Pink Rose [1]

"Snitches Don't Get Cookies"

For AMFox,

an inspiration.

This series would not exist without you!

Quest Objective: Take a vacation.

~ Eona Strider, Orgrimmar ~

I am not a nosy person. Just a very concerned individual. A concerned individual that quietly slipped through the hot, sweltering tunnels of Ragefire Chasm that wove beneath the bustling city of Orgrimmar.

The glow of bubbling magma seared my eyes through my goggles as I snuck through the suffocating caverns. My suspicions arose from my boss, the recently elected Warchief with—just slight —anger management issues: Garrosh Hellscream. I'd known him since my childhood on the desolate wastes of Outland, and Garrosh was my way off that depressing rock. But things had changed...

My back leaned against the sizzling stone. I peeked around the corner at the massive entrance, sealed by two doors lined with metal casings and iron bolts. They inched open, groaning like a hungry beast. A goblin stood before it with a loaded cart. General Nazgrim was at her side.

The orc general glanced over his shoulder. Pain resonated in the back of my skull and I leaned out of sight.

I had seen a lot in the last sixteen years of my life: raging demons, pools of acid, dragons with a grudge, unbelievable amounts of discrimination towards elves (you'd think I was a walking insult-attracter), mages with an unhealthy addiction to steamy romance novels, babysitters from the seventh circle of hell, cockroach collectors (and eaters), an overprotective grandsmother, and murlocs. The list goes on, but none of it compared to the odd behavioral transformation in Garrosh Hellscream.

I was not a nosy person. Just a very concerned individual. The doors had stopped screeching, and footsteps echoed along the cavern as the general and the engineer slipped out of sight. Their shadows were absorbed by the chamber of night. I dove in after them.

~*~

"Let's take a look, shall we?"

I squinted as an undead healer shined a bright light in my face. I turned my head to the side, squeezing my eyes shut. Everything threatened to overwhelm me. The pain in my abdomen, the swarm of images in my mind, what they meant. 

The slab beneath me was cold. The alchemist lowered the bottle emitting the harsh light, penetrating me with his ocher-glowing eyes instead. "Pupils show adequate reactions. You're pale enough to pass for one of the Dark Rangers."

That was a bad sign. My usual complexion was as pink as cotton candy from the Darkmoon Faire. But after what I just saw...I wouldn't be surprised if all of the blood in my body jumped out and ran away.

I wanted to get as far away from Orgrimmar as possible, but I didn't have that option with the wound in my side. It was a lingering, painful reminder of what I had discovered. One of my hands went to my copper hair, taking a fistful and tugging as I tried to distract myself. I could hear my teeth grinding against one another.

"So, on a scale of one to ten...how close to dead am I?" My words came rushed and breathy.

"I've been closer." He mused. "For such a severe-looking burn, you seem well. I'll bandage it, prescribe some healing potions, and you may return to your scouting duties."

I forced a nod. My job usually gave me a lot of freedom, but right now, I felt trapped. Watched instead of watching. Stars. I had to look. I couldn't just...ignore it like everyone else. I went. I saw. I got my ass kicked. I can't stay here...