, this also meant you could get shot in the back so the bear would have something to chew on while your 'companion' prepared to kill the beast, or that you would wake up in your underwear with all your gear stolen (if you woke up at all). Such was life.
It was generally thought, though, that Draenei were trustworthy. Well, more trustworthy then some of the people Zackel had traveled with in his adventures. Like a twitchy-looking gnome who babbled interesting stories around the campfire about armies of noble werewolves who would one day emerge from Silverpine Forest to lay siege to the Molten Core. Draenei, on the other hand, were the last remains of their kind, fleeing the Burning Legion after suffering so much at its hands, noble servants of the Light who would gladly lead the charge for justice no matter where it went.
This Draenei warrior was leading the charge, but Zackel was pretty sure she didn't want justice. She wanted something to hack until it stopped moving and/or emitting liquid. Despite that, Zackel was pretty sure that she wouldn't be planning to follow up on her threats towards him.
Pretty sure.
He'd been pretty sure about the plan as well. He wondered how many more times that was going to pop up and mock him.
Still, once she'd stalked away from him for several seconds, the Draenei's stance and posture changed, and she began making her way along at a slightly slower and much more cautious pace. Zackel watched her for a bit, recognizing it as discipline. She'd been tasked with something, and she planned to do it, and do it well. That was also better than some of the people Zackel had worked with.
After doing it for a few seconds, Zackel quickly realized his watching of her could be construed as him staring at her rear, and he quickly averted his eyesight in another direction. Not like he could see anything with all the armor the Draenei was wearing. Even the tails the alien supposedly had was out of sight, presumably tucked away somewhere safe. Zackel idly wondered where for a few seconds, and then quickly abandoned that line of thought. For all he knew, Draenei had psychic powers. Or were very good at reading faces. Or maybe she didn't even have a tail. Or maybe he should wonder why he was locked in this strange circular pondering. There were more important things to do.
With that possible misunderstanding stopped before it began, Zackel continued after the Draenei as the two went ogre hunting. It proved to be a wise move, as exploring the rooms and stairways of the very dirty and bad-smelling fortress did turn up a few stray ogres. They met a quick end via axe and staff, the Draenei again doing most of the work.
"So, can I ask…"
"Quiet." The Draenei said, approaching a door next to a flight of battered wooden stairs. "Basement level."
"You want to go down first?"
"Why? So I can be your meat shield?" The Draenei said, looking at Zackel.
"In all honesty yes. I saw you shrug off those arrows. I figure you'd be better served to face an ambush than me."
The Draenei cocked her head at Zackel, and for a moment Zackel wondered if she was going to see if anything was in the basement by throwing him down the stairs into it.
"Might not have to go down." The Draenei said, turning away from the door and heading towards the freshly-killed ogre corpse that was cooling down the hallway.
"Oh?"
"Been around. Know how ogres think. If you're not in the Blade's Edge Mountains anyway." The Draenei said, and with one swift downward cleave she hacked the ogre's head off. "Ogres don't like it if an outsider kills one of their clan and uses it to question their own strength. Going down into the basement could leave us vulnerable. However…"
The Draenei returned to the door, holding the ogre's head in one hand.
"If there are any actually down there, then any grown ogre worth his salt won't be able to resist this."
With one ferocious kick, the Draenei knocked the door open into the basement.
"THIS IS WHAT I THINK OF YOU WORTHLESS OGRES! YOU ARE ALL AS PATHETIC AS HE!" The Draenei yelled, hurling the ogre's head into the dark below. Zackel blinked.
"…Are you…"
A bellowing roar came from the basement, and the Draenei stepped back, taking her axe in both hands.
"Something ogres don't realize about charges to answer insults against their strength."
Said answering ogre crashed up through the stairs, trying to squeeze through the door and swing its own axe at the warrior at the same time. The Draenei nimbly dodged the blow, and actually waited a moment for the ogre to fully get itself out of the doorway. Zackel didn't know if she was being honorable or just taking her time to set up her attack.
It seemed to be the latter, as the ogre's second swing buried itself in the wall, the Draenei ducking under the attack and nearly carving the ogre's leg off with her own axe. The ogre screamed in pain, a scream that cut off as the Draenei whirled around and slammed her axe into the falling ogre's face, almost splitting its skull in half.
"They tend to work better when they're not alone. And done…"
The second bellow sounded in the Draenei's ears, and she turned left towards the second ogre charging down the hallway.
A blast of ice flew over her shoulder, forming into a crystal spear that impaled through the second ogre's chest. It crashed down at the Draenei's feet. She stared at it a moment, and then slammed her axe's pointed hilt into its head as well.
"I could have handled that."
"Just in case." Zackel said. "That was a nice technique though."
"Hard-earned." The Draenei said. "Ice up the floor here, would you? I'm going to shove the ogre's body down and repeat the challenge."
"How long should we wait?"
"Ogres aren't patient." The Draenei said, as Zackel did as she asked. Despite walking on the ice he'd formed, Zackel noticed the Draenei didn't lose her footing at all.
Tossing the ogre body down and repeating the challenge garnered no immediate response. The Draenei waited, and then dragged and threw the second ogre body down the stairs, without too much apparent effort either time. That got no response either.
"It's clear. Let's move on." The Draenei said, heading for the stairs next to the basement door.
"You sure?"
"You can go down there and check if you want." The Draenei said, in a tone more appropriate for talking to a child. Zackel glanced at the open door, but in the end closed it and followed after the warrior.
When they came back down the stairs to do a quick secondary sweep, the door remained closed. Somehow, Zackel wasn't much surprised.
The sun had begun setting (though the Alliance members didn't actually know that) by the time Zackel and the Draenei settled down into the best room in the fortress they could find: a large central room on the upper levels. It came with a fireplace, two braziers for lighting, crudely stacked wood along one wall for said fireplace, and the most intact furniture in the building. From what Zackel could tell, it was probably where Mug'thol had made his quarters. It even smelled better than most of the fortress, though that wasn't saying much. The pair's explorations had only turned up one more ogre, who'd died quickly to an ice projectile through the eye. With his demise, and their follow-up sweep, they had been able to roughly classify the Alterac stronghold as 'safe'. True, they hadn't been able to explore the two main stairwells that lead to the fort's roof, mainly because the ogres had either broken or taken the doors off the actual exit to the outside at the top of the stairs, and enough snow had piled up at the entrance and on the stairs to not make it worth the hassle. If no ogres had come down those stairs when the storm had started and by the time the mage and warrior had ventured along, they wouldn't be coming down at all.
"Can you clean this?" The Draenei said, peering up the chimney, a pile of snow having gathered on the remains of the last fire.
"Clean and better. I can probably arrange something to prevent any more snow falling on our fire. I also happen to be a decent alchemist." Zackel said.
"Is that needed? How long can this storm last?" The Draenei replied, ignoring Zackel's subtle bragging again.
Zackel really wished he hadn't fallen silent. The Draenei quickly noticed, swiveling around to look at the wizard once more.
"…first of all, you have to promise not to slam me into the wall again."
"…you DID do this! I was just angry before but you actually…!" The Draenei said, stalking towards Zackel.
"Hey! Whoa! Wait! I had no idea you were around before you dropped out of the sky and started playing Whack-A-Ogre! I was trying to survive!" Zackel protested. It did not stay the Draenei, who marched right up to Zackel to glare into his eyes. It was around then Zackel noticed how tall she was: he was far from short himself, but she had two inches at him at least.
"What. Did. You. Do." The Draenei said.
"If I tell you, are you going to hit me?"
"Probably. I'll hit you more if you don't."
Zackel swallowed again.
"Okay, okay. I activated a rune manifestation called the Song of Storms. It pumped arcane energies into the atmosphere that manipulated temperature and pressure to create an intense, constant blizzard." Zackel said, and drew in a long, slow breath. This was going to suck. "However, having not been able to direct the release when I triggered it, I lost control of it. Without another mage performing a suitably potent counter-spell, the mystical energies will continue to maintain the storm conditions far longer than it would occur in nature."
"…how long?"
"…Several weeks."
The Draenei started raising her axe.
"I'M SORRY! I DIDN'T MEAN IT!" Zackel yelled, throwing up his hands. "I was going to use the storm and my specialty to escape! I didn't know you were here!"
"…True. You didn't." The Draenei said. "That spares you the axe."
"Thank you."
The Draenei stomped on Zackel's foot.
"OW! THAT WASN'T MUCH BETTER!" Zackel said, hopping around.
"Speak for yourself." The Draenei said, turning and walking towards a dirty table, as she began picking over its contents. "Believe me, I want to do worse. What with your blizzard, and your lack of portal runes. Idiotic mage."
"Trust me, my day didn't turn out how I wanted either." Zackel said. "Well…look on the bright side. We won't starve. I might be lacking Runes of Portals, but I have other supplies. With what you have…"
"Which is virtually nothing." The Draenei said.
"…what? You don't have any supplies? Why?"
"Because of you STUPID MAGES." The Draenei growled, turning her blazing eyes towards Zackel. Zackel took a step back, before he realized her tone was different. She didn't seem to be talking to him, or about him.
"…okay. Okay. Right. All right. What we don't have, I can make. I have camping supplies, medicinal supplies, other things stored in my bags, thank you magical enchanted carrying capacity…" Zackel said. "I'm not strong enough for my spell to maintain constant snowfall. It'll dump snow for about a day or two, and then spent the rest blowing it around. Hell, another wizard could wander by and dispel it tomorrow."
"Perhaps you'd better hope that happens." The Draenei said. Having cleared the table to her satisfaction, she reached up to her face. A few subtle motions undid the face-mask she wore, and she turned and placed it on the table. Reaching up, she slipped her helmet off, carefully sliding it down and off her horns.
It was that motion that made the images come.
Fire…
Screaming…
That red, mocking mouth…
"Mage? Mage! Snap out of it. We have accommodations to work out."
Zackel blinked, once again back in the Alterac hold. The Draenei was looking at him, her face exposed. She had blueish-purple skin, her shoulder length hair a blend of black and silver, long bangs of it tucked over the front of her horns, which curved along the length of her cranium before tilting up at the top. Her features would have been quite lovely if she hadn't looked so cross.
"…accommodations?" Zackel said.
"You got me stuck in here with you. You are damn sure going to work it off."
"First of all, give me your food. All of it."
"My food?"
"All your natural, prepared food."
"I can…"
"I know you can manifest food. YOU can eat that. If I wanted to eat your mage foods, I might as well go eat the snow outside for all the good it would do me."
"Our provisions are…"
"Don't care. These negotiations have one rule. I make them." The Draenei said. "Second, you said you had camping gear. Do you have furs, blankets, cloaks, whatnot?"
"Yes…"
"Give me those as well. YOU can sleep with the stinking ogre bedding."
"Right then. Shall I arrange a schedule for your daily armor polishing next, my good lady?"
"You haven't SEEN me in a bad mood, wizard. I heavily suggest you avoid it." The Draenei said. "Now, we're going to go back down into the lower levels. First we're going to find everything we can scavenge. Well, first we're going to dump all the corpses of those ogres into the basement, but you know what I mean. Once we've found everything we can, you're going to bring it up here. And when you're done that, you're going to go around and lay your little mage traps on every single door there is. I'm not having any ogres sneak in here, and if any do I'll beat them to death with your body."
"…that will take…"
"As long as it takes. You WILL do it." The Draenei said. "And don't try anything cute when setting your traps. If you rig them to goose me or something for revenge or whatnot, I'll clean the floor with your face."
"Shall I make a whip for you, draenei? Just to complete this whole illusion of slavery?"
"You're still not funny, wizard." The Draenei said. "I saved your life, and you greatly inconvenienced me. I have places to go, and instead I'm stuck here with you. So you can do it, or I can convince you. And as you have seen, I can be VERY convincing."
The look she'd given him as she'd finished was all the convincing Zackel needed. He'd sighed inwardly, and gotten to work.
The Draenei hadn't sat around watching him, though. She'd actually helped a lot more than he'd expected. He'd still had to carry more than half of the salvaged items upstairs, and laying all the traps and warnings had been even more exhausting. Zackel had tolerated it by making it a training exercise. Practice made perfect. It probably would have made this day go better, if he'd had more of it.
The Draenei was sitting by the newly set fire in the hearth when he returned, eating one of his roasted quails; she did not offer to share. Zackel felt his stomach growl, and with another sigh he prepared his own meal, quite literally. He had to admit, conjured sourdough bread did lack something compared to normal food, but it filled him and gave him the nutrients he needed.
"…how would you have escaped if I hadn't shown up?" The Draenei abruptly asked as Zackel was chewing on one of his mouthfuls.
"…from the ogres?" Zackel said after swallowing.
"No from the murlocs with wings, yes the ogres." The Draenei said.
"…well, as said…survive until the Song triggered. It caused near-whiteout conditions. I was going to use my mage abilities to regulate my body temperature and use the winds as a guide to get out of Alterac. Which is why I can't do that now. It only works with me. You could freeze to death. Probably would, who knows how long I'd be wandering around trying to get specific bearings while hoping my powers kept me alive. Fel, it might be worse for you. Don't Draenei come from a warm place?"
"What's THAT supposed to mean?" The Draenei said, her voice dipping into low, dangerous territory. If Zackel had taken another bite, he might have choked on his food. The Draenei had been irritated and/or cross before, but now she sounded genuinely offended.
"Nothing! I just…well I've heard some things about your home and…"
"Whatever. I can handle the cold." The Draenei said, and promptly gave Zackel the cold shoulder again, not saying anything else as she cleaned up her food, took off her armor (which took a while: it was elaborate armor) and rolled herself up in his blankets to sleep. Zackel had tried not to look at her as she did so, busying himself in categorizing the items the Draenei hadn't taken from him.
He thought he'd doze off after that, but instead he'd found himself too tired to sleep. Instead, he watched the fire, occasionally adding a log.
He'd been watching it for several minutes before the memories of what had happened when he'd seen the Draenei's face came back. It had been a while since he'd had them.
Probably understandable why. Though he doubted the Draenei would understand. Putting said memories back into a mental box, Zackel began meditating to recharge his mental batteries.
He'd been doing that for a bit before he noticed the Draenei's stirring. He found himself drawn to it, observing and assessing the motion. When he figured it out, he couldn't help but smirk. The Draenei was cold.
He wasn't much surprised. She'd demanded his clean furs and whatnot for bedding, but by the basis of who he was, he didn't need blankets as much as some people did (some dwarves had once asked him if he had any of their race in his family tree), and hence he'd reduced the thickness of his personal materials to save room. Beneath her armor, the Draenei had worn an under-layer of thin leathers: he suspected all the sweat the Draenei had emitted had likely been absorbed by it and was catching the cold air in the not-exactly-super-insulated fortress. And while he was stuck with the unpleasant materials the ogres had used for bedding, they were considerably thicker. And Zackel, being an aspiring alchemist as well as a mage and a dabbler in gnomish engineering, had a pair of nose plugs.
And of course, Draenei came from a warm place. Maybe.
Zackel didn't enjoy the Draenei's discomfort long, though. As rude as she was about it, she was stuck with him because of his actions. That, and if she slept poorly, she likely would be in an even fouler mood the next day. That, and…
"Damn it Zackel." Zackel groused, and removed his nose plugs to begin the very unpleasant process of smelling his bedding. After several minutes and a few retches, Zackel had located the least-offense part of the ogre's furs. Standing up, he dragged it over to the alien. He considered just dropping it on her, and then decided he didn't want her jumping up and punching him due to a mistaken attack. Kneeling down, he began placing the fur on her.
He never saw her move. He also never saw exactly where she got the knife. All Zackel knew was that suddenly the Draenei was up, holding his hair in one hand and pressing the small dagger against his throat with the other.
"WHAT. ARE. YOU. DOING." The Draenei said, her voice back in that same low, dangerous tone.
For the first time, true, genuine fear flooded through Zackel's body. He was trying to help a lunatic. He'd survived the ogres just to get killed by an act of altruism.
"…cold?" Zackel half-whispered, half-begged.
The Draenei held her harsh expression for another second, before a surge of emotions washed across her features. Zackel could almost swear that she recoiled when she took the knife away. He quickly reared back, falling onto his butt as he scrambled away.
The Draenei looked at the fur, and then the knife. The light of the fires and the brazier gave her skin a slight shimmering effect, which Zackel noticed more due to his high-alert state than anything else.
"…I'm sorry." The Draenei said, putting the knife down. "You didn't deserve that…you didn't deserve any of my crap. I just…" The Draenei said, sighing. "It's been a very bad day."
"No fooling." Zackel said.
"No, wait." The Draenei said, looking up. "Please don't retreat into bitter sarcasm. We have to stand each other's company for a time, I'd rather not spend it at each other's throats."
"…okay, who are you, and what did you do with the other Draenei?" Zackel blurted out. He closed his eyes with a wince as the softness that had come over the Draenei's face vanished, the familiar acerbity returning.
"Have trouble controlling your tongue, don't you human."
"Some have said that." Zackel said, opening his eyes. "My turn. Sorry. You're right."
"Come here." The Draenei said, gesturing with a hand. Zackel pushed himself up, semi-crawling back over to the Draenei as she checked the blanket she'd given him before turning her gaze back in his direction.
"I'm Rielle." The Draenei said, offering her hand.
"…Zackel Wintersoul." Zackel said, taking Rielle's hand. She had a surprisingly soft grip. "My friends call me Kel."
"Nice to meet you…Zack." The Draenei said with a mildly cold and wry expression.
"This is for my last comment, isn't it."
"Mmmm-hmmmm." Rielle said, removing her hand as she gathered up her blankets again. "Get some sleep. Tomorrow you're going to use those fancy mage powers to clean out those stairwells. Then you're going to go out on the roof and make sure it doesn't get so weighed down with snow that it doesn't collapse on our heads. And while you're up there, you can try and stop this damn blizzard. Yes, you said you can't. You're still going to TRY. And then maybe we'll do some other work. I'm not sitting on my rear end counting the cracks in the wall while we're housed here."
"Right…" Zackel said, getting up and heading to his own bedding. "Joy."
"Don't make me wake you up at the crack of dawn, Zack."
"How would you even TELL?"
"I'm good at these sorts of things."
"Why do I suspect that anything that makes my life difficult you'll be good at?" Zackel murmured to himself, shrugging off his robe before he climbed into bed.
"I heard that."
"Oh damn it I thought those were horns, not ears."