Fifty-Nine Days, Part Eighteen

“W-wait, how do you know my name? You look familiar, but…”

“Who do I look like?”

“I…Well…Like my momma. Her name is–”

“Lycannon.”

Kaludra blinked. “You know her?”

“I am her younger sister. My name is Luraela, and you are named after me.”

The girl clung to her stuffed elekk as she started to back away from the woman. “But you…you’re…you…”

“I am supposed to be dead?” Luraela said, and then chuckled. Her voice was in no way menacing, nor was it offensive. In fact, the huntress seemed quite calming. “Do you remember Esixa?”

“Yes.”

“And I suppose you remember what she tried to do to your mother?”

Kaludra nodded. “She wanted to kill her because of what Momma did on Draenor…when she wasn’t herself.”

Luraela nodded in turn, and then settled herself down on the floor against the wall opposite of Kaludra. The worg that had been laying at her feet wasted no time in wiggling himself into her lap, and she groaned with the weight.

This made Kaludra smile a bit. “He seems really friendly.” she said.

“He is, perhaps too friendl–ah!” Luraela was interrupted by several licks to the face. “Altair!”

Kaludra giggled, and couldn’t resist coming closer to pet the wolf. “I like his name!”

“Indeed. Esixa hired an imposter to take on my persona. She got nearly everything right, even going as far as to mimic my dialect, my mannerisms, and Altair. Of course, she took it a step further and pretended to be your mother’s child from the future.”

“I remember that,” Kaludra said, pausing to look up at Luraela, “But she didn’t look like you. Not completely.”

“She could be somewhat liberal with her appearance. My sister has not seen me since we lived on Argus, and memory fades. She used that to her advantage.”

“Ohh, I think I know what you’re saying now…But how do I know you just aren’t another pretend Luraela coming to hurt us?” Kaludra frowned, and grabbed for her elekk again.

Luraela leaned back and stretched her arms out over her wolf, knitting her fingers together at his belly. “I figured you would ask. Let me see that pendant around your neck.”

The girl blinked again, and gently pulled the necklace from her tunic. The chain dangled loosely between her fingers, with the faintly glowing, semi-circular gem hanging under her palm. Luraela reached inside her own blouse and revealed a pendant of her own; it was almost identical to the one Kaludra had around her neck, yet something was different about it.

Kaludra’s eyes grew wide. “I-I don’t understand!” she exclaimed.

“Watch.”

Luraela took the trinkets in each of her hands, and slowly touched the straight sides of the shards together. When they met, a quiet chiming sound, along with a bright glitter of light, engulfed the gems. Kaludra had to shield her eyes from the brightness, and when her eyes adjusted, she was overcome with wonder. The two pendants were now one, and it floated by itself when Luraela withdrew her fingers.

Kaludra traced a finger of her own across the chain still around her neck, and down to the newly formed relic. When she touched the thing, it chimed again. The sound was soothing, and there was a feeling of peace. “I…I don’t…”

“Our mother made one for each of us; one for your mother, and one for me. She gave them to us as reminders that although we may be broken and scattered to the wind, we are never lost. We all  meet again one day.” Luraela said, letting Kaludra watch the dancing relic a bit longer before she reached up and pulled it back into the two necklaces used to create it.

Kaludra nodded, touched by Luraela’s words. She now understood why the woman had come. “Mother is sick again. She went with a friend to try to help her overcome it.”

“I know. I am going to seek her out when I leave here, but I wanted to see you first. I needed you to know that everything will be alright, and…that you will have a visitor in a few days.”

Kaludra swallowed. “Me? A visitor? Who is it?”

Luraela shook her head and pushed the worg off of her, standing and tucking the necklace back into her clothes. “You will find out soon enough. Altair will stay with you.”

The wolf whimpered as he moved to sit in front of Kaludra, who stooped down to pat him on the head. She was slightly confused by all of this. “Okay…Be careful, Miss Luraela.”

The huntress stopped as she headed to the door, and chuckled, “Aunt Luri, dear. I am your aunt, and I love you.” She spoke quickly and stepped out just fast enough so that Kaludra couldn’t respond, but she did anyway.

“I love you too…”

Fifty-Nine Days, Part Fifteen

“So she knows, then?”

Elicoor slumped down onto his bed with a relieved groan. He was happy to finally be home. “No, she does not.”

“What do you mean? You just said that you let your tongue slip. To be honest, I am surprised you are not dead.”

“It was not what I said so much as it was my reaction to my own words. I made her suspicious. That glimmer of hope that her son may still be alive is strong, Luraela.”

She sank her hip and stood lazily, raising her brow. “And what happened?”

“I simply told her that I talk to him just as she did. That I speak to the wind, which is not entirely a lie.”

“She believed you? That’s a first…”

“She did not have a choice. Consider how ridiculous it seems that she jump at the first hint that Harpagos may be alive, when he obviously is not? She saw his corpse, saw his face. Talking her down was not a challenge, not to mention Everroot was there.”

“Perhaps that is because you know her, Elicoor.”

“Perhaps…”

The huntress crossed the floor and sat next to Elicoor, placing her hand on his shoulder. He sighed in response, and he lifted his head and stared off into the distance ahead of him. “Esixa’s cunning was underestimated. I wouldn’t doubt if she had planned her revenge on Xana for decades.” the mage rumbled.

“She nearly had everything perfect, from what I could find. The planted body, all of the connections…even that woman who pretended to be me and Xana’s child from the future,” The woman laughed, and shook her head, “Why the hell did they all believe that? Why did Xana think that person was really me?”

“Well, she has not seen you since Argus, and you were both young, not to mention how long ago that was. Apparently this imposter found something out about you that only Xana would know, and used it to her advantage.”

Luraela considered this. “Alright, and then the future rubbish? Really?”

He looked at her. “I maintain my point about Esixa.”

“Alright, fine. It still doesn’t make it any easier to approach my sister, especially if she is becoming unstable again.

“What do you think she would do, Luri?”

She scoffed. “I don’t know, rip my head off?”

“Oh, come now.” Elicoor said, chuckling.

“You think I am kidding? When she finds out Harpagos…bah…”

He sighed again, and tilted his head to watch the fire that lit the room. “Just keep taking good care of him. The druid is working on a way to stop the corruption flowing through Lycannon’s veins.”

“I hope you’re right, Elicoor. Your children’s birthday is soon. He will want to see his sister…” Luraela said, trailing off.

Fifty-Nine Days, Part Thirteen

Elicoor shook his head and then looked away. He was disgusted, but there was a hint of something else in his eyes. “Why must we return to that?” He whispered.

Kaludra followed his gaze, doing her best to not run away.

“I…am sorry. I did not mean to bring about terrible memories, but there could be more if we do not figure out a way to either rid Lady McSars of this fel corruption, or suppress it again.” Khoura averted her gaze from Lycannon, but she tilted her head just slightly in Kaludra’s direction. “She may indeed turn into a monster if we do not do something.”

Lycannon snorted, and clicked her tongue at the comment. She stamped the ground with a hoof and regarded Khoura coldly. “Do you know anyone who has had demon blood cleansed from their body?”

Khoura swallowed, and slowly met Lycannon’s gaze. “No, Lady McSars. Only…” She stopped and shook her head.

“Only what? Go on with it.” Lyc asked.

“…Grommash Hellscream.”

“Even more ridiculous. He ended the blood curse when he felled Mannoroth.” Elicoor growled, crossing his arms over his chest.

Khoura turned and narrowed her eyes at the man. “I did not say she was under demonic influence.”

“Then what the hell are you saying exactly, Khoura?” Lycannon demanded, placing her hands on her hips.

“That the red mist from Shattrath, coupled with the Fel Orc blood is what is driving you mad, Lycannon.” The elf said matter-of-factly, then clenched her jaw as she finished.

Kaludra, who had hidden quietly behind her father until now, stepped out from his shadow and gazed at both of her parents. “Maybe she is right…No one knows what the red mist was…” She spoke rather quietly, almost looking as if she was about to cry. “Please don’t get upset. I don’t want you to…”

Lyc sighed and moved to pull her daughter close for a hug. “We’re not upset, Kaludra. We just don’t know what to do.” she said, giving Elicoor a look.

He nodded at her in return, then glanced at Khoura. “So you suggest what? That Kaludra take Daelin and hide from their mother?”

Khoura’s brow creased, and she blinked a few times. “I don’t mean it quite like that. I would rather have Lycannon in a controlled environment, instead of out in the world where she could harm someone else…I mean to say, I don’t think we would want a repeat of the Esixa incident.”

“Kaludra, I need you to go see if Jacob is on his way soon. He’s with Daelin at the Shadow Watch base.” Lycannon said abruptly, squeezing the girl’s shoulders.

“Alright momma.” The girl said as she slipped away from her mother and out the door. Lyc turned and watched her daughter go, waiting just long enough for her to get out of hearing range.

“Khoura, if it gets to the stage where I am out of control to the point of harming innocent people and my family, then I need to be executed. There is no use for a rabid dog.”

“Xana’ri! Do not speak like that! You are not an animal!” Elicoor commanded, his voice deep with emotion, “We will find a way to fix this once and for all, so long as you stop giving up when problems arise.”

Lycannon crossed her arms over, matching the man’s presence. “I never gave up. If I had, then I would have died long ago in Terrokar. Need I remind you?” She snarled.

“Alright, alright! Stop this. If you let anger take hold, we’ll have to clean this place up all over again.” Khoura asserted from between the two, placing each of her hands on Lycannon and Elicoor’s chests respectively.

“I’m sorry. It’s been a long night, and I had no idea that Kaludra dreamed about this.” Lyc murmured,  lifting her hands to rub her temples.

Elicoor raised his brow. “You heard us speaking?”

“I let Jacob be with his son and followed Kaludra home. I’m surprised none of you heard me moving the barrels around outside.” Lycannon said, pointing down behind her to said item just outside the doorstep. “We need a makeshift chair.”

“She usually tells me her visions when we spend time together. She always has.”

Lycannon dropped her arms and blinked. “Always has? You talk to her often?”

“Of course, Xana’ri. She is my daughter, after all.”

“Good fel damn…Since when?”

“Since she could speak.”

Lycannon was dumbstruck. “Her entire life? All of it? And Harpagos?”

“I talk to him all the time.” Elicoor said casually, and then the blood immediately drained from his face as he suddenly realized what he just said. He looked as if he had just seen a ghost, or ate one with his words, for that matter.

“WHAT?!”

The Shining Path, Part Two

Lycannon ambled her way through the gateway, eyes tired but still wary of her surroundings. The last thing she wanted was for anyone she knew to catch her talking to Luraela.

She pulled her blanket tighter around her frame as she stepped out into the open air, and she heaved a sigh just to watch her breath.

“Managed to busy him away, eh?” Luraela snickered, stepping out from behind the furthest steam tank from the gates. In her hands she held two mugs, and she offered one to Lycannon.

“Just some Honeymint Tea. I put a bit of Dreaming Glory in…I know you’ve been under a lot of mental pressure lately, Xana.”

Lyc looked at the woman and took the mug, scoffing a chuckle. “You won’t give it up, will you?”

Luraela shrugged, pursing her lips a moment before taking a sip from her cup.”What? Your name? I’m your sister, and I know you how you used to be, not who you’ve become.”

“And you know how I am?” Lycannon asked, quaffing the stuff from her own tankard Her eyes watched Luraela, and they flashed with the question.

The woman laughed, almost spilling her drink as she leaned back into her guffaw, and she raised her free hand to her cheek. It took her a moment to recover, and when she did, she met Lycannon’s gaze with a piercing leer and a sharp tongue. “Mmm, I know all about you, Harbinger Xana’ri ‘Lycannon’ Adastra of Raashynd…Well, now McSars. I’m surprised he actually got up the nerve to ask you. This is your second marriage, correct? Fourth child? And yes, I am counting that blackblood.”

Lycannon nearly choked, and she coughed her throat clear. “How the hell do you know that?” She growled the words, and her face grew into a snarl.

“Simple. I’ve been watching and following you since Argus, Xana. Do you think I forgot what you did?”

“What I did? You’re referring to me fleeing for my life from demons?” Lyc snorted, gripping the mug in her hands tight.

“You left me with them.” Luraela said, tilting a horn to Lyc.

Lycannon swallowed and looked down at her half emptied tankard. “I thought I had already lost you, Luraela. I thought you were gone.” Pausing, she took another long drink. “I don’t understand. This year has tested me to no end, and it just keeps on and on, even as it draws to a close.” Another pause and another drink. “Are you looking for revenge as well?”

The woman smirked. “No. I’m not crazy like Esixa.”

“Fel dammit! Stop toying with me. Why are you here and why are you showing yourself now?” Lyc roared at Luraela. The fact that her sister that she had thought dead for millenia appeared out of nowhere and seemed to know all of her secrets greatly angered her, and she was practically seething with rage. She lashed her tail like a whip and her fingers curled into fists, the snarl still twisting her features.

The woman watched Lycannon, her narrowed eyes studying her face, moving down her body and taking in every line and crease of her form. Biting her lip, a long period of silence passed between the two, before Lycannon stamped a hoof and startled Luraela’s thoughts.

“I’m sorry, I need to go to Westfall. We’ll talk later, Xana.”

“No! You tell me now. I’m not playing these games with you, or anyone else any longer. I’m tired of all of this. I’ve done every damned thing I can to make everyone happy, and try to change myself into a better person. You will tell me right now or-..”

Luraela quickly raised a hand, interrupting with a cool and collected voice. “Or…you can ride with me to Westfall. I might be able to rush the person I’m supposed to meet with along, if you’ll just stay patient.”

Lycannon clenched her jaw, and relaxed her stance some, drawing a breath and then speaking lowly. “You had better make haste. Jacob will start to worry.”

“I know. It won’t take too long after the flight.”

Luraela grinned at Lycannon and gently took her arm, walking with her back into the forge.

Polaris

I think the thing that bothered me the most about the entire ordeal, was that I couldn’t help but feel that it was somehow all my fault. Had I enough willpower, I would not of lost my mind and killed Esixa’s children.

I’ve survived three separate wars, nearly dying several times in all of them, and even becoming mentally indisposed during one. I’ve lived through two different exoduses and two different genocides against my people. My parents, my husband, the father of my children and my son all perished. Of all the trials and tribulations I have gone through, this one that finally ended less than two days ago was the hardest I had ever endured.  Had I not the friends I did, I would not be here now.

Esixa came into my home and knocked me about, then managing to get the one up on me and my current sensitive state by cracking my head against the wall and stabbing me with the dagger Saibley had given me. When I awoke, I found myself slumped over her back with my hooves dragging the ground. We were in the Wetlands, I knew by the smell. I managed to topple her over by shifting my weight. I even wiggled free and ran for my life as best I could with a knife wound in my chest. There was distance between us, and I figured I could hide in the marshlands until I either outsmarted her and back-tracked to Ironforge, or someone found me. There was no way I could take her on. Not now. Neivala had sapped all of my strength for herself. I flew across those glades. I ran as hard as I could. I thought I had gotten away when she shot my leg out from underneath me.

I hit the peat face first and rolled a few times, finally coming to a halt thanks to a nearby tree. She was on me before I could even draw the next breath, and yet again, she cracked me over the head with the hilt of the dagger. I would learn to become used to this.

The next time I awoke, It was dark and I was naked, tied to another tree in what looked like a graveyard. I knew I was still in the marsh, but closer to the water. I could hear it. The only thing I could think of was that she stuck me out there so no one would find me, and then she went into Menethil Harbor. I tried my damnedest to wrestle free of my bindings, and I screamed at the top of my lungs through whatever she stuck in my mouth to muffle the noise. All night I writhed, but it was too much. The coldness of the mire, combined with my wounds and me being with child did not allow for my freedom. I did not sleep until the sun rose, and she came to crack my skull again.

It must of taken her all day to row from Baradin Bay to Faldir’s Cove. It was evening once more, so far as I could see through the blood dried to my face. She had clothed me, at least. I had known the place from my travels there about a year earlier, and it was the favorite spot of the well known Blackwater Raiders; A band of pirates who seemed to have good graces with Booty Bay. That being said, I thought I might actually be able to convince one of the men to kill the bitch and set me free for some sort of gold payoff, but what she offered them was too good to pass up. She told them that they could have their way with me, an exotic woman, if they allowed her safe passage to Booty Bay. As it was, she didn’t get off the hook just that easily. She ended up paying them a large sum of gold and gems, probably to ensure her own safety, as well as most of her armor and Saibley’s dagger. They untied me and threw me into a room that looked rather clean for a bunch of pirates. A few minutes went passed, and I took the chance to try and find something to defend myself with, but they had cleared the cabin of anything dangerous. She had tipped them off about my prowess.

The first man who thought he would get lucky entered the room, and I came up from behind and twisted his head, snapping his neck, simple as that. He wasn’t very big. It was easy to do. Of course, they started to get curious as to the quietness of the situation and when the door opened and they saw their comrade laying slack-jawed on the floor, they wasted no time in calling for the captain of the ship, but not before I broke a few of their faces. Again, I thought I might actually have a chance, they were dropping like flies and I wasn’t even hitting them that hard. I wasn’t paying attention to what they looked like, I didn’t care. The last hook I would throw was caught in the large fist of an even larger man, and he took my arm and snapped it back, breaking it like a twig. I screamed, crippled by pain and dropped to my knees immediately. I screamed when he picked me up and slammed me into the bed. I screamed for Jacob, calling for him, hoping desperately that somehow he would hear me and come to my rescue, but this was not the case. I knew that if this man did as he wanted, I would lose Neivala.

The last thing I remember is him uncorking some flask and forcing it down my throat, then lifting my dress.

We were in Booty Bay the next I think I awoke. I wasn’t sure, I couldn’t open my eyes and everything was very hazy and slow, as if I were drunk. He had given me some sort of a potion to knock me out and when I realized this, I wished not to know how many of his pirates touched me. The only thought on my mind was if I still had Neivala with me. This realization lingered in my mind for only a few minutes, until she cracked my skull again, and I was out.

“Oh shit..” I remember Saibley saying that clear as day, despite the shape my head and my body were in. I hadn’t eaten or slept properly in a few days, and when she cut me free I hadn’t even the strength to hold myself up. I couldn’t speak, my jaw was shattered, and my eyes were swollen shut.  My conscience was screaming out, hoping she could read my mind somehow and whisk me away before Esixa came back. I knew that if she were here, Jacob and whoever else were not too far behind. Once more, freedom stared me in the face, and once more it was stolen from me.  I could hear the thumping of saber paws and a chinking of armor, followed by a thud and a yelp from Saibley, then another, louder thud against what I guessed was a tree. I didn’t know it at the time, but we were in Ashenvale as Esixa plucked me up and slumped me over her saber, quickly making a get away from the scene.

We rode for a while, stopping a long bit in between to board a ferry, so it seemed, before taking off again. When we finally stopped, she threw me down onto a ground that was littered in leaves. It had a distinct smell about it, and I recognized it instantly. We were on Bloodmyst Isle. The fact that we were here told me she had no where left to run, that this was her last stand. It was here that either she would die, or I would.

At this point, she had worked herself into a near hysteria, going on about her children and what she would do to me, that she would kill those coming after her and such. She had finally lost it, and despite my condition, I tried to crawl away, but not before she slammed her hoof onto my good arm, crushing it under her weight. I screamed and she laughed. It was then that Jacob, Saibley and Sorinna came charging in. I passed out the second time she ground her hoof into my flesh.

I learned later that Jacob had killed her.

After five or so days and being drug across Azeroth, stabbed, beaten, and taken advantage of, I was finally back at home in the Forge, surrounded by the people that cared about me.

Normally I’d be rather pissed off at this point, and wanting to seek my own revenge somehow, even if the one person who caused me all of this grief was dead. But something happened in between the time I had last passed out and the time I woke up in my bed.

I think it was a combination of Sorinna and Maricella’s healing what was left of my mangled shell of a body, and then my body channeling that energy the only way it could to save itself. It had unlocked those mental pathways that had been shell-shocked closed so long ago in the battle for Shattrath, and by doing that, it reawakened my being able to use the Light. I could heal just as well as I used to, as if Shattrath never even happened.

When I was able to realize this, the flooding of the ability to be able to use the Light again mucked up my mind and memoirs, and I had jumbled up the past with the present. I first thought that I was in the infirmary in Shattrath, talking to medics that I recognized as my friends, but thought were different people entirely at the same time. This lapse in differentiation didn’t last too long though, and I quickly regained my full capacity, with the old ability to use the Light to boot. The most important part of all of this, was that Neivala was fine, completely unharmed. That, I cannot believe.

As horrible as it was, if this didn’t happen, I might of been lost to the depths of anger and rage forever.

Thank you, Esixa.

Dead Men Tell No Tales

McSars trudged down the slope towards the pirate cove. He wasn’t wearing all of his armor, and hid his chestplate and greaves beneath a simple cloak. It gave him the look of a burly monk of some kind. Sheathed beneath the cloak and under the backpack for additional stealth was his sword. He’d decided to travel light, and as such he was appropriately armed.

“Oye, that be three in a row. Pay up or ye be wearin’ that hempen halter soon enough.” A round of laughter went over the few rugged men sitting about the table, drinking and otherwise enjoying themselves and their game of cards. They didn’t notice the man slowly working his way towards them, though the galleon and the large bonfire nearby seemed to do a fine job of hampering their view of the slope.

Unmindful of being seen, the warrior moved towards the dock. While he was certain he could take on the whole damn ship if need be, he had to be careful. Assumptions often ended with the death of the fool that made them, after all. In any case, he thought as he approached the makeshift dock, whatever happens – happens.

As drunk as most of them were, when they finally realized the warrior was within their area, they jumped to arms, pulling out whatever blunderbuss and cutlass they could get their hands on. “Aye ye scallywags, lookie we got ‘ere. Seems an old Light-kind stumbled off the beaten path.” The deep voice came from a large man who seemed to have some sort of commanding authority over the other sailors, and he emerged from behind the gathering to address McSars. “You thar, who ye be? Who ye think you are bargin’ into me territory? We’re the Blackwater Raiders, ye know that?” He called gruffly, brandishing a jug in one hand and a sword in the other.

McSars allowed a harsh tone to creep into his voice. “Of course I know that. I wouldn’t come to this scungy excuse for a port otherwise.” He paused to allow his words to sink in. “In any case, I need to speak with someone in charge, someone who’s interested in… Turning a fine profit.”

The man grinned at McSars’ words, his face turning to something grotesque. “Ahh, a toughy we got..” he sneered, turning to the chuckling gathering behind him with the pause. “Yer talkin’ to ‘im. Cap’n Briscoe Merlain.” He took off his cap and bowed, then returning it to his head and crossing his arms over his wide chest. “Profit ye say? What kind ‘o farthins’ a Light-kind dressed like that has to offer, eh?”

“The Light…?” He allowed a mirthless chuckle. “I’ve found the Shadow to be a lot more honest. But that’s neither her nor there. What I have to say also isn’t for just any of your ‘scallywags’. Just for the top men.” He met Briscoe’s gaze, giving him the kind of thousand yard stare only a Scourge war veteran has.

Briscoe narrowed his eyes as the steely blue struck him. “Alright then.” Turning he waved his hand and barked at the men like a sheep dog. “Ye scurvy dogs better stay put or so ‘elp me ye’ll be joinin’ yer mates in tha Maiden’s Folly!” Another grin and he motioned with the jug to the gangplank of the ship that was crudely connecting the vessel to the bank. “We’ll talk in my quarters, below deck.” Snickering to himself, he lumbered onward, taking a swig as he went.

McSars went as he was directed. He walked with a calm stride, as if he wasn’t surrounded by a group of dangerous cuthroats. Of course he was gauging them as a threat, and decided most of them would be little trouble – but the captain and his top men might be. Every now and then if he met the gaze of one of the men he’d narrow his eyes – just slightly – until they looked away.

The captain nodded to two rather large men standing idly below the deck as he descended down the wooden stairs, then raising a hand as they raised their weapons. “Business, Hector, Dougal. Ye’ll know if ‘e pulls any funny business.” They hesitated a moment, looking between each other and lowering their arms, saluting the man as he walked by them and around the corner to his chamber. Unhooking the loaded keyring from his cinch, he unlocked the door and pushed it open, standing there and waiting for the warrior to take one of the empty seats around the surprisingly clean table.

McSars took the seat and regarded the captain. “I’m going to be completely plain with you. I’m a veteran of the Scourge war. While I was fighting up there – fighting, surviving, whatever you like – I learned the location of a cache of valuables of some noble family. They’d planned to come back for it later, but had a run in with some ghouls. I don’t stand a chance going in there alone, and I can’t afford some Light-wielding do-gooder donating it all to the family’s relatives – so I’ve come to you.”
He kept watch on the captain. “I’m actually willing to let you and your men take it all. I don’t need it, really. What I want in exchange for the location is information. Give me what I need to know and I’ll guide you there myself.”

Briscoe scoffed as he took the chair opposite McSars, taking the pipe on the table and lighting it leisurely. “Got a sore spot for ’em nobles, eh vet’ran?” He spoke with a lowered tone, all the while still as raspy. Pausing a moment, he studied McSars hard before puffing the thing. “I’ll tell ye what. Tell me yer name and I’ll tell ye what I may or may not know ’bout..” he shrugs, “Whatever it be ye want. Don’t think ye kin pull one over me eyes. This old salt’s seen ‘is fair share o’ hornswaggle if I ever did.”

McSars nodded slowly. “I’m the Armsmaster. My current assignment is to locate a draenei named Lycannon. Wanted dead or alive, preferably alive. Someone got to her before me, for personal reasons of some sort. I intend to relieve them of her, preferably without any bloodshed. What can you tell me?”

The captain bellows a hearty laugh, taking a moment to enjoy it. When he recovered, he shook his head and leaned back in the chair, crossing his legs and propping them up on the table. “I kin tell ye she’s a fine piece to ‘ave, I know ‘at. Bit shapely for me tastes, but fine jus the same.” He smirks, the dim room hiding his features some. “‘Er friend on the other hand ain’t so charmin’, which is why I s’pose she offered this Lycan to us in return fer a safe voyage to Booty Bay.” Pausing, he pointed his thumb to the bed. “Real feisty woman, kept screamin’ some name, started with a ‘J’ ifin’ I kin remember. Trollop bloodied some o’ me men’s noses, tha’s fer sure. But, wasn’t ain’t nothin’ a little o’ sleepin’ potion couldn’t fix, am I right?” Another laugh, followed by cough roared from the man, and he patted his chest to clear his lungs.

“Of course, of course.” He gave a nod, looking towards the bed. “Must have been disappointing to see her go.” Discipline, discipline, discipline. The captain’s fate, and that of his men, was sealed. Patience, soldier. Just a little more information.

“I’d never pay a coin fer a woman, even one with a good right hook.” Briscoe shrugged. “She served ‘er purpose, as beat up as she were.” He clicked his tongue and grinned wickedly, meeting McSars’ gaze. “Frien’ drug her off o’ our Man-O-War near as quick as she rowed up in that lil’ boat of ‘ers. Said somethin’ bout Ratchet an’ took off.” he snaps his fingers, “Jus like ‘at.”

“Just like that.”

The table wasn’t much of an impediment. It was actually broken in half from the force of both McSars charging into it and it hitting the captain. There was little finesse in his initial attack. His first action was to grab the scruff of the man’s neck with one hand and with the other, put his fist through his face – quite literally. The first punch may even have killed him, the second one made doubly sure of it. Pulling his dripping fist from the pirate’s skull, McSars drew his sword. As far as he knew, everyone had touched his Lycannon. Logically, therefore, they must all die.
He picked up the captain’s scimitar and brandished both it and his sword as the two bodyguards entered. In a whirlwind of steel, the enraged soldier charged through the men and up the stairs. He would not stop until every single pirate on the ship was dead.

Esixa had also just signed her own death warrant.

Information, Part Two

McSars looks around. “Neivala. I got your letter.”

Sorinna eyes the draenei.

Neivala brought the pipe from her mouth and turned on her hooves upon hearing his voice. “Hmm? Oh. Good, good…Where’s Saibley?”

“She couldn’t make it.” The man responds.

Neivala nods, glancing at Sorinna. “I see. Ah well, I s’pose I’ll let her know at some point. Anyway, about Lycannon, yes? I guess you think I might know a thing or two about this, seeing as where I’m from, but..” She pauses, looking about the place. “I know only a little more than you do. You see..I..I’m the one who told Esixa where Lycannon was and about ‘er and stuff.” Pausing, she raises a hand. “But..”

Sorinna blinks.

Neivala shrugs. “I didn’t know she was after her for malicious reasons. She told me she was an old friend, wanted to catch up on some things… Ran into each other in the Exodar, got to talkin’.”

McSars nods. “You couldn’t have known. Get anything useful out of her that could be of use?”

The huntress crosses her arms, rolling her shoulders in thought. “Well, I do know a few things. One, is that she spends most of her time at the Exodar. She rarely leaves Kalimdor.”

The man nods again, thinking about this. “Hmm…” He scratches his chin.

“Another, is that Esixa stayed here last night.” Neivala smirks at this, continuing. “I’m not sure who all you have on this ‘case’, but I’m quite surprised none of ’em spotted the trail of blood leading from your house.”

Sorinna looks at McSars briefly then back to the young woman.

“Is Esixa still in this area, or has she moved on? I doubt she’d take Lycannon to the Exodar.” He says, watching Neivala, who raises a finger in point and motions for them to follow.

“That’s where I’m rather stumped. She cleaned herself up and apparently Lycannon too after she left. She was here last night.”

The two indeed follow the huntress outside of the tavern, and she stops to sigh and shake hear head at her worg, who had decided to take a nap at his post.

“Dark as it was, no one probably noticed the stains.” Neivala begins, making her way to the gates of the harbor.

“Not to mention all the soot on the floor.” McSars states, walking closely behind.

“Well, they are dwarves. I’m not sure the last that hearth was cleaned but..hmm..” The huntress trails off, letting another moment go by before speaking again, stopping on the bank just passed the bridge into town. “Obviously, she wouldn’t drag a nearly dead woman into a town and not expect some brows to be raised.”

McSars nods. “Of course.”

Neivala points over to the tree in the distance. “The trail ends over there. I’d imagine she dumped Lycannon in the graveyard, tied her up or somethin’, and washed herself in the water…The innkeeper can confirm he kept a room for a draenei named Esixa. Short, brown hair, rather ugly, to be honest.” she says, then laughing. “Mmm, Come on.”

Calling for her elekk, the young woman mounts quickly and heads across the water a little ways to the spot she was pointing at; A graveyard, to be exact. Stepping down from the beast, she slips between the grave stones and waits for the other two to catch up. Poking her fingers around in the grass, she lifts them to the sunlight, eyeing the blueish color. “Mhm. Same on the tree too. Bit of rope on the other side, all bloodied up.” She stands, turning and looking at McSars.

Any trails from here? He asks.

Sorinna finally speaks, after having been quiet for a while. “She’s really not trying to hide her path very well is she?”

McSars keeps himself neutral as possible, keeping focused. “Maybe she’s counting on Kaludra following the trail.”

Neivala shakes her head. “She’s in a hurry to get wherever she’s goin’. Seein’ as how the tail stops here, I can only assume she took one of the boats elsewhere.”

“Hm…” He begins, “It wouldn’t be a long range boat – this is too small, it’d be noticed.”

Neivala nods at the man. “Spot on.”

McSars gazes out over the water, thinking. “There’s numerous places to hide up the coast from here. There’s some caves around Arathi, in fact… A remote stretch of farmland. There’s also a landing to the far south.”

“You might be right, I haven’t thought of that yet. Perhaps she took a small rowboat across or..” The huntress nods, considering. “Hmm..”

McSars turns and walks a few paces, regarding the other draenei a moment. “Sorinna…”

“Hm?”

“I need you to check in Menethil with people who hire out and or sell boats for short range transport. We’re probably looking at a rowboat of some kind.”

Neivala pulls a small flask from her hip and takes a swig, gazing into the distance with a sigh. She faced the ocean and mulled over the possibilities of where her birth mother might be stowed away.

“Alright…I’ll let you know what I find.” Sorinna says, nodding.

“Thank-you.”

Sorinna nods, smiling briefly, “I’ll catch up.”

McSars salutes the woman, who returns the gesture and promptly calls for her saber, taking off at a brisk pace. He then walks back over to his daughter, standing at her side and watching the water.

“There’s hundreds of places she could be.” He pauses. “Neivala, good work. And.. Thank-you.”

“For?” The huntress nods again, watching him.

“Helping.” The man says then scowling out over the water.

She raises a brow. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“You did a good job anyway.”

“I guess so. Either way, she’s still alive, I’m still here…Though I feel like hell..” Neivala shrugs, taking another swig and then pursing her lips.

He turns to her. “Why’s that?”

“I have no idea. Started yesterday or so.”

“Maybe there’s some kind of connection between you and, er, you, but I’m not a doctor.” Stopping, he shrugs, letting a bit of silence go between them. “Right. The only course of action I can think of for now is to search up the coast.”

Neivala shakes her head. “I don’t know, maybe…” She pauses and clears her throat. “Right. I’ve yet to get that far with Alta’ir. His nose has been doing most of the work here.”

“Alright. I’m going to check the places of interest. The pirates at the cave I spoke of may have some information, even if I have to beat it out of them. After that I’ll start an in-depth search, all the way down the coast.”

Dipping her head a moment, her voice becomes low. “She could be anywhere, McSars.”

“I know. But we can’t afford to let despondency take hold.” he turns to her and puts a hand on her shoulder, looking directly at her. “We’ll find her, Neivala.”

The young woman blinks and tilts her head, looking at his gauntlet and then meeting his gaze. “I know..” she whispered.

“My radio frequency is 6.05.2. Let me know what you find.”

Neivala nods, patting the holster on her hip. “I will..” She pauses again, drawing a breath. “I know how much you love her. I won’t stop until I find something.”

McSars nods in turn. “She means a lot to me. So do my daughters.” He smiles slightly. “Present or future.”

“It takes time..” The huntress whispers, looking down and biting her lip. “Er..no pun intended..”

“And time will tell. Pun intended. Good luck.”

She allows a smirk to crack her features and he salutes her as well, doing what any good soldier would do. As she watched him go, she sighed and gently pat her wolf on his head. She knew they had to find Lycannon soon.

Information, Part One

“Excuse me.”

Dorothia turns casually to face the voice, “Yes?”

“I’m looking for Dorothia, a draenei. I have a few questions. You her?”

“You’re looking at her, and who might you be, and how exactly can I help you?”

“Corporal McSars. I’m wondering if you have any information on another dreanei, a woman named Esixa.”

She looks the man over a moment, contemplating, “That’s a name I haven’t heard in a long time. I don’t see how I can help you though.”

“Well, I hear she lost some family on Draenor, not to the orcs. Do you know anything about that?”

“With all due respect, Corporal, everyone’s lost family on Draenor. Mind you…there was a rumor I heard back on Draenor…some woman, I can’t recall her name, but she went nuts…near the harborage I think and killed some people.”

“Lycannon, right?”

Dorothia stares at the man, “Yes..Lycannon…” her voice falling quiet a moment in thought.

“What do you know about Esixa?”

“I know that this, Lycannon killed her children…but…this was a hell of a while ago. I was living near there at the time, I knew Esixa, but only slightly.”

Mcsars lets out a long, drawn-out sigh. “Thank-you.”

“Can I ask what this is about?”

The man glances out to the street. “Esixa has come to avenge her lost children. She kidnapped Lycannon recently.” He looks to Dorothia. “My assignment is to secure Lycannon safely and ascertain whether or not Esixa is going to continue to be a problem.”

Dorothia looks at him, her gaze unwavering, “I haven’t spoken to the woman in…several seasons, too many too count I’m afraid. But I do remember how bitter and angry she was, she was never the same after that.”

“I can imagine. Not easy to lose a loved one, so I hear.”

“Of course. The woman, Lycannon…was not to blame though. Esixa had trouble understanding that though. I’m not wholly surprised by this information you’ve brought to light.”

“If you find out anything, could you notify me via the mail system?”…I’m not asking you to look or anything. Just if you hear something. I don’t hang around Dalaran much, but maybe you’ll over hear something.”

He pauses a moment. “I’ll make it worth your while.”

She nods, “Of course,” she shakes her head, “That’s not necessary.”

Mcsars looks a little surprised, then suspicious. “Why not?”

“Why is it not necessary to pay me off with money to aid you in finding Lycannon, what ever she may be to you?” The priestess says folding her arms casually.

“I’m just a little surprised. That’s all…Thank-you, I appreciate it.”

Dorothia nods once more, “Your welcome…and…if I can be or any further assistance, my door is open.”

“Again, thank-you.” The man says, standing at attention and saluting before making his way out of the lounge.

…And the Blind One Came

She knew what was coming.

Lycannon looked up from her bowl of salad, stopping her munching midway as the draenei waved at her curtly from her position at the door. She slowly set the bowl on the table and leaned back in her chair with a sigh.

“Commander Raashynd, how nice to finally get to meet you. Interesting how you have decided on a home here in the Ironforge.”

The woman then proceeded to invite herself in, looking about the room with her hands behind her back, fingers poking at the large sword slung across her armor. Lycannon nodded silently and slipped her hand under the table, feeling for the dagger handle peeking out of the crack in the stone she had wedged it in.

Jacob had picked the worst time to have a drink at the Pig and Whistle.

“Nice place, if I may say. In any case, you seem well, especially after that nice bit of..oh, slaughtering? Right, on Draenor? Do you remember that, Raashynd?”

Lycannon pressed her lips together and swallowed, turning her hips and crossing her unoccupied arm over the other to hide suspicion.

“Shattrath left us all scarred, Esixa. I was not in my right mind when that happened.” The warrior spoke lowly, speaking back to the woman in their native tongue.

Esixa turned sharply on her hooves and laughed, placing her hands on her plated hips.

“Right, right, of course. I suppose I should just..‘forgive’ you and be on my merry way, correct?”

“I do not expect you to forgive me, but I do hope you did not come here in the name of vengeance. I cannot change what I did, but what’s done is done. I repeat, It was not I that killed them. it was something else, something I was not in control of.”

Lycannon swallowed again, gripping the dagger handle tight. She knew she wouldn’t be able to take another warrior in full plate armor in her condition. All she could do is stall.

“Either way, your shell was the one that dealt them their final blows. Had I found out sooner, I probably would not of been able to do the same to you..But look what we have here..”

The woman crossed the floor, slinking across with flashing eyes, a wicked smirk planted squarely on her face. Lycannon kept her eyes locked to hers and attempted to look as calm as possible.

“What do we have here, Esixa?” she asked softly.

Slamming a fist on the table, the other warrior lashed a gauntlet out and wrapped her plated fingers around Lycannon’s neck, propping a hoof on the chair behind her. Lycannon gasped and back peddled against the stone floor, her own hooves rejecting what traction she might of been able to get on the smooth surface.

“I have you, Raashynd. I know you can’t fight back, and I know why..”

With a terrible force, Esixa thrust Lycannon backwards, knocking over the chair and sending the draenei sliding across the stone and crashing into the wall on the other side of the room with a yelp.

The other woman simply laughed and watched Lycannon writhe.

“Esixa..” she coughed,  gritting her teeth against the sharp pain in her spine and clutching the dagger to her chest. “Don’t..this isn’t right, you won’t feel better for this..”

“Shut up, slut. You don’t know anything about feeling. Just killing, though you may enjoy watching your victims scream for mercy..”

The woman walked over to Lycannon and kneeled down, eyeing her and then fixing her eyes on her waist.

“A girl, correct? Neivala? Will you beg for her life too? I dare say a sick, half-breed should be let into this world, much less any other spawn of yours. I should find Kaludra and end her pitiful life too..”

She paused and grabbed Lyc’s chin, tilting it up with a chuckle.

“..Much like I did Harpagos.”

Lycannon’ eye twitched and she roared forward, plunging the dagger into the unprotected clavicle of the draenei and then launching a right hook into her face. Esixa toppled back and knocked the table over, caught off-guard by Lycannon’s quick actions. She screamed in agony, her plate screeching against the floor as she regained her footing.

Lyc had sidled along the wall away from the other warrior and met the shelf in the wall, where she turned and frantically rifled for something to further cripple Esixa with, throwing various objects to the floor in her search.

“You damned bitch, I will end this!” The woman snarled, charging at Lycannon from behind and slamming her into the shelving, holding her onto the wall. Lyc only had enough time to buffer herself against the impact, turning her hips just enough to keep her waist from colliding into the stone. The force of of the blow knocked the wind out of her and she buckled under Esixa’s weight, shoulders pinned hard to the wall.

The woman growled and then made an audible sound of pain as she pulled the knife from her collar bone and slipped it across Lycannon’s throat, forming a neat line of blue. She had only broken her skin.

“Where is that human of yours, eh? Off in Northrend being a hero? Having a few drinks at the tavern with some old comrades?” Esixa paused to press her hostage even harder into the wall, at which point Lycannon cried out with anguish. She wouldn’t be able to take much more of this. “I can tell you where he’s not, and that’s here. Think of it, to come in and find his lovely betrothed dead in his own home..tsk.”

It was then that Esixa moved her hand around to the back of Lycannon’s head and clutched her skull tight, shoving it sideways and pressing it to the wall and holding the dagger away menacingly with the other. She leaned forward and whispered into Lyc’s ear gently, lips brushing against it gently as she spoke.

“I will enjoy this. Goodbye, Commander.”

Lycannon shook her head and struggled, eyes flashing with actual terror. She hadn’t been so helpless in nearly all of her life, and now she knew she might actually die. The thought only had enough time to form, when Esixa thrust the knife into Lyc’s side and then cracked her head against the wall, knocking the warrior unconscious. She let go of Lycannon and stepped back, watching her collapse down the wall and bleed profusely onto the floor.

Esixa stood over her trophy, touching a hand to her clavicle and spitting on the fallen draenei, hissing at her wound.

“Good riddance, you bitch.” she sneered, turning to walk out of the house when she stopped, thinking.

‘Of course I could just leave her here to die, but then..if I held her captive..I could draw out her daughter..’

A wide grin appeared on her features and she quickly gathered Lycannon up and dashed out the door with her prize.