Shanoris watched the beast take off, and, not waiting for the others to catch up, she took off into the night at a full sprint. Where others would have declared it foolish to act so hastily in the dark, she would not care. She had no need to see, anyway. That beast was after the troll, she thought to herself as she weaved through the countryside at break-neck pace. If I’m careful, the troll will be mine again. He was weary from battle. There’s no way I’m letting up escape me again!
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Some time had passed since Shanoris had disappeared searching for the troll. Esmerra hadn’t let a single one of her number leave Moonbrook after that incident. The Deadmines were still secure. Only one demon spawn got in. It was most important that the people be protected now. The escape had been aborted after a thorough search of the hidden caves showed that no one was left to threaten them. Esmerra only hoped Shanoris returned soon with the troll. Even if she does break his legs, she thought to herself as she looked over the cell her prisoner had escaped from yet again. She kneeled down, her gloved hand raising the cuffs that had bound him, still locked tight. I’ll need to order magic-binding cuffs from Dalaran this time. I underestimated his troll blood. He heals too fast to be detained by injury.
One of her most loyal knights, Sir Doyle Wolfcrest, was by her side, watching over her carefully. The man had been guarding her family since her own father was head of the house. Though he had some grey hairs on his head, he never wavered. The man dutifully gave a report when she asked him for one: “The refugees are settling down again. We’ve secured the entrances and doubled the watch around Moonbrook. This time, we’ll know if something’s headed our way, milady.” Esmerra nodded, pleased.
“Good,” she said, “I don’t want any more surprises from the Legion tonight. Those people deserve their rest. Some of the wounded can’t handle much more excitement.” She began walking out of the cells, back to the main cavern where the people awaited. And my cot. I could use another five hours of sleep after all that.
The knight cleared his throat, oddly unsettled by something. “Yes, well, we also did a count of the injured and dead. It came back short.” Esmerra shot him a look of dismay. “Did we lose someone?” she asked. “We need to find them straight away!”
“That’s just it, milady. We searched everywhere, but we couldn’t find any sign of Felrig’s body. He’s gone, milady. Just…gone.”
Ending the Hunt
Re: Ending the Hunt
The wolf fled across the foreign landscape. Chased by the relentless bloodhound through the briars, and the bushes, and the places that the rabbits wouldn't go. The white fur darkened by the rain and filled with burrs now reeked.
The wolf was frantic and fighting through exhaustion. The demon would not relent this time. He could not hide for long from the maw of darkness. He heard the river in the distance. The storm had worsened. Long low rumbling thunder began to fill the clouds.
Esmerra was having trouble sleeping when she heard the creaking of floorboards outside the makeshift lodging constructed for her. No doubt Sir Doyle on watch. Esmerra jerked upwards as she heard something heavy hit the plank of reclaimed food fastened into her door. She called out to the knight and approached
Blood began to flow under the door. Esmerra didn't have time to register her shock before a large axe blade pierced the rotted plank. She screamed as the axe was pulled out and the warped visage of Felrig peered in through the hole.
Esmerra jammed her dagger through the hole deep into Felrig's face. Felrig stumbled back and continued the assault unfazed. The axe landed again splintering the middle of the door before Doyle approached the possessed Felrig and the now dead guard on watch. He drew his sword and shouted, "Stand down!"
Felrig halted and turned to Doyle. His face was mutilated and his right shoulder was hunched high as if it had been broken and healed without setting. The former guard looked as if he had undergone extensive torture. "He was a filthy cheat. You let it happen for years." said Felrig in a grating voice not quite his own.
"Drop the weapon. We can hel-" Doyle was interrupted by Felrig charging and spitting blood as he yelled "Prepare the throne for the bloodthirster!"
Doyle easily sidestepped the charge and deftly disarmed Felrig. Doyle knew the warped guard was still a threatening presence. With no other choice he ran him through. The knight stood with a troubled look and jumped with a start when Felrig reached for his axe. The guards all descended upon Felrig ending his existence once and for all but not before he tossed his fel axe at Doyle.
The wolf burst into the clearing. It saw Kazarak and sprinted towards him before collapsing. The shaman braced for an attack that didn't come. Kazarak stared at the wolf as it's panting slowed and the tension in it's muscles released. One of it's ears was flopped awkwardly and it's tongue stuck out of its mouth.
From across the flooded river Sanoris could hear distant howls approaching. She waited to hear the calls again. Closer now. From the treeline she sensed the wolves approaching slowly and calling from both sides of the river.
The wind intensified blowing the rain outward from a center point in the clouds. They parted and flooded the scene with moonlight. Kazarak could see wolves all around. Wolves of every type and size. Wolves that weren't found on this continent.
Karazak and Sanoris both paused.
The white wolf shook its head and stood up to join in the howling. The river churned and out rolled several malformed water elementals. They approached the tree line from which the wolf had come.
Sanoris sensed ancient hatred. It bid it's time within the trees across the river. It was relentless and threatening. This was a powerful foreign presence.
The white wolf ended it's howl and met eyes with Karazak. They looked in each other's spirit's and closed their eyes in meditation.
Ashenfury saw the star again. He stared at it in awe and focused. The star came closer with impossible speed stopping just in front him. The troll and the orc observed one another. The Troll broke the silence... "Ashenfury?"
The orc looked confused. He formed the word with his mouth and thought hard. It looked painful. Then it registered. The demon had nearly taken his name! The orc took a deep breath, he seemed to gain strength from it and he spent it on a roar. He stretched his body out and replied to the troll, "I am!"
The wolf was frantic and fighting through exhaustion. The demon would not relent this time. He could not hide for long from the maw of darkness. He heard the river in the distance. The storm had worsened. Long low rumbling thunder began to fill the clouds.
Esmerra was having trouble sleeping when she heard the creaking of floorboards outside the makeshift lodging constructed for her. No doubt Sir Doyle on watch. Esmerra jerked upwards as she heard something heavy hit the plank of reclaimed food fastened into her door. She called out to the knight and approached
Blood began to flow under the door. Esmerra didn't have time to register her shock before a large axe blade pierced the rotted plank. She screamed as the axe was pulled out and the warped visage of Felrig peered in through the hole.
Esmerra jammed her dagger through the hole deep into Felrig's face. Felrig stumbled back and continued the assault unfazed. The axe landed again splintering the middle of the door before Doyle approached the possessed Felrig and the now dead guard on watch. He drew his sword and shouted, "Stand down!"
Felrig halted and turned to Doyle. His face was mutilated and his right shoulder was hunched high as if it had been broken and healed without setting. The former guard looked as if he had undergone extensive torture. "He was a filthy cheat. You let it happen for years." said Felrig in a grating voice not quite his own.
"Drop the weapon. We can hel-" Doyle was interrupted by Felrig charging and spitting blood as he yelled "Prepare the throne for the bloodthirster!"
Doyle easily sidestepped the charge and deftly disarmed Felrig. Doyle knew the warped guard was still a threatening presence. With no other choice he ran him through. The knight stood with a troubled look and jumped with a start when Felrig reached for his axe. The guards all descended upon Felrig ending his existence once and for all but not before he tossed his fel axe at Doyle.
The wolf burst into the clearing. It saw Kazarak and sprinted towards him before collapsing. The shaman braced for an attack that didn't come. Kazarak stared at the wolf as it's panting slowed and the tension in it's muscles released. One of it's ears was flopped awkwardly and it's tongue stuck out of its mouth.
From across the flooded river Sanoris could hear distant howls approaching. She waited to hear the calls again. Closer now. From the treeline she sensed the wolves approaching slowly and calling from both sides of the river.
The wind intensified blowing the rain outward from a center point in the clouds. They parted and flooded the scene with moonlight. Kazarak could see wolves all around. Wolves of every type and size. Wolves that weren't found on this continent.
Karazak and Sanoris both paused.
The white wolf shook its head and stood up to join in the howling. The river churned and out rolled several malformed water elementals. They approached the tree line from which the wolf had come.
Sanoris sensed ancient hatred. It bid it's time within the trees across the river. It was relentless and threatening. This was a powerful foreign presence.
The white wolf ended it's howl and met eyes with Karazak. They looked in each other's spirit's and closed their eyes in meditation.
Ashenfury saw the star again. He stared at it in awe and focused. The star came closer with impossible speed stopping just in front him. The troll and the orc observed one another. The Troll broke the silence... "Ashenfury?"
The orc looked confused. He formed the word with his mouth and thought hard. It looked painful. Then it registered. The demon had nearly taken his name! The orc took a deep breath, he seemed to gain strength from it and he spent it on a roar. He stretched his body out and replied to the troll, "I am!"
Re: Ending the Hunt
The axe had barely scraped Doyle’s armor before Esmerra’s vine had risen from the ground and grabbed it. She exhaled, relieved that her most faithful knight was unharmed. Doyle stepped back from the weapon as the vine released it, and it clattered to the ground. He regarded Felrig’s bloody corpse, the axe, and Lady Esmerra. As the other guards investigated the former two, he quickly joined his charge by the wall of the cavern. She was rubbing her temples irritably, which she often did when news most troubling was delivered to her. The knight spoke, “Are you alright, milady?”
“I’ll be fine. I want to be certain no one else has been turned into a killing machine by the demons. Have every guard inspected, every civilian, too.” Doyle nodded as she issued commands, her voice steady despite exhaustion and grief weighing on her. He busied himself acting on her commands, sending his most trusted troops to begin the inspection while he saw Esmerra back to her chambers. She likely wasn’t going to get another wink of sleep tonight.
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Shanoris continued to watch as the shaman and the wolf sat across from each other with their eyes closed. She could tell there was some powerful energy between the two, but beyond that, she was blind to what was going on. She couldn’t stand being truly blind. These shamans and their spirit magic. So obnoxious. She pondered what to do. It seemed the simplest thing to ford the river with all her speed and take the troll while he was in the spirit world. And yet, she sensed if she did, the wolves and the elementals would protect the shaman from her. The elf huffed impatiently, but decided to bide her time anyway. They don’t know I’m here yet. I just have to wait for the opportune moment—
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Kazarak faced the spirit of Ashenfury with a guarded expression. Though the orc had regained control for now, it was no telling when the demonic corruption would tear his consciousness away again. He spoke quickly, “Elder, it is…good you answered my call. But what must be done…to free you?” The troll awaited a response patiently. Something told him he would be well protected for now.
“I’ll be fine. I want to be certain no one else has been turned into a killing machine by the demons. Have every guard inspected, every civilian, too.” Doyle nodded as she issued commands, her voice steady despite exhaustion and grief weighing on her. He busied himself acting on her commands, sending his most trusted troops to begin the inspection while he saw Esmerra back to her chambers. She likely wasn’t going to get another wink of sleep tonight.
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Shanoris continued to watch as the shaman and the wolf sat across from each other with their eyes closed. She could tell there was some powerful energy between the two, but beyond that, she was blind to what was going on. She couldn’t stand being truly blind. These shamans and their spirit magic. So obnoxious. She pondered what to do. It seemed the simplest thing to ford the river with all her speed and take the troll while he was in the spirit world. And yet, she sensed if she did, the wolves and the elementals would protect the shaman from her. The elf huffed impatiently, but decided to bide her time anyway. They don’t know I’m here yet. I just have to wait for the opportune moment—
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Kazarak faced the spirit of Ashenfury with a guarded expression. Though the orc had regained control for now, it was no telling when the demonic corruption would tear his consciousness away again. He spoke quickly, “Elder, it is…good you answered my call. But what must be done…to free you?” The troll awaited a response patiently. Something told him he would be well protected for now.
Re: Ending the Hunt
Ashenfury furled his spectral brow in confusion. "We don't have long. It came back with me... the demon covets names and hides behind the title of bloodthirster. I struggle with it's minion. If you really want to help then learn it's name!"
The Orc squinted and peered at Kazarak. Then he wrinkled his nose and inhaled the void deeply before calmly continuing "This struggle is mine. What is your name and why are we here?"
The Orc squinted and peered at Kazarak. Then he wrinkled his nose and inhaled the void deeply before calmly continuing "This struggle is mine. What is your name and why are we here?"
Re: Ending the Hunt
"I am...Kazarak Bloodskull. I am a Grim, like you," Kaz replied. "I called to you...when I was imprisoned. The High Inquisitor told me...I could find you in the spirit world. It was my...only option. But I am free now. Thanks to you." The troll breathed a soft laugh. "I was supposed to...interview you. My second trial. An odd turn of events."
Re: Ending the Hunt
Ashenfury floated silently for a moment. He looked Kazarak up and down then burst into deep bellowing laughter. His laugh turned into a coughing fit that ended with the Orc spitting a comet like loogie into the void.
"After an eternity of wrestling the demon I'm finally granted respite by a supplicant!" Ashenfury chuckled. "You have helped more than you know by giving me back my name. I will not lose it again." The Orc tilted his head and looked through Kazarak.
The water elementals along the treeline slowly began to take more coherent shape and the rumble of thunder squelched as the clouds began to thin.
"Inform The Grim of the Bloodthirster. I must return lest the keymaster go unchallenged. Before I do, I believe you've earned your interview. Ask your questions, Supplicant." Ashenfury's lips curled around his tusks into a grin as he spoke the last word.
"After an eternity of wrestling the demon I'm finally granted respite by a supplicant!" Ashenfury chuckled. "You have helped more than you know by giving me back my name. I will not lose it again." The Orc tilted his head and looked through Kazarak.
The water elementals along the treeline slowly began to take more coherent shape and the rumble of thunder squelched as the clouds began to thin.
"Inform The Grim of the Bloodthirster. I must return lest the keymaster go unchallenged. Before I do, I believe you've earned your interview. Ask your questions, Supplicant." Ashenfury's lips curled around his tusks into a grin as he spoke the last word.
Re: Ending the Hunt
Kazarak allowed himself to relax further, and began his questions, "How did you...come to join the Grim? What does the Mandate...mean to you?"
Re: Ending the Hunt
I sought purpose. In meditation I asked the spirits to guide me. I was to seek a spirit whisperer named Yichimet. I journeyed through the Twisting Nether and on the other side I heard the steady rhythm of a drum. I found the source within the tents of Thunder Bluff. He beat the exotic skin as he told me of the mandate.
When he finished he quit playing the drum and for the first time since I could remember I enjoyed the solace of silence. Little did I know my journey was only beginning. I pledged to the Mandate and subjected myself to the inquisition.
The mandate is not only the cornerstone of our ideology. It is the tapestry woven by the many threads of The Grim. To fight Grim is to battle an idea. An unchanging idea that was here before me and will remain long after I'm gone.
When he finished he quit playing the drum and for the first time since I could remember I enjoyed the solace of silence. Little did I know my journey was only beginning. I pledged to the Mandate and subjected myself to the inquisition.
The mandate is not only the cornerstone of our ideology. It is the tapestry woven by the many threads of The Grim. To fight Grim is to battle an idea. An unchanging idea that was here before me and will remain long after I'm gone.
Re: Ending the Hunt
"What do you contribute...to the cause? What has...the struggle for peace...turned you into? And where...do you plan to go...from here?"
Re: Ending the Hunt
For now I serve as one of many guardians of the spirit realm. Even now the bloodthirster plots to bring his legions through the void.
The relentless struggle has broken me many times over. Each time I reform stronger. Such are the repercussions of the Mandate. It has turned me into Grim. The struggle is different for each servant as you are no doubt learning.
Now that I know of the demon's tricks I will hold my name close and seek a moment of weakness to wrest control of my corporeal form.
The relentless struggle has broken me many times over. Each time I reform stronger. Such are the repercussions of the Mandate. It has turned me into Grim. The struggle is different for each servant as you are no doubt learning.
Now that I know of the demon's tricks I will hold my name close and seek a moment of weakness to wrest control of my corporeal form.
Re: Ending the Hunt
"I have...but three more questions. How many people...have you killed? Why did you kill them? What have you learned...from their deaths?"
Re: Ending the Hunt
"The bean counters have kept tally of my honorable combat. The numbers are not important. Only victory." [ 47k honorable kills ]
Ashenfury's image begins to contort. His chipped tusk grows too large for his mouth. As he continues his voice churns like gravel under foot.
"To snuff the flames of their existence and tear them asunder!" Ashenfury yelled. With each word he grew more excited. "The Mandate demands annihilation!"
The Orc closed his eyes and visibly calmed. "I have learned that there is no other way." Ashenfury finished. He opened his eyes and stared at the Supplicant. "Find the name, Kazarak. I cannot hold forever." [[ Ash learned a lot of touching lessons from battle like the loss of comrades, even heroes can fall, and that he himself has many weaknesses. Unfortunately you'll never get that out of him. ]]
Just as quickly and violently as it began the meeting ended. The clouds had completely cleared and the river was subsiding. Kazarak looked up expecting to see the sickly canine. As he lifted his chin he was surprised to see a very large and regal white wolf standing proudly.
The wolf darted for the treeline. Before he reached the shadows of the bush he stopped and howled. The air erupted with the deafening sound of wolves. Ashenfury turned to look at Kazarak before running full speed into a tree. The wolf shook his head and meandered into the undergrowth flanked by the water elementals. The many wolves dispersed as quickly and mysteriously as they had appeared
The dark wolf sat wagging its tail back and forth along the dirt. Two red embers hovering in shadow peered into the caverns of time. The master's name must be scrubbed from history. The historians of the great war shall be silenced. The monuments brought to ruin. And the gateway opened.
The bloodthirster beckons. The flesh hound obeys.
Ashenfury's image begins to contort. His chipped tusk grows too large for his mouth. As he continues his voice churns like gravel under foot.
"To snuff the flames of their existence and tear them asunder!" Ashenfury yelled. With each word he grew more excited. "The Mandate demands annihilation!"
The Orc closed his eyes and visibly calmed. "I have learned that there is no other way." Ashenfury finished. He opened his eyes and stared at the Supplicant. "Find the name, Kazarak. I cannot hold forever." [[ Ash learned a lot of touching lessons from battle like the loss of comrades, even heroes can fall, and that he himself has many weaknesses. Unfortunately you'll never get that out of him. ]]
Just as quickly and violently as it began the meeting ended. The clouds had completely cleared and the river was subsiding. Kazarak looked up expecting to see the sickly canine. As he lifted his chin he was surprised to see a very large and regal white wolf standing proudly.
The wolf darted for the treeline. Before he reached the shadows of the bush he stopped and howled. The air erupted with the deafening sound of wolves. Ashenfury turned to look at Kazarak before running full speed into a tree. The wolf shook his head and meandered into the undergrowth flanked by the water elementals. The many wolves dispersed as quickly and mysteriously as they had appeared
The dark wolf sat wagging its tail back and forth along the dirt. Two red embers hovering in shadow peered into the caverns of time. The master's name must be scrubbed from history. The historians of the great war shall be silenced. The monuments brought to ruin. And the gateway opened.
The bloodthirster beckons. The flesh hound obeys.
Re: Ending the Hunt
The following night...
Kazarak turned over and closed his eyes, hoping to get some sleep. His body throbbed painfully, especially his throat. He’d done too much talking tonight, most of which he couldn’t remember now. Between the Inquisition, the fight in Azshara, the bad trip from the drugs Lucky Lokai gave him the Cleft of Shadow, the confrontation afterwards, and the return to the Wyvern’s Tail all added up. It took a lot to drive Kazarak from his usual insomniac ways, but today had been a rough day. Not his roughest, but it came close. His throat and stump arm ached, and his more recent knife wounds stabbed at him with every beat of his heart. More than that, he felt the twinge of failure sting at the back of his mind. He’d failed again and again. He’d lost any chance at…whatever he’d been looking for with Lilliana. He needed a win tonight. He had a feeling he couldn’t get a minute of sleep otherwise. Kaz flopped out of the netted cot and stumbled downstairs. A few patrons still milled about the bar, chatting about this and that. Kaz had forgotten about them. He was focused only on where he was going, and what he would do when he got there.
Kazarak overlooked the tent where he did all his dealings with the troll who called himself Lucky Lokai. He was an herb dealer in the Cleft of Shadow, well-known in the Orgrimmar underworld for his inconsistent wares. Still, he had a way of losing competition that no one was fool enough to believe was truly luck. He’d never taken advantage of Kaz’s desperation and addiction to Healer’s Bliss before, but tonight Kaz had gotten one of the worst trips from whatever herb he’d been sold. In an attempt to confront the dealer, he’d been ambushed by Lokai’s thugs. Kaz intended to pay them back. He was watching for them this time, and not stumbling in, mind addled from drugs and booze. The shaman sniffed the air. Six goons outside. One Lokai inside. Kaz sniffed again. There was a smell he didn’t recognize from his last visit. He cast his far sight into the tent, peering through the tiniest gap between the flaps. Lokai wasn’t alone. Even from the distance, Kaz recognized the cries of a young orc boy. The shaman gritted his teeth. That sick bastard. He advanced down into the lion’s den, sticking to the shadows.
“Scream again, mon,” Lokai’s voice came from the tent, “An’ I’ll pick ya eyes out. Now stop flappin’ ya gums and take what I give ya!” Kaz grabbed a rock from the ground. He bent the element of earth, sharpening it into a spike. The nearest thugs leaned up against a stack of boxes, both trying to ignore what was going on in the tent they guarded. Kaz made it easier for them. He kicked over the stack, sending the two orcs careening into a pile of wood and limbs. Kaz bent over and drove his earthen spike into the eye of one thug. He was dead in an instant. The next moved to stand. Kaz drew the air out of his lungs, preventing him from screaming. Then he kicked the man’s leg out from under him and stabbed the spike into his temple, and yanked it back out in a swift motion. The next pair of guards were already approaching, and the other were glancing his way from the other side of the tent. Kaz moved to meet the next pair halfway. One of them swung a knife, aimed for his head. Kaz ducked under it, punching the orc’s abdomen. Kaz stepped past him as he doubled-over. The next guard leveled a fist at his throat. Kaz tilted his head so the fist slid across his tusk, slicing the hand open. Kaz spun, getting behind the orc and grabbing him around the throat. A quick, sharp tug and the orc’s neck snapped. His buddy whirled around, mouth foaming with fury as he lunged, a step more carefully this time. Kaz flung the dead orc at him, sending him off-balance. Kaz threw his spike into the man’s shoulder and flung himself into a frenzied series of punches and kicks, blocking the knife and securing vital blows to the orc’s neck and legs until he collapsed on the ground, gasping for air. Kaz grinned in celebration, letting his guard down just long enough for the next pair of guards to get the drop on him.
One of them grabbed Kaz’s braids and tugged his head back, bringing a knife down at his throat. Kaz grabbed the man’s wrist and gripped it hard enough to loosen the thug’s grip, sending his dagger falling to the floor. Kaz smashed the back of his head into the orc’s nose and spun as the next orc sliced across his midsection. A thin line of blood dribbled forth from a wounded opened on his abdomen. Kaz growled and lunged, going for the orc’s eye. The attacker yelled out loud as blood burst from his eye socket. The knife came in for another stab. Kaz knocked the hand away. The first orc, nose slick with blood, tackled him with massive arms. Kaz slammed into the ground, his vision blurring as his old wounds opened again. The orc started pounding on his face, holding his tusk to keep his head steady. Kaz’s face became bloodied and bruised with every blow. The other orc shoved his friend roughly off Kaz and brought his knife down, shouting with effort. Kaz bashed the ground with his fist, and a pillar of rock smacked the unarmed orc into the path of the knife. Kaz called to the earth again and slid out from under the dying orc’s body, then bounced off the ground using the air. Then he leapt forward, grabbed the knife as the orc tried to pull it free, disarmed him with a sharp twist, kicked the orc in the groin, and drove the knife upwards into his face as he lowered it in reaction to the blow. He fell to the ground, dead. Kaz made for the tent without delay.
Lokai stood up against the back of the tent, his dusky robe hastily tied up. A knife was in one hand, the orc boy’s arm in the other. Lokai looked at Kaz with terrified eyes. “You…you alive?” Kaz took a step forward. Lokai’s eyes widened further, and he brandished the knife. Kaz felt his fear ripple like a stone in a pond. “I’m warnin’ ya, mon!” Kaz took another step. Lokai dropped the knife and let the kid go. The child ducked into a corner and hid behind some candles. The drug dealer lifted his hands where Kaz could see them, surrendering. “Alright, alright, you win! Whadya want, eh? Healer’s Bliss?” Kaz stepped forward. Lokai was within arm’s reach now. “No? Somethin’…stronger?” Lokai’s eyes happened to glance at the child. “What about the kid, mon?” Kaz paused. Lokai smiled like a card player with a winning hand. “Aaaah, now we got a deal cookin’, huh? You let me go, I’ll ovahlook tha dead thugs. You get the kid, free o’ charge!”
Kazarak’s hand froze, forming a sharp spike of ice. Lokai never saw it coming. His throat slit, he fell to the ground, dead. The kid shrieked. Kaz looked at him. He could feel blood on his face. “Don’t be scared,” he said calmly. “I’m taking you home.” The kid ran out of the tent. Kaz noticed movement out of the corner of his eye. He braced himself and spun to face another attacker. He stopped and relaxed when he saw what it was. A looking glass, with his reflection. His face was splattered with crimson dots and gashes. In the shadows cast by the dim candles, Kaz’s face looked like the face of death. He smiled.
Kazarak turned over and closed his eyes, hoping to get some sleep. His body throbbed painfully, especially his throat. He’d done too much talking tonight, most of which he couldn’t remember now. Between the Inquisition, the fight in Azshara, the bad trip from the drugs Lucky Lokai gave him the Cleft of Shadow, the confrontation afterwards, and the return to the Wyvern’s Tail all added up. It took a lot to drive Kazarak from his usual insomniac ways, but today had been a rough day. Not his roughest, but it came close. His throat and stump arm ached, and his more recent knife wounds stabbed at him with every beat of his heart. More than that, he felt the twinge of failure sting at the back of his mind. He’d failed again and again. He’d lost any chance at…whatever he’d been looking for with Lilliana. He needed a win tonight. He had a feeling he couldn’t get a minute of sleep otherwise. Kaz flopped out of the netted cot and stumbled downstairs. A few patrons still milled about the bar, chatting about this and that. Kaz had forgotten about them. He was focused only on where he was going, and what he would do when he got there.
Kazarak overlooked the tent where he did all his dealings with the troll who called himself Lucky Lokai. He was an herb dealer in the Cleft of Shadow, well-known in the Orgrimmar underworld for his inconsistent wares. Still, he had a way of losing competition that no one was fool enough to believe was truly luck. He’d never taken advantage of Kaz’s desperation and addiction to Healer’s Bliss before, but tonight Kaz had gotten one of the worst trips from whatever herb he’d been sold. In an attempt to confront the dealer, he’d been ambushed by Lokai’s thugs. Kaz intended to pay them back. He was watching for them this time, and not stumbling in, mind addled from drugs and booze. The shaman sniffed the air. Six goons outside. One Lokai inside. Kaz sniffed again. There was a smell he didn’t recognize from his last visit. He cast his far sight into the tent, peering through the tiniest gap between the flaps. Lokai wasn’t alone. Even from the distance, Kaz recognized the cries of a young orc boy. The shaman gritted his teeth. That sick bastard. He advanced down into the lion’s den, sticking to the shadows.
“Scream again, mon,” Lokai’s voice came from the tent, “An’ I’ll pick ya eyes out. Now stop flappin’ ya gums and take what I give ya!” Kaz grabbed a rock from the ground. He bent the element of earth, sharpening it into a spike. The nearest thugs leaned up against a stack of boxes, both trying to ignore what was going on in the tent they guarded. Kaz made it easier for them. He kicked over the stack, sending the two orcs careening into a pile of wood and limbs. Kaz bent over and drove his earthen spike into the eye of one thug. He was dead in an instant. The next moved to stand. Kaz drew the air out of his lungs, preventing him from screaming. Then he kicked the man’s leg out from under him and stabbed the spike into his temple, and yanked it back out in a swift motion. The next pair of guards were already approaching, and the other were glancing his way from the other side of the tent. Kaz moved to meet the next pair halfway. One of them swung a knife, aimed for his head. Kaz ducked under it, punching the orc’s abdomen. Kaz stepped past him as he doubled-over. The next guard leveled a fist at his throat. Kaz tilted his head so the fist slid across his tusk, slicing the hand open. Kaz spun, getting behind the orc and grabbing him around the throat. A quick, sharp tug and the orc’s neck snapped. His buddy whirled around, mouth foaming with fury as he lunged, a step more carefully this time. Kaz flung the dead orc at him, sending him off-balance. Kaz threw his spike into the man’s shoulder and flung himself into a frenzied series of punches and kicks, blocking the knife and securing vital blows to the orc’s neck and legs until he collapsed on the ground, gasping for air. Kaz grinned in celebration, letting his guard down just long enough for the next pair of guards to get the drop on him.
One of them grabbed Kaz’s braids and tugged his head back, bringing a knife down at his throat. Kaz grabbed the man’s wrist and gripped it hard enough to loosen the thug’s grip, sending his dagger falling to the floor. Kaz smashed the back of his head into the orc’s nose and spun as the next orc sliced across his midsection. A thin line of blood dribbled forth from a wounded opened on his abdomen. Kaz growled and lunged, going for the orc’s eye. The attacker yelled out loud as blood burst from his eye socket. The knife came in for another stab. Kaz knocked the hand away. The first orc, nose slick with blood, tackled him with massive arms. Kaz slammed into the ground, his vision blurring as his old wounds opened again. The orc started pounding on his face, holding his tusk to keep his head steady. Kaz’s face became bloodied and bruised with every blow. The other orc shoved his friend roughly off Kaz and brought his knife down, shouting with effort. Kaz bashed the ground with his fist, and a pillar of rock smacked the unarmed orc into the path of the knife. Kaz called to the earth again and slid out from under the dying orc’s body, then bounced off the ground using the air. Then he leapt forward, grabbed the knife as the orc tried to pull it free, disarmed him with a sharp twist, kicked the orc in the groin, and drove the knife upwards into his face as he lowered it in reaction to the blow. He fell to the ground, dead. Kaz made for the tent without delay.
Lokai stood up against the back of the tent, his dusky robe hastily tied up. A knife was in one hand, the orc boy’s arm in the other. Lokai looked at Kaz with terrified eyes. “You…you alive?” Kaz took a step forward. Lokai’s eyes widened further, and he brandished the knife. Kaz felt his fear ripple like a stone in a pond. “I’m warnin’ ya, mon!” Kaz took another step. Lokai dropped the knife and let the kid go. The child ducked into a corner and hid behind some candles. The drug dealer lifted his hands where Kaz could see them, surrendering. “Alright, alright, you win! Whadya want, eh? Healer’s Bliss?” Kaz stepped forward. Lokai was within arm’s reach now. “No? Somethin’…stronger?” Lokai’s eyes happened to glance at the child. “What about the kid, mon?” Kaz paused. Lokai smiled like a card player with a winning hand. “Aaaah, now we got a deal cookin’, huh? You let me go, I’ll ovahlook tha dead thugs. You get the kid, free o’ charge!”
Kazarak’s hand froze, forming a sharp spike of ice. Lokai never saw it coming. His throat slit, he fell to the ground, dead. The kid shrieked. Kaz looked at him. He could feel blood on his face. “Don’t be scared,” he said calmly. “I’m taking you home.” The kid ran out of the tent. Kaz noticed movement out of the corner of his eye. He braced himself and spun to face another attacker. He stopped and relaxed when he saw what it was. A looking glass, with his reflection. His face was splattered with crimson dots and gashes. In the shadows cast by the dim candles, Kaz’s face looked like the face of death. He smiled.