Warcraft Fan Fiction ❯ The Cronicles of a Spy ❯ Trading Sides ( Chapter 4 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

Chapter 4: Trading Sides
Istalri awoke to a sharp pain in her head, she could barely remember the ride into the city, but attempts to rub her head made her realize just exactly where she was. One eye opened against the pain while the other winced closed, the swollen socket keeping the blue eye from opening. The room was dark, and she seemed to be hanging several feet from the ground, and a puddle of dry blood surrounded the ground below her. It wasn't a shock to realize that it was her blood, it was a shock to realize, however, that she was in a dungeon, and that the sting she felt was not from her body going to sleep. She'd been beaten? That didn't sound right, but she couldn't get her lungs to co-operate with her enough to call out for the guard, and Vega didn't seem to be in sight.
The clinking of chains told her she wasn't alone, and the footsteps and groans alerted her to the guard's return, she watched them with her one good eye as they hung up a very beaten looking Human with red and silver hair. It took her a moment to figure out that the red was blood, and that that was her beloved they were hanging up. She gritted her teeth against the pain, and spoke up.
What the FUCK do you think you're doing to us? He's with me, and I DEMAND a council with Thrall this instant!
“You're in no position to demand anything, half blood, you broke the agreement, and like hell we're going to stick our necks out for alliance scum like the two of you.”
And what the Hell points to the fact we're still Alliance scum?
“You didn't kill the king, we checked, little miss priss, oh, not when we brought you here, but a few days later we had one of our own steal away in a cart and found out a lot by just listening. Oh they're mad at you, little bird, running off like that and knocking out the king. I must admit though, that magnetic hilt sticking out of the armor was convincing as all hell. They apparently wore out 5 priests trying to heal the `damage' you did.” Istalri ignored the mockery of her name, and glared at the man, who she couldn't see very well, but she thought was the same Blood Elf that had lead the party of her capture. She cleared her throat, and tried to speak clearly instead of the rasp she'd been able to muster previously.
“I suppose, I still don't get a name then, even if that was the wish of someone on her last days?” She'd tried to line the statement with as much sultry as she could, but between the winces and cringes, it sounded more like a plea, and she mentally snarled at herself for it.
“It's Tianara.”
“My name; it's Tianara.”
“Well then, let me explain just exactly what you messed up. Had you not come along, I had chains being brought to me, I was going to knock them out and cuff the king, bringing him back here for Lord Thrall to kill himself. After King Wyrnn's stupid move of trying to kill him in Undercity, it was the least I could do. It was because of YOU that I had to place the hilt there. It was because of YOU I didn't finish my job, and it was because of YOU that I got beaten. It's safe to say, I don't like you right now.”
As she spoke she lifted herself up so her feet were on the chains, pulling the entire block of stone from the wall behind her and having her drop to the floor, whirling the two objects on the end of the chains like bolas.
“You sure you want to do that little bird? In the world of fighting, I've never seen a rogue walk away victorious from a fight against a Pally, especially not against a tankadin.”
“Well, if my goal was to be victorious, you'd be right, I wouldn't have a chance.” as she spoke she whipped the left one out, pulling one of his legs out from under him, the other wrapping around his arm as he reached for his weapon. One hand grabbed the keys while he was wrestling to get his other hand free, and she clipped the cuffs around the working arm and free leg. Once he was effectively hog tied, she let Vega down from his binds, letting him land on her back.
“See ya round, Tiara.” The howl of his voice followed her up the passage, and when she could see light, she sprinted the rest of the way, slowed only slightly by the extra weight and protesting muscles. As she came into the light, she found herself in a wide room lit by large torches, guarded heavily. Her eyes squinted, and even though she was unarmed, she prepared herself for a fight.
“Well, it seems the phoenix has once again arisen from the ashes. Welcome back, Istalri.” The deep voice made her turn, putting her face to face with the ruler of the horde himself. She immediately kneeled, setting Vega on the ground beside her.
“My Liege.” her voice stayed steady, much to her approval. “I must apologize, I would be handing you king Wrynn but some…complications…interrupted that plan and I was forced to think quickly. I had hoped-”
“SILENCE!” He rose from his chair, and picked her up by the collar of the rags she once called armor. “You claim to have wanted to bring the king, yet you falsely said you killed him, why?”
“I could not be certain at that point, that the party that was sent truly served you. I had asked for chains. I was going to knock him out and place him on my mount, and bring him back to you so that you might have that honor yourself.” A few ooo's went up from the guards, and she was dropped back down onto the ground.
“And this Filth you brought back with you? A replacement for what you failed to bring me?”
“No, he insisted that he come with me to ensure my health, he does not share the thoughts of the king of what were once his people, and he would follow me to hell and back.”
“You did not bring him before.”
“Would you have brought one of your followers into what was hostile territory to them without reason?”
“Then you should expect me to follow such a fine example.” More ooo's followed, and he silenced them with a glare.
“Very well.”
“Sire…if I may…he's still unconscious, and I myself am not in the best shape, may we humbly ask to be guided to the nearest healer?”
“Reasonable request, granted. I trust that my Paladin that was down stairs with you is still in one piece?”
“He is…but he's a bit tied up at the moment.”
“Hm…very well, then you shall be shown to your quarters, and a priest sent to you…I trust that sharing quarters shall not be a problem.”
“It shall be fine…may I also ask that you have someone assist me in carrying him to these appointed quarters?”
“No, you shall do that much yourself. You are the one who brought him here, and he shall be your burden.”
“Fair enough.” She waited for the person to get there, and they all waited for the classic dismissed before she turned to go. “Oh, where's my saber? He'll be worried sick about me.”
“I doubt that…since he's dead. We'll provide you with the skin when you are feeling better.” The voice didn't come from Thrall, but the warrior that was leading her to her quarters. The news made her stop in her tracks.
“You…killed…Spooky? That cat has been my partner since I was a youngin'!”
“And now you start a new life.” The warrior continued walking, and Istalri was forced to pick up the pace to keep up with him, but her eyes were downcast. She bit back a choking sob to ask the second question.
“And Vega's charger?”
“Alive, undergoing changes to the horde paladin's mount.” She breathed a sigh of relief, at least their wouldn't be two people destroyed by grief, but she was going to need some time, even to just put up a strong front. They continued the trek in silence, and she barely noticed when the warrior stopped. “Here we are.”
She looked up, masking her pain, and entered the room, setting Vega down on the bed, then set herself in an easy chair. Her eyes looked back to the Warrior, who she only now noticed was an orc male, his shoulders squared. Her breath came out in a warning hiss.
“Find out what happened to our weapons, and KNOCK when you get back with them. You're dismissed!” The boy slammed the door shut as he quickly ran out, and she curled upon herself. Her childhood friend, the amazing creature that became family to her, that not long ago saved her life, was gone. All because of that paladin, that idiot that had caused her to fail. He would pay, she would make sure of it, even if she had to take down half of the army, he would pay.
Istalri awoke to a hand on her shoulder, the warm hands of a healer. It was instinctual to think that it was Vega, and she leapt up, wrapping her arms around they're shoulders. It wasn't until she noticed the breasts, and the feminine smell that she quickly put herself back down in the chair, staring at the blood elf that held only sympathy in her eyes.
“He's in bad shape…and you lost your mount, I understand. I would feel the same…” She motioned to the bed where a much better looking human rested soundly. “It'll take a few days before he's back up on his feet, so you'll have to let me take care of you for now.” When she nodded and started to stand, she felt the hands on her shoulders.
“Stay seated, don't exert yourself…”
Istalri leaned her head back and let her breathing slow, drifting back into what she hoped would be a dreamless sleep.
She was standing on a battlefield, scarred, but kept warm by a furred cloak that she somehow knew was made from Spooky's pelt. Bones littered the ground, and behind her gathered a force of an army, both Alliance and Horde gathered behind her, but immediately behind her was a group of mixed race. Her hair had grayed slightly, not enough that would make her a Granny, but she had definitely seen better days. Thrall stood at her right, though Vega stood at her left, which she presumed meant the death of the king of Stormwind. The other leaders, minus that of the undercity, of course, stood behind the others.
“My Queen.” The booming voice of Thrall chimed, respect held in his voice. “Arthas' army awaits us over the double hill, he seems to think that he's got the element of surprise.”
“As much as I wish that were true, my fine orc, it's not…He's just waiting for an old friend.” She turned to face her people. “Stay here…If I am not back by tomorrow, then you turn tail and go back to your homes. If I am back, but as Scourge, kill me and give me a proper burial. If I come back with the ability to lead, then I shall give you orders then.”
Once more she awoke, but this time, she was alone, no healer there, Vega was sound asleep, and when she got up to move, she found that her muscles wouldn't respond immediately. Perhaps she was a little too good at her job. Her eyes wandered the room, and she forced herself up, bracing herself against the chair until she was able to stand on her own. She couldn't do much for now, and as she looked in the mirror, she found her eyes almost the same color red as the markings she bore. A great leaderperhaps that old crone did know what she was talking about when she gave that speech. Fingers traced the markings she'd been given, and her eyes closed, only to open again when she heard a knock.
“Come in.” At the sound of the door opening, she turned to face the boy, and pointed at the floor. “Good, everything's here…we'll need some new clothes as well, these can barely be considered dish rags anymore.” She looked at the boy. “And, get me my cat's pelt, or arrange for it, and have it made into a mantle and cape.” As the boy again closed the door and walked away, Istalri looked back into the mirror and sighed.
“So it begins….”