Danath looked up sharply as the door was flung open with a bang, but recomposed himself easily when the she-rogue came striding through, kicking the door shut behind her.
“Commander Danath, sir,” she greeted only minutely mockingly, throwing a sloppy salute. “I heard you needed to scout out that quaint little Citadel way over there.”
He arched an eyebrow at her. “And I should assign this mission to you because …?”
She stared at him for a moment, and then threw her hands in the air with a tragic face. “Riiight. I forget. You folks been blindsided here for a decade and half. I suppose I shouldn’t expect my reputation to carry through the Dark Portal itself.” She dropped her arms and crossed them, staring matter-of-factly at the Commander.
At this, he actually cracked a faint smile. “I’ve already heard plenty of your little heroics out on the Path earlier.” He indicated with a nod the still-visible ichor stains present on her armour. “That was cold-blooded, merciless, and highly efficient.”
“Why thank you.” She shot him a sly grin.
“And I suppose I could put that to further use, if you absolutely insist.” Even his voice carried an unmistakable smirk.
She regarded him with a different kind of attention now; one that was absolutely professional and brooked no indecision.
He turned to the situation table and rummaged through a few sketchy maps stacked on top. “We need intelligence first and foremost about the Citadel’s outer lines of defence – scouting patrols, surveillance equipment, the guard shifts along the ramparts.” He turned back to her, his gaze unflinching. “Can you do that?”
“All in a day’s work. How fast do you want the intel?”
“As fast as you can manage. We’re on a tight schedule.”
“I’ll be back in two hours. Three if I find anything particularly interesting.”
He nodded. “I’ll hold you to that.”
She smirked back. “Consider it done, Trollbane.”
~||~
“You did WHAT?!”
Eli was on his feet, his face a study in frustration, disbelief and towering fury. Tuan was sitting on a simple wooden stool, busily applying a bandage around her arm, otherwise dressed in little more than a chestwrap, a number of other haphazard gauzes, her combat boots and pants. Theluin, stood at a safe distance, seemed uncharacteristically out of it as he regarded the scene with an almost dazed expression.
Securing the bandage with her teeth around one end, the incorrigible she-rogue shot the Paladin a feral grin. He flailed incoherently back at her.
“Yeh went into the Citadel, alone, in broad daylight, disposed several of their forward sentries, sabotaged a week’s worth of supplies an’ incapacitated th’ resident Watchmaster, just ta scout it out fer th’ Commander?? Have y’ lost yer mind?”
“I’ll leave it to you to make the final assessment.” She bent down and picked up her leather cuirass, once again caked with the foul ichor of Fel Orc casualties. Soaking a small sponge in hot, citrus-laced water tinged with a hint of soap, she began cleaning off the already thoroughly hardened clods.
“Yeh threw yerself off th’ ramparts t’ escape an’ rode back here at full-tilt with a platoon of Fel Orcs tailing yeh all th’ way t’ th’ Hold itself!!”
She glanced up at him, an eyebrow quirkily raised. “At least they had the presence of mind to take the hint when the ballistae opened fire.”
“Only ‘cuz their primary commander wus lyin’ unconscious in his own situation room after you snuck inside an’ clubbed him senseless!!”
She dipped the sponge again, squeezing out the excess water. “Danath wanted results, and that’s what I got him. I told him I would take two hours, three if I found something particularly interesting.” She rubbed vigorously at a stubborn stain. “Not only did I indeed find something particularly interesting, but I also made it back within three hours.” She shot him another infuriatingly casual smirk. “Give or take a minute or two.”
Eli composed himself with a visible effort, but he was still seething with anger. “Yeh could’ve been killed.”
She smiled brightly at him. “But I weren’t, and that’s what matters, wouldn’t you say?”
He drew a sharp inhale, and then let it out again in an explosive sigh. “I give up,” he stated exhaustedly and stormed out of the room.
Theluin finally seemed to come to somewhat. “… I do not say this often, nor do I say it lightly … but you really have a dangerous penchant of pushing limits, my young friend.”
Tuan grunted dismissively as she turned the cuirass over in her lap, beginning to work on its backside. “He should’ve learned by now that it’s useless to coddle me. His loss if he can’t make it stick in his thick skull.”
The elderly Moon Priest fixed her firmly with his gaze, an infinitesimal amount of his ever-present patience evaporating – which was in itself an indication of just how exasperated the ancient Kaldorei was getting.
The she-rogue paused in her chores, and let out a little sigh. She didn’t look up, however. “… I’ll apologize to him later. Let him steam off for now.” She held up the cuirass in front of her and looked it over critically. “Looks like I’m just going to have to burn this thing. It was getting old, anyway.” She tossed the unserviceable armour piece into a corner and snatched her shirt from the back of the stool, pulling it on with a slight wince and a grimace, and sauntered out of the room. “Gonna get myself a quick meal. I’m starving,” she called over her shoulder as she headed downstairs to the inn’s commonroom, all without waiting for a retort.
Theluin followed after her, albeit in a statelier manner, and reached the commonroom just in time to hear the opening crescendo of the she-rogue’s reckless bartering with the inn’s chef about raw materials for whatever outlandish – literally! – recipe she had decided to try her hand at. The Moon Priest sighed quietly to himself. While it was a necessity to keep her in the Hold for the time being until the wounds from her recent string of spats had healed, it was proving to become costly for everyone’s composure.
That being said, no-one could claim her to not carry her weight. First the Path of Glory and now the Citadel itself – she was quickly accumulating a degree of renown, mainly among the Sons of Lothar but also with the Draenic cohorts, who had learned quickly about her heroic intervention to save the Ambassador. In a way, it did not surprise the ancient Night Elf in the slightest that the she-rogue insisted on keeping to herself: after all, she hated having attention lavished upon her.
Theluin continued outside, wandering seemingly at random around the settlement’s various installations. The scattered guardsmen and soldiers that he encountered all greeted him with simple bows and salutes, and he always made a point to return the gestures, no matter how absent-minded he might get. Being a successful diplomat was as much about maintaining a healthy relationship as it was about striking up a pleasant first impression.
He eventually came upon the Hold’s graveyard – a simple, neat arrangement of Light’s crosses with little else to embellish the final resting places of those soldiers who had fallen in defence of the Alliance outpost. One of the graves was distinctly fresh, the earth covering it still dark, and the Paladin was standing beside it, arms crossed and head bowed in thought.
Theluin walked over to his morose friend and stopped beside him without a word, gazing down on the grave of the unfortunate soldier whom the ambush on the Path of Glory had claimed. They both remained like this for a good while, one still struggling for self-control, the other waiting patiently for his companion to come forward.
Eli pulled up his shoulders slightly. “She sure likes ta make it difficult ta care about her.”
Theluin continued to gaze at the grave. “She is hardly oblivious to the concept of attachment.”
Eli’s eyes hardened. “So she can ignore it all th’ more easily?”
“There is a fine line between necessity and carelessness. She toes it a great deal … and misses a step every so often.” Eli shot him a look, and the elderly Kaldorei leaned heavily on his staff, bowing his head. “I am not attempting to defend her, my friend. If anything, it should be my responsibility to apologize for not warning you properly in the first place.”
Eli looked away, returning his stare to the grave in front of him. “… I’ve buried way too many of mah friends a’ready, sir Theluin. I dun wanna see her name on th’ next grave I have ta read last rites ov’r.”
The Moon Priest let show a small smile. “I can assure you of this much, my dear Paladin – she is a notorious survivor. It is clear the powers that be have something in mind for her, and they are far from finished with it.”
Eli sighed and rubbed his face. “… so yer saying I jes’ shouldn’ worry so much.”
Theluin looked at him sympathetically. “As difficult as it may be for someone with a heart as large as yours.” Eli nodded slowly, the tension in his shoulders receding somewhat.
“If it is any consolation, she is going to be out of commission for the time being. Even she understands not to push herself too far. The correspondence she retrieved for the Commander will need to be digested and a proper plan put in motion.” The aged Night Elf raised his head, staring with unseeing eyes into the swirling sky above. “It is crucial information, what she discovered … that these Fel Orcs are apparently under the direct authority of the Betrayer himself.”
Eli let his arms drop and put his hands on his hips. “So … now we only have t’ bother about keeping ‘r young lady from drivin’ ev’ryone in here nuts o’er th’ next couple days.”
The ancient Kaldorei turned back to his far younger companion and smiled warmly. “Just the kind of everyday meddling that caring friends do.”
---
Originally written by Tuan Taureo
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