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Shattered	By : Koori Category: +S through Z > World of Warcraft Views: 8001 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own World of Warcraft, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Chapter Eighteen – Foster Conway
“And when I regained consciousness I was on the back of the horse, I drew out the beast’s life force to recharge mine …”
The old orc shook his head, taking his pipe from his mouth. “So how many Death Knights are now free of the Lich King?”
“Thousands,” Foster replied, taking a sip of the ale in his mug. He had just spent the last few hours telling his story to his orc brothers; starting at his first death until the attack in the glade, though he glossed over some of the darker moments. Glancing over, he saw Nathaniel sitting near the hearth, his gaze lost in the dancing flames. Sara had fallen asleep on a simple cot, he was glad she had a place for the moment off the hard the ground. He also noticed the meal brought in earlier was cold on Nathaniel’s plate; there was nothing he could do without shaming his brother. That was one subject he had not spoken on other than the fact he’d rescued his siblings from the Lich King’s grasp.
“A force like that could turn the tide in the North,” Skang said.
“Ebon Blade, as we call ourselves,” Foster said, “has one purpose: to destroy the Lich King …”
“And yet here you are,” Kobug said.
Foster smirked, “I will join them, in time … more pressing matters to attend to.”
Kobug knocked the ash from his pipe. “You haven’t asked …”
Foster frowned. “Is she well … and my … her son?
“The boy has the blackest hair and blue eyes like his father … he is well loved, and loves his younger sister …” The orc was watching him intently.
“He treats her well?” Foster asked, not surprised at the fact Nignath had more children and a husband.
“He does,” Kobug answered.
The Death Knight nodded, “I’m glad they both are happy and safe.”
“It took her many years to find that happiness, some days Thomas was the only reason she got out of bed.”
“That is an unusual name for an orc child,” Foster said, “My father would be honored to have his first born grandchild named after him.”
“He is an exceptional orc,” Kobug said, “soon he will pass the rites into manhood. Wants to be a warrior … his mother is trying to talk him out of it.”
Foster smiled but didn’t reply, his attention drawn to the elf nodding at the fire. He really wanted to get food into the undernourished hunter before he fell asleep. “With your leave, I believe I would like to join my sister in slumber, even the undead cannot go on forever and my body went through quite a lot today.”
Kobug grunted as he and Skang stood. “Of course,” the older orc nodded, “There are guards posted outside your door …”
“To keep us in or keep others out?” Foster asked as he approached the hearth.
“Zugzug,” Skang answered
Nodding, Foster knelt down beside Nathaniel and picked up the plate sitting nearby. As the two orcs left, Foster heard a heavy lock slide into place. Using his fingers to remove the meat from the bone of the chicken that was on the plate, Foster tore off a small piece. “Open,” he whispered. Nathaniel’s lips parted.
Hours later after the fire had died down to embers, Foster heard the lock on the door. He was resting at the foot of the cot where Sara lay, sitting up with his legs crossed. In his lap slept Nathaniel, the elf’s warm breath tickling his neck, as his fingers wrapped around the Death Knight’s ivory hair. The breath changed subtly and Foster knew he wasn’t the only one to hear the approach of another.
“Skang,” Nathaniel whispered sleepily, and then nestled close and resumed his slumber.
It was indeed the younger orc that came through the door a few moments later. Foster watched his orc brother silently. Skang raised an eyebrow and gestured to an empty bunk nearby. “We sleep better, close together,” Foster whispered in Orcish.
Nodding the orc walked over and picked up one of the cots, moving it so it rested next to Sara’s. “Let us walk, brother,” he said.
Foster stood easily and moved Nathaniel over to the bed, taking the elf’s right hand he placed it so it fell on Sara’s thick curls, the fingers wrapped around the hair. Leaning close he whispered in the slender elf ear, “I love you, Baby Brother.” A small smile crossed Nathaniel’s face as Foster tucked a blanket over him. After adjusting Sara’s quilt he picked up the rune blade resting nearby and slipped it into the sheath on his back.
“They will be safe?” Foster asked.
“Dabu,” Skang answered, “I swear on my honor.”
With one last glance over at the pair lying together, Foster found Nathaniel’s worried eyes on him. “Sleep,” he said in Common, “probably the only bed you’ll enjoy for a while.” An unreadable emotion crosses his brother’s face, but the eyes closed one more.
Following Skang outside, he was met by two orc guards. They eyed him suspiciously. “Keep them safe,” he said in Orcish, “or my wrath will make the events of yesterday look like …”
“They understand, my brother,” Skang interrupted, as he slid the bolt back into place, “come.”
They walked in quiet until they were outside the fortified camp. Skang stopped at a large boulder, and sat down. The sun was just starting to rise; it was peaceful for the moment. Foster relaxed his stance and crosses his arms, waiting.
“Your elfin brother, has eyes of a child that has seen horrors unimaginable, a veteran would have cold eyes …” the orc shook his head, “I’d seen the same in the children of the Durnholde, some recovered …”
“He is not a child, he’s killed many foes in his lifetime,” Foster said, “he will conqueror this; he just needs time …”
“And stability,” Skang said, “that is the most important factor; the vagrant life you are living does not lend itself to healing.”
“We will not roam forever; our goal is Stormwind and the family that lives outside the gates. If anyone can heal my brother it’s our parents.” Foster wondered where this conversation was going.
“We can loan you a trio of wyverns, would take months off your trip …”
“Nathaniel will not fly,” Foster said, “we will continue our journey on foot once the sun is up.”
“You said you rescued your brother and sister from the necropolis of Acherus. Your sister, though female, still has fire in her eyes … she will be a good mother to the child she is carrying. Was your brother their captive for longer than she?”
“Yes,” Foster answered, “she was imprisoned, marked as one of theirs and … raped … but she was only in their grasp for a few days, my brother … much longer. He shouldn’t be alive …”
“And why was he kept alive?” Skang asked. “If they didn’t want to turn him into one of them, why was he held?”
Foster frowned. “Forgive me, my brother, but I will not answer that.”
“But I will.”
Foster looked over at Nathaniel and sighed, Skang glanced around. “How did you get out?” the orc asked.
“The window’s lock was rusted,” Nathaniel said with a shrug. “I was kept alive in that hell because a mad man laid claim to my soul, he treated me like a plaything and he was very good at breaking his … toys.”
“And you allowed that to happen?” Skang growled at Foster.
“Even worse,” Foster whispered, “I was the weapon of choice when it came to breaking my brother … and it fed the dark hunger inside me. I did it willingly …”
“It wasn’t you any more than it was me … when I …” Nathaniel shrugged and looked away.
“No, just like you I was a puppet and just like you my strings were cut. We are our own men once again, the path we choose we do so of our own will.” Foster glanced over at the orc, “Why do you ask us this?”
“Last night when we spoke,” Skang said, “I noticed something, this one,” he gestured at Nathaniel, “was constantly looking at you for direction, it wasn’t a look of brotherly love but more of a servant asking for permission. I wanted to make sure you were doing right by him. The pale elves are our allies now …”
“My eyes are blue,” Nathaniel said, “your allies eyes are green with the fel energy they need to survive. I am none of your concern …”
The orc grunted. “The devotion you share is evident, my apologies. Your sister will worry if she wakes and finds you gone. We should return, we’ll leave after breakfast.”
“We?” Foster said raising an eyebrow.
“Zugzug,” Skang said, “your path will lead you eventually to the Badlands, I have business there … I will travel with you.”
“Badlands,” Nathaniel sighed, “why can’t we ever visit the Funny Happy Lands?”
The orc snorted and Foster allowed himself to grin. The trio walked back to the encampment the guards looked surprised and then ashamed at Nathaniel being there too. Skang chastised them as he opened the door. Within they found Sara awake and waiting. “I could have snuck out the window too,” she said.
“Then our poor guards would be cleaning up dung for the next month instead of a week,” Nathaniel said, and Foster approved of the playfulness in his brother’s voice.
“Exactly how well do you understand the Orcish tongue, elf?” Skang asked.
“I taught him all that I knew,” Foster answered, “knowing it would someday come in useful.”
“And the elf has a name,” his brother said, “it’s Nathaniel, if you’re truly traveling with us, please learn it …”
“Don’t let him fool you,” Sara said, “he’ll answer to ‘Hey You’, just as well.”
Foster chuckled as Nathaniel nudged their sister lightheartedly. Then gestured toward the cot, “you should try to sleep, Baby Brother, at least until breakfast arrived. You slept uneasily last night.”
“The nightmares await me,” Nathaniel sighed slipping off his moccasins, though offering no more arguments as he stretched out on the bed abandoned by Sara. She sat down on the other cot and took the elf’s hand in her own. To Foster’s surprise she started singing a lullaby they knew as children.

“May all your dreams bloom like daisies in the sun

May you always have stars in your eyes

May you not stop running on until your race is won

May you always have blue skies”
They left later than planned, after letting Nathaniel sleep as long as he could. The sun was high in the sky by the time Skang appeared, with freshly packed bags. “I’m sorry,” he said, “the camp grows restless with your continued stay. Uncle strongly suggests we be on our way.”
Foster nodded and walked over to the cot, gently awakening Sara from her nap and then letting her wake up their brother. Nathaniel woke slowly and stretched, his shirt pulled up to reveal his scarred abdomen. The orc behind him swore softly. “I have armor for the two of you,” he said, “plate for the woman and a simple mail outfit for the … Nathaniel.”
Sara eyed the scant breastplate in Skang’s hand. “I don’t think so,” she said coolly, crossing her arms.
The orc smirked, his tusks showing. “An orc could hope,” he said, revealing a second fuller breastplate. Sara took the pieces of armor and disappeared behind a dressing curtain.
Nathaniel eyed Foster and Skang for a moment and then with a sigh started to slip out of his simple clothing. The pale flesh was a beastly map of scars.
“Don’t be ashamed,” Skang said, pulling his own tunic off to reveal deep emerald skin, with various scars. “They are marks of honor, you’re alive … Lok'tar Ogar!”
Foster nodded his appreciation and agreement but turned his back giving his brother privacy he was silently asking for to finish, with a shrug the orc did the same.
“Done,” Nathaniel said a few minutes later.
“Same,” Sara said, stepping out from behind the curtain.
Foster felt a sense of relief at the protection his siblings now wore. With skilled hands he checked the clasps on Sara’s armor, making sure all were as it should be. Beside him Skang did the same quick check down Nathaniel’s armor, adjusting a couple of clasps on his brother’s breastplate. The orc frowned. “It’s too big, it will chafe …”
“I left my cotton shirt on,” Nathaniel said, “it will help.”
“One more thing,” the orc said, and he lifted a helm out of his sack. “I … recovered your helm, my brother.”
“Thank you,” Foster said, slipping it over his ivory locks.
“Truly frightening,” Skang said a trace of awe in his voice. “My wolf is too hurt to carry me,” he glanced over at Nathaniel and his brother blushed. “Only one of your horses survived. It will be a slow journey, are you sure I cannot talk you into a wyvern ride to the Badlands?”
Nathaniel turned the color of snow and Skang sighed. “All right the woman will ride; the rest of us are walking. Let’s go.”
“You know,” Sara said as she strapped a sword to her side. “The woman has a name too, orc.”
Skang shook his head and sighed.
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Shattered