~* Author's Notes *~
I realize my main character has been in Tirisfall Glades since chapter 14 and this is chapter 57 (granted most "chapters" are only 4 pages). I did set up a lot of things to happen while she was here but maybe I could have skipped making chapters out of some of the less important parts and Someday I'll learn the art of condensed sotrytelling.
Today is not that day.
~*~ Chapter 57 ~*~
Commander Hillburn didn't understand why the druid was just ignoring the mage. Obviously the woman needed attention and hadn't the girl spouted on and on about being a healer? Some healer she turned out to be. It was left to him to seek something to wrap her in and take some of the angry fire to make a warm space to help her come down from the cold shock. Mages didn't get frostbite if they were specialized in controlling frost magic, but they certainly couldn't avoid feeling the affects of their misused magic. Having done what he could he left here in the wagon and went back to guard-duty over the druid.
Kayas was back to looting and rolling bandages, unable to keep up with who was Scourge and who was Scarlet and who was Forsaken and who was Underground. Several fallen defenders were now fighting for the Scourge as yet another of the Dark Lady's dark priests went down screaming. Her body thrashed with shadow energy as her slayer cackled atop her mount.
The RazorWing and Frostfire both fought with their Queen, an intricate dance of small bodies, ice and blades. Interspersed with the cries of anguish and anger came the random calls of "SCREEEEEEE" from the Dark Lady which periodically shut down every caster. Though it should not have affected her own the missing link between herself and her minions afforded them no such protection.
The fighting went on and on as the little druid made bandages and passed them off to anyone who got near enough to take them. The mud and the blood and the tears tore at her heart, creating an ache that ran so deep she would flee if it were possible. The suffering around her mounted and mounted into a whining fever pitch of emotions which pushed her to a limit and left her railing there. The best she could do is block it out by keeping busy. They wouldn't let her fight but that didn't mean she was useless.
A high pitched shriek sounded, cutting through her internal attempts to block out other people's emotions. A wall of fear and heart-stick slammed into her, almost pushing her over. Where did that come from? Spinning around, the little druid didn't wait for Nekov or the Commander. Her leather booted feet made splashes in the mud as she ran headlong towards the sound.
The Dark Lady was screaming rage, attacking the abomination with both swords. Long out of arrows she fought with the only weapons she had left. Apparently she considered claws and feet and her voice weapons. The abomination continued to swing a giant meat cleaver and what looked like an overly-large harvesting tool. So far only one arm had been taken off and three of it's five hands divested of weapons.
The furry and flurry of the Banshee Queen's attacks brought half the actions around her to a standstill. Anyone fighting something without a brain lost out on the impressive display of the Dark Lady's battle-hardened prowess. Anyone fighting sentient beings stooped and stared right beside those who they fought. One of the Scourge made a quip about that being why her King wanted the woman for His own in the first place.
The undead high elf screamed curses in Thelassian. Never had such a beautiful language sounded so utterly damming. She spun, gutted, dodge and mutilated the walking bag of pus and guts. It shrieked, no longer in a playing mood. Intent on the small woman who side-stepped it's every swing and counterattacked with cutting efficiency. Her eyes glowed such a bright, enraged red it blinded her features. White hair formerly plastered down with raid now wiped around sending jets of moisture into the air.
Immediately Kayas knew something was wrong. Where is...? Then she saw him in the corner. The Scout knelt beside an enormous black lump on the ground. His back was bare, the jerkin now pressed into the feline's heaving sides. The gash had broken clean through the metal and wood armor to leave a deep, ragged wound. Mr. Meows' thick tale slashed the air as the threw back is head and tried not to answer the Banshee Queen's enraged screaming. The druid flinched again and again as the abomination and the Dark Lady danced. Nekov and the Commander caught up; she didn't give them a chance to haul her away from the fighting. Forward she surged till she was by the ailing panther's side.
"He needs a healer!" The gush of blood under the Scout's hands hit the cold ground and steamed. "I can't stop the bleeding, I can't heal him!" Tears traced down lines of terror etched on his face. White eyed, he had no idea how to help his companion. "Please, do something!"
It took a moment for Kayas to realize he meant the Dark Lady, not her. Her eyebrows dipped down in confusion when the undead elf suddenly broke from the battle with the abomination. Swiftly she ordered the cowering Serz Huzad to use his voice amplification spell on her. Quickly he obeyed, ever looking for an opportunity to actually be useful. The Banshee Queen was livid. "The one who destroys that abomination may name your own price as payment!"
The druid's eyes went wide, head tracking the Dark Lady from her position at the front of the battle to the background. Around her the fighting resumed, each person who did no otherwise have a target honing in on the abomination. Much as it wanted to follow the object of it's aggravation it could not. It became swarmed, swamped and forced to turn it's attention to its own protection. Suddenly it was defending itself form an onslaught of casters, melee fighters and the Light. It no longer attacking with glee.
Mr. Meows crooned in pain as the elfin lady ran over, boots splashing and armor covered in the residue of battle. The Dark Lady pushed the Scout away from the wound on the black cat's side and peeled back the jerkin. The Scout landed in the mud, hands shaking, bare chest heaving. "Please, do something," he pleaded with her, voice shaking, "He can't get up; it's bleeding too much!" Just then he looked as young as he really was. Aqua hair pulled back in that ridiculous series of braids ending in bones, pasted to his bare skin with runoff water and someone else's blood.
One massive feline arm came up to pull the white-haired woman into a warm embrace, though his dark eyes winced to move. She struggled to get away from his head but he would not release. She had to allow him to butt her breastplate to gain some compliance. Sharpened nails found a path around one thick-skinned ear to scratch the good spot.
Her voice shook as she admonished the great feline, "Do behave, Mel'ody, I need to check your wounds properly." But the panther had no intention of laying on his side while the Forsaken Queen did work. He batted at her sword hilts and proceeded to delicately untie one boot with one dagger length claw before she finally reprimand him sharply enough to gain some cooperation. "Dis al'maral! Embro forytanal shi!" His ears went back and he glared for a second before laying down. Paws bigger than the elf woman's face needed like a kitten as she set to work on the wound. He started to purr. Kayas knew from experience this was the first signs of shock for felines in mortal danger of dying.
The Dark Lady went to work peeling back the remains of the armor. The cat warbled in pain causing the Forsaken woman to wince in respond and softly apologize for the discomfort. The Commander was plum startled to see the object of his years of hatred be so gentle with a living creature. Kayas knelt down to see if her healing magic would work on a cat. Sometimes it had worked in the past, but only those companions which worked closely enough with a scout or hunter to have made a pair-bond. Mr. Meows did not belong to the Scout and could not belong to a Warlock.
The magic flowed over the wound, sinking into the heaving sides and seeking out the bottom of the wound. It flows through the cats body and he twitches to feel it, curling his great paws and lowing deeply. Lifting his head he tries to lick at the wound but the Dark Lady won't let him, pushing his face away. He keeps trying to lick till finally she has to grab one fang and shake it, barking another Thelassian order at him before he lays back enough to allow them to work.
"Maybe he'd listen to me if I learned Thelassian." The Scout knelt close by, never leaving his best friend's side. Though he could do nothing to save the cat his impressive bow skills threatened everyone who got near, allies or Scourge. He wouldn't risk someone accidentally causing complications.
"He listens to me." Serz said, oh so helpful.
Kayas watched as the Queen extracted a piece of shattered wood from the wound. Several more followed, along with a splinter of metal. Something blunt had crashed into him – or he had crashed into?- for this was not a weapon wound.
"I told him to look out," the Scout argued, holding the cats lashing tail so it would quick slamming into his backside out of reflex. "He just kept going! We've played this game before; I don't know why he just kept going!"
Because, Kayas though sadly, you're not a bonded pair. No matter what you do he will only listen to the one he's bonded to.
The angry Queen turned on the Scout, "You think you're qualified to give orders to Mel'ody?" The Scout jumped up and shuffled back. The Dark Lady stood, towering over the youth by quite a bit, "He is a veteran of wars before even Michael was born! If anything, you should be taking orders from him."
"Cause he talks to me at all?!" The Scout barked back holding his ground. Fists shook in an effort to keep his temper. Silver eyes burned with anger at the woman in front of him. Queen of the Forsaken maybe, but not his Queen. Serz had to step between the two and talk in sweet, calming tones before they would peel eyes off each other and focus on their one real concern: Mr. Meows.
Just how old is this cat? Kayas could not stop the bleeding. Her magic had a diminished affect on an animal who was no longer boned, but once had been. This realization, that the cat knew how to let others heal him should he need it, triggered a series of thoughts. Reaching into the bag she pulled out all of the bandages intended for personal use. These she unrolled and layered one over another across the gash. Though soaked in blood in a matter of seconds it did not prevent the magic in them from soaking into the wounds.
"Will his wound heal?" The concerned Queen stood over the working druid, fretting like a cat who's kitten was injured.
"He will not die this second," is all the Druid would tell her. "I'm doing what I can. In case you haven't noticed I'm not this breed of druid." The truth of her statement did not stop her form trying. It was the first time she ever wished she had not left the relic back home in her dresser. For his kindness and acceptance she could at least try to make sure that, come daylight, he was not amongst those headed for the burn pile.
"Will he live?" The Dark Lady didn't much like being put off when asking one of her subjects questions. Though she fretted there was still the authority of a Queen in her voice.
"He will not die this second." Kayas repeated, "The bandages have slowed the bleeding considerably and my spells have done what they can." She sat back on her heels, "It is up to him now. Keep him still or he will make it worse. If they bleeding stops in the next few minutes he may yet live to see the morning. If not then …"
The Dark Lady fretted, pacing back and forth and back and forth. The Scout found a dry enough place to sit and did so. Serz went over to console him. They played a waiting game now.
Anything that got too close which wasn't looking for further orders soon turned into a pile of steaming carcass at the irate Queen's feet. After the first three kills the Scourge started avoiding going near her. One of their riders lay headless and the horse was now arranged in fifteen fleshless pieces in a semi-circle around them. That it kept kicking even after its rider and head were removed only egged the woman on. She screamed and hacked and screamed and hacked and screamed and hacked till the battle itself was edging away from her.
A cheer caught the Drud's attention. Standing she noted someone managed to bring down the abomination. The fighting continued fluidly so she was unable to see who would be granted "name your price" as reward from the Queen of the Forsaken. However, it looked like the battle might be turning in their favor for once. The addition of the underground undead shifted things considerably. There was still the necromancer, Death Knight and few remaining ground troops outside to contend with.
Needing something to do while fretting the Dark Lady became annoyed by the lack of Scourge trying to attack her and went looking for a fight. She soon found one.