Arrentai
We had only a few weeks of peace in the end. Just time enough for us to get used to being a family. Taliesa had accepted Lizabetha as her new mother and for the most part she seemed happy. She never talked about Nerissina although I tried to encourage her to do so because we didn't want her to forget her mother. In the end Lizabetha suggested I just wait until she was ready to talk.
"Give her time," she said. "At the moment she's hurting because Nerissina rejected her. She's still too young to understand why. In time she'll realise that her mother still loves her and was trying to protect her."
I hoped she was right. The complications of my family troubled me.
The first we knew in Darnassus of the escalating hostilities was when a messenger arrived from Northwatch Hold. I was down at Rut'theran village; I'd just flown in with a fresh load of skins for my leatherworking and was walking up the hill to the portal when I heard someone call my name. I stopped and turned; it was the flight master Vesprystus.
"Can you hang around a minute; I think we may need you."
He pointed out to sea; a solitary hippogryph was approaching from the mainland, flying far lower over the waves than was safe. Its wing beats were slow and erratic and it looked as if it was struggling to stay aloft. Vesprystus sent his hippogryphs out to escort it, but there was little they could do save rescue the rider if he fell.
I set my bundle down and stood beside him, watching. The exhausted beast reached shore at last, coming in low, barely missing a collision with the arches of the pier. It made a valiant effort to land near us, but at the last it misjudged its approach, hit the ground heavily and tumbled over and over, throwing off its rider. Vesprystus ran to the hippogryph, I ran to the rider.
He lay unmoving where he had fallen and for a moment I thought he was unconscious. His clothes, the livery of Northwatch's garrison, were filthy, torn, stained with blood. I gently touched his shoulder and his eyes flickered open and met mine.
"Northwatch has fallen to the Horde," he gasped. "They're moving on Theramore."
I looked up at the harbourmaster as he approached. From his shocked expression he'd obviously heard.
"You get up to Darnassus, to the temple, and tell them," I said. "I'll see what I can do for him."
Without a word he continued up the hill and disappeared through the portal. I turned my attention back to the messenger. He was fortunate; his injuries were minor and easily tended; but he was exhausted. I called a nearby villager to me and between us we helped the man to his feet and aided him to walk uphill to the portal. He needed rest and food; but he would also need to make a fuller report of what he had told us.
Cordressa Briarbow, a sentinel from the Temple of Elune, was waiting when we stepped out of the portal in Darnassus. She dismissed the villager with a word of thanks, but did not try to do the same with me. She knew that as a healer I would not leave the man until I was satisfied with his care. We took him to the nearest inn and settled him in a quiet room. While I set about tending his injuries Cordressa questioned him, so I heard all he said.
The Horde had advanced on Northwatch by sea and by land from Mulgore and Durotar; and attacked the fortress. They'd destroyed the buildings and slaughtered the garrison, leaving scarcely anyone alive. Just a handful had survived, including the messengers that had been sent out to bear the news. Now the Horde were amassing ready to attack the island of Theramore. The man had flown direct across Kalimdor and up the coast stopping only to change his mount when each exhausted beast had been unable to continue. He himself had not rested nor stopped to eat.
When she'd heard all he had to say Cordressa warned me to keep my mouth shut, then she hurried off, presumably to report to Tyrande Whisperwind.
I told him to rest; then left him. I asked the innkeeper to ensure he was left in peace for as long as he needed to rest; then given food when he awoke. I headed back to the portal; I'd left my bundle of skins down at the flight point and needed to fetch them.
Vesprystus was still busy tending the exhausted hippogryph and ignored me. I wandered a little way down the road and for a few moments stood gazing thoughtfully out to sea. When Lizabetha and I had returned to Darnassus it had taken us weeks to ride from Desolace to Darkshore. The messenger had flown from Northwatch Hold, across the Barrens and Stonetalon Mountains and up the coast of Ashenvale and Darkshore in a matter of days; and all the time needing to avoid any Horde settlements and patrols along the way. No wonder he was exhausted.
I turned and collected my bundle before heading back into the city. It was near dusk when I reached home. Lizabetha made a brief comment about how late I was but didn't ask why for which I was grateful. I didn't know how I'd be able to tell her about Northwatch. I was distracted, deep in thought. If the Horde had been preparing to attack Theramore when the messenger left, had they already done so? It was a heavily fortified place I knew; but then so had Northwatch been and that had fallen. It took so long for news to reach us that it could be over before we heard anything. I slept little that night, and at first light I headed back to the inn where we'd left the messenger. I wanted to check that he was recovering.
I met Cordressa at the door and one look at her face told me she'd received bad news. We went in and, early as it was, I bought a bottle of wine and guided her to a quiet corner table. She downed the glass I poured her and looked at me. Everything the messenger had said last night had been confirmed; Northwatch had fallen with almost total loss of the garrison, and a massive army of Horde of every race was gathering round Theramore on land and sea, but hadn't as yet attacked. They were waiting for something, but what? So far the outposts of Fort Triumph, Forward Command and Honor's Stand hadn't been attacked, but how long would they be left untouched? Varian Wrynn had called for the Alliance to join together in the defence of Theramore and a fleet was amassing ready to sail.
"The sentinels have been ordered to join the fleet heading for Theramore," she told me. "Our general, Shandris Feathermoon is going to lead them. I only hope they get there in time."
"Is it that bad?" I asked.
"Yes. The Horde wants to push us out of Kalimdor. If they take Theramore all the other Alliance settlements are at risk. They'll be able to pick them off one by one. Then Teldrassil itself will be at risk. We have to stop them."
She poured a second glass of wine and sat staring into it.
"All we can do here is wait for news and be prepared to defend ourselves."
After some moments she drank the wine and stood up.
"Keep an eye on the messenger. Make sure he's all right. I have to organise our defences in case the worst happens."
She walked out, leaving me to finish my drink and see to my patient. After a few minutes I went up to his room. As I entered he was just waking. For a moment he looked confused; then he remembered what had happened. He sat up and attempted to get up but sank back wearily.
"Rest, friend," I told him. "Your news has been passed on. You don't need to do more."
I told him what Cordressa had told me. I figured he at least had a right to know. He listened in silence.
"I should go back," he said quietly. "They'll need every man they can get to defend Theramore."
"You need to recover your strength first," I told him. "You'd be no use as you are now. Rest and let your injuries heal; then maybe we can arrange to get you there. I've done what healing I can but you still need time."
He nodded, realising the truth of what I said. I understood how he felt; I was no fighter, but I felt I should volunteer to go as a healer. The one thing stopping me was my family; I'd spent so much time away from Taliesa in the last few months that I really didn't want to leave her again.
I left the messenger, Marriss, to rest and headed back home. Lizabetha was waiting for me; she had realised something was up and she wanted to know what.
"All the sentinels have been gathering at the Warrior's terrace since first light," she told me.
"Do you know what's going on? Is it something to do with that messenger that arrived yesterday, the one you've been looking after?"
I stared at her in amazed silence for some moments; how on earth had she found that out? I'd followed Cordressa's orders and said nothing.
"I have a friend who works at that inn near the portal. She told me about it."
I sat down and looked up at her.
"Everyone will know soon enough," I said slowly, "but you'd best not talk about it yet. The messenger came from Northwatch. It's fallen to the Horde and they're heading for Theramore next. Some of our sentinels are going to join the Alliance fleet to defend Theramore; the others are going to make sure Teldrassil is protected."
"Oh, Arrentai," she murmured. "Has it come to that? Does Hellscream mean to bring the world to all-out war?"
"I'm afraid he does. He wants Kalimdor for the Horde and he'll stop at nothing to get it."
I wouldn't voice my worst fear; that the Horde wanted to wipe the Alliance off the face of the whole world; yet it was there at the back of my mind.
"You want to go, don't you?"
I nodded. "I feel I should. I can help as a healer."
"I can't stop you, I know. But, Arrentai, please don't go to Theramore. It's too dangerous. Go to one of the outposts; help from there."
"If that's what you want; I'll speak to Cordressa. She'll know where would be best to go."
I drew her close and kissed her.
"Thank you for understanding," I said softly.
"I'm coming with you," she said suddenly.
"What? No! You need to stay here with Taliesa."
"Arrentai, you need someone to watch out for you while you're working. I can do that. Taliesa will be fine with Amalie."
I shrugged. I knew I'd never win an argument with Lizabetha when she'd made her mind up. Together, while Taliesa was at her lessons, we went to speak to Cordressa. By then she'd briefed the sentinels and they were busy making their preparations. She agreed with Lizabetha that we'd be more use at one of the outposts so that casualties could be treated away from the centre of battle. Forward Command would be the best place, she said; it was away from the battle or any routes the Horde were likely to use so would be a safe place to treat casualties before they were sent further away.
We went home to make our preparations and within half a day we were on our way. We travelled by hippogryphs following much the same route that Marriss had taken in his flight from Northwatch. With us we carried as many medical supplies as the hippogryphs could carry and just one bag of essentials each for ourselves. Stopping to change mounts when we needed at flight points along the way we made good time and reached there in a little over a week.
We were welcomed by the man in charge, Ambassador Gaines. There was no military commander. General Hawthorne, we were told, had been captured and killed by the indigenous quilboar some months ago and had not yet been replaced. Forward Command was basically a military encampment, not a permanent settlement. As a result they had little in the way of medical facilities and only a single healer. We were introduced to him; a trooper named Matthews who'd had a little medical training. He showed us around the camp and explained how things were done; then he told us what tent we could use and left us to get settled. There was little for us to do other than ensure our supplies were ready for use; we'd be kept busy enough once casualties started arriving.
Within twenty-four hours the first reports of conflicts came in. The Horde, crossing the Barrens from their fortress of Desolation Hold, attacked Fort Triumph on their way to Theramore. They were ruthless, slaughtering most of the garrison, abandoning the few survivors to the mercies of weather and wildlife. Those few were brought to us by the aerial patrollers who had escaped the massacre simply because they were out on patrol at the time. Matthews and I treated them the best we could before they were then transported to a safer place at Honor's Stand near the border with Stonetalon Mountains. Lizabetha had little healing skill but she kept us supplied with her herbal potions.
We had a temporary respite but knew there would be worse to come. Theramore was a much larger place than Fort Triumph with a correspondingly larger population including civilians and children. It was well fortified and situated on an island; but the Horde had demonstrated their determination and I had no doubt that they could wreak havoc.
Refugees and casualties from the settlements that dotted Dustwallow Marsh trickled in telling tales of the Horde's atrocities. But none came from Theramore itself. Jaina Proudmoore had ordered the gates to be sealed and the fortress was prepared for a siege. The patrollers reported that the Alliance fleet had arrived to take on the Horde ships. Ambassador Gaines ordered them to continue observing, not to join in the battle. They would be better use as couriers, observers, transport. He sent them out to gather any sentries, patrollers or stray civilians still to be found in the Barrens; they'd be safer all gathered together.
The walls of Theramore proved strong enough to hold the Horde back and we thought maybe they had given up when they retreated; we were wrong. The patrols reported that groups of sentinels and warriors had left Theramore, heading into the marsh, seeming to be searching for something. While they were gone a Horde airship had flown in over the fortress carrying beneath it a massive bomb.
We felt the detonation as far as Forward Command, shaking the ground and stampeding the wildlife. In the sky over Theramore a huge cloud of dust and fel energy hung menacingly. The patrollers couldn't get close to see what had happened; their hippogryphs refused to go near. We knew then that there would be no casualties from Theramore for us to treat; there was no longer any Theramore. All those people that had made it a community were no more.
The sentinels and warriors who had left before the explosion eventually found their way to us before going on their way back to Teldrassil and Dalaran. Lizabetha and I stayed; even now I felt I might be of some use. The Horde outposts throughout the Barrens were a serious threat to what was left of the Alliance here.
A force from Desolation Hold attacked us and we fought them off, but many of our soldiers were injured. I went out from the camp to help, going from one to another, giving initial healing to stabilise them before they were moved to safety. There were a few orc casualties as well and I aided them too although I knew it would earn me censure from the officers at the camp. But I couldn't leave a wounded man, be he human or orc, to suffer untended.
Intent on my work I never noticed the solitary orc watching from a clump of trees until he shot me. The bullet tore into my left shoulder, the same that Maelinastra had shot, hitting the bone and shattering it. I turned, intending to head back to the camp; but I stumbled and fell. Unable to break my fall I landed on the injured shoulder and lay semi-conscious beside the man I'd been tending.
Vaguely, as if in a dream, I was aware of an orc mounted on a massive grey wolf riding up, grabbing me from the ground and draping me across the beast before riding off. I had no idea where he was taking me or why. Eventually he stopped and I was dropped painfully to the ground. I looked around as best I could; I was in some kind of structure with high surrounding walls, but open to the sky; probably Desolation Hold I guessed. Then I was surrounded by several heavily armoured orcs. Voicing what sounded like abuse in their harsh native orcish one of them kicked me viciously several times, encouraged by his companions. It only ended when a female voice snapped out an order. With an angry snarl my tormentor stopped and stepped back. I heard arguing between the two of them then I passed out.
I awoke in a cell. I was in agony; it felt as though several of my ribs were broken making it hard to breathe easily. There was no way I could do anything about it; healing would expend more energy than I could summon at that moment and would leave me too weak. Surrounded as I was by stone I couldn't feel the connection to nature that would allow me to draw on the strength I needed. I took a breath and began to cough, feeling consciousness slipping away. I heard a sound nearby and made the effort to open my eyes again. An orc sat nearby watching me, a white haired female. As I began to focus clearly I realised that I knew her, Nerolie Trueblade, mother of the young orc I'd healed in Stonetalon and returned to her people. She couldn't know me though; she'd only seen me as human, now I was worgen. If I tried to shift I'd lose the extra strength that this form gave me and I couldn't afford that.
"If you're going to kill me, get it over with," I whispered painfully.
"We may let you live, worgen," she replied, "if you prove to be useful. We want information. You can give it to us."
"I know nothing. I'm just a healer."
"Then you are no use."
"I guess not." I wasn't going to beg for my life, though that's what she clearly expected. I closed my eyes and ignored her, trying to find just enough strength to simply ease my pain a little. It didn't work. I heard her move; felt her place her hand on my chest, felt the warmth as she used healing on me, just enough to reduce the pain.
"When you tell us something useful I will heal you a little more," she said.
"I don't know anything. We heard that Hellscream was preparing to attack Theramore and we volunteered to come here as healers. But I haven't been near Theramore. I was at Forward Command."
"The camp near the Great Divide?"
"Yes."
She waved a hand dismissively.
"They're of no consequence, no threat to us. But you; a healer; they will miss you. You heal our enemies so they can fight again."
"That's my job; yours too, shaman."
"So, you know what I am; you know that I could heal you or just as easily turn my power against you, stop your heart just like that."
She snapped her fingers.
I closed my eyes; I was growing weaker and struggling to stay conscious.
"Who came with you?" she asked abruptly. "You said we. Another healer?"
"No. My wife; she's a herbalist; makes our medicines."
"You're what? Druid? Priest? What is she?"
"Warlock," I barely managed to whisper as I lost consciousness.
She was there again when I awoke and had I think done some more healing on me. My chest was less painful; it no longer felt as though my ribs were digging into my lungs every time I took a breath. My shoulder felt a little easier, the bullet was gone, but it would take time for the shattered bone to knit.
"Thank you," I whispered.
"I'd have done that sooner if you'd told me who you were."
"Oh?"
"You were in Stonetalon earlier this year. A worgen druid travelling with a human warlock. My daughter recognised you. You could have let your woman kill my daughter and no one would have known. Yet you stopped her; made her see reason; and healed my daughter. For that I am grateful."
"I had no quarrel with her; she was an innocent child; not one of the war party that killed Lizabetha's family. She understood that when I explained it. She was hurting because all her family had been killed, even her children. She wanted revenge."
"I understand that. My mate died in battle before Cristelle was born; at Blackrock Spire. I too wanted to kill those I held responsible. He was a great warrior and a good mate; even with the blood curse on him. I've never found another to equal him. You are fortunate that you still have your woman. Do you have any children?"
"I have a daughter, but Lizabetha is not her mother. She too died in battle; against the Scourge."
Nerolie nodded thoughtfully, understanding what I did not say; then changed the subject.
"I've been told that you healed some of our soldiers who were injured when they attacked your camp."
"They needed help," I said. "I'll heal anyone who needs it no matter what race, friend or foe."
She grinned, baring a mouthful of razor sharp teeth.
"That must get you into trouble sometimes. I've never before healed an enemy; but then I've also never harmed one; until now. I've discussed you with my commander and told him you have no useful information."
"So now he wants me killed; and you to do it."
"Yes."
"Get it over with then."
"I'm not going to kill you. I owe you a life and I at least have honour when it comes to paying a debt. I will return you to your woman."
"How will you do that?"
"Leave that to me. Just keep quiet and go along with what I do. If he learns what I intend he'll kill us both; and I'm not ready to die yet."
"Thank you."
"Consider my debt to you paid. If I meet you again after this you will be just another enemy and I will kill you."
I nodded. She arose and walked to the door, speaking to someone outside before coming back to my side.
"Come then."
Without further warning she hauled me to my feet by my injured arm and dragged me out of the cell. Dizzy from the pain and dazzled by bright sunlight I made no effort to struggle. She stopped in the middle of the enclosure and pushed me up against a post. I knew she had to make it believable but she didn't have to look as if she was enjoying it so much. There were several orcs hanging around. She called out something in her own language and some of them laughed.
"Keep still," she hissed under her breath as she drew a long lethal looking knife.
"Orc scum," I spat at her and she laughed. Pressing the point against my chest she thrust suddenly. I felt it penetrate, barely missing my heart and lung. She'd aimed well. With a gasp of pain I collapsed forward against her feeling my body go numb, unable to move. She must have smeared the blade with a paralysing drug I realised; Cristelle had trained as a rogue I'd guessed, she could have got it from her. I heard her voice call out again as darkness overwhelmed me.
I roused a little to find myself slung face down over a swiftly running wolf in front of the rider.
"Not a sound," Nerolie whispered. "They're watching us."
I clenched my teeth to keep from crying out in pain as each movement sent fresh agony through my shattered shoulder.
At last Nerolie pulled the wolf to a halt.
"Alliance!" she called out in common tongue. "I've brought your healer back to you. Let this be a warning to you. We will not tolerate your presence here! The Barrens are ours."
She lowered her voice. "Good fortune, worgen. I'm going to drop you now. Don't make a sound or we'll both die."
She let me slip to the ground, breaking my fall as much as she dared. Then after a moment or two she rode away. I hoped her deceit had worked and she didn't get into trouble for sparing me. I'd decided I quite liked her; for an orc she was very human.
Unable to move, I lay there feeling the warm sun on my body, drawing strength from the life around me. At last I could ease my pain; soon maybe I could speed up my healing.
I heard someone approaching and I felt them lift me up and carry me back to the camp. I was laid on a bed and heard voices talking nearby; one was Lizabetha.
"How could they do this?" I heard her ask. "He wasn't even armed. They knew he was a healer, you heard that damned orc, so why kill him?"
"I don't know, lass." That voice bore the rich accents of a dwarf. "It's difficult to understand a race as alien as orcs."
"He would heal an orc as readily as a man. That's what he was like; he cared for everyone."
Silently I cursed my inability to move or speak. It hurt to hear her grief and be unable to take it away.
"Look at him, lass. Someone has worked healing on him. His broken bones have begun to knit together. Someone cared enough to do that."
"Then why kill him?"
I felt her gentle hand touching me.
"He still feels so warm."
"You go and rest, lass. Let me deal with him for you."
"I'm taking him back to Darnassus. I don't want him buried here so far from home."
With a sudden shock I realised the very real possibility that if the paralysing drug didn't soon wear off I could end up being buried alive. Had Nerolie used too much; accustomed more to using healing potions than poisons had she over-estimated the amount she would need to render me incapable of movement.
I heard the dwarf return to my side, his footsteps firm and measured.
"I may be totally wrong, my friend," he said softly, "which is why I have said nothing to your lovely wife, but I do not believe you are dead."
He laid his hands upon me and I felt the warmth of his healing power, the surge of Light that went through my body counteracting the poison and helping my bones knit further. A paladin I knew then, only a paladin could use the Light in that way. Silently I gave thanks and willingly allowed myself the healing oblivion of natural sleep. As I slept my body mended and my strength returned.
When I awoke I was alone. My pain was gone and I felt a sense of wellbeing. Cautiously I tried to move, first my fingers and toes, then I stretched out my arms and legs and took a deep breath. I could move; I was no longer paralysed by the drug. There was one final thing to try; I shifted, becoming human again. Slowly I sat up, shivering in the chill as the blanket that had been covering me fell away. I was almost naked; my torn and bloodstained clothes lay on a box nearby.
I was considering what to do when I heard voices approaching. The door flap was lifted and a dwarf looked in. Black of hair and beard and rosy- faced, his bright plate armour was somewhat battle-tarnished. Upon seeing me he smiled, then turned to look behind him and issued an order in his own language. He stepped inside and set down the bundle he was carrying.
"I'm right pleased to see you looking so well, lad. And heartily glad that I was right."
"How did you know?" I asked.
"Lucky guess! Seriously though; you didn't feel dead to me. Although the poison in your body had slowed down everything almost to the point of death I could still detect the faintest flicker of life there. It's a principle of mine never to give up until there is absolutely no hope."
"I'm very grateful for that," I told him. "I could hear everything that was said, and I didn't much fancy being buried alive."
"No I dare say you wouldn't."
"Does Lizabetha know?"
"Not yet. I didn't want to raise her hopes until I knew you would recover. She'll know soon. I asked my servant to fetch her; along with some food for you. I expect you're hungry after all this time."
I nodded. "I could do with some new clothes as well. Mine aren't wearable now."
"Already sorted, lad. Those should fit you." He indicated the bundle he'd brought with him. I pulled it towards me and unfolded the clothes; they were similar to what I usually wore, in the colours of the army's uniform. I'd just finished dressing when another dwarf entered the tent carrying a plate of food and a mug.
"This is the best cook could find at short notice," he said. "I'd have brought some beer but he said it wouldn't be good for the patient. Imagine!"
I thanked him. The mug held fresh cold water; thirsty as I was it was as refreshing as the best beer. I ate hungrily, watched by the paladin whose name I still didn't know. I paused in my eating and looked at him. "I owe you my life," I said, "and I still don't know your name."
"I'm Aralen Barleyleaf of the Argent Crusade."
I'd almost finished eating when I heard Lizabetha's voice nearby calling out to the dwarf.
"I'm in here, lass," he called. "Come along in."
"Your servant said you wanted to see me," she said as she walked in. Then she saw me and stopped. The look on her face was once of utter disbelief.
"Arrentai!"
She flung herself into my arms and burst into tears.
"You were dead," she whispered.
"Not quite. Master Aralen realised that and healed me."
"But how?"
I sat her beside me and told her everything that had happened to me. Aralen listened as well.
"An orc with a sense of honour. You don't find many of those," he commented.
"A mother who was grateful for her child's life. Arrentai, if you hadn't stopped me from killing her, you'd be dead now."
"But I'm not dead, thanks to Master Aralen. It's over now so don't worry about it anymore."
"You should both go home," the dwarf suggested.
Lizabetha nodded but I said, "No. We can still be of use. I'm going to Stormwind to find out where I can be most useful."
"Don't you think you've done enough," Lizabetha pleaded but I was adamant.
"So long as the Horde are a threat to the Alliance I have to help."
"He's right, lass. Nowhere is safe. But how will you get there? The Horde fleets are blockading all our harbours. Our ships can't sail."
"If I can get to Ratchet I can sail to Booty Bay then fly up to Stormwind," I said. "Are those ports still neutral?"
"Aye, they are."
"Good, then that's the way I'll go." I looked at Lizabetha. "Will you come with me or return to Darnassus?"
"I'll come. But what about Taliesa?"
"As you pointed out before she's safest in Darnassus for now. She'll stay there."
After taking another day or two to recover my strength I was ready to go. Aralen Barleyleaf arranged for some of the patrollers to fly us to Ratchet; and announced that he was coming with us.
We set off at first light, hoping to avoid notice by any Horde observers. Nonetheless I made sure I was in human form; for Nerolie's sake I didn't want them knowing that the worgen they thought was dead was still alive.
We approached the port cautiously. The goblins of the Steamwheedle Cartel prided themselves on their neutrality but there still might be Horde forces there. Luck was with us, we bought passage on the first ship to sail after we arrived and were soon on our way to Booty Bay. The length of the journey gave my injuries time to heal and by the time we arrived I was more or less recovered and ready for whatever the future held.