Wildfire Riders

Fabrio Sunsworn ran into the entrance way, brushing sleep from his eyes as he drew the ties of his plush bathrobe closed. At first, he thought that someone had pounded down the door, perhaps Master Dal’Theron had returned to force them to join her in unlife. What he found was his cousin and Dame Firebloom leaning against the door.

“Is he still out there?” Dame Firebloom was looking out of a thin crack in the door since Master Sunsworn was looking out the spyhole. Her voice was slurred, most likely with drink. It was the first time he had observed her out of her armor in months

“He’s walking away.” His cousin sounded no better off. Keltyr looked slightly less rumpled at least, but that have more to do with the jacket that Fabrio saw on the floor, rather than intent.

He had not seen either of them quite this inebriated since they were initiates. Of course, in those bouts of alcohol fueled idiocy had also included Lady Elerlissa and Lord Vassh. Neither of which were involved in this. Then, his worry had been that Keltyr would find himself kicked out of the Order. Master Dal’Theron had very strict views on the behavior of those under her command. Now, he was worried about the cost a bout of public drunkenness would have to their already shaky reputation.

Dame Firebloom turned around, putting her back to the door. A drunken smile teetered across her face. Fabrio kept himself to the shadows, watching them. Keltyr closed the spyhole and looked down at her.

“I haven’t had this much fun since…” She paused, no doubt thinking as hard as her alcohol addled mind could.

“Since when?” His cousin lowered his face closer to hers and pulled the band from her hair. The secretary knew exactly where this was leading.

Before Dame Firebloom could answer, Fabrio coughed softly. Neither of them might care for the consequences, but should either of the other two older members of the order catch whiff of this, he would never hear the end of it. Two sets of eyes looked his way. He felt trapped, prey under the gaze of two deadly predators. He squeaked and then flushed with embarrassment as his cousin shook his head and chuckled.

He had heard from young Dawnstar that Dame Firebloom was acting strangely. It made sense that the young man would think that. He had never known her before she had been corrected. Still, Fabrio did not think he had ever seen his cousin act this way. The two blood knights moved together, coming away from the door and towards him. Fabrio stood aside, considering them as they walked towards the long corridor that led to the chapter house’s private rooms.

“Good night, mouse.” Dame Firebloom turned around to smile at him before they got out of sight. He could barely make out her face, but he had heard her call him that before. He sighed. As much as he had pitied the headstrong girl for her missteps and the price she had paid for them, he could have gone a few more years without being called that.

To Fabrio’s surprise, Master Sunsworn deliberately flicked her ear.

“Hey!”

“Be polite to my cousin.” Keltyr drunkenly chastised.

“Screw your cousin.”

“I’m not sharing.” They both started giggling. When Dame Firebloom pulled Keltyr’s head down for a kiss, Fabrio coughed again, hoping desperately that the dim nighttime lighting would hide the flush across his face. “If Champion Vranesh comes by tomorrow…”

“Tell him, he’s lucky he’s still walking!” She turned to Fabrio, probably about to curse foully or attempt to demonstrate her martial prowess. “Kel could have beaten him, no matter how much he had to drink.”

Fabrio expected to see his cousin looking somewhat embarrassed. Instead he found Keltyr smiling. “If Vranesh comes by, cousin,” He snagged his fellow blood knight by the arm and pulled her towards him before she could go on another tirade. “Wake me.” He snickered slightly. “Might want to have someone bring us some coffee too.”

Fabrio watched the two of them stumble back to Master Sunsworn’s room wondering if he should feel horrified or amused.

Light, where am I? What time is it?

Dorri'tow was not yet ready to open her eyes. Her head still pounded and she could feel the fuzzy and twitchy feeling that came from the sparks she sometimes felt. She felt whoever was lying beside her get up to respond to a knock on the door. It was not until she heard Keltyr's voice, somewhat faintly, that she actually relaxed.

She smelled the acidic fragrance of coffee and opened her eyes as Keltyr sat back down on the bed.

"Hi." There were dark circles around his eyes and he looked as tired as she felt. Two cups of coffee were held in one hand.

"Hi. What time is it?" She struggled into a sitting position, climbing up his free arm. Sitting, with the room slightly spinning, she rested her head on his shoulder. She felt some of the tension slip out of him.

"Almost noon." She groaned as he said it. "Coffee?" When she nodded her head, he handed her one of the cups.

They sat in silence, shoulder to shoulder, but facing opposite directions. She watched the dust motes dance where the thin Dalaran sunlight. Normally, she felt comfortable in the silence. Neither of them talked much, but this morning was uncomfortable. She thought it was just her, but then Keltyr hesitantly wrapped an arm around her waist.

"I'm sorry." They both said it at once, looked at each other and laughed. Then they shared a wince from the noise with softer laughter afterwards. Suddenly, she was glad that the bronze had been uncooperative last night.

Sometimes she could be very stupid. That thought brought a smile to her face, since that was how she had ended up in this room with him which is where she had wanted to be.

For a little while they sat that way in comfortable companionable silence. Eventually, she set the empty mug on the edge of the bed against the wall and tried to wrap an arm around his waist. Her shoulder started to ache, so she tried to shift her arm and then the rest of her. Finally she gave a very frustrated sigh.

"What are you trying to do?" Patient voice again, but not teasing.

"I want… I want to do what you do. It's uncomfortable." She finally looked at him and scowled at the smile on his face.

"My fingers are numb."

"But…"

"Right, it took me almost two months to get you to stop punching me every time I tried to touch you when we weren't in bed. I don't feel like having to go through all those bruises again." He raised an eyebrow at her and she shrugged. She was not going to argue with the truth. “I’m not about to let you forget that you like it.”

Dorri frowned at him, but he was unrepentant. “But now, I want my arm back.” The moment seemed to pass. She took her mug and his and put them on the table. They circled around each other, getting ready for the day, despite it being half over.

Before Kel could get his armor on, she wrapped her arms around his waist. He paused for a moment and then ran a hand through her hair. “Are you sure you are all right?” She nodded her head, not actually trusting her voice.

She had learned something last night, aside from speculation about the strange dust and its connection to the letters. More than being stalked by a very creepy giant anteater. Dorri had learned that Keltyr would not chase her. She had felt the unease of his lying to her and Shukir’s sudden appearance had sent her over the edge. She had been so focused on herself, she had not even heard the things Keltyr had said. She felt guilty for leaving him, even if she had needed to leave. If the damn bronze had not been so stubborn, she would have flown off and left Keltyr alone.


From the moment she had walked away from the fire, she had waited for him to say something over the stone, to find her and stop her… Instead, he had gone looking for a drink. It never occurred to her that Kel would feel that badly about it or that she had contributed to that feeling. She was glad the dragon had not wanted to fly, but she did not know how to say those things to Kel.

So, for now, she just tried to express what she could with a hug, because she was not sure she was ready to talk about the rest. Dorri let him go with a final squeeze and went back to filling her orders for gems.

“Green, Pink or Purple?” Dorri asked over the stone. She knew Kel was listening. She had heard the occasional mutter from him. Keilos had his stone turned on as well, which would make the question just a little more fun to push.

“What?” Keilos’ sounded baffled by her asking out of the blue. He might not even be aware of the holiday. She ignored him for the moment.

“I would say pink, simply because I don't know if you'd go through with it.” Keltyr’s smooth voice was filled with the smirk she knew was on his face.

Around her, everything in the city grew indistinct. She was heading for the landing pad and the bronze, heading for another push on Naxxaramas. Everything was focused on the stone and the challenge that Keltyr had just presented her with. “Is that a dare?”

“I believe it is.”

Her eyes narrowed as she threw herself into Kron’s saddle. So he thought she would not wear one of those dresses. Did he? “Right, as soon as we’re done here, I’m heading for Winterspring.”

“What, pray tell, is in Winterspring?”

At first, Dorri did not understand her mistake. She snarled softly but tried to cover her embarrassment with the same calm smoothness that Keltyr did. “Meh, I meant moonglade. All those places look the same, the teddy bears hate me.”

******

When they had pushed as far as they could it Naxx that evening, the troll mage that was with them created a portal to Dalaran. Not pausing at all, Dorri ran through the portal and to one of the night elves that were passing out scrolls that would instantly get you to Moonglade. She snatched the scroll, ran for the obnoxious puddle of bright white light, read the words on the scroll and took a moment to let her eyes adjust to the blue tinged light of the moonglade.

She ran towards the night elf that sold the dresses, having let him take her measurements a few days ago. She had had him make three different versions of the “traditional” dresses for the season. She only had a few minutes to grab the dress and get where she was going. The tailor was flustered as she breezed in. He wanted to check the fit.

“I don’t have time for that. I need it now.”

“But miss…” He placed a hand on her arm and found himself with axe against his belly. “I’ll get you the dress.” He scurried to the back and then brought her a package wrapped in brown paper. She snatched it out of his hands with a snarl, found a forsaken mage lounging in the nearby inn and paid them to create a portal back to Dalaran.

It was a quick run to the landing pad and back to Kronamu. The dragon kept looking over his shoulder at her, as she fought to undo the buckles of her armor during the quick flight to Wyrmrest Temple. She was carefully enough to stow the pieces of armor in the bronze’s overly large saddlebags, but the dragon muttered ominiously as she did so. At her urging, he stopped just out of sight, so she could take off the padding and slip on the dress.

“Damn, shoes!”

“You didn’t need shoes.” She sighed at Kron’s statement.

“Right, barefoot.” She sat sidesaddle and hit the ground outside the sanctum. She slowed herself to a stop as she saw Keltyr waiting in the center of the ornate chamber. The floor was freezing, but she kept her gait smooth and her eyes on Kel.

He was staring at her long before she reached him. Dare her, would he? Ambika was standing nearby and moved closer with a smile. Dorri stopped before Keltyr, smirked at him and then crossed her arms over her chest. Keltyr smirked back, looking her up and down at least twice. She was of half a mind to deck him, only starting to realize that she had been had.

“Aren’t you pretty in pink?” Ambika remarked from the side. The troll priestess grinned at her.

“Kel picked it.”

“It’s very girly.”

“But not nearly as revealing as the other things he’s asked for.”

Together, the women turned to look at Keltyr. The paladin looked from one to the other and then towards the entrance to the cavern where everyone else had already vanished. “Right, Dragons!” He took off for the cavern, leaving Dorri and Ambika snickering behind him.

****

She slipped back into the dress after they returned to Dalaran for the night. She spent a few moments filling last minute orders, intending to finish them and turn in. It had been a long day. She weaved in and out of the crowd in front of the northern bank, looking for the orc huntress Teevi.

Instead, a handsome Sin’dorei in blue caught her attention. It only took seconds to recognize Kel. The bright blue suit was new, though the boots and gloves she recognized as having sat unused in his belongings for months. The sword belt was dyed a darker blue. They were probably not meant to go together, but they meshed well.

She caught Keltyr’s eye as she was descending the stairs and was about to make a comment, when Teevi came bounding up.

“Pretty!” The orc cheered.

“Kel picked it out.” Teevi waved at Kel, who nodded in return. Gems exchanged hands and the orc huntress and the forsaken mage who approached after she left, were gone soon enough. Dorri moved closer to Keltyr,

“You look very handsome.” He bowed to her, smiling. “Much better than Winter’s Veil.”

“I suppose in some cases.” The two of them exchanged knowing grins.

“You could always go get the hat.”

Keltyr’s grin widened. “The hat was hideous.” He gestured towards the inn and they walked home together.

Dorri’tow leaned against one of the large wooden pillars in Utgarde waiting for the rest of their group to assemble. Physically, she was weary but sleep was still far away. She watched other people come and go, not really focusing on any one person. Hopefully, she would be able to exhaust herself enough to sleep at least part of the night.

She said nothing when Keltyr came to stand beside her. Instead, she laid her head against his shoulder, avoiding the spikes on his pauldrons with practiced ease. The cool feel of the metal against her face and the drone of people in the fortress’ antechambers lulled her into something approaching sleep. So much so that she did not even hear Kansin’s trollish mutterings about people being slow. At least, not until Keltyr bounced his shoulder a few times.

Dorri opened her eyes to see a box wrapped in dark red paper right before her eyes. Still bemused, she took the box in both hands and looked at her fellow blood knight.

“Should I open it now?” She resisted the urge to shake the box.

Keltyr shrugged. “Doesn’t matter.” He turned away with a lingering smile and started walking away. She could still hear the continued speech of the frustrated troll, but her attention was on the box in front of her.

Dorri stuffed the box under one arm and pulled her gauntlets off. Then she ripped the wrappings off and opened the box. Black fabric greeted her. She held it up to her cheek, enjoying the smooth feel of the fine silk. She allowed the box to fall to the floor so she could get a full view of the garment.

She knew it would fit; Kel had already proven himself adept at making those judgments. She knew just enough about wearing dresses to know that this one would was designed to cling and show. With a chuckle and a smile, she folded the silk neatly and tucked it into her satchel for later.

When she finally left the group to head for Dalaran, she paused at Keltyr’s side. His smile as she looked at his face was all the answer she needed. He knew her well enough to know that she had opened the gift. He knew what she would be wearing when he got home.

“Right. That's it. Rest well, and I'll see you when you wake up, sister-mine.”

Dorri opened her mouth to reply, and then stopped as the dream shimmered into nothingness. Right, just a dream. She felt warm and comfortable. There was an arm over her stomach, the hand of which was resting directly against her skin where her shirt had ridden up. She waited for the flash of anger that always hit when first waking up, the irritation that she consciously suppressed every day. She kept waiting.

Hmm, guess that wasn’t mine after all. She liked that, because she liked the feel of Keltyr’s body against hers, even with the slight annoyance of warm breath along the tips of her ears. It had been frustrating to have to remind herself that she liked that, every time.

Finally she opened her eyes. Faint light was coming through the thick curtains that shuttered the door to the wide balcony. She was awake a little later than usual, probably because of all that tea. Dorri tilted her head up to look at Keltyr’s face. He was blinking sleepily, but was awake enough to smile at her.

With her free hand, she grabbed a fistful of his hair. After that, she didn’t think about much for a few minutes. Then she heard a noise that had nothing to do with the two of them.

She froze and Keltyr leaned up on his elbows and cocked an eyebrow at her.

“There’s someone in the room with us.”

“Yes.”

“We should probably stop.”

“Probably” His grin told her that if she decided to forget they had visitors, he would too. She paused, considering. It was a tough decision, since she had no idea who was watching them. “Right! I’ll get coffee” He announced loudly with a wink. He managed to escape the bed with only one light punch. She was not about to wrestle with him, at least not right now.

As Keltyr dealt with the details of coffee and breakfast, Dorri sat up, adjusted her clothing and suddenly stifled a laugh. It was not exactly who she expected to see. The only person that looked scandalized was her sister, but Then’liath was always fairly stuffy. Destril blushed when she looked at him. With Dandill, she exchanged something approaching fondness, while Kashet was appraising. The one thing Dorri noticed immediately was that the constant oppressive feeling of anxiety was gone. There was not even the lingering whispers of lightning.

In a few short minutes the small gathering was focused around the room’s table, drinking coffee and eating corn muffins. The idea of food first thing in the morning was still repellent. However, sitting on the edge of the bed with one hand on Keltyr’s leg with his arm around her shoulder was good.

She listened to Keltyr ask questions and formulate plans with Dandill. She felt his shoulders tighten and the rumble in his chest get more strident, but she just listened. Dorri stored the details of the plans she heard them formulating, but she was more interested in making a list of what felt different. That, in and of itself, amused her. So, making lists was at least partially hers as well. At least her way of dealing with…whatever was done to her.

She was jolted out of her list making, by Keltyr blowing on her ear. “Huh?” She stopped, thought back over what she had just heard. Destril snarling a question at her. “If I had anything I wanted to change, priest, I would have said something.” She did not need to look to know that Keltyr was smiling at Destril over her head. “Maybe in a few hours, I’ll feel angry enough to add a few details, but I like the plan the way it stands. Right now, I’m mostly pleased.”

“Pleased?” Then’liath looked startled. “Pleased by what? Those bastards took your whole life from you.”

“Stuff it, Then!” Dorri snarled back. “You don’t like what I made of myself, fine.” Keltyr moved his arm so she could stand. “But I do. I like this life. I stopped crying for what I couldn’t have a long time ago. There's only one thing important about what I remember."

"What?" Whatever tripe was about to come out of her sister's mouth was cut short by the priest laying a hand on Then'liath's arm.

"That she didn't fail." Keltyr answered the question, but his disgust at even having to answer was just as obvious as the scorn in his voice.

Except for the outburst with Then earlier, the morning had been pleasant. Kel still wanted to hurt something for hurting her. Funny, she was fairly certain that a few days ago that would have made her angry. But today, she found it endearing. Well, if he had tried to run off by himself and do it, she probably would still be angry, but that was not how Keltyr did things.

While Keltyr and Dandill had planned, combining everything they knew, Dorri had sorted through her feelings, growing more and more confident about where things stood. There were more things she wanted to experiment with, but she could tell that Keltyr was getting anxious. He had stood idly by, nothing to keep him busy but his own thoughts.

He had been focused on plans, vicious ones too. She knew that her lover had not been completely forthcoming on what he planned to do to Vreldor. It was something to do with Destril, probably wondering if the priest would be willing, which, of course, gave her an idea of what he intended.

Then Dandill abruptly got up and walked away. Dorri nearly covered her face with her palm, she had not been oblivious to the way her friend and former teacher and been studiously not looking at her. She looked at Kashet, who gave a soft forlorn sigh.

Dorri sighed deeply and then nodded at Kashet. “Right, I’ll go dent his thick head.” She began to stand up, noticing the uncomfortable chill that settled over her when she moved away from Kel. She turned to look at him, seeing the flash of annoyance on his face. He wanted things decided and he wanted to be on the move. Dorri found herself feeling guilty. She had been so caught up in herself, she had forgotten about what he felt, what Dandill felt. She opened her mouth to say something and then Keltyr grinned. Bastard already knew, no doubt.

She leaned down and whispered in his ear. “I’ll talk sense into Dandill and then we’ll go. You and me alone, if we have to.” Even though it seemed like she spent the whole morning making up for a year’s worth of avoiding his touch, nothing quite topped the kiss she earned from that comment. When she pulled away, he pinched her ass. She threw a solid punch, which he barely ducked.

“Cheeky!” He grinned boyishly at her and she laughed.

With the approaching noon, the sun was already fading away from the balcony. Dorri suppressed a shiver as she closed the door behind her. She probably should have put on something warmer, maybe some shoes, but she was afraid that if she turned away now, Dandill would take it the wrong way.

She looked over the Death Knight, leaning against the balcony.

She punched him lightly in the shoulder. “Right, are you done?” Dandill looked at her and then looked quickly away. Snarling, she took his arm and turned him around to face her. “Why are you shouldering the blame for this?” She stuck a finger in his face. “You some bloody seer now? No one knew, not even me.”

She let go of Dandill, sighed and leaned against the balcony. “Saddest thing is, I’m actually kind of glad. Could have done without the brain scramble, but mostly glad.”

“Glad?”

Dorri turned back to look at him with a wry smile. “Well, knowing what I know now, about Faylen, about my brother, about everything… What would have happened if they hadn’t been bastards enough to do it? What would I have been like? Like Then? Bitchy and stuck-up and not bright enough to see things? How many people would I not have known or,” she admitted with a wry smile “loved? How many things would I have ignored? And Kel…”

That thought had run through her mind a lot this morning. “How can I even think that life would have been better with Faylen than him. I think of all the things I thought were so cute when we were kids, but… Faylen was weak. He had no confidence. But it’s more than that.” Her eyes unfocused, as she conjured a picture of Kel’s face. “He wants me to be his partner, not just his lover. Faylen couldn’t have given me that. He never had the balls for it. And who knows, maybe I would have been happy with that, because I didn’t know any better. But I do know better.”

“It’s done, Dandill. We’ll take out of their flesh what they’ve taken from us, but in the end, we have the better end of the deal, even if we let them walk away.”

The Chapter House’s coffee had a different flavor from the Legermain’s. She had never noticed that before. Dorri lay her legs out over the bench where she was sitting, waiting for Fabrio to make his sleepy meandering way to the mess.

It used to be that she was the only early riser, but she had seen Keilos creep out of the kitchen just after she had arrived. No doubt he had been chased out by the cook who had brought her coffee. It was really good coffee. Dorri had caught herself in moments like this for days now. The ability to merely sit and experience the way something felt or tasted was new, or maybe it was old.

Enjoying moments had other benefits as well. She learned to enjoy more time just sitting, watching, without having to be too exhausted to move. She had spent nights planning with Keltyr and Dandill, slowly closing their search area. They were certain that Vreldor had not left Silvermoon since they tossed the little workshop in Orgrimar. Dorri was more than content to allow the orcs to deal with the mess they had found.

Dandill, ever the shining knight, had been disgusted to find that both Vreldor and her brother had prayed on other mages. Of course, there was nothing to be done about the trolls and wayward Forsaken that those two had prayer on. They had killed them. Dorri was not sure if it was the deaths of those they found that made Dandill so enraged or the thought that Vreldor had no doubt slaked his magical needs on the Sin’dorei for years. Whatever the reason, Dandill was prowling Silvermoon, hoping for a clue.

Keltyr had gone to Undercity. Tonight, maybe she would know tonight. She was ready to have it done with. Not for revenge, but because it would be over. She kept waiting to feel angry at what had happened, but it just never came. Instead, she felt little more than the need to be there when Razkiel was killed because Keltyr would be there.

Fabrio blearily sat at the end of her bench, well away from her boots. She straddled the bench, leaning forward. She noticed the lines that marred the secretary’s face with a twitch of her lips. “Good morning, mouse.”

“Good morning, Dame Firebloom.” He stifled a weary sigh that made her chuckle. She was fond of Fabrio, in a way. He sniffed the air and then whimpered.

‘Something wrong?”

“Young Dawnstar is going to burn the chapter house down around our ears.” The reedy and worried little wail caused her to grin. “That’s the second morning in a row, he’s been in there! What is he thinking?”

“He’s thinking that the way to Ysani’s heart is through her stomach.”

“What? Oh dear…”

“Is there a problem, mouse?”

“No.. No mam.” He looked away from her, shuffling papers.

With a aggressive snarl, Dorri slammed her palm on the pile of papers. “Out with it!”

“I, um… I mean, uh…” She ground her teeth as the secretary tried to organize his thoughts.

“Are you sure that is wise?”

“Am I sure what is wise? That those two find a little comfort in each other? What’s wrong with it?”

Fabrio’s expression changed. “Finding a little comfort? Is that what you call it? You think that’s all it is? You didn’t see him! You didn’t have to worry about him. You didn’t see him drink himself into thinking you were still there. Didn’t see him do completely inappropriate things! You…”

He went silent as she leaned forward, her face directly in front of his. “I was talking about Keilos and Ysani, mouse.” She spoke softly, but forcefully. He swallowed and blanched. “Alah, Fabrio, I’m not going to touch you. Kel would be annoyed.” She tried to smile, shoveling off the uneasiness of the confrontation. She really did not want to hurt Fabrio, but it galled a little to hear him talk about Kel like that.

“I need to go.” Dorri rose to her feet. “I should meet Dandill. See if I could help him.”

“I’m sorry.” She raised an eyebrow at the mouse’s sudden apology and then she shrugged. “Someone has to worry.” He offered as an excuse.

“I’ll leave that to you, mouse. Otherwise, I think I’d go hide in a dark hole somewhere.”

The green bubbling ooze that filled the Undercity canals burbled by the “scenic” porch of the small cookshop. The stench from the canals managed to smother the stench of the food. He had found more appetizing meals among the ghouls than among these supposedly free Forsaken. What they had won in freedom they had lost in culinary accomplishments.

Razkiel Firebloom chewed dispiritedly at the formless lump that the shuddering undead cook had sworn was lamb. He tolerated the stares and whispered comments about him knowing that it was nothing more than what he deserved. He was likely the only piece of true beauty these pitiful things had ever scene. He hated them, nearly as much as he hated the entire city and being underground. It reminded him far too much of Northrend and the ziggurats. Finally, he threw the last of his meal into the fetid slime and drank the weak liquid the server dared trump as fine wine.

What he wanted was something he had been forced to restrain himself from taking. The Sin’dorei were well known for slacking their magical cravings on foul sources of magic, but Razkiel still found the taste of fel magics unfulfilling. No, what he wanted would only be found in a magus. Which meant that he had been forced to ration his small collection of crystals. He had not yet found another location of suitable qualities to continue his activities. Orgrimmar had been ideal. Nearly everyone in the Horde had passed through the city and there were always some poor destitute soul looking for coin in any way they could get it.

The Undercity had its own share of the dregs, but the Forsaken were less willing to let a strange neighbor, especially a new one. One that might be a Sin’dorei except for the strange colored eyes and pale skin. It was less strange than being in Silvermoon, surrounded by people he knew, yet looked different from him. How far had they fallen, chasing dreams that were foolish. If they had merely embraced what had been offered to them… Well that was a dream without merit. The past was finished.

Now, he merely had to survive a few weeks. A few weeks was nothing compared to eight years of waiting. Surely either Mallek or Damukag would respond to his inquiries by then. And if either of those two were not interested in what he was paying, there would surely be others that would be.

A red-haired Sin’dorei drove across the cobblestones below him, drawing Razkiel’s attention. The device was called, so he had been told, a mechno-hog. It was noisy and smelly and just the sort of thing he expected a low class ruffian like Keltyr Sunsworn to drive.

It would be unnecessarily foolish to try and face the Blood Knight right now. Not with the hunger clawing at him, certainly not with his runeblade hidden in his rooms rented in a rundown establishment further within the city. Curse his decision to try and remain inconspicuous.

Acting as unconcerned as he could, Razkiel got to his feet and began to walk towards his in. It was possible, of course, that he had misinterpreted the paladin’s feral grin as he looked up. There was no reason to think that Sunsworn had actually recognized him.

From behind him, came a large explosion and smoke surrounded him.

“Start running, coward!”

“Damn the luck.” Razkiel cursed and ran for one of the many exits from the Undercity. All the ways back into the heart of the city were too exposed and if this fool was going to use explosives, it would not matter how much the Forsaken wished peace in their sun-forsaken city, there would be blood.

He hid in the ruined throne room of Lorderon, watching as the Sin’dorei ran past him. They played cat and mouse. Razkiel smiled as the fool ran all the way to the teleportation device to Silvermoon. The death knight turned to walk back into Undercity, planning to vanish. Instead he nearly ran face first into a Tauren.

He heard Sunsworn’s chuckle and turned to face him.

“I'm not some dog, to be hunted down by the likes of you!” He snarled at the blood knight.

“Of course not,” Keltyr replied with a smile. “I like dogs.”

He earned himself a scowl of derision. “I am the scion of the Fireblooms, not some upstart rabble. Trumped up light swinger who doesn’t know his place.”

Razkiel clenched a fist as Sunsworn had the audacity to yawn at him. “Is that the best you can come up with? I've heard better insults from rabbits.”

“I am sure you are well versed with your own kind. I would not seek to overwhelm you.” There was something infuriatingly superior about the smile the peasant gave him in reply. Worse, the man barely seemed to be paying attention to what was being said to him.

“I'm half tempted to just kill you here and leave you to rot. Of course, then someone would notice. No, I think when it happens, it will be quiet. You're just going to be forgotten.”

“Forgotten?” Razkiel scoffed at the prattling, ignoring the Tauren who seemed suddenly to want to be involved in the conversation. “I rather think that you would be best to leave well enough alone, peasant.”

The creature finally spoke. “I hope you’re not talking to me.” The death knight looked the Tauren over and dismissed him as unimportant. He did not notice the druid rolling his eyes and nodding to Keltyr before walking away.
“Hmm, I could leave you well enough. You aren't all that threatening. I mean it took you how many people to handle a little girl?”

Razkiel snorted again. How dare he dismiss the time and research it took to do what he did. So typical of these types to ignore the detail that magic required. “Typical, dismissive of what you cannot begin to understand.”

The sly smirk developed into a broad smile. Razkiel felt a chill creep along his back, but refused to bend to it. “Okay, I'm tired of hearing him. You can run him through now, Dorri.”

Alarmed, Razkiel spun around to confront his sister… who was not there. He heard the whoosh of a weapon moving through the air and crumpled to the ground. Pain surged through his right knee.

He barely heard the snide remarks of the blood knight who was standing nearby, leaning on the large mace that had just been wielded. “Oops, I must have been seeing things.”

Anger drove Razkiel to force himself to stand and ignore the pain that blinded him. “You’ll pay for that!”

He saw a blob move away from him, topped with red hair. “Well then, I had best walk for my life.”

Dorri looked over the small room and grinned ferally. She took in the scene with a touch of a smile on her lips. The smell of blood was heavy in the air, a thin sheen of it coated the floor at her feet, spreading out slowly from the body that lay just off center. “Hello, little brother.” She knelt down at his side, soiling her armor in the drying bood. What beauty Razkiel had was marred by the damage Dandill had done to him. Kel stood at her back, observing.

The death knight’s breath burbled in his ruined throat as he raised a hand, possibly to wave her off. Instead, a plate boot crushed the limb to the ground. Razkiel’s pain-filled wheeze was covered by a dark laugh from Keltyr.

“No one will ever know you didn’t die with our parents. You’ll just be a footnote. A might have been. All that you did to me, little brother, all that you accomplished doesn’t amount to anything. No one will ever know. You’re gone, forgotten. Not even your so-called friends here to help.”

She could see that he was fading. No one lost that much blood and kept living for very long. Keltyr murmured something to that effect. She leaned over Razkiel, staring at him coldly before whispering in his ruined ear. His breath rattled as she made her final cutting blow.

“Dandill did most of the work. Look’s like there is only one thing left to do.” Gently, she pulled his long hair from underneath him. “Dru wants your head, brother-mine.” Dorri rose to her feet with a smile. “And you don’t have any use for it any longer.”

Keltyr left her side as she swung the axe. He returned moments later with a well-worn bucket. She unceremoniously lifted the severed head off the floor by its blood-stained hair and dropped it within. Kel covered the head with a bit of cloth scavenged from the body and then handed it over to the well paid undead courier to see that it was delivered to Dalaran.

Together, she and Kel leaned against the wall of the warren of a building where Razkiel had been staying. When she had finally emerged from the room, her lover had been waiting with cigs. The acrid sweet smoke circled around them, clearing away smell of stale blood and fear. Dorri had enjoyed bloodthistle before because it helped smooth the need to be in motion. Now, she savored the euphoria it gave.

“Kinda boring.” She commented, staring off into space. “Dandill didn’t leave us much to do.” Keltyr moved away from the wall, seemingly lost in his own thoughts. She kept talking, knowing that in his mind the deed was only half done.

With a snarl, Keltyr’s hand bunched in her hair and pulled her head back. His mouth tasted of sweet smoke and blood. The slam of him pushing her against the stone wall, knocked the breath out of her; but the spots in her vision were not just from the lack of air.

“Home?” She asked, after he muttered about too much armor.

“Bait the trap first.” He said, wiping more splattered blood from her face. “Fabrio sent word that Duskwalker has been seen skulking on Murder Row.”

“I suddenly feel the need for a drink.”

Keltyr’s feline grin matched her own. “So do I.”

“Find them yet?”

The not quite whisper woke Fabrio with a start. The secretary had left the door to his private room and his office open so he could hear his cousin and Dame Firebloom return. He must have drifted off because now he could hear someone or something banging around in his office. There was light from an oil lamp filtering in from his office.

“Nope.”

“You sure the mouse has them?”

It sounded like whoever was talking was attempting to whisper and failing, badly. In the darkness, Fabrio covered his face with his hand. He recognized those voices. This is exactly what he had been afraid of.

“Stop calling him a mouse.” Fabrio was unsure if he should feel pleased that his cousin was defending him, or horrified by Keltyr’s obviously drunken condition. “`is name is Fabrio.”

“Wouldn’t be calling him anything, if you had remembered your keys.”

“Didn’t think you’d smoke all the thistle.”

“Didn’t! left it in Dalaran.”

“And we’d be in Dalaran if you hadn’t scared off the mage!”

Fabrio began debating if he should risk getting between the two of them or just pulling the cover over his head and wishing they would go away. Another drawer got jerked open and Fabrio winced as heard the contents shuffled around. He hoped neither of them broke anything.

“She insulted you. I had to do something.”

“She ran off with all our money when you pulled the sword.”

Slowly, Fabrio got off the bed and peered around the edge of the door. His cousin had ripped out at least three desk drawers, nearly spilling all their contents on the floor. Sitting perilously on the edge of the desk was Dame Firebloom.

“Find them yet?”

Fabrio stifled a groan as the conversation seemed about to start over again.