"I run and run a thousand miles and I am barely breathing
Only the fuel of a passionate heart keeps this body strong
And moving forward."
~ Shissou, Jason Houston
~*~ Author's Notes ~*~
I had to cut details of the zeppelin and subsequent drama because the chapter length was running too long. Adding each of the events as their own chapters would have made them too short or overly bloated with un-engaging details. I hope the compromise of detail vs length worked out to you liking
This chapter was originally written 8/12/12. During the update edit I caught and fixed all the places I wrote "threw" instead of "through". You, dear readers, pointed out my mistake in regards to this bit of grammar and so I applied your teachings. Hopefully I caught them all :)
~*~ Chapter 32 ~*~
Upon reaching the dock, and over the screeching and seething threats of the Orcs, who indeed had no idea who this arrogant Blood Elf High Priest and Forsaken Warlock were. The Priest proceeded to back the hissing Druid into a corner. They eyed the Warlock with the most suspicion, wondering why the Warchief would grant something like that entrance to his city, let along the keys to it.
Just as he was about to get a hand on the collar to re-introduce the range when there came an abrupt tug on his robes from both sides. To his left and his right stood tiny goblins, one male and one female.
"Neutral ground." The female said.
"She belongs to me." The Priest said. Someone as important as he only ever entertained the idea of Neutral Ground.
"Neutral ground." The male said, fisting the fabric and pulling back even harder. The steely and very unhappy look in his eyes was as if he would make the Blood Elf very, very sorry for terrorizing a paying customer.
Especially one who was currently paying to replace his entire helium balloon.
"She'll have to leave the ship if you want to put a hand on her," the female said smugly, "Good luck getting that to happen." She had come to enjoy late night chatting with the Night Elf. Not many of her kind were found in the Eastern Kingdoms.
From the landing dock the Warlock grinned, "Is that a challenge?" Under the full black hood she wore only her eyes and lower mouth were visible. She looked like a fool ready to hang herself. Her eyes were tinged with red, her tome pulsing with evil intent.
Without a moments hesitation she want skydiving over the edge of the cliff, plummeting to the ground dozens of yards below. "I like a challenge!" her cackle rang out threw the pink and orange limestone bluff walls.
Both goblins let go of the priest reflexively and went to look over the side of the ship. The Priest was also leaning over the side, whispering words in the Holy tongue that would slow his companion's fall. Another feather evaporated in a flash of magic. Soon she landed safely, feather lightly, in the harsh dry grass a hundred feet below the zeppelin.
Sighting with relief the Priest turned back to the Druid, "Look, I understand how it ended last time you were in a Horde city, but this time it's different. We've been here for four days waiting for you. Corrosa and I were planning to leave Tirisfall Glade soon anyway so we're not even upset you took off like that." He knelt down.
The Druid hissed, all her fur rose from widow's peak to tail tip, and down both arms and legs as well. No way in fel was she trusting him! Not any! Not at all! The Queen of the Damned had crushed and blasphemed her entire body, stolen her will and almost shattered her soul... what would vile Orcs and Trolls do?!
"I wont leave you this time, you have my word."
Which means nothing to me, sin'dorie! She wanted to claw his face off. Claw his pretty ears off his pretty head and make bloody work of his pretty hair. He was just to … pure, damn him -!
...What's that smell? It smells like burning... wood...?
Realization that the ship was on fire came the same time the enormous green flame shot up the rigging to her left. It engulfing the railing in ethereal fire that burned hotter, faster and meaner than the regular kind. The bottom of the ship was already disintegrated, flames licking up and out of the cab. Pieces of flaming underbelly could be heard thunking into the hard stone far, far below. Waves of heat invaded their lungs; smoke stung their eyes.
The Goblins shrieked and set to work undoing the bindings on the enormous helium balloon overhead. No less than twice had the captain exploded his own balloon while it was docked and empty, but this time proximity alone would kill them all. He would never admit it was for insurance, but the fat checks he got cut afterward were too conveniently timed to his financial troubles.
The Deathguard, for his part, put on an emergency jettison pack and leapt over the rail. Halfway to the ground he pulled the string. A giant pink smiley face popped out of a tiny sack on his back. He angled it away from the ship, the Orcs and anyone else who might have exception with the crew of a ship that caught fire in the skies over their precious home city.
In their haste the Goblins undid only one side of the netting that secured the balloon; the ship rotated around, breaking away from the dock and floating out over the auction house district towards the smithy (1). The fel flames heated the gas inside the balloon and rocked the decking to an angle. It began turning downward by the lack of support on the one side as the netting over the balloon pulled away. The ship was hanging by half a dozen ropes on one side within a few panicked heartbeats.
Now trapped on a huge flaming ship half a mile into the air the Druid and Goblins were in panic mode. Being a feline the Druid did NOT like fire. Being a Druid, she liked fel flame least of all. Adrenaline washed over her and she leapt onto the Priest almost making good of her want to shred his face. Balancing precariously on his shoulders and lacquered wings, she held on for dear life and yowled loudly.
The next instant an enormous golden bubble was erected around all four of them, protecting them from the heat… but not gravity. While the Priest chanted the spell that held the bubble, the ship became engulfed around them. Yards of decking came apart, succumbing to the hellish green energy that burned wood and metal alike.
It only took a few seconds. Just a few seconds! The Priest grabbed first the female and then the male Goblin and sent them over the side of the ship with the same spell he used for his Warlock. As they glided to the ground the heat from the magic-fed fire continued to push the ship through the air, quickly closing in on the stripped pink cliffs over Orgrimmar.
As the bindings on the balloon singed away the balloon continued to rotate upwards until only a few strands of the rope remained. The Druid changed into her upright form, grabbed the last of the bindings and wrapped her legs around the Priest. Mid-protest about 'not being that kind of man-friend' did the other elf realize he fell under the very real threat of ending up as fel flavored paste on the bottom of the wide canyon below them.
The last rope snapped.
Weeks latter he would never admit he screamed and clung to the Druid's boney as he heart and stomach fell away from his feet. The rapidly expanding space between the soles of his boots and the flaming deck of the ship made the blood drop out of his skin and brain, rush inward with numbing speed to the organs. It only two one second... two seconds... three seconds for the wide green eyes to dilate in terror, a piece of his soul ripped open, a new wound pulsing ugly and bright across his mind. The scar it would leave behind would haunt the Priest for time eternal: a brand new fear of heights.
The ship plummeting away from them, dropping down, down, down with sickening speed till it CRASHED! into the canyon walls, sliding to the floor in pieces.
Priest, Druid and balloon went sailing upward. Far below them the Warlock cackled in mad laughter as she continued to channel the magic out of one open palm directed at the remains of the balloon holes. Instantly the Druid knew the Warlock was using the heat of her magic to expand the gas of the baloon to keep them afloat even as the gas rushed out, which would drop them like a stone. Around the Warlock a scarred circle dozens desecrated the ground for yards in every direction. It was very like the scars all over the length and breath of the Plaguelands.
Upon seeing the one the Warlock made the little Druid suddenly understood why the thing had stopped at every single one of them, studdied them and then walked off muttering some variation of "armatures". Hers were the real deal. Bordered in dancing demons of red and green, the purple runes blazed bright enough to obscure the narrow figure within.
All but her demonic eyes.
Looking into the red glowing eyes of that undead woman Kayas realized for the first time just how powerful the Warlock was. And how little regard for life she had, having set the entire ship on fire just to get her off it.
The Priest was clinging to her waist, eyes squeezed tightly shut, and swearing loudly in Thalaussian. Swearing allot. And though the little Druid knew not what he said she certainly understood the gist of it. "I'm &^% going &^* kill her.I'm %$# going #$ kill &^$ her so dead she'll &^% never rise !% again! I'm gonna kill that crazy (% ^$ %$# woman!"
For her part the Druid was very strong. All Night Elves were strong, but feral Druids more than most. She held the rope with ease despite the weight of the priest and his heavy wardrobe, waiting for the drifting balloon to take them up and over the walls of Orgrimmar.
Wait.
Wait...
Wait.
Now!
With his eyes shut the Priest almost screamed again when she let go, wholly caught unaware by the sudden weightlessness. The Druid fell into his embrace, her chest slamming into his face with enough force to make him pink more ways than one. The suspension only lasted a second before the ground slammed into his jelly legs.
Squirming like a rabid child, the Druid broke away the next instant. The one after that brought a rush of sanity back to the war-hardened battle priest. He moved almost as fast as she did. Dodging both as she shifted into her Dishu form, ran for the walkway leading downward, ignored the warning cries that followed her wake.
She knew why those hands were gloveless, and she would die the final death before she let them touch that collar. Someone in Darnassus would surely know how to remove it. But first, escape.
One of the guards thundered over the ramparts, the non-stick soles of her shoes making soft sucking noises on the smooth stone. Massive sweat slicked arms wielded a spear of purple wood that could only have come from one of the sacred trees in Ashenvale.
Anger bristled in the Druid. Her head dodged what would have otherwise been a fatal thrust of that spear. Sparks flew as the darkened metal tip slapped off the stone. An instant of heart-twitching panic shot across the Druid's mind as the promise of more fire sent her skittering to one side. There had been to much of that recently; she turned, kept running to get away from the tool and the spear it wielded.
"She's mine! Stand down!" The Priest bellowed it over the singing adrenalin that washed the bones and meat of both orc and druid. Neither paid him any heed, kept moving.
"I said stand down, guards. That's my-"
The woman spun back to the priest but did not stop running after the prey, "Like I give a rats ass whom this little kaldorie whelp came from. I'll send her back to mommy in pieces!" For such a stout woman she sure could move. It was all the little Druid could do to dodge the blows that otherwise would have had her bleeding out on top of this sun-soaked hell hole.
Flabbergasted the Priest actually tripped over the hem of his robes, stumbled but managed to keep his footing. "I didn't say she was my child, I said she belongs to me. Leave her be!"
The little Druid may have fought Orcs before, but never ones so full of health and strength. Always bound Orcs from Ashenvale-Durotar boarder who had been captured. They were worn down and used to train the melee fighters or for target practice for the archers. (2)
Once the Druid got over the initial shock of understanding what the large woman said she just waited for an opening. When it came, she shifted into her bear form and rammed the woman hard enough to knock her off the rampart and send her flying down the steps backward.
The Priest went after the woman, casting once more the spell to slow her decent to the ground and what would have been certain death. The distraction lasted long enough for him to lose sight of the Druid. She was down the rampart and racing through the halls of the front gate before the woman even hit the ground. Flat out speed carried her past the first two sets of guards before they realized what was going on.
If I can get to the gate, the front gate, I can make it! I can get out and go home! she though, elation pumping more speed into waning muscles. As the front gate neared she saw the daylight of the outside world, the promise of freedom. Behind her the sounds of dozens of guards pushed her forward, feet barely touching the ground as she shot towards the great ugly metal doorway.
Then came the roots.
A lot of them. The first one that landed was actually just luck; it wrapped around her front paw as it touched the ground. Within a millisecond her entire paw was rooted, sending her flying end over end and slamming into the ground with the force of how fast she had been going. The pain of fracturing enough bones to warrant alarm did not stop her from shredding the roots and turning tail to flee again as the guards got dangerously close.
The stone and dirt floor was coming apart under her even as she fled. Kayas didn't look back, too intent on rolling out the healing spells she knew, her tuning with the natural, healthy landscape coming after just seconds of being on the ground. The spells rolled: the bones began to knit. At a time like this she really missed her priestess friend, who could wield Elune's Compassion while she evoked Elune's Fury; right now trying to use both at the same time was taxing.
This luck of the enemies had only begun. The width and breath of the hall was suddenly covered in thick barked roots, too thick to claw through with ease. She knew she was going too fast to avoid running into them – so she ran faster and jumped them. Landing neatly on the other side, her tail almost hit the snares before she rocketed across the blank floor.
She skidded to a halt. So close, so close!
Something was in front of her. Kayas couldn't see it, but it was defiantly there. The guards were on the other side of the roots and she was just yards from the door. Yards from freedom and the open road that leads to home. Home. An invisible wall of body heat blocked the path. Heat and the smell of pastures and sunlight filled the hall. Heat and the smell of… Druids in the morning.
Screaming fear and snarling rage. Hair on end, claws carving trenches in the stone and dirt. We're not supposes to fight each other. It's always been that way-!
Breaking stealth over a dozen enormous beast men called down the Earth Mother on her, engaging Her help in trapping their prey in the roots of their homelands. The Druid ran, Elune, help me! darting between two of them and over the first series of plants to spring from the ground. I'll never hunt alone again. Just feet from the door she was drug to a halt by several of the living fibers taking hold of her back legs. It's not suppose to be this way.
She struggled and clawed, screamed in rage and pain, lashed out at the beast men with their enormous horns on the sides of their heads. Tauren. Tauren Druids. Attacking a fellow follower of the Earth and protector of life. Horde scum at it's finest!
Still they prayed, channeling their spells to bind Kayas to the ground. She fought the living ropes, fought them, clawing and moving inch by inch towards the promise of freedom. It can't be like this; I need to go home. Tears stung her eyes even in her feline form as bright and hot flashes of memories drove her forwards thorugh the pain and disorder.
Mists rolling over the buttress roots of the beautiful sentinel trees.
Furbolgs scratching themselves in the morning as they pile berries on hot rocks to warm for breakfast.
The song of the land humming, tuning itself, changing.
The moths that gather around the natural lampposts, white shimmery wings slowly swaying in the breeze.
Behind her the Priest was coming, calling them not to hurt her, that she belonged to him. I belong to no one! Feeling him getting near pushed her to just pull her paws directly from the roots, leaving skin and blood and fur behind. The shriek made several of the wet eyes of the beast flinch, but otherwise did not move them to stop. The screaming filled the hall, as if someone else were pulling her hands and feet off with shear force, as if she were not a panicked wild beast caught in a trap I'll never leave home alone again; Elune, just save me and knowing that only in escaping would she live to see another day.
Then the Priest was by her side, reaching for the collar get away from me. Reaching for the thing that would put him back in control of her. Shifting into her bear form once more you won't take me alive, ignoring the pain of pulling another paw out of the roots, she lashed out at his face.
That it connected she did not expect, nor at that time have the mind to care. Enemy! Vile, betrayer of everything good! He left her at Undercity; given her to the Dark Lady abandoned me to torture and play with, had starved her and let her be beaten they hurt me and where were you?. He had kept her in the company of a Warlock and, for Elune's sake, let that fel-damned woman set a ship on fire so that he could have her in his possession again. Why didn't I let you die?
I'm not going back!
She though all this as she mauled him across the face. Blood and flesh came away in her claws. I wont let you do it to me anymore. I wont let you hurt me again The roots were around her back now, pinning all but her head and that one paw to the ground. She swiped once more, relishing the smell of his blood and the sight of carnage-
There was a sharp pain between her shoulders and the air was knocked from her lungs. It stunned her, more because she knew it came from one of the druids around her you hit me with a weapon?. Her mind cried out in anguish that matched her mortal body. You hit me? We're not suppose to fight each other.
One hand over his face to heal the damage, the other hand reaching for her collar, the Priest dodged teeth and claws to get fingers around the metal thing. You can't do it to me anymore! The feline under his fingers shrieked You cant in feral anger, promising revenge if he put a range on the collar again, I wont let you! The claw and teeth stopped the advance of a bare hand You'll pull back a stump, I promise! but not the Priest's resolve.
Death rolling inside the living cage, both legs twisted painfully behind her, causing a sickening sensation of pulling parts of the body free from other parts of the body they were never meant to be parted with. The Priest jerked back, two clawed wildcat arms striking out at his bleeding and partially healed face. The blood, rich and intoxicating flowed down his robes in a trickle.
The Warlock was behind him now, barking at the dishonorable druids who men, "Do I need to tell you how to root her arms? I'm pretty sure I can do it myself. Let me try!"
The though of the Warlock casting anything at her was enough to cause the Druid to struggle to run again. In the chaos of distraction the Priest got NOO! a hand under her collar. The Warlock and the Druid locked eyes as the surge of power brought blackness.
I'll never forgive you. Not as long as you live will you ever be able to wash away a sin so great. I never harmed you. I never caused you pain. I never deserved for you to own my life.
The Priest's entire being slumped over her body the same time she slumped into the unconscious. Being the maker of the collar, and a Priest, he heard it all while directly wired to her mind.
Her conviction.
Her terror.
Her soul – her free spirit- crying out as he trapped her once more by his side. She was a mere eight feet away from the freedom she so desperately deserved.
"I promise," he whispered where no one else could hear, "this is not all in vain. Someday you will understand. I promise."
~ End Notes ~
1) Once upon a time there was an anvil by buildings to the left coming into Orgrimar. It was there for maybe one patch and then removed back to it's location at the very back corner of Orgrimar. My guess is because Org only had one auction house at the time it was a hassle for people to have to go all the way to the back to smelt ore; enough people complained that they added one to the front. The next patch introduced multiple auction house locations so the front forge was removed in order to ensure people spread out in the new city so as not to overcrowd the AH district.
(2)Anthropology: Kaldorei Teacher: Kayas Subject: Military
While the Orcs may be war machines by training in the Old Horde and the Humans might be war machines by choosing to be, it was the Kaldorei who used to own most of the planet. Though ancient enemies have surfaced over and over again to push them further and further back they still have the most formidable army in existence. "Army" in this term can be used to define the fact that every single kaldorei child is taught to fight in some way, shape, form or fashion. Even the forest restoring druids have limited skill in at least one feral form and do not hesitate to turn on anyone who encroaches.
At the tender age of seven Kayas made her first kill against an Orc who had been used for years in training exercises and was finally at the end of his usefulness. Her slight hesitation was met with the ultimatum of, "Them or the forest. The forest or us."
She chose the forests; she chose herself.