Vanfi'jin heaved the last of the massive timbers in place, assisted by a dozen heavy-set orc and tauren grunts. The entrance to the Stockades had been built to be unbreakable to keep the most dangerous beings of the city safely trapped within the cold stone fortifications. Keeping out the rest of the city wasn't quite what the builders had in mind during construction, but the steel gates would hold. The barricades of wood were merely for her own peace of mind. The Warwalker army could hold this position as long as their supplies lasted without having to worry about so much as a scratch. It was a bold plan, but it was working.
"We got the dwarf king!" Pug shouted from somewhere behind her, struggling to make himself heard over the din as he pushed his way through to the troll huntress. The Stockades may have been safe, but that didn't mean it was comfortable. With much of the available room taken up by convict cells, the remaining space was crammed with heavily armed and armored soldiers, often standing shoulder to shoulder. They had been moving the prisoners to make room, but at the moment it was still a little crowded in the dank, narrow passages of the dungeon.
"Dat king, him be a'right mon?" Vanfi rubbed her pearly tusks unconsciously. It was a nervous habit that plagued her from childhood. She had right to be nervous. Bronzebeard had been their entire objective in securing this prison and the troll could only imagine how he had been treated. She couldn't see Pug, he was much too short to be visible in the crowd, but she could hear the beastmaster's reassuring tone.
"A little bloodied, I s'pose, but he'll live." Good news. If, gods forbid, they had found the king already dead, the dwarven soldiers within their ranks were sure to have rioted. Size they may have lacked, but dwarves had loyalty and temper in abundance.
Vanfi grinned, showing her well-kept and razor-sharp teeth. Everything seemed to be going according to plan. This crazy strategy just might work out after all. She would curse her foolish thoughts later. Any self-respecting troll should know enough not to jinx themselves so readily. General Leda pushed through the crowd, bodily shoving fully-grown orcs in plate mail away as if they were made of paper. She staggered once, pain evident on her face, gasping in the cramped confines of the prison. The troll Lieutenant stood at attention and threw a quick salute to her commanding officer, preparing to make her report. The druid didn't even seem to notice her, shoving right past Vanfi and toward the door. The shadow huntress looked on in horror as Leda began to claw at the wooden barricade, throwing aside the heavy wooden fortifications that had taken a whole team of others to put into place.
"Leda mon, what'chu be doin'?! Dem is our lifeblood, de be keepin' de bad out, seen?!" Vanfi grabbed ahold of her tauren leader, but she might as well have been a flea on Leda's shoulder. At her hurried gesture, the surrounding ring of Warwalkers joined in to pull their frantic commander away from the gates. "Ya open dem doors an it be our skulls decoratin' a spear! I an I like me head where it is... what gotten into ya, sista?"
"Iyo..." she managed to say in a choked sob, straining against the collective might of the Warwalker troops. "He didn't make it in, we've got to go back for him!"
"B-b-b-but the whole city is standing right outside!" Pug squealed, shaking just as violently as Leda, though his trembling came from fear rather than exhaustion and pain. "If we go out there, we'll be slaughtered!"
"We have to try. I order you to try! Asterius left me in command!"
Vanfi moved to where she stood between the tauren and the steel door. She spoke in a quiet voice, addressing the solemn army before her. "What be the General's one an' only order?"
"Survive!" Came the reply, echoed in the voices of every soldier of the 7th Division.
Leda shook off the heavy fists holding her back, whirling to face the soldiers of the Horde. She radiated anger that burnt away the lancing agony in her chest. "So you would leave him to die while you sit here in safety? You're not soldiers, you're cowards!"
"Ya t'ink we be 'fraid of death?" Her blue-green eyes locked with Leda's own and she felt it impossible to turn away. Vanfi, for her part, seemed to regard her desperate commander almost curiously. "I t'ink ya be 'fraid of life."
Leda's struggles slowly ceased, although Vanfi wondered whether it was because she was giving up or simply didn't have the energy to continue to fight. "Any of us be gettin' outta this alive, we got to stick to the plan. Plan is we stay here 'til dem other armies gather at the gates. Them attack from the walls, we attack from within. Not before, mon."
The cramped passageway became horribly silent. Vanfi laid a calloused palm on the General's shoulder, but Leda just shrugged it off. "...sorry, sista'."
A hacking cough broke the silence. A forsaken had attempted to clear his throat to attract attention. Apparently, it wasn't an easy maneuver when one is missing one's throat.
"Are they done speaking yet?" Muttered one of the Kahna family, sliding up to the group in that eerily motionless way that only the undead could pull off. He grinned, pale gray eyes staring aimlessly at the roof. "Words without meaning, minds without thinking."
Another forsaken stepped out of the first's shadow. Whether he had been there all along or had simply materialized out of thin air, no one could say. "All very amusing, all very pointless."
"There be somet'ing ya wanna say, Kahnas? Speak an' we hear." Vanfi said, slowly backing away from the two undead without even realizing it, along with a good majority of the rest of the soldiers. Oddly enough, the undead never had to worry about being cramped. They were always given plenty of personal space.
"Does she hear?" "We wonder..." They said in unison, tilting their heads toward one another like mirror images. Slowly, they raised a bony hand to point at the bloody Leda.
"This one is missing her other half."
"The one who sees more but seems less."
"Not lost but found," "Not safe but saving,"
"You're talking about Iyo, right?" Leda said in a guarded tone. Were these freaks siding with her or against her? "He's outside and in trouble. I need to find him!"
"The distant one is in a tower of glass." "Her other half is in a hall of doors."
"You know where he is?!"A very slow nod accompanied her words.
"Once, we were..."
"Frail." "Pathetic."
"Living." "Human."
This admission seemed to disturb them, but the two continued. "Once, but no longer. Our flesh is dead now, but still remembers."
The druid gave them a blank look. The left Kahna sighed and elaborated. "We move about freely. We gaze upon the city but its gaze misses us. Sees us for what we were but aren't."
"You have scouts in the city!"
"We know of where the distant one lies. The General would join him, yes?"
"De door be staying closed." Vanfi said with no chance for argument. This appeared hilarious to the two undead. They didn't laugh, but their lipless grins grew wider.
"We have doors of our own. None would be endangered but us and her." They said simply and turned back to Leda, stretching out their cold hands in expectation.
The druid hesitated for a moment. "Why are you helping me?"
"To lose one's other half," said the forsaken on the left.
"Is a pain we are familiar with," continued the one on the right. In unision, both dropped to their knees in front of Leda, palms still outstretched. She almost reeled back in shock; another Kahna had been standing behind the first two. He spoke up now in his own gravely voice.
"The only pain we still feel. Her cause is our own. Our skills are her own... if she wishes."
Leda turned to Vanfi for only a moment. "Command is yours." She said before grasping the rotting hands of the kneeling Kahnas, resisting the urge to shudder at their touch. "Take me to my brother."
The one in the back must have been a sorcerer of some kind. He took a single runed stone from his pouches and held it gently between both hands. The sigil hummed to life and began to glow a pale blue. Its light grew brighter and brighter until the three forsaken and one tauren were engulfed and the collective troops in the confines of the Stockades had to look away to keep from being blinded. When they next looked back, the four figures were gone.
