Captured Enemy (open RP)

[Ulua]

Ulua read the scroll that Warburn had handed her. Her small blood elf hands trembled.

"It be over for now, girl" Warburn said.

"You...you.. mean to let him go?" she whispered.

"Dis ting be gettin' complicated. Best you be headin to Silvermoon til da lady be needin ya again"

"Home? You want to send me home? Now?" Ulua's voice began to rise, "You will let the lyin dog free. And send me back to my city of ruin? Warburn! I am not so easily excused....I'll kill him now!" Ulua grabbed the Jawbone mace from her back. She ran from the small house on the island across to where they held Commander Leikos.

"Ulua!" Warburn stood at the door way entrance. He motioned to Gorehorn. The big beast blocked the entrance to the guildhall. Ulua ran across the courtyard at full speed, mace raised for an attack.

"Don't be raisin arms against a fellow Servent of da lady, Ulua. You be regrettin mo' dan ya be wishin, girl!" Warburn screamed across to the enraged blood elf.

Her heavy boots pulled short before Gorehorn. In a cloud of brown dirt she stood before the warrior. Panting she stared at him....Gorehorn saw the blazing tears of hate in her eyes but he was prepared to follow orders.

Moments passed in the staredown.

Then like a nervous twitch her eyes brightened. Then a smile appeared. "Oh Gorehorn... War surely brings out the devil in me". Gorehorn raised an eyebrow. His arms still crossed.

Ulua called for her talbuk, mounted and headed south.

[Baelspar]

A figure pulled itself from the shadows. His tattered robes were once made of the finest thread. The bony hand at its sleeve hem snatched out at the letter.

After scanning it, the forsaken spoke, "So, they really want him back?"

"Jah," warily spoke the troll, "dat day do. What be joo wantin' in dis, mage?"

"I should think that my prompting helped him to speak his mind," intoned the mage, "or am I wrong?"

"Oh, joo know," Warburn spoke, puffing on his pipe to gather some time for a response, "dis was da group effort. A little 'o joo. A little 'o 'lua. Somma dat Svalina. A real bruddah and sistah effort, joo know."

"Well," spoke the mage, his bony hands rubbing menacingly together, "what harm can be done if I should be 'asking' him some questions? Svalina would be there to make sure that he comes away in pristine condition."

"We be knowin' how joo think on such t'ings, mage," warned the troll. "Joo best be gettin' back to yo plants an' such."

"Getting squeamish, are we, Smoketusk?" A portal opened with the question, and the mage stepped through. Screams could be heard as it closed.

[Theotaz]

Svalina shivered. The night Elf would be gone. She still suspected wheels with in wheels, plots within plots. But then her people had been at this a long time. High elf, Dark Elf, Blood Elf..BAH!.. Elf, simply Elf. And all of them suffering from the mistakes of those long dead. Oh yes, Ashara lives.. if you call that living. Then theres the trolls. Thier single lives short, and sometime brutal, but the racial memory they have. The Trolls do remember you. Orcs. Tricked into possesion by demons, thier own world wreaked, this world invaded. The second great alliance breaking them at last, but at what a cost. The creation of the Forsaken, the sundering of the elves. The Elves corrupted! The rise of Arthus! Tauren. Calmness, something the Horde needs now. The Buring legion still lays outside the gates of this small world. And next time they came they would bring all thier strength. Sargaras him self would lead because he himself had been wounded. It would be soon. Nyx must be strong, and wise. And the lady Nyx defended no matter the cost. She tapped her wand against her side, the jewel clutched in the claw shimmered with ready energy. And go he would.. Khelio would be close, and Theo also. If things turned ugly they could extract her. Damd Khelio would consider it play. She eyed the Dark Elf as he ate. then continued keepeing her awareness focused out and around her.

[Gorehorn]

The Deathknight pretended to be unaware of his watching, as always, but the subtle flexing and testing of minute movements were unmistakable for the grizzled old warrior standing watch over the prisoner. In many ways it had struck Gorehorn as an odd twisting of fate that he would have been the one called upon to spare and even protect the life ..or unlife.. of an enemy nightelf, especially a deathknight. But twisting was what fate always did best.

Allowing a deep sigh that more resembled a bellows than that of a living thing, Gorehorn turned away from the peephole in the door and watched the discussion taking place on the otherside of the room. Warburn Smoketusk had done well to mask his feelings regarding the holding of the prisoner from most of those that serve Lady Nyx, but again, Gorehorn had seen through him.

As if thinking of him had been a summons, Warburn looked up and approached him, Aitana and the Oracle Tomoyo close behind. They had been in vigorous, sometimes loud discussions over everything from what they hoped to glean from the prisoner to methods to use.. and those that had been attempted already.

"Mastah Gorehorn," the troll drawled, always seeming at ease, regardless of teh intensity that always boiled behind the shamans eyes, " Wut be jah thoughts on dis , Mon."

Grimacing at the honorific, Gorehorn considered briefly on what tack to make his thoughts known. "Master Warburn," ugh.. none were his master but it was teh honorific of the day it seemed, " We hold in our prison a man who, regardless of his race, stood before teh forces of teh Scourge and fell. A man who was enough of a thorn that Arthas decided to raise him as a Deathknight, a spiritual torture that none here can hope to imagine, and has since sought to rejoin his people against Arthas once more. There may or may not be information held within the shell that lurks behind that door" he said, jerking his thumb over his shoulder, "but ther eis no pain or emotional torment we can inflict upon him that can compare to what he endured before he came to our hands."

As expected, each reacted differently to his statement. Warburn puffed thoughtfully on his pipe, though whether he was considering what was said or pleased to have won an argument was unclear. Aitana stood, obviously torn between her desire for information and her nurturing desire to haelp any who suffer, ground her teeth slightly grimacing. Obviously in a mental tug of war with herself. Tomoyo's reactions were even more unreadable as ever. This Forsaken warlock was always an enigma for Gorehorn and by far the hardest to read.

"Thats all fine and well" she stated matter of factly " but doesn't give as any indication of what your thoughts of a course of action may be." She glared at him with her most imposing glare "What do you think should be done?"

Mentally,Gorehorn groaned. Usually he was able to deflect decision making by stating blunt observations. This time Tomoyo was having none of it. "Kill him or trade him." He stated in his coldest voice, making his preferences clear. "There is no way to get anything of value from him otherwise, and the longer he is held, the more danger Nyx and her followers face."

Aitans broke in at that instant, cutting over Tomoyos' coming screech about Gorehorns use of the Lady's name without the proper respects, "He is a prisoner, we can not simply murder him!"

Again Warburn puffed and nodded, though his heart was abviously not in the decision, " Ah tinks I has tah agree wit mah tauren bruddah. He has no value uddah den tradin 'im."

This time there was no cutting back Tomoyos objections " I for one find no comfort in the idea of returning a soldier as dangerous as a deathknight back to the hands of our enemies only to have to face him on the field again in the future. Who's to say we will not be setting him loose to kill one of our own? Will that not make us share the responsibility of the death of our bretheren?"

This quickly pulled the three into discussion which Gorehorn was pleased to stay away from. This will be decided by the council. He would have his vote.

Deep down he hoped that decision would be the right one.

[Leikos Darkwood]

There was something about the whole situation that just wasn't right. Leikos had been a warrior and soldier since the days of Zin-Azshari. He had fought in countless battles and at least half a dozen wars. He understood why he was in his current predicament. He was an enemy Commander that had information. Yet, the information his captors wanted, he didn't have.

The night Warburn had questioned him in the room he had kept silent, mostly due to his hunger. Naturally, Warburn had not pressed the issue very much knowing full well Leikos' interest laid solely with his first real meal in a week. After that night, he hadn't seen the Troll shaman. He could hear muffled voices often talking outside his door or from the chambers below. Most of the time they were about him.

Several of Nyx still felt that he needed to be tortured more in order to gather the information they required. What they didn't know is that Leikos would rather die than give in. He was an old soldier with no mate, no children, and no family to speak of, besides his fellow Al'shar. Honor, pride, and duty were all he had. Despite that, the old warrior could not shake the feeling that there was something more to all of this.

As he continued contemplating, a light knock came to the door. Svalina, the Priestess, and the behemoth, Gorehorn, walked into the room. Svalina had a tray of food and water in her hands and strung over her shoulder were several bandages.

"I need to change the dressings upon your back and ribs. If you decide to be coy, Gorehorn will see to it you are not." her voice was harsh.

"Have I given you cause yet to believe I would attempt to harm you?" he asked flatly.

Her eyes narrowed, "I recall you manhandling two of our own just a few days ago."

"An eye for an eye, Priestess." Leikos removed his shirt and turned placing his hands upon the wall, "If they had simply been there to question me, I would have simply sat quietly. They put hands on me, so I did the same."

She didn't respond. Gorehorn had chuckled quietly after hearing Leikos' response. Svalina had began changing the bandages and despite their sticking to his back and bruised ribs, there was little discomfort. The Priestess was a master at her art. Leikos was positive she was also a master of the counter to her healing.

The entire dressing had taken close to fifteen minutes. Not once did Gorehorn take his eyes away from the two in front of him. Leikos knew this because he had kept an eye on the Tauren and the Elf the entire time as well. When they finished the Elf walked backwards towards the door.

"Those should hold well enough. I am surprised how quickly your wounds are healing. Something tells me there is likely more to you, little man, than we will have time to figure out."

Leikos bowed deeply to Svalina, "Thank you again for your kindness, Priestess. If you would do me one more service? If it is not too much trouble, please tell Warburn I wish to speak with him. Tell I am in the mood for conversation. And please... ask him to bring my armor with him."

[Warburn]

Tomoyo Ebonheart, Aitana Tallbear and Warburn Smoketusk were engrossed in discussion on the crude massive arm chairs by the fire oven. The chairs were constructed so they could fit the guilds Taurens but creaked loudly no matter who sat on them.
They felt safe with Yanghol and Nyght on guard duty.


Tomoyo passed the note Warburn showed her to Aitana to see.

"How interesting. Do you think Lady Nyx knows of this artifact?"

"Aye, she does"

Aitana finished reading the scroll but kept staring at it for a long moment.

Warburn continued. "I'z gots no idea how she knows, but dat ain't no suhprise. She knows much we'z don't. I tink she would like tah get 'er hands on dis ting. If it's even remotely as powahful as is told, tis way worth trading de warrior fo'. Ain't it so?"

Aitana nodded. Tomoyo thought for a second, then replied.
"You're not suggesting we follow this scrolls directions and walk into a trap are you?!"

"Well what choice do we'z 'ave? I 'ave no idea how to get in touch wit' dis Tindr fellah. Besides, de Barrens be our domain. We'z can call on ours friends de Iron Serpents, and de Blackmoon Tribe to back us up."

Tomoyo sighed. "Very well, but I don't like this! ... who should we have escort the Commander Leikos while we meet Tindr?"

"I'll find the most battle ready!" Aitana chimed in.

Just then the door upstairs opened, and shut. Hoof steps of Gorehorn shook the foundations of the building as he descended behind Svalina who barely touched the ground as she walked, almost on air.

Gorehorn walked over to the trio. He gave Warburn a loud slap on his shoulderblade.
"The prisoner asked for you, Warburn. He said he's in a talkative mood. He wants his armor back too"
And with that last sentence the massive warrior's bellowing laughter shook the room almost more then his hooves did while descending the stairs.

"I say don't take him his armor, Burny. See what he has to say first." Gorehorn added as Warburn started rolling up the scroll and handing it to Aitana as he stood up.

"Show dat to Aedellia, Mastah 'Tana. And I'll go see what he 'as tah say... finally.

After a few steps, he turned back to Gorehorn.
"Me brodduh, do me a favah, see dat locked chest ovah dere? Cans yah bring it up stairs in 10 minutes?"

Gorehorn snorted in agreement. The three of them watched hump backed Warburn's walk up the stairs.

[Theotaz]

"No, if the death knight has asked for his armor he giving his honor bond. He will tell us all that he knows openly with out holding back other then that treasonous to his people. He will tell us facts, and will venture with what he belives is truth. He is a death knight..KNIGHT being the operative word, and will insure that we recieve the agreed apon artifact before he returns to his people." Lifting her face toward Gorhound she said. "I would be honored to assist you. The house of Theotaz fully supports acts which reflect positivly apon the honor of the Horde, and Nyx." Svalina quickly rerobed, donning full battle gear. He monocle slipped in place over her head, activating with a sharp high hum. She belted on the shattered suns offensive tabbard she habitually wore. Last the great crystal mace clipped to her belt. She grabbed the Helm, Belt, Boots and Gauntlets. "If you'll grab the rest?".

[Warburn]

(( hey you guys.... he is a WARRIOR. He has been around since at least the 3rd war. Since before Arthas was the Lich King... just FYI. ))

[Gorehorn]

<< Sorry I was thrown by the eyes in teh pics. I assumed he had been a warrior and raised as a DK later. Warrior being the generic term all along rather than the class descriptive.>>

[Leikos Darkwood]

As Leikos waited for his message to be delivered to Warburn, he took a moment to glance outside the barred window of his small room. There were several groups of Horde spread throughout the small Island. Several guard towers were erected with at least one sentry atop each. There were no walls surrounding the island but several barricades were strategically placed near the sand bar leading to the main land. Under different circumstances, Leikos would have enjoyed being on the small island.

Footsteps could be heard coming from the stairs outside the room. Leikos placed a chair opposite is own and then seated himself. A few moments later Warburn entered the room. Leikos motioned towards the seat, silently. He could tell Warburn was slightly reluctant. The Troll shaman examined the chair momentarily then, after he was satisfied there was nothing dangerous, took his seat.

Leikos stared at the Troll shaman for several long moments. Warburn gazed hard at Leikos, never flinching. It humored him. Over the course of many generations, Kaldorei and Trolls had turned from passive allies to bitter enemies. He wondered if they had more in common than either race would like to admit.

Warburn grunted, obviously agitated, “De Priestess be sayin’ youz be wantin’ ta talk. So talk.”

“So I did,” replied Leikos, “You and I are two sides to the same coin, I believe. We both want to maintain sanctity and security for our peoples. Thus we are both here in the same situation with different perspectives.”

Warburn did not respond but Leikos could tell he was contemplating the statement.

“I don’t expect you to trust me, Shaman, but I’m going to ask you to anyways.”

Leikos waited a moment then when he believed Warburn was ready he began the retelling of the events that had led up to the current situation.

“A few months back, I was summoned by my General, Shandris Feathermoon, to investigate several attacks by members of the Horde upon our Priestess, Tyrandae Whisperwind, and the acting Arch-druid, Fandral Staghelm. They were vicious attacks but something was odd about them. We found evidence that there was a third party involved. This third party was responsible for nearly taking the Priestess’ life. Later, we realized that other key Alliance members had also been attacked. The only clue that we had was a small burned parchment with what we know now to be the insignia of the Forsaken.”

Leikos paused a moment to allow the information to sink in and then continued.

“Before my agents and I had a chance to investigate further, our cities fell under siege by none other than the Scourge. I was forced to call off my investigation and rally the Alliance War Council to combat the Scourge. As you know both our armies and your own were called in full force to aid against the Scourge threat in Northrend. I was sent to Icecrown, after securing the Tundra and the Grizzly Hills, and commissioned as a battlefield commander upon the Skybreaker. News of both the High Lord and the Younger’s death reached my ears about half a day after it had happened. My fellow Al’shar Wardens and I rallied our forces and joined Varian Wrynn in the assault in Undercity against Putress and Varamatharis. And we know how that ended. The Horde and Alliance have been at each other’s throat ever since.”

“Diz be ah interesting tale but whatz dis be ‘avin ta do wid our current situation?” Warburn asked.

Leikos nodded, “It has everything to do with where we are now. Shortly after the Undercity incident was quelled, our Oracle fell to sickness. In her feverish state, she had premonitions dictating a great evil. All the answers we had uncovered in recent months pointed to the Undeads’ involvement.”

“But howz ya figya de Undeads ya be lookin' far be the Forsaken?” asked Warburn.

“Evidence pointing in their direction, of course,” Leikos answered, “You see we Al’shar are information gatherers. We work from the Shadows and maintain the balance of things. As this situation seemed to be progressing, we were forced to send out scouts to investigate further. Two of our agents overheard a rumor in the Ebon Hold, which led us to Booty Bay. We found information there, from what we believed a reliable source, that the Steam wheeled Cartel had been hired for a massive construction project in the Underctiy.”

Leikos paused a moment noticing a confused look upon Warburn’s face. The Shaman said nothing so Leikos continued.

“When the information about this was brought to our attention, I had not choice but to investigate it. So I led a small scouting party of Al’shar and Kingship loyalists into Northern Laredo to investigate. We had no intention of attacking any of the settlements or the Undercity. It was meant to be a quiet investigation. Instead we found you and your army around us. As we retreated and made our reports, it was found that no one had uncovered anything during the search. So I was forced to rally another larger force to investigate. Two weeks after the original group I led another force, much larger than the first, through the Foothills into Silver pine Forest. That is where the first of the battles began. As we continued on, we realized you had rallied yet again, to thwart our search.”

“Youz be wrong, Commando. We be rallying’ ta stop ya from laying’ waste ta Undercity,” chided Warburn.

Leikos shook his head, “That was not our original intention. And if you remember correctly, I never led my forces into the Undercity but I did need to investigate the ruins.”

Warburn took a long puff from his pipe and nodded, “Maybe, maybe naut. Go on, den.”

“You know what transpired that day as much as I do but something that troubles me still is the appearance of the Burning Blade Cultists. You see, during the battle my agents spotted two Burning Blade Cultists leaving the battlefield. As things progressed another of my agents managed to follow the two to another group of three Cultists waiting in a glade just outside of Brill. When he questioned them, the original two attacked him. He managed to slay them but the other three retreated to the Brill Zeppelin. They boarded with no effort. No guards attempted to stop them and no one questioned them. My agent was forced to retreat as the town guards spotted him.”

Warburn took another long puff from his pipe and continued listening.

“So I led my small squad into Durotar, suspecting to find clues to the appearance of the Burning Blade Cultists. All I found was an ambush waiting for me, which still remains unclear to me.”

Warburn sat for several long moments, contemplating what had been said. It was a great deal of information to take in.

“Why naut jus’ tell us dis when we first put you in de cell. Woulda saved ya lots a pain, mon.” the shaman asked.

A stern look appeared upon Leikos’ face, “Because I will not be forced into such a position by anyone. Not you, your men, nor anyone, will ever break this Old Kaldorei’s vigil.”

A raspy chuckle came from Warburn, “Ya be a stubborn old goat, Commando. I be givin’ ya dat.”

“Indeed,” Leikos replied, “Now that I have answered your questions, I have questions of my own, Warburn. What do you know about the Horde’s involvement with the Burning Blade? I need to be informed. Your answers may very well enable us to prevent another war…”