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Beneath thy Wings	By : gothkoneko Category: +S through Z > World of Warcraft Views: 7589 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own WoW or profit from writing this story.

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Beneath thy Wings
           Chapter 7

The sky was clear, not a single cloud in sight with the sun blazing down hotly on the bustling port town of Booty Bay. The salty air from the sea couldn’t detour the thick humidity of that of the jungle that cling to your body like a second skin. For Gromjil this type of weather was nothing and felt like more like home to him then the cold, frigid climate of Northrend. It was a welcoming change.
                Gromjil sauntered into the Salty Sailor Tavern, it smelled of liqueur, smoke and sweat and a faint scent of wood from the timber. His eyes adjusted to the dim darkness of the tavern, scanning the room, table to table as he made his ways through the crowd of drunken sailors and adventurers. He turned the corner and walked up the stairs to the second floor and quickly scanned the tables where he noticed a stubby goblin sitting in the corner of the room, smoking a pipe and nursing a drink. He sauntered up to the goblin which looked up to gaze at the towering Troll.
                “Ya looking for someone bub?” He asked inhaling his pipe and releasing a long wisp of smoke.
                Gromjil nodded. “Aye, I be looking for a Captain Moates?”
                The Goblin set down his pipe and gave the troll a toothy grin, his golden teeth glimmering slightly in the candle light. “You found him lad. I be Capt’n Moates and ye must be Mr. Gromjil?”
                Gromjil pulled out a chair and sat on the other side of the table, nodding to the captain. “I got your request,” he pulled out a piece of worn parchment sliding it to the goblin that took it and read it. “I still don’t understand the details of this … request.”
                Captain Moates took a swig of his grog before he carefully regarded the troll in front of him. “It’s quite simple really lad,” he said. “My ship needs crew and she needs good crew for this little adventure.”
                “But why do you need a Rogue?”
                Captain Moates hmm’ed. “I’m not requesting you solely on your swashbuckling skills. No, no but more of a bodyguard to protect the ‘package’ if anything goes astray.”
                “May I inquire to what this ‘package’ is?”
                “Now that depends on your answer lad.” Moates replied, tapping his pipe against the table. “All I can say this package is going to cause a lot of trouble for myself but the reward is hefty.”
                Gromjil sat back and crossed his arms and pondered his decision.
                “Fine den I’ll take you up on this lil’ adventure of yours.” The troll rogue leaned forwards, his voice barely a whisper. “So what is da package?”
                Moates lit up his pipe inhaling deeply before replying. “It be a Night Elf Druid.” The goblin waved off Gromjil’s look of disbelief. “I know, I know sounds like nothing that special however, he carries with him an amulet that these cultist’s want. Don’t ask me why they want it but they want it bad and he’s paying a lot for us to get him to the Twilight Highlands.”
                Gromjil’s eyebrow rose in curiosity. “Twilight Highlands … that’s dangerous territory we’ll be heading in. Dare I say even suicidal?”
                The goblin captain laughed. “Aye it be lad. But we just be dropping off the ‘package’ on the shores after that he be out of our hands.” Moates sat back in his chair, exhaling slowly a plume of smoke. “I should also input that that Alliance is also seeking him out, he doesn’t want to be found by them nor the Horde.”
                “That seems rather curious as well.” Gromjil said.
                The goblin shrugged. “It be none of my business to the whys of my clients Mr. Gromjil. Just a precautionary warning.” He tapped his pipe again and hopped down from his chair. “We leave at night Mr. Gromjil; I would take this time to recoup your energy.”
                The troll rogue watched the goblin hobble down the stairs disappearing into the rowdy crowd. He rested his chin on his clasped hands thinking and pondering every possible scenario that could go wrong. With a weary sigh he stood up to adjourn to his sleeping quarters for the day.

                *****

                Night fell rather swiftly for Gromjil who stood on the dock looking out towards the serene ocean; the moon shone bright and full, glimmering on the ripples of the ocean. The pure serenity of this scene washed over the troll, moments like these he wondered why he gave up sailing this majestic sea.
                He sauntered up the wooden ramp and boarded the ship, watching idly the riff raff known as crew members hoisting cargo down into the hulls below and other miscellaneous chores. He spotted Captain Moates on the captain’s deck with a female arguing. Gromjil’s eyebrow quirked up     questioning, taking his place just slightly under the deck making himself looks busy as he overheard their conversation.
                “If we go that route lass, we will hit the Alliance fleet more than once!” Moates bellowed. “I will not be risking lives o f my crew on a woman’s whim!” His fist slammed down on the table rattling the oil lamp.
                “The Alliance and Horde are still under a peace treaty!” She yelled back. “They will not attack us unless we stray in their territory. You say you don’t want to risk the lives of your crew yet the shortest way is the most suicidal!”
                “The kraken has not been seen for age’s lassie. Nor have any sailor’s reported anything on that side of the coast!” He jabbed his finger on the map on the eastern coast of the Eastern Kingdom. “This is our route lass whether you like it or not! MY ship! MY orders!”
                “We are paying you to take us there safely!” She huffed. “Take the long way Captain Moates or we shall be taking BACK our money and find us another capable captain.”
                Captain Moates scoffed. “Lass you are insane.” He rolled up the map. “Fine we’ll do it your way. However, I’m inclined to ask for an additional fee for your suicidal route miss and additional supplies for this journey.”
                The blonde woman nodded. “We shall pay for the needed extra supplies rest assures.” The woman pulled out a bag of gold and tossed it on the table. “I hope this will be sufficient enough?”
                The captain bounced the bag in the palm of his hand lightly, weighing the purse for its worth. “Hmm yes I think this will do well Ms. Lockhart.”
                “Then we have an accord?”
                “Against my better judgment, yes.”
                “Very good.” Lockhart walked down the stairs catching Gromjil’s eye but continued walking down to the cabin.
                ‘This was getting to be very interesting.’ Gromjil mused.

                ****

                It felt like he was sailing among the stars in the sky. The sea glittered with million stars mirroring the sky above, as the ship sailed calmly. The wind was fair but breezy enough to fill the sails of wind. It was like a dream, by Elune it was just breath taking. It was better than cooped up in that small cabin which made the Night elf very claustrophobic.
                He heard the familiar clinking of metal greaves behind him, without turning he greeted his guest. “Evening Swiftni.”
                “Good evening Baelthal.” She walked up to the Night elf druid leaning against the rail, her blonde hair gently swaying in the wind. “This is very beautiful.” She whispered.
                “Indeed.” Baelthal agreed. “It’s been a while for you haven’t it?”
                Swiftni sighed. “Sadly yes. I think I spent most of my young life behind stone walls and courtyards training when all I really wanted was to be free to explore and do what I want.”
“Being a Paladin is a high honor my dear.” The druid said. “It also holds a lot of responsibility.” He smirked a little hearing her groan.
                “Please do not remind me Baelthal.” She gazed down at her gauntlets. “Even though I’m doing this as a favor to Jaina I feel like I’m betraying my country.”
                The druid gently placed his hand on her shoulder. “I know Swiftni however; if I was to stay with Alliance it would only place them in more danger.” His other hand clasped the amulet that hung around his neck. “Death follows this amulet and with the Twilight Hammer activities being more extreme now I fear that my premonitions will come true.”
                “How did you acquire this dangerous amulet Baelthal,” she asked seriously. “It doesn’t seem like you to take such high risks.”
                Baelthal chuckled. “It’s a sad tale my dear. This amulet holds a dragon, well, a corrupted dragon powers. I took the human form of this dragon in hopes that I could save it from its dark fate. Alas, the sea took the child claiming the only goodness it possessed.” He gazed down to the glittering amulet where dark text skittered over the surface. “Now I fear that the cultists what the darkness back to achieve whatever they are planning.”
                “Why didn’t you leave it with Jaina, she could have protected it from their sights.” She questioned.
                The Night elf’s face grew grim. “It corrupts.” He replied. “Those who hold his amulet are at the mercy of the darkness within. Even I feel its influential sway tugging away at my consciousness. That’s why I must take it away from the leaders of the Horde and Alliance.”
                “You are taking it into the heart of those cultists’s land Baelthal!” She cried out. “How is that any safer?!”
                “I feel ancient powers in that direction.” He simply replied. “I feel that whatever is there can aid me in my plight. ‘Tis be better than hiding away like a coward and let the shadowy influence of this medallion seep into our lands. We do not need even more death from a dooming fate.”
                “Well I pray to the light that it does not pass.” She gazed up to the sky. “Since the expedition to Northrend and the tragedy of the Wrath Gate we do not need to lose even more people.”
                Baelthal sighed wearily. “The sad truth is as long as Horde and Alliance continue their campaign to annihilate each other more people will continue to lose their lives.”
                “A meaningless war just because we cannot co-exist with each other.” She said solemnly. “Yet the Cenarion Circle and The Earthen Ring prove that we can indeed put aside our differences and live in relative peace.”
                The Night elf smiled forlornly. “Yet as you can see that they are made of elders mostly, those who have lived through the tragedy of many wars and lost many friends and family and had had enough bloodshed during their life.” He subconsciously touched the scars on his arms as he spoke, “The young ones only know now of war and fear. They fight to avenge friends, family, and comrades just like the Horde does. It’s a never ending cycle of vengeance and hate.” He turned to the female Paladin gazing at her sadly. “Even in the name of peace we do the unspeakable.”
                Swiftni had to turn her gaze from Baelthal’s sorrowful eyes feeling her heart become heavy with unbearable guilt and sadness. “Yes, that is true Baelthal. Not even those who fight for peace is free of the blood that stains the land or the countless corpses we litter across the fields.” She turned around looking up to the endless starry sky. “What are we to say what we do is just and good even when we say it’s for peace?”
                “Only Elune knows child.” He whispered. “And I pray she has mercy upon us all.”
                Unknown to them a shadowy figure slinked back below deck.

                ****

                Days passed with relative boredom till the bright sunny weather had become gray and looming and the sea’s started to stir with the winds that were starting to pick up. The crew members were tying anything that could move down, furling the sails so the cutting winds couldn’t tear them asunder. Waves crashed into the ship with no remorse washing upon the deck with sweeping forces, making those not prepared crash against the side of the ship and fatally be washed abroad.
                Captain Moates stood gripping his admiral’s hat and the rail on the captain’s deck shouting orders to the chaotic and dazed crew. “Hurry and furl up those sails! We don’t want them like tattered sheets!” A rogue wave washed up on deck making the captain slip slightly from the force. “Mr. Gromjil!” He yelled, regaining his footing. “Make sure those safety lines are secure!”
                The Troll was already at the main mast tying down the multiple throngs of rope securely. He gripped a few throngs practically slipping down the deck and handing safety lines to those without. The ship lurched making the crew stagger, grabbing whatever they could for support as the salty water rushed over the deck. Gromjil spat out the water, his hands raw as he pulled himself up only to be knocked down from a violent wave.
                “Looks like the seas aren’t with us this day!” He cried out in disdain which was followed by scream of terror, his finger pointing off to the side of the ship, “Kraken!”
                Just as he uttered the word, long, thick tentacles swung out splintering the main mast into pieces, spraying shards of wood everywhere as it fell into the ocean. The crew scrambled to obtain any weapon they could to fend off the opposing tentacles. Another tentacle slammed down heavily on the deck, splitting the deck nearly in two however, the ship was still fully intact. Other tentacles though were shooting out of the water grabbing anyone they could and tossing them over board or dragging them down into a watery grave.
                Gromjil lopped off a tentacle which was curled around a crew member who landed with a heavy thud. The troll rogue was desperately trying to free those he could from the tentacles clutches though he thought sullenly it was going to be in vain if they did not do something about the actual assailant. He hurled a spear through another tentacle, its blood splattering everywhere and a eerie low pitched howl accompanied the fierceness of the wind.
                “By the light, what is that?” A female voice cried out making Gromjil turn to see the blonde Paladin, sword in hand, looking up in terror at the monstrous tentacles.
                “It be a Kraken miss!” He shouted coming next to her and her emerging Druid friend. “Get the crew out of its slimy grip! We can’t afford to lose anymore men!”
                Swiftni nodded in acknowledgement, her sword poised for action as she ran into the fray, lopping off and wounding whatever tentacle grazed her sights. Baelthal had shape shifted into his cat form to assist her, his claws raking against the leathery, scaly tentacles leaving bloodied wounds on them.
                The battle raged for what seemed like hours. Rain continued down upon them in torrents, lightening flashed across the blackened sky with ferocity and the waves kept on crashing into the ship with no remorse. The ship itself was in disarray, broken masts, tattered sails which had unfurled were flapping in the wind and pieces of the deck were cratered and ragged. The Captain was at the helm, his small arms straining to keep the ship from veering into the reef or any sandbanks.
                Gromjil grunted as a tentacle lunged at him, making him lose his footing slightly but was able to wound the offending tentacle making it shrink back in pain. His red hair was matted against his skin and his clothing soaked with blood and rain. “I don’t know how much more we can take of this!” He cried out to the Captain.
                Captain Moates looked down to see the flurry of unrelenting tentacles still attacking and the condition of his ship. The cannons were useless in this weather and would probably end up killing more crew members and possibly making more holes in his ship. He also noticed with grim realization that the life boats were lost to the sea. Moats didn’t have a chance to reply for a grimy tentacle shot out from the water and hurled itself against the goblin, throwing him into the side of the ship with a sickening thud.
                The ship pitched to the side unexpectedly, as it veered off to the side sharply. Gromjil gripped the side of the broken mast to stop himself from being tossed into the side of the ship. Waves washed over the deck taking whatever was not secure with it back to the sea. The blonde woman and elf too were gripping the mast for dear life trying not to be washed overboard.
                The elf cried out suddenly, his body lifting upwards as a tentacle coiled itself around his midsection. He held his grip strong on the mast, his fingernails digging into the wood.
“Baelthal!” Swiftni cried out reaching out for him only to grasp air. A waved knocked her down and she gripped the mast, trying not to lose her grip and be lost to the sea.
Gromjil lunged forward, skewering his sword through the tentacle only able to partially cut the offending limb off which loosened its hold on the elf slightly. The troll outstretched his hand to the elf as he fell to the ground. Just before the elf could grab his hand another tentacle lashed forward and grabbed the druid. Gromjil tried to lunge forward to grab him however, all he managed to grab was the amulet as it snapped off his neck. He watched as the druid was dragged down to his watery grave.
Swiftni watched in utter horror as the elf disappeared into the ocean. Her heart sank and with a cry of fury she rushed out and greeted every tentacle with her blade, abandoning her own safety in her rage.
Gromjil stared silently down at the amulet which he held loosely in his hand. The sound of people’s scream seemed to become barely audible as if he was under water. He gazed up to see more tentacle rise from the depths and was high above the ship. A cold chill ran through his being as he watched them descend rapidly toward him and the ship and realized he might die at this moment.
And his world became black.

****

                He had no idea how he got here.
                He had no idea why he was still alive.
                But he did know he was in an undead encampment just by the mere smell of it. His body ached from a different various places, his skin felt clammy as if he was still wet. His eyes slowly opened, his sight meeting the decaying stone ceiling, and flickering torch light which casted abstracted shadows. Groaning he slowly sat up, a wave of dizziness hit him making him feel nauseous.
                “Ahh the mystery guest is awake at last!”
                Startled Gromjil’s eyes flickered to the undead female entering the room. “Where am I?” he asked groggily.
                “Silverpine, at the Sepulcher camp,” she replied setting down a case of supplies on a nearby table. Noticing how the troll was holding his head and looking pale she turned to him. “Feeling unwell?”
                Gromjil grunted in response. “Feel dizzy and nauseous.” He rubbed his temples groaning slightly.
                The undead female hummed as she poured the rouge a goblet of water and handed it to him. “Well you have been out for a few days,” she explained. “All that sea water isn’t very nice on your body especially when you swallow a large amount.”
                Gromjil nodded his thanks as he took the goblet of water and drank it gratefully. “Was there anymore survivors?” He asked, dreading the answer yet still slightly hoping.
                “If there were I wouldn’t know.” She shrugged. “You were the only one that washed up in this vicinity of the coast.” She placed a bundle of clothes down beside the troll. “Your clothes were pretty tattered so here are some new ones.”
                He nodded his thanks to her realizing he was only wearing a pair of loose linen pants. “I’m in your debt undead.”
                She waved him off. “I don’t plan on collecting it troll.” She gave him a crooked smile, well as much as she could for her jaw was nothing but bone. “For the Horde and all that.” She started to walk up the stairs to give him some privacy so change.
                Gromjil warily and on unsteady legs slowly dressed himself. He parted the clothes and noticed that the medallion was nestled among the clothing. He picked it up, examining the interlacing design and the dark scrawling lettering. He remembered the brief discussion that the elf and human had on the ship and vaguely wondered if the human survived. This was an evil trinket. It would be best to be kept hidden until he could figure out what to do with it. Slipping it around his neck he pulled on his shirt and leather jerkin and shakily walked up the stone steps.
                The smell of wet earth and decay assaulted his nostrils. The air was dank and damp and mist clung to the grass like webbing. He couldn’t tell if it was early morning or midday from the natural gloom that saturated this place. He spotted the female healer by the apothecary discussing something trivial. He walked up to her and she turned around smiling.
                “Well they aren’t the latest of high fashion but least they fit.” She chuckled noticing how mismatched the clothing looked on the troll.
                “Aye,” he agreed. “I was never one for being fashionable.” He replied in good humor. “I need to get to Orgirmmar in haste.” He said.
                “Unfortunately the bat handlers are busy with a mission at this current time.” Her finger curled under her chin in thought. “You could take the coffin wagon back to Undercity.” She offered.
                Gromjil looked at her skeptical. “Coffin wagon?”
                “I know it’s not what you would want to ride in however, there are little means of transportation at this time since we have our hands full with this worgen problem.” She pointed down the path. “They usually stop at the end there to ask if there are anymore pickups.”
                The troll nodded grimly. “Thank you for everything.” He said gratefully.
                She smiled. “It’s a pleasure to help the Horde, even ones washed up like driftwood on my shores!” She laughed.
                Gromjil smiled and tilted his head and headed down the path to wait for the coffin wagon.

                ***

                The journey was uneventful. He was now in Durotar with the hot sun basking him in its ever bright rays. Now baffled he stood behind a cluster of people outside the gates of Orgimmar who were shouting at the guards who blocked their way. He saw a guard ask a commoner for papers and to be subjected to a search.
                “Those accursed cultists!” A female goblin spat. “Since they came here everything has been going crazy! Now we are to be subjected like cattle to these searches.” Her foot tapped the ground impatiently. “My business isn’t going to run itself! Hurry, hurry!”
                Cultists? Seems the situation has only gotten worse since he had left. Even worse, he had no papers on him to declare who he was since he was a rogue you usually don’t want your enemies to know who you are if you are caught. He swore under his breath as a guard came his way with a stoic expression.
                “Papers.” He stated his hand out stretched and waiting.
                “Ain’t got any mon.” He replied. “Rogues don’t carry papers.” He explained as he saw the orc looks slightly confused. “Listen if you find Kaijin – a fellow rogue and my partner – he can get you the papers you require.”
                “Name.”
                “Gromjil.”
                The guard turned and walked back to the Kor’Kron guards at the entrance and was probably relaying his information he just told him. He watched as one of the Kor’Kron came up to him, his expression obscured by his helmet.
                “Come with me.”
                “All right mon.” He nodded and followed the burly guard. They soon joined by another guard who took his position behind the troll as they entered the city.
                He didn’t know what to expect. Assumption was they were taking him to the War chief or taking him to the cells or trying to find Kaijin. None of those were really correct for the next thing he knew as soon as they reached a secluded area his world went black yet again.

                ***
                He lay in his cell with a dazed look in his eyes. The drug was starting to wear however; his body was still being unresponsive to him. He recalled bits and pieces of Kaijin and Garrosh having a rather violent exchange of sorts. He didn’t know if this was a dream or not, it felt too surreal.
                Gromjil heard the heavy, metal door groan as it was pushed open and the clinking of metal armor echo through the room. He looked up to see Garrosh Hellscream standing before his cell with a very smug expression on his face.
                “Well I think you should count your blessings troll,” he said snidely. “With you I can control Kaijin to my every beck and whim and he won’t dare question or defy my orders.”
                “What do you mean?” Gromjil hoarsely asked.
                “He has sworn his loyalty to me all because he doesn’t want his ‘lover’,” he spat, “killed or hurt.” Garrosh laughed. “How touching in that! Weak fool!”
                Gromjil could only stare in disbelief.
                “Another thing you should consider.” He said. “If you even dare to attempt to escape, I will kill your whore without a second thought.” He crouched down, looking Gromjil in the eyes. “You don’t want your whore killed do you?”
                If he could spit he would have, right in Garrosh’s smug face. With much regret he agreed to these atrocious terms. Not because he wanted to save his ‘whore’ as Garrosh put it, but to save his partner.
                “Excellent!” Garrosh laughed maliciously, standing up again and strides out of the cell without another word.
                Gromjil’s heart felt heavy and torn. This was indeed a very complicated situation they were both in. If he knew Kaijin as well as he did, he would bide his time to strike at the right time. For now, he might as well recoup his strength and be ready for when it happens.

***
                To answer your question Dxinsider I play Horde on The Forgotten Coast. :)
                Thank you all for the review and rate ups!
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Beneath thy Wings