Ganked V 2.0
Chapter 15 To the North
A quarter after the hour, Bill woke up and left the Inn, prepared to go Tuurem after the fight as instructed. He was not as quiet as Sol, as he was not used to being stealthy, and his creaking bones were not exactly lubricated. Although he wasn't particularly loud, he did alert one person in the Inn of his parting. Lucilin, always a light sleeper, woke up and silently watched Bill as he stalked out to the darkness.
It was as he began to ready his Skeletal Horse, he unraveled the reason for Sol's strange behavior. There was a purpose for this meeting, and it wasn't a duel. He wasn't sure if the woman in question, the human Neiana, had challenged him earnestly, but he instinctively knew that Sol had chosen the time and place specifically to avoid being seen and interrupted. This wasn't going to be a regular duel, indeed! And why had he been instructed to leave Shattrath half an hour after the fight was scheduled to occur? Why to give them time, and to shut him up. Sol probably figured out that if he did not relent and accept Bill's assistance, Bill would have gone to the rest of the team out of concern. His assumption had been correct!
This fit with all the stories he'd read about forbidden love. It reminded of him a certain illicit affair between a King's consort and his favorite Knight. They had chosen to meet in the forest darkness as well, but that ended poorly.
He smiled at himself. If he still thought of it as an experiment, he would have considered it a success. Love had indeed sprouted, but he was no longer as cold as he had been. Sol's feelings had reached out to him, and his frozen, Undead heart had almost thawed. He remembered what it was like to live. And how he had loved! But he would not dwell too much on such things, for he would fall into despair.
So he decided that instead of going exactly half an hour after the fight, that he would linger on a while and let Sol have as much time as he needed with his beloved.
Meanwhile, at the Inn, Lucilin was becoming concerned. At first, she didn't pay too much attention to Bill's wanderings. What did it matter to her if that odd Forsaken were to go off somewhere in the middle of the night? But it wasn't long before she saw that Sol's bedroll beside hers was empty.
She touched the thin mattress, and found it cold. He'd been gone for a while!
This wasn't like him. Then she considered it carefully and changed her mind. No, Sol would certainly go off on his own if he wanted to, but he wouldn't be so foolish as to do it in the middle of the night.
She stood and approached Guntag. The giant green Orc was slouched against the forest green walls of the Scryer's establishment. His head hung on his chest while and his hands were crossed, as he snored loudly. She poked him on the shoulder, hoping to wake him gently.
"Guntag."
He swatted at her hand, as though chasing away a bug."...Gub gub..."
"Guntag!"
He woke up and roared. "What is it, elf woman!"
"Can you locate Sol anywhere? He left an hour ago, at least!"
The Orc sighed with exasperation as he closed his eyes and willed his mind to focus on humanoids. Many small dots suddenly appeared within his field of view. Names hung about those spirits, vaguely shadowing their master. But Sol's spirit was nowhere to be sensed.
"He is not in the area."
"How about Bill? I watched him leave the Inn a few minutes ago."
"Hrm," Guntag murmured. "He is at the stables."
"Then let's search the rest of the city! And if not, we have to go into the woods."
"He'll be back," Guntag murmured.
"How do you know? Maybe he's hurt or dying!"
"Fine...up, GulbGlug. Time to hunt."
The large spider hissed as she sat up on her hind legs and stretched lazily. Meanwhile, Lucilin wondered why Sol was missing and no one seemed to care. GulbGlug noticed her worry stroked her hand with one of her long, green furry legs.
By this time Huron and other mates at the Inn were roused by the noise. A few adventurers were grumbling around them, annoyed at being disturbed.
"What is going on?" the large Shaman demanded.
"Sol is missing," Lucilin explained. "We're going to search for him. He shouldn't be wandering around at night on his own. He should know this! That bastard!"
Huron and Guntag glanced at each other before the Tauren expressed what was in both their minds in Taur-ahe.
"He has gone to be with the human woman, does she not see it?"
"Hrm. Apparently not," Guntag replied in the same language.
"HEY! I can't understand you guys. I don't speak Cow!" Lucilin exclaimed loudly.
A few of the inn's guests had enough, and the insult brought about a certain seething resentment among the Horde that had been bubbling beneath the surface out to the open. How dare these elves, these upstarts, call the great Tauren cows! A few Trolls, Orcs, and Tauren that were in hearing distance suddenly stood up at once and loudly demanded some sort of retribution. The elves, seeing a fellow elf, a female at that, in danger, were alerted and rose up, ready to defend her.
The whole Inn became roused with angry words and threats between the races, screaming obscenities, pushing and shoving. The small Inn was about to explode with violence, and Guntag and Huron were stuck in the middle, torn between loyalty to their race and the friendship with their companion. As they were surrounded with angry faces, a troll spit in Lucilin's direction. She was about to unsheathed her dagger and stab him in the eye, when the Scryer in charge of the Inn quickly intervened. She shoved her way into the throng, and along with some Scryer guards, finally quieted the rabble.
"What is this nonsense?" She demanded after the crowd was controlled. "This is a place of peace. Who started this riot?"
All fingers pointed to the three companions standing in the middle of the room. She glared at them for a second before issuing a single command.
"OUT!"
A few minutes later, Lucilin, Guntag, and Huron were in the Scryer's Terrace, their things littered about their feet. They had been given ten minutes to pack, saddle their mounts, and leave the Terrace. They were not allowed back.
"Do you know how long it has taken me to get reputation with them, Lucilin!?" Guntag roared.
"Well, you didn't have to come with me," she snapped.
"All of this because of that damned elf," Huron grumbled. "And you too, Lucilin. You should know better than to spout off at the mouth with everyone around."
"I meant nothing by it!" she yelled.
"Not everyone knows of your salty tongue," Guntag snapped.
At that moment, Bill was leaving the stable, leading his horse by the bridle, and completely unaware of anything that had happened. When he noticed his belongings scattered on the Terrace, he glanced at his party accusingly.
"Why on earth are my scribe's items all over the floor?" he demanded.
Then he noticed that everyone else's things were similarly piled, with bedrolls scattered flat on the ground and armor in half hazard piles.
"What on earth happened here?" he asked.
Huron was the one to explain, which he did with some relish.
"This elf maid decided to call me a cow. She nearly started a riot, which lead us to be thrown out of the Scryer's Terrace for good."
Bill's empty sockets glared at Lucilin for a second, before he began to gather up his things.
"Well, we may as well gather up our things and go."
It took more than ten minutes for them to pack up everything, saddle their mounts, and leave the Scryer's Terrace, all while the guards watched their every move. While they were preparing to go, Lucilin managed to ask if he knew of Sol's whereabouts. Bill, not feeling generous, decided to lie on Sol's behalf. He explained to her that he had no idea where Sol had gone. As for him, he'd decided to take a stroll along the city since he couldn't sleep, which is why he was up and about.
With nowhere to go and nothing else to do, they left the Scryer's Terrace, entered the Lower City, and then out to Terokkar Forest, in search for their last companion. What made it difficult was that Huron, also not feeling generous after being woken up and kicked out of the Inn, was in no mood to help the elf on their wild goose chase. He stated, quite simply, that Far Sight didn't work very well at night so they would just have to make due with Guntag's humanoid sensing.
An hour later, Lucillin and her rag-tag group of annoyed Hordelings were still searching about Terokkar forest for their wayward elf. He was not to be found at the Cenarion Thicket, the lake, the Barren Hills, or Razorthorn Ridge. They were about to head for Tuurem, when Guntag caught Sol's presence on the road, leaving for Tuurem and heading for Shattrath.
"I found him!"
"Where? How is he?" she asked.
"I don't know. My radar doesn't give me stats you know. Come on. Follow me. He isn't far."
Lucilin sighed as she spurred her horse to follow.
"Fine! Let's go meet him," she grumbled.
"And how do you propose that you explain to him our current predicament?" Bill quipped.
"Oh?"
"Why, yes, you realize that he still has his Flying Mount up at the Scryer's Terrace. None of us is his master. How do you think he'll react to the fact that he can't see it ever again?"
"That's nonsense!" she shot back.
"No it's not," Huron interjected. "They know he's part of the group. If we've been kicked from the Terrace, then so has he. That was a lot of gold you just lost him, Lucilin."
She was startled when someone laughed behind her.
"It's not as though I could fly it about Azeroth anyway. Let them keep it!"
She turned to the voice. It was Sol, who seemed unusually chipper.
"What? When did we catch up to him?"
"As soon as Bill mentioned the lost Flyer," Guntag replied. "Now, I hope you had fun, Sol! Lucilin had us looking all over for you. It was a pain my green posterior!"
"Why Guntag! I thought you were an Orc. Why say posterior when you can spend fewer brain cells simply saying 'butt?'" Sol asked.
Guntag glared at the arrogant elf. "One of these days, Sol. One of these days!...wham...bam...I'll bash you on the head and feed you to the trolls!"
The lighthearted threat was met with a hearty laugh, another indication to Lucilin that something was amiss.
"What were you doing?" Lucilin asked, curiously. "Your armor is torn! Your precious breast-plate is bent!"
Bill, Sol, and Huron glanced around awkwardly, not knowing what to say.
"What was it?" she demanded, becoming suspicious.
"It was a duel," Sol replied after a pause, clearing his throat nervously.
"A duel? At night? What kind of duels are fought in the middle of the night?" she asked incredulously.
"The ones that involve no one else," he replied evenly. "At any rate, we were leaving tomorrow for Azeroth. Northrend is now open and we should make preparations as soon as possible. The first to go will gain the most, so the loss of Scryer's Inn is not as great as it seems."
"We should sleep under the stars tonight, in the Lower Commons" Huron said. "I would not mind it."
"It would be a welcome change after all that stench," Guntag affirmed.
"Well, at least I won't have to return the books I borrowed from the Library," Bill remarked with satisfaction.
A few minutes later, which were spent in merciful silence, Lucilin noticed that Sol slowed his pace and hung back until he lagged behind. Curious, she turned back and found he had stopped and was now looking behind them.
"What are you looking at?" She asked.
"Oh. Nothing...I..."
"He must have noticed the Alliance traveling along this road, twenty yards back," Guntag interrupted.
"Is it an ambush, Guntag?" she asked.
"No, it's only one person so there is no danger."
"Let's kill it then!" Lucilin exclaimed.
"We're tired," Guntag replied.
"Is there anyone else?" Sol asked.
"No, she is the only one traveling in this vicinity, Alliance...or Horde."
Was it her imagination? It seemed the news relived him. Bill gave Sol a knowing glance, but said nothing. Then her hear heart sank as a tinny smile tapered the corner of the elf's lips. That is when she realized what everyone in the group, including Guntag's hairy spider, had known the entire time. What sort of duels are fought in the middle of the night indeed!
Lucilin felt very foolish. Shattered pride hurts more than any broken heart, and at that moment, she was assailed with both feelings. She was utterly rejected now. Whatever hope she had that he would see her as anything but a girl disappeared.
"You're right, Guntag. We have a long way to go tomorrow. I am a little tired myself."
She was a Blood Elf, born and raised. Blood Elf women were not weak, they did not show their emotions, and neither would she.
As they were heading back to Shattrath, Guntag chuckled to himself.
"What kind of duels are fought in the middle of the night, huh. Haha! Sol, you sly dog," he said under his breath.
Before going to bed, as they camped out with the refugees in the Lower Commons, Huron set Sol aside. There was something he needed to discuss with him before they left.
"Sol, I am willing to travel with you to Northrend if you answer my questions to my satisfaction. As you already know, I don't trust you."
"I understand," Sol replied cautiously. "But be quick. In order for us to leave on time, we must be early and refreshed."
"This will not take long," the large Tauren said.
Sol sighed wearily as he laid upon his mat.
"Well, then, ask away."
"You gave Aeman a note, when you were selling him Bloodthistle. What was that note about?"
"Oh, well, Aeman is my cousin, and he heard rumors that certain members of my family that I had thought dead may have fled from Lordaeron, instead of going to Quel'Thalas during the war," he replied.
"I see. So the note contained information that would help with the search?"
"You got it. Apparently my grandchildren were seen with my ex-wife, fleeing south. It makes sense. They were still young. My daughter, Ildri, would not have wanted them to die with her. He is hiring some of the Alliance Farstriders to help with the search, with my money, naturally."
"Hrm," Huron growled. "It is an earnest search, and I wish it well. Although I wonder what could be done if you were to find them. After all, they would be Alliance."
Sol sighed deeply, and regretfully.
"That's true. It would be difficult. But perhaps...I could find a way."
"With the human woman?" Huron asked.
Sol gave the Tauren a sharp glance before replying. "Oh? And did you see that too?"
"Don't be ridiculous. I was asleep. But it does not take a fool to figure it out. We even lengthened the search to keep Lucilin from discovering you. "
"Much appreciated," Sol remarked. "So, will you come with me? You are a most competent Shaman and it would be a pity to lose you."
"Yes. You have some honor, as Guntag said. But, hrm, you must know in your heart that this love with that human woman cannot last. Even if by some measure you are happy, the happiness will not transfer over to your children, who will be born torn in two by race and faction."
Sol's face hardened after the Tauren spoke, and his eyes donned a glossy sheen. There was little they communicated to the keen Shaman.
"Thank you, Huron. I will take what you said into consideration."
With that, Sol closed his eyes and willed himself to sleep. There was much to prepare before their trip, and he could not allow any troubled thoughts hamper his rest.
No one knew when Neiana arrived at Aldor's Rise that night but Cyrus, who stayed up waiting for her. He laid in bed, unable to sleep, as the hour ticked on by. By then, he had surmised the reason for the late duel as well as her return to Sol, but it was only when she entered the dark, silent inn, that he discovered the reason for his troubled heart.
He said nothing as he watched her enter the room, her hair now hung loose around her shoulders. A small smile touched her lips as she quietly rushed to the curtains that were hung around her bedroll. She paused as she went to enter her makeshift room, and then glanced around before drawing the curtain and slipping in. Clutched in her small hand was something that glimmered green in the dim light.
Cyrus turned from her, to his side, as he heard the rustling of her clothes as she began to change to her night-gown. He tried to ignore it, as he tried to ignore the sudden realization of his own feelings. Although it was true that he'd always find her a little attractive, now he knew for certain that he loved her. And the fact that she would never see him as anything but a brother, as she chased around a bad idea, crushed him.
The next morning, they rose early and left for Stormwind. After two weeks of planning and supply gathering, they headed for Northrend. Neiana noticed that Cyrus was a little morose during the trip, but she thought it best to leave him alone.
Instead her eyes were fixed on the North as they traveled on. Her mind locked on the new land, and the promises that came with it. They were warm promises, whispered to her in the sweetest moments. In her hand, she bore the green Malachite Pendant that he returned to her, as the seal of his promise.
She closed her eyes as the ship bobbed as weaved through rolling waves. Sea foam nipped at her cheeks as the wind spurred them on. There in the vast land of snow and frozen earth, they would build their life.
AN: The story is almost at an end! Thanks for the reviews/faves.