Meanwhile...

Authors: Pook Saraich Phinn Prrow Saraphita
==Pook's Tale==
Pook was unsettled and restless. She wasn't supposed to be unsettled and restless. She was supposed to be on VACATION, relaxing and drinking questionable Goblin drinks and lying in the sun on a beach and not thinking about much of anything. 
Not thinking of anything was exactly her problem, though. 
There was a hole in her memory. Not a fuzzy, had-too-much-to-drink blur, but a very neat segment of time, about 12 hours long, that had somehow gone missing. She hated to admit it, but what Flamebeard had said when she'd run into him in Stormwind the other day was true. It bothered her. He suggested things about that time that disturbed her, and implied in no small way that Cromwell and she herself had had something to do with deliberately erasing that time from her mind. 
It hurt her head to try to think about it too much. But like a sore tooth she couldn't stop poking at it. There was something just beneath the surface of her thoughts, and whatever it was, it made her anxious and frightened. Most of all, when she looked at-- 
There was a sudden and unceremonious smack on her rear end. She whirled in mock outrage to see Tybilt sitting on a nearby tree stump, looking entirely too innocently to the sky. She grinned and wrapped her arms around his neck... 
There it was again. A pang of...something. Fear? Guilt? Regret? 
"Something wrong?" Tybilt asked her with a frown. 
"No..." Pook said, shaking her head as if to clear it. "I just don't think she's everr going to show up..." 
There was a rustling, and then a Tauren girl stepped into the clearing, glancing about nervously. Pook and Tybilt smiled and rose to meet her. 
"There's our Orcish language tutor now," Tybilt said with a smirk. 
Ephe straightened a bit and smiled, and bowed her head. "Lok'tar," she said, enunciating carefully. 
"Hello," Pook said, just as clearly. 
"Hel...lo..." Ephe said slowly, trying the shape of the syllables in her mouth. 
"Lok...tarrr?" Pook said with a frown. 
"Luk'ter," Tybilt said more surely, but so innacurately that the girls couldn't help but giggle. 
"I think we all have a lot of worrk to do," Pook said with a smile, her worries forgotten. For now. 
==Saraich's Tale==
Saraich fretted. 
She wasn't usually one for fretting. Usually she was the kind of girl who solved her own problems, striding into whatever the field of battle held for her, her head high and her mace held steadily. But she was quickly getting into unfamiliar ground, and she was starting to do something she thought she never would again. 
As she looked helplessly at the yarn in her hands, the flimsy knitting needles, the amorphous blob that was supposed to be a baby's bootie she found herself sharply and suddenly missing her mother. Here she was, about to be a mother herself, and she felt...helpless. There was so much to be done, and while she knew the general shape of it, she had cared briefly for other babies in Deep Mountain as had every girl in preparation for her own eventual circumscribed role as a wife and mother and nothing else, especially as the daughter of a midwife, her sheer...aloneness...was overwhelming. In Deep Mountain the entire community more or less raised the children. When her baby was born, it would just be her and Flamebeard, and Draeg...well, he most likely had a lot more experience with animals than he did with baby care. 
She bit her lip against tears of frustration as she sat near the fire at Aerie Peak. Thinking of Draeg made her fretful too...he was out fighting the Scourge invasion while she was protected by the the Wildhammers. Simply dropping the Flamebeard name to them, one famous for generations for diplomacy and negotiation, and they had welcomed her with open arms. It wasn't like her to run, but at least this time Draeg knew where she was and visited her often. 
But she didn't like it. She didn't like being so helpless, so out of touch, her mind making up all manner of things that could be happening to Draeg right now... 
She tried to focus on the bootie again. It was this YARN. It was so flimsy, so pliable...she was a weaponsmith by blood and by choice. Before she was a Flamebeard by choice she was a Spearhewer by birth, and grew up learning blacksmithing at her father's knee. She worked with metals and ores, nothing this fragile and weak. Now when the child was a few years old and could weild their own mace that was another story, she could whip one up easily. And she could knit, it was just like making chainmail... 
Saraich's hands fell to her lap and a smirk came across her face... 
Some time later, Saraich stepped out into the sun. One hand resting on her abdomen, in her other she held something up to the light. 
A pair of shimmering baby booties sparkled in the sun, shining golds and silvers. The metal mesh was so fine and so soft they could have been made of silk. She smiled at them, peering at them for flaws with an expert appraising eye. 
It didn't matter if she didn't have generations of Dwarven women to help her and show her exactly what to do. She would find her own way. 
==Phinn's Tale==
Phinn took a long drag off her cigar, looking down in a hostile fashion into the courtyard below. After a while of nothing happening, just like nothing had happened for nights now, she took out one of her daggers and carved "Phinn Was Here" into the crate she was leaning against. 
Stupid frippin' Theramore. Stupid frippin' jobs, she thought to herself angrily. There were better uses of her time. A LOT better, these days. Not that they earned her any money. Well, they COULD, but she wasn't that kinda gal. She blushed and grinned goofily to herself, thinking about the Stonewrought Dam and her recent first visit to the Elven lands. It had been more or less what she'd expected...frippy, nice scenery, too fulla elves for her tastes...but the company was nice. 
Her grin spread wider, and her blush deepened. REAL nice. 
She jumped suddenly, something stinging her leg. She looked down in alarm to see that the stub of the cigar she was smoking had fallen into her lap. She brushed the burning ash off her leg hastily...it had already gone right through the leather. DAMN. She liked these pants, too...and were those...voices? 
FRIPPIN' DOUBLE DAMN. In her inattentiveness she'd completely missed the meeting of the two shadowy men below. She smacked her forehead in frustration...that meant ANOTHER damn night out here in damn Theramore instead of in Ironforge, where she wanted to be, she thought to herself angrily. And meanwhile who even KNEW what he'd get up to, she pondered...it wasn't like they'd said they were seein' each other exclusive-like or nothin', and that Arhena was sure ta be hangin' around...and Callence...and Pook...and shoot, maybe even his actual wife... 
She frowned miserably as she sat down, settling into a semi-comfortable position for sleep. She'd be lucky if he even remembered her name when she got back. She was pretty dang forgettable. It was kinda what made her so good at her job, but still. If there was any way she could have turned down this job, she would've. But this was a favor long since owed to the guy who'd let her stay at her dad's place after he passed on, even though he owed nothin' but a mountain of back rent and bar tab debt, and he didn't even ask her to do nothin' untoward for it. And now someone was movin' against his interests, plottin' somethin' about takin' down him and his guys, or somethin'...your standard business dealing gone bad. Phinn had seen it a hundred times before. 
And she hadn't even had a chance to say goodbye before she'd shipped off, neither. 
A thought started to cross her mind...she was gettin' soft. Distracted. Not payin' attention like she should. Things like that, in her business... 
In her mind she saw her father, his throat cut. He wasn't payin' enough attention. He got soft. He was distracted. 
She pulled a threadbare blanket around herself to block the worst of the chilly air coming in off the sea. It wasn't the cold that was giving her a chill anyway. But at the same time... 
She smiled, thinking of him as she fell asleep, as she did just about every night these days. Even if her work was getting sloppy, even if it put her in danger...she just couldn't bring herself to care.
==Prrow's Tale==
Prrow chewed on the end of the pen she held in her hand contemplatively, staring at the blank paper in front of her. It wasn't often that she was at a loss for something to draw. Whenever the mood took her it seemed her hands moved of their own accord, filling in details and sketching forms without much interaction or effort from her conscious mind. 
But these days she didn't have much TO draw. She was in hiding...again. Because Pook's actions made it too dangerous to be out and seen, because someone could take her or Jean Paul and use them against their counterparts, Pook and Cromwell. AGAIN. She was only half of a soul, having been split from Pook by Cromwell's dark ritual just a few short months ago. She was the "light" half to Pook's "dark". Just as Jean Paul was Cromwell's, split by the same ritual many years ago. And sometimes it seemed like she was only allowed to live half a life. 
Now there was this Cardinal. A man of the Church that had harbored Jean Paul for so long, he was on a crusade against the ritual and all those affected by it, all those who KNEW about it even. And that wasn't even to mention all the people set on hurting Cromwell and Pook who would gladly use their "weaker" halves for it, since due to their joined nature if you harmed one, you harmed the other. Her fingers lightly traced the scar down her side where Aden had stabbed Pook. She had shared the wound, and now she shared the scar. 
With a sigh she looked down at the page that was now filled with an image. It was Pook, grinning wickedly as she was wont to do, selfishly. Surrounded by darkness. She wanted to help her. She really did. But Pook fought her so hard at every turn...they shared the same soul, why did Pook resent her so much? She didn't even want to share the basic energy Prrow needed to live until she realized that if Prrow died she did also. She'd had to fight her tooth and nail to gain the ability to make so much as a single sound, and only with great effort and a lot of practice had she gained the ability to speak. 
Prrow sighed, catching her own thoughts. It seemed with life, speaking and strength, Pook was sharing a bit of her resentment with Prrow also. For balance, she supposed she had to take the bad with the good. 
Suddenly the air around her went still and quiet... 
Too quiet...she carefully took hold of the inkwell at the corner of the table and braced herself... 
"Hello," a quiet voice said next to her ear warmly. "What are you up to?" 
Prrow smiled, proud of herself that she hadn't jumped in the slightest. This usually ended with her knocking the inkwell off the table. 
"Drawing," she said, turning to face Jean Paul. "And catching on to your tricks." 
Jean Paul smiled back at her, running one hand down the side of her face. If this is living half a life, Prrow thought to herself, tilting her head to regard Jean Paul consideringly, then perhaps it's not so bad after all. 
==Saraphita's Tale==
A Tauren and an Undead man stared at a shining golden rectangular portal in the middle of the room thoughtfully. 
"I'm not sure about this, Kazume," The Tauren said, frowning and stroking his chin. "Playing with portals to other dimensions, other worlds...it strikes me as dangerous." 
"Ragemane, Rage..." Kazume said with a grin. "You're always so negative. Think about the possible gain! We can slip into other worlds unnoticed, loot them for their riches and then get away before anyone is the wiser! What if there was a portal directly into the Ironforge treasury on a parallel world! But on THIS world, there would be no alarms raised. No seeking the culprits. No messy trials and executions. Because the treasures wouldn't be from THIS world. And meanwhile, the poor saps on THAT world can't follow! It's BRILLIANT! MWA-HAHAHAHAA!" 
The door next to them was unceremoniously kicked open and a scowling Orc burst through. "I heard Kazume doing his evil laugh. No good has ever come of that. What the DAMN is going on in here!?" 
"Kash!" Kazume said innocently and Ragemane ducked his head, immediately trying to disassociate himself from anything going on. 
Kash glared steadily at the portal, and then at Kazume. At the portal, and then back at Kazume. 
"So I'm curious," he said casually. "Why the hell is there an interdimensional portal in the middle of the room?" 
"Oh, is THAT what that is?" Kazume said with a smirk. "Congratulations. You're not half as blind or as stupid as I thought." 
"You know about the last thing I want to see in the middle of my living room right now?" Kash asked, his tone still dangerously moderated. "An interdimensional portal. I'd say in fact it's about at the bottom of the list of things I WANT in my damn LIVING ROOM. Are you TRYING to bring the Burning Legion straight up all of our asses, or was that just a FRINGE BENEFIT!?" 
"Pfft, the Legion. I can handle them," Kazume said, rolling his eyes. Almost imperceptably next to him, or as imperceptable as a huge, hulking Tauren warrior could be, Ragemane sidled quickly out of the room. 
Kash took two quick strides and lifted Kazume by the front of his fancy purple robes. "If you don't want my FOOT to join the Legion in your ASS, you'll take that thing DOWN right NOW." 
"You have no vision, Kash! None!" Kazume spat. "And it's not that simple..." 
"My foot is twitching, Kazume. It's starting to move. Talk fast," Kash said with a level glare, still holding tight. 
"I could take it down right now, of course. It's within my vast power to do so. But then, I don't think you want the entire universe to collapse on itself and cease to exist, do you?" Kazume grinned. 
"I'm gonna collapse your head if you don't get to the point," Kash shook Kazume harshly. 
"Fine! FINE! I'll take it down! But it'll take TIME, all right? You can't just uncreate an interdimensional portal like that! It has to be carefully dismantled to prevent the unravelling of the fabric of reality..." 
"The reality is that if you so much as take a piss until it's done, I will personally unravel the fabric of your guts and make them into a pretty Sunday bonnet. And I will wear it around Orgrimmar and I will giggle like a schoolgirl. Are we clear?" Kash said, deadly calm. 
Kazume's eyes narrowed. "Crystal. Sir." He hissed. 
Kash dropped him on the ground unceremoniously and stalked out of the room, sparing a last glare at the portal as he went. 
"Blind, the lot of them are blind cowards!" Kazume griped as he gathered himself up and dusted himself off. "I suppose I'd better go start gathering the reagents...but where am I going to get the still-beating heart of a virgin at THIS time of night...?" 
His muttering faded as he left, leaving the door slightly ajar. There was relative peace and quiet for a while, and then another sound approached. It was odd, disjointed and high-pitched. It went something like... 
"...boingy boingy Boingy! Boingy! Boingy!" With a flat, sharp sound accompanying each exclamation. And also a very soft slithering sound. 
The commotion came to an abrupt stop outside the slightly open door, and a pair of glowing eyes peered inside. 
"Ooo, sparkly!" A voice exclaimed slightly below the eyes, and the shape of a girl slid with exaggerated sneakyness into the room. A girl who was missing quite a bit about the elbows, her short dull blonde hair sticking out from her head at odd angles, but a girl nonetheless. 
She was shortly followed by a large black snake that regarded the portal dispassionately. Snakes don't generally do much in the way of looks other than dispassionate, but this one was especially so. 
"Shut up, Fred, I can touch it if I want!" The Undead girl said with a pouty frown at the snake, despite the fact that it had made no audible sound. 
"The OTHER voices want me to touch it," She said with a sniff. "The OTHER voices are always MUCH nicer to me than you are. They tell me stories about chocolate and shoes and the little itty bitty bones inside a person's ear. All YOU ever want to talk to me about is 'Don't do that' or 'Don't eat that' or 'Stop stabbing that person, he's already dead!'" 
The snake turned and looked at her slightly more dispassionately than before. 
"Don't you give me that look Fred! Look! Look what I'm doing, and you can't stop me! Tooooouch..." The girl said, holding out a finger to the portal. 
The snake hissed sharply. 
"Tooooooooouuuuuucccccccchhh..." The girl said again, a self-satisfied smirk spreading across her face. 
The snake quickly slithered up her leg, around her waist and over to her arm where it fixed her with the king of all dispassionate looks. 
"Fred, don't DO that! It tickles!" She said with a giggle. "OH! I know! Let's have a staring contest!" 
There was silence for a moment. 
"I KNOW you don't have eyelids, Fred! I don't have EYES! It'll be FUN! But before we start...touch!" Saraphita declared triumphantly. 
There was a flash, and then the room was empty again of both girl and snake. After a time Kazume wandered back in, still grumbling under his breath, his arms full of writhing and dripping objects best not examined too closely. He tilted his head and raised an eyebrow for a moment, on the verge of sensing or hearing something, and then shook his head. 
He had a lot of work to do. Damn Kash.
Category:Stories