The Search for Redemption

“How do you feel, beloved?”

“You remember playing Hide and Seek as a kid?”

Edrick looked at her, puzzled. She looked at Jiv, who shrugged and shook his head. “You hide, and someone tries to find you. If they give up, and stop looking, they give a signal, like a code word. I feel like the code word has been giving. No one’s looking for me anymore.”

“But what if another demon latches onto that mark?” Edrick frowned, his face creased with worry.

“Perhaps the Shaman can help with that.”

“Perhaps a matching mark, to bind the two of you together…” Jiv’s voice trailed off as he saw the look Bjorke gave him. Read the rest of this entry »

“Get up, human! You didn’t pay to sleep here!” The shrill voice pierced her subconscious, and she groaned. “Get up! And you’re gonna pay for the broken merchandise!” Bjorke opened her eyes. A Goblin stood over her, and at his back was a huge, shaggy Tauren. She blinked a few times as her brain tried to make sense of what was going on. “Get her up!” the Goblin shrieked. The Tauren bent down, and grabbed Bjorke by the arm, hauling her to her feet.

Her body was bruised and sore, and her head ached. She brushed herself off, and noticed the Goblin’s outstretched hand. “Time is money, friend!” he cackled, making it clear she was not really his friend. Bjorke reached into her shirt and retrieved the small sack of gold. She handed it to the Goblin.

“This should cover your losses.” And then some, thought Bjorke, but didn’t feel like haggling with her head throbbing so. She limped out of the tavern, and up to the flight master. Not having the energy for much else, she headed for her home in Ironforge. That bath would have to do. Read the rest of this entry »

Bjorke woke in the early morning light to the sound of chopping wood and the smell of cooking meat. She loved waking up in Edrick’s hut. It was small, with a fire pit in the center. Iron poles held the cooking pots, and a hole in the peak of the roof served as a chimney. A table was pushed against one wall. Bowls and cooking utensils were stacked neatly on it. Beneath the table was a large copper tub that Edrick had made for her. She felt like a spoiled princess whenever he dragged it out and filled it with hot water for her to bathe. He preferred the stream outside, but knew how she loved her baths.

When not in use, the furs for the bed were rolled and stacked against the wall. Tanned hides were pinned up to the two windows. Pegs held them in place against harsh weather, but could be swiveled back to open the windows. The windows were open now, and the morning sun shone in, warming the dirt floor. Bjorke stretched, and wiped the cobwebs of sleep from her face. She inhaled deeply – that breakfast smelled great!

Edrick walked in with an arm-load of wood. “Ah, good, you are awake.” He set the wood down, adding some to the fire, then turned the steaks in the pan to cook the other side. “You had a restless night, my love.”

She had not yet told him of the nightmares. Ever since the Shaman had removed the spy thing from her leg, her sleep was haunted with phantoms and demons. Sometimes, she saw herself, standing over a slain body. Other times, it was as if she were seeing things with her own eyes. But there was always laughter… deep, menacing, horrific laughter. She had yet to see whose body lay at her feet, and was not sure she wanted to know.

Bjorke sat up, and wrapped a fur around herself. “A lot on my mind, I guess.” She wolfed down the food when he handed her the plate, avoiding conversation.

“What is it you want most?” the old elf had asked her the night before.

“To fight by Edrick’s side,” was her answer. “If I could do that the rest of my life, I would be happy.” As she remembered the conversation, the images of the nightmares crept back in her brain. The harsh laughter, her blades bloodied as she stood over a body… a very…. large…. body….. Bjorke gasped in shock, dropping the plate, and she looked up into the face of the man she loved.

The next evening, as she was finishing up her Guild business for the day, she received a request for interviews from two prospective candidates. The first, a young elf, she met in Loch Modan. She seemed capable enough. Too bad she was learning healing from the Dwarves. Ah well, Bjorke thought. Perhaps she’d figure out how blasted useless they were before it was too late. The next was a Draenei. Bjorke was ready to unwind, so she had him meet her at the Blue. By the time her business was done, Bjorke was more than ready for a drink, so she headed downstairs. Sitting quietly under the stairs was her old friend, Jiv. She smiled, ordered two mugs, and headed over to his table. Setting the mugs down, she traced her fingers along the deep gouges on the table, and smiled at the memories of putting them there.

The pair sat in silence for a bit, drinking. The mugs emptied, Jiv looked over at her. “What have you been up to lately? Haven’t seen you around.”

“I’ve been battling elementals and a riddle.”

“Any luck?”

“Just with the elementals.”

“And the riddle?” Read the rest of this entry »

When Bjorke ran into Edrick outside the Ironforge bank, he looked as if he might pick her up and carry her off, right there in front of everyone. His grin spread from ear to ear, granted, a bit lopsidedly. Bjorke smiled back at him, happy to be back home. He looked her up and down, and Bjorke laughed. “Will I do?” she chuckled.

“Hum?” His face turned puzzled.

“You look me over as if I am a piece of meat in the butcher’s shop.”

He grinned again. “Let’s move away from the hustle, so we can talk.”

Bjorke knew what he meant, and headed to her apartment. As soon as they were down the stairs, Edrick picked her up, embracing her, his mouth on hers hungrily. “I missed you, beloved,” he whispered hoarsely in Althorin. When he finally set her down, he held her at arm’s length, looking her over.

“You look tired. How is… ‘it’?”

“Fine. Still sore, but healing.”

“Did you get all you needed?”

She knew she should tell him what she suspected, but she didn’t want to fight with him again. Time enough tomorrow, she told herself, and merely nodded. “Yes. Everything the Shaman asked for.”

The gleam in his eye told her she was in for a proper welcoming, and she grinned up at him before wrapping her arms around him.

Bjorke rose early, unable to sleep. It had been months since she’d had a nightmare, but in the past weeks she had been plagued with them again. Images of Niles intertwined with the warlock Aeron Bastual had filled her dreams, clawing at her as she laughed. Quietly, she dressed, then gathered her gear. She was loading her field rations when she felt Edrick watching her.

She turned to him. His eyes were dark and piercing, but she could see he was more hurt than angry. Bjorke crossed the small room, and bent to kiss him. He wrapped his strong arms around her, and pulled her down atop him. She felt his desire through the fur rug, and groaned. “I must go, my love. The sooner I leave, the sooner I will be finished.” Kissing him lightly, she avoided his gaze, and wriggled her way out of his embrace. “I will miss you, and I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

Heading up the stairs, limping slightly, Bjorke waited until she was outside before wiping her face. She summoned her faithful “goat,” Blastit, and headed North. The shaman wanted elemental components, and those were best found in Arathi. Blastit knew the paths well, and she dozed as they traveled. But even in such a light sleep, the gruesome images swirled in her head. She saw her own actions, as if she were outside herself, and heard laughter. Blastit bleated at her, and she woke with a start, glad to be back in the real world again. Her mount stamped his feet in warning – a group of orcs, six or seven of them, were headed for Hammerfall. Bjorke watched, but they were merely passing through. Read the rest of this entry »

When she arrived at the party, Bjorke found several people already gathered. She played her role as hostess, trying to ignore the searing pain in her leg. As the night wore on, her patience wore thin. Talk turned to politics, as it often did, and tempers flared. A young priest tried to turn the topic onto more practical matters, saying her current tasks were harder than she expected.

The old elf, Jivundus, spoke up. “Perhaps you should find a husband to take care of you.”

Bjorke’s temper snapped. Usually, she enjoyed his company, but this speech of his on love and marriage hit a nerve. “A woman does not need a man to take care of her! And love and marriage do not need to follow one another!” Edrick, who had been drinking steadily, stomped off to find more mead. Discovering the bartender had none, he threw his mug against the wall, and staggered outside, bellowing for his horse. Read the rest of this entry »

As she headed for the tailor shop, Bjorke thought about the night before. Perhaps this was a way she could show Edrick how much she cared for him. She had heard, through her contacts, of a shaman who could create wards of protection, in the form of tattoos. She thought if he could give her some sort of ward to neutralize her “mark of evil,” as she jokingly called it, then Edrick would be pleased. She was shocked to learn that in his culture, such a child would have been put to death instantly. Bjorke had thought it completely barbaric that her own father had even considered it. She stopped, suddenly, and chuckled at her choice of comparisons. Barbaric, indeed.

The tailor, Thukad, met her at the doorway to her shop, holding up his hand so she wouldn’t enter. “First, are you carrying anything that makes flames?”

Startled, Bjorke thought a moment. “Um.. no… my flint and tinder are not with me.”

Nodding, he then asked, “Anything made of copper?”

She snorted. Copper did not make fine weapons. “No.”

“Anything to make music?”

Was this some kind of joke? “No, no music.”

“Very well, you may enter.” His accent was vaguely familiar, as was his coloring.

“What of my dog?” Bjorke indicated Hero with a jerk of her head. “He’s well trained.” She half-expected him to object. Read the rest of this entry »