Secrets in the Swamps

Alayne stared in amazement at the scene that unfolded as they left the red, rocky soil of Hellfire Peninsula and stepped into Zangarmarsh. Enormous mushrooms sprouted from the swampy ground, shading the land with their immense caps. A cobblestone road dotted liberally with rickety wooden bridges formed the path through the marsh. Long-legged swampwalkers wandered through the flowing streams and rivers, seeking food while oversized wasps darted to and fro, lighting on flowers that grew near the giant fungi. Next to her, Jez’ral reached out and gripped her arm in a vice-like hold when her eyes fell on the moonwell at the druid outpost.

“Kaldorei,” Alayne breathed in awe. She’d met precious few of the elder race. Those she had met had been bent on taking control of Quel’Thalas. However, it was said that the druids of the Cenarion Circle were neutral and welcomed all who would respect their ways – even sin’dorei.

“Alayne, let’s not annoy them too much,” Jez’ral muttered in an undertone. While druids might tolerate the sin’dorei, they were not fond of warlocks – even those who followed the ‘fighting fire with fire’ philosophy. Studying the rapt expression on Alayne’s face and knowing some of the half-million questions piling up in her mind, Jez’ral sighed and decided to focus his efforts where they might bear fruit. “You wouldn’t want to get us tossed out before you get a chance to ask them anything so stay out of the moonwell.”

“Be welcome to the Cenarion Refuge,” one of the night elven druids said with a welcoming smile. “Who among you leads this band?”

“I do,” Zerith answered quickly, vaulting off his hawkstrider. “We are just travelers, passing through. We mean you no harm.”

“You are most welcome!” a tauren druid boomed, startling everyone. “We have been praying for just such a deliverance!”

“What do you mean?” Zerith asked, glancing around. “All seems peaceful enough here. Is there something we can help you with?”

“Yes, please let there be something we can help them with,” Alayne whispered beneath her breath, hoping that whatever it was would give her a chance to speak with night elves who would not attack her.

“The naga have taken over the lakes of Zangarmarsh and are draining them with some kind of foul machinery. The Circle would be most grateful if you could lead your band to disperse the naga to the north and south and destroy their infernal devices. They are threatening to cut off our water supply,” the night elven druid explained. “Will you aid us, sin’dorei priest?” he asked, sounding as if he had just bitten into a bitter fruit.

“Yes,” Zerith answered. “We will be glad to be of assistance to the Cenarion Circle. Ger’alin, Jez’ral, Tau’re, Davril, could the four of you come along with me? Sir, would you be so kind as to show us what you can of your enemies’ positions? The more information we can have now, the sooner we can drive them out. The rest of you,” he said, turning back to the small army following after, “should find places to sleep tonight and try not to annoy the Circle too much,” he said, glaring at his sister just as Jez’ral had. Alayne adopted her most innocent “who, me?” expression, forcing him to hold back a laugh. Motioning for Dar’ja to come over to him, he quickly whispered something in her ear, smiled, and then walked off with the druids to begin learning more about the situation.

“What did he tell you?” Alayne asked Dar’ja as the two of them began moving through the crowd towards the inn.

“To keep an eye on you,” Dar’ja winked. “Come on, we’ll probably have to double up at the inn. Do you mind sharing a room with Callie? Or would you rather share one with Ger’alin as has been your custom?” she teased.

“Callie is fine. It’s not like she sleeps much,” Alayne said, hoping her careless expression masked how she truly felt. She hoped that Zerith had not told Dar’ja the whole story but feared that he had. Sighing to herself, she thought that as long as it stayed between the three of them, she would be able to get over it without risking scaring Ger’alin away. She forced herself not to think about the previous night and how nice it had been to be so close to him. Doing that was not at all conducive to her “get over it and move on” strategy.

“I’ll go make the arrangements, then, while there are still rooms open,” Dar’ja said quickly. “I suppose I’ll have to get Ger’alin and Jez’ral to double up as well. Camping outside in this muck just isn’t a good idea.”

Dar’ja hurried off to get the rooms reserved while Alayne wandered around the small town. The night elves, like the blood elves, favored buildings that were in harmony with their surroundings. The shops, towers, and the inn were all constructed out of wood native to Outland. The low-peaked roofs were tiled, however, and adorned with the symbols of the moon goddess, Elune. Alayne glanced around and then made a line for the moonwell. She knew that the night elves had tried to set one up off the shores of Quel’Thalas but had been driven back before it could be activated. She had very much wanted to see the magic used to ignite the moonwell. Jez’ral said that the kaldorei were not very forth-coming with such information. He himself had sought after it after the destruction of the Sunwell. As she drew nearer to the glowing sapphire well, she could feel a sense of peace flowing over her. Her worries grew less pressing. Even the tension she’d been feeling around Ger’alin faded in the background as the soothing nature of the moonwell embraced her. Without thinking, she reached out, trying to get a sense of the energies that powered the well. “It feels very similar to the Sunwell,” she muttered quietly. “But it is so different at the same time.”

“That would be because the moonwell is blessed by Elune and Cenarius,” a deep voice said, drawing her out of her thoughts. “Your Sunwell was sparked by the same magics that came from the Well of Eternity and replenished its power by drawing on the vital forces of the world.”

Alayne turned to see a night elf staring at her. The man looked serene and amused by his young cousin’s interest in the moonwell. “What do you know of the Sunwell?” she asked. “It was…destroyed before your people set foot into Lordaeron.”

“We have learned much of your people and some of us remember your ancestors,” the druid replied. “Why, I myself recall when young Dath’remar…” he continued, guiding Alayne away from the moonwell and into the inn. Alayne followed eagerly, glad that one of the elder race would speak with her. She’d come to Outland hoping to glean more information concerning the history of the orcs and the Legion. However, the chance to learn more of her own people’s history – especially parts of it that were shrouded in legend – was not something she would pass up lightly.

Dar’ja walked past the pair, pausing them only to hand Alayne the key to the room she would share with Callie and then let them continue on, shaking her head in fond vexation. The sin’dorei paladin walked over to where the Forsaken stood overseeing the picket lines that several of the Disorder of Azeroth were constructing.

“What is she doing?” Callie asked Dar’ja as the pair of them moved to where they couldn’t be seen in case Alayne suddenly decided to rejoin them.

“Indulging herself in her one, true passion,” Dar’ja grinned. “She’s probably getting him to tell her the entire history of Azeroth according to the kaldorei. It’s not enough that I think she’s read every single history book in Silvermoon, oh no, she’s got to hear it from the lips of those who lived it, if she can.”

“You got the rooms, then? Is it on for tonight?”

“Zerith says so.”

The Forsaken giggled. “This is going to be the most amusing thing to happen in the history of amusing things.”

“If it works as we hope it will,” Dar’ja said. “Let’s not count our dragonlings before they’re hatched.”

“Have any of my pranks ever gone awry?”

“According to Ger’alin, yes.”

“Those don’t count, then.”

“Hey, where are you two going?” Dar’ja asked, seeing Alayne dart out of the inn and race over to her felsteed. The warlock quickly pulled down her saddlebags and began rummaging through them.

“I want to write down what he’s telling me,” Alayne said. “Oh, Callie, I don’t know if Dar’ja told you but you’re rooming with me.”

“She did. I’ve got my key right here,” the Forsaken replied. “I’ll probably be popping in late tonight after you’re asleep. I want to do some exploring of my own around here.”

“That’s fine,” Alayne nodded. “I may even still be up then. I have a feeling I’m going to be working on my notes all night. He’s only just begun to tell me about our shared history and I already have learned more than all the books in Silvermoon could tell me! It’s fascinating.”

“Alayne, you really shouldn’t stay up too late,” Callie chided. “You’re still recovering from whatever it was you and Jez’ral did to that demon. And, you’ll want to be rested in case we need to work on something other than studying tomorrow.”

“What are you two talking about anyway?” Dar’ja asked.

“The first battle of MountHyjal,” Alayne answered. “Var’thanos was there. He’s over twelve thousand years old!” she said in an awed whisper. “And, he knew Dath’Remar! He promised he would tell me about it since, according to him, we have most of it wrong. I’m glad I brought all those extra books,” she said. “I may run out of pages to write on. Twelve thousand years…,” she said, sounding stunned beyond belief.

“He must have the patience of a stone,” Dar’ja said, watching Alayne scamper back to the inn.

“I’m going to go up to the room and get things set up,” Callie said after Alayne got out of earshot. “I’ll move the bed over to the darkest corner of the room and rearrange the furniture a bit. I’ll put the basin right at the window so that if Ger’alin does his normal wash-up-before-sleep routine, he’ll be night-blinded as he stumbles into the bed. You know,” Callie muttered in disbelief, “I can’t believe that Zerith is fine with the chance that those two might…”

“Oh, he’s not exactly fine with it but if that’s what it takes to get them to realize the truth, he’s willing to stomach it. Provided, of course,” she giggled, “that he can get them decently married right away. He has been practicing his outraged speech. Truth be told, I think he’s almost looking forward to it.”

“Well, I will warn you that Ger’alin is completely convinced that Alayne regards him in the same light she holds Zerith so he may not figure it out tonight.”

“And Alayne’s convinced that Ger’alin thinks of her the same way Zerith does so we may have to keep throwing them together until they can’t stand it anymore,” Dar’ja agreed. “Remember, Zerith and Jez’ral are working on a couple of contingency plans that, for some reason, we’re not allowed to be part of.”

“Probably because we’d think they were too tame,” Callie muttered. “Oh well, let’s go get started setting things up for tonight. Remember, this has to look like a complete accident.”

~*~*~*~

“Who’s that over there with Alayne?” Ger’alin asked, hoping he didn’t sound too jealous. The warlock was sitting at a table, her head together with one of the night elves.

“Var’thanos,” Callie answered. “I don’t see how she can put up with his haughty attitude. Apparently, he’s telling her his life story. It spans twelve centuries so they’ve been talking for a while.”

“Alayne and her obsession with history,” Jez’ral muttered. “Sometimes I wonder if I’ll catch her summoning something just to ask it questions like in the stories of old. Who would have thought someone so young would be interested in things so far in the past?”

“I see,” Ger’alin said slowly. “Well, I’m just about worn out. I think I’ll go get my room and just go to sleep. Never mind about supper.”

“You’re in with Jez’ral,” Callie said quickly. “I’ve got all of the keys. But, I’m not giving you yours until after you’ve eaten something. Your stomach rumbling will probably keep poor Jez’ral up all night.”

“Fine, fine,” Ger’alin grumbled, glancing over at Alayne. The woman smiled at him and waved, motioning for him and the others to join her. The night elf stood up and, bowing courteously, left. Alayne bent back over her book, scribbling in a few last notes before the others sat down. “What was so interesting about him?” Ger’alin asked, poking the woman in the shoulder.

“He knows so much,” she said, her voice bordering on worshipful. Ger’alin grimaced. “He was there when the first of our people were exiled. We had to agree to disagree about that subject,” she muttered. “I still can’t believe they…well, it’s been several millennia now, so arguing about it won’t make much difference. I wish there were a way to navigate the Maelstrom,” she whispered, staring off into space.

“Why would you want to do that?” Ger’alin asked.

“Apparently, that’s where the Well of Eternity is. Or where he thinks it wound up. I wish I could find a naga who wouldn’t try to stab me so I could see if they knew. Maybe if we could…no, it probably wouldn’t work,” she sighed. “Though, that one test before the voidwalker spawned on top of us gives me great encouragement that it can be done.”

“I see,” Ger’alin said, not understanding a word but content to listen to her speak. “Do you know what’s good here? I’m starving,” he announced. “First we spent hours poring over maps and arguing tactics. Then we had to go scout out the positions. Zerith’s got a great plan worked out. And, yes, Alayne, you get to get in on the action. He’s not putting you off in reserve.”

“That’s good,” she answered. “I’ve already eaten so I think I’ll just go see if Zerith will tell me what the plan is and then I’m going to go work on my notes and then get some sleep. As someone reminded me, if we’re going to be fighting, I want to be well-rested for it. Good night, Ger’alin, Callie, Jez’ral,” she said, smiling sweetly. Ger’alin watched her leave, his heart pounding so loudly he feared that everyone could hear it. He tore his gaze away, terrified she would be able to read his face if she turned back, and stared at the table. Callie rubbed his back in commiseration, keeping her own eagerness and anticipation tamped down firmly. Jez’ral waved at Alayne again when he saw her leaving Zerith and Dar’ja, skipping up the stairs lightly, happy after a day spent scribbling notes that would enrich the archives in Silvermoon and looking forward to a rousing battle. Callie startled him when she walked up beside him and slipped him a key.

“Second floor, second door to the left. I’ll take the floor. I just gave Ger’alin the key to his room. Get soup so he can eat fast. We have to get him up there before she falls asleep deeply enough to start babbling and give herself away.”

“Good, good. Come with me. You can help me carry the bowls back,” the warlock whispered, pocketing the key. “He won’t see her, will he?”

“Ger’alin is blind as a bat at night unless he spends several minutes letting his eyes adjust. Luckily, he’s so tired right now that all he really wants to do is fall asleep. Come on, we can’t mess this up without giving ourselves away entirely,” she giggled, grabbing two bowls of soup from the cook and hurrying back across the room. Zerith and Dar’ja were sitting around the Blood Knight, going over the plans for tomorrow afternoon’s battle. Jez’ral kept quiet while they ate, feeling a thrill of nervous anticipation. He’d not participated in a good prank since he was their age and had forgotten the excitement that heated the blood.

Ger’alin ate with maddening slowness, it seemed. Time seemed to crawl by. Callie and Dar’ja shot each other worried glances behind the man’s back, hoping that Alayne would take her time falling asleep. Zerith chaffed his hands, wishing Ger’alin would hurry in the event that this scheme did work. He’d figured that Ger’alin would be more than ready to go to sleep after the way he’d made the man run all over Zangarmarsh this afternoon and evening. He nearly sighed with relief when Ger’alin pushed his bowl away, and yawning said, “I think I’m going to head on to bed. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Good night, Ger’alin,” Callie said smoothly. Zerith didn’t trust himself to speak without bursting into laughter. “Pleasant dreams,” she said, smiling to herself.

~*~*~*~

Ger’alin hummed to himself quietly as he walked up the stairs to the second floor of the inn. Counting off the doors, he opened the fifth one to the right and walked in. Stopping for a moment to pull his shirt over his head, he wished idly he knew which room Alayne was in. “I’d put up with listening to her ramble on about the complete course of history since creation just to hear her voice,” he thought to himself as he set his things by the door. Walking over to the wash basin, he poured some water out and washed his face, wishing that he felt up to waiting for a tub to be filled. Squinting in the bright moonlight, he quickly finished washing off the sweat and dust from running all over the area and turned, taking a second to orient himself. Moving slowly, groping almost blindly, he grunted when his foot hit the side of the bed. Feeling for the covers, he pulled them back and climbed in, rolling on his side and nearly biting his tongue when he saw a woman’s sleeping face on the pillow across from him.

“I am going to kill Callie!” Ger’alin groaned softly, rolling on his back and covering his eyes with his hand.

“Ger’alin, is that you?” Alayne asked, her voice thick with sleep. She pushed herself up and rubbed her eyes. “What are you doing in here? They told me that Callie was going to be my room-mate.”

“Go back to sleep, Alayne. Apparently, there’s been a bit of a mix up.”

“Mix up?”

“I think Callie is playing one of her pranks on us. She must have swapped the keys around.”

“Why would she do that?”

“One word: Desolace.”

“Are they never going to let us live that down?” Alayne muttered.

“I don’t think so,” he sighed. “I’ll just go set up camp…”

“No,” Alayne said firmly. “You can sleep in here. I don’t mind. We can take turns sleeping on the floor.”

“I am not letting you sleep on the floor,” he protested. “My arm is completely healed.”

“It wouldn’t be fair to make you sleep on the floor the whole time,” she muttered. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but it’s very chilly here in Zangarmarsh.”

“Then keep your head turned while I go get my shirt and put it back on. I can wrap up in my cloak and I’ll be fine.”

“Look, we can get a cot brought in tomorrow,” she said calmly. “But, you can sleep here with me tonight.”

“No, I don’t…”

“I won’t bite you,” she muttered. “Besides, if we get a good night’s sleep, we’ll be refreshed enough to think of a way to get back at all of them.”

“I like the way you think,” he grinned, relaxing a bit. “Fine, I’ll sleep in here with you tonight and we’ll get the cot tomorrow. However, if your brother comes in here and raises hell, tell him this was your idea.”

~*~*~*~

“Well, they did share the bed,” Callie said helpfully. “Not that anything happened.”

“Ger’alin sent down for a cot this morning,” Zerith sighed. “I think they’re going to keep sharing that room. Still, I saw the glare he gave you, Callie, and I’d watch it if I were you.”

“He’ll get over it,” she grinned. “I’ve done worse.”

“Well, if everything goes according to our plan today, then they should have little choice but to get the hint,” Dar’ja muttered.

“I’m still not certain about this plan of yours,” Zerith sighed. “It’s very risky.”

“Which is why Callie will keep a close eye on Alayne.”

“I will, Zerith,” Callie said seriously. “I’m not going to let her get sick. First of all, her getting sick would ruin our plans. Secondly, it just wouldn’t be funny.”

“Still, I don’t like it.”

“Would you prefer it was Ger’alin who was handling that assignment?”

“No,” Zerith sighed, “we do need him in with the rest of the fighters. And, Alayne does know the spell that will allow her to handle the aspects we need handled. I still just don’t like it.”

“How would you feel about it if there was no prank involved?” Callie asked.

“About the same. It’s risky. She’s not been completely well in a while and she did put herself under tremendous strain recently. But then, she’s going to be one of the best we have for this.”

Just then, Ger’alin and Alayne walked over and sat down at the table with the others. The pair were silent though neither seemed too angry or upset. “Good morning,” Alayne said calmly as she stirred honey into the porridge she’d gotten.

“Good morning,” Zerith replied. The others echoed him and he winced at the uncertainty of their tone.

“Ger’alin and I had a discussion last night,” the warlock stated. “We decided that if you want us to share a room, that’s fine with us. However, in the future, we ask that you be honest about it so we can get a second bed in there. We did share that tent in Desolace and you seem determined not to let us forget what he said to get me freed sooner. So, we’ll go along with this for now.”

“You don’t have to…” Zerith started to say, feeling guilty.

“But we will,” Ger’alin said firmly, not giving anyone a chance to argue. “Better we do it this way where at least we know what to expect than we do it another way and have me climb into bed with her. By the sun, if I want to get into bed with a woman, I’d damn well prefer to have planned it myself.”

Alayne flushed slightly and looked at him speculatively. She said nothing though, but calmly sipped at her tea. Zerith stared at his hands, wanting to blurt out everything.

“So, looking forward to the battle?” Ger’alin asked, glad to change the topic.

“Yes,” Zerith said, sighing in relief. “Unless you’re planning to kill Callie for that nasty prank she pulled. That I would have to say I’m not looking forward to.”

“We’re not going to kill you,” Ger’alin said lightly to the Forsaken. “Oh, you’ll get what’s coming to you, scaring me half to death like that just so you could get a few laughs.”

“Maiming, however, is not out of the question,” Alayne said lightly. “Come on,” she muttered, “let’s go see if everyone’s ready to fight.”

~*~*~*~

“We need a new plan,” Callie said. “One that they’re not likely to figure out in three minutes like the last one. I seriously doubt what we’ve got up our sleeves now is going to work like we hope.”

“Honestly, I don’t know what to do other than what we have planned already,” Dar’ja muttered.

“I’m out of ideas as well,” Zerith sighed. “They’re both pretty upset about all of it. I don’t think they’ll be trusting any of us, especially Callie, for a little while. Maybe we should just sit them down and tell them we know everything.”

“That may be the best idea,” Jez’ral agreed. “Light knows they’re not going to figure it out on their own. I swear, sometimes Alayne can be so slow she goes backwards.”

“Ger’alin can be about as bad,” Callie giggled. “Okay, how about this? We get them drunk. Not that there’s anything to drink around here other than all this water,” she muttered, gesturing to the lake.

“How about we leave them alone, instead, as Jez’ral suggests? We’ll go ahead with what we worked out and if that doesn’t get them started, then we just back off for a while. Either they’ll figure it out themselves or they won’t.” Zerith suggested  “Dar’ja, could you go tell Alayne that I want her to head up the groups searching the corpses after the battle? We will need to see if we can find out who is really in control of the naga,” Dar’ja nodded and clucked her horse to a faster walk, catching up to the other two and passing along the request.

“Do you think we could just leave them alone?” Callie grinned. “You’re talking about us, Zerith. Leaving them alone just isn’t going to happen. I wonder what they’re talking about up there, their heads together like that.”

“No idea. Probably figuring out how to get back at us,” Zerith huffed.

Near the head of the column, Alayne and Ger’alin rode so close together that their knees nearly touched. “I saw some itchweed,” Alayne whispered. “Just a little of it in their clothes and they’ll be scratching for a week.”

“That’s pretty good. I saw a blackcap or three. Just a little of that sprinkled into their food or drink and they’ll be running to the privy faster than you would believe.”

“I like the way you think.”

“Probably because it’s the same way you think.”

“I still can’t believe…”

“Don’t think about it,” he advised. “Best not to go into a battle upset or angry at anyone other than those you’re about to kill.”

“Still, the very idea…”

“Alayne, could we rehash this later, please? Battle,” he pleaded.

“Sure,” she said, staring at him uncomfortably. “Later. I’ll just go…join my squad now.”

“Try to remember the location of that itchweed,” he grinned. “We’ll get them back tomorrow. She couldn’t have been alone in that one. Zerith would have killed her otherwise.”

Alayne smiled and Ger’alin smiled back, forcing himself to look away after a few seconds, steeling himself for the fight to come. As they drew close to the naga-infested lake, he took several deep, calming breaths to quiet his mind and spirit. He hoped that he would be so tired from fighting today, on top of not having slept much at all last night, that he would drop off before he realized who else was in the room tonight. He shook his head, forcing the thoughts away. “Battle,” he told himself firmly, trying to forget how much he wanted to just tell her everything and beg her not to leave and plead with Zerith not to kill him then and there. “Battle,” he growled.

“They’re moving into position now,” Zerith observed, pulling up alongside Ger’alin. Callie stopped on the Blood Knight’s other side, carefully not looking at him. “Dismount,” the priest ordered, watching his command trickle through the crowd. “I’m really, really sorry,” he said, putting a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “I don’t know what Callie was thinking.”

“Well, I want to talk to you about that as well. Hopefully you can put a stop to this foolishness,” Ger’alin snorted. “But not right now. Someplace quieter, with less naga and no weapons laying about. Light, what did they do? Gallop all the way down the lake?” he said, seeing the runner from the caster group approach and wave that they were ready to begin.

“Alayne probably did. She loves to swim. She told me once that I would never understand just how confining female robes and undergarments are until I swam while wearing them. Dar’ja has said the same thing. And, to be completely honest, I’m not too interested in seeing if they’re exaggerating or not. Especially considering some of the things I’ve seen Dar’ja wear…or not wear, as the case may be,” he joked.

“I don’t want to think about that,” Ger’alin grimaced. “Let’s get into position ourselves and see if we can make this work like we planned.” Moving down the eastern side of the island, Ger’alin waited until the line was formed before charging in, his blade flashing as he let loose a tension-relieving primal shout, startling the naga, making them freeze as the Horde fighters dove in, pushing them back relentlessly towards the water’s edge. The Disorder of Azeroth completely outnumbered the naga, making the fight a short and sure one. The serpent-men, seeing that they were routed, tried to make an escape by diving into the deep waters of the lake. Ger’alin laughed when he saw the waters begin to bubble as the casters hidden in the depths began their attack. Wild-eyed snake-men surged back out of the lake, throwing themselves on the blades of the fighters. Almost before the battle had been joined, it was over, the casters bobbing to the surface and swimming back for the opposite shore to dry off and redress. Ger’alin forced himself to smile a friendly smile when he saw Alayne’s head break the surface of the water. She scanned the crowds, looking relieved to see everyone well, waved, and began swimming back. Ger’alin watched her go, keeping himself from swimming after her by effort of sheer will.

“One down, one to go,” Zerith muttered as he walked about, looking for injuries to heal. “What’s the matter with you?” the priest asked, seeing a stricken look on Ger’alin’s face.

“I’ll tell you about it later,” the man sighed. “For now, let’s focus on finishing up this battle and moving on to the next,” he said, kicking at the naga corpse at his feet. He’d forgotten about the after-effects of a good, rousing fight. Ger’alin grit his teeth in frustration when he realized he was going to be sharing a room with Alayne tonight. “Let’s round everyone up again and head to the northern pool. The druids must be finishing off the ones to the west even as we speak.” Zerith smiled at the fighter’s back. All was going according to plan.

~*~*~*~

Callie shuddered as they set her arm and leg. She might not feel pain as keenly as the living but having her limbs nearly severed hurt. Zerith hovered over her protectively, checking that the bandages and splints holding her broken arm and leg stable were doing their job. A Forsaken priest squatted on her other side, making suggestions which the sin’dorei followed carefully. More than once, the rogue nearly blacked out from the pain as the bones ground against each other.

“How is Ger’alin?” she asked, her voice tight with pain.

“He’ll be fine,” the priest said absently. “But I am not certain about Alayne.”

“What was it she did?” Callie whispered, closing her eyes. The agony seemed to recede as she let herself slip further into unconsciousness.

“I don’t know,” Zerith answered. “Jez’ral doesn’t, either. Whatever it was, it was effective. Now, let’s get you out of here and back to the inn.”

Zerith watched as the healers finished binding the wounds of the injured and secured them on the litters the druids had sent. The battle had seemed to go so well right up until it all went horribly wrong.

Flushed with the easy victory from the morning, the Disorder of Azeroth had made only minor alterations to their tactics. Alayne and the others who could use magic to enable them to remain underwater for much longer periods of time had gone off and taken up their positions at the far end of the lake. Alayne had been slightly tired and out-of-breath still from investigating the naga corpses from the first battle but her color was high and Zerith detected no signs of hypothermia from her or the others. So, he had let them carry on as planned, rotating out only those who were too likely to fall ill from further submersion in the chill waters of Zangarmarsh.

The rest of the Disorder had lined up near the stagnant, decaying area to the north of Swamprat Post. Making their way in an orderly line, they were able to swarm over the naga from the road while the underwater group picked off those submerged beneath the lake before joining their comrades on dry land and pressing the naga between them. Both sides had rotated their far groups, flanking the naga and encircling them. After that, the slaughter had seemed a done deal.

However, none of them had considered the threshers.

Just as the battle was beginning to wind down, Zerith had heard Callie cry out in pain and shock. A giant lobster-like creature was swimming up the shallows, holding the Forsaken in its vice-like claws and waving her the way a dog would shake a rat. The sea-monster had not lasted long against the Disorder of Azeroth but while Zerith had his hands full with tending to Callie and the others who had been injured by claw or poison, a few of the naga made their way out of the water and launched a desperate attack to avenge their brethren. Several of them had focused on Alayne as if knowing that she was the leader of the underwater squad. Ger’alin had hurried to defend her and stumbled when the water grew too deep. One of the myrmidons had managed to plant a barbed spear in the paladin’s thigh, wrenching his leg out from under him and staining the crystalline waters with sin’dorei blood.

Then, Alayne had done something that Zerith still did not understand. The naga had suddenly ceased attack altogether. Their scaly sapphire bodies began to darken as crimson and purple sores appeared on them. A few took on a greenish hue. It looked almost as if they were in the final stages of some kind of deadly contagion. Then, the naga had turned their spears on themselves.

“What was it she did?” the priest wondered. He’d never heard of magic that could do that. “I’ll have to get her to tell me about it when I’m done tending the wounded.” Focusing on his task, the priest set to tending those who needed him the most, setting aside concerns of his sister for a later time.

~*~*~*~

Alayne shivered as she finished drying off for the second time that day. Her eyes stung from keeping them open underwater and the chilly late evening air made her skin pebble. She tried to ignore the others around her, most pairing off to celebrate still being alive after such a close battle. She’d never felt the heat of victory in quite this manner before. Usually, she was too tired to care and more relieved than excited to be alive. “Oh, to be blissfully unaware of everything again! Besides, Zerith would skin me if I even thought about that. All I need is a good book to take my mind off…the fact that this is really, really getting on my nerves,” she muttered to herself as she finished pulling on her robe and redoing the buttons. “I should just tell Ger’alin the truth. I’m sure he’d be forgiving. Then, he’ll understand why I have to ask him to stay away from me for a while. Light, I wish I could make myself believe that.”

“Believe what?” Jez’ral asked. He didn’t understand why Zerith had ordered Alayne to search the corpses for clues this morning. There had not been time to ask for a reason, though, with Zerith having his hands full trying to heal the many wounded. The man must have been crazy; not that his sister was much better. She’d been quite stubborn about completing the task, despite Jez’ral’s demands and pleas that she give over and get out of the water.

“Nothing,” she yipped, her voice going up several octaves. “Make noise from now on. You startled me.”

“I’m sorry about that,” he said, “My word, Alayne. Your face…you could pass for a night elf right now.”

“I’m freezing,” Alayne whispered, her teeth clicking together.

“I can see,” he said sincerely. “Let’s get you back to the inn. A hot bath, some warm food and you’ll be back to normal in no time. I’d have thought a young woman like you would weather the chill of the water and the night air better than an aged ruin like me,” he teased, chaffing her arms and hiding his concern. The woman felt like a block of ice.

“Light, Jez’ral, you moan like you’re four hundred. You’re not even one hundred and twenty,” she shivered.

“I do not need a woman who’s not even seen the change of two decades to tell me how decrepit I’m allowed to be,” he said mockingly.

“That must have hit a nerve,” she teased back. “Where is everyone?” she asked as they walked back through the crowd seated on the road near the southern side of the lake. “I don’t see Zerith, Dar’ja, or Ger’alin.”

“Zerith and Dar’ja went back to the Refuge after they finished helping with the last bit of healing. They both looked pretty worn out. Ger’alin was sent back with them. Zerith had to threaten to knock him out to get him to stay in the litter; the man couldn’t walk or grip the saddle with his leg… Light, woman, can you walk?” he asked, seeing her nearly topple over with cold and fatigue. Scooping her up, he rubbed his hands over her back, trying to warm her a bit and quickening his steps. She needed to be in bed. She would be lucky if she didn’t take ill from her long immersion in the cold water. “It was close there, right at the end,” he said, desperate to keep her talking so she wouldn’t bite through her tongue the way her jaws were chattering.

“It was,” she shivered, remembering how desperately the casters had had to swim to keep the naga survivors from breaking through and overwhelming them. The melee ranks had caught the worst of it, though, being forced to wade hip-deep into the water and fight the serpents once it became apparent that they had gotten wise to the trick used to herd the others earlier in the afternoon and had forced the final moments of the battle onto ground, or rather, shallow water, where they were more agile. It had been sheer luck that no one had been killed, though several, including Ger’alin, had been seriously injured and almost drowned. Alayne remembered pulling the sputtering Blood Knight back onto the shore as the battle neared its end. He’d taken a naga spear through the leg and had fallen, unable to find his footing in the slick mud.

“What was it you did to those naga around Ger’alin?” Jez’ral asked, recalling the same scene. The Blood Knight had been splashing, trying to pull himself up onto his good leg but too panicked to find purchase. Jez’ral had been swimming towards him when, suddenly, Alayne was there, grabbing the man by his back plate and hauling him out of the water. Then…she’d cast a spell he’d not recognized, one that made rotting sores break out all over the serpent men, turning their turquoise scales an ugly, mottled purple and creating a foul stench. As the sores grew worse, the snakes grew more docile and then, without any explanation he could reach, the naga impaled themselves on their own spears.

“Something I learned in Northrend combined with knowing how to dominate lesser minds,” Alayne muttered. “And no, I won’t teach it to you. Light knows I wish I didn’t know how to do those things myself.”

“I don’t want to know,” he said quickly.

“I only did it because they were too close. I tried to terrify them into fleeing but couldn’t focus enough to make it stick,” she explained. “I didn’t have time to do anything else and I didn’t want to risk any of my spells landing on Ger’alin.”

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me. I’ve always wondered why you came back to being a warlock instead of honing the skills you learned…elsewhere. Most of the others who came back didn’t return to their old positions.”

“Because I don’t want to be one of them,” she replied. “I don’t like tapping into that power. I don’t like even knowing that it’s there to tap into. But I can’t get rid of it and I won’t teach it to anyone. Oh, Jez’ral, I’m not hungry,” she said when he started to sit her at a table in the inn. “I just want to go to sleep,” she muttered, her eyelids drooping.

“You should eat something or let me carry you down to the bathing rooms,” he said, concerned. “You’re still blue from being in that cold water so long.”

“I’ll be fine,” she mumbled. “I’ll wrap up in the blankets and won’t even notice I’m cold once I’m asleep. Just help me up to my room.”

“Have it your way, then,” he laughed, picking her up and carrying her again. “After I’m done tucking you in like a good little girl, I’m going down to soak the chill out of my ancient bones.”

“Don’t forget your cane, gramps,” she sighed tiredly. Reaching in her pocket when they were in front of the door, she tried to put the key in the lock, nearly dropping it with her shivering and shuddering as her body tried desperately to recover warmth.

“Let me take care of that,” Jez’ral said, setting her down and steadying her hand with his own. The door opened suddenly, Zerith standing there. His eyes widened when he saw just how chilled Alayne was and he ducked his head out into the hallway, shouting for Dar’ja. Pulling the two warlocks into the room, he methodically began rubbing Alayne’s hands, shoulders, and arms, cursing beneath his breath.

“We’ll get you in bed soon enough,” the priest muttered. Dar’ja came running into the room, carrying a thick woolen nightgown. Zerith used his belt knife to cut through the swollen knots and then grabbed a towel to dry Alayne off while Dar’ja helped toremove the soaked robes and dress Alayne in the woolen nightgown. She tossed the dampened robes into a pile of other clothes, shuddering at the squishing thud they made on the floorboard. Alayne must have been swimming for hours to get them that sodden.

“Has she eaten anything?” Dar’ja asked, sounding concerned.

“She wouldn’t. She said she just wanted to go to sleep,” Jez’ral replied.

“Well, she can’t go to sleep just yet. We’ll need her to stay awake long enough to warm up,” Zerith mumbled, picking Alayne up. The woman looked dazed and confused from the sudden activity.

“What are you doing?” Jez’ral heard Ger’alin mumble. “Let me get on the floor,” the fighter started to say.

“No,” Zerith said curtly. “Alayne’s half-frozen. I’m putting her in with you for a few hours until she warms up to something above ‘glacial.’”

“Zerith!” Ger’alin said, sounding scandalized.

“Get your mind out of the gutter, man,” the priest growled, pulling back the covers with one hand and setting his sister in the bed with the other. “How long was she in the water, Jez’ral?”

“Four or five hours, probably, but only because…,”

“I know. I’d completely forgotten about what I’d asked her to do this morning. You should probably go take a bath. I’ve had the attendants keeping the tubs filled with hot water. If I thought Alayne wouldn’t go into shock, I’d have her down there right now. Dar’ja, go bring some extra blankets to pile on her.”

“Zerith,” Alayne shuddered, “I can sleep on the floor.”

“No, you can’t,” he said firmly. “You do that and you’ll wake up dead. You’re not going to sleep now, either. You are going to lay here next to your good friend Ger’alin and the two of you are going to have a friendly little chat to keep you awake. Yes, I know you’re tired and you want to sleep but you can’t. Alayne, stay with me here! You have got to stay awake until I come back in here and say it’s safe for you to go to sleep,” he pleaded. His sister seemed to be drifting further and further out of consciousness.“Ger’alin, you stay where you are!” he shouted when he noticed that Ger’alin was trying to crawl out of the bed.“I didn’t poultice that leg so you could make it worse by sleeping on the wooden floor!Besides, I need your help with her! You stay right where you are and keep that leg propped up!” Pushing the protesting warlock down and pulling the covers over her, he stood over the bed, looking down worriedly. This was no prank; not anymore. Berating himself for almost killing her with his forgetfulness, he continued to chafe her hands, arms, shoulders, and face, breathing easier when her skin began to lighten. “Alayne!” he said loudly whenever she started to drift off to sleep.

“Zerith, she’s freezing!” Ger’alin said in shock. Alayne stared at the ceiling, not really seeing it, no longer really aware of anything other than her desire to just fall fast asleep. Ger’alin yelped and reached over, slapping her lightly to keep her from drifting off. He began speaking to her frantically, calling up anything he could interest her in long enough to keep her from drifting into a sleep from which she would not wake.

“No, she’s this lovely shade of light blue because someone painted her skin,” the priest snapped, hiding his relief. Ger’alin seemed more eager to be of assistance than concerned with ‘protecting Alayne’s good name.’ “Look, I’m going to go and mix something for her to help keep her from getting ill. I need you to keep her warm and awake while I do that.”

“I think I can manage that,” Ger’alin said, looking concerned. He tried to sit up, groaning and falling back whenever the muscles in his leg moved. Cursing under his breath, he rolled on one side, using his free arm to rub Alayne’s arms and hands, watching as her skin began to lighten back to normal as her temperature rose.

“You get her arms, I’ll take her legs. The potion can wait,” Zerith muttered, reaching under the sheets and pinching her on the calf. “Can you feel that, Alayne?” he asked.

“Ouch!” she cried, returning almost to full wakefulness. She gazed around, confused. She couldn’t really recall how she had gotten to her room.

“That’s a ‘yes’ if I’ve ever heard one,” Zerith chuckled, giddy with relief. “If you get tired, Ger’alin, just lay close to her. What she needs most is warmth and, frankly, that’s what I need you to give her. Keep her awake, though. I’m not too particular on how, mind you. If you need some privacy, just say the word,” he continued, his voice elaborately nonchalant.

“I would never…,” Ger’alin sputtered angrily.

“Look you,” Zerith sighed, “if you’re going to insist on taking this in the gutter, fine. Take it in the gutter with my blessing on both of you! I’ll be back in a little bit with something to try to keep her from getting sick.” Zerith ducked out into the hallway before he could burst out laughing at the expression on his friend’s face. “Confusion, embarrassment, and hope,” he grinned to himself, “not a bad mix at all. Too bad she’s half-frozen, though,” he sighed, hurrying down to his own room to mix a potion to ward off infections.

Ger’alin glared at the door after the priest left. “If this is someone’s horrible idea of a prank, I’m going to ground them into powder! No, Alayne,” he sighed, seeing her start to drift off again. Chaffing her arms and face with one hand, he prodded her hard in the side with the other whenever she began to nod off. “I may ground them into powder regardless,” he muttered. “This is torture!”

~*~*~*~

“Where did you say the itchweed was?” Ger’alin asked the next morning. He and Alayne had snuck out of the inn at first light, determined to get back at the others for the recent round of not-very-amusing pranks. First Callie and now Zerith. Alayne wondered what Jez’ral had up his sleeve or if it would be Dar’ja’s turn next.

“Just south of the Refuge,” she muttered tiredly. Ger’alin had not let her fall asleep until an hour before daybreak, once her temperature had risen enough to pull her out of the danger zone. “I’m really sorry for keeping you up all night. After we find the itchweed and powder their clothes with it, you can take a nap.”

“Don’t worry about me so much,” he said gently. “I’m not the one who was blue with cold. I wonder what he was thinking.”

“Who? Zerith? I’ve given up trying to figure that one out. It seems to amuse all of them to keep throwing us together. This has to be Dar’ja’s idea of payback for the centaur wedding in Desolace.”

“We’ll be on our guard from now on. I hope we can leave this swamp soon. I’ll start sleeping in my tent again and that should put an end to this nonsense.”

“Indeed,” Alayne agreed, not looking at him at all. “I’m sure you’ll be happy to be able to sleep without having to worry about someone shoving you in with me or me in with you.”

“You must be looking forward to being secure in your own bed,” he replied, also not looking at her. Neither said anything; the silence stretched out into awkwardness. Finally, Alayne sighed and turned to look at Ger’alin, a confession ready on her lips. As she moved, she saw something familiar out of the corner of her eye. Smiling, she nodded.

“There it is,” she said, pointing. “I’ll hold the sack while you pluck off the leaves. Don’t let any touch you. It will give you a rash that will last for days. It would make that nap nigh on impossible.”

“I’ll be careful, then,” he grinned. “How did you learn about this, anyway? Isn’t your brother the tree-hugger?”

“Mir’el and Jez’ral,” she answered, blushing furiously. “It’s a very long, very disturbing, very explicit tale that you should never, under any circumstances, allow them to tell you. I know I was much happier before I heard it.”

“Then why did you…,”

“Callie and her big mouth.”

“We’ll put an extra dose in for her, then,” he said, smiling. Alayne smiled back and, for a moment, Ger’alin almost forgot to breathe. Alayne’s expression changed from one of delight to one of slight confusion as he continued to stare at her.

“Ger’alin, what’s…?” she asked.

“Ssh,” he said, his ears twitching as he heard voices from nearby. Alayne listened intently as well, recognizing Zerith, Callie, Dar’ja, and Jez’ral’s voices. “I’ll bet they’re up to something,” he mouthed. “Let’s sneak up on them and see what they’re plotting.” Alayne nodded and set the sack down, following him closely and quietly. The other four were sitting by the lake, skipping stones.

“I can’t believe they snuck out so early,” Jez’ral was saying as Alayne and Ger’alin hid themselves behind one of the looming mushrooms. “He could barely stand last night and she was like a block of ice. Are they both crazy?”

“If the innkeeper has the right of it, they’re both angry,” Zerith sighed. “He said he overheard them vowing to make us regret the constant throwing them together.”

“And we will,” Alayne mouthed, grinning at Ger’alin.

“I wonder why they keep doing it?” he said back silently. Alayne shrugged, somewhat guiltily. She suspected Zerith was trying to “help out” in his own way. The warlock resolved to speak with the priest and explain that he needed to leave poor Ger’alin alone.

“Okay, so trying to trick him into climbing into bed with her didn’t work,” Callie said, lifting a finger. “Zerith’s idiotic plan didn’t work either.”

“Zerith’s idiotic plan?” Ger’alin mouthed, looking confused.

“It wasn’t completely my idea,” he growled defensively. “I seem to remember some of you arguing for it. Besides, in the rush of what happened after that second battle yesterday, I’d completely forgotten about it!” Zerith said defensively. “If you think I haven’t been kicking myself for almost killing my sister, you’re wrong. Why else would I be out here looking for her? She shouldn’t be out of bed and neither should he.”

“Still, it didn’t work,” Callie sighed.

“Under normal circumstances and me not forgetting everything because I was busy keeping people alive, it might have. After all, he had to keep his hands on her all night to get her warmed up enough. I would have figured that that plus the normal thrill you get after surviving a battle would have been enough to put paid to all this nonsense.”

“Zerith!” Callie said, sounding shocked. “You’re a priest!”

Zerith groaned. “I’m a priest, not a monk! I’m also a married man who knows very well the ways that men and women react when put in a situation that would let them get away with it. I seem to recall that being how Dar’ja and I got married! Besides, neither one of them is a priest!” he shouted, angry at himself.

“We should just tell them,” Dar’ja sighed, reaching over to place a calming hand on her husband’s leg. “This constant ‘putting them in the same room or trying to trick them into it’ is just going to get us in trouble and make things worse.”

“What are they trying to trick us into?” Alayne wondered. “And why?”

“It is becoming painfully obvious that they aren’t going to actually tell each other, no matter how much we want them to,” Callie sighed.

“I told you, Alayne can be so dense sometimes that she’s going to develop her own gravitational pull,” Jez’ral joked.

“If only Ger’alin would get caught in her orbit,” Callie grinned. “So, we’re agreed, we just sit them down when we find them and tell them.”

“Their reactions will be priceless,” Dar’ja agreed.

“Ger’alin, how I love you!” Jez’ral said, mimicking his assistant’s alto voice. “I’ve been moping around for weeks pining away for you!”

Before they could say another word, Alayne sprinted off, mortified. Ger’alin gaped at what he had just heard and then stared at the woman who was running away from him as quickly as her weary legs would carry her. He followed after her quickly and silently, relief and joy tugging his lips into a near-smirking grin.

~*~*~*~

He caught up to Alayne nearly on the other side of Zangarmarsh. She was leaning against a giant mushroom, one hand clutching her side while she gasped for breath and wiped tears away from her cheeks. He walked up behind her, hoping she wouldn’t bolt again, dragging his leg and wishing he’d thought to swing back by the Refuge to get his horse.

“Alayne?” he said softly, kindly, putting a hand on her shoulder. “Alayne, what’s the matter? What, do you think I’ll be angry or upset with you? Talk to me,” he whispered, hating the way that she was shuddering and sobbing, refusing to even look at him. “I’m not upset at all,” he continued, hoping to calm her. “Actually, I…Alayne, please calm down!” he pleaded, feeling a lump forming in his own throat. “Were they just teasing or were they being serious? Just tell me the truth; I won’t be upset either way.”

“Light, forgive me,” she said, her voice quavering and breaking. “No, they weren’t teasing. I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

“How long have you…,”

“I don’t know…it all started when I couldn’t find a place to read and I saw you down by the lake. You looked so handsome and happy there and all of a sudden I couldn’t take my eyes off you. Then I started thinking about how nice and sweet and kind you were and how you always used to make me laugh and how I could sometimes tell you things I couldn’t even tell Zerith and then the next thing I knew I was fighting myself to keep from throwing myself at you constantly thinking about how I just wanted to be close to you always but whenever I let myself get close to you, all I could think about was how much I just wanted to tell you everything but then I know that you think of me as a sister and I didn’t want to disgust you and I figured I would get over it soon enough…”

“Breathe, woman,” he whispered, feeling protective of her and wishing she would turn around to see the look on his face. He thought his heart might fly out of his chest with joy.

“And then I saw you with Ta’sia and I wanted to kill the both of you but I couldn’t because you would probably be upset with me if I killed your girlfriend because I thought she was even though she wasn’t and I really, really, really wanted to beat the ever-living snot out of her, you know. So, I came out here to get away from you because I couldn’t stop thinking about you and I hated that because you were with her and she seemed nice, I know, it was an act, but she seemed nice and I liked her but I really didn’t want to be around the pair of you so I came out here with Jez’ral…”

“Take another breath, Alayne,” he said, his grin growing broader as his heart continued to pound in eagerness and relief.

“Came out here with him and Mir’el was telling me that since I’m practically twenty or will be next winter I should start looking and there were lots of men in Outland but I didn’t want to look because I wanted you but you were with her. And I really wanted to kill her sometimes because I was so jealous but then you came out here following me and she came and the two of you seemed happy sometimes but I kept hoping you would break up and then you did and she blamed it on me and I felt horrible and Zerith and Dar’ja found out and I was terrified that Callie would find out and then tell you about it and I’m really sorry about this whole thing and can we stay friends because I really am sorry and I’ll get over it one day and I’ll try not to be jealous ever again but I can’t stay here another second because this is driving me crazy having you so close! I feel like you’re carrying around a little piece of my soul and you don’t even notice it and…”

“Catch your breath, Alayne. Is that everything?” he grinned, feeling as if his head would float right off of his shoulders.

“Yes. Mostly. I may have forgotten one or two points but I can’t remember them right now but that is the main bit. I’m really sorry,” she said, shivering with a combination of nerves and weariness.

“Is that why you were moping around back home?” he whispered in her ear, keeping his hands on her shoulders.

“Yes.”

“You think I’m handsome?”

“Yes. And charming and sweet and caring and wise in the ways of common sense which is something I envy and respect you for on top of the fact that you are brave and courageous and fun to be around with a wonderful sense of humor…”

“Do you realize that you babble and ramble when you’re nervous?” he chuckled softly in her ear. He felt her shiver and grinned at her reaction.

“I’ll shut up now.”

“Let me know when you’ve got your breath back.”

“I’m fine,” she said, drawing a ragged and shuddering breath. Ger’alin watched her until it seemed that her breathing was mostly back to normal.“I’m sorry about all this,” she sighed, squeezing her eyes shut and turning to face him. “It’s just that…”

“Alayne,” he whispered. She opened one eye cautiously, afraid to look at him. Her expression changed from one of dread to one of absolute bewilderment when she saw the man smiling at her, his face lit up like the sun. She had less than a second to wonder at it before she found her feet dangling off the ground. Ger’alin’s arms wrapped around her, pressing her against him as his lips pressed against hers, first tentatively and then hungrily. Alayne stared ahead in amazement before closing her eyes and kissing him back just as passionately as he was kissing her. She snaked her arms around his shoulders, pulling herself more tightly against him and burying her fingers in his long hair.

“Light, woman, you have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that!” he said minutes later while she leaned her cheek on his shoulder and tried to catch her breath. She chuckled; he sounded a touch breathless himself. Whispering softly in her ear, he said, “You know, I have just a little confession to make myself…”

~*~*~*~

“Do you want to go back and try to find that itchweed?” Alayne asked as they began walking back towards the Cenarion Refuge.

“Yes. They deserve it for the constant shoving us in bed together,” he laughed. “Speaking of that, what do you want to do about telling them?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” she grinned. “Half of me wants to keep this between us and let them find out at some point in the future.”

“And the other half?”

“Would like to keep it between us for the rest of the day so that Zerith doesn’t make us stop sharing a room. Light, but I could use a good nap,” she sighed. “I’ll take the floor. You’re limping,” she noticed. “I’m sorry for running so far. Light, we’re clear on the other side of Zangarmarsh!”

“Don’t be. It was worth the chase,” he said, wrapping an arm around her waist. “Though, do you think your fel steed could carry both of us? I didn’t get Lucky.” His face turned crimson when Alayne doubled over laughing so hard that tears streamed from her eyes. “Okay, that was not what I meant,” he sighed, grinning. “That’s right, laugh it up, woman.”

“I’m sorry,” she wheezed. “Yes, he’d probably carry both of us. We’ll take it slow,” she said slyly.

“I walked right into that one, didn’t I?”

“I won’t laugh at you anymore, I promise.”

“Don’t promise that,” he chuckled. “I like seeing you laugh. I like seeing you smile, or sleep, or read…okay, I like seeing you, end of statement.” Alayne gave him a smile that lit up her entire face, rivaling the sun for brightness, as she summoned her fel steed. Pulling herself up, she helped Ger’alin climb up behind her, sighing contentedly when he put his arms around her as she clucked the demonic horse to a walk. “So, where do we go from here?”

“We’ll just follow the road back east. It should lead us straight into the Refuge.”

“No,” he laughed, “that’s not what I meant.”

“Oh. You meant about us,” she smiled. “Well, I’m content to take each day as it comes. And I’ll sleep on the floor.”

“No, you won’t.”

“You need to keep your leg propped up.”

“I will put my sword between us but I do not want to be apart from you anymore than I have to be,” he said. “I like watching you sleep. I like listening to you babble in your sleep.”

“I have to admit, I did miss hearing you snore and ramble when first Jez’ral and I came out to Outland,” she grinned. “What does ‘putting your sword between us’ mean?”

“A legend you don’t know about?” he asked in mock horror.

“It’s not an elven one, I know that much.”

“Old human tale; some man was tasked with escorting his tribal leader’s son’s future wife to their tribal grounds. The man set out on his journey and, when he first laid eyes on the bride-to-be, he was smitten with her, and she with him. He had given his oath, though, to his tribal leader. That night, when they stopped to make camp, they camped in a small cave for safety. To show that he would not touch her, he laid his sword between them and made her swear to stab him with it if he gave into temptation to break his oath.”

“And then what happened?”

“I’ve forgotten,” he said, smiling ruefully. “The simple fact is that if one of us is going to sleep on the floor, it will be me. Actually, Alayne…Light, help me, I know that we’ve been together all of maybe a half hour at this point. I know that you have the same notions of propriety that I have and I know that my father would come back from the dead and kill me if he could for rushing this…but…”

“But?” Alayne asked, feeling her stomach hover up around her shoulders.

“As I was saying, I don’t want us to be apart. The whole year you were gone, I felt as if part of me, the best part, had vanished. All I could do to ease the pain was drink until I could barely stand! I know this is sudden. I’m willing to wait until roses bloom on Icecrown Glacier and Arthas remembers his heart if that’s what you want. Just promise me you won’t ever…or rather…I guess what I’m getting at is…”

“Looks like I’m not the only one who babbles when nervous,” Alayne smiled, looking back over her shoulder. Ger’alin flushed and began stammering. Oddly, that calmed Alayne down further. “I like it,” she laughed, giggling at the look of chagrin on his face.

“How can you put up with an oaf like me?” he sighed.

“Easy,” she said, taking a deep breath. “I put up with you because I love you.”

“You…I love you, too,” he grinned. “Well, what I’m beating around the bush about is this: I want to marry you.” He held his breath, feeling fire and ice course through his veins while she pondered the question. His face burned; he felt like an oaf, saying it out like that, scarcely even an hour after kissing her for the first time.

“You want to marry me?” she said slowly, wondering if she’d just heard that correctly.

“Yes,” he said nervously. “I know it’s sudden but…”

“It’s not,” she grinned. “I think we should go ahead and get married, especially considering that we’ve been engaged for,” she stopped to calculate, “almost two years now.” Ger’alin worked that out, laughing when he realized she was counting the time he’d promised to marry her after waking up in her room following a night of drinking.

“I was serious then and I’m serious now,” he laughed. “Would you?”

“Yes, of course, I’ll marry you,” she laughed happily. Ger’alin turned her to face him and kissed her again, this time even more thoroughly than he had the first time. “I should agree to marry you more often,” she said dizzily when he finally let her catch her breath again.Snuggling up against his chest and clucking to the fel steed to start walking, she sighed, “Now, let’s get back to the Refuge and take a nap. You don’t have to put your sword between us, though. I think the innkeeper –not to mention Zerith –would be upset if we wound up needing stitches because we cut ourselves on it in our sleep. Honestly, that sounds like an absolutely barbaric custom,” she muttered, sounding a trifle annoyed when Ger’alin buried his face in her shoulder and laughed until tears streamed from his eyes.

~*~*~*~

Zerith and the others slunk back to the inn with the noon sun. They’d seen no sign of Alayne or Ger’alin. “We’ll round up the entire Disorder of Azeroth and go out looking for them,” he sighed. The other three nodded wearily. “Tau’re,” he said, seeing the tauren sitting in the hallway outside of Alayne’s room. “I need you to gather up everyone who can sit a saddle. Ger’alin and Alayne are missing.”

“No, they aren’t,” the tauren said, his deep voice sounding amused. “They’re asleep. They came back around mid-morning.”

“They did?”

“Yes. Alayne was dragging a sack filled with plant samples and helping Ger’alin limp around. I don’t think either of them got much sleep so, after they’d washed up, they said they would be napping and asked me to let you know.”

“I see. They’re both in there, asleep,” he said flatly.

“I suppose they’re asleep. They just ducked in there about a half-hour ago.”

“Thank you, Tau’re,” he said, moving around the tauren to knock on the door. Without waiting for an invitation, he shoved it open, surprised to find it unlocked. He began backing out of the room silently when he noticed that, just as Tau’re had said, the two were sound asleep. Apparently they had come to some accommodation about sharing the bed. Ger’alin lay on his back with his leg propped up beneath the covers. His soft snores and occasional speech did not disturb Alayne at all. She lay next to him, shivering in her sleep. On some level, the paladin seemed aware of it because whenever she shuddered, his arm, stretched under and around her, tightened, pulling her in closer to him. Alayne wore the thick woolen nightdress Dar’ja had put on her and had wrapped her hands in the long sleeves. Zerith studied them from the door, half-expecting some kind of prank on their part. However, their slow, even breaths finally convinced the priest that they really were asleep. Tiptoeing the rest of the way out of the room, he closed the door softly and shook his head.

“What’s going on in there?” Callie asked, craning her neck to try to see over Zerith’s shoulder as he finished pulling the door closed.

“They’re sound asleep,” he whispered, a grin tugging at his lips. “I guess they must have been pretty upset about what we did last night. And, knowing Alayne, she would have wanted to get out to work off the steam. Ger’alin probably went with her to keep her from getting sick and then they came back here and are sound asleep. They look so cute,” he chuckled.

“I want to see,” Callie whined.

“No,” Zerith said, shaking his head. “Let them sleep. Light knows that they probably were awake until dawn. I’ll go in there in a few hours and wake them up to eat and give both of them something to take against illness. Now, we’d better go see plants they gathered. I’ve been wanting to get a close look at several of the species found in these parts.”

The rogue followed Zerith to the room he and Dar’ja were sharing. Jez’ral and she were already in there waiting to hear what the priest had to say. “They’re asleep,” he said, describing the scene he’d witnessed when he’d peaked in on them. “Where’s the bag?” he asked.

“What bag?” Jez’ral muttered, mystified.

“Tau’re said that Alayne came back here dragging a bag full of plant samples. I didn’t see it in their room so I assumed she’d carried it in here.”

“Well, there was an empty satchel over there with the wash,” Dar’ja said slowly. “It looked like it’d been loaded with leaves of various kinds. But, I shook it out the window before I put it in with the wash again. It was empty, though, so I don’t think your samples were in there.”

“I’ll just have to wait until they wake up to ask her where she put them, then,” Zerith nodded. “Now, while we’re all here, I want to know how long you’re planning to stay here in Zangarmarsh before moving on, Jez’ral. And, let’s come up with some more possible avenues for getting those two together. Only, let’s keep these plans out of the “nearly getting one or both of them killed” level of danger.”

Zerith flopped down on the bed and Dar’ja sat down next to him. Callie took the seat she’d just left and Jez’ral furrowed his brow in thought. After several minutes of silence, the warlock glanced up, confused to see Zerith wriggling as if he were trying to scratch an itch in the middle of his back. Dar’ja was rubbing unconsciously at her legs. Jez’ral grinned ruefully when he realized that he was scratching the back of his neck absently. Then, when he glanced over at Callie and saw the Forsaken squirming in her seat, his bemusement turned to anxiety.

“I can’t come up with anything,” the priest muttered irritably as his twitching increased. “And, I’m starting to feel as if I might be coming down with something myself.”

“You could be,” Dar’ja muttered sullenly. “Yesterday was enough to make anyone ill. I know I’m not feeling so great myself right now.”

“I feel as if the back of my neck is on fire,” Jez’ral said carefully.

“I’m just itchy,” Callie added. “I guess it’s just nerves.”

Zerith rolled over on his stomach and pushed himself off the bed. The mattress crinkled oddly, making crackling noises as the priest and his wife shifted on it. Jez’ral’s eyes opened wider in alarm. He shifted on his own seat, hearing a similar noise. Swearing softly, he launched himself out of the chair and pulled the two younger elves off the bed before he tore the sheets off of it. “Oh no!” he shouted. The bed was covered liberally with a plant that looked very much like one he knew. Going over to the chairs, he lifted the cushions off them, seeing the same leaves spread over them. The itching sensation increased as he identified the cause.

“What is it?” Zerith asked.

“Itchweed,” Jez’ral groaned. “I’m going to kill her.”

~*~*~*~

Alayne cautiously opened one eye when she heard the door close. Tiptoeing over to it, she listened intently for Zerith’s footsteps to recede. She stifled a giggle when she overheard what her brother was saying to Callie. Then, the two of them began to walk away. Moving quickly, she shoved the armoire against the door. Ger’alin rolled off the bed and began pulling out the shield weights he had brought into the room from beneath the bed. Sliding them over the floor, he limped to the armoire and helped Alayne heft them inside, giving the large obstruction a bit more weight. Satisfied that it would take Tau’re running at full speed to force open the door, he grinned at Alayne as the pair of them made their way back to the bed.

“They’re going to kill us,” he chuckled.

“They’d have to get in here first,” she grinned, laying down next to him and making certain his leg was propped up comfortably before she pulled the blankets over both of them.

“I wonder if they’ll figure it out before Dar’ja and Zerith pull back the sheets to go to sleep tonight.”

“Probably,” she giggled. “Still, they deserve it. I wonder how long they intended to keep torturing us instead of telling us the truth.”

“Well, I’m just happy we know,” he smiled. “It makes sharing the room much less stressful now that I don’t have to worry about confessing everything while I’m unconscious and then waking up to you staring at me in horror.”

“It does,” she agreed. “It means I no longer have to feel guilty about wanting to do this,” she grinned as she snuggled up against his side and began stroking his cheek. He turned his head and kissed her fingertips.

“It also means I don’t have to feel guilty for wanting to do this,” he said as he tucked a finger under her chin and pulled her face close to his.

Several minutes later, he pulled back and smiled at her. “You know,” he teased, only half-joking, “maybe we should go get your brother and just get it over with so that I don’t have to feel guilty about wanting to do more.”

“I’m sure we can both be patient for a few days…or weeks…until he gets over being angry at us,” she said breathlessly. “Or, if not, I’m sure we could convince one of the druids to marry us.”

“That sounds like a plan,” he agreed, kissing her again.

A sudden banging on the door broke the kiss.

“Alayne Dawnrunner!” Jez’ral shouted angrily. “I am going to skin you and salt your hide for this!”

“Sounds like someone’s upset with you,” Ger’alin teased.

“Ask me if I care,” she retorted, snuggling against him.

“Do you care?”

“Not a whit.”

“Alayne!” Zerith shouted. “Alayne, Ger’alin! Get out here right now!”

“Would you like to go first or should I?” Ger’alin asked.

“Let them wait. I don’t feel like moving just yet. I’m too comfortable where I am.”

The door clattered against the weighted-down armoire as someone out in the hall tried to open it. “Some people are trying to sleep here!” Ger’alin shouted.

“Some people are about to be in a lot of trouble if they don’t move whatever is blocking their door!” Zerith threatened direly.

“Those same some people are too damned happy where they are right now doing what they’re doing to be bothered to get up and move a very heavily weighted-down armoire,” Alayne shouted back. “That’s a rather obvious do-not-disturb sign if you ask me!”

“Get out here right. This. Minute!” Jez’ral roared.

“Wait,” Zerith called out hesitantly and suspiciously, “what are you doing in there?”

“We were making out until you came bothering us!” Ger’alin replied loudly.

“That’s not funny!”

“It wasn’t intended to be a joke!”

“That’s still not funny!”

“What, do you want a peep show or something?”

“That’s even less funny!”

“The two of you can’t hide out in there forever, you know!”

“We’ll come out when we’re damned well done making out and have decided to go ahead and get married so we can push things a little further if you catch my drift, Reverend Father,” Ger’alin said loudly. “Now, could you kindly quit trying to break into our room? We’ve always given you and Dar’ja the privacy you required.”

Zerith swore loudly. “Get your asses out here in this hallway right this minute!”

“I’m sorry,” Alayne shouted back, “but I’m afraid that my gravitational pull is too great to allow that to happen!”

There was dead silence from the corridor.

“I think he may have fainted,” Ger’alin quipped. “Now, where were we?”

“Right here,” she chuckled as she leaned back over him.

“The two of you have exactly ten seconds to get out here in this hallway fully dressed before I have someone set fire to this door and that armoire and come in there after you myself!” Zerith yelled.

“No need to do that,” Ger’alin called out helpfully. “It’s quite hot enough in here already!”

Zerith began laughing, his laughter tinged with an edge of panic. “Please, for the love of all that is holy, get out here now!”

“No,” Alayne called out.

“Come on!”

“No,” she repeated. “You’ll just throw the itchweed at us. I know how your minds work. Now, if the itching is getting to you, go look under your bed. There’s a jar of ointment there. Rub that on and don’t scratch and you should be fine in another couple of days. You will want to have the bed sheets and your clothes thoroughly laundered, though. Tell the druids to use the strongest soap they have. Now, if you’ll excuse us…” she trailed off, grinning at Ger’alin before she kissed him again. This time, neither of them let the continued banging at the door or shouting from the hallway interrupt them.

~*~*~*~

Ger’alin and Alayne gingerly made their way down the stairs for supper. They held hands and grinned like fools at each other while keeping an eye out for the rest of the Disorder of Azeroth. The couple knew they were in for some teasing over the events of the day but neither one cared. Only their stomachs growling at them had convinced them to get out of bed and come down to find food.

A swell of applause interspersed with crude banter came crashing over the common room as the two left the staircase. Alayne blushed and ducked her head while Ger’alin threw his head back and laughed heartily. Alayne tried to hide behind the paladin, embarrassed at the attention they were drawing. Ger’alin bent down and kissed her, earning another round of applause, and then led her to the table where the others were sitting.

Dar’ja, Zerith, Jez’ral, and Callie were a comic sight covered in ointment. The four glared at the couple but could not restrain the grins and smiles trying to spread across their faces. Tau’re carried over a large plate of meat and set it down in front of Ger’alin with a comment that the man would need his stamina that made Alayne blush even more furiously than she was already. The warlock dashed to the kitchens to fetch her own food, not certain she wanted to trust what the others would bring her.

“So, you two finally figured it out,” Zerith snorted. “I’m still mad at both of you about the itchweed. That was just mean. But, I want to know how you figured it out and why you didn’t say anything if you overheard us plotting this morning.”

“That’s actually how we found out,” Ger’alin said lightly. “Neither one of us got much sleep last night. Between me fighting to keep myself from being less than a perfect gentleman and her being half-frozen, it wasn’t a night for restful slumber. Once she finally did warm up a little, she was angry. So, I convinced her to rest until just a hair after dawn when she insisted on going down and taking a bath. After that, she said she was still too angry to sleep and that she was going to go out and gather some itchweed we’d found yesterday. I decided to go with her and, long story short, we stumbled across the four of you looking for us. We overheard what you were saying and then Alayne bolted clear over to Nagrand before I caught up with her. She and I had a very calm, very mature discussion over what we’d heard and then decided, quite calmly and rationally with no emotion involved whatsoever that our feelings were mutual and that we should get married.”

“What do you mean rationally and without emotion?” Dar’ja scoffed.

“By that I mean that we let our mouths do all the talking.”

“Were vocal cords involved at all?” Callie snorted.

“Not really, no.”

“You want to get married?” Zerith asked, clinging to the only bit he had understood and cared to concentrate on.

“Yes,” Ger’alin said with such simple sincerity that Zerith could no longer be angry with him. The priest grinned and then started laughing. “Would you be willing to do the honors once we get back to Silvermoon? Alayne says that Mir’el would want to be there otherwise we’d be having the wedding right here and right now.”

“You two will have to get separate rooms if you’re going to wait that long,” Zerith chuckled.

“No, we will not,” Alayne said as she sat back down at the table. “We can restrain ourselves and we’d much rather spend the time we have together. Besides,” she added with a chuckle, “it’s nice to have someone who won’t mock you for babbling in your sleep.”

“Very well,” the priest conceded with a smile. “Be good, then, and I’ll marry you both when we get back to Silvermoon. And no centaur vows. I promise.”

~*~*~*~

Zerith groaned and pushed himself up, his ears twitching back and forth wildly. “That had better not be what it sounds like,” he muttered irritably, hearing shouts. Listening for another few seconds, he reached over and shook Dar’ja awake. “Wake up,” he hissed as he leapt out of the bed. “I think we’re under attack.” Her eyes popped open and she sat bolt upright as an inhuman shriek rang through the inn. Following her husband’s example, she quickly dressed and grabbed her sword, running out in the hallway only seconds behind Zerith.

Fighters and magi from the Disorder of Azeroth fought in the hallways, trying to push the naga invaders out of the building. Zerith was pressed against the wall, Ger’alin standing in front of him hacking away at one of the snake-men who had made it up the stairs. “Where’s Alayne?” Dar’ja asked, pitching her voice so she could be heard over the din of battle. Ger’alin shook his head irritably, nodding towards the stairs. Dar’ja flanked the serpent he fought, helping him to bring it down. Glancing the direction he’d nodded, she ran to keep her sister-by-marriage from being overwhelmed. She could hear Ger’alin limping after her, cursing under his breath as Alayne cast her spells while her fel guard blocked the stairway, preventing naga from coming any further. Jez’ral stood next to her, his own fel guard fighting alongside Alayne’s, all of his concentration centered on keeping the thing enslaved. Ger’alin grabbed the handrail and swung himself over and in front of the fel guards, his leg nearly giving out when he landed. Dar’ja pushed in front of the two warlocks, reaching out and channeling Light-energies into Ger’alin to keep the man on his feet while he and the two demons pressed the naga back down to the main floor of the inn.

“What is going on here?” Zerith wondered aloud as he hurried down the stairs after Ger’alin and Dar’ja had cleared them. Alayne shook her head and shrugged. Jez’ral dismissed his fel guard, freeing himself to cast spells without having to worry about the thing running amuck. Dark circles under the man’s eyes attested to the effort staying in the battle was taking from him.

“Get out of there!” Ger’alin screamed from near the front of the inn. “They’ve set it aflame! No, Alayne, where are you going, get out of there!” he called after the woman. Alayne was running back to their room, gathering her books and the samples she and Jez’ral had collected in HellfirePeninsula. Out in the hallway, she could hear everyone else running to get out of the inn. Slinging her sack over her shoulder and praying that the samples wouldn’t break open, she hurried after them, coughing as the smoke began to billow in from outside. Ger’alin met her in the hallway, waving his hand in front of his face, his eyes blazing in anger and fear. “Books aren’t worth dying for!” he shouted at her as he grabbed her arm and hauled her down the stairs. She staggered after him, coughing and waving her free hand in front of her eyes, trying to brush away the stinging smoke. Once out in the street, Ger’alin let go of her and collapsed, his leg finally giving way. “Woman, what was going through your mind?”

“That it would be a shame to have to trek all the way back through HellfirePeninsula and redo all the work we’ve already done,” she snapped, glaring down at him. “I didn’t realize the fire was spreading so quickly. I’m sorry.”

“Just don’t ever do anything like that again. If I tell you to get out, you get out and leave the books behind! Better they burn than you.” Alayne gave a guilty start as some of the samples clinked together in the bag behind her. “That fire didn’t spread that quickly. I think the naga must have set it alight before any of us were even awake,” he grumbled, rubbing his leg. The druids were working quickly, the two ancients throwing water from the lake onto the burning buildings. The fires were flickering out and, for a wonder, most of the buildings remained standing. Ger’alin blinked when it looked as if the buildings were growing, the wood and vines moving to cover holes, burns, and damage from the fighting.

“At any rate, we’d better get out of here,” Zerith said as he jogged past. “Callie and Davril managed to turn the mounts loose from the stables. Most of them have bolted, though. We’ll make for Swamprat Post,” he announced in a carrying tone. “Everyone regroup there. Try to stay together and keep your weapons ready. Just because the naga have retreated doesn’t mean the battle’s over. Ger’alin,” he said in a softer tone, “if I can spare the energy before we leave, I’ll heal that leg completely. Don’t look so grateful,” he said, cocking his eyebrows at the Blood Knight and the warlock, “we might need you to fight.”

~*~*~*~

Zerith’s jaw dropped as he and the last stragglers from the Cenarion Refuge rode up to Swamprat Post. Only ashes remained of the Horde’s base. Ger’alin strode through the debris, lifting still-smoking pieces of wood up and tossing them aside, digging through the rubble for survivors. Jez’ral snorted when he saw a fel guard walk over and help the Blood Knight lift a heavy beam from the remnants of the settlement’s inn. “I’ll bet Mir’el never envisioned a demon doing that,” he thought to himself.

“What happened here?” Zerith asked, jogging up to Tau’re.

“The naga attacked here as well. They weren’t as lucky as we were. Most were caught asleep. The guards were quickly overrun. Ger’alin sent riders out to Zabra’jin, to see how they fared. He thinks the Alliance was attacked as well; we can see smoke from where Telredor should be.”

“We must have really made them angry,” Zerith sighed softly. “Tell any Forsaken who are able to stand watch to do so. I’ll make it up to them later. Tell all of the others who aren’t currently involved in digging through the debris to get some sleep. Tell Callie to have the watchers wake us at mid-morning,” he ordered the tauren. Tau’re nodded and stomped off to do as directed. The priest hurried over to the smoldering remains of the inn, glancing around to see if any needed healing. Seeing none whom he could help, he stepped gingerly through the rubble to help Ger’alin lift another heavy wooden plank. The Blood Knight glared at him when Zerith nearly dropped the heavy board, nodding when Alayne’s fel guard took up from the priest and helped him heave it out of the way. “This is our fault,” Zerith whispered to Ger’alin when the man stopped to catch his breath.

“No, it’s not,” Ger’alin growled breathlessly.

“But we stirred them up. We’ll have to figure out some way to make amends. Though, how we can make up for getting dozens of innocent people killed is beyond me,” he sighed.

“Zerith, shut up and use your brain for a second,” Ger’alin muttered as he bent to shove more flooring out of the way. “No one here,” he sighed, seeing mud. Climbing over to another section, he and the fel guard began clearing through it, stopping only to give directions to some of the tauren and trolls who were nearby. Zerith stared at him. “Think it over, man. How long would it have taken you to plan and coordinate an attack against three well-guarded positions, possibly five?”

“But I’m not a military…”

“Yes, you are. You’ve got a gift for it. And, you’ve got me and several others who did train in this. I can tell you that it would take me a few weeks to do enough reconnaissance to plan an attack on this scale. Our ‘surrounding an open area and forcing them out of the water’ trick has nothing on this.”

“So, you’re saying our attacks had nothing to do with this?”

“No, I’m saying that our attacks didn’t cause them to do this. They had to have been planning it before we even stepped through the Dark Portal.”

“And you call yourself an oaf,” Zerith mumbled. “Very well, if our attacking them didn’t bring this retaliation, what would have?”

“Control of the water and domination of Zangarmarsh,” came the reply in troll accents. Zerith turned around to see a troll climbing up the rubble to join the others. His armor and insignia marked him as a person of rank. “These damned naga have been dogging our heels ever since we came out here,” the troll continued, bending down beside Ger’alin to help the man lift what appeared to be the wall of a room. “No one here,” he muttered sourly. “I think you can stop now. If there be anyone under all this, they aren’t going to be alive. Gotta take care of the living, brothers.”

“May I ask your name?” Zerith asked formally, bowing slightly.

“I’m Denjai, the troll appointed by Thrall and Vol’jin to oversee Horde activities in Zangarmarsh. Normally, I stay over in Zabra’jin. However, Zabra’jin is just a big pile of smokin’ rubble. I’d been hoping that Swamprat woulda fared better. Guess not. So, you’re the leader of them that attacked the naga. Pleased to meet you. Good job.”

“Thank you,” Zerith said, looking around uncomfortably. “Though, this whole thing might be our fault.”

“Did you make Zangarmarsh the only place in Outland, other than Nagrand, where you can find reliable sources of pure water?” Denjai asked. Zerith shook his head. “Then, it’s not your fault. I told you; we been fighting the damned naga for months now. It was only a matter of time before that witch Vashj got reinforcements to help her take us all out. And me, I been too focused on the ogres to keep an eye on her like I should have. No, brother, this ain’t your fault. If it’s anyone’s, it’s mine.”

“Did you just say Vashj? As in Lady Vashj?” Zerith asked. Denjai nodded tiredly. “Why would she attack the Horde?”

“Why would a blasted snake do anything?” Denjai sighed rhetorically. “We thought the same thing when we first got out here. We figured we’d have a leg up on the Alliance, what with your prince being all buddy-buddy with Vashj. We sent emissaries to meet with her. When they didn’t come back, we sent others. One of those managed to make it back and tell us what the snakes were doing. We decided not to send any more diplomats to serpents who think it’s acceptable to skin them alive.”

“But…Vashj…and Prince Kael’thas…”

“Hey man, snakes are crazy bad. Maybe she decided to do her own thing. Maybe Kael don’t want nothing do with her. Maybe there’s something going on we don’t know about. It’s six up, half a dozen down. You come with me,” he grinned, motioning for the priest and the Blood Knight to follow him. “We’ll try to figure out a way to make that bitch pay.”

~*~*~*~

Alayne yawned and stretched out, apologizing when her hand brushed against someone. She grinned when she saw Ger’alin laying across from her, snoring softly. Glancing on her other side, she saw Zerith curled up in a ball. She stifled a laugh when she sat up and saw that Dar’ja was trying to figure out how to disentangle her hair from Zerith’s fist without tearing a bald spot in her scalp. “He does this whenever he gets stressed out,” Dar’ja hissed in a whisper as she tried to pry his fingers open. “Last time, I had to slip out of my nightgown just so I could get breakfast started. Don’t laugh, Alayne. I’ll bet Ger’alin has some odd habits that you’ll get to learn about,” she grinned.

“Rise and shine, sleepers!” Callie shouted at the top of her lungs, making Dar’ja jump and wince when she felt the tug at the base of her neck. Alayne giggled and stood up, prodding Ger’alin gently with her foot and nearly tripping when he grabbed her ankle. He let go and sat up quickly, apologizing and pushing himself to his feet. “Come on, everybody up!” the Forsaken continued loudly. “It’s mid-morning and it’s time to wake up!” Walking among the sleepers, the Forsaken who had stood guard gently prodded those not already up awake. Dar’ja began chewing her lip and shaking Zerith gently, hoping to wake him so he wouldn’t roll over and rip a plug out of her scalp.

“Oh, sorry,” he mumbled when he finally woke up, releasing her hair. “I’m under a little stress right now.”

“I know,” she muttered to him in an undertone, “you must really be worried because you were kicking last night, too.”

“I am,” he sighed, sitting up. “It looks like we might wind up fighting Lady Vashj.” Dar’ja gasped and stared at him. “Denjai, the leader of the Horde forces in Zangarmarsh, told me last night that Vashj has been attacking the Horde bases and has killed almost every envoy they’ve sent to try to negotiate with her. She’s been sending forces against the Alliance as well. It seems that she doesn’t want anyone out here but the naga loyal to her.”

“What are we going to do? We can’t fight Lady Vashj! She’s one of our allies.”

“We may have to. I fear that she’s gone mad. At any rate, if we don’t help the Horde out; if we stand aside, it’s going to be a black mark against every sin’dorei. Thrall has accepted us, but he doesn’t really trust us. I could kill the Lady for putting us in this damnable position but we’re trapped between a rock and a hard spot. If we stand aside, we may lose our allies in the Horde. Prince Kael’thas would not be happy about that. Ger’alin and I decided last night that we’re going to fight. Any sin’dorei who feels that he or she can’t is welcome to stay out of the battle. Vashj has made her choice already; she’s going to fight us whether we want to fight her or not. We may as well take the battle to her and be done with it,” he said firmly. “Will you be coming, or will you stand aside? I promise not to be upset with you either way, my dearest.”

“I’ve followed you this far,” Dar’ja sighed. “I’ll fight.”

“Good,” he smiled. “It would be odd not to have you at my side. Oh no,” he groaned, hearing his sister’s high-pitched squeal and looking over to see her collapsing, nearly falling to the ground before Ger’alin could catch her. “Looks like Alayne’s not taking the news well at all.”

“She’ll be fine,” Dar’ja laughed, grabbing hold of the hem of Zerith’s robe when he stood up. “Let Ger’alin handle it. She is his woman, after all,” the sin’dorei grinned wolfishly as she watched the other Blood Knight try to figure out what to do with the unconscious woman in his arms.

~*~*~*~

“And what about after this is all over?” Alayne asked as they regrouped on the shore of the lake. “Do you honestly think we will be able to explain to Lord Lor’themar why we attacked and killed our naga allies?”

“Well, it’s not as if the Lady is giving us much of a choice,” Zerith said slowly. “Did Ger’alin not explain this to you?”

“He did but it’s still insane!”

“Then you can stay here while we fight,” Zerith muttered. “I’m not forcing anyone into this who doesn’t want to go.”

“I’ll go. I just…I don’t want to see us exiled or executed. I definitely don’t want to see us leading any kind of rebellion,” she said quickly.

“Rebellion? Alayne, are you feeling well?” he asked in concern, putting a hand on her forehead and looking to see if the madness was returning.

“It’s just something I saw happening while I was in Northrend…or maybe it was after that. I don’t remember when, but I had a dream that there was a civil war in Quel’Thalas and that we had turned against our Prince.”

“Arthas is a liar, Alayne. You know that. He had you thinking that we were draining your soul from you. He lied to you, tricked you, trapped you, and then brainwashed you into following him. Don’t ever think anything he said or showed to you is real. If you do that, you could fall back under his control.”

“I know,” she sighed. “It’s just that…I keep getting this odd sense of déjà vu. As if I’ve lived through this before.”

“Ignore it,” he suggested. “Everyone gets those weird feelings once in a while. They don’t mean anything. Now, come on. If you’re going to join the battle, you need to get in the boat with Dar’ja and Callie. There we go,” he said, helping her in. “Look after my wife, please,” he whispered in his sister’s ear. “She hates boats.”

“It’s not the boat, it’s the rocking,” Dar’ja moaned, leaning over the side and emptying her stomach. “Really, I could have swum out there. It’s not so far.”

“Sea-sick?” Alayne said, her voice sounding sympathetic but her face looking amused. “Well, whatever you do, don’t think about food. Especially not green food like pea soup. Or the way it sloshes around in the bowl. Oh, and definitely do not think about rocking. Rocking back and forth, back and forth,” she grinned, making the boat sway slightly.

“I’m going to kill you,” Dar’ja groaned. “What did I ever do to you?”

“The zeppelin ride after your wedding. Payback is tough, isn’t it? I think I’ll make nice, slimy boiled spinach for the celebration feast…” her voice trailed off as the boat moved away from the shore. Zerith shook his head and tried not to laugh. He didn’t like seeing his wife so sick but Alayne did deserve to get some payback for recent events. Walking over, he climbed into the boat waiting for him. Ger’alin and Tau’re picked up their oars and shoved off.

“So, Dar’ja doesn’t like boats,” Ger’alin muttered. “That’s useful information for the next time she makes me mad.”

“Leave my wife alone,” Zerith said wryly. “Alayne is allowed to get a little bit of revenge but you aren’t.”

“So, I’ll just wait until Alayne and I are married and then, if Dar’ja makes me mad, I’ll tell Alayne to get her back for me. We’ll be married; she’ll have to do it, then. Why are you laughing, Zerith? I’m not entirely joking. Dar’ja can be nice but she can be a real pain, too.”

“No, it’s not that,” Zerith gasped. “It’s you thinking you’re going to tell Alayne to do anything. It doesn’t work that way. Trust me. No man tells his wife to do anything. It’s never done anything other than get the man sleeping on the couch since the beginning of time. I doubt even the Titans can tell their wives to do anything.”

“I see,” Ger’alin said slowly. “Can I arrange to have a long discussion with you about this at a later date?”

“Certainly,” Zerith nodded, seeing the chance to really wreak a little havoc. Grinning inwardly, he began planning out the plausible – and very humorous when acted upon – advice he would give the other man on how to deal with a wife.

~*~*~*~

Alayne shivered as they watched the last of the slaves go free. The Cenarion druids had accompanied them into the drainage area called Coilfang Reservoir. Once inside, several druid spies emerged from the shadows and spoke of the Broken who were being imprisoned and enslaved in the Slave Pens and the Steam Vaults. Splitting up, the Disorder of Azeroth had fought to free them and to deny the reservoir the manpower it needed to keep functioning and drawing precious water away from Zangarmarsh and to parts unknown.

The Broken were pitiful beings who possessed an oddly dignified demeanor. Even grinding slavery, torment, and death had not sapped their spirits. They had worked at the pumps because their naga slave drivers held them there with whips and chains and threats against those still uncaptured. But, they had done what they could to sabotage the workings of the vast machine and to slow its mysterious production down. Now that the Slave Pens and Steam Vaults were empty, the druids had contacted the Alliance forces to learn more about the purpose and function of the strange device. There was just one last area left to clear out.

Serpentshrine Cavern was a large, cavernous place that smelled of oil, old water, and decaying moss. Protected by naga loyal to Lady Vashj, the battles through the cavern had been tense affairs. More than once Alayne had to remind herself that her prince would never ally with those who kept slaves. After all, the sin’dorei had once come close to being slaves themselves under Garithos. Strange that Vashj would have forgotten that and chosen to enslave a race of beings who wanted little to do with the rest of Outland.

Shaking her head to clear it of errant thoughts, Alayne nodded when Ger’alin put a comforting hand on her shoulder. They were standing before the final room of the cavern. Inside it lay the controls that kept the reservoir operational. Inside it also waited Lady Vashj herself. She seemed unconcerned that her attackers had made it so far into her sanctum. Indeed, her bell-like laughter echoed throughout the vaulting cavern, twisting and thinning into an eerie howl. Ger’alin walked down the line of the Disorder of Azeroth and spoke a few words to everyone. When they were ready, he nodded and strode quickly into the room.

Vashj waited for them atop the central platform in the room. Surrounding it were gates that let water in or out of the area. Surrounding the platform were four towers. Electricity sparked and jumped between them. Swarming up the stairs, the Disorder of Azeroth quickly spread themselves out around the edge of the platform, watching the water at the base for signs that Vashj had thrown open the floodgates.

“Water is life. It has become a rare commodity here in Outland. A commodity that we alone shall control. We are the Highborne, and the time has come at last for us to retake our rightful place in the world! Death to the outsiders!” she shouted as she nocked an arrow to her bow and began firing at those closest to her.

“Surround her!” Ger’alin shouted. “Attack from all sides!”

“I did not wish to lower myself by engaging your kind, but you leave me little choice!” she growled at the paladin as she rushed towards him. Ger’alin met her near the center of the platform, swinging his shield wildly to drive her back while he cut in with his sword. Vashj skittered away, slithering quickly on her serpentine tail and began casting her spells. Ger’alin used his shield to absorb them as he made his way back towards her, forcing her to constantly retreat. Meanwhile, from the edge of the platform, all manner of spells flew through the air. Alayne’s shadowbolts, their power enhanced by her anger and her fear, struck Vashj’s scaly body and exploded, weakening her with each attack.

As she grew weaker, Vashj snarled angrily. Reaching out with her four arms, she moved to the center of the platform and shouted words in a tongue that none recognized. “The time is now! Leave none standing!” she said, pointing at those gathered around the edges.

Giant marshwalkers began surfacing from the waters at the edge of the room. Water elementals joined them, swarming up the stairs and nearly overwhelming the attackers. Meanwhile, Vashj channeled the energy in the towers, folding it into a shield she wrapped around herself. Ger’alin grunted when his sword bounced off the shield. The reverberations made his arm ache. Gritting his teeth, he looked around for the source of the shield. Spotting the arcing lines dancing from the tips of the towers, he launched himself at them. The other fighters of the Disorder of Azeroth joined him, pausing only to kill marshwalkers who drew too close or elementals who interfered with the attacks on the towers. The towers were not constructed with defense in mind and soon toppled into rubble. With each fallen tower, the shield around Vashj shimmered, growing thinner. When the last one fell, she hissed angrily.

“You may want to take cover,” she growled as maddened sporebats began raining down on the attackers. Zerith called upon the Light, using his faith as a shield for his friends while they concentrated on finishing off Lady Vashj. The naga woman was shocked when her attacks failed. Across the platform, Alayne was channeling her own spells. Mixing shadow magic with necromancy, she hurled curses that carried contagion at the naga, sapping her life away little by little. Hurling her strongest spells and calling upon more and more sporebats, Vashj tried to drive off any who drew near to her. Alayne redoubled her attacks. Sweat poured down her face and her legs trembled beneath her. Finally, she could cast no more. Collapsing in a heap, she let weariness wash over her as the rest of the Disorder of Azeroth swarmed the serpentine woman. Ger’alin was among the first to reach her. Slashing her across the chest with his blade, he cleaved, sending scales and flesh out in a spray that gushed with each of the naga’s heartbeats. Vashj stared down at the wound in amazement. She lifted trembling hands to it and stared at her own blood staining them. Gaping, she looked up at Ger’alin just as one of Tau’re’s axes buried itself in her skull.

“Lord Illidan, I… I am… sorry,” she moaned as she twisted and fell. Ger’alin waited a beat before crouching down beside her. Reaching out with the powers he had come to know, he sought for signs of life. Finding none, he wiped his blade clean, sheathed it, and sighed.

“She’s dead,” he announced. “And the threat to Zangarmarsh is over.” Seeing that Alayne was laying in a heap, Ger’alin set aside all thoughts of anything else and rushed over to her. Gathering her in his arms, he sighed in relief when he saw that she had just fainted. “She’s just passed out,” he mouthed to Zerith when the priest came rushing over. “I wish I knew why, though.”

“So do I,” Zerith muttered as he examined his sister. “So do I.”

~*~*~*~

Jez’ral knuckled his back and sighed with relief after the fight was over. It had seemed to go on for an eternity. Bending down, he pulled Vashj’s disbelieving eyes closed. Ger’alin was right; the snake must have been mad to think that she could take on an entire army by herself. “You may have been a legend,” he whispered, sounding amused, “but now, you’re just a memory. Hm? What’s this?” he wondered, digging through the pouches the woman wore belted around her many-armed torso. “It’s just water,” he sighed, finding a vial filled with pure, clear liquid. “It feels…one of the Magisters back in Silvermoon will have to look into this,” he muttered, pocketing the vial. “What else do you have in these pockets of yours, I wonder?”

“Zerith says that Alayne will be fine,” Callie reported. Jez’ral nodded absently, pulling parchments from the dead woman’s pouches and glancing over them quickly. Nothing in the documents made sense to him. There was something about some spy among the Broken, a bit about water shipments to the Netherstorm, and an odd mention to Kael’thas about Illidan not being pleased with certain rumors he had heard. “He wants to know what she did.” Callie repeated for the fourth time, pulling the man from his thoughts.

“I have no clue what she did. Something she learned in Northrend, I think,” Jez’ral replied with half a mind. “Ask her.”

“He said she’d be fine,” Callie said dryly. “He didn’t say she was awake yet. Frankly, I don’t think he’s going to get her away from Ger’alin any time soon. What’s that?” she asked, pointing to the vial of water Jez’ral was holding.

“Just some water.”

“Then why are you staring at it like that?”

“It feels…there’s something about this…I can’t quite place my finger on it,” he mumbled. “It’s as if I should know but I don’t.”

“Well, put it away for now and let’s get out of here,” the Forsaken muttered. Jez’ral pocketed the vial again, wondering why it seemed familiar and yet, completely foreign to him, at the same time. He blinked in surprise when he saw Alayne’s head lolling against Ger’alin’s chest.

“I thought you said she was fine,” he said in an irritated undertone to the Forsaken.

“Were you listening to only every other word?” Callie replied in like tone.

“What did she do?”

“Question answered,” the rogue snarled, striding ahead to join the others who were making their way out of the cavern. Jez’ral shook his head and walked over to Ger’alin. The Blood Knight clutched Alayne protectively to his chest, glaring at the warlock who approached them.

“What did she do?” the two men said at the same time, Ger’alin demanding where Jez’ral wondered.

“I was hoping you would know,” Zerith said wryly, making both men start in fright.

“I’m not doing that ever again,” Alayne answered thickly, her tongue sounding as if it were swollen. “He doesn’t know,” she continued, waving an arm towards Jez’ral. “Northrend.”

“Was it similar to what you did to those naga when they surround Ger’alin a few days ago?” Alayne nodded. “Why did you faint?” Zerith asked.

“Because it’s really tiring to do that, especially when the target was as powerful as Vashj,” she sighed. “I’m also not very good at it. One small slip and my spells drain my own energy away completely.”

“I see,” Zerith sighed. “Well, at least you’ll sleep well tonight. And you had better just sleep,” he growled, glaring at Ger’alin. “Come on. The druids say that the repairs to the Refuge are almost complete. Yes, Ger’alin, they re-grew them; you weren’t seeing things,” Zerith said, sounding just as amazed as the other man had been.

“I’ve got to see that,” Alayne said, turning her head. “Let’s go.” She chewed her bottom lip worriedly as Ger’alin carried her back towards the entrance of the cavern. She couldn’t shake the feeling that something was going to happen…something she should be able to foresee.

~*~*~*~

Back at the newly re-grown inn at Cenarion Refuge, Ger’alin woke up when he felt Alayne trembling next to him. “Alayne, are you alright?” he asked, realizing that he was trembling too. The whole room seemed to be. Alayne turned around and flung her arms around him, burying her face in his chest as the room continued to be rocked by a small, but long-lasting, earthquake. Ger’alin winced and felt tears spring to his eyes as she continued to cling to him. “Nails,” he whispered, whimpering as she held on in terror, “you’ve got to trim your fingernails. Oh, Light, what was that?” he groaned, feeling a wave of raw, searing energy pass over him. The scent and feel of it, crackling and electrifying, made his head spin while turning his stomach at the same time.

Through it all, Alayne held on to him as if her life depended on it. For long moments after the wave passed, the earth continued to shake before finally settling back down into stillness. “There, there,” he said, running a hand through Alayne’s hair. “It’s over now, whatever it was. There’s no need to be frightened, now. I’m here; I’m not about to let anything happen to you,” he whispered comfortingly, soothingly. He could feel his ribs creaking as she tightened her grip. He could feel a warm wetness on his chest. Reaching down, he gently, but firmly, pulled her up so that he could peer into her face. “What’s the matter?” he asked, wiping the tears from her face.

“War,” she shuddered. “There’s going to be a war!”

“What are you talking about?”

“I…he…Arthas said this would happen!” she sobbed. “When I was in Northrend, whenever I would start to come back to myself, he would be there, showing me things that would happen if I deserted him. One of those things was a night, just like this. An earthquake that wouldn’t stop; a wave of raw energy that threatened to sweep me away…and then a war and all of you were dead and it was my fault! All of you, dead, blood dripping down the streets of Silvermoon, its spires broken and crumbling! All because I…”

Ger’alin silenced her by the simple expedient of kissing her. Whenever she seemed to try to launch into her bout of self-blame and fear again, he would cut her off. After a while, her trembling stilled and her sobs subsided. Once he was certain she was calm, he set her gently back down on her side of the bed and turned to look at her. “Arthas is a liar,” he whispered. “You’ve told me what he said to convince you that none of us cared for you; that we had been using you. Surely you’ve learned I would never do anything like that.”

“I know but…”

“But nothing,” he sighed. “Now, explain to me how your leaving him, turning your back on the road you had taken, would somehow lead to Silvermoon being destroyed and all of us being killed.”

“I don’t…”

“It wouldn’t,” he continued, reaching over to stroke her cheek. “While you are the most important person in my life, Alayne, you are hardly the linchpin upon which sin’dorei civilization hangs. None of us could single-handedly cause that kind of destruction. Especially not you. You only wreak that kind of havoc when it’s truly called for. Of course, you do have a tendency to overdo it but that’s why I’ll always be there; to pin you to the ground and kiss you within an inch of your life if need be,” he teased. She smiled and reached over to pat him on his cheek.

“Have I told you lately that you’re very wise?” she sighed. “You’re right. One person couldn’t cause all that devastation. Not even me when I get really angry.”

“What concerns me is that you would even let him make you begin to think that,” Ger’alin sighed. Alayne turned on her back and placed a hand on her forehead, pulling her hair out of her eyes and taking a deep breath.

“He’s…insidious,” she said after a long pause. “He can worm his way into your thoughts, your hopes, your greatest fears and turn them against you. There’s nothing human left in him other than the fact that he can recall caring enough about those things to see them as weapons to be used. Effective weapons, too. Light, he used my own father against me. I…oh, Light, my father!” she sighed bitterly, tears streaming down her face again. Ger’alin reached over and lifted her again, letting her cry herself out on his shoulder while he fought to breathe around the lump in his throat.

“Using someone’s own heart against them. If it wouldn’t be complete folly, I’d go give him the death he claims mastery over right now,” he thought to himself. “Not even demons are as vile as that rotten bastard.” Rocking her until she fell asleep in his arms, and then holding her still, he felt the giddy light-headed rush of emotion when she started whispering incoherently. Settling her back down, he smiled and tried to puzzle out what she might be dreaming about. He froze, his eyes shooting towards the door, when he heard it begin to creak open. Zerith and Callie ducked their heads in, grinning at him when he rolled his eyes and mouthed ‘wake her and I’ll chop you into little pieces.’

“Are you alright?” Zerith whispered, tiptoeing into the room. “That earthquake has just about everyone spooked, especially after those late-night attacks.”

“Oh, I’m fine. She was terrified but she’s calmed down and fallen back to sleep,” Ger’alin replied, keeping a careful eye on Alayne to make certain she was still asleep.

“What had her so upset?” Zerith asked, seeing his sister’s face red, her eyes swollen as if she’d been weeping.

“Long story summed up in four words,” Ger’alin growled softly. “Arthas is a bastard. Apparently, he sent her visions of an earthquake followed by the collapse of all of elvendom, convincing her it would be her fault for leaving him.”

“He’s good at that,” Callie muttered, glancing down at Alayne. “He gets inside your mind, makes you believe things you never would otherwise. He can play a person the way a bard plays a lute.”

“You don’t think he’s trying to get her back?” Zerith asked. “She’s been complaining about having a sense of déjà vu since this morning.”

“No,” Ger’alin whispered firmly. “It was something he used to hold her in Northrend. Using her own love for us as a knife against her throat. How could anyone, even him, be so heartless as to do that to such a beautiful, kind, warm, and loving woman?”

“We’ll just let you get back to sleep,” Zerith said quickly, wrapping an arm around Callie and clapping his hand over her mouth before she could say anything. Ger’alin nodded absently, staring at Alayne’s face with a look Zerith recognized. It was the same way he looked at Dar’ja when he knew she wouldn’t see and ask him what he was staring at.

“Beautiful? Her face was all red, blotchy, and swollen,” Callie laughed when Zerith dragged her out into the hallway and let her go. The priest shook his head at the Forsaken as he walked back to his own room. “He’s got it baaaaaaaaaaad,” she cackled.

“No,” Zerith smiled as he opened the door and saw his own wife sleeping peacefully. “He’s got it good.”

~*~*~*~

“You two are up earlier than I expected,” Jez’ral said, sounding surprised when he saw Alayne and Ger’alin sitting down, eating breakfast together the next morning. Most of the others still slept, worn out from battle or the celebration the druids had held in honor of Vashj’s demise.

“Callie said we’d be leaving this morning and so, we’re ready,” Alayne answered. “Besides, I’ll be glad to get this over with. I have plans for when we get finished,” she said, winking at Ger’alin. “And the sooner we can get on to those, the better.”

“What do you two need to do in Nagrand, anyway?” Ger’alin asked, grinning back at her.

“Demon research. It’s driving me up the wall not knowing who tainted the Outland orcs,” Jez’ral sighed. “On top of that, Nagrand is the only area that has flourished, despite the destruction of Draenor. I want to know why. I also want to test the waters there. Something I found on Vashj,” he said, holding up the vial of clear water-that-wasn’t-water.

“So do I,” Alayne muttered, staring at the vial and shrugging. Something about it seemed familiar. “Hellfire Peninsula was a barren, rocky wasteland. Zangarmarsh is…just plain odd. Nagrand is bound to be better. Still…maybe we should head south into Terokkar. That earthquake last night…”

“Yes,” Jez’ral whispered, pocketing the vial again. “I would like to learn more about whatever caused that. Wild torrents of arcane energy are always worth exploring.”

“So, a little detour before we head on?” Alayne asked. Jez’ral nodded.

“What detour?” Dar’ja asked, sitting down across from Ger’alin and Alayne. “Congratulations on your amazing self-control, you two. You cost me ten gold,” she said warmly. Zerith settled in next to her, laughing, and Callie plunked down next to Jez’ral. “If you two need any…practical advice, you know Zerith and I…”

“Thank you,” they both said at the same time, blushing in unison.

“So, what detour?”

“We’ll be heading south into Terokkar Forest today instead of southwest into Nagrand. Alayne and I are both curious about that burst of energy that washed over us last night.”

“The earthquake, you mean? I wondered what that was about myself. As did everyone else,” Zerith said.

“Then let’s eat and round up the others,” Jez’ral said dryly. “Send the rest of your private army on to the ruins of Shattrath. Tell them we’ll send word if we need them.”