Isiliosyphilis - Part 2

Pirates
‘Bloody Pirate!’ The words reverberated inside Klausner’s head and he snarled. She was to blame for his situation.
It’d been a surprise to see her, quite the coincidence her being in the same town. Asking her to fetch his horse whilst he packed had only seemed natural. He hadn’t had much time, what with the magistrates guards bearing down on him.
Lilith! The stupid girl had told her father. Told her father that William had taken her honour and, as Klausner would say if it ever occurred to him, “gold speaks louder than the truth”. If seduction were a crime Klausner had never been told. Wouldn’t of stopped him if he had, but it’d have been nice to have a bit of warning. Luckily for Klausner, Soap and Ruthgarten had been paying attention, seen the guards coming and forewarned the Forsaken of his imminent arrest.
So, there he was, heading South. On the run from the authorities. On the run was much closer to the truth than Klausner would have liked, he should be riding his horse but for that damned pirate!
He could still hear her closing statement in the wind that whipped across the open landscape. Taunting him.
“Well you’ve learned something today, haven’t you boy? Never trust a Pirate.”
With that she’d spun the horse around and sped off down the street. Her blue hair trailing behind her. Klausner was sure of one thing, when this disease had pissed off, Illyxia would pay.
Suddenly, he was falling. Startled from his thoughts his arms flailed trying to grab onto something to stop him hitting the ground. It was useless and he fell in a heap next to Ruthgarten.
“Oi! Be more careful, mate. I’m still feeling delicate from that time we fell over the edge of those cliffs!”
Ruthgarten leapt to his feet apologising most profusely. Dusting Klausner off he picked up the Forsaken and placed him back on his shoulders before adjusting his pace to a fast jog. ‘Yes...’, the Forsaken thought, ‘We’ll be in the Wetlands soon. And then we’ll be able to catch a boat away from this plague-ridden continent.’
Menethil Harbour
Menethil Harbour, a picturesque representation of Lordaeron at it’s prime. Named in honour of the royal family it was a suitable homage to the great line. A shame Klausner didn’t think so,
“Bloody toffs the Menethils! Bigger bunch of pansy twats never sat on a throne!”
Ruthgarten plodded along nodding at appropriate moments and grunting agreeably, independent thought isn’t his strong point but he knew better than to incite Klausner into one of his revolutionary rants.
Instead he focused on the road ahead and the growing sight of the sea before him. A small poach attached to his kilt wiggled restlessly, the small prairie dog within was getting agitated. He could smell the danger present in the city ahead but trapped within the pouch could do nothing to stop Klausner walking right into it.
Peering around the grand archway that led into the port town the dynamic duo could see the reason for the lack of military presence on the road leading into town. An unruly mob had formed around the entrance to the keep demanding to know more about this plague the Forsaken were going to unleash upon them and whether the cure would be made available to all or just the privileged gentry. A big one at the front was making a lot more noise than most and Klausner’s nose for trouble told him that within a few moments the mob was going to turn uglier than it already was.
“Right, Ruth. Here’s the plan, we’re gonna sneak across the square and make for the docks. The guards may not be happy to see us, so we shan’t spoil their day, savvy? Once there we’ll aqquire passage on a ship, the Alliance may not like the look of me an’ you, but in times like these not even the most patriotic Captain will turn away two payin’ passengers.”
Ruthgarten nodded, gently patting the small pouch. In front of him the mob had turned uglier, fists, fruit, and insults were flying and the guard were closing in on the crowd to the exclusion of all else. Now was their moment. Klausner gave Ruth a prod, indicating him to start moving.
To be fair to the Tauren he tried his best to blend in, he did a fantastic human impression. Lifting both arms in the air above his head he waved his hands about, mooing away at the top of his voice he pegged it across the square. Klausner watched with horror at the site, half turning away from the gates, preparing to run in the opposite direction but, to his surprise, the Tauren blended in splendidly, which the raging mob now attempting to storm the garrison nobody was paying any attention to a lone individual flailing in the background. Klausner shrugged and copied his mate, even going to far as to copy the moo.
An unpleasant discovery
Chartering a ship’s a piece of piss in Menethil Harbour. There are so many ships coming in and out of the port that the authority’s don’t have time to search them all and acquiring passage to Ratchet, no questions asked, took less time than buying a drink in a crowded pub. Paying for the voyage took nearly all the gold Klausner had and so, hoping to make some of that money back by gambling with the crew Klausner set off in a disgruntled yet excited mood. Rutherford sat on the main deck, exercising Soap, watching Menethil Harbour shrink smaller and smaller until it fell over the horizon.
Arriving in Ratchet for the first time is a bit of a culture shock. It’s loud, rowdy, chaotic, and run by the sort of creatures you wouldn’t trust to babysit your bastards. Much like Booty Bay really, but littler, and with more dust. Arriving in Ratchet for your hundredth time is a bit of a culture shock. It’s always worse than you remembered it, that is unless you’re a pirate, in which case it gets better.
With these thoughts in mind Klauser strode off the ship. Ruthgarten and Soap in tow he swaggered up the jetty towards a giant notice-board littered with timetables.
“Ruth, ask around and find out where the most remote part of Kalimdor is. Find out whether Isiliosyphilis has spread to Kalimdor yet as well.”
“It’s Ilisiosis I think, Klausner, not Ilisiosyphilis.”
Klausner blinks and looks around, noticing Soap had wondered off to speak to the local wildlife, a small dog sat on a post.
“I don’t care what it’s called! I just want to know where I can go to get away from it!!”
Rutherford shrugs. Plodding away to speak to the dock-master. He returns after just a moment waving his arms.
“Klausner! Klausner! Terrible news!”
Klausner groaned, the Tauren’s inability to worry about a deadly disease whilst still panicking at the slightest information regarding what was probably lost dog, or a cat up a tree, was getting to him.
“Klausner! The man over there says that Isiliosis started in Feralas, if we want to get away we need to go back to the Eastern Kingdoms!”
Klausner clenches his fists in silent rage, looking up at the sky he curses fate, fortune, luck, and any other inquantifiable trait a man possesses that could’ve stopped him going on this useless journey but hadn’t seen cause to bother. ‘Luck, what a lazy cunt!’ Just thinking it made him feel better, shifted the blame a bit.
“Right, back on the boat, Ruth!”
“But Klausner, we’ve got no money.”
“Right, follow me, Ruth!”
The two half walk, half run over to the goblin run bank. Klausner draws his pistol, pointing it at the goblin assistant behind the counter and grinning broadly.
“This is a stick up, mate. Put all the gold you have within arms reach into a bag, hand it to the Tauren and the only thing that’ll get hurt are your profits.”
The goblin looks up from beneath greased hair, smiling crookedly at the Forsaken, an irksome look of superiority on his face.
“But sir, you cannot be serious?! This is Ratchet, if you harm me you’ll be arrested within moments, just look at all the guards who’d hear your pistol shot.”
Klausner sighs, he’d hoped it wouldn’t come to this, but adapting on the fly is what he thinks he’s good at.
“Ruth, start jumping and waving your arms.”
Ruth doesn’t even pause to think, he starts jumping. His hooves making an awful clattering noise on the stone path outside the bank, a few people look around but turn away when they notice the Tauren. Klausner appreciates for a moment the look of terror in the goblins beady eyes as his calculating brain realises what the Tauren is -actually- doing. Klausner pulls the trigger, putting an iron ball between the goblins eyes. He reaches across the counter and picks up a few bags of coins.
“Right, Ruth. Back to the boat!”
“Yes, Klausner...Klausner?”
“Yes, Ruth?”
The two head back to the boat, the Forsaken holding a battered flyer detailing the new illness and it’s cure.
“Why did you get me to jump up and down back there? You’re most odd lately.”
Klausner rolls his eyes. And gives Ruthgarten the flyer, sick to death of fearing the disease he doesn’t want to read about it as well.
“It’s simple, mate. It were a simple matter of camouflaging the sound of the shot. Hiding what should be easily noticeable by shoving something loud and annoying at as many of their senses as you can.”
“Oh...”
Ruthgarten looks around for Soap and whistles. Soap appears at their side within a moment. The small creature is confused, the nice dog he was speaking to had just dropped dead. Maybe Ratchet wasn’t all that safe, maybe Klausner shouldn’t be here. Following his master the prairie dog was relieved to see they were heading back for the boat.
Klausner tosses the bag of coins to the ships Captain. Weighing the bag in his hand the man grins, more than enough for multiple voyages,
“No questions, sir?”
Klausner doesn’t stop for change. He walks past and mutters under his breath,
“Aye, no questions.”
Heading down to their cabin Ruthgarten whistled contentedly. He’d been looking forward to visiting Kalimdor again, mulgore perhaps, and definitely Ashenvale. He hadn’t seen his frogs in a long time. But thinking about it he knew this wasn’t the right time. With this disease around they were best off going wherever Klausner wanted. The Forsaken had made a career of surviving and would find somewhere safe for them to wait out this pandemic.
Behind him Soap sneezed inaudibly.
Category:Story