Disclaimer: The characters and settings created by Blizzard Entertainment Inc in this story are owned by their creators. I do not claim them as mine in any way, shape or form. I am not receiving monetary profit from this story and no copyright infringement is intended.

Note: Fun fact—I'm also finishing a novel and working on some other stories for publication online. Not so fun fact—I therefore do not have a lot of time for this story. For that reason, I'll be posting shorter chapters more frequently, a lot like this one. Look for them each Sunday! (At least now I can give you a more consistent schedule.)

Second fun fact—I'm a huge fan of the anime Shin Chan, and there's an episode called 'The Drinky Hiro Show', so that's where this chapter title comes from!


Chapter 6: The Drinky Monky Show

I'm really grateful that this next thing occurred to me in the middle of my first day investigating…

Kael'thas is a mage.

Technically, he's a Bloodmage, whatever that means. I don't really get magic-users. But somewhere in there is the ability to summon portals and tear through time and space to be nearby his part-ghost-part-intoxicant-part-wife Saturna Sunstrider if he ever decides he's done being dangled on a string that stretches from Thunderbluff all the way to Silvermoon City.

Yeowch. So I decided to stay on my guard.

After all that flirting and drinking coffee with Saturna at The Cat and the Shaman, I was supposed to go to Bloodhoof Village and get ready for my Sunwalker initiation. Saturna wanted to go over early with me and 'meet my family'. And also probably hide away someplace that wasn't a capital city her husband could quickly port to. You know, after the drama with Baine last night? That was my best guess…

Either that, or Saturna wanted to run off and hide with me in some intimate closet that wasn't in a city her husband could easily port to. You know, after our fun chat that morning?

In the middle of my flustered brain trying to work out whether Saturna truly wanted me or not, and whether I knew of a locking closet discreet enough over in Bloodhoof to chance it…

I told her No.

See? I wasn't completely under her spell. Or I wasn't, yet.

On my way out of the inn, that vagrant who wanted firewater so badly followed me. Something that I was honestly kind of glad for, because I wanted a way to ensure he wouldn't bother Saturna. Handling him outside seemed a great chance to do that.

I shouted at him without turning around, to let him know I was onto his stupid butt, "Hey, buddy!"

"Eh?"

The grayish spotted Tauren stopped mid-step. He was a little younger than I thought. That's how shaggy and scruffy he looked. Still older than me, though. He seemed to think himself capable of stalking behind me without being noticed. I looked him over. He was a monk. Heh, would you believe it? Another drunk monk brewmaster. Of course, being a Tauren, his drink of choice was firewater. Also, I get monks living more simplistically, but to the point of looking like a bum? That was somehow even funnier. He looked mostly gray now, covered in tavern-floor sawdust and days' worth of dirt from sleeping rough, but I could imagine him as a dark brown-and-white-spotted bull once upon a time.

"Happy Holidays!" the Tauren monk stamped his hoof and threw his arms up, like he was going to hug me. I took a large step back, but then held my ground, however he gestured and tried to dance about.

The next thing out of his silly mouth, "Your friend is cute, why aren't you the one taking her home?"

"Because her husband is the king of Quel'thalas. Do you know King Kael'thas Sunstrider? Who nearly razed Outland to the ground?" An exaggeration, but I didn't want Saturna to have anything to worry about while I couldn't be there to watch for the shiftier locals.

…And then it occurred to me that I must have sounded like one of her zealous Kael'thas-worshipping Bloodknights, fawning over her.

The spotted monk accused me of the same.

"Just don't be stupid and give her a hard time, if they ever do let you back inside the inn. Her Bloodmage husband can probably portal here with half a thought, which is why I'm leaving." I turned to go, "You should do the same."

This fool mocked me, mimicking me with a baby voice. I turned immediately on my heel and tossed my dark horns at him. The monk sank into a crouch, ready. Whatever, I could rofl-stomp his arse… That's Orgrimmar slang I picked up from Baine once, I'm sure.

Then, I thought about what the monk had just said. "You… you were with her Bloodknights last night? That's how you know. How they are, how they talk, what they think?" Because Mu'sha only knows, I just got annoying 'Huzzah's!', tea party clapping and derisive remarks from them the other day. Who knew what they were really up to?

The spotted monk had a lazy seat on the ground. After a night of drinking and nobody else to refresh his high, he must have been worn out. I sensed that a migraine must be coming on…

"HEY!"

"Ow! Man, keep it quiet… Geesh. All I wanted was some more firewater. I come all the way to Mulgore for that stuff, once a year. It's only good here."

He put a hand on his head, began to rub between his curved white horns. They looked like handles to me. That's what I told him. I quickly introduced myself as a Pathfinder hunting for the missing Greatfather Winter, on behalf of Chief Baine no less, and then I threatened to grab those handle-bar horns and make his headache so much worse if he didn't cooperate.

"Tell me, what did those Elves say last night?"

"They were just happy. I made them all happy with the firewater. Eheh… they were such lightweights."

"Yeah? What were they so happy about? Did they toast anything? Anything besides the holiday? They must have been celebrating something."

"Eh… uh…"

"We're close enough for me to toss you off the side of the bluff, by those horns. And I'm about quick enough to do it before the Bluffwatchers can stop me. How many messes did you create last night? Giving the Blood Elf women a hard time, hassling the customers?" I shouted at him, "Drunk and disorderly?!"

"Alright! Man, jus… just… the season. 'Happy Winter's Veil!' That's what they said over and over."

"Nothing else? Nobody gossiped? Nobody tried any stunts so far away from home, or let loose some steam about how much they secretly hate Kael'thas?"

"Well, after they got drunk, then they got mad."

This was taking forever, and he was not catching on, at all. "Mad about…?"

"They were mad that the Night Elves accused them. They all wanted to take a piece out of that… Ass… Al-ass…"

"Alessandre."

"Yeah, him. Big Night Elf… Said they saw him." He waggled his big fingers, mimicking a ghost and making howling noises to go with it. I asked him to please stop.

"When did they see him—"

"Shadowmelded! Alessandre was sneaky, shadowmelding and stealthing all over the place. Like a ghost. Haha! They were tired of him messing with them."

Well, kodo shit.

"Hey, you know, I also saw Chief Baine and your pretty friend all cuddly in the corner last night, too. Then they ran upstairs together—"

"Saw Alessandre? When? Here?" But I was asking the obvious. I tried to hide my fear, that someone like that might be waltzing around Thunderbluff, invisible. I guessed Saturna's arrogant underlings didn't tell her everything. They probably assumed they were protecting their queen from it and could just handle a lone Night Elf rogue themselves. A royally stupid move.

I'd have to whisper something to one of the Bluffwatchers on my way out. If those Bloodknights were still drunk and passed out in their rooms, then they were better off if I didn't wake them up. At least they'd stay out of the way.

I tried to remain focused on the investigation itself, "Did those Blood Elves say anything about the holiday, though? About Greatfather Winter?"

My spotted friend with a headache shrugged.

I would have enough time to interview Saturna's Bloodknights one-on-one, later. Saturna would even encourage it. Well, this monk had only managed to get me more frustrated than when I started out. And now I was paranoid about a Night Elf rogue being about. A dangerous one. I thought I had left all that behind me, in Ashenvale.

Might as well also ask, "And one last thing. What did you see on the night Greatfather Winter was taken? I'm asking everyone on the bluff, if I can."

The monk sat there, staring. He was going to pass out any moment, I could tell. I took a few irked steps back. I had other places to be. A Tauren Pathfinder gathers no moss, man!

But here's a lesson. Patience is also the greatest friend of any Pathfinder.

"…It had horns."

"What did?"

"The lightning came for the horns. It was so terrible. Those got hit first. These two threads, like this… fizzz pop-pop! Then I heard it frying, I could even smell it. Everyone was blinded by the flash, so bright. Nobody else saw what I did. But I guess I was drunk, so I was looking right at it, I didn't care. I felt better later, well only a little better, if I'm being honest…"

My pulse raced, "Why? What made you feel better? What did you see that got struck by lightning during that snow storm?"

"It was a Blood Elf."

I rolled my eyes, for the umpteenth time that day.

"A Blood Elf with horns. It wasn't a Tauren. That made me feel better, a little. Is that bad? Am I a horrible person? The Blood Elves are our allies after all…"

I concluded, "And then you never stopped drinking, because of what you saw."

The monk slumped over, truly sad. "She screamed like a banshee and it was so horrible. I never want to see something like that again. Lightning right through her poor skull."

A she?

She might not be Nathanos nor Gallywix. But she might be working for either of them… some hired Demon Hunter, then? Though, a Blood Elf Demon Hunter might also work for Saturna. And the Demon Hunters all had a direct connection to Kael'thas, through Illidan and their work in Outland. Well, unless this monk guy was just full of foolishness as well as firewater.

I wanted to ask more, but this guy was fast asleep by the time I worked the many leads out in my mind.

I kicked him, just a hard nudge. I was about to do it a few more times, but the Bluffwatchers were… watching, and contrary to my previous threat, I didn't really want to throw another Tauren off the side of the bluff. Not if I could help it. I left it at that.

"Turaho Runestalker…"

I turned back. The monk's eyes were on me again. Green magic wafted from them.

"Heh. Some trick." But I did not remember introducing myself to this punk-monk. I also did not know monks had this kind of… power.

"Watch yourself." And he smiled as sage and sane as anything. The sloven drunkenness had completely left him. I knew then that a powerful spirit possessed him now. Maybe it was the real reason why he drank, why he made a yearly pilgrimage to Mulgore in order to get himself that drunk? Possession can do that to a person. You know, I used to wonder whether Sylvanas was actually possessed, because, to me, she seemed to swing from being heroic (albeit a dark hero) in some situations, over to playing a nasty piece of work on other days.

That was a shock. I didn't expect to feel sorry for the guy.

I stayed calm, as I know you should do around angry spirits. They feed off fear. Dogs, too. Possibly also Sylvanas, "What do I watch out for? Who, or what, is coming for me?"

"A man with many heads. One in Stormwind. One in Darnassus. One in Silvermoon. One in Mulgore. The fifth head… is in your mind."

This was making my fur stand on end, but it was also starting to feel strangely familiar. Like something I'd read about or seen once… In the end, the Alliance cities being mentioned? That gave the game away.

I made my voice strong, "If this man is really so great, he would know where Greatfather is already. Does he?" I laughed, "Because if he doesn't, for all his dark accolades, he isn't worth a pile of kodo biscuits."

Green magic hissed in thin flames up along the monk's sleeves, raced up to the tips of his horns. Tauren around us began to gasp and stare.

I counted, "Three… two… one…"

Thunk. The spell done, the monk hit the floor and passed out. His loud snoring soon put everyone back at ease.

One of the Bluffwatchers jogged over and stood beside me. She swiped her reddish tail with worry, "Is everything really alright? Should we drag him away, or lock him up safe, perhaps? Maybe we should fetch a priest—"

"Eh, he just needs to sleep it off."

She shook her head at me, amazed, "…But how did you do that?"

I only explained that I was working for Chief Baine and there was a dangerous Night Elf rogue about. I asked her to go directly to Baine and say I sent her to do it. The young Bluffwatcher looked excited about the prospect of meeting Baine himself, especially for some important assignment. But I couldn't stop thinking about whatever silly, scandalous situation Baine had stupidly gotten himself involved in with the Queen of Quel'thalas, and Kael'thas shouting at them through the scrying orb. Baine was not as impressive to me at the moment.

Once the crowd melted away, I was again alone, "The real question is, why is a Night Elf rogue so into Draenei prophecy? And how did he come to master an old Twilight Cultist spell? And he would go through all that just for his personal amusement?"

Because I'd had to put up with those guys, too. Twilight Cultists were in Thousand Needles, Ashenvale and pretty much everywhere else. I always thought the Night Elves were fundamentally opposed to that cult. So what was the connection? I hoped the Twilight Cultists didn't also want a piece of Greatfather Winter? It seemed too far-fetched, even for them. Again, what would their motivation be? Twlight Cultists were interested in the old gods, in dark power. Greatfather Winter was neither of those things.

Triumvir Rogue Alessandre… Yes, Saturna had warned me, but she had barely scratched the surface. To go that far, even as a Night Elf, he was particularly dark.

I didn't need the whole ghost-voice thing explained to me in the end. I knew. I always trusted my instinct. I was being warned off of Alessandre's turf. I wondered if that meant he knew Saturna had already cautioned me. It was the only way I would truly get that threat, if Alessandre knew that Saturna had confided in me. Especially with the Alliance cities being mentioned and all. Had Alessandre been following us, then, listening to everything? The whole thing?

Slowly, Tauren got back to chatting with friends, going about their errands. The local blacksmith's hammer pounded rhythmically, fixing dents in an old shield. It was sad in a way, how well we'd become used to strange, sinister magic in our part of the world. It was enough to make a Tauren feel jaded about the way the Horde is going. Wait, I was already jaded.

And here's why. Strange crap just won't leave us alone… The voice rasped again, shocking even the most complacent of us, "THE SIXTH HEAD IS THE HEAD OF A MURDERER!"

I had to blink. The drunk monk was still out cold. I saw the body lying there, not moving, not saying anything. I yelled for people to get back, and we did. The Bluffwatchers ran out and helped, giving orders to give the drunk a wide berth. We all waited for a while, but nothing else seemed to be going down. Maybe this Alessandre fellow just got impatient. He was probably pissed that I didn't spook the way he wanted me to. But then, he'd used the cultist spell… and then also managed a spooky god-voice without having to rely on it? How many weird, freaky powers did this guy have? It was like he collected them, some kind of 'freaky weird power snob' who only liked to use some god-voices in certain situations… trying to think through all that was making my head hurt.

I simply had to shake myself out of it and accept that this proved Saturna's theories about Alessandre. Yes, things were this bad. And, he was here in Thunderbluff.

What next? I couldn't be a one-man army about this. I quickly deduced that Saturna would be fine. Other than being the Bloodknight Matriarch herself (and that did mean something), she was surrounded by people and had many guards either upstairs in the inn, sleeping. Or, there were Bluffwatchers assigned to watch the queen's every move. Baine was not going to make the same mistake with an important guest in Thunderbluff, twice.

And if Alessandre had wanted her, he would have got her already, right? I calmed, made myself think it all the way through. Alessandre clearly felt too much was at stake, politically, if he committed an act of war on Silvermoon and the Horde on his own. And the same went for Chief Baine.

So, our Blood Elf guests and our chief should be alright. Then, with real discomfort, I recognized that the only other vulnerable person in this situation was me. In comparison, on the scale of queens of Silvermoon and triumvir rogues of Darnassus, I was a nobody. A lowly Tauren Pathfinder could get picked off at any time. And all my best gear was back at the hut. I hadn't wanted to tow it, and everything else I would need for my Sunwalker initiation, around all day. A bad, bad mistake.

So… as for me? Before I left Thunderbluff, I bought myself a gun.