Undeath Beckons

Chapter 15 – Orgrimmar

LOADING…

FETCHING CHARACTER DATA…

CHARACTER SELECTED: SPECTRESS

ENTERING WORLD…

She used to be so beautiful. I still remember her blonde hair… the way it shimmered in the sunlight like spun gold, hanging about her cute little ears. Oh, her ears. She always wore those silver studs we picked out together. Her eyes were blue back then, blue like the moon over Draenor. I fell asleep staring into them more than once. And that peach pink skin, so soft and smooth. Also but a memory. A reminiscence. Her cheeks, her laugh, her voice, her smile… all gone.

Now she was this, this thing, this undead monster, and although I knew it was her, knew Cassandri was still in there somewhere, I couldn't bring myself to even contemplate what it might mean if she came back. Because the walking corpse that she'd become was nothing like the old Cassandri, nothing. Just bits and pieces of her left. I stared holes into her back. I could see her shoulder bones.

I'd only been on this planet eight months and a Seeker with the Kirin Tor for just six, but I knew a few things about global politics. The Forsaken—the group to which "Dystressi" now belonged—weren't exactly popular. They seemed only interested in serving themselves, and even though they'd found allies in the Horde, it was mostly a partnership of convenience rather than mutual trust or respect. Thankfully, it appeared Dystressi hadn't yet chosen to side with them. Given the nature of our current quest, I found it unlikely she'd suddenly take an interest in their political agenda.

But where did that leave me? Outcast from my home, on the run from my now-former employer, about to venture deep into the territory of my race's ancestral enemies, and for what? Was I part of this "Defenders of Time" business? Dystressi hadn't said anything about anyone but Blightfire. So was that it, then? Save the Warlock, save the world, but do it alone Cassandri! Do it alone, just like you tried to do when you went after your sister in the Plaguelands!

I felt my anger rising again. Deep breaths, Spectress. Calm down.

Time to take this from a different angle. Of course I didn't have much of a place in her life. It'd been almost two months since we separated. And did I even want a part of her heart to call my own? Was I still interested in that? I didn't know. Watching her from behind as she sat idly on her turtle, her spine poking out through her skin and armor, made me feel… lost. More lost than I'd ever felt as my people searched for a home. More lost than when we were forced to leave Draenor, and crashed here. More lost than when I awoke from stasis in a foreign land, with the wounded and dying all around me.

Those times all had a purpose. They were all leading up to our arrival on Azeroth and our partnership with the noble races of this planet. But this? I could see no purpose in this. No connection between the heartbreak and the deadly fate now playing out before me. Cassandri meant something to me. What did Dystressi mean?

"We nea'ly dere now!" Katyaa called, rousing me from my musings. "Almost time ta dismount 'n say farewell ta our turtle friends!"

About time, I thought wearily. We'd been riding these turtles for almost a day now, and I was getting sore. My tail didn't like being scrunched up for so long. Poor tail. Suddenly I shivered with recalled pleasure, as the memory of what I'd done with that tail danced through my mind. Not so poor tail after all. Cass had really liked it when I slid—

"Doing okay back there?" Dystressi called over her shoulder in my native language, Draenei. I still hadn't gotten used to that, either. She pronounced all the words with a funny accent, like she'd forgotten how to make consonant sounds.

"I'm fine," I answered. "Glad to be getting back on dry land."

"Me too," she told me, smiling. Noticing my odd expression, she inquired, "What's on your mind?"

"Oh, nothing," I lied. "Just remembering something."

"Huh." Satisfied, she turned around again, leaving me to think about our journey by myself.

Our trip north from Tanaris had been uneventful, but given the action we'd seen preceding it, I was glad for a rest. We'd coasted gently along in the glistening waters, our turtle companions more than happy to ferry us but not exactly the swiftest creatures, even amidst the seas. Thousand Needles was the first place we'd cruised past, but looking at it proved less interesting than I'd expected: nothing but a high cliff wall all the way up. Thousand Needles indeed… I was hoping for something like Blade's Edge. Dustwallow Marsh was next, and although that locale was a bit more eye-catching, we still hadn't seen much beyond some plants and the occasional Murloc. Even the sky was boring. So to pass the time we'd talked. I understood most of Katyaa's utterances, although she often used expressions I didn't know. Dystressi had no trouble translating, however.

I told them about Draenor, and the way things were. How we'd once been a nomadic people, drifting from planet to planet. They were both awestruck when I explained that Draenei are essentially immortal, thanks to the effects of our Naaru benefactors. I failed to include the fact that those Draenei who chose to turn from the Light lived only a few hundred years at most. Perhaps best not to call attention to weakness when among "enemies".

Katyaa and Dystressi shared stories of their past as well. Katyaa was apparently a rather high-ranking member of the Horde, and highly revered among her Troll kin. The spells I'd seen her perform, then, were no fluke. I wondered if all the Trolls were as unintelligible as her. Dystressi told us about her experiences in Tirisfal, and shared some speculation about David Trias, her mentor. He sounded like quite a character.

After a time, our throats began to grow dry, and we gave up talking in favor of sightseeing. Our third scenic view was of the Barrens, a dusty series of rolling hills and grasslands. We passed a coastal town Katyaa called Ratchet; I spied a number of Goblins there going about various commerce-related tasks. But before we could get a good look we were already gone, swimming northwest.

Now we passed red stone hills in endless succession. The land here appeared scorched by the sun. Durotar, Katyaa called it. I knew that name—Durotan was one of the Orcish clan leaders back on Draenor, during the war. I thought it strange that anyone would build their capitol here in this desolate place, and asked our guide about it.

"De Orcs be landin' here when dey came from da Eastern Kingdums. I was wit 'em, cuz we Darkspears be from islands in da South Seas. Dey founded de city here cuz dis place be special to dem, mon!" Katyaa explained.

Orcs. That's right. I wasn't looking forward to seeing Orcs again. The last time I saw an Orc, he was swinging a battleaxe at my head. But Katyaa assured me that the Orcs of the New Horde were nothing like their savage forefathers. The blood curse given unto them by the Burning Legion had been lifted, she claimed. Dystressi appeared utterly confused, so I clarified that bit of history: the Orcs of Draenor were tricked by the demons of the Legion. They drank of the blood of a powerful demon named Mannoroth, and became unstoppable killing machines. Their brief time in Azeroth only served to solidify their reputation as merciless warriors. But Katyaa said Mannoroth was dead! I'd heard rumor of this. Dalaran was ripe with similar rumblings, however; one day someone will tell me Mannoroth is dead, and then next I'll be hearing that a giant lava dragon sleeps beneath the land, waiting for the right time to burst out. Nothing but hearsay!

We finally landed on the rusty shores of Durotar, in a small, isolated cove. Katyaa communed briefly with our turtles, who she said were glad to have been of help. We waved as they plodded back into the ocean, headed out into the deep waters. Good luck turtles. It's been fun.

"Spectress," Dystressi said. "You're a member of the Alliance, aren't you?"

"Technically," I answered. "But I work for the Kirin Tor. My allegiance to them takes priority over any other affiliations." I made sure to emphasize any. Dystressi noticed, and for a split second I saw her wince. I cringed inwardly. "Why do you ask?"

"Well, it occurred to me that you might not be very welcome in the Orcs' capitol city," she replied testily. "I just thought we might want to consider it."

"Da be good tinkin', mon." Katyaa stepped forward, drawing a cloak from her pack. "If ya be wearin' dis, ya should be fine." She handed it to me. I draped the cloak around myself and drew the hood, then adjusted my Kirin Tor tabard to show through the opening.

"This should be okay. I'm clearly marked as a someone from Dalaran," I explained.

"Which is exactly what we don't want, remember?" Dystressi grumbled. "Last time I checked, everyone in that city was trying to track us down."

"There won't be any Kirin Tor in Orgrimmar," I snapped back. "I'm sure of it. They just don't go there. Most of the mages are Human, Elf, or Gnome. They've little love for the Horde." The sun bore down on us with unrelenting fury.

"Ya be speakin' da truth," Katyaa interjected. "We should get in dere as soon as we can. I sent word ahead ta my partna ta meet us." Without saying more, she started west, her bare feet leaving tracks in the red dust.

I shot Dystressi a slight scowl. "Let's go."

Dystressi returned the grimace, but said nothing. We followed Katyaa for perhaps half an hour, dispatching wayward scorpions and boars that dared assault us. My attitude toward Dystressi both satisfied and anguished me. Why was I being so short with her? Didn't I want her to know I cared? Did I care?

At last we approached a towering gate. Two Orc guards stood at attention near the tunnel entrance. They stepped out to block our path.

"Who wishes to enter Orgrimmar?" one of the Orcs—a female with brilliant green skin and long black hair—asked in an even tone.

"It be Katyaa of Sen'jin, and dese are my compan'yuns," Katyaa explained, gesturing.

Dystressi stepped forward. "Dystressi of the Forsaken." She bowed.

Now it was my turn. I kept my hood tight over my horns as I stood my ground. "Spectress the Seeker, of the Kirin Tor." The golden eye on my tabard stared out at them. They looked me up and down suspiciously, and I held my breath. At first it seemed they thought I was also a Troll, but then their eyes moved lower, below the reach of the cloak… to my feet. My hooves.

The Orcs looked at each other. "A Draenei…" the female growled.

"She's neutral," the other—a towering male with a thick red beard—snarled back. "She has every right to enter." His companion didn't seem convinced. She was glaring at me with fury in her eyes.

"I'll be keepin' an eye on her," Katyaa assured them.

The Orcs locked eyes again, and it seemed as though a battle of wills was occurring. Finally the woman relented and stepped aside. Her partner did likewise.

Civility among Orcs? Things had changed.

We passed into a tunnel of carved stones and wooden beams. The red dust on our boots tracked for a ways on the metal floors. My hooves clomped loudly, and I felt a bit self-conscious. Damn cloven feet! They were a dead giveaway.

Then suddenly we rounded a bend, and there, rising high in the blinding sun before us, was the city.

Orgrimmar.

I'd only heard of this place, the Orcs' capitol, but now seeing it with my own eyes… I knew why many feared the might of the Horde. Towering cliffs formed the walls of this city built of stone and wood and spikes. Every building had blades protruding from it, like spines on sea urchins, as if something were threatening to land on every rooftop. The central gate opened into a wide, dusty plaza, where dozens of Orcs, Blood Elves, Forsaken, Trolls, and Tauren hustled about, conducting their business and kicking up a massive dust cloud. I saw rows of homes and shops stretching along the length of this valley, heading back into a darker area beyond. The Valley of Strength, they call this space. I could see why, now: huge mountains of timber, steel, and other materials were piled here, awaiting shipment to other parts of the city via zeppelins tethered overhead. I noticed shade, and realized there were hide tarps stretched between towering kodo horns across the edges of the cliff face above.

"C'mon," Dystressi whispered, tugging my long sleeve. "She's gonna leave us behind." Katyaa was already a few paces ahead and about to disappear into the swarm of riders and city goers. Dys and I scurried to catch up.

"Have you ever seen such a place?" I asked my undead companion as we hurried after our guide.

"Nope. But since I can only remember Deathknell, the Violet Hold, and a whole bunch of desert, well… not exactly stiff competition." She winked one of her glowing eye orbs at me.

I shivered. Cass used to wink like that. No, Cass still winks like that. Because Cass isn't gone! She can't be! "Dystressi," I said softly. Time to play my hand. "Do you remember—"

"C'mon!" Dystressi interrupted, not hearing me. "Hurry!" We dashed after Katyaa, dodging mounted adventurers, merchant carts, and a dozen other incoming obstructions. Tailing Katyaa through the city was a difficult task. More than once I had to Blink to avoid being run over—Dystressi gasped the first time I teleported, but afterward she began to enjoy watching me do it.

How did anyone get anything done in this madhouse? I watched in awe as members of the Horde races scurried about, popping in and out of buildings, talking with vendors, and deftly avoiding one another in the road. Shouts in Orcish filled the air as merchants hawked their wares and adventurers offered their services. Oddly enough, now and then I'd see the same strange characters ride by me once, and twice, and thrice, and on and on. Could it be that they were riding in circles, as if killing time? Surely they had better things to be doing?

After ten or fifteen minutes of frantic scurrying, we found ourselves entering a new district of the city. The Valley of Wisdom, Katyaa called it. She led us to a large building and ducked inside.

"Dis be a favorite tavern 'a mine. And dis…" She gestured at another Troll sitting nearby. "Dis be my partna, Llwellyn."

"Katyaa!" Llwellyn called. He was a towering Troll with deep blue skin and massive tusks. A tuft of blue hair stuck straight up from his head. His armor and weapons crackled with elemental energy—another Shaman, like Katyaa. "So good ta see ya babe." They embraced and kissed. How they managed it, though, is still a mystery, for I couldn't see how their tusks could possibly get far enough out of the way to allow their lips to meet.

Dystressi and I took an offered seat at Llwellyn's table, as did Katyaa. "Who'd ya bring wit ya?" he asked. I caught something odd in his tone. Unease? Mistrust? Or… sadness?

"Dese two saved me in Un'Goro. I repaid da favor by bringin' dem ta Orgrimmar. Dis is Dystressi and Spectress, a Forsaken and a Draenei."

"Ple'ja ta meetcha," Llwellyn said with a grin. "Nev'a met a Draenei befo. Well, not a live one, eny'way." He chuckled.

I smiled awkwardly, my thoughts elsewhere. Dystressi appeared excited. She asked him a question in Darkspear, which drew a very curious look from both Trolls. "Um, what I mean is," she stuttered in Orcish, "you're a shaman too, right?" She looked embarrassed. Careful Dys. Don't go flashing gold unless you want it stolen.

Llwellyn raised his drink to his mouth slowly. "Ya…" He gave Katyaa a look. "Kinda scrawny fo' a Darkspea, ain'tcha?"

"It's a long story," Katyaa muttered back, followed by a few words in Darkspear. We all sat in silence for half a minute or so. I felt uncomfortable, and took this opportunity to look around the bar. Dystressi, Katyaa, and Llwellyn started chatting, but I was lost in thought, and didn't hear them.

Lots of Orcs in here… no Draenei though, nor any other Alliance races. I began to feel a bit vulnerable. Major cities are good places to hide if you look like everyone else, but any Kirin Tor agents in the area would be able to spot the lone Draenei out of the crowd. Good thing Cassandri is undead now. Oh, Cass…

Cass, my beautiful blonde. My light in the strange, foreign darkness of Azeroth. I'd met her only two weeks after starting my work with the Kirin Tor. She was a mercenary then—a hired sword that delved into deep places to find or eliminate important targets. One of the many hands on the long arms of the mages, stretching far across the land. She'd winked at me from across the bar in A Hero's Welcome, and I was hooked.

Our courtship was sudden and strong, like an onrushing tidal wave. We walked among the gardens in the afternoon sun. We dined at the finest eateries in Runeweaver Square. We made love under the midnight sky on a balcony overlooking the Violet Citadel. She was young and fresh and wild, with a deep, unrelenting passion for life and its pleasures. But she worshipped the Light, too, and let it guide her actions. She was perfect. We were perfect.

Until Kaelana arrived.

I shook my head, noticing how distant I was being. Better get back to reality.

"…so whad'ja want ta tell me?" Katyaa was asking.

Llwellyn looked grave indeed. Bad news? "Ya ain't gon like it. Maybe we shuld talk somewhere more private-like?"

"Dese friends 'a mine can be trusted," Katyaa answered, giving us a smile. "You can say it in front'a'dem."

The male Troll coughed gently, as if clearing his throat. He opened his mouth to speak, then shut it. Reached into his pack. Extracted a crumpled letter. "Dis came fo' ya while you were away." His eyes said the rest.

Katyaa's smile dropped, and she reached out with an unsteady hand. Took the missive. Opened it. Read it. Tears began to well in the sides of her eyes, but she was quick to blink them away. "I see," she whispered.

I watched Dystressi carefully to see how she'd react to the situation. Was there still something of Cassandri's sympathetic heart left inside that rotting shell?

"I'm sorry ta bring ya bad news," Llwellyn said, reaching out and placing his arm around Katyaa. She shifted into his embrace.

"What happened?" Dystressi asked, concern in her voice.

"It's my brudda, Zuzljin," Katyaa explained. "He's dead."

"Oh. I… I'm so sorry." Dys's glowing eye orbs grew a bit dimmer. "I'm very sorry to hear that."

Phew. "My deepest sympathies," I added, patting Katyaa on the shoulder. "How did it happen?"

"He was on a mission in Desolace, home a' da centaurs," Katyaa explained in a low voice. "He was out dere wit a Blood Elf warrior named Hapenny—dey were s'posed ta find a path inta da centaur fortress. But…" and here she dropped off, unable to continue.

Llwellyn took over: "Da tird memba of da group, a Tauren named Cloudbreaker, managed ta escape, and sent dis letter ta let us know wha'd happened."

"How awful," I replied.

Katyaa looked pained. Clearly she was suffering, but she didn't want to show us her vulnerability. Perhaps sensing her control slipping away, she stood and announced, "We got ta go speak ta Vol'jin. I must report about my mission."

Dystressi, Llwellyn, and I rose. "Okay," Dys said.

"Will you two be okay on ya own?" Katyaa asked kindly. Oh. So we weren't invited.

I nodded cordially. "Sure. Thank you again for bringing us here."

"Don menchan it." She gave us a firm Trollish salute—her right fist pounded against her chest and then raised vertically. We mimicked it back to her. "Stay outta trouble. Until our paths cross again, farewell."

With that, she departed, taking Llwellyn with her and leaving us standing in the bar. Orcish eyes gleamed at us in the half darkness.

"Well," I said after a moment. "Now what?"

Dystressi turned to look at me. There was a mischievous smirk creeping up her cheek. Oh Gods. Cass used to smile like that. I felt my stomach twist.

She winked at me. "We go exploring."

Our next hour was quite productive. We first navigated our way to the bank, which fascinated Dystressi. She'd apparently forgotten that it existed. The Goblin banker laughed at her shocked expression as I explained how the system worked.

"You mean I can get stuff from anywhere?" she gaped.

"Just about," I answered.

"Wicked..." Turning to the Goblin, she asked, "Can I get into my account?"

"Only if you've got the password." He spun the magical ledger toward her and offered the pen. "Scribble it here and we're in business."

Dystressi stared at the page, as if commanding it to reveal its secrets. Then, much to my surprise, she wrote something in the ledger. "Back in a moment," she said, and disappeared into the doorway to her vault.

How did she have a bank account? Was it from when she was... but then what if the Heart were in there? Would she recognize it? Would she bring it out in the open? My eyes swept the bank rapidly. Pretty quiet, but that didn't guarantee anything. I readied a few spells, feeling the lines of magic converge and twist around my body. A thin rime of frost coalesced over my fingertips.

I waited, my body tense.

At last she emerged, still smiling. She was wearing a Kirin Tor tabard and carrying a beautiful one-handed short sword with a blue and gold motif.

"There you are," I chided, relieved to see her. "What did you find?"

"Not much," she replied quickly. "Except these things. I thought they might come in handy."

"Maybe so, but you should stow your tabard for now. It is foolishness for both of us to be so conspicuous."

She nodded and stuffed it in her bag. "I did find one other thing," she said quietly, extracting a coin purse from her pack. She shook it, and I heard a familiar ring. "There's enough gold here to buy us something nice," Dystressi said with a cool smile.

We navigated our way to the auction house. Running on a system similar to the bank, it was surprisingly tidy, with well-dressed Goblins standing atop platforms and hawking other people's wares. Dozens of Horde adventurers stood shoulder-to-shoulder, each trying to shout over the others. Dystressi sidled up to a Goblin.

"What're ya buyin'?" the Goblin asked her in a squeaky voice.

"What're ya sellin'?" Dys answered.

"I got whatcha need."

I rolled my eyes. Merchants: a constant truth on any plant in any galaxy. I'd seen more than my share of hucksters and salesbeings while out among the stars. The Goblins of this world reminded me most of the Ethereals, beings of light and energy who feed on Nether vapor. They live and work entirely amidst their vast "Consortiums", which are a bit like companies and a bit like families. Recently, the races of this world had made contact with them in Outland. I had no doubt that back-room deals between Goblin and Ethereal moguls were taking place at this very moment.

"-nything?" Dystressi repeated, nudging me. She was smiling kindly.

"Huh? Oh, no thank you," I managed to reply.

"You sure? My treat." She jingled her gold coins. "Got plenty of gil here."

"Save it for a rainy day," I said coolly.

"Suit yourself." She paid the Goblin, accepted an unmarked parcel, and took my arm, leading me back out into the red dust and bright sunshine. "I'm parched," Dys informed me. "Drink?"

I forced a smile. "Sounds lovely." Why was I feeling so hostile all of a sudden? Was it because I remembered shopping trips just like this one from when Cass was alive? That was surely it. Keep yourself under control, Spec. She doesn't know. Don't tell her. Or do? I struggled to decide, and was still agonizing over it as we took our seats in a nearby tavern. It was growing to be late afternoon now.

"So the Heart of K'ure," Dystressi began, after sipping her ale, "is this powerful artifact that can cure the Scourge plague. Just once though."

I looked around nervously. Should we be talking about this here? "Uh huh."

"I stole it five weeks ago when I left to look for my sister in the Plaguelands. Between then and now, I managed to get myself killed, resurrected, and captured."

"That is correct." I continued looking around the bar. Who was that Orc? Why was that Troll staring at us? What were those Blood Elves doing walking our way?

"Do you think I just wanted to heal my sister, because I assumed she'd been plagued?" Her tone was excited.

I sighed. "No."

Dys looked stunned. "What? Why not?"

"Because you didn't know the Heart could do that."

She stared at me. Apparently she thought she had it all figured out. "So why did I take it?"

"I already told you," I murmured. "You were protecting it."

"From who? From what?"

I opened my mouth to reply, but shrieked instead. The Blood Elves I'd seen earlier had pulled back their cloaks, revealing shining purple and gold tabards beneath. They drew steel. The bar reacted immediately: patrons either dove for cover or pulled their weapons, creating an awful din of humming metal. Apparently brawls were not uncommon here. Well, they were about to witness one on a whole different level.

"Dystressi!" I cried, readying a frost nova. "Get down!" She threw herself under the table as I unleashed a wall of ice. The three Elves froze in place, chips of blue crumbling off of their rigid flesh and armor. Several nearby pints of beer froze solid.

One of the Elves shook off the ice crystals and leapt toward me, sword high. I parried with my staff. Clang! The crash of the steel made my hands shake. The other two Elves began to move again, and the one assaulting me spun for another strike. Kerching! Dystressi was there to catch the blade on her sword. She deftly slid her dagger around, disarming the Elf and then going in for a deadly thrust. But the Elf lashed out with a fist, stunning Dystressi.

The other two Elves were advancing quickly. Think Spectress, think! I conjured two balls of ice from the air and flung them at the Elves, but they shrugged them off easily. The patrons in the bar were grinning now. Apparently some of them wouldn't mind seeing my blood on the floor. I guess old hatreds never really die.

Just then a deafening howl shook the room. From nowhere, a massive gray wolf leapt atop one of the Elves, ripping into her and sending a jet of blood skyward. Some of the bar patrons shrieked. I stared in wonder and surprise. What was happening?

"Swarie! Kill!" a deep Orcish voice called. The wolf let out a ferocious growl and tore the Elf's throat open. The other two turned to face the beast… and felt the sting of bullets rattle their armor. The Orc was blasting away, stopping to reload for what seemed like fractions of a second before unleashing the next barrage. The Elves, seeing that they were now outnumbered and—literally—outgunned, retreated into a back corridor and disappeared.

I helped Dystressi up from the floor where she'd fallen. "Thanks," she said gratefully. Her hand was cold, but maybe that was just from my frost magic.

"You two," the Orc said. He walked over and stood before us. The wolf hurried up to his side. He extracted a small cut of meat from a pouch on his belt and fed it to the beast, which gobbled it noisily. "Who are you?"

I took quick stock of the Orc. His skin was brilliant green, meaning he or his parents must've drunk deep from the demonic blood that had corrupted the Orcish race. He kept his deep purple hair in a sharp mohawk, and had a three-pronged tuft of a beard. His body was mostly muscle, and his skin seemed weathered beyond its years, as though he'd spent most of his life outdoors. Which, given his apparent skill in the arts of the hunter, might've been the case. He wore a mixture of mail and leather, all of it as battered as he was. The gun he'd used earlier was holstered on his back. Looking closer, I noticed something unsettling: the wolf at his side was undead. Patches of its skin were missing, and one eye was just a hollow void with a tiny white light glowing inside.

"I'm Dystressi," my Forsaken companion said. She performed a quick salute.

I was reluctant to trust, but since he'd just saved our lives, I felt like I owed him the chance to prove himself honorable. "Spectress," I answered. "Seeker of the Kirin Tor."

The Orc's eyes darted back and forth between us. After what felt like an eternity, he opened his mouth and grunted, "You ought to be more careful." Tch. As if we'd been doing something obviously reckless. "You're an easy target here."

"Thank you for the advice," I said coolly. "What's your name, stranger?"

"Lokregar."

Dystressi went stiff. "Lok…regar…" she repeated slowly. Her thin face twisted a little. "Huh."

"Nice to meet you Lokregar." I said. Patrons of the bar who'd been scared off by the combat were starting to return to their seats. I noticed a few Blood Elves at a nearby table talking excitedly to one another, casting bitter looks our way. Racial solidarity, perhaps.

"We should go," Lokregar suggested. He'd seen them too. "Before you draw even more attention." He started moving toward the door.

Dystressi followed, but I called, "I'll be right there." Crouching quickly, I rifled through the possessions of the lifeless Blood Elf on the floor beside me. Hm… yes! I extracted a small set of scrolls. These should tell me what she was after and who'd sent her. Not that I needed a paper to tell me that; it was kind of obvious. But it'd be good to know for sure. I also swiped her signet ring. With a little luck I could counter the tracking enchantment on it and create a sensor that would alert us when Kirin Tor agents were nearby.

Lokregar led us through twists and turns in the dusty city's alleys, bringing us at last to a tiny inn, hidden away in a nook. The sun was just beginning to dip down past the cliff edges above us, casting long shadows. "You'll be safe here for the night. Best get inside."

"Wait, what? That's it?" I asked, shocked. "You rescue us, lead us to a safehouse, and then disappear?"

The Orc looked at me blankly. "Yeah, pretty much. That a problem?"

Dystressi was also eyeing me. I felt indignant. "Who are you anyway?" I demanded.

"It's not of your concern," Lokregar said. "I'll be keeping an eye out for you." Without another word, he turned and stalked away, the wolf Swarie keeping close to his heel.

I stood there slack-jawed. "What… just happened?"

"I think we fell upon the good graces of a kind stranger," Dystressi commented. "Best not to dwell on it. C'mon." We made our way inside. The place was run by a kindly Tauren, who seemed to have no problem whatsoever with putting up a Draenei. Dystressi and I enjoyed a few more drinks before heading upstairs. There were only single rooms, so we rented two for the night.

I spent an hour or so modifying the signet ring. It wasn't all that difficult, but the incantations took time and energy. In the end, I was successful: the ring would now begin to give off a magical signal that I could sense whenever Kirin Tor agents were within a hundred yards or so. I also read the scrolls, and they confirmed my suspicions: orders from Kaelana—now Archmage—to return our heads to Dalaran. No mention of a reward or taking us alive, which meant we were facing Kaelana's most loyal soldiers… and they'd not be showing mercy. As I finished reading, Dystressi joined me in my room to chat for a bit.

"So what's our plan?" she asked, taking a seat on the bed. She'd changed out of her armor and into a simple tunic and shorts. I could see her nipples through the thin fabric. I tried not to look. "We made it to Orgrimmar. How do we get to the Eastern Kingdoms?"

"We'll have to take a zeppelin tomorrow."

"A zeppelin… that sounds familiar. What is it?"

"Like a giant balloon with a rudder and rooms hanging below. It's a Goblin thing."

"Okay. That will take us to Undercity?"

"Aye."

"And then we find Blightfire."

"Sure." I began changing for bed, a little self-consciously. I mean, she'd seen me naked before, but…

"Great, because I really want to figure out what the hell is going—"

"Hey, listen," I interrupted. "I need to ask you something. Earlier, when we met that Orc…you made a face."

"Oh. Yeah, I guess I… I kind of remembered him."

I raised my eyebrows. "Oh?" If she could remember one person… could she remember me too? Did I dare to hope?

"Yeah, well… yeah. It was just for a split second, but I felt like I'd heard that name before. Like I knew that face, but… the feeling was negative. Like I was scared of him."

"Huh." I'd taken off my tunic, but left my black bra on. Cass had loved this bra. I sat down on the bed beside Dystressi. She was looking forlorn. "Do… do you remember anyone else?" I put a hand on hers. I could feel my heart beating like a drum in my chest. Touching her cold skin made me shiver, but the shape of her hand was familiar, and I felt myself flushing purple.

Her orbs rose to look at my face. "Spectress," she said quietly. "Is… uh… is there something you haven't told me? Something about my past that you know?"

I flushed even deeper now, and hesitated. If I told her, what would she do? What would she say? Could my heart take it if she rebuffed me? "I… uh…" I mumbled.

Dystressi took my hand in both of hers. "Because I remember you."

My heart skipped a beat. "What?"

"A little. I remember that I knew you. The feelings… they're positive. I don't remember why, or how, but I know I can trust you." She smiled. "And I do trust you. We've been through enough now that I'd trust you even without the positive memories."

I smiled back. I knew what to say now. "Then that's all you need to know. What happened before isn't important. It's over, and we've got to stay focused on the future." This answer seemed to satisfy her, and she let my hand go. I rose and continued getting changed. I slipped out of my armored pants and donned a more comfortable pair of shorts for sleeping.

"By the way," Dystressi called, reclining on my bed, "and I don't know if this is just the ale talking, but you have a seriously fine rack, And that ass… damn girl." She grinned wickedly at me.

"Your compliments are appreciated," I said, trying not to smile like an idiot. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'd like to go to bed."

"'kay. See you in the morning."

"Mmhmm." I watched her butt as she left, thinking about what Cassandri's rack and ass had looked like. Damn, girl.

My tail was put to good use that night. Cass would've been proud.

And wet.

We got an early start the next morning. The platform for the zeppelin was located outside the city, so we navigated our way back through the front gates without incident and reached the launching pad. It was a tall wooden tower, and the zeppelins cruised up alongside it every hour or so. There were so many passengers wanting to go across the sea that the Goblins could afford a huge fleet of ships to ferry customers at all times of day and night. Buying tickets took a fair chunk of Dystressi's gold, but she didn't seem to mind. In fact, by chatting up the cute little Goblin honey at the counter—in the Goblin language—my friend was able to secure a small discount. Being omnilingual had plenty of perks.

We boarded the zeppelin and were shown to our cabin. The flight, we were told, would take four days. Makers, but if I could use portal magic… four days? Oh well. The quarters were spacious and comfortable, all things considered, and while we'd mostly just see ocean below, at least we'd have some time to talk and relax after our rather harrowing journey to Orgrimmar. Perhaps I'd finally work up the nerve to tell Dystressi about our history.

But did I want to?

Kaelana Starfury's arrival within the ranks of the Kirin Tor was more or less what led to the end of our relationship. If Kaelana hadn't sent me away to find the Heart in the first place… if Cassandri's sister hadn't disappeared… maybe things would've turned out differently. But when I came back from the expedition, Cass had changed. She was obsessed with protecting her sister. Wouldn't listen to reason. She accused me of being too controlling, I accused her of taking me for granted, and… that was it. The time we'd spent apart had driven a wedge between us. Two weeks later, she disappeared to the Plaguelands to find her sister. And she took two hearts with her—the one I'd recovered from Outland… and the one beating in my chest.

But this was a chance to start fresh. Put all that strife behind us. If I could look past the rotting surface… if she could learn to love me again like she did once… maybe we—

"Hey," Dystressi said, jarring me from my musings. "What did you think Lokregar meant when he said he'd 'keep an eye out' for us?"

I shook my head. "I'm not sure." We'd made our way to the upper deck. The zeppelin had just cast off, and we were now floating calmly through the sky, passing over the red dirt of Durotar below. Other passengers were on the deck as well, but not many. Seemed like it'd be a pretty quiet voyage.

"You don't think he was really watching us, do you? Following us?"

"I have no idea."

"Maybe he—wait." She put a hand on my shoulder and gestured toward the bow. "Look over there."

I gazed where she was pointing, at a figure standing near the front of the ship, hair blowing in the breeze. "What? What is it?"

"Look closer! Isn't that…"

I felt a chill run up my spine. "It is."

The Orc was on board.