Plan B
She had slept a bit overnight, waking a few times to check on Hero. Each time, she found Kaz keeping vigil, chanting. She pondered the elf’s offer of help. She really couldn’t afford to leave off things for a week. A change in routine makes people wary. But… she couldn’t exactly let him in at the ground floor, either. Looks like Plan B was in order.
In the morning, Myrre performed more healing rituals on Hero. She offered to do the same for Bjorke, but was waved off. “I’ll mend,” was the response. The Druid said Hero was well enough to travel. She wasn’t sure about Bjorke, but knew it was a moot point. Read the rest of this entry »
Is there a Doctor in the House?
“My, my, the scenery in Nagrand sure is lovely this time of day.” Iophon switched from prowling cat to dapper elf with his usual grace. “Having a party, are we?” He eyed the chanting Orc for a moment before turning his attention to Bjorke. He frowned. “I don’t suppose she’s far enough gone to let you do any Light-based healing?” He spoke to Myrre, all the while assessing Bjorke’s wounds.
“No, not really, but… even then, I fear my skills are not up to the challenge.” Read the rest of this entry »
Hero
Kaz’ran carried the dog gently, his large arms and hands cradling him. Even the Goblin downstairs looked stricken at the sight of Hero. He lay the dog on the bed, and headed back downstairs to do the same for Bjorke. She protested much more than the dog, and he grinned at her. “I like carrying you,” he said in Orcish, knowing she didn’t understand clearly.
She hit him anyway, and he laughed. The look in his eyes showed he was deeply worried for his friend, and her companion. He set her down next to the bed, and she knelt over her beloved dog. His fur was matted with blood, and he lacked the strength to whimper. She stroked him gently, speaking softly to him. Read the rest of this entry »
Linguistic Challenges
It had been a bad idea from the start. She didn’t trust Trolls, she didn’t even like Trolls. Once bitten, twice shy, as it were. Hmm. Twice bitten, thrice kill on sight? Didn’t have the same ring to it. She kept her hat pulled low, and stuck to the cool shadows the wagon cast on the hard, cracked earth. Read the rest of this entry »
Negotiations
Bjorke straightened up the small room in the Guild Hall. With Norgoth gone so much, deep in his own reaction to the events of that fateful night, Bjorke spent less and less time at their hut.
She headed down to the main room, her bag packed and wearing the thin leather pants, white shirt and now red-stained boots. Not even Truitt could get the red dust color off. He was there, sweeping, but seemed to be raising dirt, rather than corralling it. Read the rest of this entry »
The Cartigraphic Personnel Delineator
The communications stones had been acting up for days. Whether it was coincidence or caused by the Gnome, Arsonite’s reappearance didn’t really matter. It had given Bjorke an idea, to increase security in her operation. Instructing the diminutive engineer to meet her in Ratchet, she took her usual table, in the back.
“I need you to modify the locater function on the ‘stones.” He hadn’t designed the communications system, but had enhanced it to track the whereabouts of Sterling members. In the Guild Hall, a large map blinked with the location of each person, even if they switched off the sound transmission. Each member could access this information, providing back up and assistance to any in need. She was quite proud of her security system, and it had saved her people many times. Read the rest of this entry »
All Sorts of Monsters
((This jumps back in time a bit, to fill in some story.))
She crept down the corridor again, night after night, it seemed. The damp earth beneath her feet; the rough stone wall at her side, rasping at her fingers; the sickly-sweet rotted-fruit stench in her nose. The hair on the back of her neck on end, her spine tingling. He was there, waiting… no, not “he”… not any more. “They” had taken over, extinguishing the consciousness that was Ose, the man, the Sterling. Behind her they came, closer, scuttling. The urgent need to run, to escape propelled her down the black passageway. She had to save them, warn them, protect them. They depended on her, trusted her. Read the rest of this entry »
Blood, Glory and Honor?
Bjorke and Norgoth sat side by side in the Guild hall, silent, brooding and drinking heavily. Truitt came in to see if he was needed, took one look at them, turned around and left. He wasn’t paid enough for that type of combat.
“We should have told them. They are our Blood Guard; we should have at least told them.” Her voice was tired and weary. Instead of curling into her own chair by the fire, she had chosen the straight, hard chair at the table. Norgoth sat in the matching chair, leaning his elbows on the table. The candle light etched the lines into his face and as Bjorke looked at him, she could tell the evening had taken a toll on him, as well. Read the rest of this entry »
To the Scholomance!
Bjorke sat at the top of the long table in the Guild Hall, Norgoth in the chair at her right. Maps of the Plaguelands littered the table, and around it, all of Sterling: some in chairs, some standing, some on the benches that lined the wall. There were quiet murmurs, as the younger, less experienced members tried to ascertain what was going on. Norgoth leaned over to her, and spoke quietly in Althorin. “They grow restless, and worried.” She nodded, and stood up.
“As you all know, the Scourge still controls most of Lordaeron. There is even a school there, to teach necromancy,” she sneered, the word vile on her lips, “to the living and undead alike.” She pauses, looking at each of her people. “We may not be able to eradicate the Scourge itself, but we can put some souls to rest, and disrupt the school, at least for a time.” Read the rest of this entry »
Blood and Justice
Bjorke dug her spurs in Blasit’s flank, urging him across the bridge to the island of Caer Darrow. The beast stood, bleating in protest. The Plaguelands always spooked him a bit. Hero’s fur was standing on end – he didn’t like the place, either. “C’mon, fellas.” She tried to reassure them, but a sense of dread was upon her, as well. Squaring her shoulders, she kicked him harder. The trio moved slowly across the bridge, passing a courtyard where candles seemed to burn without substance. Eerie voices drifted on the wind, just out of hearing. The air was cold, and smelled foul – death, sorrow and despair, if such things could smell.
Hero growled, and Bjorke jerked her body to look behind her. Nothing. Hero continued to stare and growl. “What is it, boy?” A leaf blew across the courtyard, and a faint giggle chased it. A shiver ran down Bjorke’s spine. There was nothing to be seen. Read the rest of this entry »
