A dance with death.

Ormel crouched over the campfire, slowly turning the meat he had suspended over the flame. Every now and then he would stand and take a walk around the vicinity of the camp, it was needlessly large considering he was the only occupant. However it was all part of the ploy to convince the enemies of the Wolves, and the invaders of Ashenvale that the Aurora Wolves were constantly on the move, and to lure them away from the real camp.
The ancient Draenei took a deep breath, inhaling the refreshingly cool air of the forest and allowed himself the ghost of a smile. With any luck he would settle here someday and live out his life in this beautiful wilderness. Of course, Ormel occasionally missed the convenience of city life and the constant noise and activity. The forest of Ashenvale was equally active but it was a natural, subtle activity that he was not accustomed to yet.
Ormel leaned against one of the trees and took stock of the camp and the surrounding area, by his estimation he was about eight or so miles North from the Silverwing Grove, the forest was eerily quiet tonight, the usual sounds of the wildlife in the area quelled and replaced by a dead silence, broken only by the rustling of leaves and branches from the rare gusts of wind that penetrated the dense woodland.
Turning back to his slowly cooking meal, Ormel absently continued turning the meat while looking over a map of the forests provided by the Sentinels. He had, thus far been moving a few miles every couple of days. The routine was simple. Set up a camp, leave it and return to the battles waging in the eastern regions of the forests. A few days later he would ride out and pack up some of the camp and move on. He had received word from Elves who watched over the camps that Horde scouts had been spotted near the fake camps every now and then. They were trying to track the Wolves and so Ormel set about luring them deeper into the forest.
It had been a necessity to make the Horde believe they were onto something. In order to do this Ormel or some of the other Wolves would occasionally ambush and kill scouts near the false camps, leaving the bodies near the remains of the camp as they moved on. Unfortunately the supplies required to keep setting up these diversions were expensive. The Wolves agreed that it was gold well spent however as the search for the mercenaries kept at least some of the Hordes scouts occupied.
It wasn't long before his meal was fully cooked and Ormel began hungrily devouring the deer meat, he sat back up against one of the great trees of the forest and sighed wistfully as he picked his teeth clean with the point of a dagger he normally kept stowed in his belt. Most of his armour was set aside and freshly tended to after the previous days battles, gore and fluids were cleaned from it, dents battered out. His favoured mace was back in the main camp and tonight he carried only a Draenic long sword and shield, both kept within arms reach at all times. Following a final check of the camp Ormel set himself down on a bedroll and drifted off into a peaceful sleep.
Not far from the camp
Deathstalker Eldwin silently cursed his former friend, Alsuras had promised him a chance to serve the Dark Lady in glorious battle and he had arrived in Splintertree only to be sent out into this damp and life filled corner of nowhere. Eldwin was an exceptional tracker and he understood that his goal out here was to track a mercenary unit who had been moving around the forest and assaulting patrols. They had also intervened in a number of raids by the glorious forces of the Horde and participated on strikes against Splintertree alongside the damned Elves.
It hadn't taken the Deathstalker long to find a recent camp, it seemed they were heading deeper and deeper into the woodlands, possibly fearing reprisals for their attacks. Rightly so, Eldwin thought to himself. It clearly irked the soldiers in Splintertree that while they knew where to strike at the Elves these damned hired blades simply struck and vanished back into the forests.
As he traversed the forest there were a few occasions where the Forsaken felt as though he was losing his bearings, snarling he took a vial of poison from his belt and broke it against a small sapling growing alongside one of the larger trees. The effect was immediate as the leaves fell away and the tree began to wither and die as the poison seeped through the bark quickly and ran down into the ground, killing the plant. It was a petty and pointless act but he felt as though the very forest itself was working to confuse and stop him. He grinned at the notion that he was punishing this land for acting against its future masters.
A rustling of leaves nearby shook Eldwin from his thoughts and he instinctively uncorked an invisibility potion, draining the contents he slipped away to observe what was to come. A solitary bear, came from the undergrowth and began sniffing the air, slowly it lumbered towards the dead sapling and as it noticed the broken glass and toxic fluids running along the bark it growled. It raised its head into the air, sniffing and peering around the area, searching, the pungent stench of the dead plant combined with the poisons were proving too much of an obstacle. Eldwin already knew what he was dealing with. A moment later the bears muscles began to contract and shrink and the beast reared onto its hind legs, within seconds a Night Elven druid was standing before the still hidden Undead.
Eldwin’s cruel smile split his face, as the undead carefully and with the skill brought about by near fanatical levels of training, approached the Elf. Drawing his blade slowly, and only as the Elf walked, each footstep cracking dried leaves, masking the sound for a millisecond. His blade fully drawn, Eldwin decided he had savoured enough of the moment and struck, with speed of a snake coiled in waiting, the Deathstalker raised his blade and drove it straight through the skull of the Elf burying the blade up to its hilt in the brain matter and flesh of his foe. With only a gurgle of blood from the back of his throat, the elf fell face down in the grass and leaves. Eldwin planted a foot on the head gaining enough purchase to tear the blade free.
Feeling energised by his kill the Forsaken set off, bounding through the forest with considerable speed, weaving between trees and leaping over roots. No longer feeling the forest work against him. That's right, he thought, mourn the death, learn your place.
Eldwin spent almost two hours sprinting through the forest, a gift of his...condition being he did not tire, he could run and run without stopping. When he finally reached his destination, the fire in middle of the camp was still smouldering, smirking Eldwin began to creep around the trees trying to locate a sign of life from within the camp. It didn't take him long to register the sleeping blue mass by one of trees.
It was all he could do to stop himself laughing out, this was far too perfect. He'd return with this ones head and a fine share of the plunder for future raids would be his. There was only Draenei male noted among the mercenaries, and he was the leader, this one matched his description perfectly. Silently and carefully, Eldwin uncorked yet another vial of poison hanging from his belt and poured some of the contents along the length of his blade. He had no intention of rushing this. He would savour every moment of this cretins death.
The Deathstalker crept ever closer to his quarry, and when he was standing over him, Eldwin dropped to his knees and drove his blade straight through the Draenei's leg, and then as he woke struck at the other one before leaping back.
Ormel woke, bellowing a curse in Draenic that would set a blush on the face of even the most rugged member of the Defias. He made to clamber to his feet and collapsed back onto the ground instantly, his legs completely numb. Using his arms to push himself back he fell against a tree and grabbed his sword and shield. The warrior grimaced as he looked down at his legs, blue blood streaming from between the joints in his armour.
"Immediately moving to ensure nothing can approach you from behind, quick thinking Draenei. Sleeping alone in hostile territory out of your armour however, was not so clever." Ormel glanced around the camp trying to find the source of the rasping voice. From behind one of the tents stepped a Forsaken, hunched over it was covered in leather armour, from the belt at its waist there dangled vials of toxic looking liquids. Ormel scowled as he noticed one was nearly empty.
"You don't wear the tabard of Storm and Ruin, I take it you're an outsider?" Ormel growled, fighting to stay focused, he could feel an icy cold flowing through his body, the numbness was spreading, albeit slowly. "I see you did not want to risk me being able to fight back, cowardly."
If his words even registered with the Undead he had no idea, the creature certainly did not react. It simply watched, strolling casually over to the fire it lowered itself to the ground, tracing shapes into the ground with the point of his blade.
"Something occurred to me, this is awfully amateurish, only one person at the camp? Asleep? Where are the others? Where are the rest of your little group?" Eldwin asked, keeping his voice low, though Ormel wasn't sure if that was intentional or a limitation of his semi decomposed body. His wheezing, raspy voice seemed to struggle to carry across any distance.
"You're reading too much into it, they went out foraging, as you said, an amateur mistake. Nothing more."
"You see, I don't believe that. It's starting to make sense now, actually. Despite the increasing distance between these camps and the frontlines your soldiers are always quick on the scene of any battles. So, you're going to tell me where your real camp is, and then I'm going to kill you." The Forsaken said in a very matter of fact tone.
The Draenei scoffed, but his mind was racing, he would not tell this worm anything, but he needed to keep him busy enough to allow the toxin in his blood to run its course, throughout the conversation he had been channelling the meagre healing powers all Draenei were blessed with, trying to purge the poison from his body. The poison was being purged slowly, but he needed more time and he couldn't afford to have this Forsaken putting more poison into his bloodstream.
"How many like you are in this forest now?" Ormel blurted out, Eldwin who had been applying another toxin to a small surgical blade stopped in his work and shrugged his shoulders lightly.
"I've no idea, my dear friend Alsuras is a cunning bastard, and has more then likely enlisted the aid of every single person with a debt to him in order to expand his knowledge of this place and as a result, his power in the conflict. As far as I know I'm the only Deathstalker hunting your people, but that may not be the case. Now, hold still, this may hurt." With that the undead crouched and put his blade to Ormels cheek, as it neared him the Draenei sprang into action, tightening his grip on his shield he brought it up into the Forsaken's face and sent him sprawling across the camp.
Ormel staggered to his feet, his legs shaky but at least he was standing again. His sword gripped tightly in one hand, his shield in the other. The Forsaken was already on his feet, his jaw broken and off centre. If this hampered him in any way other then his ability to speak he made no indication. He leapt at the Draenei, ducking under his guard and slicing at his exposed body with the blade of a dagger. Quick thinking and the freedom of movement being out of his armour provided saved Ormel from the blades edge, he pivoted to one side and swept the undead’s legs out from under him with a swing of his leg.
The Deathstalker hit the ground with a thud and rolled back to his feet quickly. He struck again this time his dagger meeting the warriors shield, Ormel struck out with his blade. The Forsaken easily dodged the strike and brought his fist up in a flat palmed strike the connected cleanly with the Draenei's nose.
Ormel reeled, blood streamed from his broken nose, dazed he caught the faintest glance of a blade as it was plunged into his stomach, the Draenei howled in pain and rage, the dagger sliced easily through the muscle and meat, the cold blade was undoubtedly coated with more of that poison, or perhaps some other mixture.
The sudden realisation of what would happen when that poison spread to his heart chilled him to his bones, Ormel looked down at the dagger, still buried in his gut and then to the Forsaken who was grinning coldly at his work.
Ormel could not afford to prolong this fight, he kicked at the undead who pulled his blade free as he leapt back, a spray of blue blood followed the dagger and Ormel struggled to catch his breath as his foe once again pressed his advantage.
The undead charged in, ducking, weaving and feinting, Ormel snarled as each blow came closer and closer to slipping past his guard as he steadily weakened from a combination of blood loss and the work of the toxins in his body. There was a time for fighting, and there was a time for cheating. Without warning Ormel dived over to one of the tents and grabbed a pack from inside, the Deathstalker was on him in an instant, the two combatants grappled on the ground until Ormel got his hooves in under the Forsaken and kicked him away, sending the undead tumbling to the ground.
With the pack in hand Ormel scrambled to his feet and withdrew a vial of clear water. The Forsaken narrowed his eyes upon seeing this and grinned, taking a single step towards Ormel before the Draenei threw the vial, it shattered against the Deathstalkers face and as the water ran down it, his expression changed from one of arrogance to one of agonised horror.
His rotting flesh was emitting steam and chunks of meat were simply melting from his face and the parts of his body the water had come into contact with. Falling to his knees Eldwin emitted a strangled scream, looking up he saw the Draenei standing over him, blood still poured from his wounded stomach and legs, he looked as though he were about to collapse. The warrior readied his blade and forced a smile onto his face.
"My daughter likes to bless her surgical tools with holy water." Eldwin was about to scream when the Draenei struck his head from his shoulders, the semi melted skull bounced along the ground coming to a rest just as the headless corpse slumped and fell to the ground.
Ormel hobbled over to the pack he had taken the water from and emptied the contents onto the ground, he dropped to his knees searching through the spilled medical supplies, and cursed, no anti-venoms. His body convulsed and the Draenei fell flat, his mind raced and he was coated in sweat, hid body was giving out. Closing his eyes Ormel managed a smile.
"Time's up, I'm coming, Alahnna."
He lay there for a while, unable to sense the passing of time, his heartbeat slowed, and as he felt himself teetering on the brink of oblivion, a voice whispered in his ear.
"Not yet husband, you have more to do."
The voice, so familiar, Ormel tried to focus, he turned his head to see Elani sprinting across the camp, she was yelling something but Ormel couldn't hear, she knelt alongside him and he felt her begin to channel her magic. Grinning ruefully Ormel muttered quietly.
"Not yet then.."
Category:Story