Deception (a World of Warcraft Fanfic)

Landfall

(Saerah)

I fight for my every breath as I draw my bow. Every little motion is slowed, I take in every detail. I don't know which is more terrifying, the crazed look in Garrosh's eyes, or the pleading look in my target's.

I hesitate, then remember, this is what I do.

The forest is still as arcane energy surges at the tip of my bow. My target whispers something, perhaps a prayer to the light. Just. Release. He never finishes his final plead.

"ATTACK!" A night elf ranger screams her last words, her bow is never drawn.

"Impressive," Garrosh mumbles, "I don't see why Baine thought you were unprepared when we first met. Huh, a common trait of tauren, weakness, I'm glad you have backbone."

I'm not sure if I should find this offensive or a sick, twisted compliment. I grunt and nod. "It's be nice if you helped out a bit."

A chuckle, he finds this funny, "Wouldn't let you have all the fun!" He knocks a draenei paladin off balance before sinking gorehowl into her neck. A paladin much like Valurine, youthful and healthy, then suddenly a pile of lifeless flesh.

I cringe at all the carnage, I know the alliance will return the favor to those brave souls that went to try and stop Valurine and Varian from setting up their own camp.

I do not, however, stop shooting, nor does Raven stop mauling. The list for honor is in my blood, nothing can take that away. Raven simply obeys orders, at times I wish I was more like that, it would make this much easier.

As we move along, I stay in constant prayer, pleading to the earth mother to keep the land beneath our feet together. It's a miracle the sha have not joined the action.

I study Garrosh for any signs of corruption, other than the mental illness already present in his brain. Besides his slightly disfigured shadow, there was no sign of him being under the sha's influence. I keep an eye open, however.

My hoof brushes against one of the corpses. This one is one of my kills, clean and respectful. The pile of limbs to my right is the work of Garrosh.

It's weird, I feel no guilt or remorse. Like Valurine said, it was them or me, they wanted me dead. It was no different that the temple, the airbase, or any other time I had shed alliance blood. In a way, that was a good thing, I wasn't going to let what I had been through prevent me from fighting for the Horde.

"They call it bloodlust, Saerah," Calls out Garrosh, "the zone you enter when in action. You never tire, every kill feeds you, makes you better."

It makes me a barbarian, I want to say.

Garrosh is about to strike down another, but he collapses before he can swing my axe. He turns to me, a scowl on his face. I shrug innocently, it wasn't me.

"Wow, I never thought the Warchief would save my hide!" A particularly annoying voice calls out. A goblin.

"I didn't come here to save you," the Warchief growls, "Is there crude oil or not?"

Another dirt-covered goblin emerges, her face dripping with sweat, hands still shaky from the kill. She clearly wasn't here to fight. "Sorry sir! Didn't see ya there." She squeaks, "And who do we have here? Still got that blanket I have ya?"

"It's been through hell, but yes," I said, pulling it out of my bag, "Good to see you again, Glea."

"Mind letting me use that for a sec?" I toss her the blanket, "I suppose it's more of a rag now, just what I need," She wipes her face, getting rid of the dirt, but also smearing her mascara. "Picked a good spot, Garrosh, this beach is loaded with crude oil, just what we need. Once we get an ample supply of that, we can start mass producing some bots and get working on that forest, Have you SEEN those trees? We're lookin' at a gold mine, and I haven't even stepped off the beach!"