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Abducted Hope	By : Quicksilver.Maiden Category: +S through Z > World of Warcraft Views: 27551 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: World of Warcraft is owned by Blizzard, and I do not make any money from writing fanfiction using their world.

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Saerah pulled her cloak tighter around herself, and continued to walk down the road. She had no idea where she was, but the jungle pressed her from all sides.

She thought dismally of Elwynn Forrest, and then of Westfall. That was where she should be, she reflected, but her big brother has insisted in his letter that she board a ship to Theramore, and head to him in the Barrens. He said he had something to show her, but that he couldn't come to Stormwind. He said she would be safe as long as she followed the road, and didn't attract attention to herself. She hadn't had enough money to finance a trip down to Booty Bay, and then across to Ratchet, though the ticket salesman had said it would be safer by far.

Saerah had no idea where she was, at that moment. She had thought the Barrens were somewhere West by Southwest of Theramore, but the roads were never strait and she has wound up much too far south. Her ability to sense and avoid animals was the only thing that had saved her life, as she crept up the road. Her brother was a fighter, pure and simple. He lunged into combat with fury and strength on his side, and never looked back. She had wanted to be like him, as a child, but the trainers in Elwynn Forrest had told her she was too lithe to be a warrior, and had trained her instead as a huntress.

At her side loped Ginta, a swift young coyote she had befriended on the banks of the river just into the Territory of Westfall. The wolf she had been assigned when she was training was growing old and lame from traipsing around the forest, she she had released him near Goldshire, knowing the innkeeper there had a hidden soft spot for animals and would keep him fed long into his old age.
Ginta whined, hungry, but Saerah could not allow him to go hunt, even alone. The creatures in the valley around them were far too large and powerful to risk a confrontation with.

The path she was following began to grow even narrower, and the forest encroached.

"How far should I continue?" she asked herself again. "He said it was vital, but what if I'm going the wrong way?"

A nasty, growling, gravelly voice from behind her caused Saerah to jump high in the air. Spinning around, her crossbow leaped into her hand.

"Lost, little one?" it ground out. She recoiled in fear from the figure of a Forsaken man with horrid stitching all over his face and a Power level far too high for her to guess.

She turned to run, but found herself frozen.

"Some children never do learn," she heard him chuckle. Tears pricked at her eyes, but her eyelids were frozen shut, and she was unable even to cry.

Ginta's yelp sounded in her left ear, and then she heard a low chanting behind her. Before she knew what was happening, darkness had claimed her mind.

Saerah awoke with a start. "Ginta?" she called mentally. There was no reply.

A shiver passed over her, and she realized she was freezing. It was the middle of winter, and the air was probably somewhere between fourty and fifty degrees, and very humid with a somewhat salty, metallic tang.

Her leather armour, her weapons, even her shoes had been taken from her. All that remained were her woolen underbreeches that came barely passed her knees and a matching shirt. She shivered again, though the air in the room was mercifully still.

A strange sensation covered her then, a prickeling, needeling sensation that quickly escalated as a roaring inferno of pain blossomed over her entire skin. Several seconds later, she rose from the floor, gasping and blinking away tears as she finally took in her surroundings.

She was in some sort of cell made entirely of stone. There was no rug, nor even any straw on the ground to retain any heat. The space was fairly large for one person, but, she noticed with a start, she was not the only occupant.

In one corner, the corner behind where she had awoken, a gigantic sleeping figure lay curled up, back to her. She wasn't immediately sure what it was, except that it was covered in brick-red fur.
A gravely chuckel drew her eyes to the cell door, a steel monstrosity thicker than her hand was wide with bars set in the small window it sported.

The Forsaken man she had seen before her capture was cackeling gleefully, though the sound he produced was more reminicent of an ancient house groaning beneath a heavy layer of deep snow.
"I wasn't sure I would find a new plaything so quickly, but I'm glad to see you're heartier than the last one. Stupid little blood elf, screamed her fool head off when I hit her with that spell."
"What are you doing? Why did you bring me here?" she asked accusingly, and with a note of stray panic filtering through her composure.

A nasty smile of rotten teeth stretched across his stitched face with a sound like dried leather stretching. "I want to feel you," his dry husk of a voice dipped lower, and she withdrew from the door in revulsion. He laughed again, louder and more grating.

The figure in the corner sat bolt upright, eyes gleaming in terror and rage, and aerah realized it was a Tauren.

The large Bull bellowed and leaped to the door, one massive hand pushing through the bars, only to be stopped at his forearm, the rest of his appendage too large to fit through. He grunted in anger and frustration, then turned to face her.

He bared his teeth to her, blowing a huffing breath through his nostrils, then turned his back to her and shuffeled back to his corner. He turned and sat down, but resolutely ignored Saerah.
"Time to play," came the voice from beyond the door, and Saerah saw the Tauren cover his head with both hands, obviously trying to protect himself. The Forsaken Shadowpreist's voice chanted lowly from the opening in the door, and Saerah tried to prepair herself for the pain she had experienced upon awakening, but it did not come.

Instead, the Tauren's massive hooves sounded upon the stone floor, much more loudly than they had before. She turned to look at him, and was startled to see a menacing, black smoke rising from his pupils to curl around his upright horns. He crossed the space between them in two large steps and grasped her around the shoulders. His hands were so large, they restrained her arms down to her elbows, and his arms were so long, her legs could not reach to kick his body. He subdued her as easily as she would have done to a naughty four-year-old.

Saerah glanced at the hideous priest, and was starteled to see the horrid man standing stock-still, with acrid, black smoke rising from the glowing sockets where his eyes should have been. Her mind ground to a halt, and she looked back to the Tauren, realizing that his body was acting according to the wishes of the twisted, living corpse outside their cell. She screamed.
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Abducted Hope