Once again the delegation moved steadily along the gently creaking causeway through the shimmering swamp, this time headed back south. Once again they rode mostly in silence, although the return trip was a great deal less uneasy – the Exarchs apparently deep in thought over their extended stay at the temple, while Theluin and the Ambassador exchanged the odd, discreet small talk regarding various details in Draenic history. Eli found himself once again fairly content with keeping an eye on his incorrigible kinswoman, who was distinctly more accustomed to the spectacular landscape around them this time and rode along in Sandy’s saddle with a much more conspicuous degree of jaded abandon.
Eli didn’t turn his head much, wise to the she-rogue’s razor reflexes, but he could still notice out of the corner of his eye how her expression kept shifting ever so imperceptibly. She was about to start getting belligerent, and he resolved to stifle the outburst before it would explode out somewhere awkward.
“Miss Tuan, if I may …” he ventured carefully. She immediately snapped her head around, arching an eyebrow at him in her typical ornery fashion.
“You did spend quite a lot o’ time chattin’ it up with that Conall fellow back thar,” Eli continued in a low but casual voice. “Didya manage ta help ‘im at all?”
“… oh. Yeah.” Tuan adjusted her seat somewhat, leaning a hand against Sandy’s armoured rear. The stallion didn’t even twitch his ears by now at his owner’s careless riding style. “That one … well, I did manage to get one of his little pests outta the way.”
Eli raised his eyebrows lightly. “Can’t recall you draggin’ any huge trophies in. When did ya pull that off exactly? … what kinda critter did’ya even go after?”
“Such a firestorm of questions. I’d almost think you were being interested, if that didn’t flatter you too much.” She shot a rapscallious smirk at him, which he repaid with a simple, jovial smile.
She wiggled her feet in the stirrups a bit. “The last few days before we up and left, actually. Right after our little three-way exposition talk.”
“You did run one more errand to th’ mire nearby,” Eli recalled absent-mindedly. “Wus it one o’ them bog giants?”
“Nope.” She shot another, distinctly more feral grin at him, and this did make him flinch away slightly. “This massive load of a … sporebat, I think they’re called? Wrestled it outta the air from three feet up, ran my sword through its head and cut out one of its incisors as proof.”
Eli did his level best not to recoil at the somewhat graphic portrayal. He glanced around to find something to fix his attention on and caught sight of a creature that had just come idly floating out of the underbrush – somewhat reminiscent of a bat, without discernible wings but instead sporting extended gliding membranes held out from its snake-like central spine by prehensile arcs running from neck to abdomen. Its eyes were set into its simple, rounded head like otherworldly lanterns, and its underside glowed with a cloud of the same phosphorescent spores that seemed to permeate the entire biome.
“… like that’un?” he asked off-handedly, nodding in the curious beast’s direction.
Tuan glanced the same way. “Hmnh. Different colours, and about three times that size.”
This made Eli actually flinch and spin around back at her with wide eyes. She merely grinned back at him coolly.
“… fer once, Miss Tuan, I sincerely hope yer pullin’ mah leg,” he mumbled in a mixture of shock and awe.
She rolled her eyes in mock defeat. “Well it figures,” she sighed theatrically. She raised a finger in the air. “Three times that size, Lightbulb, and ten times as cranky to boot. Don’t believe me, feel free to gallop on back to the temple and let Conall show you the tooth I got him.” She finished her tirade with a very smug smirk.
Eli was still struggling to process the revelation. “How did’ya ev’n …”
“I told you, I wrestled the damn thing to the ground from three feet up, impaled its head, and yanked one of its fangs out!” Tuan’s voice was starting to rise dangerously. “S’not my fault you’re so keen on doubting my combat abilities!”
“Ah wouldn’ dream o’ doin’ that, Miss Tuan,” Eli replied as soothingly as he was able. At least the Draenei delegates didn’t seem to take notice to the woman’s cantankerous turn.
Luckily, Tuan’s temper simmered as fast as it had swelled. “You should’ve seen Conall’s face when I showed up with the prize,” she grinned, almost jarringly cheerfully. “Ever imagine a cliff-face smiling? It was dang close to that.”
Eli managed a wan smile. “I’m imaginin’ he’s been pretty caught up tryin’ ta … deal with that thing, huh?”
“Likely.” Tuan leaned back leisurely in her saddle, prompting Sandy to perk his ears forward. “He had even taken to calling it ‘Sporewing’ … or maybe that was the name the preceding Explorer group dubbed it.” She shook her head almost mournfully. “Not always terribly imaginative, those fellas.”
Something clicked together in Eli’s mind. “… wait a minnit. Was that the reason you came stumbling into the bunks at the crack o’ dawn that other morning, complet’ly smashed?”
She let out an explosive chortle. “Hey, wasn’t gonna turn down a couple rounds of Thunder 45 for rewards bonus! S’why I like hanging around Dwarves, y’know. They can find something to drink to in the middle of the Tanaris Desert.”
“Ah should’ve guessed,” he sighed, but he couldn’t keep himself from smiling resignedly. “I do hope y’ aren’t goin’ overboard with th’ booze,” he remarked then, a hint of mild admonishment in his voice.
She put up a finger, smiling decidedly crookedly. “… I’m not about to claim I have the alcohol tolerance of one, but I’ll have you know I’ve drunk a few Dwarves under the table.” She paused, adjusting her seat. “Granted, all of those times I was coming in stark sober and they had already emptied a keg or three.”
“Naturally,” he quipped back with a low voice, but no less humour.
“Hey, I’m a rogue, Eli,” she retorted wickedly. “Wouldn’t do my profession justice if I didn’t know how to pick my fights.”
This did elicit a quiet but warm chuckle from the Paladin. The she-rogue simply grinned in return.
“Seriously though, sometimes you gotta wonder if those Dwarves would actually be able to subsist on booze entirely. Imagine everyone being able to hold that much liquor.” She sat upright suddenly, her eyes sparkling. “Wouldn’t that be awesome?? Imagine what the world would be like if everyone could just live on booze! The weaponsmiths would be outta jobs in an instant! Orcs and men and Gnomes and Trolls all shouting in the biggest drunken sing-along in the universe!” She let out a hearty laughter, tilting her head back. “Oh man … oh, that’s right.” She sobered up, furrowing her brow in thought. “Those Forsaken would be kinda left out, wouldn’t they?” She turned suddenly to Eli again. “Can undead even get drunk?”
Eli couldn’t help but chuckle quietly and helplessly at the she-rogue’s rapid-fire train of thought. “… I wouldn’ be able ta tell, Miss Tuan.”
“And here I thought you paladins were the resident experts on undead!” she chimed, reaching out and poking him playfully on his pauldroned shoulder, and he duly continued to chuckle.
Ahead of them, the Draenei Ambassador – who had been riding along with a light glance backwards – turned to Theluin, abreast as usual on his Stormsaber. “I have to admit, reverend, that it is moments like these that teach me anew what an inherently fascinating people these humans are,” the Ambassador mumbled discreetly, but his smile was genuine.
Theluin smiled back gently. “You are not alone in that observation, Wordbearer.”
~||~
Most of the intermittent chatter had died down by the time they finally arrived at the Cenarion Refuge, and fortunately so. One of the Exarchs, sitting up a little in his armoured saddle, stared ahead and then relayed a few simple phrases to the Ambassador, who in turn gave Theluin a mildly worried look, forwarding his kinsman’s message. The Moon Priest nodded solemnly and took the lead on his Saber, preceding the delegation up to the arched wooden gate marking the druidic settlement.
Tuan blinked and tried to peer ahead as well, though her field of vision was thoroughly blocked by the elekks’ tremendous girths. “What the fel’s going on now?” she muttered. “Haven’t they gotten used to those Tauren by now?”
Eli blinked, shaking himself out of a moment of contemplation, and glanced quickly at her. “Hm?” Attempting to look ahead, he too found himself unable to see past the mounts of their charges, and he shrugged a little indecisively. “Well … at least we’re still movin’ forward,” he concluded after a moment’s hesitation. Indeed, the delegation continued to proceed steadily past the guarded entrance.
It was when they passed the Wardens guarding the perimeter that it became clear that something was amiss. The tall, imposing Tauren warriors were noticeably on edge, eyes constantly scanning the swamp and weapons grasped tightly and at the ready, their entire postures a red flag of alert to the combat-trained humans. Eli and Tuan exchanged a single glance of ominous realization.
The camp itself was in a controlled flurry of druids and craftsmen hurrying to and fro, a group of Wardens receiving bandages and healing balms to one side and other, less injured guardians to another, engaged in a focused debriefing, plotting out scouting routes and redistributing weaponry. Two mighty Ancients, adorned with fresh scorchmarks from arcane blasts, patrolled along the perimeter with thunderous footsteps, one of them even sporting a wicked-looking, barbed spear lodged in its gnarled, stone-encrusted shoulder. The buildings did not seem to have been hit or damaged, however.
The delegation was met in the middle of the settlement by Ysiel Windsinger, the expedition leader now in full war trappings and looking slightly worse for wear. “Thank Cenarius you didn’t arrive a few hours earlier,” she greeted, inclining her head to Theluin as he dismounted with a probing look. “You very well might have ended up in the middle of a naga raid.” Before anyone could blurt out any questions, she gestured to the primary building, and the mounted escort followed Theluin’s example and followed along inside, the Exarch’s adjutants remaining outside with the elekks.
“Have the Naga become that aggressive in so short a time, Lady Windsinger?” Theluin inquired as soon as a modicum of privacy had been attained. “That is a little unprecedented, even with their inherent antagonistic nature.”
“I am more inclined to consider this assault a counterattack, elder,” Ysiel replied while pouring a high, narrow crystal glass with a few mouthfuls of Darnassian wine. She took a quick swig and turned back to her impromptu guests. “I decided to follow the advice of my most senior Warden, Hamoot, and agreed upon putting up the odd bounty on the local naga in an effort to thin their ranks. It turned out quite effective, at first glance at least.”
“Bounty?” Tuan suddenly chirped, popping out behind Eleazar’s armoured frame. The Paladin did his level best to keep his eyerolling to a minimum.
This made Ysiel crack a smile, however briefly. “I must unfortunately inform you that we have already exhausted most of our initial rewards, young rogue. But I appreciate your interest.” The Night Elf went on, gesturing lightly with her glass. “While most of our druids have made themselves busy studying plants and researching the lakes, Hamoot quickly made it his business to deal with the hostiles in the area once they had made themselves known to us. It’s thanks to him that we have been able to link numerous ambushes against our scouts to the Darkcrest and Bloodscale forces occupying the lakes throughout this area.” She took another draught, effectively emptying the glass, and set it aside again on what was likely the expedition leader’s workdesk; neatly stacked with diagrams and research reports. “I only wish I had heeded his words sooner, and stymied the naga’s armed buildup before this could happen. It's deeply unfortunate our mission could not remain a peaceful one, but you won't see me shedding tears for dead naga.”
“What about the refuge itself?” the Ambassador asked next, sincere consideration in his glowing eyes. “Have you suffered any casualties?”
“Miraculously enough, none.” Ysiel showed another light smile of relief. “All of our wardens have been injured to a greater or lesser extent, but we managed to avoid any permanent losses. It is mostly due to the strength and resilience of our two Ancients that we were able to weather this ambush as well as we have.”
The Ambassador exchanged a few quick words in his native tongue with the two Exarchs, who nodded stoically in return. He bowed graciously. “With your permission, Lady Windsinger, I would like to offer what little aid I am able. My kinsmen are both trained in the curative ways of the Light, and they are willing to extend their practices to speed the recovery of your warriors.”
Ysiel inclined her head gracefully. “It would be deeply appreciated, Your Excellence. Every little bit counts right now.”
The Ambassador nodded in turn to the Exarchs, who saluted lightly with their hands clasped together over their chests and exited.
“There is one other thing that I think might be connected to this attack,” Ysiel continued once the Exarchs had left. “About a day before the raid was sprung, one adventurer carrying out the kill bounty managed to return with … unsettling documents.”
Theluin immediately snapped to attention. “What do these documents tell?”
“They aren’t ‘documents’ or reports as such, elder,” Ysiel replied with a distinctly perplexed expression.
“May we seem them, nonetheless?” Theluin inquired gently.
Ysiel turned to her workdesk, unlocked one of the drawers and brought out a moderately thin stack of parchments, which to Eli’s trained eye looked suspiciously like they had been fashioned from seaweed. The expedition leader handed the stack silently to Theluin, who began paging through it carefully.
“Now I may not be an engineer,” Ysiel remarked with a furtive tone, “but I would say they resemble … blueprints of some sort.”
Theluin looked up sharply.
“Blueprints?” Tuan chimed from behind Eli again, this time with a new tone of decided interest. She stepped out a ways further. “Mind if I have a look?”
Ysiel nodded in affirmation.
Theluin simply turned around partially and handed the stack to the she-rogue as she strode into the small light cone shed by the workdesk’s oil lamp. She quickly rifled through the parchments, giving some of them back to Theluin who took them without protest. Without so much as glancing around her, Tuan then stepped up to the workdesk and spread what turned out to be a particularly large, somewhat crudely folded sheet of parchment over the desk’s surface.
Eli found himself staring mutely at the strange, fluid interaction between the usually so fickle she-rogue and the ancient Moon Priest, and then paid rapt attention to Tuan’s mumbled, half-finished phrases as her fingertips traced the garbled mess of technical drawings and references with trained ease. As she seemed to successively identify the blueprint, she took the rest of the documents from Theluin one at a time, spreading them out around the primary sheet in a peculiar pattern.
“This one … and that one here … and that leads … uhuh. Uhuh.” She straightened herself somewhat, bracing her palms on top of the expansive blueprint. “Some kind of pump system. Typical hydraulics schematics. Looks pretty advanced for naga technology, though.”
Ysiel’s sky-blue, glowing eyes narrowed. “We have many confirmed sightings of Broken and Lost Ones working as slaves to the naga.” She glanced at the Ambassador. “Could they be the ones responsible for this construction and its design?”
The Ambassador shook his head resolutely. “The Krokul and their … lesser cousins are scavengers and scroungers, Lady Windsinger, not artificers. Whoever designed this must have come from another source of expertise.”
Tuan stood up suddenly. “Anybody got a spare paper and coal chunk?”
Theluin smoothly reached into a side compartment on his ever-present satchel and handed a short length of neatly shaped coal to his far younger companion, while Ysiel quickly pulled out an empty page of parchment from a stack on the desk. Tuan immediately went to work sketching out a strange contraption with fluted arches and ornate pistons converging on a central column. Eli had to admit to himself that the woman was a skilled artist.
“There,” she said at length, holding up the sketch and putting her head to one side, then the other. “That’d be pretty much what it’d look like, working from the blueprint.” She handed the parchment back to Ysiel; the latter freezing slowly and noticeably as she perused the finished picture.
“Do you recognize this, Lady Windsinger?” Theluin ventured in a low voice.
Ysiel recomposed herself with a visible effort. “… the … adventurer that … recovered these blueprints …” She drew a little breath. “… also reported the presence of what he described as a … ‘steam pump’ of sorts.” She raised her head to look the Moon Priest straight in the eye. “Right at the edge of the lake that particular enclave had been established by.”
“Steam pump, huh?” Tuan mumbled, going over the blueprints again. “Aha.” She set her finger down on something that completely eluded Eli’s comprehension. “Boiler plate, right here.” She eased herself down on her elbows, casually scrutinizing the schematic. “I did wonder about propulsion … this type of hydraulics doesn’t exactly run itself on the water pressure it induces.”
The proverbial lightbulb went up in Eli’s head. “… the water levels.” He stared at Ysiel, who turned to him with the same dreadful recognition in her gaze. “The Naga are draining th’ swamp.”
A stunned silence ensued.
Tuan, who had been rapidly glancing back forth between the various contributors over the last few seconds, then spoke up again. “I ran a bunch of errands up northeast while we were at Telredor,” she stated in a furtive tone. “Whole place looked like there used to be a lake up there … now it’s barren.”
Ysiel turned to her slowly, almost dazedly. “Barren?”
“Parched. All the way down to the silt sediments at its lowest point. And—” The she-rogue stood up, reached over and tapped the sketch still held numbly in Ysiel’s hand. “—I found a machinery piece, looking almost exactly like this. Standing right where the lakes’ original shoreline must’ve been, with a whole mess of plumbing reaching right down into the lake’s bottom.”
Ysiel inhaled sharply. “Was it operational?”
Tuan shook her head plainly. “It had been broken up pretty bad. I’m guessing the local bog giants must’ve torn it apart.”
Ysiel’s eyes flashed with a new pulse of thought. “Were you able to ascertain what condition these bog giants were in?”
“In a word?” Tuan scratched her neck lightly with one hand. “Dehydrated. Kinda like giant, walking chunks of marshland having been completely sucked dry.”
Ysiel breathed deeply, dropping the sketch back onto the now deeply disturbing blueprint spread over the entire workdesk, and put a hand to her forehead. “… this is a disaster. What in the name of Cenarius’ immortal sons … the naga are aquatic creatures. Why would they purposefully eradicate the very environment they rely on?!”
“If they are using pumps to remove the water from the lakes …” Theluin stroke his beard almost absent-mindedly. “… where are they taking it? There must be some kind of reservoir somewhere.”
“A darn huge reservoir, if they’re plannin’ ta fit th’ whole marsh innit,” Eli remarked quietly.
Ysiel’s hand slid down to her chin, her eyes far away. “The largest lake we’ve so far identified is to our northwest, just below the southernmost part of the Blade’s Edge mountain range. We’ve dubbed it ‘Serpent Lake’ … for obvious reasons.”
“Are these naga tryin’ ta create their own miniature sea, then?” Eli wondered aloud and rather dubiously. “It would kinda make sense, seein’ as they’re ocean-dwellers rather than swamp creatures.”
Ysiel shook her head slowly. “I doubt even that lake would be enough to hold all the water of Zangarmarsh, if that is what they are intending.” She shook her head again, more resolutely this time, and began gathering up the blueprints again. “Right now, we don’t have the leeway to conduct any investigations. But I want to express my sincere gratitude for these revelations you have helped us uncover … dire as they are.” She blinked suddenly in brief surprise, looking around and then relaxed into a small, resigned smile, turning to Theluin. “It would appear your roguish protégée has already fled the premises, Elder.”
Eli looked around too, and sighed inwardly. Indeed, Tuan was no-where to be found.
Theluin merely smiled diplomatically. “She tends to do that, Lady Windsinger.”
“Feel free to forward my word of thanks nevertheless, if the opportunity presents itself.” Ysiel’s eyes became solemn for a moment. “Her expertise and observational wit just might have garnered us insights that otherwise would have gone unheeded – to everyone’s eventual ruin.”
She straightened herself and addressed the Draenei Ambassador. “It is high time for me to see to the restoration of the Refuge. I wish you all safety on your journey when you resume it.”
“Same to you, Lady Windsinger,” the Ambassador replied with a respectful bow. “May the Light embolden you and your allies.” Ysiel inclined her head politely in return.
Outside, the initial hubbub had steadied somewhat into the quiet determination of refortification and eventual retaliation. Eli could see the Exarchs taking turns among the remaining incapacitated Wardens; he even spotted two of the Vindicator adjutants helping a female Tauren to her feet once their masters had secured and mended a nasty thigh fracture.
Tuan was already waiting by her horse, nonchalantly leaned against his side with her arms crossed. “Looks like they can put their opinions aside when it matters,” she pointed out in her usual caustic manner. Sandy twitched an ear ironically.
Eli let show a faint, lopsided smile. “They aren’t goin’ ta start getting hypocritical jus’ yet, if that’s what yer meanin’,” he replied, stepping over to Absolution and checking the charger’s harness. The white-pelted stallion nodded its head with a snort, and Eli patted its neck soothingly.
Spotting their charge approaching, the Exarchs wrapped up their undertakings and reconvened by the elekks, mounting up and preparing themselves for departure. Likewise, Theluin, Eli and Tuan sat up on their respective steeds, and with the Ambassador leading the way, the delegation filed through the settlement towards the southern exit.
Tuan, however, found her attention piqued by the tell-tale nerve crackle that told her in no uncertain terms that someone was watching her. She threw her gaze one way and then the other – catching sight of a rather elderly-looking Broken who duly flinched away from her as her piercing gaze landed on him. Then he bowed somewhat awkwardly to her, gesturing lightly.
She raised her eyebrows, letting her body language relax, and steered Sandy over to the Broken, who bowed his head again, deeper this time.
“Anything you wanted?” she asked in a low but neutral voice, leaning forward and crossing her forearms over the saddle pommel.
The Broken fidgeted for a moment, a faint twinkle of barely restrained instinctual fear in his eyes, but he straightened himself nonetheless. “… you are headed to great Shattrath?” he inquired in his deep, somewhat weakened bass.
Tuan nodded. “Mhm.”
“Then it is only fair that you are warned,” the Broken went on. He caught himself momentarily, drawing a breath. “… my name is Ikeyen, and I have lived here in the Refuge for some time. But before that …”
She furrowed her brow in sympathy. “The naga?”
This elicited a tired and, well, broken chuckle from the wasted old Krokul. “The naga, yes. They are terrible … but even more terrible are the traitor tribes of Lost Ones and Broken that have taken to helping them, turning their own kin into their prey.” Ikeyen looked back up at the she-rouge, his sunken eyes hardening. “South of here … along the road to Terokkar, are the Umbrafen. Perhaps the most despicable of them all – they use trickery and dark magic to ensnare and enslave any traveller caught unawares.” He caught himself again, a flicker of old and not-so-old pain passing through his gaze. “They … are particularly cruel to those that manage to escape them. … if I were to leave this Refuge for one day, I would have my throat slit by one of their hunters before the sun would set.” He bowed his head, screwing his eyes shut.
Tuan’s face hardened in turn, but her eyes were empathetic. “Want me to teach them a few lessons?”
Ikeyen looked up at her again, now with a surprisingly mild smile of thankfulness. “No need to worry about me. There have been many other … adventurers such as you to help me with that. I have had my revenge; I have retrieved my belongings, few as they are. The Refuge is my home and sanctuary. I am content.”
He then straightened himself again, his eyes becoming determined once more. “But you … the one that travels with you. The Wordbearer.”
Tuan raised her eyebrows slowly as the realization sunk in. Ikeyen neither nodded nor made any other move to confirm her insight, merely stared back at her hard as his voice lowered a few increments. “He will be … valuable to them.” The Broken clenched his fists. “Protect him.”
Tuan nodded silently, sitting back up in the saddle, and tapped Sandy into a trot to catch up with the delegation again.
“What took you so long?” Eli remarked quietly.
“Meh.” Tuan leaned back in the saddle in her usual indifferent manner. “Had a quick chat with this old Broken fella.”
Eli glanced back over his shoulder at the refuge that gradually vanished into the marsh fog behind them. “… ol’ Ikeyen? And he didn’t run away from you?”
“Hardy har.” She shot him a little smirk. “I’ll have you know it was him that wanted to chat with me.”
Eli adjusted his grip on Abolition’s reins. “Anythin’ special he wanted t’ tell ya?”
Tuan shrugged dismissively. “Something about Lost Ones, and this Umbrafen gang that apparently lives south of here.”
Eli furrowed his brow. “Y’ think they’re gonna try an’ ambush us?”
“If they do, we’ll just deal with it then,” Tuan quipped back glibly. She shot another, broader grin at the Paladin. “That’s what we’re here for, right?”
He smiled defeatedly.
---
Originally written by Tuan Taureo
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