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Authors Notes: Tinkering with this for now. Not sure what to make of it, if anything. For what it's worth, enjoy.
Track One: Bitter Medicine
\1\
She watched the casket go into the ground and never cried. The gravediggers piled on mound after mound of dirt, deep into the black hole of the earth. No tears came even as they planted the wooden stake into the fresh grave. Nico watched it all, impassive as a tree.
The house was a flurry of motion. Women in black garb stood near tables filled with food and drinks. Nico sat on the padded chair in the corner and watched them all. Beside her Calli Hannigan kept droning on about some opportunity she had in Ironforge.
"You wouldn't believe what they pay for engravers." She said. "These rich guys come in with bars of copper and silver." She plucked an olive from her drink and chewed the thing like a cow. "They want their names engraved on it right? Sort of like an epitaph so whoever buys the bar knows the products legit."
Nico watched a small man in a black tunic and pants help himself to a heaping pile of roasted pork.
All these people in my house and I barely know any of them, she thought.
"So like NO ONE ever thinks about taking these jobs right? No one ever thinks about who actually has to engrave this ****." Calli snorted laughter.
My husband just died and you're laughing, Nico thought. Why are you laughing?
"I can make a fortune." Calli said.
Gods kill me now.
"You should come with me. I heard they got the forge back up and running a couple weeks ago." Calli said.
Nico felt herself detach from the conversation another few levels. Brain cells departed in search of more productive transmissions. Nico got up, walked to the back of the house, opened the door to a night sky, found the outhouse, and vomited. Some of it caught in her veil. She leaned back against the wooden door.
What the hell is going on?
She stared at the palms of her hands. All those people back in her house, all those people she didn't know, getting drunk and eating her food. It sounded like a celebration.
David's dead, she thought again. Dead.
The words never sunk in. She didn't cry. The taste of gastric juice flooded her mouth. Nico flattened out her dress and walked back into the house. Jeremy Corbin stopped her, smiling, drunk.
"You know your Mom's really broken up about this." He said.
My Mom? You're kidding right?
She made her way back to the chair in the corner. Anissa Halloran had joined Calli on the bench. Her Mother was a short woman, stocky, farmer stocky, eyes bloodshot from tears.
"David was such a good man." She said.
Just for the record Mom, David was an asshole.
Nico sat down.
"Dear?"
"Huh?" Nico turned to her Mother. "What?"
"You've got vomit on your veil."
Nico closed her eyes and prayed for disaster.
\2\
The emptiness continued on through the next day. Alone in the house it was easier to convince herself that David was just off at the Market. Their bedroom was an eyesore. She'd managed to stay away from it for most of the day. Seeing the bed was the worst. All the nights she'd curled up next to David. The scars on his body. The countless times they'd tried to make a baby in that bed. They had no kids, and no she had no husband.
Just me, she thought. No skills, no husband, nothing.
She couldn't cry. The hallways felt sickly, like they were oozing some kind of pus from between the wooden boards. The whole house was a death trap. Nico dropped down into the same chair she'd sat in yesterday. Silence crept its padded feet into the room. They'd met in Stormwind, David in the same ridiculous armor he wore on their wedding day, dented, the edges dulled to a soft shade of maroon.
Get away from me, she thought.
If you forgot your memories, could they forget you too? Nico didn't know, she hoped that was the case. They had nothing but the house. David worked as a blacksmith. The bank came and foreclosed that the day after his death. Nico signed the papers in the same dull haze she was still in now. How long till the bank came for the house? How long till she was out on the streets doing Gods knew what for money?
The brief notion of simply taking a rope from the shed at the back of the house and hanging herself had occurred. It stayed around for far too long in her opinion. The only downfall to that was she didn't want someone to find her two weeks later. They didn't get visitors, so someone would find her long after the deed was done. Something about that negated the idea entirely.
They'll find me bloated, she thought. Bloated and purple.
She was hardly aware she was spreading the oil and kerosine until she wiped her forehead leaving a thick black streak there. Frowning she washed her hands under the pump out back. Her silver hair spilled over one olive colored shoulder.
David loved my hair...
Miles from conscious thought she stood at the doorway to her house and struck a match. Red flame danced on the end of the wooden splinter. She dropped it. Kerosine and oil caught fire. She watched the blaze shear through the front hall and then up the walls, consuming the drapes like starved tigers. For one awestruck moment she thought she felt tears welling up behind her eyes. The feeling disappeared a second later.
Nico turned from the fire and walked off towards the forest. She wandered for hours. On the horizon she could see the black channel of smoke imprinted against a sea water sky. At dusk she settled herself under a giant tree, exhausted. Sweat rolled off her in waves.
Should have packed some clothes, she thought.
<Just where the hell are you going?>
Dunno...
<Great plan, sweetheart.>
She closed her eyes drifted to a fragmented slumber. Dreams of David invaded her, tore at the bits of blackness she still had access too. David's arms wrapped around her while they were in bed, the smell of his after-shave in the morning. Everything she DIDN'T want to remember.
In her dream she killed David.
\3\
The thing in the trees watched the sleeping woman for some time. He'd seen creatures like her, floaters in a fragmented life. One scaly green hand clawed a nearby branch, black talons digging into the wood, scarring it. He transfered his weight to get a closer look. The woman was human, stripped of fat, silver hair. Not too attractive, but not too ugly by human standards.
Another few days, he thought. Another few days and then we'll see.
The creature, the thing that'd once been an Elf curled up in a nest of branches, stick thin legs crossed. His giant wet black eyes blinked once and then went still. Things were changing, that much he knew. Everyone had seen the light from The Gulch years back. Great wheels had been set in motion. The Gods were maneuvering chess pieces into place to play out a final act of an unwritten comedy. The Creature thought it wasn't so crazy. The signs were there. Deep from the Outlands the Others had come. The plague was long gone, the damage it reaped far more than anyone could have foreseen.
He'd foreseen though. He'd calculated. Fate was no anomaly, just a string of random events that eventually came to one conclusion. High in the branches of the tree The Creature watched and waited. Another few days...time would tell.
And if it does, I guess I'll know for sure, he thought.
\4\
They scented a Dead hound on him back in The Burning Steppes. It caught up with him while he was crossing the mountains into Elwynn Forest. Its fangs dipped in some sort of venom. He spent twenty hours down in the Highlands hallucinating through a rough haze of fever and infection. Crippled and diseased he pulled into Ironforge a week later, the leather bound box slung over his shoulder. The coal fire streets were lit, the presses pounding away.
Sweat soaked into his gray jacket. Dorian slipped into the Dark Steel Tavern shoved in the back of just another dirty alcove near the Forge. The interior of the bar had a run down look too it. Battered wooden stools, scratched so deep from old bar fights that sap had crusted over like scabs.
Dark Steel was a tavern for Fences and Brokers. The bartender, a swarthy skinned dwarf with a jagged scar twisting across his face ran the place with an iron fist. Dorian parked himself at the bar, all too aware of the black bags under his eyes, and more worried about the bit mark on his left torso. A black tracery of tree branch veins had spread from that ****ing bite.
****ing hound, he thought. You had to find me didn't you?
Dorian knew someone was after him. Who that someone was he couldn't quite piece together. His line of business necessitated certain secrecy. By doing so you had to start a list. A list of all the people that had a motive to **** you over. In Dorian's case...the list was long. He'd sold polished bronze bars coated in lacquer to a fence out in The Barrens as gold, that'd come back to him a few years ago.
Riven came up from behind the bar, his sausage fingers pulling out a shot glass and filling it with whiskey. Dorian stared at the thick scar over the dwarfs nose. Rumors floated about how the little bastard managed to get it, the one Dorian leaned towards involved the Shadowed Syndicate and a batch of botched narcotics.
"You look like ****." Riven said.
"Thanks for the notice." Dorian said. He took the whiskey and choked it down. A claw twisted its way deep into his side. He groaned and set the leather bound case on the bar top. "Get that to Harkens."
"What is it?"
"Organs." Dorian said. He fished a sloppy rolled smoke from his jacket and lit it. Smoke dug into his lungs. Behind him a gnome, maybe only twenty, was having a conversation with two humans.
"If I had to learn magic I'd take the gnomes for teachers any day." The gnome said.
Dorian chuckled. The gnomes knew **** about magic. The Elves had forgotten more than the gnomes had ever touched on during their time on Azeroth. To his right Lady Kay sat next to him, dressed in a leather V-neck shirt and pants. Her pointed boots poked his leg.
"Kellog's looking for you." She said.
Who isn't looking for me?
"Says you shafted him on the last batch of organs." Lady Kay said. Her short cut burgundy hair fell across two blue eyes.
"He said livers I got him livers." Dorian said. His hand slid to his side, cupping the bite, trying to massage the flesh there and detesting the rubbery feel.
"He said ELF livers. You got him some knock off troll livers. You can't sell that **** on the market." Lady Kay said.
Lady Kay worked a very special niche in the black-market. Agent of death was the first thing that came to Dorian's mind but he never said it aloud. Kellog only sent out Lady Kay when he wanted someone dead, or near dead. Dorian eyed the door and grimaced. He wouldn't make it, even in top notch condition Lady Kay would drop him like a sack of wet paper.
"Not my problem." Dorian said.
Lady Kay snaked her hand between his legs. "Oh my dear Dorian...I think this is your problem."
"Hey." Riven snatched the leather box from the countertop and dropped it behind the bar. "If you're gonna off him do it outside the bar. I don't want the squids in here."
Thanks, Riven, such words of encouragement.
Lady Kay squeezed. Dorian felt his stomach turn into a molten ball of lead. "Easy." He whispered. "Only got two of those."
"Might not have any when I'm done with you." Lady Kay said. She flashed a ruby red smile.
A hand shot between them, thin, pale skin, and then a woman's body separated them. She flopped onto the bar top. "Riven," burp. "Another round."
"The ****." Lady Kay got up off the stool. "Yo, whore, beat it."
The woman, shaggy black hair cut rough and sheared flashed Lady Kay the bird and then turned back towards Riven. Lady Kay flushed. Dorian suddenly realized he was about to be a witness to a homicide. Kay rushed forward one arm making a perfect arc. The woman on the bar had reflexes like a hawk. Dorian bought the drunk act, every had. She rolled, leather pants squeaking on the floor. Her hands moved in perfect unison, three small daggers braced between the fingers on each hand, all pointed at Kay's exposed belly.
Lady Kay's face melted into something like astonishment mixed with rage. "Oh...that was wrong." She said. "You have no idea-"
"Cut it, *****." The woman said. "Hit the streets."
Dorian slid against the bar feeling faint. His side screamed at him, overloading his nerves. Lady Kay turned and disappeared from the bar. A number patrons stopped drinking. The black haired woman waved her hands, the blades vanished. Dorian tried to follow the motion and couldn't. She walked over, gray eyes scanning him. Her arms wrapped around his neck.
"Mr. Dorian, I do believe you owe me your life." She said.
Riven managed to creep back into the shadows of the bar.
Authors Notes: Ironforge in this story appears much expanded, to the scale of a massive city, as will all the other major cities in Azeroth that come up.
Track Two: The Future Freaks Me Out
\1\
The woman dragged him out of the bar, through the deserted alley's of Ironforge. Dorian tried to map their progress and failed. His mind flew off on a hundred different tangents. Old Miss Priss, dragging him around, had just about fragged Lady Kay. Kellog wouldn't like that. Kellog would have his ass for that.
"Looks like you got some heat on you." The woman said. They turned a blind corner, the stench of soot and burning copper overpowering.
"No thanks to you." Dorian said.
"Chick would have carved you a new ribcage." The woman said. Her black hair flew in her face as she whipped both of them down another passage. They stopped at a wooden door on the right.
"What's your name?" Dorian asked.
"Cherry." She said. From a pocket she pulled out a set of lock picks and popped the latch on the door. "Cherry Berry."
You're kidding me, Dorian thought.
"Please tell me you're joking."
"Nope."
"You a stripper?"
"No...just bad luck of the draw with passports." Cherry said. She pushed the wooden door open to a dank studio room. The stone floor was moist, the ceiling dripped dirty water. "Was the only name they had back in The Barrens, papers were legit. Documents even went through the Darnassus notary."
"Sucks to be you." Dorian said.
Cherry laughed. "Think about the person who actually had the name. I feel bad for HER."
Dorian tried to smile. The edges of his vision had turned a spotty brown color. Cherry dragged him into the room and then shut the door. Darkness engulfed them. He touched the stone walls, feeling the slick surface. The scent of mildew filled his nostrils. Behind him the flare of a candle sparked to life. Cherry set it in the middle of the floor and then sat in the corner, shadows dancing off the rise of her cheekbones. She reached back into her hair and pulled loose a leather thong. Two long gray ears popped up.
"You're an elf." Dorian muttered. He slid to the floor. His side felt like a cage of angry wolves that'd taken to eating each other rather than starving.
Cherry nodded.
"That lady you almost clocked back there, she's going to come looking for me." Dorian said.
"Which is precisely why you need a bodyguard....from the looks of you, you're not in the best of shape right now." Cherry said.
You got that right, sister.
"You a bodyguard?"
"Among other things."
"What happened to your last client?" Dorian asked.
"He died."
"Great PR."
Cherry shrugged. "Not my fault, told the dude not to go to Gadget."
"Lady Kay's real flash." Dorian said. "Don't think you can take her. She's souped up, tough girl."
"Yeah." Cherry smiled, her eyes vibrated. "Cherry's been through the ringer too." She flashed the three blades in each hand again. They vanished a second later.
"How'd you do that?"
"I dated a magician."
"A mage?"
"No, a magician, he did kids parties."
I'm in a world of hurt, Dorian thought. A big fat world of hurt.
\2\
Cherry left the small room and was gone for most of the morning. Dorian rolled into the corner, his side starting to coil into twisted knots of fire. She returned with a tall Elf wearing a white jacket, middle aged.
"Who's that?" Dorian asked.
"A doctor." Cherry said.
"I'm not a doctor." The woman said. "Case, just Case." She had a small black box in her hand carved from some dark forest wood. Cherry lit a few more candles. "What bit you?"
"Dead hound."
"Any idea what kind of poison?"
Dorian peeled off his jacket and shirt. The bite mark was a blasted waste of black tissue. He groaned at the sight.
"****." Case said. She knelt down. "Bring one of those candles over here." The smell of Auberdine tobacco rolled off the woman. "How long ago was this?"
"About a week..." Dorian trailed off, his eyes focused on Cherry. The woman stood in the corner over a large brown sack, pulling out threaded rope.
"A week?" Case grunted. She turned to her black box and opened it. Inside was a caged animal. It had a frogs body, covered in coarse brown fur, a set of gills on both sides of its rubbery mass. She set the caged animal on the floor next to him. From the box she pulled out two glass tubes and then hovered over him. "This is gong to hurt."
"Do it."
Case stuck the two tubes into the upper set of fang marks. Dorian didn't flinch, didn't feel a thing in fact. He looked down at saw the glass tubes an inch into the black flesh.
"Doesn't hurt?" Case asked.
"No."
"That bad?" Cherry leaned in to watch.
"Yeah...means the tissue's gone necrotic." Case said. She set the tubes inside the cage. The fur covered frog thing took the glass into its mouth and started to suck. A strange churning noise came from its gills and then black liquid poured from the slits on its side. "Barnibus here is going to suck out as much poison as he can. Eats the base of the toxin, excretes that black crap he doesn't need through the gills. Sort of like dialysis."
Dorian said nothing. He waited. There was always bad news. He could tell by the look on the middle-aged Elf's face. The worried etches of wrinkles around her eyes.
"Guess there's some bad stuff, too?" Dorian said.
Case went to her box and pulled out a small bottle of white pills. She counted out a dozen and slipped them into a small satchel. "I know someone who can probably get an Ident on this stuff, but my guess..." She glanced at him. "It's a myocardial toxin, spreads via the lymphatic system and central nervous synapses."
"And?" Cherry had one of the daggers out, the point jammed between her teeth.
"Well you're probably going to die." Case said. She got to her feet, hands stuffed into her jacket pockets.
Going to die, Dorian thought, isn't that the story of my life?
"How soon?"
"Dunno." Case shrugged. "If it IS a myocardial toxin, which it might not be, you're looking at six months maybe. It hardens the ventricle walls of your heart, makes it harder to pump blood. When, and if, you get chest pains stick one of those pills under your tongue."
Six months, Dorian thought. Six months for a box of livers. Was it worth it?
A dull rage seeped into his pores.
"Who set the hound on you?" Case asked.
"Dunno...think it might be a fence I know."
Cherry turned. "Flash chick at the bar?"
"Guy she works for, Ke-"
"Bah-bah-bah." Case waved her fingers. "I don't want to know names. Safer for me if I don't."
Dorian turned to Cherry. "Guess I'm going to need that bodyguard you were talking about."
She flashed a wicked smile at him. "Told you so."
\3\
Kellog would be watching the bank. Dorian was sure of it. All his local bank roll was locked up in one of the deposit boxes in the back. He spent seven hours hooked up to the freak frog before Case finally vanished, a vial of the black goo in her carrying case.
"Remember to take the pills when the pain comes on." She said. "You'll die if you don't."
Dying anyways, he thought.
Cherry and Dorian stood in the shadows of an alcove formed by two adjacent shops. He scanned the crowd by the bank, the mass of creatures near the Auction house. Two of them he plucked out right away. A man standing near the postal box, his face placid and bored, his eyes told a different story. A woman stood outside the auction house her head darting back towards the bank every opportunity she got.
"Two." Dorian whispered.
Cherry shook her head. "Three." She pointed towards a small gnome dressed in gray fatigues standing on the catwalk that stretched over the coals below. "He's the look out."
Dorian wrinkled his brow. "How do you know?"
"Trust me. Bank's shot. Know another way to get any cash?" She asked. "My services are contingent on it."
"Yeah...I got a way." Dorian said. He shifted his mind to Abby. Abby would roll the cash for him. "I don't like it, but I've got a way."
"Then lets hump it, cripple." Cherry giggled.
Never ends does it?
\4\
Abby's place was down in the bowels of Ironforge. After the brief desertion of the city twenty years ago the dwarves and gnomes had come back and reestablished a massive construction plan to overhaul the city. Two of the initial plans were put into motion and then scrapped over instability concerns. Abby made his home among the deserted, half constructed, ruins of a place that was never meant to be. Dorian hobbled down the corridor to a set of stairs that lead to a catwalk running deep into solid stone. He clamped a hand over his chest and popped a white pill under his tongue. Cherry slowed behind him.
"Yo, you all right?"
No.
"Yeah." He grimaced. "Just a bit further."
They came to a metal door, a three inch retractable slot visible waist high. Dorian lowered himself to the slot and banged twice. From behind the doors he heard a scramble of movement and then a telescoping lens exposed itself from the wall. Behind him he felt Cherry geared up like a ball of hot nerves wrapped in barb wire.
"Chill." He said.
"Frosty." Cherry said.
I doubt it, you look like you're ready to try and fight a Troll Brigade.
The telescope took them in and then the slot in the door retracted. Two beady eyes stared back. "What?"
Dorian caught the rotten odor of unkept teeth and digested food. He waved a hand in front of his face. "I need to see Abby."
"No Abby here." The eyes said.
"Tell him it's Dorian."
The slot snapped closed.
"That a no?" Cherry asked.
Dorian shrugged. Abby was an old Dwarf, a pissed off bastard missing his left leg. Over the years they'd operated on a business relationship only. If Dorian needed cash rolled from his account or laundered so the Ironforge Revenue Bear didn't see it pop up in the Auction house reports he came to Abby. Everyone did. The metal door groaned and then opened. Dorian got to his feet. Inside a massive chamber stretched out. The walls made of solid obsidian, candles flickered in the darkness, small glass lamps and orbs hanging from ceiling bolts. Hundreds of abacuses' hung from the ceiling, ropes attached to each bead, each rope twined together into a complex pulley system that ended at a flat iron desk where Abby sat.
"Real flash." Cherry said admiring the place.
The door-guard eyed both of them. "Back." He said.
Dorian nodded. He started through the door, massaging his chest. The guard stopped Cherry. The woman flushed.
"Boss?"
The door guard turned to him. "Magic Hands stays here."
Dorian narrowed his gaze. "You know her?"
"Everyone does." The guard said.
His eyes locked with Cherry. "We'll talk about this later."
The Elf shrugged and crossed her arms. She stepped from the doorway and leaned against the stone wall. "Your dime." She muttered.
The metal door slammed shut. Dorian focused on the dwarf sitting at the giant iron desk. He walked the length of the chamber and took one of the seats opposite.
Abby rubbed his knobby nose, pulled a long wooden pipe off his desk and lit it from a nearby candle. "You look like ****, Dorian."
You know...everyone keeps telling me that.
"I know."
"In a pinch?"
"Sort of." Dorian said.
"Who?"
"Who what?"
"Who with?" Abby asked. His sausage fingers touched the bowl of the pipe, pulling it from his mouth. Blue smoke ran from his nostrils in rivers.
"Kellog...I think." Dorian said.
The old dwarf shook his head. "Bad meat to get into. Told you to stay out of the organ brokering."
"Too late now." Dorian said. He adjusted himself in the small chair. "I need cash."
"I don't make loans."
"Not a loan." Dorian said. "Banks being watched."
Abby laughed, slapped his meaty thigh, hand moving down to the fleshy stump where his leg ended. "What amount you looking to roll?"
"A grand."
"What color?"
"Gold."
The dwarf spat out a cloud of smoke. "That's big money."
"Call it cashing out." Dorian said. He reached into his jacket and fumbled through the scrapes of paper there till he found the Ironforge Banking Slip. The parchment was a brown color. "Got a pen?"
The dwarf passed him quill. Dorian set the parchment out on the tabletop and wrote the amount. He signed his name and then a series of symbols to the bottom of the paper. If the money was in his account the writing would vanish leaving only blank parchment. The parchment was then presented to a teller who passed it over a reading stone and allocated the funds. One of the new improvements for preferred clients. Dorian thought of it as the legal illegitimate account. If the writing didn't vanish, well then something had gone wrong and Kellog had somehow cleaned out his emergency funds.
Abby leaned over, puffing smoke. "Looks like-"
The writing vanished from the page. Dorian managed a weak smile and then folded it into squares. He wrote the deposit box number on the outside. The numbers faded just as soon as he'd written them.
Abby leaned back, his eyes muted. He set his pipe down and pulled a grouping of strings to him. The abacuses along the ceiling rattled. The dwarf's hands flew through a series of motions. "One K withdrawal, color G...transaction cloaked I take it?"
Dorian nodded. "Can't have anyone knowing."
"Time frame?"
"ASAP."
The dwarf made a few adjustments with the strings. "Expatiated retrieval..." He set the strings down looking at all of the colored beads behind Dorian. "Our cut is 250 in G's."
"**** man...why don't you just rob me blind?"
"1k is a big roll." Abby said. His knobby nose reflected a shard of lamplight. "People in the banking world notice a thousand gold pieces disappearing and then resurfacing. Puts us at risk. Bigger risk, bigger take."
Dorian shook his head. "Fine. 250."
The dwarf pulled a sheet from his desk and then scribbled something down. Dorian took it from him. The parchment had a U written on it and then a dash followed by 543. "What's this?"
"Catacombs. Unmarked grave. When we verify that you've got the funds the rest of the numbers will appear."
"When's that?"
"Three hours." Abby said. He motioned towards the door guard. "Pleasure doing business, Dorian."
Authors Notes: This story's coming at me pretty fast. Hope you like the ride.
Track Three: Bankroll
\1\
They stood in the catacombs, amid the dead silence and cobwebs that straddled unmarked graves. It was more of a crypt, bodies stacked on-top of each other in rectangular slots carved into the wall. Dorian wiped a slop of webbing and sweat from his face.
"You look jaundice, man." Cherry said. She'd picked up a sledgehammer on their way down into the combs, the thing propped over one shoulder.
Yeah, well I'm dying, that'll turn your system out of whack.
"What does the paper say?"
Dorian pulled it from his jacket and stared down at the scrawled writing: U-534. The rest of the numbers hadn't formed yet. He slumped against the wall.
When was the last time I slept?
Cherry dropped the sledgehammer to the floor, the lean frame of her body stretching out on the stone floor. Above them the presses where in full swing. The darkness swept between them.
"You got a girl?" Cherry asked.
"No." Dorian said. "How about you?"
"Had a boy once." Cherry said.
"Oh yeah?"
"Yeah, James Arthur Picken...went by Jimmy."
"A human?"
The Elf nodded.
"What happened?"
Cherry sighed into the darkness. "Died. Was a drunk."
"Sorry to hear that." Dorian leaned over and coughed hard into his hand.
"It happens. I just started working the circuit. Jimmy always had these big plans, thought he was going to be something big in Stormwind or something like that." Cherry said. "I always thought it was kind of funny, cute, even. Anyways...one day Jimmy gets this bright idea to knock off a transport of smack back in The Barrens. Knew about it somehow from a friend. He comes running in one day shouting how he did it, how we're going to be rich."
"Bad start." Dorian said.
"I had this sweet gig working debt collections out of Desolace. I left that night for a week. Came back and he was dead. Knew he was dead. Opened the door to our place and he was spread out on the bed, someone slashed his throat. Professional job."
Dorian said nothing.
"Ever find out who?"
"Yeah."
"What happened?"
Cherry got to her feet. "I killed him." She dusted the butt of her leather pants. "Check the paper."
Dorian looked down. U-534A2. The A2 was new. He got to his feet, grimaced and straightened his jacket. "Got it." He whispered.
"So which dead person are we waking up?" Cherry asked.
"U-534A2." Dorian said.
"All right then...lets get to grave robbing."
\2\
In her dream David was still alive, and she kept killing him. Only David wouldn't die. Nico struggled up from the dark depths of looped dreams to the dank smell of the forest. She'd lost weight. Time stretched thin. The creature said that would happen. Just what the creature was she didn't know, but he called himself Marv. It took her a moment to realize the creature was awake, his wet black eyes staring at her through the darkness.
"Your dreams..."
Nico rubbed her eyes. "David's alive in them."
Marv nodded, his scaled flesh clicking like chain mail. "Dreams do things to people."
You have no idea, Nico thought.
Why she wasn't afraid had occurred to her on more than a handful of occasions. The freak before her should have sent her screaming off deeper into the forest. Instead she took his appearance as fact. A natural progression of something she would never understand. Then again, she didn't understand much after David died.
"We move soon." Marv said. His voice sounded like jelly poured through a strainer.
"Where?"
"The Great Forge...then on." Marv said. "Two vagrants await us."
\3\
Dorian stared at the ornate crypt. It was stacked atop another stone coffin. The front covered an intricate design. Chiseled into the front plate was: U-534A2.
"This is it." Cherry said. "You want me to crack it?"
Dorian nodded.
The elf took a step back, raised the sledgehammer and then let it fly. The steel head shattered the front face of the stone cap. Dorian took a step back, shielding his face from flying shards. Lowering his arm he stared at the shattered rock.
Cherry glanced over at him. "This may take awhile." She craned back and slammed the hammer into the stone again, the noise mixing into the sound of the presses above. It took the better part of an hour to break through the outer shell. A cloud of noxious gas expelled from the crypt. Cherry backed away, her hand sliding into the crimson leather jacket she wore.
"Hate dead people." She muttered.
"Well this dead guy's got our money." Dorian said. "Wonder how much coin Abby has stashed through the catacombs..." He peered into the jagged broken stone mouth of the crypt. Where a body should have been there was just cobwebs and an old leather sack covered in dust. "Had this in storage for awhile. That whole quoting prices thing is bull****."
"We can still rough him up." Cherry said.
"Easy." Dorian reached inside and snagged the sack. "Help me." He grunted. Cherry grabbed his shoulders and pulled him out. Dorian fell against the wall, slid down, the satchel dropping into his lap.
"Count it." Cherry said.
"How do you know Abby?" Dorian asked. He pulled the old leather thong on the sack and started to stack gold coins around him.
"I offed his friends old lady two summers ago." Cherry said. She set the sledge hammer against the wall and crouch, legs muscles coiled, always at the ready.
"You what?"
"Killed her." Cherry said. "She got into some **** with Holden Burke in Stormwind, nabbed his stash or something like that, dunno, I don't ask details. Contract went out on her. I took it, cashed in two hundred golds. Needed some surgery done."
Dorian stopped counting. "You never said anything about killing people."
"You never asked for a resume." Cherry said.
"Point taken." Dorian said. He rolled his head against the wall. "So what's this going to cost me?"
"Ongoing." Cherry said. She pulled a rolled smoke from her jacket and struck a dull match to the end. "Hundred gold as a down-payment, I have to tussle somebody or kill them the price goes up, otherwise it's fifty silvers a week, not counting any incurred expenses."
"You're expensive." Dorian said.
"You heard the good doctor, it's not like you've got a lot of time to spend all that money you've got." Cherry said. She ashed onto the stone floor, ears perked. "Someone's coming. Pack that up."
"****." Dorian stuffed the coins back into their pouch and tied it to his waist. A hot knife buried itself in his chest. Grunting he pulled a white pill out and stuck it under his tongue. Once they got out of Ironforge he had to find out what the pills were and buy more.
If you make it out, he thought. Kellog's got his goons on you now. You're a marked man.
"Stay low, stay quiet." Cherry said. She was crouched, both arms pointed at the ground, daggers between her fingers, little instruments of death. "Two...male..." Her ears twitched again. "About thirty yards ahead." For the first time he noticed the position of her body, a perfect balance of equilibrium. "Stay here." She whispered.
I'm not paying for someone to get killed, Dorian thought.
He massaged his chest. Something felt loose around his heart, like a valve had decided to detach on its own accord to pump blood places no blood should be pumped. Dorian hunched over, hand against the wall.
Lot of good a cripple can do.
His mind went back to the Dead hound, the fangs. He cupped a hand over his eye and stared down the hall. There was a vague hunched over shape. Cherry? He hugged the wall. Did Abby spill the beans to Kellog? Take the whole cut an a little on top to get the location?
Speculation, Dorian thought, stop it.
Up ahead someone screamed in the concrete halls. Dorian went still. The clash of metal echoed and then another scream. Three long minutes passed when he could barely even manage to breathe, heartbeat stuffed into his throat.
"Price just went up." Cherry shouted from down the hall. "Double."
\4\
They rolled out of the catacombs loaded with a few extra silvers, Dorian with a vivid image of the two dead bodies they'd left down there. Cherry was efficient...horridly efficient. He'd never seen the two before.
"Who were those guys?" Dorian asked.
"Nobody." Cherry said. She stormed up a spiraling stairwell that led to a steam powered elevator shaft.
Dorian stopped. "Bull."
Cherry froze, her hand on the thin iron mesh of the lift. "What?"
"Those guys are after you." Dorian said. He realized the enclosed space between them. If she wanted to she could have shredded him a hundred times over and he wouldn't have been able to do a damn thing about it.
"Yeah...maybe they are." Cherry said. She pulled open the mesh. "Get in."
Dorian felt the scheme fall into place. He lowered his chin onto his chest. "You needed cash." He said. "You couldn't get it could you? You got people after you too."
"When you're in the business, you've got a list." Cherry said. In the darkness she flashed a weak grin. "You know how it goes. Take names of the people who want your ass on a stake out in the desert. When someone comes looking for you, you've gotta go over that list."
"Who?"
"I don't know." Cherry said. "But they wiped my accounts. I went to the Stormwind Bank, vaults empty, they say they've never heard of me, Ironforge is empty, even the back up bars of copper I had in Menthil are gone."
Dorian shook his head. "Using me."
"Same thing you would have done." Cherry said.
You're right, he thought. I would have ****ed you over in a heart beat if I had the motivation.
"Then lets negotiate." Dorian said. "You're broke, I got cash. I got connections."
"So do I." Cherry said.
"You got movement connections?"
Cherry went quite. She tied her ears back to her head and spread a flop of black hair over them.
"Didn't think so."
"You can get us out of Ironforge?" Cherry asked. She stepped into the lift. Dorian followed.
Authors Notes: I'm trying to keep these posts as regular as possible. Friday always seems to be a good day. So enjoy. This story probably isn't for kiddies if I haven't mentioned that yet.
Track Four: Showdown At The House Of Fallen Trees
\1\
They rented a room at a large hotel complex built into fabric of The Mystic Ward. Red glass tubing filled with swamp gas spelled out the name: House of Fallen Trees in iridescent light. The interior of the place was plush velvet floors and high priced furniture. Dorian felt out of place in the lobby among the gold lacquered hand rails and polished marble countertops. A number of well groomed dwarves and elves were seated around a parlor area separated by extravagantly polished wood doors with thin sheets of tracery glass.
Dorian came up to the counter where a small gnome dressed in a fine silk robe eyed him.
"We need a room." He said.
The gnome pretended to shuffled papers together. "The rate is ninety silver a night plus any incurred expenses from the catering service. A cheaper hotel is avail-"
Dorian dropped a gold coin down onto the counter. "That cover for the night?" He threw four more down. "How about the rest of the week?"
The gnome's Faberge smile shattered and then smoothed over, all pleasantries now. "My apologies, sir."
My ass and your face, a prefect match, Dorian thought.
Behind him Cherry had evaporated into one of the plush velvet padded chairs. Dorian wiped a swatch of sweat from his forehead.
"Would Sir prefer a singe bed or two?" The gnome asked. She'd pulled a large sheet of parchment from a nearby drawer and started to scribble down numbers onto the preprinted form.
"Single is fine."
The gnome glanced over at the elf. "Single, sir?"
"Yes."
She let out a sigh of disapproval and then scribbled something down on the form. "Names?"
"Jack and Sherrie Decamp." Dorian said.
"ID?"
Dorian fished through his pockets till he came out with a small leather bound book the size of a note-card. The gnome took it, glanced at his face, and then back down at the Travel Pass.
"The Misses?"
"My wife's ill. She lost her TP on the way here." Dorian said. He fished a few silver pieces out of his pockets, the ones from the dead body. "I was curious to know if there was an Elfin Embassy nearby, or a Visitor's Center?" He set the silver on the countertop, sliding it across the marble. "It'd be much appreciated."
The gnome eyed the silver, took the pieces and slipped them into her gown pocket. "The visitor's center is in the Commons near the Auction House. In order to have a new piece of documentation made she'll have to present current papers or have duplicates notarized and sent from her place of residence and delivered by secure post."
Dorian gave her a calculated nod. "Thank you, you've been very helpful." He took his TP back and stuffed it into the pocket of his jacket.
The woman scribbled a few notes down and then disappeared from the counter. Dorian watched her go, eyes glued to any signs of pressure. The House of Fallen Trees was a high class place, Dorian had stayed in it once. Kellog would be checking the junk houses. Dorian doubted Kellog would go to the ritz places to look for him.
"How's it going?" Cherry asked.
So far so good, he thought. Despite the fact we're fugitives for murder and Gods know what else by now.
"Fine." He said.
"So I'm your ill wife now?" She put a hand to her brow and feigned a graceful wavering. "My dear, however do you put up with me?"
"Alcohol." Dorian said.
The gnome returned to the desk holding an ornate polished bronze key. She set it on the marble top and looked at him. "You'll be staying on the fourth floor, suite 12A."
Cherry wrapped her arms around his waist. "Dear, my strength is going."
You're a horrible actor, Dorian thought.
He grabbed the key and headed towards the massive dual staircase, his hand locked around Cherry's. The elf let out a high pitched giggle as they collided with a well dressed couple.
"Sorry." Dorian muttered over his shoulder.
"Don't apologize." Cherry whispered. "I got a wallet off that guy."
"Cherry, chill."
"Right, boss."
\2\
Their room was a blend of high class and modern technology all rolled into one. Cherry spread herself out on the giant bed, the lace trimmed bed-sheets wrapped around her.
"We're taking these when we leave."
"Whatever." Dorian went to the mahogany bureau and stuffed his bag inside. Dropping his jacket he checked out the rest of the room. The walls were carved marble, covered in rich pale blue tapestries made of some sort of silk. A brown rug covered the floor, intricate geometric designs sewn into the fabric. Dorian headed off down the small hall. He stopped at what looked like a bathroom. A sink, toilet, and a shower occupied the space, made of polished chrome.
"They've got plumbing in this place." Dorian said.
"No way."
Way, Dorian thought.
"So who's this guy you know?" Cherry asked from the main room.
Dorian stripped down and stepped onto the tiled floor of the shower. A single steel faucet head hovered above him, a chain running down from it with a wooden handle attached at shoulder height. He pulled the chain. Hot water streamed over him. Grimacing he glanced down at the blackened flesh of his side. He touched the spongy tissue.
Dead rot, he thought. And it's going to spread.
You don't know that.
I don't?
"Yo, Dorian?"
"What?" He bathed his head under the faucet.
"Who's the guy?"
"Gnome, works repairs on the Deeprun Tram." Dorian said. He let go of the chain and found a towel hanging from a metal rack to the right. "That's how they run drugs from Stormwind to Ironforge. Agent makes a drop off the Tram in the middle of the track, Artex picks it up."
"Artex?"
"The gnome." Dorian said. "He can get us out to Stormwind. From there we'll be on our own. Probably best to catch a hypo flight."
"What about Kellog? He got guys there?" Cherry asked.
Dorian wrapped the towel around him, hiking it up over the black flesh. He walked out into the main room and dropped into one of the padded leather chairs.
"Hot stuff." Cherry whistled.
"Can it...I'm not paying you to mock me." Dorian said. He ran a hand through his stringy black hair. "I need to sleep."
Cherry nodded and got off the bed. She tossed her crimson jacket atop the dresser. "How long?"
"Six hours." Dorian said. He crawled onto the bed. The mattress hugged his body. Cherry started to say something but he'd already drifted off to a dead sleep. No dreams, no nothing.
\3\
Cherry sat in the padded chair watching Dorian sleep. The man had dropped like a dead seal against the shore. Her mind wandered over the last day trying to piece together what had gone wrong so terribly fast.
Jimmy and all his big plans. What a load of bull**** that had turned out to be. All the promises she'd clung to hoping that he was right, and knowing that he wasn't. Jimmy was never going to be anything, and now Jimmy was dead.
Loveless, she thought. That's my name, don't wear it out.
A knock came at the great oak door. Cherry raised an eyebrow, eyes creased.
"Who is it?"
"Housekeeping."
Her ears twitched. She got to her feet just as she heard the click of a musket hammer being drawn back. Old reflexes took hold. She slid back from the door. Thunder rocked the halls. The door exploded into a fine mess of wood shards and lead balls leaving a head sized hole where solid wood had once been. Through the hole she saw a slow casual hand toss a small orb through the hole.
Scatter bomb, Cherry thought.
She spun on her feet, one booted foot kicking the mattress. Dorian screamed as he toppled off the other side, the plush sleeping pad flopping on top of him. Cherry covered her head and squatted. The scatter bomb went off mid-arc. The sound tore at her ears.
A handful of pellets bit into her back breaking the skin. She grimaced and pivoted to the left, head darting into the small hall that lead to the shattered door. A short brown haired woman with black eyes stepped through, musket smoking in one hand.
\4\
Dead, dead, dead, Dorian thought. I'm dead.
It was all he could think. He heard the first explosion and then the bed was on top of him and he was on the floor, thrashing to get it off. Another explosion echoed against the marble walls. Cherry grunted. Dorian slid along the floor till his head cleared the mattress.
We're boned.
A long brown haired woman stepped through the door, dressed in a plaid skirt that hung to her knees, white shin socks and loafers. A white blouse was tucked into the skirt. His eyes were drawn to the musket, the massive bore pointed to the ground, smoke trailing up towards the marble ceiling. He watched in silent frozen horror as Cherry rounded the corner. Her back was a tattered mess of the leather tunic she wore, blood peppered against her skin.
The woman at the door let out a short gasp of surprise. Cherry threw a kick, turning her hip, all of her weight going into one calculated blow that reminded Dorian of the underground Astranaar kick-boxers he'd seen years ago. Cherry's boot connected, a solid shot straight to the kneecap. Dorian's stomach turned over. The woman's knee bent sideways, a hollow crack filled the air followed by a scream.
Not even twenty-four hours and you're on a three-kill streak, Dorian thought. Remind me never to be on the business end of your anger.
Cherry jumped back just as the stock of the musket swung at her midsection. She whipped her wrists in a looping movement and the blades appeared.
Gotta learn how she does that, Dorian thought.
The woman at the door dropped into a low crouch, favoring the one leg that still worked. She lunged forward, a slim, narrow, dagger in hand. Cherry pulled to the left a second to late. Dorian watched a ribbon of blood and skin peel away from her torso.
Cherry grunted, locked her elbow around the woman's arm and jammed three honed blades into the joint. Her other hand came out, flat palmed, and smashed into the woman's nose. Something crunched in her face, black eyes rolled in towards their sockets. The woman moaned something and then slumped to the floor. Cherry backed away, stopped, and then kicked the woman's head. Dorian heard another cracking noise.
He crawled from behind the mattress and pulled his pants on. Cherry gasped, leaning against the wall, one hand cupped at her side.
"How bad?" Dorian asked.
"No time." Cherry said. "Grab your ****."
"What?"
\5\
Cherry picked a room at random, two levels up. Dorian had the woman's legs, Cherry the arms. Before they'd left she'd knelt down and broken each one of the woman's fingers. Dorian watched, his stomach rolling over and over on itself.
"What was that for?"
"So she can't use a weapon when she wakes up." Cherry said in a flat business tone.
Who the hell are you? Dorian wondered.
They carted her body to another room. Cherry swapped clothes with her in the hall, Dorian looking out for anyone that might be returning or leaving. They stopped at 14C. Cherry, looking out of place in a skirt and knee socks knocked on the door.
"Room service."
An elderly dwarf answered the door in a silk robe. "We didn't-"
Cherry belted him in the face. "Grab the girl." She said.
Dorian grabbed the woman's hands. Cherry pushed the old dwarf through the door. In the main room she found his wife, gagged her and tied them both to a bedpost.
"There a bathroom in here?" Cherry asked.
The dwarf woman nodded, eyes darting towards the side corridor. Dorian shut the door to the room, bolting it. The woman on the floor moaned. Cherry grabbed her by the hair and started off towards the shower. Dorian followed.
"You might not want to see this." Cherry said.
Dorian was silent.
Cherry pulled the woman into the shower propping her upright. "Pull the chain." She said.
Dorian reached over and pulled the shower chain. Hot water spilled over the woman. Cherry tugged at the hem of the white blouse, the right side was a faded crimson stain. The woman's eyes fluttered into focus, the mess of her nose turned to the right, two steady channels of blood spilling over her lips.
Cherry squatted and fumbled something from her crimson jacket. "You know what this is?" She rolled a small ebony colored stone in her hands.
The woman nodded.
"Good...that'll save us some time." Cherry said. "Talk, or it touches the water."
The woman started to work her lips. Dorian waited. She made a strange chortling noise and then spat a mouthful of blood onto Cherry's face. The Elf never flinched. She reached up to the metal rack and pulled a towel off.
"Keep the water running." She said. "Don't get wet either."
"What is that?" He asked, pointing to the stone.
"Thunder stone." Cherry said. She disappeared into the main bedroom. Dorian heard wood breaking.
"You know what she's going to do to me?" The woman asked. She smiled a mask of crimson.
"Not my business." Dorian said.
Although I am paying for it, he thought.
Cherry reappeared with a splintered wooden rod. She took the leather thong holding her ears back and tied the stone to the end. Her eyes took on a flat glazed look. "Last chance...your way, or my way?"
The woman grunted. "We're the same...what'd you do?"
Cherry nodded. She shoved the stick at the woman. The stone touched the water. A wave of electricity snapped from it, crackling the air to the dead smell of ozone. The woman in the shower screamed, every tendon on her body flexed and strained against her skin. Cherry held it there for another ten seconds and then pulled back. Smoke curled from the woman's chest, the flesh burnt and charred there. He thought of his blackened side, the dead rot.
The woman coughed, trying to breath, tears spilled from her eyes in a soundless cascade. Dorian let go of the shower handle and took a step back. Cherry turned to him. "I told you you wouldn't want to see this."
Should have listened, Dorian thought. I should have listened to her.
Cherry eyed him. "Wait in the main room."
Dorian scurried back into the bedroom. He caught sight of the dwarves tied to the bedpost and waved to them. "Real sorry about this...had a little trouble with the housekeeping."
The electric shocks went on for another hour in the bathroom. Dorian cringed every-time he heard the strange snapping noise, like crinkling paper and lions. At last he heard low whispers. The shower shut off. Cherry came back out into the bedroom. She tossed the wooden rod into the corner, stuffing the thunder stone into her crimson jacket.
"She talk?" Dorian asked.
Cherry nodded.
"What'd she say?"
The Elf pulled at the hem of the plaid skirt and then hiked the socks up to her knees. "We might want to see Kellog."
"What?"
"He might be one of the few people that can help us." Cherry said.
"In case you forgot he's after my ass." Dorian said.
"No...he's not."
Dorian felt an icy hand clamp around his chest. He swallowed and put a white pill under his tongue. The words echoed in his head.
Authors Notes: As you might have noticed the character Case has appeared in Loveless, not my original intention, and now another has popped up. What for and why will come together. Enjoy.
Track Five: Ultra Blue
\1\
David had his arms around her. His mouth hot on her neck, the feel of his breath across her throat more inviting than anything else she could imagine. They twined together in the sheets. Nico closed her eyes and felt a single tear escape.
Why am I crying?
"You have to wake up." David said.
"What?" She blinked.
Marv stood in front of her, black eyes viscous, covered in some sort of thick mucus. "You have to wake up." He repeated.
Reality came through in filtered bits and pieces. The swamp, the thick black muck her boots were stuck in. The cats tail weed that sprang up from the marsh swayed with the wind. Nico rubbed her eyes. They'd traveled through a desolate part of the wetlands, into a deep marsh that bore no resemblance to any place she'd ever seen. The trees that grew from the ground were twisted and angry. Their branches bloomed dead leaves that never saw life. A litter of brown dry twisted petals sunk into the marsh, deep into the black waters.
Black waters, Nico thought. What place has black waters?
"The sisters are waiting." Marv said. He pointed one clawed hand towards a shape some yards ahead. In the dark it was impossible to tell what. "Don't take everything they saw literally."
"Huh?"
"Trust only the blind one."
Nico walked towards the vague shape. Closer she could see a number of chaotic roots wrapped around the chassis of a strange looking machine; painted a dull yellow color, corroded with rust. Vines and roots twined through the windows, over the hood, across the tail end. Nico lowered her head, a figure moved inside.
"Is someone there?"
"Depends who's asking?" A little girl said.
A strange giggle echoed from the metal machine. Nico took a step back. From around the side a tiny human looking girl appeared. A faded dress hung from her shoulders, stained and ragged. Her face was the shade of milk, hair a darkly shade of plumb. Nico took that in, her mouthed dropped open when she saw the girls eyes. Black thread wove through the lids, effectively keeping them sewn shut.
"My Gods..." Nico whispered.
"We have a guest." The girl said.
Another wave of hysterical giggles from inside the metal machine.
"I apologize for my sister." The girl said. "Bee is a bit...unhinged, I believe the word is."
"What is this?" Nico asked. She struggled to find David inside her. The safe spot in her chest where David wasn't dead, and she wasn't killing him, where he spoke softly of better things.
The girl with the sewn eyes made a brief curtsy. "Once again, I apologize for the lack of introductions. My name is Aee, my two sisters," she motioned towards the machine, "prefer the company of a broke down Volkswagen Beetle."
Nico glanced over her shoulder but Marv was gone. Up in the trees somewhere, maybe. She returned her gaze to the Aee. Two more faces had appeared inside the machine. Both identical to Aee. One looked insane, the other held a placid face of pessimism.
"Bee is my sister, she's gone mad, I know not if she speaks the truth, for my other sister Cee has sewn my eyes shut and I cannot see her face. Cee always lies though."
"Do not." Cee said.
The girl in the middle, Bee, giggled, stuffed her hands into her mouth and started to nibble at her nails.
Gods help me, I'm not strong enough for this, Nico thought.
"Come woman...what do you wake us for?" Aee asked.
"Marv said you'd have a prophecy for me." Nico said. "An answer."
"We don't answer anything." Cee said.
"Shush yourself." Aee grunted. "What is your question woman? My eyes may be sewn shut but they still see far and wide."
"You can't see at all." Bee said and giggled. "Cee carved you up with the needle and thread, just like the giant pooh bear."
Nico squatted, her knees popping. "One gone blind, one gone mad, and one that can't tell the truth. ****ing fantastic." Nico said.
"What's your question woman?" Cee snapped.
She recalled what Marv had specifically asked her to repeat. They wouldn't answer to him for some reason. On the rare occasion the two spoke he'd made that point clear.
"I need a vessel." Marv had said.
Nico brushed a strand of hair from her face. "The dream...The Emerald Dream...who's in there and why is it awake?"
The three sisters exchanged glances, even Aee managed to look in the direction of her sisters. They confirmed in a strange babble of tones and sharp clicks that reminded Nico of crows feeding on a corpse, beaks snapping at each other.
"Three answers." Aee said. "Mine will be true...the others...I do not know for my eyes are lost to me."
I can see that, Nico thought.
She imagined David standing behind her. His broad hands on her shoulders. A flicker of strength filled her, imaginary or not.
Aee leaned back against the hood of the Beetle. "The Dream has broken...tangents in many directions, some from the same mind. They seek bodies, they seek ways to live on beyond what they are."
Bee pulled her fingers from her mouth, a nail stuck between her two front teeth. "The dominant one calls himself Androgen."
Nico let her ears record. She watched Bee's face for any kind of reaction and saw none. Truth or Lie?
Cee crawled from the window, bending at the waist. "The mind that shattered into a million pieces is Malfurion Stormrage."
"True, true." Bee giggled.
Nico raised an eyebrow. She knew the name. Stormrage had been the most powerful Druid to the Elfin people, from what she could recollect. He'd disappeared into The Emerald Dream some time ago.
"Who's Androgen? Is he part of Malfurion?" Nico asked.
"One question." Aee said. "That is all that is allowed during a lifetime." Her sewn eyes rolled beneath the lids. "Take what you will and leave us, this place grows dark, and beasts may prowl."
Nico left, taking backwards steps till she was far enough away to feel safe to turn her back on the crazed sisters.
The three little sisters of Deluria, she thought.
From behind her came the distant echo of a giggle. Nico had a brilliant flash of the mad sister and shuddered. Gods help her, if she was going to make it through whatever this was she needed help.
\2\
"What about her?" Dorian asked pointing towards the bathroom.
Cherry rubbed her side. "She'll walk again...eventually."
Dorian didn't ask anymore. Getting out of the hotel was just about as hard as he'd expected. High class places didn't tolerate doors being shot in and bombs exploding. The Ironforge guard was all over the building. The guard had started a systematic sweep of the hotel, starting on one floor and then heading up to the next once the rooms were clear.
"Fire." Dorian said.
They stood in the hallway, among a dozen other people as the guards rolled down the corridor.
"What?"
"Distraction, we need a fire." Dorian said. He shifted on his feet, covering as much of himself with his jacket as possible. Cherry looked fine with her coat on, it covered the bloody side and tattered back. Further up the line a small dwarf woman stood in her doorway shouting at the guards. Cherry pulled a handful of wooden matches from her jacket and palmed them.
"When I tell you, scream." She said.
He nodded.
Won't matter, they'll still get us, he thought.
Cherry moved down the hall in front of an open door. The occupants were standing at the head of the line screaming at the guards. Dorian watched her mingle with the people and then simply vanish into the room. No one noticed. A second later she reappeared and worked her way back towards him.
I bet if you really wanted, nobody could find you, Dorian thought. The Doom Lords themselves must envy you.
He found himself eyeing the curve of her hips in the skirt, the trim toned legs. Shaking himself he looked to his left towards the front of the line. The couple that'd been screaming were taken into custody.
"Give it a minute." Cherry said.
"What'd you do?"
"Wait for it."
Dorian waited. He waited a full five minutes. The guards had moved within gripping distance of them. He waited. After all the cloak and dagger this was how it ended. The guard would frisk him, find a fortune and a weapon or two, frisk Cherry and find a plethora of illegal material and they'd be hauled away.
I'm dying anyways, he thought.
"Scream." Cherry said.
"What?"
From down the hall something exploded. A fist of black smoke smashed into the corridor. Dorian froze. Beside him Cherry formed her hand into a perfect V-shape and slammed it into the guards windpipe just as the smoke covered them. A strong hand grabbed his jacket and hauled him forward. Coughing, he stumbled over a screaming woman, her face a brittle mask of fright and ash. The hand pulled him forward. They slammed into a stairwell, Cherry in the lead.
"You okay?" She asked.
Dorian started down the stairs after her, heart pounding in his chest.
"What the hell was that?" Dorian shouted. "I said start a fire."
"Oh there'll be a fire." She flashed him a wicked grin. "Two parts liquid mythril, one part ether and a dash of sulphur."
"I don't follow."
"Soap fire." Cherry said. "Water doesn't put it out. You've got to smother it with another alkali."
"Real flash." Dorian muttered.
"I thought so."
They burst out into the lobby. Cherry started screaming the moment she cleared the door. The Ironforge guards looked at her, saw her, and passed her by heading for the stairs. Others barked orders to get the hoses ready from the forge. Dorian mingled with the herd of panicked people. The effect was disorientating, he lost Cherry twice in the madness, only to find her beside him, moving through the mob like a ghost.
\3\
Lilliam turned from the kitchen window, her eyes distant, a faint glimmer of her Mother present in the sunlight that filtered through the window. She stretched her arms above her head and then took a sip from the dark coffee set on the table. Her Father sat across from her, blind, two years now.
"Little in front, Dad."
Terris leaned forward, a withered hand finding the ceramic cup and then bringing it to his lips.
Two days, Lilliam thought, and then back to the graveyard.
Part of her refused to consider the idea of going. Terris would make her go, it'd always bothered him that they'd never found the body.
The body? YOUR MOTHER'S BODY.
Yes, her mother's body. Disappeared somewhere in The Gulch, lost in whatever it was that cursed that land. Lilliam turned back towards the window. Through the clean pane she saw a short woman, silver hair, standing in the middle of the road. Lilliam got to her feet.
"What is it?" Terris asked.
"Dunno." Lilliam went to the window, cupped her hands around her eyes and gazed down the beaten path. Their house stood outside Menethil, a rough half mile, not too far into the wetlands. Most people stayed away, the rumors had spread. Her Mother had simply gone mad when the Horde came, and then she was never seen again.
A dusty memory flashed itself before her eyes. The image of an old wrinkled woman in black robes throwing cards onto a table.
Rebirth, a croons voice whispered. But not for all. Tell me girl...do you see the darkened glass now?
Lilliam shoved the memory back to the catacombs of her mind where dead things should be.
"Someone outside?" Terris asked.
"Stay here, Daddy." Lilliam said. She crossed the kitchen, slipping her feet into the worn leather boots by the door. "Make sure the children don't come out."
"They're asleep." Terris said.
"Children don't sleep forever." Lilliam said.
The old hag spoke again: The Fool...that's you.
She cracked the door and then closed it behind her. The woman stood in the middle of the beaten road, skinny, mud stained the bottom half of her. Two glazed eyes took Lilliam in.
"Are you lost?" Lilliam asked.
"I don't know."
"What's your name?"
"Nico..." The woman started to cry. The crying never seemed to stop.
Dorian slumped to his feet in one of the engineering alcoves. He slipped a white tablet beneath his tongue, letting the bitter stuff dissolve. The small satchel had three more left. Cherry sat beside him in the small tunnel. A channel had been carved in the center, dirty water streaming down to a purification system below. The hum of heavy machinery filled the corridor.
"Place was sized for Dwarves." Cherry muttered. "You okay?"
He cupped one hand over his chest, over the stabbing knife that kept tearing into him. "Yeah...heart."
From the end of the tunnel a storm of firemen passed by headed towards the hotel. Dorian watched them. Flames billowed out marble frame windows. He closed his eyes and tried to imagine he was someplace else. The Highlands were good this time of year.
"You look out of it." Cherry said. She tucked her skirt under herself and sat.
Dorian craned his head towards her. "What'd you want to be when you grew up?"
"Huh?"
"Not a hard question." Dorian said.
I don't know if I remember anymore, he thought.
"You looked like you've done that before." Dorian said.
"Done what?" Cherry looked at him, one ear popping up out of her hair towards the flaming hotel.
"The shower."
"Comes with the business." Cherry said. "Sometimes you have to get the information the hard way...and that's never pretty."
"What did you want to be?" He repeated.
Cherry rubbed her hands together, those slender magic hands. She let out a sad laugh. "A baker...I wanted to own a bakery."
Dorian smiled. "Little far from that now, aren't you?"
She shrugged. "What about you?"
"I don't know." He said. "I can't remember the last time I did anything that I really wanted to do."
"Think back." Cherry said. "Back to when you were little. Where'd you grow up?"
"Northshire." Dorian said. "Near Stormwind."
"What'd your Dad do?" Cherry curled up beside him, her head on his shoulder. She put a hand over his, the one covering his chest.
"He made potions." Dorian said.
"Potions?"
"Medicine."
And he made **** for money, he thought.
"What'd your parents do?"
"They died." Cherry said. She laughed, nervously. "Sort of. My father went out to pick up bread and cheese...never came back."
"What about your Mom?"
The sound of hoses filled The Mystic Ward. Dorian watched, amazed as the fire spread even under the onslaught of the water. Dwarves shouted orders. A few concerned citizens pitched in.
Can a modern city burn? Dorian wondered.
"My Mom hung herself a year after, on his birthday." Cherry said.
"How old were you?"
"Five."
"****."
"Your parents dead?" Cherry asked.
"My Dad, yeah." Dorian felt his chest loosen, something gave way and what passed for a normal heartbeat started again. "He caught the drowning disease, filled his lungs. Bought a ticket when I was twenty."
"Mom?"
"Never knew her. She died giving birth to me." Dorian said. He tried to piece the mental picture together of what she looked like. His father had shown him a portrait of her once, on old, wrinkled parchment.
You have her eyes, he had said.
"I'm sorry." Cherry said.
A small clot of twigs and resin floated past them carried by the channel. Dorian closed his eyes again and took a deep shuddery breath. "You don't live long doing this sort of thing do you?"
"Doing what?"
"What we do."
Cherry shook her head. "No...we don't. You know that. The list...it always goes back to the list. Sooner or later someone on that list is going to find you. I'll probably wake up in my sleep with a knife in the back years from now."
"A baker." Dorian said. He laughed. "I'm not sure you could have made it as a baker."
"I couldn't. I can't bake for ****." Cherry said. She got to her feet, dusted her skirt and headed towards the far end of the corridor. "Come on, we gotta get to Kellog's."
Dorian gave one last look to the flaming hotel. His chest heart, his head hurt, everything hurt. Darkly he thought:
You're life is just one series of bad moments strung together, his Father whispered, enjoy the little gaps that come between them.
\2\
There was no plan. No sneaking into Kellog's place. Dorian simply walked in the front door and waited for the hail of gunfire and arrows to tear him to pieces. Kellog's place of operation was the second story of a general goods shop in the commons. Sometimes the best hiding place was out in the open, in plain sight. Cherry had his heels.
We're going to die in here, he thought. Kellog's going to whip out Lady Kay on us.
The general goods store smelled like oats and dried food. Dorian nodded to the small gnome behind the counter and headed for the stairs at the rear of the store. Step by step he went up. His heart locked up twice and then gave way again. At the top of the steps a large ironwood door stood, one polished brass knob casting his reflection back at him.
"What do we do?" Cherry asked. She'd turned back into that little ball of raw nerves and barb wire.
Dorian knocked. "Nothing."
A hidden slot pulled back. Lady Kay's eyes took him in. "If it isn't the prodigal **** up. Hear you're dying."
"Word moves fast." Dorian said.
"Only when you pay for it." Lady Kay said. Her eyes floated over to Cherry. "Leave the Razor***** here."
"Nice to see you again, too." Cherry said. She flashed a wicked grin and mimed slicing her neck.
"She goes where I go."
"Not gonna happen." Lady Kay said. "You wanna see Kellog, you leave Little Miss Quicksilver out here."
"Kay!" A voice shouted from inside. "Just let them in for the love of the Gods."
Spitfire burned in Kay's eyes. She slammed the slot shut. A series of rough bolts flung from the door. Dorian took a step back. The ironwood door swung open. The second floor was a pre-fab model. The wooden floors were polished to a dull shine, an Elven rug on the floor, the walls painted a pale tan color. Two couches were in the room, one on each side. A low chandelier hung from the ceiling, flickering orbs attached to the arms. Sitting behind a massive desk was Kellog. The gnome waved a tiny hand at him.
"Dorian...long time no see." The gnome smiled, most of his teeth were nothing more than hard steel capped over rotted enamel. "Come in...we have much to discuss you and I."
In the corner of the room Dorian could make out a shadowy figure, covered in a thick black robe. Kay stood in the doorway, smiling. "Welcome to the lion's lair." She said.
Massaging his chest Dorian stepped through.
\3\
Two chairs were pushed up to the desk near Kellog. Dorian took the first one, Cherry on his right. Behind them Lady Kay floated like a specter. Kellog pulled a hand rolled cigar from his desk and lit it. The thing looked ridiculous in his tiny hands.
"Word on the street, right?" Kellog asked.
Dorian nodded. "'Fraid so...I know how it breaks your heart."
"To the core." Kellog said. He blue smoke ring left his mouth. "As much as I'd like to see your guts splatter across the floor someone's paid a significant amount of cash to keep you alive."
Dorian glanced at Cherry. Mentally he went over HIS list.
Who's it going to be? Who's Kellog going to hand me off to? The copper bar guy? The organ salesmen?
The figure in the shadows stepped forward and pulled back the hood of her robes. She was young, an Elf, maybe only fourteen, Dorian could never tell with elves. They aged in a different fashion than people. Spiral tattoo's covered her lavender cheeks leading up to bright emerald eyes.
"Who's this?" Dorian asked.
"My name is Loveless." The elf said. "And you...You are Richard Dorian, Richie to your brother."
How do you know my name, Dorian thought.
He felt his mouth drop open. The elf turned towards Cherry. "And Constance Gone...wonders never cease. We believed you dead."
Dorian looked over at Cherry. The woman looked like a tightly bound ball of rage. In a second the blades would fly from her hands, and Loveless would find herself Piece-less.
"Who's we?" Dorian asked without realizing it.
"Those that represent The Emerald Dream." Loveless said. "Now...let us speak of things yet to come."
I don't like the sound of that at all, Dorian said. Not a ****ing bit.
TBC...
irc.aniverse.com
#wowff
Last edited by fallonquinn; 31-01-2007 at 03:32 AM..
Track Seven: The Grave Of Cassandra Silverpane/Just Take A Deep Breath
|1|
Case walked the steps up to the ironwood door not knowing what to expect. She'd gotten a rolled parchment slip from Kellog almost an hour ago. Over the years she'd worked on retainer patching up Lady Kay whenever the dumb broad got herself into a tussle. At the door she stopped, adjusted the massive leather satchel over her shoulder, and knocked.
The hidden slot retracted. Kay's eyes.
"You tossed again?" Case asked.
"Not me this time." Lady Kay said.
"Then who? Kellog knows I don't deal. Hell I buy my **** from you guys." Case said. She covered her mouth and yawned. The slot closed. Blots flung, the door opened. Case stepped into Kellog's office to a swarm of people. She took in Dorian and Cherry sitting in their chairs, both of them blank faces of shock. A young elven girl sat on one of the couches, Kellog at his desk.
"What is this?" She asked.
Bad business, she answered herself. Stuff you should stay out of.
Kellog took a puff from his cigar, little more than a stub. "Razorgirl needs your expertise, got diced."
Case narrowed her eyes. "Dorian...fancy seeing you here."
The man waved a pale hand towards her.
"How's the chest?"
"Dead." He whispered.
No yet, she thought, you think it feels dead, give it another two months, you'll be begging for death.
Case walked over to Cherry. The woman was dressed in a ridiculous uniform. White blouse and knee socks, a plaid skirt. The right half of the blouse and the back was a crimson stain. "This have something to do with the House of Fallen Trees?" Case asked.
"Does it matter?" Kellog said. He smiled.
"You're money, man." Case said. She lifted Cherry's arm. "How deep?"
"Couple inches." Cherry said.
What is going on in here?
"Why is Miss Delvin here?" The Elven girl asked.
Case felt her bones go cold. Blood drained from her hands. She hadn't heard that name in over thirty years. Somewhere, back in a city that was dead to her was a birth certificate for one Miss Genoveva Delvin, daughter of Lythandrel and Skye Delvin.
I buried that, Case thought. A long time ago.
She spun on her feet, eyes burning. The little elven girl only smiled. "How do you know that name?" Case asked.
"We've kept an eye on you." The girl said. "You're one of only two people to survive the events at The Gulch twenty years ago."
Case took a step backwards. "Kellog, I don't deal with this ****, man." She pushed her satchel in front of her like some sort of shield. "Find another patch work dealer."
"Loveless." The girl said.
Oh ****, Case thought.
Her back went erect. She faced the girl, eyes narrowed and serious. "Who's your partner?"
"Relentless." Loveless said.
She's legit, Case thought. My Gods, The Emerald Guard is here in Ironforge.
"Have you spoken to Field Marshall Pardimor?" Case asked.
The girl shook her head. "He was never one for keeping things secret."
Oh he's got a whopper, Case thought. Like where the body of Astrid Erinyes is.
She kept that thought to herself. Cherry grunted from her chair. Case refocused her attention on her. "Lift your shirt." Case said.
Cherry pulled up the right side. A long diagonal gash curved around Cherry's torso, almost an inch wide. Case stared at it. Two layers deep almost, from what she could see. Most of the blood had clotted to a thick mess, cracking the wound open again wasn't going to be pretty.
"How long ago?"
"Few hours." Cherry said.
"Good...we can still suture it then." Case dropped her satchel on the ground. "What's the story with the back?"
"Scatter bomb." Cherry said. "Probably fifteen pellets in there."
Case lifted the shirt and looked at the crimson dots. "More like twelve...but we can get those out...they'll heal on their own." Her eyes went back to Loveless. "So what the **** are you here for? Not exactly around your class of people."
"Edgy." Loveless said. She smiled again, that twisted teasing smile. Case restrained an urge to choke the girl. "Class has no importance here, I think Miss Gone would agree on that."
"My name's Cherry."
"Whatever you call yourself now." Loveless said.
You're making friends fast, Case thought.
"Where's The Emerald Brigade?" Case asked. "This is more their jurisdiction than yours. Those tattoo's, those are Ward tattoo's."
Loveless looked honestly surprised for the first time since Case had laid eyes on her. The sight gave her a joyful stir.
"Doesn't feel so good when the slap stick's in someone else's hand does it?" Case asked. She stuffed her hands into her pocket. "You're young, wait till your old and then dish out ****."
"Such a mouth." Loveless said.
"Bite me." Case turned back to Cherry. "You all right with the pain?"
The Elf gave a quick thumbs up.
It took the better part of two hours to suture the wound. Case ended up putting in close to thirty tight packed stitches. It reminded her vaguely of the time she spent on the fishing ship out at sea, back before they pulled Pardimor from the water. How long had it been since she'd thought of him? The nut had gone out and made a name for himself, became a Field Marshall. Wonders never ceased.
She took a pair of pliers from her bag and stared to extract the pellets lodged under Cherry's skin. "My guess...you haven't told The Emerald Brigade what's going on. Bit over stepping your boundaries, isn't it?"
"You know nothing of this."
"Over my head." Dorian said.
"Second that." Lady Kay muttered.
"A little Ward and her partner trying to contain a **** up?" Case asked. She glanced over at the girl. Frank anger stood on her face. "Ah...so it is." She rotated the pliers and pulled out a lead ball a half inch in diameter. Dropping it to the floor she moved on to the next puncture hole on Cherry's back. "Stormrage? He finally snap? That it?"
"Miss Delvin."
"Name thing won't get a rise out of me anymore." Case said. "And by the way, it's Case, just Case."
"What are you talking about?" Kellog asked. He stamped out his cigar.
"Malfurion Stormrage." Case said. She pulled another pellet out. Cherry flinched. "Sorry, sugar." She went to the next wound. "Kay, grab some gauze out of my bag and hold it over the weeping wounds."
"She's not at liberty to say." Loveless said.
That's where you're wrong, Case thought. I gave up on your system when I dropped the name.
"Malfurion was trapped in The Emerald Dream...Loveless over here is a Ward, someone who watches the happenings in The Green Land. You spend too much time in The Green and your mind can fragment. That about the gist of it?"
Loveless grunted.
"Yeah, Malfurion finally snapped. His minds gone in so many directions it's hard to tell what's what." Case said. Kay flopped a wad of gauze on Cherry's back. "The only way to recombine him is to find where the pieces went and destroy them on this realm, then they return to the source. How many are left?"
"Two." Loveless said. She looked indifferent, uninterested in the conversation.
"Near closing time then, and you can't seal the deal." Case said. She pulled the last pellet, applied another layer of gauze to Cherry with Kay and then reached into her bag and pulled out two red capsules. She placed them in Cherry's palm. "One, every eight hours, fake doctor's orders."
"We've located one." Loveless said. "My partner has her under his wing."
"Who've they got on Ward duty now?" Case asked. "Still Marv?"
Loveless flinched.
"Good...now lets lay some cards on the ****ing table you little punk." Case took the couch on the opposite wall. "I don't care what you want with Dorian and Cherry, I could care less. I want you, The Emerald Brigade, to destroy whatever you have on me, I know you've got something."
"You've got nothing I want." Loveless said.
The room filled with a compressed tension, like the barometric pressure had risen ten pounds per square inch. Case smiled.
"Oh I think I do." Case said. "I know where Astrid Erinyes is buried."
Loveless actually jumped this time. "You lie! Filth! WHORE!"
Case waved a hand. "No need, Pardimor will confirm it. Back in Darnassus there's a little cemetery in Cenarion Enclave. Cassandra Silverpane."
Loveless knotted her brow together. "Pardon?"
"Look in Cassandra Silverpane's grave...I guarantee you it's not Cassandra in there." Case said.
"Why?"
"Because Cassandra Silverpane doesn't exist. Have the records room run a search, it'll come out as an unmarked grave. Name is for show. Plus...the corpse is missing an arm." Case said.
The girl took this in. Her face contorted. "The Emerald Brigade will cease its activities on you Miss Delvin."
"Just Case."
"Whatever."
She got to her feet. "Ladies and Gentlemen, it's been quaint but I'm out." Case said. A clean slate, records gone, she was no one anymore, and that let her be ANYONE. She turned to the door. "Bill me for this one, Kellog."
The gnome grunted something. Case was already down the stairs and out onto the torch lit streets.
|2|
Lilliam watched the woman sleep. She'd spent almost twelve hours under. During the brief periods she woke she kept asking for someone named David, confused, and most of all: Afraid. Back in the kitchen she poured herself a cup of tea. Terris had himself perched on one of the wooden stools, his cane propped up by his leg.
"You want tea, Daddy?"
"Whiskey."
Elune, you're going to end up like Mom.
She pulled a lableless bottle from one of the cabinets and poured a shot of whiskey into a ceramic cup, adding some water to it.
"On the table, Daddy." She pushed the cup across the counter. Her Father snatched it up and sniffed it.
"You put water in it."
"It's before noon, Dad."
"So?"
"Gods, you and Mom." Lilliam said. She sipped her tea and sat down at the table. "What do we do with her?"
Terris grimaced as he downed the shot. "Call the Menethil guard, maybe? Probably a missing persons report out for her somewhere."
"Well she can't stay here." Outside the kitchen window she watched Alison and Kali pushing each other on the tire swing outside. Both of the girls had given the human woman the eye before going outdoors. Lilliam couldn't blame them. She hated the bastards, humans in general. When the little house outside of town came up for sale she snatched it off the market and disappeared. Every year at the anniversary of the blue light from The Gulch the townspeople made a woman out of straw that they named 'Astrid' and then set it on fire and beat it with sticks.
They hate us, she thought. They hate my Mother.
Lilliam couldn't blame them. Part of her hated Astrid too. The woman stirred in one of the back rooms. Lilliam's ear cocked towards it.
"Maybe she's wanted." Lilliam said.
"I doubt it." Terris set down the cup and got to his feet. His cane swung out before him till he found a chair at the table. "It's some kind of metal trauma." His wrinkled face formed a dull frown. "I don't think we want to know from what either."
"Agreed." Lilliam said. She opened the kitchen door and motioned the kids in. "Get ready, Gramps, here they come.
|3|
Nico dreamed of dark things. Creatures with clawed hands (not too unlike Marv's), jagged teeth, and wild eyes that searched the woods for her. She woke in a small guest bedroom, stranger, in a strangers home. Her mind did a double take for a moment. There had been dark things in that dream, but there had also been something else...something green.
David?
|4|
Kellog let them stay in the small partitioned room on the second floor. Dorian slipped into one of the fur lined bags on the floor, stripped. He felt a weight lift off him. In the other room Lady Kay and the others were still talking. He couldn't handle that, exhaustion had set in, carved a hole into his side. Just as he drifted into sleep's clutches a warm body slipped into the bag with him. He spun, the dead black rot on his side screaming.
Cherry's face stared back at him. For the first time he saw apprehension there.
"What are you doing-"
She raised a finger to his lips. "Shush." Her leg slid over his till she straddled him. "Don't fall asleep on me." Her hips pushed against his.
"I don't think you've gotta worry about that."
|5|
Kellog stopped mid cigar puff. He cocked his head towards the partitioned room. Lady Kay followed his gaze. "They better not be ****ing in there." He grunted.
Kay smiled. "I think you're too late to stop that."
Linear Mode
