So Chapter 2, part 2 is now here!

So this nearly didn't happen. I finally finished this chapter (the longest one I've ever written...so far) and was going over it to check for any mistakes (a handle of which I likely missed, sorry). When I'd worked my way down to the new section it had disappeared. Gone. I will not lie, I fucking panicked. A third of the story just...gone. Figured out that dropbox, despite claiming to have been updated 13 hours before, had lied and had loaded the draft version from approximately two weeks ago. Thankfully I realised within a day of this happening and after finding information about the cache was able to retrieve the proper draft. But man, that was a scary moment there...

Chapter 2: Travelling a Rocky Road

Part 2 of 2

After receiving their modest breakfast rations; an apple and a few salted oat cakes, Drakken and Melaine sat themselves down on the dusty red ground a little ways from where the rest of the troops were breaking their fast. They had barely gotten comfortable when the two found themselves beset by their curious comrades. Sauntering over, the undead rogue and troll shaman sat down opposite their friends. Kar'zhel greeted them with a toothy grin before focusing on his own breakfast. Gavin however pinned them with his intense amber gaze and stared. Waiting... just waiting. Drakken sighed internally, staring forlornly at the food in his large green fists. I thought I would at least be able to eat in peace after already being accosted by Melaine. Seems I was wrong… again. Apparently the theme for today.

"Can I help you gentlemen?" He asked in between bites, as if he didn't already know exactly what they were there for. Gavin took in the forms of the warrior and the mage beside him and rolled his yellow eyes inasmuch as a forsaken could.

"Pff. Don't play dumb Drake. It suits you but I know you better than that." Drakken ignored the insult, knowing better than to take anything the surly rogue said to heart. Just as well since the scraggly haired undead didn't pause to soften his harsh words, continuing on straight to the point. "I want to hear what happened last night. What did he want?" And there we go… The 'he' they were talking about didn't need to be specified; the orcish warrior knew precisely to whom his friend was referring. A sigh slipped passed his lips.

"He happened to overhear me and Bjarnn in the middle of rather delicate discussion. At the time he approached us we had been…" Drakken hesitated before lowering his voice, "Speaking unwell of our current Warchief." Both greyish brows rose at that, incredulity apparent in glowing eyes with, if Drakken wasn't mistaken, a hint of approval.

"That's pretty ballsy." Gavin pointed out, unable to help feeling a begrudging respect. A small worried frown started to crease his forehead before it was wiped away by the undead man's usual put-on expression, his thin lips pulling down at the corners. "What did he have to say about that? Is he going to tattle to Hellscream? Did he threaten you?" Kar'zhel startled at that, his own food forgotten as he stared with wide orange eyes.

"Wha?! Someone's threatenin' da Captain?!" He exclaimed, disbelief in his voice. Drakken shook his head. It would figure that that was when the shaman would tune in. Before he was given a chance to respond Melaine chimed in.

"Blood-Eye Blade." The elven woman supplied with a lopsided shrug. Kar'zhel's jaw fell open and everyone could see the alarm in every tense muscle.

"No… Well yes, technically it was Blood-Eye Blade but that's not what… He wasn't threatening us." Drakken sighed, struggling to dissolve the misunderstanding before things got out of hand. Gavin raised one brow at the olive skinned orc, scepticism narrowing his yellow gaze.

"You honestly expect me to believe that Hellscream's attack dog overheard you slagging his master and didn't, has no plans to, do anything about it?" The warrior took a moment to centre his thoughts. He could understand where his companions were coming from, truly he could. Having heard the rumours surrounding the aloof Patrol member he knew their distrust wasn't misplaced. But he had seen hints that suggested differently… hadn't he?

"I know how it sounds," brown eyes hardened when the rogue opened his mouth as if to argue, "No, trust me, I do. But he really didn't." Drakken didn't see how informing his comrades of his own fears, fears that kept him up at night and invaded his dreams, about the crimson eyed elf would be wise at this point. Confusion joined the doubt in the expressions of the group surrounding him.

"Then what did he want?" This time it was Melaine who piped up. Her fel green gaze was curious but there was an intensity there in the way that she looked at the orc, as if staring into his soul. If Drakken was honest, after their confrontation earlier he couldn't say for sure that she wasn't.

"I think… I think he was trying to warn us." A small frown formed, shadowing his face. "He said that we shouldn't be having such a dangerous conversation in such a public setting."

"Yeaaahhh… Sorry but sounds a bit like a threat to me." Gavin said, not sounding apologetic in the slightest. Drakken suppressed a frustrated, uncaptain-like whine.

"Ugh, I'm saying it wrong. It wasn't like that." Light, how could he even begin to explain it? How could he make them understand, show them the conflicting emotions that he had spied dancing in eyes of flame? There was no evidence that he could present to sway his friends' minds. Though that didn't mean that he wouldn't try.

"He was trying to help… I think…" The responding looks were not encouraging. "He claimed he had no intention of reporting it to the Warchief." Melaine bit her lip, worrying it between her teeth.

"But… Honey, can we actually trust him to keep to his word?" Her eyes were wide with concern, softening her porcelain face. "We just don't want to see you get into trouble." Drakken met her worried gaze and held it.

"I think we can. With this at least. You didn't see him last night, he seemed…resigned? I don't know… But Bjarnn and I discussed it after and we both agreed; he was definitely sincere." Gavin shook his head.

"Even so. I'd keep an eye on that one. Man like that… I wouldn't be so sure." I suppose I should be grateful that is all he has to say on the subject. Drakken sighed but couldn't muster the strength to argue further at that time. Words tingled awkwardly on the tip of his tongue. Worries, placations, contemplation, words of condemnation and words of conviction mingled there but he swallowed them, felt their weight fall into his stomach and churn uncomfortably. The orc knew however that there was no use continuing their discussion then. They were seated on the far edge of encampments communal dining area, more than half their troops less than a stone's throw away. And his friends were firmly set in their opinions, struggling with preconceptions and shadows. They had not seen what he had, the vulnerability lurking under that beautiful stoic exterior. He was sure it was real. It has to be… because I don't want to think about what will happen if it's not…

Unwilling to subject himself to further scrutiny and feeling time slipping away from them, Drakken rose wiping crumbs onto the ground, and left to begin packing away their tents and supplies. They had another long day of travel ahead of them, one of just many more.

...

...

The next few days out of Durotar and through the Barrens were strenuous physically, mentally, and emotionally. While there were many men who were content to ignore the Patrol member moving fluidly through their marching ranks, there were just as many who had to kick up a fuss over it. There were those who, like Kilreign, would be fearful and quiet. Despite the silly picture they painted – a bunch of much larger orcs, taurens, and trolls, cowering away from the mere presence of the unusually short statured blood elf, – they were not so annoying as the rowdier men. These men would make loud, unpleasant comments about Blood-Eye Blade as he moved into hearing range, would snigger rudely at some of things others whispered, and generally made nuisances of themselves. The Captain was genuinely surprised that those who had spoken out were still alive to crawl out of their tents every morning. Knowing that emotions were running high and patiences thin, Drakken made the decision to allow the men a half day of freedom in the next town, which was to be the seaside town of Ratchet. He hoped that it would be a soothing balm on the company's simmering tempers. Light only knew they needed it.

Drakken called his troops to a halt on top of the hill that sloped down towards the Goblin run town known as Ratchet. He gazed down at the somewhat ramshackle port and felt a smile tug on his lips as he watched people scurry around. There were strong men lugging crates to and from the ship docked at the end of the pier, people of all races of the Horde haggling with the auctioneers and the merchants, and raucous laughter floating up from the tavern despite the midday sun still hanging high overhead. The olive skinned orc breathed deeply of the salty breeze and allowed the grin to win the battle for his face. Hopefully this is just what the healer ordered…

He put back on his 'Captain face' and turned to face the warriors waiting behind him. As his gaze swept over their flagging forms the men pulled themselves up and to attention. Drakken held back from clicking his tongue at their weary faces. It wasn't hard to see that a number of the men simply weren't cut out for the harsh pace, making him wonder if those individuals would even make it to Tanaris. With any luck having an afternoon to relax and horse around will replenish them. More so, I hope it will calm those who are having trouble accepting Blood-Eye Blade's presence amongst us.

"We will be stopping here for the eve." Murmurs of surprise flitted through the ranks. "Yes, despite the yet early hours. You will be free to spend the rest of the day as you wish and will be able to take advantage of Ratchet's local entertainments if you so desire." Drakken paused and aimed a stern stare at the men, all of who had smiles pulling across their lips. "But be warned. This time here is a privilege and those seen behaving in an inappropriate manner will be confined to their tents for the rest of stay. Before you rush off I need a few volunteers to replenish our perishable supplies at the local merchants while everyone else sets up the camp. After everything is in order and inspections complete you will be allowed to leave. So I'd get to it if I were you."

The hilltop exploded in a flurry of activity. A small group were chosen and tasked with procuring fresh supplies, while the rest of the warriors rushed to roll out their sleeping rolls, brush down any mounts, and set up the communal areas of the camp. Drakken and his lieutenants, as well as some of the older more experienced warriors, took to their tasks at a more sedate pace. Within the hour the hill had been transformed and all troops were standing to attention in front of their freshly pitched tents. After Drakken, Bjarnn, and Gavin had made the rounds the orc Captain dismissed the men with a careless wave. The camp was nearly completely empty in two minutes.
The dark haired warrior shook his head in bewilderment. Well they're certainly looking a bit more chipper now. A quick glance at those trailing behind told him that even the aloof Patrol member had hurried off. Depositing his gear in his tent and counting out a fair handful of coin, Drakken checked in with the guards he had left on duty and followed the menagerie of men into town.

...

The portside town was bursting at the seams and practically trembling with life as two hundred strong, stir crazy militiamen bustled through it. Despite the generous size of the tavern it was still nowhere near large enough for their kind of numbers, made all the more obvious by the short line forming in the doorway. Some soldiers thought better of that idea and spent their afternoon on other frivolous activities such as shopping, fishing, swimming, and trying to hit up the locals for a night of fun.

Relaxing, however, this was not for Drakken and his lieutenants. An afternoon of freedom for their troops meant several hours of careful watching and stern reprimands for the superiors. The Captain observed at least a handful of men and women who had to push the limits of Ratchet's hospitality and his fraying patience. True to his word, those troublemakers quickly found themselves escorted to the campsite and forced into whatever chores still remained.

...

Night fell quickly enough, soothing Drakken with the knowledge that the day of 'rest' would soon be over. The sun had dipped below the distant mountains some time ago and already more than half the men had returned to camp, where they would be kept under Bjarnn's knowing eye. Though whether they returned of their volition was… not important.
The orcish warrior wandered through Ratchet's emptying streets; one last round to be sure there were no stragglers looking to harass the residents as they made their way home. Warm brown eyes searched every alleyway, every shadow, but saw nothing. Reassured that all was as it should be, and the remaining men were all ensconced in their tankards up in the tavern, he slowly made his own way to the inn to join them.

The Broken Keel Tavern was warm as he stepped through the open door. Warm and loud, and despite the growing lateness still filled with many bodies… of varying levels of inebriation.
He spied Gavin and Melaine muttering quietly at a small dark table, shaded by one of the heavy support beams. Despite the drinks in front of them he knew they had one eye open, ready to step in should any of their own become too unruly. The worn but clean bar called to him enticingly and Drakken gave little resistance, walking over and ordering a simple weak ale despite the temptation of the fine double rum he could see on the shelf. I need to keep my wits about me. The men have been rowdier than usual.

As he turned to make his way to his companions, drink held steady in one large green fist, he almost started as he passed by a familiar head of light blonde hair. Blood-Eye Blade sat at the bar, alone as usual, with at least three feet of purposely empty space on his either side. The elf had a full bottle of the afore mentioned double rum, Stranglethorn's best by the look of it, which he appeared to be really sinking his teeth into…or appeared to be really sinking into him. It seemed that whenever Drakken caught sight of him outside their daily march the man was drinking one thing or another. Though I've never seen him drink quite so much in one sitting, he thought as the Patrol member upended his large bottle and drunk down a good portion of the strong alcohol. He briefly contemplated approaching the other man since he was rarely seen to be so blatantly casual but shook himself of such thoughts. I don't think he'd appreciate someone butting into his business…and anything that can make a person drink like that is definitely their own business.
Drakken returned to his original plan of seeking out the company of his lieutenants and pushed his way through the drunken rabble to the small table with his suddenly less appealing ale.

...

...

"You should…should totally do it…"

"Nahway man! Should be you!"

"I'll…hic…I'll do it! I'mma gonna do it!"

"I'll do it ya fuckin' pansies! Idiots are so drunk you'd prolly clock yaselves afore ya even got dere…"

"Like you're any be- urgh… better!"

The Patrol member stared into his drink, lips twisted in a grimace as he tried valiantly to ignore the drunken posturing nearby. It was so typical and yet he was having a harder time than usual resisting the urge to go back there and teach them a lesson with the pointy end of his weapon. The pointy…? What ridiculousness. This rum must be a stronger blend…Maybe from that bad harvest several years back? They did supplement the barrels with a little of whatever they could find to make up for the lack…
The grimace pulled into a snarl at the thought but wasn't enough to slow his drinking.

A commotion behind him interrupted his train of thought. An irritated sigh whispered through full lips and he twisted round on his rickety stool against his better judgement. The group of men he had tuned out before had escalated from arguing incoherently amongst themselves to shoving each other, their voices growing louder still. Crimson eyes rolled and Blood-Eye Blade scoffed. Yes boys, obviously the best way to continue is to start an all-out brawl while your superiors are sitting twenty feet away. Although he had kept his sarcasm to himself one of the men caught his stare and instead of flinching back sneered.

"What are you looking at, Freak?" The brawny orc mocked, his voice as irritating as his countenance led Blood-Eye Blade to believe. His comment, not directed at them, attracted the attention of his mates, who halted their activities to watch the exchange. Surprise flitted across the Patrol member's features at the man's audacity before contempt filled his gaze and one pale brow rose imperiously.

"Not very much apparently. Though I suspected as much from your obnoxious appearance. "Freak"? You honestly couldn't do better than that?" Internally he berated himself for deigning to respond, for rising to their bait. Though as he watched the warrior flounder in anger he almost thought it worth the slip. The elf was willing to leave the confrontation at that and return to his previous engagement with his more than half empty bottle of double rum but fate was a fickle woman, one he knew from experience held him in little regard.

"Fucking pile o'…blurgh… boar dung!" The second orc, an equally large and sickly green hunter, yelled. Oh great, now we've got a mini-mob… and a drunk one at that… "You think you can do whatever you like just 'cause you're sucking up to the Warchief."

"More like sucking off." An effeminate elven paladin scoffed, making a crude gesture with his hand to drive the point home. The four offenders snickered at the insinuation, the others adding vulgar comments of their own and making the group laugh even harder. Blood red eyes narrowed, becoming sinister slits of fire that promised indescribable pain.

"Shut up." The Patrol member growled warningly. Not exactly his most articulate response… The men just laughed it off.

"Why? You gonna run back to your master with your little tail between your legs and tattle?" At any other time the Patrol member would have restrained himself, would have buried his anger deep down inside and left it to fester unseen. The comments were childish at best, depraved at worst and certainly not worth the trouble he would surely be in if the situation escalated beyond words… But he had drunk far more than usual and was really beginning to feel the affects of the alcohol in his veins, his thoughts growing fuzzy and red hazed. He made one last attempt to turn away but was stopped when the most lucid member of the group, a teal skinned troll who was still well into his cups, dared to grab at his arm.

"Ya don't tink we be lettin' ya go dat easily do ya?" He sneered, his rank breath made worse by the thick scent of liquor. "Ya nothin' more den a g…glorified murderer. Do ya wanna guess what we do ta murderers back where I come from?" His three fingered grip tightened and the elf's muscles twitched.

"Don't…" Blood-Eye Blade's face twisted into an expression of rage, "TOUCH ME!" With an angry yell he grabbed the offending appendage and, in a surprising display of strength, threw the troll over his shoulder.

...

The larger man crashed into the floorboards, his yelp of surprise ending in a pitiful strangled squeak as the fuming blood elf followed, slamming onto his narrow chest and shoving his forearm against his throat. The mage pulled at the leanly muscled limb cutting off his air supply but stopped struggling when a near silent hiss slithered into his ears.

"You have no idea what you're messing with, no right to call down judgement upon me." The words, laced with madness, drove a shiver down his long spine. Baiting and threatening the lithe elf no longer seemed like the good idea it had ten minutes ago… Faced with the demon fire blazing in Blood-Eye Blade's livid gaze the troll finally understood the fearful rumours that surrounded the Patrol member. An understanding that he was sure was about to cost him dearly…

...

...

From early days of infancy
Through trembling years of youth,
Long murky middle-age and final hours long in the tooth
He is the hundred names of terror – creature you love the least
Picture his name before you and exorcise the beast.

He roved up and down through history – spectre with tales to tell
In the darkness when the campfire's dead – to each his private hell
If you look behind your shoulder as you feel his eyes to feast
You can witness now the ever-changing nature of the beast.

Beastie!
Beastie!
Beastie!
Beastie!

If you wear a warmer sporran, you can keep the foe at bay
You can pop those pills and visit some psychiatrist who'll say
"There's nothing I can do for you, everywhere's a danger zone
I'd love to help get rid of it, but I've got one of my own."

Beastie!

There's a beast upon my shoulder
Beastie!
And a fiend upon my back
Beastie!
Feel his burning breath a heaving
Beastie!
Smoke oozing from his stack.

And he moves beneath the covers
Beastie!
Or he lies below the bed
Beastie!
He's the beast upon your shoulder
Beastie!
And he's the price upon your head.

He's the lonely fear of dying, and for some of living too
He's your private nightmare pricking
He'd just love to turn the screw
So stand as one defiant
Yes, and let your voices swell
Stare that beastie in the face and really give him hell.

Beastie!

There's a beast upon my shoulder
Beastie!
And a fiend upon my back
Beastie!
Feel his burning breath a heaving
Beastie!
Smoke oozing from his stack.

Beastie!

And he moves beneath the covers
Beastie!
Or he lies below the bed
Beastie!
He's the beast upon your shoulder
Beastie!
And he's the price upon your head.
Oh, oh, oh…

...

Beastie by Jethro Tull

I hope you enjoyed the rest of this chapter. =)