Fel Eyes

House Dawnsea Pandarian Expedition Command

Krasarang

Pre-Dawn

“Gather around the map table everyone, let's go!” the Scout Captain bellowed. The small encampment instantly stirred, Sin'dorei rangers responding to the words immediately and jumping to their feet, hurrying to stand before the small table and the magical lantern that illuminated it. The Captain nodded as the nine elves gathered, stabbing a finger down towards a spot on the map.

“We have ourselves a situation here,” he began, retracting his hand and folding them both behind his back. He began to pace as he spoke. “Approximately eight hours ago a Horde lumber party was ambushed in this part of Krasarang. They were hit by surprise near the ruins I've circled on the map. Only a few made it back to report in, and it looks like we've got a Mogu slaver group running out of that location.”

He paused, looking each of the Sin'dorei in the eyes, as if measuring their mettle, “I know some of you have newly signed on with House Dawnsea's rangers. Today you'll be proving yourself. In a quarter hour we're going to move on this position and liberate any of the lumber party who have been captured. There are three ravines leading up into the ruins, and we'll be taking advantage of them to ascend out of the jungle. Memorize the map, get your kit, and get ready to go. Dismissed.”

Of all the unexpected things that could happen, a hand shot up from amongst the rangers. The Captain's eyebrows rose so rapidly one might think they would jump off of his face as he stared down the elf that was still holding her hand up. One of the new recruits, she didn't quite fit in with the others with her faded leather garb and her lack of any red and gold to denote her place amongst the Sin'dorei. The Captain signed and nodded, “Yes Recruit Summerglade, what is it?”

Tylirel had meant to launch into a detailed explanation of why the plan he'd just presented was not a good idea, but the minute the Captain and the other eight rangers began to focus on her, she felt a panic setting in. Unused to having so many people looking at her, unaccustomed to speaking in front of people, and especially nervous about talking about something Really Important, Tylirel could almost feel her vocal chords retracting in protest, “Eeee...I-I...that i-is...um...d-don't you think t-that maybe we should um. You see, the M-mogu would be expecting....I-I...”

She paused, shifting nervously from one foot to another as several of the other rangers began to smirk and the Captain began to glare. In a rush of breath, she blurted out what she meant to say somewhat inelegantly, “I-I think that w-would be walking right into an ambush! We s-should use the jungle. S-sir...”

She fell silent, biting her lip and looking anywhere but at the people staring at her. It was fine when she knew she wouldn't have to speak to people for long, but this conversation with those whom she was going to be working with for the long term was terribly nerve-wracking. Even as the thought passed through her mind she felt her spirits sink when the Captain began to laugh.

“Why don't you leave the strategical planning to me, Summerglade? I've been doing this for quite some time you know,” he said condescendingly. Several of the other elves snickered and Tylirel could feel herself turning beet red. The Captain waved a hand at them, “Besides, the jungle is completely impassible. Now then, go and get ready. We leave in a quarter hour before the sun rises.”

The rangers all turned, heading into the camp and dousing the fire as they prepared themselves. Bows were strung, arrows were readied, and generally the preparations went on without any conversation. Tylirel preferred the silence, working swiftly to tighten straps on her armor, preparing her sheaths for quick release of her daggers, and ensuring her bootlaces were tight. After she'd finished, she walked over to where the fire had been doused, kneeling down before it. She gently scooped the ash into her hands, coating her fingers before bringing them up to her face. She began to rub the ash in everywhere, blackening her pink skin.

“What are you DOING?” a voice interrupted. Tylirel paused, looking up to see another elf standing over her. She smiled, her white teeth glinting in the blackness of her soot-covered face, “I'm getting ready! You want some?”

The elf crinkled her nose, shaking her head, “Um no? That's going to stain your skin for days. And....fel are you putting that in your HAIR too?”

And indeed Tylirel was, her hands running through her red locks and coating everything with a fine black ash. Although she could not completely dull the bright red color, she at least made the strands blend in with the local floral colors. She looked at the other elf and shrugged, “Sure, why not? Better that than being seen don't you think?”

The other elf sneered and turned, stalking away to gather up her weapons. It was clear that she did NOT think it was a good idea. Tylirel shrugged again, smearing more soot on her face and smiling, “I think it's fun...”

Minutes later they were moving in groups of three, the Captain with the lead squad as they headed into the jungle.

Fifteen minutes later Tylirel was gone, having disappeared unnoticed sometime during the trek.

Twenty-five minutes later disaster struck as the Mogu sprang their ambush.

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For Ranger Lilliela Daywhisper the world had contracted into a very narrow range of senses that went from minor dull aches to mind-numbing agony. As one of the agonizing waves passed over her, she gasped and grit her teeth. She shook her head, trying to get through it as best as she could, her fingers digging into the soil beneath her.

She was on her hands and knees, trapped on a magical rune that had been cast on the ground. Around her, she could see the others in a similar position, their bodies contorting as the waves of agony rolled over them. The runes were of Mogu design, intended to inflict pain endlessly for hours or even days, breaking down the will of the trapped victims so that they would make more pliable slaves. After having been trapped in the rune for only an hour Lilliela could understand how such a tactic would work. Within a day's time they would all be begging to be free of the agony, eager to do anything the Mogu commanded if only for a few moments of peace.

She grit her teeth again as another wave of agony traveled through her body, the red haze of the magic flaring for a moment. The attack had been an utter disaster, the entire thing orchestrated by the Mogu at the most basic level. Funneled into the narrow ravines that rose into the ruins, the Sin'dorei had been struck from all sides by both Mogu and a number of magical stone constructs. It turned out that their intelligence on the camp's numbers had been only 'somewhat' accurate; there had indeed been ten Mogu as the map had indicated, but one of them was a powerful Spiritbinder of some sort and had unleashed his creations on them. Several rangers, including the Captain, had perished in the fighting, leaving the rest to be beaten into submission and placed on the runes.

Lilliela sighed in despair, looking around at the other captives. Six of them were left now of the original ten. Other runes held additional prisoners the Mogu had captured and were preparing for hard labor. There was little any of them could do now but endure and hope that somehow they would be rescued in time. Given that the Spiritbinder appeared to be preparing a small space in the middle of the ruins for a spell, she suspected they had limited time before they were dragged off through a portal to some hellish fate somewhere.

She sighed again, looking away from the depressing sight of her imprisoned companions, her eyes drifting to the impenetrable wall of jungle foliage around the ruins. As her gaze drifted over the dense, lush plant life, her wandering gaze abruptly came to a halt.

Two fel green eyes stared out at her from amongst the branches, seemingly floating in the sea of greenery.

Lilliela shook her head, blinking to clear her sight. When she did so, the eyes were gone and she sighed again, thinking it a figment of her imagination. She nearly shrieked aloud when a voice spoke up almost directly next to her, “Hi! Are you alright? That looks like some pretty nasty spell there...”

Her head whirled around to find Tylirel Summerglade crouched down just outside of the rune holding her in place, the soot-covered ranger studying the magic curiously. With wide eyes, Lilliela quickly whispered, “You have to get out of here! Go back and warn the rest of the expeditionary force. Tell them we're trapped here and we need help! Hurry before they transport us!”

Tylirel frowned, biting her lip. She reached out towards the other elf, sticking her hand on the ward before Lilliela could stop her. With a gasp the red-headed ranger jerked her hand back, shaking her head and sucking on her fingertips as if they'd been burned, “Ow! That really hurts! I've got to get you all out of this. I bet the one casting the spells over in the center of camp is responsible. Don't worry, I'll have you free in a moment!”

Lilliela felt panic setting in and she hissed at the other ranger, “No you idiot! You need to escape and get help! There's ten of them and one of them can command stone creatures! Flee and get help!”

Tylirel smiled at the other ranger and shook her head, “No, I can't leave you like this. Don't worry, I've got this. I promise! Cross my heart!”

Lilliela would have screamed if she didn't know it would attract the Mogu over. She closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath and prepared to deliver the tongue-lashing of a lifetime. When she opened her eyes, Tylirel was gone.

“We're doomed...” came the despairing ranger's whisper. She hung her head before turning to look back towards the camp. Mogu patrolled the area relentlessly, the Spellbinder in the center of the camp preparing his magic. Even as Lilliela watched, one of the Mogu on the edge of the camp slumped forward, gently easing towards the ground as if he were sleeping. One of her eyebrows shot up as she pondered why this would be the case, and one of the other Mogu wandered towards his companion, uttering something she couldn't hear.

She didn't need to hear what happened next. As the Mogu shook his companion and got no response, he flipped the 'sleeping' sentry over only to discover his throat had been completely carved out. Instantly he roared an alarm, alerting the other Mogu in the camp. They rushed to draw their weapons, scanning the surrounding jungle for whatever enemy had killed their companion. In the center of the camp, the Spellbinder rose, glaring at the commotion.

It was then that a strange smoke began to drift from the edge of the jungle.

The Spellbinder growled and pointed, sending two of the Mogu towards the disturbance. They approached cautiously, weapons drawn as they eased into the smoke. For a moment the camp was utterly silent except for the gasping of tormented prisoners. The silence was abruptly shattered by the howls of Mogu emanating from the smoke cloud. The howls and screaming were punctuated by the sound of metal on metal and then abruptly silence fell over the camp again. Lilliela noted that not once had she heard the sound of a Sin'dorei crying out in pain during whatever struggle had occurred.

In the center of the camp the Spiritbinder began to chant, magic flowing from his clawed hands. Around the ruins stone statues began to stir, the ancient guardians coming to life and bounding towards their master. These were the same creatures that had turned the tide on the rangers to begin with, and Lilliela shuddered as she watched a dozen of them make their way into the edge of the jungle, followed by several more Mogu.

The Spiritbinder laughed, walking towards the captured slaves, his tone mocking as his voice bellowed out amongst them, “Surrender any hope of rescue! None can stand against my creations, and to believe that you will be allowed freedom is folly! You serve us now! You are honored to be amongst the first wave of slaves to help rebuild our glorious empire! Upon your bones will rest the foundations of our great nation, as worthless as you might be!”

As he spoke, he walked past each of the trapped prisoners, applying magic and making them cry out in agony, laughing at their torment. He continued to lambast them, even as Mogu stalked the jungle around the camp, looking for the intruder. Finally he stood over Lilliela, his form towering over her kneeling body.

“You will submit to us supplicant! There is nothing more to your life than servitude! You will tell me that you are unworthy to serve, but that you wish to submit!” Even as he spoke, she looked up at him to see magic beginning to form on his claws. Her eyes widened, not at the pain he was about to inflict, but by what else she saw in that brief moment.

In the branches of a tree that loomed over the camp, the two fel eyes hovered in the shadows, far above him.

It happened so fast that Lilliela would later have a hard time recalling it. In a blink of an eye Tylirel jumped from her perch, her body arched and two daggers held high over her head, her hair trailing out behind her like a dirty comet. The dull black metal of her weapons gave not even a hint of a reflection as she fell silently, hurtling towards the Mogu below her. He had no chance to realize his fate, no chance to turn and fight her. One moment he was gloating over his captive, and the next moment two daggers were buried to their hilt in his skull, one hitting so hard that the blade snapped off in his cranium.

Everything seemed to happen in slow motion after that. The Spiritbinder made not a sound as he crumpled to his knees and then fell on his face. Dead before he could even move, his magic began to fade almost instantly, bringing the prisoners some measure of relief as the runes holding them began to die. In the jungle beyond the camp, howls arose as the stone creatures he'd summoned also faltered before becoming statues once more.

Tylirel landed lightly on her feet beside her slain foe, a mischievous smile on her face as she whipped out another dagger. Mogu howled and charged towards her, and she began to move as if dancing with the shadows of the ruins. In the blink of an eye she leaped, landing in front of the first foe and slashing with her daggers. He desperately tried to parry, only to find her fine blades carving a gouge in his face. She spun around him, planting a dagger in his back even as she grabbed a strap of his armor and twirled his dead weight into the next attacker.

The next Mogu in line struck out, hitting the dead body of his ally rather than Tylirel, the weapon tearing from his hands and leaving him disarmed as she jumped up and jammed one of her blades in his neck, sending his lifeless body tumbling away.

Lilliela could feel the runes weakening beneath her, and she struggled to tear her hands from the ground as she watched the lithe little elf in the center of the camp continue her assault. Tylirel spun, a dagger flying from her hand and burying itself in a Mogu's eye, her feet already moving as she dodged the blow of yet another attacker. In a smooth motion she pulled a dagger from a sheath, rearming herself and slashing at the creature's arm, leaving a terrible gouge in it before spinning clear of his weapon.

And then it was over, the runes holding the slaves in place finally dissipating completely. Lilliela surged to her feet even as the others did the same around her, each of them turning to find a weapon or advancing on the remaining Mogu barehanded. The few remaining slavers were forced to turn and flee as their would-be victims hunted them down one by one, leaving none alive.

In the center of the ruined camp Tylirel paused, beginning to pull her daggers from dead Mogu. She inspected each blade, making sure it was still combat worthy before returning it to its sheath. The surviving rangers gathered around her, smiling at her and nodding their thanks. They paused as she bent over one of the fallen foes, her hands reaching out to rip a decorative necklace from the Spiritbinder's corpse.

Tylirel looked up as she pocketed the item, nodding to the other elves, “Always take something to remember the battle. It can teach you a lot! Are we done here now? What are we going to do next?”

The rangers looked at each other and shrugged; if the dirty, soot-covered Tylirel was happy it was just as well, she'd saved them after all. How she had the energy to contemplate doing anything else was beyond them though. Several of them shook their heads as they turned to walk away, gathering up their supplies and the captured Horde prisoners as they went.

Tylirel looked around the camp and nodded; she had done good work here, and soon it would return to its more natural state. Something to look forward to if she ever visited again. She looked back at her departing companions and began to hurry after them, shouting, “Guys! Wait for me!”

It would be a long trip back to camp, and an even more difficult time filing a report for the entire mission.