"I'm not sure which will annoy me more," Triadae groaned as she pulled off her gloves, rubbing sore fingers for a few moments before she knelt and began to unlace the rough leather boots she had been given. "Being asked for the hundredth time on if water is wet by some silly little device, or having to listen to them for the thousandth time." There was no clarification on who she was speaking about, the other two with her seeming to catch her meaning well enough.
She stood and kicked a boot across the heated stone, her hand pushing back sodden hair. Around them, the sounds of coupling echoed louder than that of the training that others near them had taken up. Two and a half months had passed since they had managed to sneak in amongst the Twilight ranks, and it had been only two of those months that they had needed to endure the rampant rutting that went on around them. The first two weeks were only a blissful memory at this point. Only a few things had gone wrong in those first few weeks, but even that was much less than Triadae had expected.
What she hadn't expected was being completely stripped of her weaponry. She had not been the only one, and Bruzju had made it more than clear beneath his breath exactly how he felt handing over all of his hidden blades and toxins. Her own broadsword had been taken and placed away where she had not been able to find it, and Gandret's enormous axes had vanished as well. They had been given nothing else, except the promise that they would have them back, should they prove themselves worthy.
Bruzju reclined against a wall, the flickering reds and oranges from the molten rock around them sending his features into sharp relief. The one weapon they'd been unable to take from him were his tusks, and he had proven himself quite capable of using them if he needed to. While he had been reprimanded for killing his gnomish opponent, there had been some measure of pride that their trainer had lavished upon the seven foot tall troll. "'Ey, dey coul' be doin' much worse den breedin', mon."
"I agree with her, friend." The rock shook beneath them as Gandret lowered himself to the stone with a grunt. "This is not a time for such things. Not when the earth beneath us heaves with such pain." He plucked at his purple gloves, blowing a snort that made his nose-ring jingle faintly. "We've gotten less from our surroundings since they moved us all into these caverns."
None of them had expected to remain in the open, not with the attacks that had become more frequent. Twice, they had woken to find a tent aflame, and had been quick in learning exactly how to douse a fire and then shelter themselves where they could not be found. Nothing could be done when the poison was unleashed, though. That had led their superiors to place them into caverns carved into the rocks around them, hidden and placed in such a manner that one would have to get close to aim inside of one to harm any of those inside. Too close.
The five of them shared a smaller cavern with at least ten others. From the first day, Kalthor and Leybright had chosen a cove that kept others from spying in on them, but unfortunately did nothing to stop the noises that came at all hours. Triadae had remained with the other two on a platform near the back of the caves, one that required a bit of climbing to get to, and had enough room for the three of them to rest comfortably. Sometimes, a gentle breeze slipped in from some unseen place, and cooled them. It was for that reason that Bruzju remained close to the wall, where the current seemed to hug the stone as it passed.
"Maybe they do something else away from the rest of us." With a sigh, she pushed the other boot off with her foot and flopped back against the wall beside the troll. "Maybe they do nothing at all." Her lips turned in a frown.
They had no answer for her, but they could not be expected to answer her all the time. So they sat in silence, until the last moan finally died from around them. It wasn't as if they could think clearly with all of the noise anyway, and while Triadae would have loved to be bitter towards them for their apparent fun, she'd be lying if she didn't admit she wasn't blind to the actions of those in the cave around them.
"Joo be t'inkin' too 'ard on dis, mon." Bruzju's head tilted, and she felt the tip of one of his thick tusks on her temple as he spoke. It was the only way she could understand him when he dropped his voice low as he tended to do, and her eyes dropped half-mast as Gandret shuffled closer and pulled her foot into his lap. It was a ruse they adopted often when they desired to speak, and more than once she had seen someone begin to approach only to think better of it. Usually when Gandret's skilled fingers pressed into a particularly sensitive spot.
Triadae flinched as the shaman found one of those spots, her fist curling into her thigh as she remained still enough to let him rub it out. She knew well enough how she sounded, how the release of pain could sound almost euphoric, and yet she had stopped fighting the treatment and just allowed them both to lead her into the illusion as best they could.
"Eidah ya trus' dem, or joo don't. Dere's no middah groun' dere, pretteh. We don' be knowin' what dey be doin', but if the one be you frien', and you trust 'im..." Bruzju shrugged lightly, and she moved with him. The beads in his hair that held the braids together clicked against each other and were hard against her skin, a brutal difference to the gentle tone that his voice carried. "Gan an' I, we follow joo. If dat means we be makin' enemies outta de ones who be our frien's, den dat be da way de spirits deem it. No worry, pretty. All be fine, Bruzju promise dis."
Despite his promises, her heart had run cold. Triadae had accepted the changes that had gone over with a good deal of grace and dignity. Leybright's snide remarks had become little more than the prattle of someone who was easily ignored, and she couldn't recall the last time looking at Kalthor actually hurt her more than reassured her. Now it did nothing but give her the bitter fear that she had been forced to swallow. The distance between he and Triadae had grown by leaps and bounds, so much so that she couldn't tell even herself what was the truth anymore.
"I don't trust either of them." She felt Gandret's fingers stop pressing into the arch of her foot, showing his surprise more than the impassive gaze he had turned on her. "No matter what they are doing, there's been too little contact between us all to keep them in the loop. We will have to continue on without them, and hope they know what they are doing better than we do." Now the troll had shifted his seating, half his body turned towards her while his broad hand slipped between them both to keep him braced.
"We've seen all that we are able from the outside. We know what they are doing in these camps; training the recruits that they will be sending elsewhere. We know that they've allied themselves with the ogres under Cho'gall, and we know that Cho'gall has himself holed up in the Highlands. If we were able to, I'd say that we should leave as soon as we could and get just that much information to those who could use it." She squirmed in her seating, propping her other foot on Gandret's thigh. "I don't think we have everything, though. We're missing something, but I believe I know where to find it.
They have documents that are passed back and forth between the camps and the various superiors. I've heard mention of even word from Deepholm being brought in those pages. If we can get our hands on those, we can be out of here before we know it. The dragons are waiting, I can see them flying during the day."
"When do you propose we try this? The ogres are constantly patrolling. We'd never get a clean attempt with all of us as busy as they've been keeping us." Gandret set her foot aside to grasp the other one, quickly sending his commander into a fit of muffled, pain-laced moans.
"Ah - … Tomoro-ow!" She tried to take her foot from him, only to found it caught tightly and his eyes focused not on her, but to the side and further in the cavern. Her breath left her in a whimper that sounded more like a plea as she caught the bright flash of fel-fire green eyes and watched Kalthor leave his cove and stride past the three of them in solemn silence. Her gaze left him, and she felt nothing more than grim determination flood her when she spoke again. "Tomorrow. Whoever can get those documents, do it. Don't get caught, either."
They did not speak much longer that night, and Triadae was already alone when she woke the next morning, Gandret's cloak pulled over her in an act that was more ruse and kindness than actual need. Already, she was sweating enough to make her leather armor stick to her skin in an uncomfortable manner, and her hair had joined in the battle, prickling at the sweat-slicked flesh and making her itch. Running a hand through her hair did little more than make her realize that she needed to wash the moment she got the chance, feeling the oil that caked the strands.
Once she was redressed, she climbed down from where they had slept and made her way out into the sunlight. It was not as late as she had believed, the sun still low on the horizon from where it must have risen only three hours past. The hazy smoke that always lingered in the Gorge made it difficult to see when one had just woken up, but by the time she had made it to the long row of tables where she would find the rubbish they considered food, the smoke no longer bothered her.
So the morning passed, and she made her way from food to training, and then to the long lectures that detailed the plans that the Twilight had formulated, and the long hour of worship towards their masters. It was on the path to yet another round of training that she spotted the courier in the throng of acolytes and trainees. The human man, really no more than a boy by even his own race's standards, pulled a handful of messages from a bag at his side and dropped them on a table surrounded by guards before darting off again.
She lost him in the swell of people, and damned herself for it. Now that he was out of sight, he was quickly losing shape in her mind. Was he a blonde, or did he have brown hair. His skin... it looked ruddy, but it might have been fair. Her fists closed at her sides as she pondered her predicament, and then everything seemed to be answered in one moment. A bell rang, and the hulking ogres who guarded the table began to move off hastily. She cast an eager gaze around, already moving to the cluster of tables, and her fingers grazed along the contents of one. Instantly, she assumed the same actions as those who were frequently seen at the tables, the alchemists and earth-binders who summoned the elementals to bind them for teaching.
No one watched her while she bent over the research that others had done, and no one seemed to mind that she was drawing closer and closer to the only thing that mattered in the back of her mind. She couldn't believe how easy it had been until she was actually looking at the missives themselves, daring to break the seals after only a moment of thought and scour them quickly for what she wanted. The first and second warranted nothing more than a quick glance, things she already knew without needing the pages, but the third... her eyes went wide as she read, and she was nearly to the end when she heard the scream.
"Spy!"
Her focus shattered, though her actions could only be seen as groggy as her eyes peeled slowly from the page to alight on Leybright, who stood in her robes of purple and black with a finger pointed directly at her. For a moment, Triadae thought she was only seeing things, and then the ground began to shake beneath her as those who had been called away from the table were now returning – in force.
"Spy in the camp! She's after the plans!"
Leybright's voice was answered by a thunderous roar of other voices rising to take up the cry, and as one crazed cultist lunged at her, she dropped everything and bolted for the only clear path she could find. Around her, tents went up in flame as she passed them, and she could still hear the screeching cry of the priestess alerting the others. She turned abruptly, in time to feel the heat of an explosion take the table that she had just been next to, as well as the group of trainees who had been gathered there. Their dying screams joined the roar that threatened to crash down around her, and yet she knew that if she could only run fast enough...
Then something gripped at her ankle and she fell, heard the snap of something that rocked her body and sent her blood cold, and then the blinding white fire of pain. The ground came up to meet her, and she hit it hard, losing her breath in one cry. Blood welled in her mouth, she felt the sting of opened skin on her cheek, and realized that she had bitten her tongue in her fall. A single jerk of her leg proved that she was not only caught, but that she would not be moving easily again. She dared not look down, not even as her arms were caught up and pulled behind her in the meaty hand of one of the ogres.
"Bring her! You, you were with her that day. The rest of you, here now!"
Pain was already blinding her, and she stifled a grunt of it behind her bloody lip as she was forced to her knees in front of a night elven woman in black armor, her silver hair tied back to show the pale blue skin that was covered elsewhere. Her eyes narrowed on Triadae, the thick-soled boot she wore slipping beneath the Sin'dorei's chin to force their eyes to meet. "Ah, yes. I do remember you. There aren't any with your cut of hair, nor that pretty color. Alas, it's a shame you're little more than the rabble beneath my boot."
The boot went up her cheek until the heel was atop her head, and Triadae blinked back tears as her face was forced to the ground. The snap of her nose was audible in the air, but she dared not let a single cry escape her. "Brave little thing. You four," the woman crooked a finger at those who had accompanied Triadae into the camp two and a half months ago, "you joined with her. Are we to deem you traitors as well?"
Triadae didn't need to see to know that the four stood with faces like stone. She never heard Leybright or Kalthor speak, but both Bruzju and Gandret declined their involvement in her scheme. "She stumbled into our camp along the road in Winterspring, Priestess. We'd never seen her before that. Had we known she would prove to be a spy, we would have killed her that night."
"Indeed." Triadae's fingers dug into the dirt as the woman's heel pressed down more firmly, and then released her. One moment she saw nothing more than the ground, the next she was staring at the sky with her hair twisted into the woman's hand and cold steel against her neck. She dared not breathe, and her eyes turned on her friends and pleaded with them to betray nothing. They held her gaze, and the flicker of understanding in even the depths of Kalthor's cold stare eased her.
"Normally, we would make an example of you by just killing you. Horribly, of course. I tire of those quick deaths, however. Such a pretty little thing... I want to hear you scream. Unfortunately, I don't have the time to do so on my own." The blade moved from her throat and slipped behind, and then she was released in one clean cut. "Take this." The woman held out the long tail of hair that Triadae had kept, "Get her sword from the stores, as well. Send both of them to her people. I wish to make this message perfectly clear to those who would stand against the master."
The woman's fingers grasped tightly in Triadae's cropped hair, dragging her to her feet. She grinned wickedly at her yelp of discomfort as her broken ankle was jogged about. "Oh, I'll get that tended for you. I like to have my victims quite pain-free before I start on them. It does good not to have distractions. Take her to the cages and leave her until morning. You, felcaster..." Kalthor looked to the silver haired woman. "You've done quite well in getting information from those we've captured. I want you to spend however long it takes getting everything you can from her. You'll be watched, I assure you... prove your loyalty with her screams. Should she die before you extract anything... I'll make certain your pretty bedmate is the next one you work on."
An ogre grabbed her again, and she felt the fingers of the woman leave her hair as the brute pulled her off in the direction of the cages. Once the woman was out of her sight, once Leybright's eyes could no longer be seen, and she could not feel the guilt that washed off the troll and tauren in waves, Triadae let herself succumb to the pain, and the blissful unconciousness that came with it.