Warcraft 1. Chapter 1: In which deals are made

1.

The hot sun of Durotar beat down mercilessly upon the streets of Orgrimmar that day, as various members of the Horde went about on their business, streaming in and out of the city. A lone figure walked up one of the great stone ramps towards a near-abandoned building, glancing about nervously as he did so, and ducked inside.

Unperturbed by the heat, he blinked his eyes, adjusting to the rather dim interior of the hovel and creeping slowly in. Kronkt hated running errands. An orc of his stature and natural bulk† would be better suited to battle, but with the glut of new recruits, he was informed that his 'contributions' were no longer necessary. This was a sore spot of constant irritation, and it was with no degree of gentility that he spoke his next words.

"LEGIONNARE SWOOP," he bellowed, "THE HORDE HAS NEED OF YOUR SERVIC-"

"Whaaaaaaaat." One golden eye blinked lazily at him from the hammock at the end of the room, where the undead creature...slept, apparently. Kronkt shifted uncomfortably, eyeing the creature with no small amount of dismay. She was sprawled across the hammock, head hanging over the edge of the ropes. Kronkt stood there for a moment, considering his next course of action. "I...uh...the...horde has need of your services."

"I'm napping." With that, she closed her eye.

"But it's IMPORTANT. They uh, they sent me to come get you. If I don't come back with you there could be serious repercussions for uh, for me." Kronkt shifted his weight nervously. The Forsaken had always made him vaguely uncomfortable, he wasn't quite sure why. Right now, it had something to do with the fact that the girl in front of him had her head hanging in what would be a precarious and uncomfortable position for most, causing the blood to rush to one's head. He couldn't imagine how it could possibly be comfortable until he remembered that undead really didn't...bleed. To his credit, he didn't shudder. Much.

"Fine. What is it."

"You are to meet with the leader of the Darkspear Tribe, Vol'jin. He asked for you specifically." Kronkt spat out the last sentence distastefully. Why the leader of their troll allies would be looking for an undead of all things, especially this little snot of a priest, when he could have a great warrior like Kronkt mystified him.

It never really occurred to him that perhaps it was just that his whining got on everyone's nerves.

Swoop slid off the hammock with a thump and stood, gathering herself and favoring him with another curious glance. The orc seemed vaguely uncomfortable, and a very tiny smile flickered across her face. "...well then, I shouldn't keep him waiting, should I." The orc was still starting at her, slack-jawed and unsettled. "...is there something wrong?"

"I uh...no. I just wasn't aware that...I mean...do you really need to sleep? You know, being undead and uh...all that." The orc stammered, puffing out his chest and attempting to look more intimidating but the effect was lost on the priest, who stared at him quite levelly and raised an eyebrow.††

"Yes. We sleep. We eat too. Sometimes we have sex."

With that she pushed by him and tramped outside, leaving the orc to stutter at himself.

It was really no surprise to Swoop that Vol'jin himself would be calling for her, as she had done more than one service for the Darkspear in the past - indeed, enough that they had gone out of the way to train her in raptor riding and let her have one of their war raptors. Said raptor was now making its bouncy way††† towards the Valley of Wisdom with her on its back, and as she rode she pondered what exactly Vol'jin could possibly have in mind for her. A question to be answered shortly as she strode into the chambers of the Horde leader, nodding briefly at the guards and giving Vol'jin a curtsey before flopping on the ground in front of him.

"Sorry, been a long day and it's hotter than...well, you know. What do you need?"

Vol'jin grinned at her as she fanned herself with one hand. "'ey, it be m'eetle friend. You be doin' good, hey?" At the nod and brief smile from the priest, he continued. "I be needin' a favor from ya. It be...very confidential. Hush-hush. Need someone who won't go blabbin ere and dere about what she be doin'. You fit de bill."

A careful nod from the girl in front of him and his grin widened. "Good. I be needin' ya to go talk to Jes'rimon over in de Drag. 'e'll tell ya where to go and what ta do. Hokay?"

"Jes'rimon? ...I'd rather not deal with...him." Swoop remember her past dealings with the unsavory little twerp of a troll and his machinations to move her here and frowned. A chance to plant her staff in his face though, that might prove entertaining, and Vol'jin looked terribly serious as he nodded, leaning forward to quietly speak in her ear.

"Look, ah know you don't be likin' 'im, I don't think 'e be likin ya either, but dis...dis is terribly important. Ya gotta do this for me Swoop, 'dere's a lot more at stake 'ere than where ya be sleepin' next or 'ow many people are wanderin' round Orgrimmar." She blinked, startled, and wondered just how much Jes'rimon had told him of her previous dealings with the troll. Swoop had appeared out of nowhere it seemed, taking some by surprise and others not even noticing her...newness. Had Jes'rimon babbled about this dimensional switch goose chase he'd led her on to Vol'jin himself? It seemed unlikely but the troll was looking at her as if he knew everything about her already, and he spoke again, quietly. "...it be a matter of whether or not de Horde continue ta survive, if ya catch my drift."

She nodded. "Done. Shall I go now?"

The force of the troll leader's encouraging clap on her back nearly knocked her over as he nodded, grinning and thanking her for her assistance. She gathered herself once more, curtseyed delicately to Vol'jin, and made her way out of the building and towards the Drag.

Had she been paying attention, she would have noticed that Vol'jin's grin just got wider and wider as she left, and his eyes glittered with unbridled glee in a manner that was most unsettling.

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† - About 5'3" and 110lbs soaking wet.

†† - The raising of eyebrows has long been a natural sign of aggression in most creatures. The rhinoceros for example will often raise an eyebrow before charging, though most tend to overlook this what with all the stamping snorting and head-tossing, not to mention inevitable goring.

††† - Raptors, while quite intelligent, have no suspension system or shocks whatsoever. Also they have stinky breath that smells vaguely like rotting tuna that was probably dissatisfied with the results of its life given that it ended up stuck in the crevasses of a raptor's teeth.


	2. Chapter 2: In which duels are made

2.

"Seriously. A feral druid could take a resto druid any time, any day of the week." The words echoed in the hollow cavern that was the Drag, as Swoop went on her way to find Jes'rimon. Keebis, one of her guild mates was deep in discussion with another druid.

"You think so? You really think so? C'mon, prove it." The other druid - a tauren by the name of Bovia, shook her head. "Let's go duel. Out front. Now. It's on."

"If you want to get whupped, it's on. Outside the front gates. Let's go."

The two wandered off in the general direction of Orgrimmar's main entrance, leaving the priest to continue her way up the tower that Jes'rimon made his home of sorts.

"Ah, da priest dat hails from elsewhere. And 'ow are tings working out for ya?" The troll leered at her, a sly grin on his face.† "Plenty 'o adventures ta be had? Or do you need more...excitement?"

"Can it Jes. I'm here on official business. Vol'jin sent me."

The words seemed to startle him, his eyes widening briefly before resuming his more naturally relaxed posture. "Ah. Dat. Well, it be complicated, 'eetle priest. Ya see, dere be someting dat we've been lookin' for, for a long, long time. And we found it - but it be hard to get to."

"...we?"

Jes'rimon rolled his eyes impatiently. "Da Darkspear. Da Horde in general. Even Thrall, 'e be lookin for it. We know where it is, now, but we can't get it back 'ere. Dat's where you come in - you gotta go get it an' bring it back. If de alliance get dere hands on it 'afore we do, da results could be disastrous - more dan you can imagine."

The priest regarded him levelly, raising an eyebrow.

"...worse than being killed in the prime of whatever life it was I had before and raised again as a mindless slave, forced to slaughter those that had been my kin and loved ones prior to my untimely demise, then killed once more and re-raised with the memories and regrets of my prior actions and life?"

The troll paused. "...yes."

Swoop tilted her head. "What exactly are we talking about here?"

"I can't tell ya much more dan I already 'ave, priest. Others 'ave tried to retrieve dis...item, and we 'aven't seen dem return. It's a scroll, very old."

"What's on it?"

Jes'rimon waggled a finger at her. "Ah ah...I can't be tellin' ya dat. Told ya, no questions asked. I CAN tell ya, da side dat possesses da scroll is da side dat will win. Da side dat don't 'ave it..." He trailed off, sliding a finger across his throat.

"I...see. Why me then?"

"We tried everyone else. You been good to da Darkspeah, good to da Horde, loyal to Orgrimmar. Da best warriors couldn't get it - maybe it take a priest to get in dere and get it out."

She nodded, considering. It wasn't really as if she had anything else to do. "All right. Where is it?"

"Azshara. Dere be a series of ruins...it be holed up somewhere in dere. I suggest you start right away - da sooner we get dis back to us, da bettah."

Swoop nodded again and turned to leave, her robes sweeping gracefully around her. "All right."

Jes'rimon turned away, rolling his eyes again when a small cough caused him to turn around.†† "Aw c'mon I told ya all I c-"

His eyes widened again in surprise at the sharp end of a wicked looking staff that was presently pressed quite firmly against one of the larger veins in his neck. Two glowing eyes regarded him evenly and the priest spoke again, her voice pleasant and low. "And Jes'rimon...I believe you ought to know that if there's anything particularly fishy or odd about this particular mission I will be hunting you down and taking my aggravation out on you. Understood?"

Without waiting for an answer she whirled and strode down the spiral ramp of the tower, a tiny smile crossing her face at the disgruntled troll's angry mumblings that followed her steps.

_Azshara, huh? I'll ride there. It's not far._ A few days worth of rations purchased and safely stowed in a pack on her raptor later, and she was on her way out the front gate. Keebis and Bovia were deeply entrenched in their duel, oblivious to her passage, a few stray people watching them, entranced. Guiding her raptor around them, she set off on her way.

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† - Most trolls seem to be grinning in one fashion or another, a tactic often employed by the crocodile. After all nothing quite says "I'm going to kill you cheerfully" as much as a mouth full of teeth bared in an amicably menacing smile.

†† - The last thing one should _ever_ do when confronted by a small cough behind them is turn around. At worst it's a very polite murderer attempting to get your attention, at best it's that annoying woman that stands in the aisles of select department stores, waiting to hose one down with perfume while declaring it's name in an exclamatory fashion and you're about to get a faceful of Obsession.


	3. Chapter 3: In which elves are unnerved

3.

"The stage is set, my precious. Soon...soon the world will tremble and fawn at my feet, especially you, my li-"

Arch Druid Fandral Staghelm whirled at the sound of soft footsteps behind him, hastily hiding whatever he'd been holding, his face purple† with irritation. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN MY QUARTERS!"

The intruder, a relatively young druid for elven standards, bowed politely. "I was told you needed to see me, sir." His voice was soft and low, respectful. Fandral, who had caught sight of himself in one of the many mirrors in his quarters, seemed to be entranced by his own reflection, sneering at it appreciatively. The druid stood there uncertainly, waiting for the Arch Druid to say something, anything, as the silence stretched on. "Uhm...sir?" he finally uttered, earning another whirl and an angry glare from the previously occupied leader.

"WHAT. IS. IT."

"I...I was told to come see you, sir. They uh...said you had some sort of s-special assignment for me...?" The druid trailed off as Fandral's face went from enraged to delighted in the span of a half-second. Fandral was now favoring him with something that he was relatively certain was supposed to be a toothy and reassuring smile.††

"Ah yes! The special assignment! You know they only send the most..._special_ to me for this sort of thing, and yet none sent before you have returned. Perhaps you can succeed where others have failed. Miserably. And repeatedly." Fandral smoothed his hair, picking at his teeth absentmindedly.

"Sir?"

The Arch Druid stared in the mirror, apparently checking for cavities, now. "...mmm?"

"Uh...what IS the assignment, sir?"

"I was getting to that. Impatience doesn't suit you. There is an ancient artifact that I...the Alliance has had its eyes out for for what could be called an eternity by those who haven't lived one-" he puffed his chest out and continued, "-and it's been located, finally. It needs to be retrieved and returned to m...us as quickly as possible. BEFORE those filthy savages can get their hands on it." He spat the last sentence out in disgust, his nose wrinkling in dismay. "If they find it before I...we do, there could be serious repercussions the likes of which I am certain your small yet strangely eager mind could not comprehend."

The druid nodded, sighing inwardly. "Of course, sir. Where is this...artifact?"

"I was GETTING to that, youngling." Fandral sneered again, patting the druid on the head. "I realize you'd like to be on your way but perhaps you should wait until you have all information before flitting out the door like a novice."

Rankled, the druid merely nodded again and waited for Fandral to say something. After a brief pause that he supposed the Arch Druid meant to be dramatic but was really just irritating, Fandral drew a deep breath and continued in a grand and droll fashion. "The artifact is a scroll, a very, very old scroll. My sources have discovered it is being hidden in one of the great ruins of Azshara. It is of utmost importance to m...the Alliance that you find this scroll and return it to me as quickly as possible. If you fail in your mission..." He rolled his eyes, apparently expecting this outcome, "...well, if you fail we'll have to send another."

"I...uh...all right. Shall I leave now then, sir?"

"Impatience again. It doesn't suit you. Yes, by all means go, and get back here quickly young...whatever your name is."

"It's A-"

The Arch Druid cut him off abruptly with a wave of his hand. "-it doesn't MATTER, get out, get OUT! I have urgent matters to tend to!"

Chastened, the druid bowed in what he hoped was a respectful manner and backed his way out the door to Fandral's enraged mutterings. _Pompous ass..._ Frowning, he made his way to the vendor's quarter to purchase supplies for his journey.

Fandral watched him leave, muttering under his breath. "It doesn't matter what your name is...that way when you fail I shan't have to go to the trouble of mourning your inevitable demise."

He turned back to the cabinet behind him, removing the objects he'd hidden upon the druid's untimely interruption and cleared his throat.

"Now where was I? Oh yes..."

"_Oh no Fandral, you're so big and strong, I'm afraid...afraid I can resist you no further!_" he squeaked, holding the two dolls together.

"It's all right Tyrande baby. Papa Bear's gonna protect you."

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† - Moreso than usual.

†† - It was neither of these things.


	4. Chapter 4: In which plans go afoul

4.

_"This place would be great if it weren't for all these motherf($&ing naga on the mother($&ing plains."†_

Swoop made her way through the naga-infested ruins of Azshara, continuing her grumbling observations of the current tenants of the area. It would have been easier, the thought crossed her mind, had she been given a general...area at least to look in for the blasted scroll, but she'd been so eager to part company with Jes'rimon that she hadn't asked. Her own fault really, and as she made her way into the last of the ruined temples, mind-soothing her way past the naga inside, she was relieved to see at the top of the spiral ramp a cubby in which was carefully stacked several dusty tablets and on top of the tablets, a scroll. The tablets and scroll were being guarded by two of the largest naga she'd seen, and she knew there'd be no mind-soothing her way around them.

With a reserved smile, she mind-controlled one of them and forced him to turn unwillingly upon his companion and start vigorously beating him with his trident. His companion retaliated, quickly killing her minion. He blinked, staring at the corpse, then slowly came to the realization there was more at work here at about the same moment as Swoop started casting. Hissing violently, he turned on her, raising his trident and forcing her to duck out of the way, spell after spell flying from her nimble fingers.

----

The druid approached the final ramp of the final building, stealthing his way up the ramp in catform. It occurred to him that perhaps he should have asked for more clear directions as to the location of the scroll, but even as he pondered the horrifying thought of spending more time in the Arch Druid's presence a hissing shout from up the ramp told him there this was not only more than likely the place, but somebody had already beaten him to it. As he rounded the corner, he took in the scene before him - one gigantic naga corpse on the floor, another equally large naga currently facing off with...an undead.

Curious, he thought, that the Horde would send one of the Forsaken on a mission such as this. He had heard tales that the Horde were largely distrustful of their undead allies. But this...girl, as he determined upon creeping closer to the fight, was apparently what they had decided upon. She murmured spells as she fought, her body moving fluidly despite the absence of life, and he watched the two of them dance together in a ballet of death that was almost...beautiful, in a way.††

Blinking, he snapped out of his reverie. This was really no time to be sitting around casually observing things. His eyes lit on the scroll and he crept up to it, leaning forward to catch it up in his mouth as the naga behind him gave a great cry and died. A startled shout and he knew he'd been discovered. Leaping gracefully over the railing and landing effortlessly on his feet, he flew out of the ruins and up into the hills surrounding the area. That had been close, really.

----

"That's right you scaly piece of s&$t, keep right on hitting me, you're dead anyway motherf$&(er..." Swoop muttered to herself as she continued casting, taking care to stay out of reach of the damned trident. With a great cry, the naga fell. Satisfied and more than a little smug she turned to fetch the scroll-

-and yelped another choice phrase or two as a cat picked the scroll up neatly in his teeth. Before she could think, it was off over the rail and out the building altogether. Swearing profusely, she stomped out of the ruins and watched him go, calling her raptor to her and following his trail.

----

The druid leapt up the hills from rock to rock, bounding over them until he felt he'd gotten far enough away and tucking himself neatly into a crevasse between two large stones. _Lost her. Good._

He stared at the decaying scroll, still rolled tightly and tied with a cord neatly wrapped round it. Ten minutes later and he was still staring at it, pondering.

The Arch Druid seemed awfully eager to get his hands on the thing. Almost a little too eager, and as he had completed all his required training and thus become all-too-aquainted with the Cenarion Circle, the young druid was more than aware of the rift between the Arch Druid and the Circle itself. Why, honestly, would the Arch Druid be searching for this, and if the Alliance was that fervent about it, why wouldn't he have heard anything of this particular artifact before now?

Why indeed...and it couldn't really hurt to simply take a look at the thing now, could it...he could always claim the undead had opened it. Thus bolstered, he carefully undid the tie, opening the scroll and holding it to the dim light of sunset to read it.

Only he couldn't understand a bloody word of the thing. Great. Wonderful. It appeared to be written in...demonic? It wasn't a language he was familiar with, and although he was not fluent in the other races languages, he knew enough to identify them on sight, and this was not a language he'd encountered before. Peering thoughtfully at the words, he tried to make sense of them, to no avail.

But one word, jumbled in amongst the rest leapt from the page to his searching eyes. _Morrowgrain_.

To be sure, the Arch Druid had certainly shown an interest in that particular herb. An odd, intense interest. What did this scroll have to do with the plant that so many had been sent to pick, and why was the Arch Druid trying so hard to cultivate it? Curiouser and curiouser.

A small cough behind him broke his reverie, and he turned, hoping it wasn't a very polite murderer.†††

The last thing he saw before he blacked out was the glowing golden orbs of the Forsaken priest he'd left behind in the temple, sparkling staff raised high above her head, the last he heard was the surprisingly low and melodious voice of the undead as she muttered something at him, and the last he thought was "Oh s&$t."

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† - This comment really doesn't deserve a footnote.

†† - IE, blood-spatteringly.

††† - Sometimes, hope is ironically funny.


	5. Chapter 5: In which an escape is made

5.

"Nighty-night, kitty." The staff made a pleasant thunking sound as it collided with the elf's head, and he crumpled to the ground with a soft moan. Swoop plucked the scroll from his limp fingers and once more called her raptor to her, bounding away over the rocks and hills.

_He opened it. Why'd he open it? Did they tell him to open it?_ She wasn't sure why the elf was looking at the scroll, but he seemed to be lost in thought when she crept up on him, reading the scroll and muttering to himself, not even noticing her approach. Swoop eyed the now safely rolled up piece of parchment with a certain curiosity.

It had been too easy really, upon reflection. It wasn't terribly hard to get up to the room itself, and the naga in there didn't seem to be particularly intelligent. What exactly had kept people from coming back? Why hadn't they simply returned with the thing? And...why was the damned hairball reading the blasted thing, anyway?

Frowning, she halted the raptor, sliding off of him and letting him wander and sniff happily at the local fauna† as she found a quiet place to sit down and contemplate the scroll. Well...she'd have to tell them the druid opened it anyway, so it couldn't really hurt to take a little peek.

But the scroll was mostly gibberish to her - demonic, from the looks of it. However, one word leapt out at her from the aging page - morrowgrain. She was vaguely familiar with the stuff, had collected some of it for the druids of the Cenarion Circle - a process which was annoyingly time-consuming and irritating, if she recalled correctly. Come to think of it, they had mentioned that the Arch Druid of the nightelves was collecting his own supply of the stuff, hence their urgency for its retrieval. Curious. One would think the alliance would've sent someone more experienced than the rather-young looking druid to get the scroll itself...unless of course, it wasn't the alliance so much as it was the Arch Druid trying to get his hands on the thing.

She didn't get a small cough.†† Instead she got a whallop in the back that stunned her, the druid artfully snatching the scroll from her fingers as she stood there, dazed. He gave her an impudent wink, shifting into catform and dashing off with the damn thing.

_Why that little s$!t._

Her response time was immediate as soon as the stun wore off, whistling for her raptor and chasing after the furball, a careful frown on her face.

----

The druid dashed madly through the grass and underbrush, cutting his way around trees and through bushes, trying desperately to cover his trail. He couldn't let her get it back again. The thought of facing the Arch Druid and telling him he'd failed was misery-inducing.††† A glance over his shoulder sent him into a panic as he glimpsed a now very irritated Forsaken atop a murderous-looking raptor, bearing down on him faster than he could run - and with what was really quite an acrobatic leap she dismounted, landing in front of him and rising to her full height as he skidded to a halt.

Oh crap.

Hissing, he swiped at her, a move which she dodged with a smile, throwing back her head and screaming to the sky as he flew off in a panic, no longer in control of his limbs. The fight was on now - and as his fear broke, he shifted again, slamming her with a moonfire and shifting once more into bearform. With a whisper, the effects of his moonfire were removed, and his body shuddered as she whispered a few more choice words, afflictions coursing through him. She then had the audacity to _curtsey_.

Well that was more than enough of that. With a roar, he charged her, stunning her for a moment and swatting at her...but it wasn't reaching her...damn, she'd shielded herself. He ripped through it - only to find her shielding herself again, raining smites upon his shoulders. This really wasn't working out at all.

Switching to another tactic, he shifted back into his elven form and began hurling spells at her - ah, that was working better. The shield gone, he uttered another spell, green fire crackling from his fingertips as she dodged, whirled, rained golden fire upon him, and he darted out of the way.

A dance, really. That's what it was. Cast, dodge, whirl, turn and step, weaving back and forth, the two of them silhouetted against the setting sun, and once more he found himself admiring her to a degree, detached in the back of his mind - she really was quite the worthy opponent - and narrowly dodging another attack, healing himself, casting again, turning-

-only to slam full-on against the Forsaken, who had apparently been whirling when she should have turned.†††† She gave a soft gasp as they collided, her body pressed to his.

It was at that moment that the world itself seemed to slow to a crawl, time standing still. He gazed down at her - honestly, she wasn't really...unattractive at all, her face smooth and pale, eyes glowing pleasantly, lips trembling ever so slightly...she tilted her head, eyes wide with curiosity, her robes sparkling in the dim light of dusk. He lowered his arms, slowly, all the while damning himself for...was it attraction? To this creature? Perhaps...his hand moved to her hair, which didn't really seem straw-like as he'd imagined, but rather soft - she trembled as he did so, eyelids half closing ---

---

---

---

---

-and time rapidly snapped back into place as her uncomfortably bony knee collided violently with his crotch. He crumpled instantly.

She snatched the scroll from him, and with a high, reedy giggle, whistled for her raptor and leapt away, leaving him curled up in the grass, cursing at himself.

----

"Stanley, dear. Pull over and go get yourself a snack." The raptor clucked and hooted at her, whistling in concern as she prodded him away, perching once more on a convenient rock and pulling out the scroll for more careful observation.

That had been an _awfully_ fun fight. Especially the bit where she nailed him in the junk. She giggled again, remembering the rapt look on the little elf's face as he stared at her. _Gods, you'd swear he thought it was a fairy tale...wait'll I tell the boys about that one..._

Aged parchment smelled funny. And the words were too hard to read. She'd simply have to find someone to translate it-er...well...it was open anyway, and she was terribly curious as to what it said. Swoop frowned again, eyes squinting to make out the letters in the near-darkness. Why exactly WEREN'T any of the others sent for this item successful, anyway? It was easy to get. Almost...too easy to get, really...

A panicked squawk told her Stanley had either found something that bit back, or the damned elf was nearby again. She stood, collecting herself as she went looking for the beast, only to find him running very rapidly towards her, eyes wide with panic. How very odd, there was little that frightened him. Holding out her hand to calm him, she was nearly knocked over as he barreled right on past her and off into the trees, still screeching up a storm. _What the hell..._

Another more careful look into the dim light of the forest uncovered what exactly he'd been running from - or rather, a more careful look upwards, as the pissed-off giant had legs that one could easily mistake for trees. Shocked, Swoop could only stare at it, scroll held limply in her hands. The creature strode towards where her raptor had gone - and then turned, catching sight of the priest, its eyes narrowing as it caught sight of the scroll. "MINE! YOU TAKE! YOU WILL NOT KEEP!" it bellowed.

Well, she pondered as she turned tail and fled, that certainly explained where the others had gone to.

Weaving through the trees gave her an inordinate sense of deja vu, and she darted through some narrow rocks and crevices, scroll clutched tightly in her hand. She'd be damned if that giant got ahold of it NOW, not after all the crap she'd been through-

With absolutely no noise whatsoever, she was barreled over from the left - and whatever had knocked her to the ground was entirely too hairy to be Stanley. Ah, the druid. It was about time for him to make a reappearance anyway. Persistent little bugger. Arms waving, she attempted to make him aware of her pursuer, but he wasn't having any of it. Shifting to his elven form, he snatched the scroll from her, darting away as she rose to her feet.

He looked a little unnerved as she favored him with a smile and a cheery wave. His expression quickly changed as a roar from behind alerted him to the giant's presence - the giant, to its credit, noticed where the scroll had gone, and wasn't really choosy in who to exact revenge upon, crashing towards the now-pale and panicked druid. Swoop folded her arms and waited for the inevitable conclusion. Poor little guy. He really did put up quite the fight.

It was thus with no small sense of horror that she watched him calmly call out a spell, rooting the giant in place while it roared defiantly, and then turn to her _with a graceful bow_, muttering another spell and disappearing with a flash of white light.

The giant, freed from its prison, started to stride towards her, but grew greatly confused at the lack of the scroll, scratching its head. After careful perusal of the area, it simply gave up, blundering back to the ruins from whence it came.

And the delicate sound of a thousand angry obscenities caused a flight of birds to take off startled into the air over the fields of Azshara as the priest vented her frustration.

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† - And eat about 3/4 of it. Raptors aren't terribly picky about their diet.

†† - Sometimes, people learn.

††† - Not to mention vaguely nauseating.

†††† - The women of the Forsaken are notoriously sh$&ty dancers.


	6. Chapter 6: In which demons are found

6.

The morning sun glimmered over the city of Orgrimmar, its careful beams softly lighting the rooftops. It was quiet for now, the inhabitants not quite having started their day - save for the sound of roaring from the general direction of the front gates as Keebis and Bovia continued their duel.

And in the city itself, perched on a lone rooftop was a rogue, silently sharpening his blades in preparation for the day. An undead rogue that didn't move or start when a priest suddenly leapt onto the roof beside him, flopping casually on her side and peering at the city down below, her expression...tense.

"Hey Swoop."

"Hey Chetter. How's it going?"

The rogue didn't look up from his sharpening, shrugging. "Eh, it's going. Nothing exciting really happening yet but the day's just started. What's up?"

Swoop idly picked at the stonework of the roof, attempting to look casual. "Not much. Hey, question for you."

"I got an' answer, but you gotta go first."

A delicate tilt of the head and studious observation of the sky. "What...exactly do you know about morrowgrain?"

"MORROWGRAIN?" With that Chetter exploded into a rather impressive tirade, a string of obscenities flying effortlessly from what remained of his lips. Swoop watched him flail his arms around as he described the efforts he'd gone through to obtain the stuff for the Cenarion Circle - really, there was no point in interrupting, it was best to just let him get it all out.

"TWO WEEKS! TWO WEEKS I WAS IN THAT _#$(&#($(_ CRATER, picking FLOWERS for those #$&#$(& DRUIDS and trying to get GRASS and do you know, do you know what they told me when I finally got enough of that st to bring back to them?! Do you know? _Oh hey thanks **GO GET MORE**._ &#!$ those druids. I _s$&t_ on their morrowgrain."† Panting, he ground to a halt, blinking as he remembered she was sitting next to him and glancing at her curiously. "Why d'you want to know about that s$&t anyway Swoop?"

The priest shifted uncomfortably. "I uh...can't really talk about it."

"Ohhhhh, I get it. Sneaky work, huh? C'mon, you can tell me, I promise I won't tell anybody." He patted her arm reassuringly. "It's not like I haven't been in that line of work before or anything."

"I...okay but you have to promise not to tell a _soul_." He nodded, and she continued, explaining her rather unusual task and what she'd found, and how the druid had shown up at precisely the wrong time. "I'm not sure where he went, but...well if he was looking at the scroll that closely, then I can only assume he was looking for some sort of meaning in it too - so I thought maybe if I knew more about the morrowgrain I could...I dunno, find him or something. Either way it's odd, really odd, you know?"

Chetter nodded. "Y'know I bet - you said it was a white light, not green, right? When he left?" At the priest's nod he continued, "Then he didn't hearth outta there, he teleported to Moonglade. Druids can do that s$&t. Bet he's ther-oh hey!"

"What?"

The rogue grinned. "If he wanted to know more about that crap then he probably went to talk to Umber. He's the archivist up there - swear all he does is read s$&t. You should go see if that druid's there. Bet at the very least Umber'd know about that scroll thing."

Swoop gave Chetter an impromptu hug. "Thanks, you may have just saved me a LOT of trouble. See ya later Chet!"

The rogue waved after her as she scampered off, then went back to his sharpening, muttering under his breath.

----

Moonglade was awfully pretty - green and lush, quiet, and had Swoop not been on an urgent mission she would've liked to have stayed for a few days and soak in the lake. But missions were missions and after asking for directions, she finally found the elusive Umber, a nervous looking human who was mumbling to himself absentmindedly and sorting through a large stack of dusty, thick tomes. She coughed politely, and when that didn't seem to get his attention tapped him on the shoulder.

He screamed almost _exactly_ like a little girl. How fun.

"WHAT...oh. Oh. Hello there traveler! Why, were you looking for me?" At Swoop's nod the odd little man beamed. "Oh marvelous! Hardly _anyone_ comes to visit old Umber anymore, nobody has the time you see and nobody cares about all these books, or the knowledge, it's always 'Here's a book Umber, fetch this bit of information for me Umber, file this for me Umber, lick m-"

"-I uh actually had a terribly specific question for you Umber, so sorry-" Swoop interrupted hastily. "-I was just wondering what, if anything, you knew about morrowgrain..." She trailed off as Umber stared at her suspiciously.

"You know it's awfully funny you should come here and ask that, it really is, there was a druid here earlier, I was so happy because hardly anybody ever visits you see, nobody cares what old Umber is up to, it's alwa-"

"-he was?! Er, I mean there was a druid here? How...interesting. They were asking about morrowgrain too?" Swoop attempted not to sound too terribly eager, flipping through a tome casually. Umber nodded, a deep frown on his face.

"He was terribly rude, yes he was, terribly rude indeed, didn't want to talk to me or tell me what he was doing with that scroll, that really was an awfully old scroll I should've liked to have given it a closer look but he turned into a bear, and he growled at me, he growled and threatened me, I, who've never laid a hand on anyone else in my life, and I'm certainly not a thief, no, not Umber, but honestly you make the mistake of picking something out of someone's hands once and they go all bear, and they growl most menacingly and then they _threaten_ you..." Umber prattled on indignantly and Swoop waited, as she had waited with Chetter earlier, for the ramblings to end - however, three minutes later and unlike the rogue this man was showing no signs of tiring.

Swoop raised an eyebrow.††

With a careful shift of her weight, she stared at Umber until he trailed off, glancing at her and fidgeting nervously. "I...uh...oh. Oh dear. I suppose you want to know about that scroll too." At her nod, he looked even more crestfallen. "I'm sorry, really I am, but I sent him...well I sent him to someone who could translate it."

She blinked, forgetting all attempts to be subtle. "But it was in demonic." At the little man's nervous bob of his head, she frowned. "...Umber...what...did you do?"

"N-nothing! Nothing at all I assure you old Umber wouldn't do ANYTHING, I merely sent him to someone who could er...translate it, Lorax you see, up in Winterspring-"

"You sent him to a DEMON?!"

"...well it was in demonic, what else was I supposed to do? _I_ certainly can't read the stuff, and besides..." The little man flapped his hands vaguely, a hangdog expression on his face, "...it's not terribly likely he'll follow through on his threats now is it, nasty bear-"

Swoop glared at him, an action that caused him to let forth a sharp shriek and duck behind the nearest stack of books, trembling and whimpering. Whirling, she stomped off, her words carrying over her shoulder, "-if _anything_ has happened to that scroll I will be back. And you won't like it."

_S$&t._ There wasn't really a choice, she was in too far to let it go. And besides, she had a score to settle with that druid and a scroll to steal back. And so she set off for Winterspring, thinking to herself, were Umber's words true, that it was entirely likely that said druid was having a day that was worse than her own, a thought which cheered her marginally.

----

The druid was having a _very_ bad day.††† He squirmed, straining against the ropes that held him to the rock and wincing as the action caused the wounds in his chest and stomach to bleed just a little bit more painfully then they had been previously. Perhaps he shouldn't have been quite so overzealous with the strange little man in Moonglade, but his prattle was irritating and the druid was eager to get the scroll translated and see what exactly it said before he got the thing back to the Arch Druid.

Squirming once more against the ties, he sighed in resignation. At this point it was highly unlikely he'd get back at all, scroll in possession or not, as he was in the rather annoying position of helplessly bleeding to death.

A familiarly reedy giggle caught his attention, and he whipped his head to the side, banging an ear on the rock sharply and craning his neck to see the little undead priest, her armor glowing visibly even in the light of day. She crept up to him, patting him gently and frowning at his wounds, and of course looking for that thrice-dratted scroll. When nothing was found, she frowned and patted him again not-quite so gently, causing him to yelp in protest.

"Hey hey HEY! It's not there! I swear it's not there!" The priest tilted her head, staring at him curiously as she tried to decipher his language.

Her expression changed dramatically when Lorax breathed down her neck. It was interesting, the druid pondered from his rather helpless position, how snow was so magnificent at muffling footsteps.

He watched the priest whirl, Lorax raising the knife that he'd used just recently.

_Well,_ the druid thought, _this should be entertaining._

--------------------

† - Given the opportunity, he undoubtedly would.

†† - Uhoh.

††† - Which was only to be expected.


	7. Chapter 7: In which a tablet is found

7.

**_"AMIR GUL XI AZRATHUD, KARKUN!"†_**

The demon's voice boomed over the snowscape, causing the very trees to tremble as he held the dagger over her. The druid watched with the keen interest of someone who hasn't really got much better to do what with being tied to a gigantic rock and bleeding and all. The priest, to her credit, didn't panic, whirling on her attacker.

And then the daylight seemed to dim as an explosion of golden sparks flew from her, causing the demon to roar in confusion and claw at its eyes. The priest took the moment of distraction to scrabble nimbly over the snow and away from her demonic attacker. Odd, the druid thought, that was a particularly cowardly action to take. Although given his current predicament, he couldn't exactly blame her. But the priest wasn't finished - once in a much more open area that didn't involve being pinned between a rock and a very angry demon, she moved again, spells flying from her fingertips.

The demon, to HIS credit, didn't seem particularly phased by the barrage of attacks and merely ran towards her again, dagger slashing out to tear at one delicate sleeve of her gown. She ducked, rolling out of the way, the demon stumbling forward, and slid a foot out to trip him, but he was smarter than that and merely stepped over her ankle, grinning maliciously.

Which is precisely the moment she rolled again, lining herself up behind him and with all of her might launched herself at his back, giving him a shove that barely moved him forward. Laughing, he took another step to steady himself - and blinked in surprise at the sudden lack of footing. Howling furiously, he plummeted off the side of the cliffs into the chasm of Frostwhisper Gorge.

---

Swoop drew herself to her hands and knees, crawling over the snow and peering over the edge. She highly doubted the fall would kill Lorax - he'd be back soon enough, and he'd be very, very angry. Panting, she rose to her feet, a soft expletive flying from her lips as she examined the sleeve of her gown. That'd be expensive to repair. Grumbling, she made her way past the druid on the rock, glancing around furtively. No scroll...dear gods, it would be her luck that Lorax was carrying the dratted thing ON him...

But just as she was about ready to give up, she found the thing stowed neatly away in a crevice in one of the ruined walls of the demon's home. Sighing in relief, she grabbed it, tucking it safely away in one of her bags and strode off.

She stopped short at the druid's soft groan. Turning, she saw him craning his neck to watch her, eyes glowing dimly with defeat. His wounds were somewhat severe - Lorax had really done a number on him, carving several intricate runes into his flesh and leaving him on the rock. More than likely to sacrifice to some strange god or another later.†† He muttered something at her as she crept closer to him, eyes pleading with her.

Well...he _HAD_ been a worthy opponent after all, and it wouldn't be fair to just let him sit there and die...Swoop frowned again, then with an irritated sigh drew her dagger. The druid's eyes flew open and he weakly struggled against the bonds that held him fast to the rock, until the priest cut the first set of ropes, yanking them away and hacking at another set.

The last of the ropes fell to the snow and the priest tucked her dagger back into her belt, shaking her head and wondering what had come over her.††† She made a faint shooing motion at the druid and turned to leave, but her departure was delayed once more by the druid's frantic babbling. Great.

Pointing emphatically at the canyon and making several growling noises, Swoop attempted to make it clear to the druid that they were working on very limited time and needed to be going post-haste, but she paused in her actions as the druid waved his hands again frantically, healing himself a bit with a soft green glow, getting on his feet and stumbling his way over to the ruins.

Curiosity piqued, she followed him over to the rocks and ruins of the demon's home, where he was pointing at a small tablet and babbling in that fruity elven language again. He pointed at her bags, making scroll-reading motions, then growled and pointed at the canyon, then gestured again at the tablet, picking it up and making a show of reading it.

"Wait...Lorax was talking about this? And the scroll?" It was blatantly obvious the druid had no idea what she was speaking about, but he nodded vigorously anyway. However, when she held her hands out for the tablet, he grimly shook his head, waggling a finger at her and clutching the tablet to his chest.

This was going to be considerably more complicated than she had previously thought. Making a mental note to go do something emasculating to Jes'rimon later for her troubles, she sighed again. "Well then...come on. I've no bloody idea what you're trying to say but at the very least we need to get out of _here_." Pointing over the in the general direction of the road, she whistled for Stanley, who hissed disapprovingly at the night elf and gave a startled yeep of dismay when Swoop batted him firmly on the nose. "He's okay. For now. And if he tries anything, you can eat him." Mollified, the raptor let her up, and she held a hand to the druid, who blinked nervously and shifted his feet in the snow. With a frown of irritation, she waved her hand at him impatiently, and he hesitantly took it, groaning softly with pain as he lifted himself astride the raptor behind her. Still clutching the tablet with one hand, his other grasped her waist in surprise as Stanley took off over the hills for the road.

Grimacing and sitting rigidly in the saddle, Swoop made a mental note to take a very, very long bath later, preferably one involving plenty of violent scrubbing.

----------------------------

† - The demonic language is oft tricky and difficult to transcribe, as certain words and phrases reference items and objects not found in the mortal tongue. The closest approximation to what could be considered a literal translation of this speech would be, _"Maggot of Mortality, Begone hence from the tremors of my foul domain, great pit of darkness which it is, or Xi the Truculent Himself shall strike you in all His Might, your bones shall bleed the very marrow from them, your eyes shall melt in their insignificant sockets as you cannot imagine the glory of Xi the Most Acrimonious and Foul, may He take your breath and twist it from your lungs until you spasm and decay like the sack of mortality you are!"_

Or in a much more loose interpretation, "Git offa mah lawn".

†† - In fact, the demon had been planning on sacrificing him to Snug'li, lower demigod of Bearskin Rugs and Cozy Fires. Winterspring was kinda cold after all.

††† - The truth was simply that she always was a sucker for dumb animals.


	8. Chapter 8: In which Stanley finds snacks

_Oh, author's notes, how fun! Actually, more of a Q&A as it were. So here we go:_

_**Uruquiel2**: Indeed, night elf males are so buff as to be grotesque. As far as Fandral, he is quite a bit more complex than I'd given him credit for. As for feral vs. resto - well, before I played a priest to 60, I played a druid to 60. Pre-druid-patch. It was painful. I'm glad that it's harder to decide which is better, now._

_**Cam**: Swoop, the priest that I play, is normally 31/20/0, however I have decided to play with shadow for the moment. I kind of miss Holy Nova though. The druid is pretty much what my old druid was, a feral/resto combination build. The trees have changed so much since I played mine that I have no idea what to do with her anymore, so she remains unplayed._

_**Kyn**: Here is another chapter. See, sometimes being demanding works!_

_And now, on with the show:_

------------------------------------------------------

8.

Umber wasn't a terribly strong man, nor was he a brave man. Being devoted to learning and studies didn't really leave him with any time left over for say...battle prowess. Or courage in general, for that matter. Thus it was with much gulping in dismay and trembling that he noted the return of not only the little priest that had glared at him so, but the druid who had threatened him as well, and neither of them looked particularly _happy_.

"Umber. You speak that elf language right?" The priest didn't even bother to say hello, Umber noted with a certain kind of dismayed yet indignant timidity.† Nobody really ever bothered to say hello to him, or noticed him at all for that matter - but that really wasn't the point at the moment as the priest was glaring at him expectantly, and the druid's gaze was far from friendly as well.

It was then that Umber noted the priest's raptor snuffling amongst the bushes. The beast turned and peered at him too. Oh, today was not a good day.

"Darnassian? Why yes, I speak it. As well as Common, some Trollish although it's a little rusty but my Taurahe is top-notch and my Gutterspeak and Orcish are also fairly fluent, my Gnomish could use some work I'm afraid, I didn't spend a lot of time learning that one as it's very rare, yes very rare you see, that we see gnomes around here, an-"

The little priest interrupted him. Why, he lamented, did no one ever let him finish a sentence?

"-look I really don't care about the other languages. But I need you to translate what the hairball over here is saying." She made an irritated wave of her hand at the druid, who glanced at her, and then at Umber before he spoke.

"What did she say? Can you understand her?"

Umber dutifully did as he was told. "He asked me if I can understand you."

The priest sighed. "...that isn't what I had i-look, just ask him what that tablet is for."

It was then that Umber noticed the tablet the druid was carrying. It looked old, very old indeed, and very interesting and Umber loved interesting things so _very_ much. The druid caught him eyeballing the tablet and snarled.

Umber was very quickly developing a headache. He turned to the druid. "She...would like to know what that tablet is for."

The druid shook his head. "I don't know. I know that demon you sent me to was very excited to see that scroll and started comparing it and the tablet. But I don't know what it said." The druid paused. "...this was, of course, right before_ he tied me to a rock and tried to kill me._"

Umber gulped nervously. He hated confrontations, he really did. He relayed the message to the priest, who looked even MORE irritated. "Then can you translate it? I haven't got all day."

"I...er...I think that druid is disinclined to acquiesce to that request."††

The priest stared at the druid, who shifted uncomfortably. "What...er...what does she want?"

"She wants me to try and read that tablet."

"...right. Of course. Here - don't let her have it." Umber nodded agreeably, eagerly taking the tablet in hand and carefully scanning its surface while muttering to himself.

"Oh! Oh my. Well this, this is very interesting."

The druid perked up. "You can read it?"

"Oh yes. It's written in a rather primitive dialect used by...centaur, it looks like."

The priest snapped at Umber. "What does it say?"

He relayed the information, causing the druid to yelp indignantly. "Don't tell HER what it says, it's MINE!"

The headache Umber had been dutifully developing was growing much, much worse. "I...my apologies." Somewhat mollified, the druid gestured at him to continue with his reading.

"Oh my. This is terribly interesting. It speaks of a scroll, I'm assuming that one you had earlier-" He glanced up at the druid who had turned his glare to the priest. Obviously there was something more complex going on here, and Umber was relatively certain that he wanted absolutely nothing to do with it whatsoever. "-yes, er, it references that scroll - it seems to be directions for a translation? Or perhaps to the one who wrote it."

"And?" the druid urged. From the general vicinity of the shrubbery there was a delighted squawk and the startled shriek of some unfortunate small creature that the raptor had apparently found.

With a nervous glance in the direction of the raptor, Umber continued. "And...well it speaks of a stone, some sort of...it looks like some sort of summoning ceremony - in Azshara."

With a sigh, the druid rolled his eyes. "Of course it'd be Azshara. I'm so terribly looking forward to going back there again."

Umber cleared his throat delicately. This was going to take some finesse. "It's...well, technically not Azshara."

The druid stared at him again, apparently oblivious to the loud crunching noises and pleased hootings of the raptor.††† "Y...you see, this is written in the language of the centaur. S..specifically, the dialect used resembles those of the tribes that live in Desolace. It makes mention of your scroll, and the stone, but it says the scroll is...either lost, or guarded, I can't tell."

"It was guarded. The guard was...taken care of." A wicked grin flicked across the druid's face. "Now what do you mean about Desolace?"

"Well...one would assume, from what this tablet says, that the stone in question is located with the centaur that wrote this tablet. How the tablet itself got in the hands of Lorax, I've no idea. But if you want to read the scroll, you have to get the stone, and then there's a section here, it looks like an incantation that you read to summon...something, I'm not sure what? And it reads the scroll? I don't quite follow it, but it does give a location for the summoning."

The priest, during all of this chatter, had grown more and more irritated, her glare boring a hole in Umber's head. Unfortunately this did nothing for the now-pounding headache. "Hey, Umber, what are you telling him? C'mon, what's it say? Spill it." Her words were punctuated by more whuffling and crashing as the raptor continued its explorations.

He gulped, looking at her, and then at the druid, back and forth. "I..er..well...that is..."

"What's she saying?"

"She wants to know what the tablet says."

The druid thought for a moment. "...tell her."

"I...er...are you sure?"

He nodded. "Yes."

Umber dutifully repeated the information, the priest growing quiet as he explained the tablet. She perked up as he wrapped up the explanation. "So wait, I just have to get that rock thing from Desolace and read that tablet thing in Azshara and then I can find out what this bloody scroll says?"

Umber nodded. "That is correct."

"Fine then. I'll just go get the rock."

"Er...you need the tablet for the summoning."

"Then I'll fight him for it."

He paused, the druid looking at him questioningly. "What's she saying?" Umber translated, and the druid glared at the priest. "She can't have it."

"Er...there IS more..." Both figures looked at him attentively, and he translated for both of them. "You...er...you need two people, for the summoning ceremony. It won't work with just one."

"_TWO!?_" Both cried out in unison, then glared at each other. The druid backed down first, staring at the priest and apparently lost in thought.

----

Well, it took two people. The druid pondered this. He was, when all was said and done, an honorable creature at heart, and the priest was a worthwhile opponent. He glanced at Umber. The little man was pale, and looked as though he had a headache. "Umber." The little man looked at him. "Tell her...tell her I will make her a bargain."

Umber spouted some guttural gibberish at the priest, who turned a steadfast, curious gaze on the druid, replying to the man. He spoke again. "She wants to know what kind of bargain you have in mind."

"Tell her we can both go, and find the stone. And perform the summoning, and figure out what that scroll says, since we're both obviously interested in it. And when we are done, and we know what it means - then she and I can fight. Winner takes all. Fair and honorably."

Umber nodded, speaking at the priest again, who listened intently, eyes on the druid. She was silent for a time, then spoke up. "She says all right."

"Tell her we will meet in Desolace, then. I have to get more supplies, I'm sure she has to do the same."

Umber relayed this, and the priest curtseyed delicately in the druid's general direction, nodding, whistling for her raptor and riding off. She stopped for a moment, barking something at Umber who trembled and merely nodded at her. Satisfied, she turned and rode away, leaving Umber and the druid alone.

"Thank you, Umber." The little man bobbed his head graciously. "Oh certainly, I don't mind er...translating, and if you were to come across any other artifacts that you want translated, by all means come and talk to Umber, it's entirely enjoyable for me, pleasure to have been of serv-"

The druid cleared his throat, interrupting the timid man. "-and Umber?"

"Y...yes?"

"If you speak to _anyone_ about this, anyone at all, I will come back for you."

Dismally, Umber nodded, and the druid shifted to catform and left for the gryphon master.

----

Swoop pondered. It took two people, eh? Well she supposed she could always kill the druid and find Chetter, he already knew the situation anywa-oh dear, the druid was chattering again. Umber nodded, turning to speak to her. "He says he will make you a bargain."

She narrowed her eyes at the druid. Curious. "What does he have in mind?"

The druid and Umber exchanged words again, and Umber relayed the information to Swoop. Fair and honorably, eh? Well...the orcs had taught her much of honor, in her time in Durotar and during her training. And the druid _was_ a worthy opponent, she had to grudgingly admit. And he wanted to know what it said as much as she did - and if anything went wrong, she could always pin the blame on him. "Done. Tell him I agree. I can kick his fuzzy ass anytime anyway."

Umber relayed this, and the druid spoke once more. "He says to meet him in Desolace, he has to get more supplies."

She nodded, favoring the druid with a curtsey before whistling for Stanley. She started to ride away, then paused. "Oh, and Umber? If you tell anyone, and I mean _anyone_ about this, I will come back here and let Stanley have his way with _you_."

The little man nodded at her, trembling, and she rode off in the general direction of the wyvern master.

----

Late that evening, Umber puttered with his books, rearranging them chronologically on a whim. The night air was cool and the light of the moon and stars provided enough of a glow for him to see by. Humming to himself, he flipped through a text on ancient rituals, inhaling the pleasant musky odor of decaying pages, then frowned. Flipping back a few pages, he read carefully.

"Oh. Oh dear."

-----------------------------------

† - This was, in fact, how Umber noted _everything_.

†† - Interestingly enough, Umber would more than likely have not only known where the rum had gone, but catalogued it by year released and then alphabetically by brand name. It never, however, would have occurred to him to simply drink it.

††† - Silly raptor. Rabbits are for tricks.


	9. Chapter 9: In which things look fishy

"GIVE IT UP ALREADY KEEBIS!" Bovia yowled, switching back to bearform to swat at him mercilessly. Keebis merely grunted, innervating himself and shifting back to bearform to swat back at her. The crowd outside had grown in number, a few even making makeshift cots from which to alternatively nap and watch the ongoing duel. Swoop rode by, blinking, and turned to call out at the druids. "...you guys aren't done yet?"

"Nah," a voice said from behind her, "They've been going nonstop. It was close a few times though." Swoop turned to find Orso, a fellow priest and guildmate, sitting behind her and watching the duel intently.

"How long have you been here?"

"I dunno, a day or so?" He shifted uncomfortably on the rocks. "I keep getting up to go, but then it gets really really close so I stay to watch them end it, and then it just...drags...I mean he'll innervate, then she will, back and forth, it's...it's just nuts." He raised an eyebrow at her. "Where're you off to in such a hurry anyway?"

"Official horde business. I'm on an errand for Vol'jin."

"Oh hey! Yeah. He's been asking about you. You should go see him." Orso peered at her curiously, then glanced back at the fight with an intake of breath. "Holy cow I think she's done it..."

Swoop said her good-byes to the distracted priest and rode into Orgrimmar, the loud groans and cries of disappointment as Keebis managed another heal following close behind.

----------

Vol'jin was apparently expecting her, as she entered his chambers to find him waiting, staring at the door and beaming with delight as she strode in. A cursory glance of her person led to his features falling as he realized she did not in fact have the scroll on her.

"'ey dere m'eetle friend. Where's dat scroll I been waitin' for?"

Swoop sighed and assumed a reluctant expression. "It's...a druid got it." Vol'jin's eyes widened at this. "Dat's no good, dat's no good at all-" She waved her hand at him, interrupting his litany. "It's okay. I know where he went, and it's not to go hand the thing over to anyone. I'll get it back for you, don't worry. I just needed some supplies."

The troll regarded her cautiously. "...you will be gettin dat back den? It's...very important. And we be needin' it soon, very very soon."

She raised an eyebrow. "I wasn't aware there were time limits on the retrieval of this thing, Vol'jin."

"It's important, very very important dat we get dat ting back 'ere by de end of da week Swoop." His eyes bore into her own glowing orbs. Unsettling, really. "In time for da ceremony."

"What ceremony?"

Vol'jin waved his hand in an echo of her previous gesture. "Told ya, you can't be askin' questions, we just need dat back. Now go get it, and hurry - can't be lettin da ting get taken by a druid of all tings. It's an embarrassment."

The priest nodded, feeling slightly guilty for her deception, and left.

Had she seen Vol'jin's growing smirk as she left, she probably would have felt a bit better about things.†

-----------

Desolace was aptly named, as it was keenly absent of vegetation, the fauna therein being much tougher than the normal critters scattered across Azeroth. There were, however, areas where life was cultivated, and there were towns where life went on day to day, despite the despairing surroundings. One of these places was Shadowprey Village, a small coastal town in the south populated by trolls, and it was this at this village that Swoop finally arrived.

"Jinar'Zillen."††

Jinar'Zillen was a fisherman, quiet and friendly and content to stay in his village and generally not seeking anything in the realm of trouble whatsoever. He glanced up to see the priest and sighed inwardly. This was not apt to be a good day.

"'ey dere priest. Been a long time, ya?"

Swoop nodded, smiling politely. She'd learned a trick or two about fishing from the troll during her training. She's also noted that for an innocent fisherman he seemed to know quite a bit of valuable information.††† "Very long. I...have a question for you actually, I'm here on business."

"Ah. I taught you might. Not very often we get visitors 'ere. What ya need?"

"I'm looking for a stone. I think one of the tribes of centaurs out here have it. Not sure which one though...you heard anything about a funny stone around here?"

Jinar'Zillen went very, very quiet and stared at her pointedly. She shuffled her feet and waited for an answer, the silence stretching thinner and thinner until at last he spoke.

"Ya. I...tink I know what you be after, priest. But...if yer after what I tink you are, dat's probably not such a good idea."

"It's...important business. Official horde business, Jinar'Zillen. I was sent by Vol'jin himself." Swoop blatantly lied through her teeth, but the lie had an unusual effect. The troll's eyes widened and glimmered as he nodded eagerly.

"OHHHH...DAT stone. Ya, I know what yer talkin 'bout NOW - ting is, de centaurs, dey been fightin' over dat ting for ages and ages, I don't know which of dem has it now. Yer gonna have to check all de tribes for dat ting. Sorry bout dat."

Swoop sighed. "That's okay Jinar'Zillen. At least I know it's HERE somewhere, anyway. Thank you for the information." Whistling for Stanley, she took off to locate the erstwhile druid, leaving an unusually merry looking fisherman behind her.

-------------------------------------------------

† - Or at the very least wondered if she had something unsavory stuck to her person like toilet paper, or a gnome.

†† - A cousin to the polite cough is the 'quiet stating of a name as a means to get attention'. Most polite murderers don't generally know the name of their victims, so one can be relatively reassured that death isn't in the cards, but the uttering of your name is usually an indicator that the utterer has some news that is more than likely 'bad'.††††

†††- Most innocent characters that quietly go about their business are usually quietly going about their business to better hear all the unsavory things that are going on around them and note them for future reference or, in some cases, blackmail.

†††† - Try to imagine all life as you know it stopping instantaneously and every molecule in your body exploding at the speed of light.


	10. Chapter 10: In which a stone is aquired

10.

The druid and the priest sat at one of many dusty crossroads in the middle of forlorn and dreary Desolace, at a loss for words. They had met up near Nigel's Point, Swoop riding just near the bottom of the area and bellowing politely until the druid had shown up, scampering out in catform and looking heartily embarrassed, avoiding all guards in order to avoid being associated with the dainty† creature before him. All day was then spent going from centaur camp to centaur camp, an endless cycle of killing and searching - the priest had made it known via a complicated series of hand gestures that the item they were seeking was in one of these villages, but after nearly six hours of senseless centaur slaughter††, he was ready to throw in the towel, and it seemed as though she was beginning to feel the same way. Settling back on his haunches he peered at her as she perched on a rock, chin in her hands, staring desolately off into the distance with what could pass for a worried expression on her face.

"...so should we just give up then?" He uttered to nobody in particular, the priest glancing at him with irritation and a complete lack of understanding. Lovely.

With a great snort of air, he flopped to his side, head on paws, and stared mindlessly off the same direction as the priest. She'd come up with something eventually, he was certain.

----

Swoop frowned in irritation at the druid, who was just as annoyingly talkative in catform as he was in elven, and just as annoyingly incomprehensible as well. He'd interrupted her train of thought, not that it was going anywhere in particular at that moment anyway, but still.

Vol'jin was unlikely to be very happy with her, should she delay the inevitable return of the scroll any further, but dammit she had to know what the thing said. Curiosity was one of her worst suits, even when alive from the dim memories she had of it. But there was something..important about this thing, bigger than her, bigger than the druid, and it had to be figured out before she simply handed the scroll over.

However, the fates seemed to be against her at this point, for none of the centaur camps they had destroyed held any trace of the stone they were searching for. Grimly she wondered if Jinar'Zillen had been putting her on and pondered suitable reward for such activities when the druid suddenly leapt to his feet and stealthed, eyes wide. She blinked at the druid, glancing at whatever he was so alarmed about, and shrugged as she watched the Champion of the Horde, Rexxar himself stroll down the dusty trail and come to a stop.

"Hey there priest."

"Hey Rexxar."

"How's it going?"

"Bad." Swoop frowned.

"Why bad?" Rexxar looked genuinely concerned, which she appreciated. His bear Misha on the other hand had spotted the stealthed druid, lumbering over to him and sniffing him with interest while he froze in terror. Misha was, after all, a very BIG bear.

"I'm looking for a stone that's supposedly being held by one of these damned centaur tribes but I haven't seen hide nor hair of it-" Swoop ignored the yelp of dismay as Misha gave the druid an affectionate face-wash, holding him down with a paw as she bathed him- "And I've looked in every camp in the area, Rexxar. I just don't understand, it has to be here somewhere, I was told it was here somewhere, but I will be damned if I can find th-"

"-now hold on a minute there. You're lookin' for a rock?" At the priest's nod, he pulled a red stone from his pack, holding it up with a smile. "Is this it? Found it on a marauder that decided he wanted to tangle with Misha."

Eyes wide, Swoop nodded. It HAD to be the stone they were searching for, it was engraved with a sigil that matched the tablet the druid had been carrying. Rexxar handed it over, clapping her on the back and nearly knocking her over in the process. "There now see? That wasn't so hard, was it?"

She could do nothing but nod again, hastily getting to her feet and whistling for Stanley, then glancing at the still-frozen druid who had yet to escape Misha's loving clutches. "Oh come ON, no time for fooling around hairball." He gaped wide-eyed at her and she waved the stone in his general direction, causing him to renew his squirming. Rexxar laughed, never questioning the unlikely pair or the possible uses of the stone he had just handed over, and called Misha to him, the bear slinking away reluctantly.

As the two travelers went on there way, he waved, then continued his never-ending patrol of Desolace, disappearing into the dust storms and sand.†††

-----

The druid had never so keenly wanted a bath in his entire life, but there was little time for such things as the priest had as expected produced the stone they were in search of, although her sources were a little..unorthodox to say the very least. Still, he wasn't one to complain as his curiosity was very close to being sated, and he loped after the priest, coming to an abrupt halt when she did. Her glowing eyes measured him silently and then she barked more of her strange language at him. He shook his head, trying to convey his lack of understanding, and she gibbered at him again, pointing to him, gesturing towards Nigel's Point, and then pointing emphatically in the direction of Azshara. Ah, she wanted to meet him there. Only fair, as he had to go fetch the tablet from his stores anyway. He nodded his agreement, scrabbling off towards Nigel's Point as she turned the raptor round and rode off, presumably to find her own way to the same area.

His heart sang with excitement as he raced up the steep incline of the peak. Soon, he'd know why the druid wanted that scroll, soon he'd know what it had to do with the mysterious morrowgrain, soon he'd be able to decide whether to return the scroll, or simply keep it for himself...he slowed to a halt, considering. Soon he'd have to fight that priest and win, else he'd have nothing to show for his efforts. Pity, really. He was growing quite fond of her. But he still had several tricks up his sleeve that would guarantee a win for him, when the time came...

...and with that, he prepared himself and the tablet, and took a flight to the glimmering forests of Azshara, where it had all began.

-------------------------------------

† - Dainty, bony, same difference.

†† - And annoyingly abominable alliteration

††† - And far, far away from anyone trying to complete their Onyxia talisman.

-----

_A thank you to those that have read and reviewed so far - one chapter left to go, I'll put it up in the next day or so! _


	11. Chapter 11: In which all good things

11.

Swoop waited somewhat impatiently and at a safe distance from the alliance flight point in Azshara, warily staring at the hippogryphs. It had been well over an hour since she'd left Desolace, the stone and the scroll both safely tucked away. What on earth was keeping that druid? As her thoughts grew slightly more murderous, a lone hippogryph flew into the area and landed, the druid sliding off of it and glancing around. He spotted her and trotted over to the road, tablet clutched safely in his hands.

It occurred to her at that point that she hadn't any clue whatsoever as to where exactly this summoning was supposed to take place. As the two of them rode off in the general direction of the coast, autumn leaves gently falling around them, she pondered silently, the druid padding along quietly behind her. A beach, a particular beach, the place was full of beaches...it was at that moment that Swoop felt the stone in her pack, through her pack actually as it appeared to be getting warmer. Pulling Stanley to a halt, the druid babbling something behind her in that curiously effeminate language of his,† she yanked the stone from her pack. It was...glowing, brighter than before. Curious.

"...all right druid, looks like we get to pay a game of hot and cold." The druid stared up at her, confused, as she adjusted her packs again, stone clutched safely in her palm, and prodded Stanley into movement once more.

The druid followed her over hill and ruins, watching her mutter to herself and stare at the stone, backtracking here, moving forward there, for over an hour they wandered until, finally, they ended their trek at a lone, deserted cove, far to the north of the ruins from which they'd originally taken the scroll. It was here that she halted, sliding off of the raptor and patting his rump, to which he hooted gleefully and went stamping off into the nearby brush.†† She turned then, staring at the druid expectantly.

------

_Ah,_ the druid thought, _this must be the place_. His eyes moved warily over the landscape, taking in the oddly quiet cove. Oddly quiet because there was no sounds, save for the soft hush of the waves lapping at the shore. No birds, no bugs, no...nothing. It was positively eerie and downright unsettling really. The dangers of what they were about to do hadn't really sunk in until this moment, here and now. Was it really worth it, all of this trouble?

The priest coughed delicately, and he nearly jumped at the sound, turning to glare at her, his features softening at her expectant stare. Well, if nothing else he'd met someone who was his match in wits at the very least. Whether or not she would be able to defeat him in honorable battle was yet to be seen...but he knew he'd enjoy the fight. Killing her, on the other hand, would be a pity. Shaking his head, he bowed apologetically, taking the tablet in hand and walking silently to the shore, the priest following behind him, stone glimmering like a bright beacon in her tiny hands.

He cleared his throat and began to read, his voice echoing over the shoreline. This was it.

-----

_"XUL GI XARANTH TA KEL, WARUN T'KUL ZARKATH NA, ANE" - _she watched the druid read, his voice amplified by the rocks of the cove - _"-TAR AKEL WASKA GUL GARAN" _- and as he read the wind picked up around them, the stone glowing brighter and brighter, burning in her palms - _"-ZUA XUL XARANTH TA KEL, KA NE KEZ ARAN, AMESH T'KAR" _- it was like a star, the light and heat almost too painful to bear, for the living, but, she observed from a detached standpoint, not at all a problem for the dead, or undead as it were - _" XUL GI NA ANE TA CALL FORTH TO YOU, FROM THE EBB AND FLOW EMERGE, SHOW YOURSELF TO US-" _Swoop blinked, staring at the druid.

"Hey! I can understand what you're saying now!" From the shocked look on the druid's face, the same applied, and as he paused to say something she snapped at him, "-don't babble at me you idiot, read the damn tablet, if you stop it'll be ruined!"

Whether or not the preceding statement was true could probably have been argued but the druid's eyes snapped back to the tablet and he continued to read, the wind whipping his hair around madly, the din of his voice and the gale and the waves almost to loud to bear-

-and abruptly, it stopped. He looked up from the tablet, peering at her cautiously as she took in the beach which had begun to glow in a most curious fashion, the cove hushed and silent once more. Silent? The waves themselves had stopped moving. Swoop stared at them, but they didn't budge, seemingly frozen.

"I...finished it. That was the end of the tablet..." the druid trailed off uncertainly and the priest glanced up at him, her glowing eyes registering for once, comprehension instead of confusion.

"I can still understand you."

"I can understand you too! But I read the whole thing, it doesn't seem as though it did anything, do you t-" the priest cut him off with a curt wave, pointing emphatically at the waves, or lack thereof. "Look over there, at the water. I...I don't think we're done ye-"

The cove seemed to shimmer, as if the world itself were parting, and out of that nowhere in between this world and next stepped a being of indiscriminant origin, glimmering painfully bright, accompanied by a soft chorus of voices that left forth a soft 'ahh', and then all was still. Stepped? It had no feet, no hands, no eyes...Swoop had no idea what it was, but it didn't appear to be angry.†††

_Hello, young ones of a distant world, what may I do...oh, oh dear. _He, or she, or it, yes it, Swoop firmly decided, didn't seem to be speaking so much as thinking at them. Loudly. It sounded vaguely apologetic. _Apologies, young ones, my appearance is not that of which ones such as yourselves are accustomed to viewing, perhaps I may assume a more pleasing form for you- _With that, the light shimmered and in place of the delicately glowing whatever was a gigantic murloc.

Wonderful.

It opened it's mouth, but instead of speech, the curious thought-voice continued. _I hope this is less upsetting, young ones. _Swoop took a casual glance at the druid, who seemed to have lost his lower jaw somewhere in the sand when he dropped it. Rolling her eyes, she turned back to the murloc, who, despite being a murloc, was almost...pretty, really, its scales shining as brightly as the light-being it was before. _It has been long since I have traveled here, and longer still since one has called me, one has had need of me._

"I uh...I...so..." The druid appeared to have figured out how to close his mouth, and now attempted to speak. Tossing another glance at him, Swoop addressed the murloc.

"How come I can understand what he says now?"

_It is part and parcel of the magic contained here, young one. All who seek knowledge will possess it, all who seek understanding wi-_

"Okay, okay. Look. I know you're all into the impressing the easily awed but seriously we don't really need the show or anything, we're just here on some business so you can cut the shock and awe tactics because it's really not necessary."

The murloc blinked, rolling its eyes as it pondered this new bit of information. The scales dimmed to a much more bearable glow. _Ah. All right then, sorry about that, have to keep up the show for appearances you know._

Swoop nodded. "Oh, sure. Look...we found this scroll thing here, but we can't read it, and well, everything we've found so far has led to you so I'm assuming you can read the thing and tell us what it says?"

The murloc attempted to nod elegantly, reaching one globulous paw out for the scroll, which Swoop handed over. _Oh certainly. _

The murloc cleared its throat, pausing dramatically, then continued.

_Salad of the Ever-Living: Five bushels of the Blood of Kings_

_Three parts of the Oil of Shadow_

_Seventy-six parts Morrowgrain_

_Dash of Deeprock Salt._

_Toss in an appropriate container, ceramic is recommended. May also add Grilled Chimerok Tenderloin for additional proteins. Serve chilled with-_

"-a SALAD?!?!?" Swoop whirled at the explosive outburst from the druid. "You mean I've traveled all over AZEROTH, busting my TAIL so that thrice-damned Arch Druid can have a SNACK?" What followed was a series of expletives that would have made Chetter proud, Swoop thought in passing, as the druid continued to rant and rave, face red with fury. The priest stood quietly, assuming the same tactics as she did with the enraged rogue, and as expected the druid finally stalled out, panting.

"Well," Swoop dryly observed, "That would explain why Vol'jin wanted it for a ceremony. Dinner's ever so much better if one has a suitable appetizer before the first course." The druid simply stared at her. "...oh don't look at me like that, you think I'm not angry? Wouldn't have had to run all over the world if I'd KNOWN, you know, it's not like I'm not upset as wel-"

_Er...pardon me, _the murloc politely interrupted, fins flopping lazily as it gestured to the two of them, _-did you want me to continue? Or perhaps I can jot this down on something, in your language so you can read it without all this frivolity, might make it a bit easier for the both of y... _He trailed off as Swoop turned to the druid, the two of them staring fixedly at each other. The druid gave in first, sighing and shaking his head.

"Take it. I'm not about to give that damned poncy piece of...some other reason to stuff even more fiber down his simpering maw." Defeated, the druid turned away.

"Hey...HEY!" He stopped at her exclamation, her tiny eyes glowing with...was that concern? He couldn't be sure. "Look, I don't want it. Vol'jin can go stuff himself for all I care, and I'm pretty sure he knew what he was sending me on." The glimmer in his eyes, the quiet glee of those she had spoken too...ah, Vol'jin knew was he was doing all right. The question of why remained to be answered, but she was certain she could beat it out of somebody. "You can have it if you want."

_Perhaps I could simply make a copy for the both of you, there are plenty of rocks here for me to put it on, really it's no trouble at all-_

The two ignored the murloc, eyes locked in a silent conversation to which they came to an agreement. _I won't tell if you won't, druid._

_May Elune herself strike me down if I ever mention this to anybody. Ever._

"Agreed?" Swoop said, sticking out a tiny hand.

"Of course." The druid elegantly took her hand in his own, and rather than shaking it, lifted it to his lips, placing a careful kiss on the cool flesh.

The priest got the most curious expression on her face, pulling back her hand as if he'd branded it with fire, and turned to address the murloc, who was waiting somewhat patiently, attempting to twiddle its thumbs with very little luck, the scroll placed carefully on its head.

"Look, we don't want it. Sorry for wasting your time, bud." The murloc blinked, tilting its head to the side in quizzical amazement and catching the scroll as it slid off its head.

_A...are you quite sure? I mean there have been many b-_

The druid interrupted the murloc. "-yes, quite sure. At least you have your recipe back, that's good then, yes? We'll just be on our way. Sorry for the disturbance, have a good..millenia or whatever it is you have where you come from."

The two creatures nodded at each other, one whistling for a raptor that came bounding rapidly into the small cove, a trail of some unfortunate small furry creature dribbling from his jaw,†††† the other shifting to the form of a cat, both waving over their shoulders and riding out of the cove.

The murloc shifted his feet, blinking uncertainly and staring at the scroll, then gave a great shrug, hoisting one limb into the air and hurling said scroll far, far away, placing a hand over its eyes to watch it disappear in a glorious arc that would surely send it all the way to the Eastern Kingdoms, if not farther.

_Well I guess that's that then, I'll uh, be going now,_ the murloc said to nobody in particular, and with a small chorus of voices disappeared, leaving nothing behind but the sand, the waves, and a red stone lying discarded, glimmering softly on the gentle sand.

-----

_And really, it wasn't a wasted trip after all, was it now, _the druid thought as he raced over the countryside, _For I've learned that my enemy isn't always my enemy, and that cooperation can have unexpected and pleasant results, and that sometimes friends can be found in the most unexpected places-_

_-I am going to have to take seven layers of skin off of my hand before I feel clean again, _the priest thought, trundling towards the gates of Orgrimmar and distractedly wiping said hand on the skirts of her gown, _...make that ten._

"I WIN!" Bovia shouted, the final cast of moonfire finally causing Keebis to fall, exhausted onto the dusty roads of Durotar in defeat, and proving that it didn't really matter whether a druid was resto or feral, what really counted was who could spam the most moonfire.

And also that druid vs. druid duels were quite possibly the most boring yet entertaining things to witness ever, as evidenced by the large crowd of people that stood, blinking blearily, and got on with their lives.

_-fin- _

-----------------

† - It really doesn't matter if a night elf is saying they think flowers are pretty or if they're making disparaging remarks about your mother, they still sound like girls.

†† - The local fauna put out an alert the moment he stepped off the beach.

††† - Glowing ethereal light-beings never look angry. Most of the time, they simply look mildly constipated.

†††† - Poor Sammy the Squirrel was already deaf and missing two limbs. He is, undoubtedly, in a better place now.


	12. Chapter 12: Epilogue

_...you didn't REALLY think I was just going to leave it there, did you? _

_ ---------------_

_Epilogue_

"AND YA FELL FOR IT TOO!" Vol'jin gasped between gales of uproarious laughter, clapping one hand gleefully against his leg, the other hand waggling a triumphant finger at the short, wiry, and decidedly irritated priest standing before him. "AH...hahaha...I can't believe ya went to all dat trubble leetle priest, ah really can't..." His voice trailed off as he broke into another fit of glee.

"...right. You got me. How very clever of you." The look on Swoop's face did anything but indicate cleverness on Vol'jin's part, but he wasn't paying attention at that point. She shifted her feet, crossing her arms and waiting for him to calm down. "The question I have, O wise leader, is why precisely you felt it necessary to send me on that kind of a goose-chase?"

Wiping tears of amusement from his eyes, Vol'jin merely shook his head. "Ah, t'wasn't mah ideah, priest. Jes'rimon, 'e said you were bored, in need of a leetle excitement, e's the one dat suggested it in dah first place-" The priest's expression changed from glowering to out-and-out murderous, and she was startled out of her reverie by Vol'jin's hand, patting her reassuringly on the shoulder, his voice gentle now. "Ah, priest. Don't be holdin' it against him. Ya are as good as kin to de Darkspeah anyway, 'ave been for a long time, longah than I probably know. 'e gave me an ideah of 'ow long though. Ya don't tink we'd be playin' tricks on ya if we didn't trust ya, do ya?"

Swoop glanced up at him, startled, and the leader of the Darkspear smiled then, and his smile was kind. "Tink of it dis way. Da cubs, dey only play pranks when dey really like each other. Same with any children, any tribe. Wasn't meant ta hurt yah, Swoop. Yer one of us, in yer own way." She nodded slowly in agreement and Vol'jin stood, turning back to the table of documents, maps and duties at his side. "Now den, priest. Go on, outta heah - I got plenty o' tings to be takin' care of. You be well."

The priest curtseyed, low and respectful, and walked out of the great building that housed two of the more honorable Horde leaders, contemplating that last bit of information, and as she walked, deep in thought, a slow smile crossed her features and she fairly skipped her way back to the main thoroughfare.

----

The deep and altogether loud and obnoxious snoring of a troll fast asleep broke the otherwise still air of the Drag, rhythmic and slow. A troll, fast asleep on a hammock high above the rest of the activity below, grinned in his sleep.

The yelp of his awakening was muffled however by a cool hand over his mouth and a surprisingly strong, if bony, body pinned him awkwardly to the now-swaying hammock, his eyes wide with terror, adjusting to the dimness and attempting to identify his attacker-

-and his body relaxed as he took in the form of the small priest, glowing eyes boring into his own, steadily.

"I suggest you keep quiet, Jes'rimon, unless you'd like half of Orgrimmar to discover you here."

She uncovered his mouth and was treated with a very lazy and very wicked grin. "Ah, you be back den? And was your journey as interestin' as de one dat brought you here, priest?" His grin faded as she pressed a dagger to his throat. "Dat's not very nice, priest..."

"Neither is sending me on a wild goosechase after a scrap of parchment that has no useful purpose whatsoever..." She purred quietly. "...now how about you tell Swoop why exactly you sent her after it, before something unpleasant happens."

His eyes widened further still. "Dah scroll? Ya mean ya got it? Give it to me, I'll take it ta Vol'jin maself, don't worry ah'll tell him ya were da one dat found i-" The pressure on his throat caused him to squeak in dismay, and then the priest sat back on top of him, pulling the dagger away and contemplating this information.

"Now see, Jes, this is where I'm confused. I already went to Vol'jin, and he said it was all a joke anyway - so obviously this scroll wasn't all that important. So how come YOU are so intent on having it in your greedy little hands?" The troll shook his head wildly, stuttering out excuses, and Swoop carefully placed one finger over his lips. "It doesn't matter, Jes. The scroll is gone."

"GONE?!" he gasped. "No, ya can't 'ave...gone where?!"

She shook her head. "It doesn't really matter does it? It was just a joke, right?" One eyebrow raised cautiously, and the troll heaved a sigh of defeat.

"Dat ting...dat ting could've fetched a very hefty amount o'coin, priest." He swallowed. "Very, _very_ hefty."

Abruptly, the priest swung off of him, striding towards the ramp leading back into the Drag. "Doesn't matter, Jes. The scroll is gone. I can guarantee you, personally, that nobody's ever going to find it." With that, she left, leaving the troll to cover his eyes in dismay. After a moment, he sat up, staring across the dim lights of the Drag, expressionless.

----

"...gone?"

"Gone. I'm sorry, sir, but the...undead _thing_ destroyed it. Scattered it to the winds. I guess it thought if it couldn't have it, nobody would." The lie fell from his lips naturally.

The Arch Druid's gaze was soft, his voice quiet. "They don't...think. They just act. Mindless, the lot of them."

"Sir?"

Staghelm waved a hand. "It matters little. Begone."

"I...I'm sorry, sir-"

"I said go." The druid stared openly at Staghelm, who was showing absolutely no expression or indeed emotion at all, which was unusual, to say the least. Nodding quietly, he crept out of the Arch Druid's quarters. While the actions of the Arch Druid were curious, he was not curious enough to risk Staghelm's wrath.

And in the quiet of his chambers, Fandral Staghelm stared blankly at one of many, many mirrors, and as he stared, he sighed, and as he sighed, one finger reached out to carefully brush a speck of dust from the glass, and in a voice so low that none could hear, he spoke.

"I'm sorry, Valstann. I've failed you again." His lips barely moved as he whispered the words. "I will have you back. I swear it. Though it takes...millennia..."

----

_Deep underground, beneath the cool night air of Moonglade, hidden safely away in the deepest of the Barrow Dens, a carefully preserved corpse of what was once a young and sturdy night elf lie in wait, never moving, never breathing..._

----

And somewhere far, far away, to the distant north, along a coast long-forgotten by most living in Azeroth, a tattered, aged scroll fell gently to the deserted sands.

Mostly deserted, that was.

A lone murloc pattered along the shoreline, in search of any remaining edible, non-contaminated food with little luck. His bulging eyes took in the scroll's descent, watching it fall to the ground, and he scampered to it, pausing a foot or two away, cocking his head and swaying side to side, considering.

Two moments later, the only thing left was a set of muddy prints, the echoes of wet and hurried footsteps, and what might have been an indentation of something once lying on the sand, slowly being washed away by the lapping waves of the northern oceans.

----

The great one, the Eldest, the wisest of Those That Were Left lay on a bed of soft seaweed, his breathing heavy, his eyes dim with age. One of The Few Left Behind scuttled into the room, bleating a greeting of utmost respect, and held before him a scroll, with trembling, slippery fingers. "Mrrrrgllllmrrrgleaaac!" _- Eldest! I have found something of importance, sent to us from the Gods themselves! It fell from the sky!- _He exclaimed, gulping feverishly with unbridled glee, and the Eldest stirred restlessly, laboriously sitting up, gasping for breath and taking the scroll with wizened, shaking hands. His eyes fairly bulged from their sockets as he took in the language before him, the recipe clearly legible on the deteriorating piece of parchment. He paused, then read again. And again. And after reading it yet another time, finally, he spoke.

"Mmrrgl." _- Take me to them.- _ He intoned, beginning to rise, the young one hurriedly reaching to assist him.

And the two walked through the cavernous tunnels of the Dark Under The Ocean, their footsteps echoing coolly in the dim light, and as they walked, a few others saw, and they followed, and a few more, until at last the Eldest reached his destination, and upon reaching it turned to see all of The Few Left Behind huddled against each other behind him, watching in wary...hope.

The doors were pulled open, and he strode with more energy than he had felt in decades, into the still-silent cavern of Those Who Had Gone.

Chamber after chamber after chamber of bodies, cool and preserved in the depths of their home. Chamber after chamber of _opportunity_.

Eldest nodded, then turned to the hopeful, wondrous eyes of the remnants of his tribe.

"Mrrglemmmmrrrrrgla."

_-Go, Young Ones. Go and bring Eldest this...morrowgrain. Bring it to me, and Those Who Have Gone shall rise and become Those Who Live Again...-_

_----_

_And on the shores of a land that once was glorious, splendid, golden and full of life, on the shores of a land now beaten by the very Scourge that plagued the southern lands long, long ago, the pattering feet of the Grimscale once more sent terror into the hearts of those that beheld them..._

_End_


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