~* Author's Note *~

These chapters are leaking longer and longer.

Hope yall done mind the fluctuating lengths.

~*~ Chapter 37 ~*~

Salira

The Druid's body floated face down, the heel a plate-clad boot hard on her bony lower back. Over her the Scarlet Warrior Salira Porter was frowning, eyebrows draw together. "Had enough?" she inquired, bouncing her boot up and down and causing waves of water to break the otherwise smooth surface around them.

No response.

Grumbling, the woman reached down and hauled the Druid up by her arm, annoyed and perturbed. "That's enough!" If the young elf didn't respond soon Salira was going to hit her again.

The Druid's yellow eyes fluttered open. "I told you!" she barked out while running a hand threw sopping hair, and then hauling her self into the boat with her glorified babysitter.

From the banks of the pond Mr. Meows' ears twitched. He had declined the invitation to get in the boat on account of he didn't like it when the land under him moved. Now he was regretting that decision, testing the waters with his paws and realizing he would have to swim to get there if his intervention was needed. He yowled in annoyance, not the first one of day.

Salira threw towels at the bony Druid, not bothering to open them or help pat down the unruly Night Elf whelp. Stupid child…

The Druid didn't look at her as she rung dull black hair out over the edge of the boat and then proceeded to towel herself off. The leathers she had been issued by the Commander were neatly folded in one corner. Salira kept her eyes averted and tried not to notice how much of a woman's body this child had. Hips and a bust already, and what was generally referred to as a bakers's buns (1) in the ghetto sections of Human towns. Though she was almost as tall as a grown Human it was obvious she was still a child by the standards Night Elves were measured by.

"Can we say this experiment was a success?" The Druid asked glancing at an angle. The orbs behind the light of her eyes were unbroken and white, giving them a very disturbing look. Most of the Forsaken didn't even have eyeballs. That wasn't even as disturbing as the ones who did… because it made one wonder where they got them.

"Yes. I'll write a full report to the Commander detailing how you failed to drown yourself. Again." The sarcasm made the Druid frown but the Warrior didn't care.

Two days in a row they had been out on the lake. It was chilly here and Salira didn't like it. Her preferred source of water was the ocean… or had been before the entire length of coast had been soaked with Plague and overrun with Murlocs and Naga. Of course, the lake was preferable to other experiments the Druid had concocted…

On the shore of the lake sat a crowd of Scarlet onlookers, civilians mostly, but sometimes a soldier or a Priest. They had come in a drove to watch the Druid do one of her experiments, which annoyed Salira to no end. Normally she could keep them away or on the other side of a locked door but on a day like this there was no way to keep them from gawking and whispering.

Salira frowned, "Hurry. I want to get inside." She pointed to the sky and the storm blowing in.

The little Druid looked up at the offending weather for a moment and then back down at her dressing, "Won't be here for another two days. It's going to be fierce though." The Kal'dorie knew the outdoor weather better than just about anyone, being one of the few races that didn't live in weather-locked areas. Khaz Modan, always locked in the winters of snowy mountains and Eversong wood, forever locked in eternal autumn (2) but the elven lands of Darkshore and Ashenvale knew every season.

Why do I get the feeling you just spoke some kind of prophecy?

~*~ Kayas ~*~

Salira made a fire as soon as they were back to her room. The large hearth, quarried from Alterac granite before the wars, was big enough to cook in though it was never used for that purpose. Kayas offered to help but was hushed and waved away. The Scarlet woman never let her do anything she deemed manual.

"Sit, rest." Salira slipping out the door and fetching dinner came after these short orders.

The Druid mused, as she sat by the fire and warmed her hands, that the Scarlet Warrior had certainly put on a good show for the Commander and likewise kept it up whenever anyone else was nearby. Harumphing and storming off, her plate gauntlet digging into the fabric of the Druid's top and twisting it so tightly the cheap leather had warped. As soon as they had been out of sight however…

"I'm going get you out of here as soon as possible," she hissed to her charge, "but until then you have to stay out of sight and make it look like you're on their side."

The Druid had thought about that as they moved threw the enclave. The place was beautiful. It looked exactly like Kayas had seen Human towns look in the picture books and projection crystals her teachers used. All the roofs were red and everywhere was the Scarlet banner. The streets were clean, the trees were alive and the grass was green. Once more the land was flowing and happy, having been purged of the Plauge or not infected to begin with.

Everyone they passed was happy and smiling. That the Druid had a guard escorting her was the only thing that stopped the citizens from attacking. Never in her life had she seen so many Humans in one place! They were strange looking, oddly bright in red and white, brown and yellow. On occasion there was the blue robe of a medic or the purple robe of a Dalaran mage but most of them wore the red and white colors of the Scarlet Campaign.

There were children everywhere and parents with them. They chased butterflies and stopped to point at birds. It was a paradise the likes of which the Druid had never seen. Though there was a war raging all around them they were safe here. The Commander kept them all safe.

Which, her guard told her latter as they were climbing the stairs to her suit, is why they all allowed him to do whatever he wanted to in order to keep this illusion up. The field of tortured prisoners had been locked behind arcane shields and walls so that the smell and sounds didn't ruin the atmosphere. The traitors were hung from the far walls where no one would be able to see them. The only news they ever got was from the Bishop up in the Cathedral that dominated the landscape and he almost never gave them anything but the assurance that they were gaining ground and winning the war against the Scourge.

Which is why the parents should encourage their daughters and sons to join the army as soon as possible, so that they could help speed progress across Loraederon.

"You have no idea how many parents have done just that only to never see their children again." Salira was a very practical woman. "The ones who ask too many questions go missing. The Commander says deserter or traitor or says they fall to the Scourge but we know the truth. We're not nearly as naive as they want to believe we are."

The room she had been led to, in the top of an imposing red and white tower was beautifully appointed. Whoever had been in here before had good taste. The Druid had been told bluntly that they weren't coming back so she could do whatever she wanted with the place. It was called the Traitor's Tower because originally it was used to house nobility before their execution.

Lovely. "Why do you allow this if you know it's wrong?"

"What choice do we have? We stand a better chance staying together, even if it means culling the weak to make sure there are not soft spots for the Scourge to drive a knife in seeking the heart."

That summed it up nicely. They could divide and strike out on their own and fall one group at a time or they could stick together and survive, no matter the cost.

"And yet you say you're going to get me out of here. Doesn't that make you a weak spot?"

Her clothing had been taken away dirty and torn and replacements sent a few hours latter. Though the first day had been spent in awkwardly cut Human-styled clothing, by the second day the leatherworkers had taken her measurements from the old and had a set of Scarlet garb designed with a Kaldorie Druid in mind: a linen and leather number in Scarlet red and forest green. It was designed in the High Elf style, with flowing lines of green leaves and embroidered insignia of the Campaign over the heart. It felt odd to be wearing trousers again after so many months in dress and skirt.

"I'm just another pawn. So are you. The Commander has gone too far, threatening to kill you when you could very well be the cure for the Plague. I don't very well know if you are but I'll take my chances with you out there rather than in here."

Don't trust the Commander. This unspoken truth nagged at the Druid, much as she wanted to believe his promises. She felt as if there were eggshells under her feet whenever anyone else was around and she needed so much to not break those eggshells else she would plummet downward and land on a table in the Field of Agony.

I'm not a pawn. I'm a Druid. She was getting tired of hearing that she was just a piece on someone's playing field. If it were Kaldorie chess(3), she would not mind. But this was Forsaken, Sin'dorie and Scarlet Zealot chess and she very much minded! "I won't leave without the Warlock."

For his part Serz Huzad had been told to leave the compound. Instead he stayed, always watched but never harmed. Why was never revealed to the Druid and every time she asked and someone began to tell her Serz would cut them off and change the subject. At one point he suggested she might try to leave if 'all my secrets are revealed' and that shut anyone up for good. No one would speak of it now and yet they did not make him leave.

She didn't like this secretive side of the Warlock. One should not treat their undead existence as if they were still bread and butter of high society. At least not insofar as not telling other Plague-bearing beings how to avoid being tortured by the Scarlets so easily!

They put him to work instead. It had been two days up in the tower, without one tug on the collar or visit from the Dark Lady, when the Druid had finally broken down and asked her keeper what became of the Warlock, Ser Huzad. She was lead outside to the Practice Fields.

The enclave was walled off in sections. Each could be defended on their own, complete with wells and underground tunnels leading to every corner of the settlement. This particular field was next to the Field of Agony and was of similar size. Judging by the shambling horrors chained to tethers all over the place it was where the Scarlets practiced their arts on the undead, on the Scourge and on the Forsaken. There were even living beings there, Humans mostly but at least one Dwarf, but none of them Scarlet and so all fair game. She had flinched and walled herself off at the screams of the sentient around her, a little disturbed at how good she was getting at it.

Serz Huzad was in a small section of yard walled off from the rest by high bushes and flowing carpets of flowers. They were living, where he was not. Unable to have his request to visit a tailor honored he had been forced to keep his ragged robe and all it's bloody stains. They stood in stark contrast to the dozen or so children surrounding him, all ranging in age from three to twelve, if Kayas was any judge of Human age. There wasn't a grown person to be seen; a fact that made Kayas wonder at their sanity since Serz was very much an undead thing which all of them feared so much.

"Again!" The Warlock peepd at one little girl dressed in Novice Priestess robes of white and blue. She wound her up face in concentration, flashed her hands threw the air in practiced motions and spoke a Holy word.

Serz Huzad sidestepped and didn't bother to look at the fizzle of Light that would have hit him in one shoulder "Again!" he said, all the patience of a drill sergeant or perhaps a parent.

This time he stepped the other way and again it fizzled in the air near his left ear. "Your watching where I'm standing, not where I'm about to move. By the time your spell gets to me I will be out of the way. Again!"

"Not if you're shackled first!" some snotty little boy in the back taunted. He was almost the oldest there and farther along I his training as a Priest than the little girl. The girl looked stricken, wondering why she hadn't though of that.

Seeing the look of self-loathing on her face caused the undead man's eyebrows to rise in challenge. Stepping behind himself with one food, he neatly turned in military style to face the boy. "By all means. Show her how it's done." The Druid did not welcome the wondering that came at such a maneuver. For all his seeming charm he had a military past; had worn Quel'dorie hunting leathers and … marched with hordes of Scourge armies to ravage the sanity of the living.

The boy grinned, red hair standing out starkly against his robes of white and green. "Just watch!" His arms moved like lighting in the air, showy arks of golden Light feathering out on either side as he wound the spell up.

Serz yawned, not impressed. This blatant show of disrespect made the boy hurry his spell along. Sigils done being traced, he took the caster stance that would allow the Holy Light to filter to all his power points and opened his mouth to speak the Holy word-

-only too late to realize the Warlock's curse had been upon him from the beginning. The boy would not speak. "You're dead." The Warlock said. "Never open your mouth while a Warlock has their sights on you. If they can pin a voice to a soul they can silence that voice."

A swift hand movement and the boy could speak again. "You cheated!" he whined.

Serz turned to the little girl, "How did I do it?" he inquired.

"You're dead. You don't need to yawn. You did it then."

The Warlock smiled, warmth in his yellow glowing eyes; the Novice beamed.

The Druid left as quietly as she had come, not wanting to disturb them. It was disturbing enough to watch a Scourged man teaching Priests how to fight him as it was!

She returned to her room and Salira had brought her food, "So you're only being nice to me because you think I can cure the plague?" The Druid had asked her guard. The woman shook her head as if she didn't now for certain why.

"They crossed a line when they sanctioned the torture of living children." And that was that.

~* End Notes *~

(2) According to one source Eversong is locked in eternal spring but Blizzard recently retcon this to make it eternal autumn. I went with the most recent seeing as most of the trees have yellow and red leaves, indicating autumn more than spring.

(3) Kaldorie Chess

Pawns – Rogues

Knights – Hunters

Castles – Sentinels (Warriors)

Queen – Tyrande / Queen Azshara

King - Malfurion / Illidan

Bishops – Druid/Priestess

And in my version you have to capture the Queen to win, being the heart of the people and all, but she can still move all over the place like in normal games. If the King is killed any Druid can resurrect him in the place of that piece. Priestess can use a one-time ability to shield those within one square around them and stop them being taken off the board and providing a free move for any piece that is in danger. Hunters get a one-time move that freezes a piece in its spot for a turn. Warriors have a one-time ability that cleaves, taking out one piece and knocking another back to its former spot. Rogues have a one-time ability to move one square behind any piece within two squares of their own.

I need to bust out my board and see if this would actually be a viable way of playing the game, but I can see trying to remember which piece has used it's abilities being a problem so you'd prolly need a piece of paper to keep track.

(1) Bakers's buns. Human way of saying "baby's got back!", a.k.a ghetto booty. Next time you log into a Night Elf toon, look at her butt. It's huge and I mean huge.