Adult-FanFiction.org : Games

Dawn of the Dragon	By : RotSeele Category: +S through Z > World of Warcraft Views: 3875 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own World of Warcraft. I do not make any money from this story.

Chapter List
- 10
- 11
- 12
Eleven
Dashiell sat in one corner of the "common" room, half listening to the conversation taking place around him and half listening to the memories flitting across his mind's eye. The Mage they had captured had piqued his interest, so he had done what he could to be kind to her. It was certainly more than the Dark Shaman had done. Her voice was sweet, like a summer breeze, and it definitely had steel in it when she was arguing with Khargol about the orc's plan for the former Warchief.
Dashiell really couldn't care less about the fate of the world or the fate of Go’el so long as there was a profit to be made somewhere, but he still couldn't get the look the Mage had given him out of his mind. She was genuinely one of those people who put the good of all before the good of one. When he'd eavesdropped on the conversation she'd had the Khargol, he couldn't help but start wondering what kind of profit would there be to make in a world ruled by the Dark Horde? If he was with them, he might be able to live with relative ease, but if he went against them, like most of the world had done, then he'd probably be dead before he could enjoy anything he was able to earn.
Of course, the same could be said if he decided to defy Khargol and help the pretty blood elf trussed up in the back room. He could almost see it now - him, standing defiant in the face of angry, powerful Dark Shaman for about all of five seconds before the elements had their wicked way with him. The rogue let out the breath he'd been holding in one long sigh.
Dashiell closed his eyes and thought back to his own conversation with the Mage. Lor'themar Theron had fought. Fought to free Orgrimmar and the Horde from the grip of a madman who wanted nothing more than to rule the world and destroy any who opposed him, even if the ones who opposed him were his own. Dashiell hadn't believed Lor'themar was capable of such a display of blatant disobedience. He'd always tried to lead his people down the path of hidden resistance, not a path that brought them into the line of fire. He'd always thought Lor'themar a coward, one who did what he could to not fight. When he'd been little, he'd looked up to Lor'themar. Now, though, Dashiell couldn't even bring himself to think positively about the man who was his older brother.
Dashiell Theron scrubbed his face with the palms of his hands and tried not to sigh too loudly. He never thought that his brother would actually do something that would help the world. He hadn't spoken to Lor'themar in years, and wondered if Lor'themar thought him dead. Better for it, considering the kind of life Dashiell was leading. If Lor'themar knew that he was helping a bunch of Dark Shaman who were trying to destroy the world Lor'themar just got done saving...
But then, Dashiell didn't care what Lor'themar would say. It wasn't like the older man had really done anything to convince Dashiell the world he was living in now was any better than the one awaiting in the future. He could just leave it to the heroes of Azeroth to deal with the trouble about to explode all over the planet. He could do a lot of things in regards to the challenge steamrolling his way.
Sometimes I hate my life and this thing called a conscience. Dashiell thought.
He rose and made his way toward the back room which had been turned into a makeshift prison to hold the Mage that seemed to irritate Khargol so much. As Dashiell approached the room, a feeling of wrongness set in. He slowed his steps and quieted his noises. He crouched low and vanished from sight before he continued to creep along the hall. When he reached the prison room he peered around the corner, not sure what to expect.
He certainly didn't expect to see the Mage free of her bonds and working to break the stone encasing her foot. He watched her for a while, fascinated. The rope that had bound her wrists had been wrought using fel magic and the hairs of a felhound, so nothing should've been able to make the rope break. Yet there it was, lying on the floor. Suddenly, the Mage stopped what she was doing and looked sharply toward the doorway. Her golden-green eyes narrowed, and for a moment, Dashiell was afraid that she'd seen him until he remembered he was invisible at the moment. Still, the way she studied the doorway made him feel like she knew someone was there, watching her. It was a few tense minutes before she looked away and returned to trying to break the rock encasing her foot.
Dashiell wondered why she was so adamant about getting free. Sure, she'd embarked on this little adventure to try and save the world; a lot of people seemed to do that lately. Danger would spring up and people would go try to put it back down. It didn't make much sense to the rogue. Why do something that's got no profit? Sure, you might find some poor defenseless critter that for some reason is carrying coin or a random piece of armor (which was just damn weird) but once you completed destroyed whatever it was you volunteered to destroy, there was nothing else you'd get in reward.
Was it for the thrill? For the feeling you were doing something good while having free reign to murder? There really wasn't much appeal to Dashiell for a job that didn't give you ample reward in either coin or gear.
He heard her let out a hiss. It didn't sound like a blood elf at all. He looked at her, and again was surprised to see her standing. Even more surprising, she was staring right at him. He was still invisible, wasn't he?
"Not going to call the alarm, rogue?"
He jumped. His cloak of invisibility fell off as he did so. He only realized she'd tricked him when he saw her smile. So he shoved his surprise down deep and pulled on a mask of indifference. "Should I? You haven't exactly escaped yet."
She tilted her head to the side. It bothered Dashiell that she seemed completely unconcerned with the fact he was standing between her and escape. It was like she was confident she could escape before he could do anything to stop her. He took a step forward.
She struck, fast and quick.
Dashiell sucked in his stomach to avoid the swipe and rolled out of range of her... "Claws?" He squeaked out. "You have claws?"
She smiled. "Claws aren't the only things I have." She sucked in a deep breath, then exhaled. A cloud of golden sand billowed out between them. Dashiell started forward and found himself slowing down as soon as those gold specks touched him. He watched her slip out the door before he could free himself from the cloud, but he soon gave chase.
She was good. Dashiell thought she could've been a rogue in mage's clothes the way she sneaked around the orcs. She also seemed to know her way around the place, because she was definitely heading for the entrance. The alarm. I should raise the alarm. But he didn't. Instead he followed her, because she intrigued him.
He caught up to her just before the main doorway opened into the afternoon sun. He grabbed her arm and spun her into the wall, pinning her there with a knife to her throat. "Is it too much to ask you to come back with me?"
Her answer was to kick him in the balls. Hard.
Dashiell howled and collapsed the moment she shoved him away from her. With tears in his eyes, Dashiell struggled to his feet and chased her into the open. She skidded to a stop suddenly and dodged left. Dashiell threw himself to the ground, barely avoiding the lighting bolt that flew over his head. Khargol stood ahead of them, his eyes narrowed and his teeth bared in a feral snarl. The Mage got to her feet and calmly brushed grass from her dress. Dashiell didn't dare move, only because he wasn't sure what was about to happen.
"You're stubborn, aren't you, girl?" Khargol spat.
"Does that bother you?" She replied calmly. Dashiell stared at her, unsure what to think. When he'd first talked to her, she'd been scared, almost desperate for him to help her. Now, she was just eerily calm, like she knew the Dark Shaman was nothing compared to her. Maybe she could do her save-the-world quest on her own after all.
"Nothing you do will stop what's coming." Khargol said. Lightning cracked around him. "It's already written in stone. Go’el will fall, and I will use him to free Garrosh."
"Nothing is written in stone." The Mage replied. "Especially not the future. That can always change."
"And how do you plan to stop me? With that fool of a rogue?"
Her head tilted to the side but she didn't look at Dashiell. Her eyes stayed on her enemy. Dashiell got to his feet and slowly came to her side. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see several Dark Shaman appearing, moving to flank Khargol.
"You think the two of us can beat four shaman?" Dashiell asked her lowly.
"Who said it would be the two of us?" She whispered. "Are you saying you're going to help me?"
Dashiell shrugged. "Why the hell not? I never really liked these guys anyway."
Now she looked at him. She couldn't tell if he was serious or not, but she decided to take him at face value. "When I tell you to, run across the bridge. Don't look back."
"You're suggesting a retreat?"
"If it took ten people to kill two Dark Shamans, what do you think two can do against four?"
She had a point there.
Khargol let out a bark of laughter. "Even if you run, I will find you. And this time, I won't give you the courtesy of chains, blood elf."
The smile she gave Khargol was razor sharp and definitely not a grin a blood elf face could, or should, make. "I'll extend you the same courtesy, Orc. The next time we meet, I will kill you."
Khargol laughed, a deep sound full of actual mirth. "I'll be looking forward to it. And when you're lying at my feet, begging me for death, I'll be sure to make it slow." Without preamble, he attacked. So did the others. Lightning arced in from all sides.
Dashiell didn't hear her signal - she shoved him hard toward the bridge and he took off running as fast as he could. He hit the bridge and saw the Wetlands beyond. He heard screaming behind him and fought the instinct to look. She was dead. She had to be.
Something soared over his head. Panic flooded his blood and he ran faster. That shadow ahead of him started getting bigger and bigger and then a giant claw wrapped around his waist. Two seconds later, Dashiell was in the air, watching the ground grow smaller and smaller. He felt ice skitter through his veins. Slowly, he turned his head and stared up at the face of a bronze dragon. One gold-green eye focused on him and the dragon's lips pulled back to reveal sharp teeth larger than Dashiell.
Dashiell didn't think he screamed louder in his entire life than he did now.
- 10
- 11
- 12
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Dawn of the Dragon