*Stormshield- within the Alliance prison hold*
The orc
hung from chains, the metal links looping up to the ceiling and through rings
before coming back down to the sides of the room where they were anchored on
the stone floor. Tightened just enough to keep his arms arced above his head
and his legs painfully stretched, he’d been suspended this way each time the
Alliance captain that was overseeing his questioning had come for one of her
sessions. Stripped to his loincloth, he was purposely left vulnerable so that
he’d be more inclined to talk. Sometimes they left him in that position for
hours afterwards, and his weary, battle-hardened form ached both from the
current tortures and the memories of his great many battles and victories past.
“You’ll
talk eventually, orc pig,” the blonde human said to him with a smirk. “You can’t
hold out forever, and eventually you’ll divulge all of the information we want
to know, from your troop strengths to your logistics and battle plans.”
She’d
been at it for hours, and Morgaath Bloodmoon had said not a word to her. Just
like every time before that. If she thought to break him by making him
uncomfortable and applying what she thought was torture, then she was sadly
mistaken. Morgaath was a general, a leader of a clan or orcs and he would
rather die than surrender his honor in such a way. He tilted his head up,
spitting on the floor near her feet.
She
scowled at him, shaking her head, “So be it. I’ll be back tomorrow, and the day
after that, and the days to come until you decide to talk or die. You’re never
leaving this place again, so I suggest you think about what is going to happen
to you in the years to come.”
As she
left, Morgaath stared at her back with a scowl of hatred; regardless of what
she said, he would never submit to the likes of her. Deep inside though he did
have to admit one thing, without proper food, exercise, and sunlight he was
slowly wasting away. He’d lost many pounds already, and felt an unfamiliar
weakness in his body. Although his will would never break, eventually his body
would and he would die here, hanging from these chains. It was only a matter of
time, and time was not on his side.
He
could only hope that his allies remembered him and were trying to do something
about his predicament before it was too late….
*****************************************************************************
*Tanaan Jungle, the outer shores of the region. Midnight. *
Andithiel
frowned with impatience; the night was wearing on and they were running out of
time to complete their mission. Already Kyliska was an hour and a half late and
had sent no word to him about what was causing the delay. If she was more than
another hour or two late they would have to abort the mission and return to
Quel’Thalas for re-supply.
He and
his rangers had been hidden in the jungle for over a week now, making their way
to the outer shore to find a suitable crossing point. The plan was for Kyliska
to meet them with the rest of her men, particularly her Blood Knights, at the
selected crossing site. Kyli would arrive by boat as her men were ill suited to
make their way through the jungle. By dividing their forces, the Alliance would
think Kyli’s men were just heading into the jungle to launch an attack, and
Andithiel’s men were few enough in number to slip through the Iron (or Fel?)
Horde and make it to the rendezvous site. The plan was working perfectly, if
not for Kyliska’s inexplicable delay.
After
another twenty minutes of waiting and having his patience worn down to the very
end, he finally spotted the site of small landing craft moving quietly through
the waters between Tanaan and the Alliance stronghold of Stormshield. Here at
last was Kyliska and the rest of the attacking forces, and they could proceed
with their mission to rescue General Morgaath from his imprisonment.
As
Kyliska made her way ashore, Andithiel knew immediately that there was
something wrong with her. She looked worn and haggard, as if she’d not slept in
days. Her eyes were bloodshot and he’d come to recognize the look she bore as
one of a person who has spent the last several days drunk, angry, and upset. He
raised a hand to greet her, rising from the bushes and got only a half-hearted
response as she quietly ordered her men off the boats.
“Kyliska!
What took you so long? I was beginning to think we’d have to call the entire
mission off,” Andithiel said, actual concern in his voice. “Are you alright?”
“I’m
fine,” Kyliska said, her voice rather waspish.
Andithiel
had been around women, particularly Kyliska and his own sisters, long enough to
know that her ‘fine’ meant anything but fine. He frowned, studying her sloppy looking
armor and messy hair for a moment before pressing the matter gently, “Are you
sure? We can launch the attack another evening if you need to. We can find a
place to hide our encampment. I know we’ve not always been on the best of terms
but…I know when you are hurting. If you can’t do this tonight, say the word.
The General will live for another day I’m sure.”
To
Andithiel’s surprise, Kyliska leaned against him, burying her face against his
shoulder. Tears ran down her face and he awkwardly wrapped his arm around her
to comfort her, thankful that the darkness concealed her issues from the men
who were busy preparing for the assault all around her. When she spoke, her
voice was broken, “Oh Andi…it’s…my sis- Biara. I can’t…she’s betrayed me. I can’t
talk about it, I’m not supposed to but…I feel like my heart’s been torn out,
like I have no one now.”
The
news shocked Andithiel; Biara had always been a loyal member of House Sunfire.
He filed the information away in the back of his mind, realizing that Kyliska
needed his support, “It’s…it’s okay, Kyli. I won’t tell anyone. And you’re not
alone. You have me here. And the rest of the family. You’ll never be alone,
okay? I’ll always be by your side.”
Kyliska
sniffled once more and then looked up at him, nodding glumly, “Thank you, Andi.
I’m sorry. I know this is the worst time for this…we need to get started or we’ll
run out of time.”
Andithiel
studied her for a moment and then nodded. Although she wasn’t in the best
condition, they would not get another opportunity to do this and all of their
forces were in place. He gave her shoulder a squeeze as best he could through
her armor and then signaled to his own rangers. They emerged from the jungle
line and quickly he gathered them around, beginning to detail the plans to them
and to Kyliska’s Blood knights.
This
night General Morgaath Bloodmoon would walk free, or they would die trying.
Honor demanded no less.
*********************************************************************
Everything
had been going according to plan, and the small Horde raiding force had made
their way across a group of atolls until they reached Stormshield’s main
landmass. Rather than attack across Ashran, they knew that their best bet would
be to sneak into the fortification’s battlements in the night from a direction
the Alliance would not be looking.
At the
base of the cliff upon which Stormshield’s prison hold sat, they carefully made
their way through the scrub brushes and small bits of cover that would obscure
them from sight. The crashing of the waves against the island covered any small
sounds they would make, and it looked like all of the careful planning would
pan out. At the head of the group, Andithiel spotted something in the darkness
ahead and signaled behind him. Instantly, all of the Sin’dorei that had been
moving dropped down and took cover, no one daring to breathe.
Ahead
of them on the shore, three nightsabers patrolled, the giant cats ridden by
Night Elven Sentinels. The elves chatted amongst themselves, their cats padding
through the soft sand as they continued along their patrol route; it was clear
that the Alliance expected little in the way of an assault from the ocean,
although they’d taken enough precautions to deploy Night Elves in the dark of
night. The larger elves could see quite well in the darkness, and it put
Andithiel’s and Kyliska’s men at a disadvantage. Fortunately, it looked as if
the patrol was heading in the opposite direction, and would soon be out of
sight, allowing them to continue on their way. Andithiel breathed a sigh of relief
until he heard a barely suppressed grunt of rage coming from behind him.
As he
turned, it was all he could do to fall back on his haunches as Kyliska rose up
from her hiding spot, a naked blade in her hand gleaming in the moonlight. In
the most un-stealthy manner possible, she screamed at the top of her lungs, lunging
across the sands in the blink of an eye.
The
first Sentinel died before she knew what hit her, Kyliska’s sword plunging into
her side and killing her instantly. Her nightsaber growled, but without
direction from its rider it quickly moved out of position, trying to escape the
attacker on its side. The second Sentinel got her glaive up in time to block
Kyliska’s first blow, the sound of metal clashing on metal ringing out. Kyliska
screamed at the top of her lungs, bringing her sword down again and again, “FUCKING
DIE NIGHT ELF BITCH! DIE DIE DIE!”
Eventually
Kyliska’s raging blows broke through the Night Elf’s defenses and she fell from
her saddle, quite dead. Her nightsaber turned on Kyliska and died when an arrow
struck it in the eye from Andithiel’s bow. Behind them, the rangers and Blood
Knights surged forwards, trying to support the unexpected and wild attack
Kyliska had started.
Unfortunately
for the group, the third Sentinel realized what was going on and, being the
furthest away, spurred her nightsaber into a dash. While she fled, she brought
a horn to her lips, signaling the alarm. Andithiel felt his heart sink as the
clear note of the elven horn carried into the night and other horns took up the
call higher up the hill.
The
plan had failed utterly, thanks to a reckless attack by Kyliska that made
absolutely no sense to him…
**************************************************************************
*Eldre’Thalas- within Biara’s sanctum*
Biara
stirred slowly from her slumber, a tinkling noise of magic coming to her
through her sleep. Silver eyes opened slowly, taking in her surroundings. She
was laying on her large bed, deep within the depths of Eldre’Thalas. Her
sanctum there had been sealed away for centuries, the magical wards she’d
placed on it keeping it safe from prying eyes. It had provided the perfect
place to use as a safe haven as she planned her next steps.
As her
vision came into focus, she took in the form of the elf that was lying in bed
next to her. Soft purple skin was covered by silken sheets, the elf’s long,
cyan colored hair released from its twin pigtails and splayed out over the bed.
Malandrae Moonwhisper slept soundly on her belly, the wounds on her back too
painful to allow her to lay that way just yet.
Biara
lay there for a moment, watching her best friend slumber. She reached out, her
hand touching Malandrae’s gently. The other elf slept on, as she had been doing
for several days now. Her wounds had been severe and exhaustion had claimed
her. Biara spent much of her time watching over the poor thing. The tinkling
noise of magic came again and Biara’s head came up. She saw a small arcane
familiar floating in the air beside the bed and frowned.
Slowly
so as not to disturb her sleeping friend, Biara rose from the bed,
straightening out her robes and following the arcane familiar as it darted like
a wisp through her sanctum. She trailed after it, heading into a circular
chamber in the center of her little safe hold where she’d set up a scrying orb.
She approached it, knowing that the familiar would only have come to her if
there was an issue with one of the things she had instructed it to observe.
With a quick gesture she brought the magic in the orb to life, her gaze taking
in the vision before her.
Kyliska
and Andithiel fought a bloody battle on a beach near the Alliance stronghold of
Stormshield. For a moment Biara found this surprising until she recalled the
hastily planned mission to rescue General Bloodmoon. As Biara watched, the tiny
figures within the orb dance and twirled in battle, blood staining the sands as
more and more Alliance forces arrived to reinforce the defenders. In the middle
of it all, Kyliska raged, her sword slick with the dark blood of Kaldorei, her
attacks reckless as she dove into a group of Sentinels, mercilessly hacking at
them and then hacking at their corpses when they fell.
Sadness
passed over Biara; she knew exactly why Kyliska was risking herself in such a
manner. She was taking out her anger on people who had nothing to do with the
true reason why she was hurting. Worse, the rescue plan had clearly failed;
House Sunfire’s forces would be hurled back into the sea before too long.
General Morgaath would remain a prisoner forever. Unless…
Biara
spoke a few soft words, the vision in her scrying orb changing and showing her
other scenes. Scenes within the prison hold itself. A smile passed across her
pale purple lips as a plan began to form.
******************************************************************************
*Within the prison cell*
The
door to the cell opened slowly, the hinges squealing as they always did.
Morgaath was startled from a half-doze, his head coming up in surprise as the
door opened wide enough to admit the blonde-haired captain again. She turned,
closing the door firmly behind her before walking slowly into the room.
Morgaath immediately felt himself on edge; this was highly unusual. The human
woman had never returned to question him twice in one day. She always usually
had guards stationed outside the door when she came in and she certainly never
walked in without some sort of snide remark.
Instead,
the blonde human walked slowly to the middle of the room, looking up at him
with some hint of sadness in her blue eyes, a frown crossing over her features.
When she spoke, it was with the captain’s voice, but the words, spoken in
perfect orcish, were so wrong that Morgaath felt a chill up his spine. “General
Bloodmoon, it pains me to see you like this.”
For a
moment, Morgaath simply stared at the woman as if she’d grown two heads. His
mouth opened and closed for a minute before he actually responded, “You put me in this position. What kind of
trickery is this? Do you think your sympathy will loosen my tongue?”
The
woman blinked for a minute and then smiled, snapping her fingers. “Oh, that’s
right. Pardon me.” She spoke a soft word and magic flared in the room. The
woman’s features began to run, her face changing and elongating a little. Her
hair turned red as if it had burst into flames, her eyes glowing with a faint
green hue. After a moment more, the human captain was gone, and Biara Dayfire
stood in the room before him.
For a moment Morgaath said nothing,
studying the elven form and trying to determine if this was some new trick.
There was something not entirely right about the elf, and after a moment
Morgaath realized what it was; she was missing the glowing wards on her face.
In their place, a faint scar marred her right cheek just beneath the eye. He
glared at her critically, his voice like gravel, “How do I know this isn’t a
trap?”
“The only ‘trap’ you have
experienced, General, is in believing that the rest of your allies were clever
enough to overcome the defenses of this prison. Fortunately, their failure has
allowed me an ideal opportunity to slip in and complete the task,” Biara said.
Even as she spoke, she began to
move, her hands coming up in the workings of a spell. Silently the base of the
chains that held Morgaath up froze and then shattered, and he sighed with
relief as his arm was finally freed from the awkward position. He slumped
forward as Biara freed his other arm, nearly falling as his legs were almost
too weak to support his weight. She came forward towards him to support him,
and his arms shot out, his hands wrapping around her neck suddenly.
“How do I know that when I walk out
this door, an ambush isn’t waiting for me?” Morgaath demanded angrily. “I will
not be a patsy to some Alliance trick!”
Biara met his gaze evenly, her tone
neutral, “If this were a trap, would I have put myself within your reach?
Besides, you will not be walking out, I will be opening a portal for you. Release
me so that I can do so.”
Morgaath stared at her for several
long moments before finally nodding and releasing his grip. She rubbed her neck
for a moment, offering him a smile, “I also need to ask something of you,
General.”
“This is hardly the time or place-“
Morgaath began.
“This is the only time I have,”
Biara interrupted. “I need you to swear something to me before you leave. Swear
on your honor. Consider it a favor after I have rescued you here.”
“I’ve little time for your word
games, Biara,” Morgaath stated evenly. “State your purpose clearly and I will
judge if it is worthy of any oath.”
Biara nodded, “Very well General.
It is only this; I wish you to watch over my sister, Kyliska. Protect her, both
from her enemies and from herself. I…cannot go with you. I have things I must
attend to and I will worry over her endlessly. Knowing that you will remain her
ally, that you will be there should she and the Horde need you, will be an
immense comfort to me in the days to come.”
Morgaath paused for several long
moments, considering the words. He did not give his oath lightly, and when he
did he upheld it to the very end. What Biara was asking was not too far-fetched
however; it was simply to agree to protect another member of the Horde;
something he would do anyway. He could look in on the younger Sunfire sister
now and then, and she and Selenthiel had always been good allies. Finally, he
nodded slowly, his tone stern, “I can agree to this. You have my oath that
Kyliska will have my support.”
Biara breathed a sigh of relief, as
if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. She smiled at Morgaath and
nodded, “Thank you. It means everything to me to know that you will be there
for her. Now I think it is more than beyond time for you to get home, General.
I’m going to open a portal down to the beach below, where the rest of your
allies are fighting. They will have the means to extract you. I wish you luck,
and honor in battle.”
Her hands came up and a hole was
torn open in the center of the prison cell, the portal glimmering and
portending Morgaath’s coming freedom. He gave her one last long look before
nodding, “Honor in battle to you as well, Magistrix.”
With that, Morgaath stepped through
the portal and was gone. After it closed, Biara smiled, her features beginning
to run again as she shed the disguise she’d kept for hundreds of years. A
moment later a Highborne stood where she’d stood, her long silver hair
partially covering half of her face, the pained expression there softening with
a slight feeling of relief. A wicked smile parted her purple lips as her hands
came up again, another spell beginning to build.
A few moments later the cell where
Morgaath Bloodmoon was hiding would detonate with the force of a powerful
blast, sending the defenders into chaos as they raced to see if their
stronghold had been infiltrated from within. They would find no trace of their
orc prisoner, their guard captain, or any elves who may or may not have been
there.
****************************************************************************
On the
beach, Andithiel was beginning to panic. Against all rational thought, Kyliska
had continued to dive into what had become a massive pitched battle with the
Alliance forces. Wherever there were Night Elves, she dove into the fray like
some sort of beast, and it was all he could do to keep their lines firm as the
onslaught continued.
The air
beside him shimmered and his eyes widened as a portal opened beside him. From
it came the figure of an old orc, his body marked with the wounds of his
captivity and wearing little more than a loincloth and a grin. Andithiel
blinked in surprise as the orc roared, “I’m free you bastards! You’ll never
take me alive again!”
“G-general…Bloodmoon?”
Andithiel managed to sputter out.
“In the
flesh,” Morgaath replied with a toothy grin. “I see you’ve got yourself quite
the battle here.”
“Unfortunately
so, General,” Andithiel replied. “But with you free, we can get out of here
before we lose too many more men.”
“Just
so,” Morgaath said, his eyes scanning over the battlefield. They widened when
he saw a few of the Sin’dorei in the middle of battle. “Quick, I need a sword
or an ax!”
Andithiel
blinked in surprise, handing Morgaath his own sword as he brought his other
hand up, sending a magical signal through an amulet he wore. Far away, back in
Quel’Thalas, Tyavel would receive the signal and begin opening the evacuation
portals near Andithiel’s position. As he turned to gaze at the battle, he saw
Morgaath wading into the fray, the sword slaughtering Night Elves left and
right around him. He made it to the thickest part of the fighting before
plunging his sword into a Sentinel Captain’s chest, letting the weapon fall
away before stooping down to retrieve something.
Behind
Andithiel, portals began to burst open as Tyavel’s magi opened up the escape
route. Morgaath waded back from the battle even as Andithiel’s rangers began to
sound the retreat. To Andithiel’s ever-lasting surprise, he saw that Morgaath
held Kyliska’s unconscious form in his arms, her body ravaged with numerous
small wounds but her chest rising and falling regularly showing that she still
lived.
Andithiel
breathed a small sigh of relief, waving his men on. Morgaath darted past him
and into one of the waiting portals, more rangers and Blood Knights following.
Within moments the Horde raiders had fallen back upon the portals, and the
Alliance defenders were hesitant to follow them given the number of casualties
they had already suffered. Andithiel turned, the last of his men to leave, his
heart heavy with the number of still forms they were leaving behind on the
beach. So many lost, and all for a single General. Hopefully Morgaath would
prove to be worth the effort in the days to come, but given his demonstration
of ferocity even after being a captive, it seemed likely that would be the
case.
Andithiel
sighed again, stepping through the portal and disappearing, leaving the bloody
sands behind as the Horde raid retreated back to friendly territory, triumphant
in the end.
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