A freezing, merciless gale was betokening a storm. From time to time sun winked through the clefts of the clouds but in a moment a sky rumble devoured the light. Snow and water, all mixed together were piercing the skin, making hope to survive burn and weaken. Pitch black sea water was crushing the ship hull, roaring, toying with the vessel, laughing at the helpless victim, then waters were falling back and crushing it with an even stronger, renewed force. Sea was singing its triumph.
Goblins of the ship crew were running all across the deck, screaming something in panic, trying to handle the helpless ship and save their lives. From time to time they glanced at the captain with awareness in their eyes – human was holding the wooden railings so waters don’t throw him outside and peered at the shadow in front of the ship. Someone wearing a pirate hat was standing on the rostrum, embracing the sea storm and laughing at it. Captain was muttering something through his wet salty beard.
- He’s a madman…Losing his life for nothing… and taking ours too! You are sick!! - he laughed hysterically, with hopeless tears in his eyes. And a yell tore the storm in respond.
You are madmen! Why aren’t your ambitions more furious than that storm! Why don’t you want to live at least now, at the very end of your existence! You are afraid to die for nothing my friends – too afraid to live any longer!
Stranger looked over his shoulder and threw a glare full of defiance at the mess on the deck.
So what do I see there? The dedication to determine what is wrong and what is not. Lack of free will to choose something for themselves, lack of guts to overcome orders, laws or duty… spineless worms, trying to control lives when they don’t even know who they are!
White grin reflected light of a thunderbolt.
So they don’t understand me… Do I look like a freak? Killing whenever I want, doing whatever I feel to, mocking their laws and values. So I have to be loyal, follow orders, accept others mistakes and be ready to sacrifice myself. Been there, done that. Path of a weakling. Do they realize that to rise high, to rule the world, to become something more than a tool you have to realize your own misery first, find the shackles that bind your soul and mind – that is pain. And only then, from the bottom of that misery, you stand up from your bleeding knees and heart start beating! Rise above this world!
His eyes were glowing bright and broad grin was challenging the skies. Storm gale and furious waters tried to destroy him, crush his body and shatter the mind – but he was enjoying it! While half of the crew was already gone in the waters, some of the survived passengers hid inside of the ship, he was standing in the middle of the storm and striving to reach the land of Northrend.
This is my goal, this is my fight. And noone dares to cross my way… I am finally free of the Horde and their laws, of the Forsaken and their maniacal ideas – and that’s why my will is unbreakable. I’m deaf to their values and prayers – that’s why I can hear greater songs of the world! I see my misery and that’s why my path is bound to be a triumph!
His soul was crying in ecstasy, in an epicenter of the most precious and inhuman purpose. And that yell clashed with the storm, vessel wood crackled and was torn to pieces when the ship hit an underwater rock. Black sea like a beast was eating humans, goblins – every being, one by one twisting their minds and mutilating their bodies. An undead wearing pirate hat was no longer visible in the maw of elements but all that symphony of wrath, terror, sound of breaking bones, furious winds, lightning and thunder of the skies, sea waters – has drowned in one possessed undying laughter.
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
Monday, November 17, 2008
Rogue Yell. Part 2.
It seems that heat of the Vale wasn't reigning only in the oceanic waters. Even though azure sea was warm if you take a deeper look – you could find only rare fishes there (partially, because most of those have been caught by a certain alliance druid), some algae and a lot of cold. Right by the deep ocean floor there was a man walking, quietly bubbling out some song motive. Slowly, step by step, he was flowing his way to Booty Bay.
There is a plan… no… The Plan! Those silly armies forget most important matters, they go and fight for their leader or for the survival. I do find that pathetic.
Glowing yellow eyes glanced at the water surface above – there was a dark black pitch. Apparently, a ship and some line disappearing down in the water. A wry grin distorted man’s face. He steadily followed the path line was showing and soon it appeared to be a hawser. Man opened his pouch and took out a compact goblin bomb, attached it to the chain, pressed something and started quickly swimming to ship above. In a minute an explosion sound ripped his ear. Man grabbed the rest of the iron chain…
On a deck of the ship tough goblins were dragging the anchor on the ship – it looked like it’s been cut off as the ship was slowly drifting away of the berth. Some man was yelling at the rest – by the looks of his hat he was a captain when an orc with a company of Horde soldiers approached him and peered at the crew, hustling around the ship deck.
- What’s going on here, captain? I thought this ship is leaving in an hour, according to your own schedule.
- I am terribly sorry, it seems you haven’t been informed about… the latest changes in our schedule – human hesitated for a moment – Anyway, according to my list every passenger is at the ship so we’ll just arrive one our earlier. Is that a problem?
Orc remained silent for sometime, staring at the captain, then shrugged and walked off. In a few steps he gave a sign to stay on guard to one of his soldiers.
- There’s something weird in all that… - he frowned. Captain sighed with relief.
- I so dislike having Horde legionnaires on the board… - he glanced at the alliance mage standing by the board and indifferently gazing to the distance – well… worse is only having both the Horde and the Alliance at the same time.
Goblins yelled something and captain rushed to the anchor rack but… there was no anchor. Goblin demonstrated a cut off hawser piece and shrugged.
- A sabotage? – muttered captain, inspecting the breakage – Hell no, must be that underwater giant having fun again – he turned to his first mate - Drop down a couple of underwater bombs – that’d calm him down. And tell the rest of the crew to prepare for the trip. We’re setting off!
Goblin crew were preparing for immediate start and in a moment first mate with several goblins rolling the bombs came out of the hold and puffing rolled over the board a couple of heavy underwater bombs. There was water splash and bombs started sinking. Soon, when bombs reach the necessary depth through the precise cracks made by professional engineers water will pour into the complex mechanism, activating triggers and exploding the bomb, shattering everything around to pieces. But that would be for nothing this time – a wry grin from above was watching bombs sinking. A faint sound of wooden crackle quietly laughed as sharp nails were carving into the ship hull, holding someone with bright yellow eyes. The ship was slowly turning and setting its course to Ratchet on another continent. In a few weeks though noone has met that ship there as noone has ever seen it after this strange departure.
A few days have passed, there was brilliant weather for the sailing – sea was dead calm and tail-wind was making trip safe and enjoyable. Apart from a bar fight between horde and alliance soldiers nothing exciting happened and captain was lying on the upper deck and smoking something that apparently made him feel a lot happier. Seagulls flying around and sometimes doing their exiting business at the goblins, working at the ship, have noticed some movement at the ship hull, as if there was some weird shadow on it. But seagulls don’t care about such things.
Later same evening, when the dusk chilling breeze finally took over the heat, last sunlight blinked over the horizon and ship’s visitors hid inside, having some funny talks in the bar, exactly at that moment – a wry grin with glowing eyes has awoken. Carving its nails into the ship wood, quietly it was moving up. On a deck first mate and captain were loudly discussing or arguing about something, sipping rum right out of the bottle. First thing first mate noticed was actually a soaked up pirate hat appearing behind the board. He blinked and noticed another thing – glowing eyes and distorted white grin on someone’s face. That was also the last thing he noticed because next moment he fell down with a throwing axe carved into his neck. Captain turned around, unsheathing his rapier but stranger with a swift motion jumped over the railing and dashed to the human, hitting him off the ground. A bony, rough hand strongly gripped him by the throat, making unable to scream or breathe. Drops of water were falling from stranger’s clothes on a captain, making him slightly shiver of the cold. Then silent and calm voice chilly murmured…
Starting from now, you will do whatever I tell you. Your first mate… is sleeping in his room because he’s so… bloody tired – there was a faint laughter in the voice, then glowing eyes narrowed, staring through the human – Also, I am now a passenger. Just a usual… being on your ship. With sharp daggers though and a very precise realization of his own purpose, no matter what the situation around is. And you are brave enough to help me on this exiting journey – stranger stuffed some paper in a pocket on captain’s jacket then grabbed a bottle of rum that was rolling between dead body of first mate and choking captain releasing the grip just so captain could take a breath – We are to change the course of this ship… All the details are written on that paper. Don’t question it and don’t show to anyone. Make some excuse so your crew wouldn’t ask questions – stranger grinned – So welcome me abroad! My name is Gharb. This rum… and this ship, are now unofficially mine.
The following morning ship passengers and the crew noticed a few unusual things. A newcomer on the vessel (was he sleeping somewhere?), disappearance of a first mate and paleness of captain’s face (perhaps, it was a side effect of rum?). Noone really saw him this night, when he was drunk to boot after the night conversation but sobered up in just a moment after reading the note.
- Northrend?! But that’s… a suicide! – he dropped on the chair, staring into the dirty note with some coordinates written, not believing his eyes – We.. we even don’t have enough supplies to sail there! Not to mention that I just fail to see a way to explain all of that to my crew and passengers!
He lifted his head and noticed some shadow through the tinted window of his cabin-door. Then from another side someone passing by pointed at the window and with a sharp, disgusting sound scratched it with a nail. Captain swallowed and muttered something. He stayed in his cabin till the late morning.
Next day Gharb walked into a bar, decided that it’s worth of his presence. After all it was a ship and where’s ship there are sailors and where are sailors – there is rum. It was a small cozy room with several pieces of wooden furniture, counter and goods mostly consisting of different kinds of alcohol. A couple of passengers were lying their face down on the tables – it was either magnificent night aftermath taking over or sea-sickness. Or a bit of both. As in almost any bar Gharb has been at – there was a dark corner with someone sitting there in the shadows. Sometimes Gharb asked himself if such corners were made on purpose… Dim candles fire enlightened barman’s face who was peering at the newcomer with some sort of a professional curiosity. When visitor approached the counter barman without saying a word simply poured a pint of rum and handed it over, greeting with a slight nod. Gharb smirked and nodded back – approving man’s sharp intuition, grabbed the pint and dried it in two gulps.
Too bad my friend that this is a dead end… I wish world would have more professionals like you. But well, maybe I could just throw you out of the ship, hopefully you can swim – Gharb glanced around searchingly, noticed someone sitting in the shadows and narrowed eyes – I’ll be damned a thousand times… what an… ironic luck! That must be Taerak himself! Well… that proves to be a fairy interesting trip, indeed.
He whispered something to the barman and soon waiter put a pint of ale on the shady table. Person sitting by it looked over his shoulder and Gharb raised his pint in a greeting, dried it and smirked faintly. Slowly he stood up and approached Taerak.
Well, well, well… what an unexpected meeting! Taerak himself and, considering I’ve seen some other horde soldiers around, with a company! I’ve noticed one of the grunts was a female though – that’s bad luck for a vessel…unless it’s a honeymoon trip - he grinned.
- And then worse luck nonetheless.
Gharb cackled and nodded at the chair.
May I?
- Of course. Business as usual, then, what about you? – Taerak nodded. Gharb without blinking an eye smiled broadly.
Usual stuff. Travelling around Azeroth you know. I spend a lot of time in Stranglethorn lately… remarkable memories. Lately I’ve heard about some Scourge activity so going to do a research on that matter – he sipped rest of the rum and gave a sign to the barman to refresh it – Heard anything about it?
- The only reason why I'm in this forsaken watering hole is because I'm waiting on the boat back – Taerak raised an eyebrow in surprise – And it’s more than just rumours Gharb.
So you're on your way to Orgrimmar? Does Thrall want some help there or it's just another duty to do? I've noticed you're not the only one high-ranked on this ship.
- I'm hardly high ranked anymore, Gharb – warlock smirked and gulped some ale - But yes, for what it's worth, it's a duty. One that I dont have any qualms about fulfilling.
I still remember the times when we fought besides. And yes, we've been given some "reward" for our efforts. Even if most don't care - you still bear the rank of the Horde soldier. Isn't that an honor to you?
- Honours are inconsequential, my friend. You don't seem to understand orcs that well – warlock smiled wryly, Gharb shrugged.
Yes, maybe you're right. But I'm the same kind of person... never bolstered with any achievement. I find that silly and unnecessary. But tell me... - he glanced at his pint and pauses for a moment - ...is there anything we shall worry about with that Scourge? I believe you're in a better touch with the Horde forces.
- It’s serious enough to warrant our full attention. It was… unexpected for most of us. Eyes were looking at Quel’danas.
Gharb nodded and finished his rum.
I see, that's very… intriguing. I apologise but I have to talk things over with the captain. Scheduled meeting. See you around Taerak, hopefully we'll continue the conversation later.
Taerak gave him a small nod in respect and plunging in thoughts continued to drink his ale.
A few weeks have passed and weather around became somehow colder. There was no sign of approaching Barrens heat or dried air. A few times there was heavy raining but even at calm air was unfriendly and chilling to the bones. Captain did his best to persuade the crew to keep their mouths shut – goblins will do almost anything as long as it would mean a shiny profit. Gharb was eliminating all the alcohol supply in the bar, fooling around and well... behaving like Gharb. From time to time he disappeared though and in a few ours one could notice the return of the paleness on captain’s face but not that anyone cared. Or at least that’s how Gharb was thinking himself.
Taerak on the other hand, wasn’t trusting to anything, remembering the strange departure. He did inspect the anchor in a couple of days and noticed it was weirdly damaged. Warlock isn’t a professional sailor usually but logics was suggesting that it shouldn’t be that way. Then that strange change of weather… Horde often travels by Ratchet-Booty Bay course – and Taerak remembered of what it feels like. It’s basically traveling from one warm land to another one and weather has never changed drastically. But this time it was somehow different, not to mention that the sun seemed to be lower and sunset started earlier than usually in Durotar. On top of that – according to the schedule, they should have arrived to Ratchet a day ago but captain claimed that because of the bad weather they’ve confused something and they will “delay for a day or two”. So summarizing all said Taerak also started suspecting Gharb as he was somehow connected to everything around. Captain was barely sober in the last days and especially weird after Gharb accidentally dropped a crippling poison flask to captain’s soup. Or threw an axe at captain’s cabin door – “just to stay in shape”. Or… well, it was just… weird. The last drop of warlock’s patience was the snow started falling at late evening, accompanied by an icy cold wind.
Catching the moment when Gharb was quietly snoring somewhere at the bar, Taerak decided to drop a visit to the captain. He hasn’t seen him for two days and that was disturbing. After knocking for five minutes without answer he just blew the lock out and entered the room. Captain was lying on the floor in a terrible state – it seems he haven’t had any sleep for at least a week, he became pale and skinny and his beard was looking as if he was cleaning the deck with it. There were empty rum bottles all around and all of that was covered with a mess of maps and different papers. Taerak being a warlock was an orc first – he simply grabbed captain by the shirt and with one strong push lifted him and dropped to the chair. Captain only faintly whimpered and glanced at the warlock. Human was emanating fear. Taerak frowned at the human with disgust.
- What a pathetic picture… now, what’s going on here? – captain only sobbed and started crying then reached out and handed over a dirty piece of paper – That is… hmm… where is the map? THE MAP, man! – with a quiet growl Taerak rolled a map over the floor and checked the coordinates, written on the paper. Then checked again. And again. Blinked – What the… that cannot be true right?! – he was staring at the captain with a soul-burning gaze, almost ready to incinerate him the same moment – You have been sailing there from the start? And you told nothing to the Horde officers on the board? Who ordered to do that? Give me his name. Now...
In half a minute he dashed out to the deck, noticing that it became much darker – a storm was approaching and the snow flakes were viciously ripping the skin of anyone coming outside. Ship started to pitch. Quietly growling one name he made a few steps and faltered. On the other side of the deck there was someone standing jauntily whistling some song motive. That person was also wearing a pirate hat. Taerak gave a signal to his succubus that immediately approached Gharb in a way only demons could, hidden in their own dim-world, without being noticed. A long moment of silence followed and then was broken by rogue’s calm voice.
Sooner or later that was bound to happen… I’m surprised that damned helpless human lasted even for that long. So Taerak, what do you know?
- We are heading to Northrend. I’d like to know why. Before we turn that ship around.
That’s a complicated question Taerak. Let’s say that on your language that can be described with a word “duties”. I am tired and sick of Outland crap and I am hurt with the Azeroth indifference. If noone bothers to finish that business, the one I care about, then I will. Everything must have an end. And that is exactly the reason we’re set on this course.
Taerak raised an eyebrow and let out a wry laugh, Gharb frowned slightly in respond.
- Everything has its time and place Gharb. While the Scourge invades, you actually want to sail to Northrend? – he said incredulously – And do you really think one man will make a difference there?
One man can change the world. It’s a matter of belief and sharpness of your blades…
- What you think doesn’t matter right now - warlock interrupted, his voice was growing dangerous – We are going to Durotar. Right now.
You could join my crusade instead! In some time Thrall will finally realize that Northrend is far more important than anything you’ve faced before! You could simply wait for the Horde there, get your reward for scouting the lands. I’ll just continue on my own… - he was slowly becoming impatient.
- No, Gharb. It’s you who is going to wait. – warlock slowly drew his spellblade and slightly nodded to his succubus, she was ready to fight if needed.
Rogue didn’t react at first but then carefully and trying to make this unnoticed dragged his hand close to one pouch on the belt.
Let’s solve this in a way both of us will respect… we’ve fought besides each other! And it’s too late to turn back – we’re one day away of the frozen land! Why does it even matter to you?
Taerak let out a low growl as he noticed rogue preparation.
- Don’t move an inch, Gharb. I know your tricks. And like I said – you don’t know orcs that well.
I merely asked you to explain… - undead smirked and raised an eyebrow – I’m not going to make any mess around, right? Well, a couple of human lives, maybe some goblins here and there, an orc or… damnit, whoever – that doesn’t count. Why don’t we…
Warlock said something loud in orcish. Next thing Gharb heard was a sound of grunt footsteps on a lower deck. He snarled at the warlock and hissed.
WHY do you have to spoil everything, damnit! Is it necessary to make it that complicated?!
- You’re a traitor and a criminal, Gharb. A disappointment for sure – Taerak replied with a look of extreme disregard for rogue’s plight. In return he only saw a frown and a moment of silence.
You just don’t listen to me do you? If only you could understand that there’re far more important meanings than some… Orgrimmar! I’ve gone that far not to turn back now... – with a barely noticeable gesture Gharb tossed a fragile flask of flashing powder on the deck. In a moment everything was lost in a flash of light and smoke, Taerak covered eyes with his hand and Gharb felt how a shadow magic winded around his neck – succubus appeared in one step, she was well trained. He let out a low growl and yellow eyes flashed as he torn the magic seal and in one swift movement unsheathed dagger and stroke wyvern in the face, before she was able to hide again.
Ship was pitching up and down and cold wind blast dispersed smoke in a moment. Taerak reached out and sent a shadowbolt to the spot Gharb was standing at. But rogue appeared in a just a few steps away and with a strong kick hit the warlock when he tried to cast next spell. Rogue turned around, feeling something far more dangerous than any shadowbolt – and noticed grunts rushing out on the deck. But it wasn’t the issue - a huge wave that was about to cover the ship. Next moment freezing water clashed with the ship, dragging everything in the black sea, breaking masts like tiny branches. Gharb digged into the wood deck with his dagger and when he opened eyes – warlock was already gone.
There is a plan… no… The Plan! Those silly armies forget most important matters, they go and fight for their leader or for the survival. I do find that pathetic.
Glowing yellow eyes glanced at the water surface above – there was a dark black pitch. Apparently, a ship and some line disappearing down in the water. A wry grin distorted man’s face. He steadily followed the path line was showing and soon it appeared to be a hawser. Man opened his pouch and took out a compact goblin bomb, attached it to the chain, pressed something and started quickly swimming to ship above. In a minute an explosion sound ripped his ear. Man grabbed the rest of the iron chain…
On a deck of the ship tough goblins were dragging the anchor on the ship – it looked like it’s been cut off as the ship was slowly drifting away of the berth. Some man was yelling at the rest – by the looks of his hat he was a captain when an orc with a company of Horde soldiers approached him and peered at the crew, hustling around the ship deck.
- What’s going on here, captain? I thought this ship is leaving in an hour, according to your own schedule.
- I am terribly sorry, it seems you haven’t been informed about… the latest changes in our schedule – human hesitated for a moment – Anyway, according to my list every passenger is at the ship so we’ll just arrive one our earlier. Is that a problem?
Orc remained silent for sometime, staring at the captain, then shrugged and walked off. In a few steps he gave a sign to stay on guard to one of his soldiers.
- There’s something weird in all that… - he frowned. Captain sighed with relief.
- I so dislike having Horde legionnaires on the board… - he glanced at the alliance mage standing by the board and indifferently gazing to the distance – well… worse is only having both the Horde and the Alliance at the same time.
Goblins yelled something and captain rushed to the anchor rack but… there was no anchor. Goblin demonstrated a cut off hawser piece and shrugged.
- A sabotage? – muttered captain, inspecting the breakage – Hell no, must be that underwater giant having fun again – he turned to his first mate - Drop down a couple of underwater bombs – that’d calm him down. And tell the rest of the crew to prepare for the trip. We’re setting off!
Goblin crew were preparing for immediate start and in a moment first mate with several goblins rolling the bombs came out of the hold and puffing rolled over the board a couple of heavy underwater bombs. There was water splash and bombs started sinking. Soon, when bombs reach the necessary depth through the precise cracks made by professional engineers water will pour into the complex mechanism, activating triggers and exploding the bomb, shattering everything around to pieces. But that would be for nothing this time – a wry grin from above was watching bombs sinking. A faint sound of wooden crackle quietly laughed as sharp nails were carving into the ship hull, holding someone with bright yellow eyes. The ship was slowly turning and setting its course to Ratchet on another continent. In a few weeks though noone has met that ship there as noone has ever seen it after this strange departure.
A few days have passed, there was brilliant weather for the sailing – sea was dead calm and tail-wind was making trip safe and enjoyable. Apart from a bar fight between horde and alliance soldiers nothing exciting happened and captain was lying on the upper deck and smoking something that apparently made him feel a lot happier. Seagulls flying around and sometimes doing their exiting business at the goblins, working at the ship, have noticed some movement at the ship hull, as if there was some weird shadow on it. But seagulls don’t care about such things.
Later same evening, when the dusk chilling breeze finally took over the heat, last sunlight blinked over the horizon and ship’s visitors hid inside, having some funny talks in the bar, exactly at that moment – a wry grin with glowing eyes has awoken. Carving its nails into the ship wood, quietly it was moving up. On a deck first mate and captain were loudly discussing or arguing about something, sipping rum right out of the bottle. First thing first mate noticed was actually a soaked up pirate hat appearing behind the board. He blinked and noticed another thing – glowing eyes and distorted white grin on someone’s face. That was also the last thing he noticed because next moment he fell down with a throwing axe carved into his neck. Captain turned around, unsheathing his rapier but stranger with a swift motion jumped over the railing and dashed to the human, hitting him off the ground. A bony, rough hand strongly gripped him by the throat, making unable to scream or breathe. Drops of water were falling from stranger’s clothes on a captain, making him slightly shiver of the cold. Then silent and calm voice chilly murmured…
Starting from now, you will do whatever I tell you. Your first mate… is sleeping in his room because he’s so… bloody tired – there was a faint laughter in the voice, then glowing eyes narrowed, staring through the human – Also, I am now a passenger. Just a usual… being on your ship. With sharp daggers though and a very precise realization of his own purpose, no matter what the situation around is. And you are brave enough to help me on this exiting journey – stranger stuffed some paper in a pocket on captain’s jacket then grabbed a bottle of rum that was rolling between dead body of first mate and choking captain releasing the grip just so captain could take a breath – We are to change the course of this ship… All the details are written on that paper. Don’t question it and don’t show to anyone. Make some excuse so your crew wouldn’t ask questions – stranger grinned – So welcome me abroad! My name is Gharb. This rum… and this ship, are now unofficially mine.
The following morning ship passengers and the crew noticed a few unusual things. A newcomer on the vessel (was he sleeping somewhere?), disappearance of a first mate and paleness of captain’s face (perhaps, it was a side effect of rum?). Noone really saw him this night, when he was drunk to boot after the night conversation but sobered up in just a moment after reading the note.
- Northrend?! But that’s… a suicide! – he dropped on the chair, staring into the dirty note with some coordinates written, not believing his eyes – We.. we even don’t have enough supplies to sail there! Not to mention that I just fail to see a way to explain all of that to my crew and passengers!
He lifted his head and noticed some shadow through the tinted window of his cabin-door. Then from another side someone passing by pointed at the window and with a sharp, disgusting sound scratched it with a nail. Captain swallowed and muttered something. He stayed in his cabin till the late morning.
Next day Gharb walked into a bar, decided that it’s worth of his presence. After all it was a ship and where’s ship there are sailors and where are sailors – there is rum. It was a small cozy room with several pieces of wooden furniture, counter and goods mostly consisting of different kinds of alcohol. A couple of passengers were lying their face down on the tables – it was either magnificent night aftermath taking over or sea-sickness. Or a bit of both. As in almost any bar Gharb has been at – there was a dark corner with someone sitting there in the shadows. Sometimes Gharb asked himself if such corners were made on purpose… Dim candles fire enlightened barman’s face who was peering at the newcomer with some sort of a professional curiosity. When visitor approached the counter barman without saying a word simply poured a pint of rum and handed it over, greeting with a slight nod. Gharb smirked and nodded back – approving man’s sharp intuition, grabbed the pint and dried it in two gulps.
Too bad my friend that this is a dead end… I wish world would have more professionals like you. But well, maybe I could just throw you out of the ship, hopefully you can swim – Gharb glanced around searchingly, noticed someone sitting in the shadows and narrowed eyes – I’ll be damned a thousand times… what an… ironic luck! That must be Taerak himself! Well… that proves to be a fairy interesting trip, indeed.
He whispered something to the barman and soon waiter put a pint of ale on the shady table. Person sitting by it looked over his shoulder and Gharb raised his pint in a greeting, dried it and smirked faintly. Slowly he stood up and approached Taerak.
Well, well, well… what an unexpected meeting! Taerak himself and, considering I’ve seen some other horde soldiers around, with a company! I’ve noticed one of the grunts was a female though – that’s bad luck for a vessel…unless it’s a honeymoon trip - he grinned.
- And then worse luck nonetheless.
Gharb cackled and nodded at the chair.
May I?
- Of course. Business as usual, then, what about you? – Taerak nodded. Gharb without blinking an eye smiled broadly.
Usual stuff. Travelling around Azeroth you know. I spend a lot of time in Stranglethorn lately… remarkable memories. Lately I’ve heard about some Scourge activity so going to do a research on that matter – he sipped rest of the rum and gave a sign to the barman to refresh it – Heard anything about it?
- The only reason why I'm in this forsaken watering hole is because I'm waiting on the boat back – Taerak raised an eyebrow in surprise – And it’s more than just rumours Gharb.
So you're on your way to Orgrimmar? Does Thrall want some help there or it's just another duty to do? I've noticed you're not the only one high-ranked on this ship.
- I'm hardly high ranked anymore, Gharb – warlock smirked and gulped some ale - But yes, for what it's worth, it's a duty. One that I dont have any qualms about fulfilling.
I still remember the times when we fought besides. And yes, we've been given some "reward" for our efforts. Even if most don't care - you still bear the rank of the Horde soldier. Isn't that an honor to you?
- Honours are inconsequential, my friend. You don't seem to understand orcs that well – warlock smiled wryly, Gharb shrugged.
Yes, maybe you're right. But I'm the same kind of person... never bolstered with any achievement. I find that silly and unnecessary. But tell me... - he glanced at his pint and pauses for a moment - ...is there anything we shall worry about with that Scourge? I believe you're in a better touch with the Horde forces.
- It’s serious enough to warrant our full attention. It was… unexpected for most of us. Eyes were looking at Quel’danas.
Gharb nodded and finished his rum.
I see, that's very… intriguing. I apologise but I have to talk things over with the captain. Scheduled meeting. See you around Taerak, hopefully we'll continue the conversation later.
Taerak gave him a small nod in respect and plunging in thoughts continued to drink his ale.
A few weeks have passed and weather around became somehow colder. There was no sign of approaching Barrens heat or dried air. A few times there was heavy raining but even at calm air was unfriendly and chilling to the bones. Captain did his best to persuade the crew to keep their mouths shut – goblins will do almost anything as long as it would mean a shiny profit. Gharb was eliminating all the alcohol supply in the bar, fooling around and well... behaving like Gharb. From time to time he disappeared though and in a few ours one could notice the return of the paleness on captain’s face but not that anyone cared. Or at least that’s how Gharb was thinking himself.
Taerak on the other hand, wasn’t trusting to anything, remembering the strange departure. He did inspect the anchor in a couple of days and noticed it was weirdly damaged. Warlock isn’t a professional sailor usually but logics was suggesting that it shouldn’t be that way. Then that strange change of weather… Horde often travels by Ratchet-Booty Bay course – and Taerak remembered of what it feels like. It’s basically traveling from one warm land to another one and weather has never changed drastically. But this time it was somehow different, not to mention that the sun seemed to be lower and sunset started earlier than usually in Durotar. On top of that – according to the schedule, they should have arrived to Ratchet a day ago but captain claimed that because of the bad weather they’ve confused something and they will “delay for a day or two”. So summarizing all said Taerak also started suspecting Gharb as he was somehow connected to everything around. Captain was barely sober in the last days and especially weird after Gharb accidentally dropped a crippling poison flask to captain’s soup. Or threw an axe at captain’s cabin door – “just to stay in shape”. Or… well, it was just… weird. The last drop of warlock’s patience was the snow started falling at late evening, accompanied by an icy cold wind.
Catching the moment when Gharb was quietly snoring somewhere at the bar, Taerak decided to drop a visit to the captain. He hasn’t seen him for two days and that was disturbing. After knocking for five minutes without answer he just blew the lock out and entered the room. Captain was lying on the floor in a terrible state – it seems he haven’t had any sleep for at least a week, he became pale and skinny and his beard was looking as if he was cleaning the deck with it. There were empty rum bottles all around and all of that was covered with a mess of maps and different papers. Taerak being a warlock was an orc first – he simply grabbed captain by the shirt and with one strong push lifted him and dropped to the chair. Captain only faintly whimpered and glanced at the warlock. Human was emanating fear. Taerak frowned at the human with disgust.
- What a pathetic picture… now, what’s going on here? – captain only sobbed and started crying then reached out and handed over a dirty piece of paper – That is… hmm… where is the map? THE MAP, man! – with a quiet growl Taerak rolled a map over the floor and checked the coordinates, written on the paper. Then checked again. And again. Blinked – What the… that cannot be true right?! – he was staring at the captain with a soul-burning gaze, almost ready to incinerate him the same moment – You have been sailing there from the start? And you told nothing to the Horde officers on the board? Who ordered to do that? Give me his name. Now...
In half a minute he dashed out to the deck, noticing that it became much darker – a storm was approaching and the snow flakes were viciously ripping the skin of anyone coming outside. Ship started to pitch. Quietly growling one name he made a few steps and faltered. On the other side of the deck there was someone standing jauntily whistling some song motive. That person was also wearing a pirate hat. Taerak gave a signal to his succubus that immediately approached Gharb in a way only demons could, hidden in their own dim-world, without being noticed. A long moment of silence followed and then was broken by rogue’s calm voice.
Sooner or later that was bound to happen… I’m surprised that damned helpless human lasted even for that long. So Taerak, what do you know?
- We are heading to Northrend. I’d like to know why. Before we turn that ship around.
That’s a complicated question Taerak. Let’s say that on your language that can be described with a word “duties”. I am tired and sick of Outland crap and I am hurt with the Azeroth indifference. If noone bothers to finish that business, the one I care about, then I will. Everything must have an end. And that is exactly the reason we’re set on this course.
Taerak raised an eyebrow and let out a wry laugh, Gharb frowned slightly in respond.
- Everything has its time and place Gharb. While the Scourge invades, you actually want to sail to Northrend? – he said incredulously – And do you really think one man will make a difference there?
One man can change the world. It’s a matter of belief and sharpness of your blades…
- What you think doesn’t matter right now - warlock interrupted, his voice was growing dangerous – We are going to Durotar. Right now.
You could join my crusade instead! In some time Thrall will finally realize that Northrend is far more important than anything you’ve faced before! You could simply wait for the Horde there, get your reward for scouting the lands. I’ll just continue on my own… - he was slowly becoming impatient.
- No, Gharb. It’s you who is going to wait. – warlock slowly drew his spellblade and slightly nodded to his succubus, she was ready to fight if needed.
Rogue didn’t react at first but then carefully and trying to make this unnoticed dragged his hand close to one pouch on the belt.
Let’s solve this in a way both of us will respect… we’ve fought besides each other! And it’s too late to turn back – we’re one day away of the frozen land! Why does it even matter to you?
Taerak let out a low growl as he noticed rogue preparation.
- Don’t move an inch, Gharb. I know your tricks. And like I said – you don’t know orcs that well.
I merely asked you to explain… - undead smirked and raised an eyebrow – I’m not going to make any mess around, right? Well, a couple of human lives, maybe some goblins here and there, an orc or… damnit, whoever – that doesn’t count. Why don’t we…
Warlock said something loud in orcish. Next thing Gharb heard was a sound of grunt footsteps on a lower deck. He snarled at the warlock and hissed.
WHY do you have to spoil everything, damnit! Is it necessary to make it that complicated?!
- You’re a traitor and a criminal, Gharb. A disappointment for sure – Taerak replied with a look of extreme disregard for rogue’s plight. In return he only saw a frown and a moment of silence.
You just don’t listen to me do you? If only you could understand that there’re far more important meanings than some… Orgrimmar! I’ve gone that far not to turn back now... – with a barely noticeable gesture Gharb tossed a fragile flask of flashing powder on the deck. In a moment everything was lost in a flash of light and smoke, Taerak covered eyes with his hand and Gharb felt how a shadow magic winded around his neck – succubus appeared in one step, she was well trained. He let out a low growl and yellow eyes flashed as he torn the magic seal and in one swift movement unsheathed dagger and stroke wyvern in the face, before she was able to hide again.
Ship was pitching up and down and cold wind blast dispersed smoke in a moment. Taerak reached out and sent a shadowbolt to the spot Gharb was standing at. But rogue appeared in a just a few steps away and with a strong kick hit the warlock when he tried to cast next spell. Rogue turned around, feeling something far more dangerous than any shadowbolt – and noticed grunts rushing out on the deck. But it wasn’t the issue - a huge wave that was about to cover the ship. Next moment freezing water clashed with the ship, dragging everything in the black sea, breaking masts like tiny branches. Gharb digged into the wood deck with his dagger and when he opened eyes – warlock was already gone.
Sunday, November 16, 2008
Rogue Yell. Part 1.
Water was falling from the sky in a huge, heavy drops, assaulting thick jungle leaves, rolling down and with a waterfall dampening the ground. It was raining so heavily that most of the beasts hid in their dwellings, waiting out the horrible weather. Perhaps, even all of them… but one.
Not all the water was reaching the ground – some was falling on a weary, scarred face of a man that was quietly snoring to his dreams. From time to time he was mumbling something, sometimes with a frown, sometimes with a quite laughter, then a long tongue wiped the water drops off the pale lips – and man became silent again. Even though it wasn’t possible to hear what he was muttering, it was obvious that he had a dream or maybe even quite a few.
…it never rains in the Outlands. Well, that pathetic wet air in Zangarmarsh doesn’t count…. So it never rains – lips distorted in a smirk –oh yes, I love rain… even that of a blood color. Too many have deceived Lordaeron and then the Horde. They had to pay and they are going to pay even more. Yes.
Man frowned and licked the water off his lips.
Noo… we don’t belong to them anymore. They betrayed us! On the other hand, considering the world belongs to me – it’s all irrelevant. I stray but at least my knees don’t hurt now, they don’t bleed as they used to… oh Mistress…
A familiar female face has appeared out of the blackness. Pale as if it’d be dead, without eyes and if it’d be blind. Yet it wasn’t and if you look closer – you could notice some charm in it most of the strong of mind people possess. An artful grin has appeared on a man’s face and woman answered with the same.
So we’ve met again… - he leaned forward to her face, reveling in the scent of blinding powder and leather, forgetting to breath.
You know… I’ve been writing to you – he was choking in ecstasy. She smirked and all of a sudden bit his ear.
Dream shattered and with a growl, unsheathing daggers, man jumped on his feet. His glowing with bright yellow color eyes narrowed as he was taking a breath and looking around… there was nothing but rain. Then he sighed heavily and worn out lied in the high wet grass again. Closing eyes he muttered something about the letter and of how he’s slowly losing control. In a moment he was sleeping again.
Visions of the past appeared in a dream, disturbing rogue’s mind - some of those were pleasant, some horrifying and scarring the quiet rest. All the journey of a rogue who was losing the last bits of humanity, turning into a stray beast with a great hunger for life. Grin distorted man’s face – he was apparently enjoying it. Grin widened so you could see the teeth barely reminding human ones – sharp and white as if they gnawed hundreds of different bones. Cold, chilled wind was surrounding the visions, making it hard to breathe, freezing everything inside the one who inhales it. With a faint creak of leather armor pale hand grabbed some snow, rogue sniffed it and blinked.
It’s definitely something I shall look into…
Rogue tried to run but awkwardly fell on the snow, unable to make a single step. Anger bursted in his mind as he noticed his feet were frozen into the ground. Quietly growling he tried to break the ice but it was of no use.
This damn thing just don’t let me go… What kind of a dream that is?! – he heard some strange footsteps, quiet and soothing but possessing some awareness of danger. Rogue frowned as he felt something pushing his chest. Lying on the ground and unable to move he felt some strange pressure – Indeed, I shall let it go…
Dream veil has faded and man slowly opened his eyes, noticing something orange besides. The rain has stopped and it seems someone was curious of that sleeping rogue. Something orange moved and hissed as he peered into green tigress eyes. Slowly so he doesn’t scare the beast he reached out and let the animal sniff his hand as a proof of trust.
There’s just one thing holding me from becoming what I’m striving to be… just one. And noone crosses my way!
Beast roared faintly approving the meeting. Gharb peered into tigress eyes again, meeting a kindred spirit. He slyly grinned.
Finally I know what to do. But first… shall we feed?
Not all the water was reaching the ground – some was falling on a weary, scarred face of a man that was quietly snoring to his dreams. From time to time he was mumbling something, sometimes with a frown, sometimes with a quite laughter, then a long tongue wiped the water drops off the pale lips – and man became silent again. Even though it wasn’t possible to hear what he was muttering, it was obvious that he had a dream or maybe even quite a few.
…it never rains in the Outlands. Well, that pathetic wet air in Zangarmarsh doesn’t count…. So it never rains – lips distorted in a smirk –oh yes, I love rain… even that of a blood color. Too many have deceived Lordaeron and then the Horde. They had to pay and they are going to pay even more. Yes.
Man frowned and licked the water off his lips.
Noo… we don’t belong to them anymore. They betrayed us! On the other hand, considering the world belongs to me – it’s all irrelevant. I stray but at least my knees don’t hurt now, they don’t bleed as they used to… oh Mistress…
A familiar female face has appeared out of the blackness. Pale as if it’d be dead, without eyes and if it’d be blind. Yet it wasn’t and if you look closer – you could notice some charm in it most of the strong of mind people possess. An artful grin has appeared on a man’s face and woman answered with the same.
So we’ve met again… - he leaned forward to her face, reveling in the scent of blinding powder and leather, forgetting to breath.
You know… I’ve been writing to you – he was choking in ecstasy. She smirked and all of a sudden bit his ear.
Dream shattered and with a growl, unsheathing daggers, man jumped on his feet. His glowing with bright yellow color eyes narrowed as he was taking a breath and looking around… there was nothing but rain. Then he sighed heavily and worn out lied in the high wet grass again. Closing eyes he muttered something about the letter and of how he’s slowly losing control. In a moment he was sleeping again.
Visions of the past appeared in a dream, disturbing rogue’s mind - some of those were pleasant, some horrifying and scarring the quiet rest. All the journey of a rogue who was losing the last bits of humanity, turning into a stray beast with a great hunger for life. Grin distorted man’s face – he was apparently enjoying it. Grin widened so you could see the teeth barely reminding human ones – sharp and white as if they gnawed hundreds of different bones. Cold, chilled wind was surrounding the visions, making it hard to breathe, freezing everything inside the one who inhales it. With a faint creak of leather armor pale hand grabbed some snow, rogue sniffed it and blinked.
It’s definitely something I shall look into…
Rogue tried to run but awkwardly fell on the snow, unable to make a single step. Anger bursted in his mind as he noticed his feet were frozen into the ground. Quietly growling he tried to break the ice but it was of no use.
This damn thing just don’t let me go… What kind of a dream that is?! – he heard some strange footsteps, quiet and soothing but possessing some awareness of danger. Rogue frowned as he felt something pushing his chest. Lying on the ground and unable to move he felt some strange pressure – Indeed, I shall let it go…
Dream veil has faded and man slowly opened his eyes, noticing something orange besides. The rain has stopped and it seems someone was curious of that sleeping rogue. Something orange moved and hissed as he peered into green tigress eyes. Slowly so he doesn’t scare the beast he reached out and let the animal sniff his hand as a proof of trust.
There’s just one thing holding me from becoming what I’m striving to be… just one. And noone crosses my way!
Beast roared faintly approving the meeting. Gharb peered into tigress eyes again, meeting a kindred spirit. He slyly grinned.
Finally I know what to do. But first… shall we feed?
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