Blackhoof Trading Co

It had been a few months since the last time Fhaliona had visited the island of Tol Barad, but not much had changed. The docks were bustling; the villagers going about their business of buying, selling, and trading; visitors making their way from the boats to the inn and tavern to sample the renowned food and drink. She passed several with a slight nod, ignoring the concerned stares and whispers at her corrupted appearance and focusing as much attention as she could at blocking the demonic eye on her forehead from sharing its gaze to its master. Fhal's gold-shod hooves clacked on the stone pathway leading up to the house where her goddaughter and three fathers lived. She gently placed a small iron-bound trunk on the doorstep and tucked a hastily scrawled note into one of the handles before turning to leave. “Diz- I pray all is going well for your family. Forgive me for not staying to visit. I am currently suffering from a malady which cannot be cured through conventional means. In this chest you will find some herbs, freshwater fish, and cloth. Please use them to continue Vivi's alchemy and medical training. - Fhal”

“Look! Even your precious Light is not immune to corruption. The Black Empire will rise again, and all of Azeroth will bend the knee to Madness!”

When the unlikely trio returned to camp, word of their attack had already spread like wildfire. The baby was left with the medics while Dizarak and Fhaliona headed to the barracks for debriefing. The void male went first, while the Lightforged paced outside pondering exactly how much threatening she'd have to do to ensure he got his way. Once he was finished, Diz emerged and shot a look of disappointment toward Fhaliona. Of course they said no. The herald poked his head out through the doorway and paled at the look on her face as she marched up to the building, not needing to be ushered in. The council had been arguing and seemed in a foul enough mood. She would have to tread carefully.

The Human spoke first. “We have already received Sanar's report. Do you have anything to add?”

Fhaliona shifted. “Had we been permitted to act sooner, we would have prevented loss of life. Those captives were being executed at a rate of one to two per day. The child would still have her family.”

A Gilnean spoke next. “The child will do well with her own people in Stormwind.”

“You want to place an infant in the capital city, overrun with refugees, in the middle of a war? Have you lost your minds?! She belongs with a loving family in a safe place far away from this conflict!”

The Gilnean's face reddened and Fhaliona knew she'd spoken out of turn. Then the Dwarf spoke. “Wha' do ye suggest then, lass?”

“She should go with Dizarak back to Tol Barad.” More arguing from the council. Fhaliona raised her voice. “He has a warm home and a family. The village is well guarded by those who have taken residence there, including a full contingent of displaced Demon Hunters. If that is not acceptable, at least allow the child to be placed in the orphanage there. They have the supplies and staff to ensure the child has everything she needs for healthy growth and social acclimation. The village is far enough from the battle and has no strategic value, and would not be attacked by the Horde.” She left out the part about the village being neutral territory. “If it comes down to it, I will take residence there and personally ensure her safety with reports back to Stormwind.” The council seemed unconvinced, so Fhaliona pushed just a bit more. “I can take an entire encampment down single-handedly. Between myself and the Illidari, that should be more than enough to guard one child from non-existent dangers.”

The commanders glanced back and forth to each other. “We will discuss this further. You are free to go.” Fhaliona turned on her heel, plucking the arrow from her pauldron and tossing it to the ground, making sure it stuck point-first into the dirt before heading back to her own tent.

Dizarak had been staring into the long-dead fire, his face a mixture of unreadable emotion. Fhaliona slipped her damaged plate off before sitting beside him, fishing two cigarettes from her belt pouch. She lit both, passing one to him and he took it without a word. They sat in silence for a moment before Diz asked, “What did they say?”

“They said they'd discuss it.” Fhaliona took a healthy drag from the cigarette, stifling a cough. “I can't guarantee anything, but I imagine you'll be collecting your prize from the medics before we leave.”

Diz sputtered, nearly choking on his smoke. “What did you tell them?”

Fhaliona glanced at him from the corner of her eye. “The 'Wind of Death' has personally ensured your daughter's safety.”

mentions: @dizaraksanar

The trail the young woman and the guards had made was not hard to follow, but the scene that unfolded took Fhaliona by surprise. Both guards were dead, poisoned daggers protruding from their backs between plates or armor. Fhaliona smiled slightly at this; there was a reason she'd chosen Diz as her battle buddy, he was nothing if not skilled. The woman lay motionless in a small pool of blood. Diz sat off to the side with the small bundle in his lap, staring down at it with his head in his hands. Fhaliona silently walked up beside him, peering down into the blanket and meeting a pair of large eyes and a tangle of blue hair. “Oh.... oh no.... no no no....”

Diz looked up at the almost whisper. “What are we going to do with a baby?”

Fhaliona sat beside him with some difficulty, her gashed and gore-streaked armor protesting, favoring a shoulder but not seeming any worse for wear. “You mean what are you going to do with a baby. I am a soldier with no home and no family. You have both of those.”

Diz turned back down to the bundle. “They'll send her to the Stormwind orphanages.”

Fhaliona scoffed. “They are already over capacity with Argus and Darnassus refugees. This child would have a better life in Rustberg, even in the orphanage there.”

“Good luck convincing our leaders of that.”

The warrior chuckled as she got to her feet. “No luck is needed. Maybe a few well-placed empty threats instead. Make the request. I will 'convince' them to allow it.”

Diz also stood, shifting the bundle in his arms, who promptly yawned and blinked sleepily. “You're going to get yourself thrown into the Stockades. Then who's gonna watch my back?”

“You let me worry about that. Someone needs to teach the small one how to properly use a sword.”

mentions: @dizaraksanar

Fhaliona leapt from the wagon as soon as it stopped, eyes scanning the war camp for the commanders' tents. After checking in, she found her gear already unloaded and a few squires standing ready, unwilling to meet her gaze. “Hero of Darkshore”. There are plenty of those. These boys act like they've never seen a hardened soldier before. She turned to the closest one as he squirmed. “Where's the furthest tent from here? I need my beauty sleep.” He pointed toward the east side of camp and they all scrambled to pick up the cots, bedrolls, and packs of personal supplies. May as well get things ready before Diz gets here. Making their way through the camp. Fhaliona caught the usual stares and whispers, but ignored them as the squires lead her to a more quiet area of the camp, away from the hustle and bustle, oaths about how many Troll ears would be taken and how much Orc blood would be spilled. Most of them would be lucky to survive if a real battle broke out.

The small group finally reached their destination, where two tents were already pitched near a small fire pit with logs around it as impromptu seating. She simply nodded her thanks as the gear was dropped and the squires scurried away, setting up her supplies in one of the tents and fetching wood from a nearby pile. Dizarak wasn't terribly far behind, just enough for her to tease him about being late even though he'd had farther to travel than she did.

The first few days were uneventful. The powers that be saw fit to send them on simple scouting missions. They'd come across a Horde encampment where captives were being held. Fhaliona had wanted to charge in and free them immediately, but the commanders' orders were simply to observe. She hated missions like this; patience and stealth were definitely not her forte, and why give the Horde the opportunity to further abuse and murder Alliance citizens? After a week of watching the captives slowly disappear, her rage had build to the point where it was barely controllable. Still no order to attack. It was a small camp; she could take them all out herself, and even more easily with Diz striking from the shadows.

Nearly two weeks passed. The captives had dwindled to half their original number. Fhaliona grumbled from her hiding place as Diz appeared beside her after once again taking count, knocking a fist against the side of the tree she crouched behind. “Ready?” he asked, knowing she'd grown tired of sitting while he'd gone ahead. “To what? Charge in? I could only hope that's what you meant.” She hated sitting around, and hiding behind a tree when she could be ridding the forest of the Horde invaders was just shameful and cowardly.

“If only.” Dizarak looked just as annoyed as she felt. Fhaliona sighed. “Maybe soon-” Diz's voice was drowned out as screams pierced the camp nearby and both froze.

“Now?” Fhaliona asked, springing to her full height, unsheathing her sword and nearly dancing with excitement.

“Now!” Diz snarled. The word had barely left his lips as Fhaliona rushed toward the camp and screams, the rogue hot on her heels.

Finally! Fhaliona burst through the undergrowth and leapt over the spiked wall to find the Horde camp in complete bedlam. The initial screams they'd heard were from a young Kaldorei woman, who was on the ground clutching a small bundle. The men, the few who were left, had begun fighting their captors with improvised weapons. Dwarves kneecapping Orcs with small boulders; there was even a Gnome who'd made it up a tree and was sending tiny boiling elementals conjured from the cook pots and cauldrons at the faces of the enemy. It was utter chaos; the kind Fhaliona thrived in. She glanced over her shoulder to Diz before throwing herself into the fray. “Take out their leaders. I'll handle the rest.” He vanished into the shadows as she struck, her blade taking the head cleanly off the nearest Orc. The captives hesitated and she barked, “You're not alone. Keep fighting! Take their weapons!” Diz had already finished with the commanders and saw fit to take out their Goblin engineers as well. Explosions rocked the far side of the encampment as he tripped their bombs from a safe distance. Good boy. Trolls, Orcs, Sin'dorei, they all fell before her whirling blade, but the battle had casualties on their side as well. These captives were not soldiers, and the Horde had ordered their immediate execution when the fighting broke out. The only one left was the young mother, and she took off running as soon as the fighting had begun in earnest. Another scream was heard from deeper into the forest just as Diz emerged from the shadows. The two shared a look and he disappeared through a void tear as Fhaliona turned back to the Horde soldiers that remained, her face a grim visage of cold fury as she took her large sword in one hand and picked up another from one of the fallen.

mentions: @dizaraksanar

Zeno entered the tavern, clearly agitated at the recent turn of events and the fact that is was a busy night with plenty of opportunity for eavesdroppers. She spotted Dizarak near the back bar and marched up to him, smiling briefly at the greeting she received from the various workers near the door. Diz looked at her with concern. For her to be away from Olathia's side meant something must have happened. “What brings you out tonight?” Zeno frowned, noticeably different from her usual scowl. “I have more information about our 'friend'.” Diz's eyes widened as he nodded. “Come with me.” He excused himself from the small group he'd been speaking with and lead her upstairs to speak with one of his mates, another member of the Raven Guard. The large paladin eyed both of them as they walked up to the landing, still keeping a close eye on the door and the patrons below. “Ash, this is Olathia's Left Hand.” Ashraen squinted as he leaned on the railing, the wood creaking in protest under his weight and that of his armor. “I know who she is, love. More curious as to why she's here.” Zeno shifted her gaze between the two giants, relaxing slightly. If these two were responsible for keeping an eye out for undesirables, it would make her job much easier. She still wasn't sure what Diz might have shared and who he shared with. “I have reason to believe a very dangerous person has been here recently.” Ash arched a brow. “Mm, really? Who? When?” At least he doesn't waste time getting to the point. Zeno looked sideways toward Diz before answering the paladin's rapid-fire questions, and the void male visibly stiffened at her words. “I heard him.” Then she turned to Ash. “I'm not sure when exactly. I am not sure exactly how much you have been told, but someone is hunting my boss. I believe it is one of us.” Ash narrowed his gaze at the undead woman before him. “I've gotten the gist of that. A source tipped me off before you. What does 'one of us' mean?”

Zeno shifted on her feet, still unwilling to divulge information about the less-than-secret society the former servants of the Lich King had formed. “A death knight, to be specific. Normally we have ways of tracking each other, and this one in particular has been missing. He's considerably more bloodthirsty than others, and if my hunch is correct he's out to finish a job.” Ash bared his fangs and muttered a curse. “That's what that meant... Godsdamnit.”

Diz looked at the other male while pointing a thumb at Zeno. “Besides what I relayed from her, who told you about this?” Zeno broke in, shifting again. “Wait, someone else knows about this?”

Ash flicked a look toward his mate. “Moira.”

“This was supposed to be kept quiet,” Zeno hissed through clenched teeth.

Ash glanced down at Zeno. “Moira gives me most of my tips and trade offs. She's not a gossip, trust on that.”

“She's a high-ranking courtesan in Silvermoon,” Diz added. “Call her an intel broker, if you will.”

Zeno nodded, but was clearly unsettled by that news. “I believe the one who attacked Olathia and left her for dead while still under Arthas' control is still stalking her. It would explain his disappearance.”

“I still don't understand why now,” Diz wondered aloud. “It's been so long.” “I've already spoken with Diz and Perchedon here about it, but I didn't have much information other than he uses an axe,” Zeno continued. “I heard his voice in my head the other night. Only one word, but it was enough.” She shuddered at the recent memory, hoping she was wrong and fearing she wasn't. “If he was here, you'd be able to tell me.”

Another Illidari, a very shy male with a large spider on his shoulders, had come up the stairs, hesitant to interrupt. Both of the giants turned to him. “What's wrong Behail?” Diz asked.

The Illidari instinctively reached up to cuddle the spider. “I, umm... Perchedon wanted me – for some reason – to... tell you, he will help with... whatever it is... you are speaking of.” Zeno smiled and nodded at Behail, while Diz thanked him. “We will brief him later. Thank you, Behail.” The Illidari turned and shuffled back down the stairs with a sigh, seemingly trying to not run from the tense conversation. Ash stared at the spider as he made his way back to the main part of the tavern. Zeno turned back to the two large men and let her voice carry slightly, knowing Perch would hear her but making sure he caught her words over the din of the busy room below. “He is a troll, and not a Darkspear. I would know that accent anywhere.”

Diz snapped his attention to Zeno before peering at Ash. “I haven't been around to keep as watchful of an eye, so I haven't personally seen anyone like that...” Perch had indeed caught her words and headed up, crossing his arms behind his back when he reached the landing, and Zeno tipped her head in greeting at him. Ash grunted and nodded. “Shouldn't be too damn hard to spot a Tr-...” His head tilted as Perch approached. “Though I really don't remember one. Taoln was flirting a troll, but I don't think he was a death knight.” Perch nodded back at Zeno before adding, “Trolls are rare in this area, though we do get them from time to time.” He avoided meeting Diz and Ash's gaze for some reason, but Zeno cared not about whatever interpersonal issues the men had as long as it didn't get in the way of keeping her boss safe. “I don't recall a death knight troll, though I can have a few of my Illidari scout the island for traces.” “How long ago was the troll here?” Zeno asked, immediately back to business. She turned to Perch. “That would be good.” Yet another bar employee made her way up to the small but growing group. Zeno looked at her blankly. “Are you Raven Guard also?” The void female regarded all of them with a sly grin. “Oh- ha. No, not that. My ears were just tinglin' with all this chatter.” She blinked a few times, looking at Zeno as if trying to place her. “Ya said something about a troll, not a Darkspear, and a death knight. Friend of yours?” She chuckled as if making a joke to herself.

Zeno narrowed her eyes. “Who isn't a friend of mine?”

Diz regarded the newcomer with widened eyes. “Wait. Have you seen one, Iri?”

Iri shrugged. “See all sorts with a friendly enough smile.” She gestured toward the back bar. “Had one here Monday. Asked me to keep an eye out for for-...” She turned her gaze back toward Zeno. “A blood elf death knight. And now you're here. Not named Hilde-somethin', are ya?” Zeno stiffened at the mention of that name and cursed under her breath. Ash snarled and bared his fangs, cursing colorfully in about three different languages. Iri clicked her tongue, noting the various reactions. “Aye. So it is you he was lookin' fer then.” Diz abruptly turned and slipped past the group, heading downstairs. “I have to ask Azryl something.”

This just got increasingly more difficult. “Then he knows I am looking for him.”

Perch had been silent for most of the conversation. He shot Zeno a pointed look. “I take it this isn't good. What should we do?”

“No, it is not.” Zeno's scowl was far more pronounced than usual. “For now, just stay alert. If he causes any trouble, kill him. I would rather be the one to take his head myself, but I cannot be everywhere at once.”

Ash crossed his arms. “You have to keep her away from here, Zeno.”

“I will be glued to her side no matter what.” Zeno's promises carried a little more weight than most.

Perch sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I'll see if Feng would be willing to help. She can sniff out a death knight from a mile away it seems.”

“If I had more information the last time I was here, he might not have slipped past.” Zeno looked at Iri again. “Did you happen to catch his name?” Iri lifted a brow. “Might have done. What's it worth?” She motioned toward Perch and Ash, shrugging. “Seeing as he walked right past these two, seems ya might be wantin' someone who pays attention.”

Ash snarled violently at Iri while Zeno stared her down. “Name your price.”

Perch forcefully shushed Ash and added, “I'll see to it that you're rewarded for any information you give us.” Ash just crossed his arms, eye twitching.

Iri looked between the two promising riches for a simple name. “Called 'imself Gerrozak. Leather armor covered in blood, his and others.”

Zeno cursed loudly this time. “He's a cannibal. He eats his victims. That blood was probably his last meal.” She scowled even more, if that were possible. “Makes sense he'd be looking for me, even if he doesn't know I'm guarding Olathia. He doesn't like to leave jobs undone.” Her hand wandered up the scar covering her right eye, a ruined mess of blue flame. “He did this too.”

Iri scrunched her face. “Lovely, that.” She took this as her cue to leave and headed back down to the bar and more pleasant conversations.

Perch's ears perked up and he looked at Iri as she went downstairs. “Yes. I saw him too now that you reminded me.”

Diz had returned just in time to catch that last bit of information. “If he's anything like you say he will go for the kill the same way.”

Perch crossed his arms over his stomach and dipped his head. “I should go pay Iri.” He turned and headed down the stairs, glancing up at Diz as he passed.

Zeno nodded at no one in particular, staring at the floor. “I will do my best to keep her away, unless I am with her, but she is far more stubborn than she lets on.”

“At least we know if she's here with either you or Wayland we should be fine?” Diz turned toward his mate. “Ash, if she shows up alone what do we do?”

Ash growled. “Ya pick her up, stuff her in a cave, and sit on her.” He flicked his ears and bared his teeth in frustration. Zeno snorted, the closest thing to a laugh anyone would get from her tonight.

Diz sighed. “I'd say at this rate, he's kill on sight. No questions asked.” Ash made a face and licked a fang. “Thinking back on Monday, I believe I know the troll. And if anyone sees him again... No questions asked. No playing with food. No hesitation. We end him.”

Having seen the paladin in action before, Zeno believed this to be true. “Monday... That's when I heard him. At least that bit is accurate. I can hear him if he's been someplace I have recently.” Diz had a thoughful look on his face. “If Zara is at the manor, and you are here, who's with Olathia now?”

Zeno cast a wry smile at Diz. “Wayland.” “And he doesn't have a description.” Diz turned his mismatched gaze from Zeno toward the door. “Get moving.”

Don't get used to giving me orders, little one. “I suppose I could interrupt.” “I don't give a shit if the boy is balls deep, Olathia is to be kept safe and that is the end of it,” Ash muttered. Diz grimaced as Zeno waved to the others and headed for the door, slipping between the crowds of people who still kept the tavern hopping even at this late hour.

mentions: @dizaraksanar, @ashraenv, @olathiawindgrave, @dreamfoiled (Behail), @perchedon, @irielle-firine

HISTORY

Nia was a Sentinel. She was defeated and sought out the Illidari to give her the strength to defend her people and their allies. That strength came with a price however, and upon returning home she found that most who knew her were dead, and she was not welcomed by those still alive. She does not like speaking of her past and avoids it at all costs. Her bonding ritual went as routinely as could be expected, although to show his displeasure at being subdued, her demon manifested in many physical characteristics, and Nia is very well aware of others' reaction to her somewhat grotesque appearance. He also took most of her eyesight, in exchange for greatly enhancing her other senses. She oddly doesn't mind speaking to others about her demon, which makes most people uncomfortable.

She has found a new home at the Heart of the Raven Tavern and Inn, out in Tol Barad. She works there as a server and occasional security, and aspires to be a chef and bartender. She also does side work as a tracker, since she has the ability to find nearly anything, not limited to rare items or missing people.

DESCRIPTION

“Hildegar...”

Zenobya woke with a start in a full sweat, reaching for her closest runeblade. Her eyes darted around the tent, the droplets turning to ice crystals as she regained her bearings and began to calm herself.

That's right, I'm in Olathia's camp.

She slowly rolled to her feet from her bedroll, wiping the ice from her forehead with her free hand. That was a name she hadn't heard in quite some time, one that brought nightmares of her former self.

I don't have time for this.

She compartmentalized the panic and quickly donned her black fur cloak - a gift she wore more for silencing the sound of her plate mail and blending into the darkness than for warmth, grabbed her other sword, and slipped silently from her tent. She crept over to the Captain's tent and crouched just outside the opening, listening to the sounds of steady breathing and a light snore.

Good, Wayland is with her.

She stood outside on high alert, reflecting on that single word for the next few hours; the low raspy voice, the thick Zulian accent. One of the night guard walked past a few times, casting her curious glances, but saying nothing as she nodded and he continued on his patrol. There were plenty of Light users here to completely obliterate one of her kind, but they regarded her with unusual respect as one of the Undead.

So the missing has shown his face.

She would have to forward this information to the Raven Guard as soon as she could slip away from her self-imposed bodyguard status.

As the first rays of dawn streaked across the sky, Zeno made her way back to her own tent to don her armor and prepare for the day. She had returned to her post outside the Captain's makeshift quarters before Olathia drew the door of the tent aside with a yawn and regarded her Left Hand with a startled expression.

Do you ever sleep? the paladin signed while rubbing sleep from her eyes.

“I'll sleep when I'm dead,” Zeno replied, quickly adding “again” as Olathia began signing a retort. The blonde huffed a sigh and threw up her hands as if to say “enough with the dead jokes” and Zeno chuckled, motioning to the campfire set up a short distance from the tents, a kettle already steaming suspended from a tripod above it. “Coffee, boss?” As Olathia turned back into the tent to gather a mug Zeno let the amusement slip from her face.

Troll, male, not Darkspear. This would be valuable information for pinpointing her friend's would-be killer.

mentions: @olathiawindgrave, @moth-caller

Nia gathered the last of her belongings, storing what few items she had away into various pouches attached to her belt, before making one last sweep of the room before heading out to the next mission. She opened the door and hung the sturdy canvas backpack on the handle – she'd meant to return it, but they got back late from the last one and she didn't want to disturb anyone – and stepped through the doorway, her foot nudging against a gift basket left at her door. She picked up the basket, catching whiffs of treats and strong alcohol, and she smiled although with a slight grimace. How am I going to repay this one? She had an inkling of what might be expected payment, more cooking practice in camp and drinking the nights away which was going to wreak havoc on Narok's senses. She chuckled and shook her head, grabbing the pack and carefully placing the basket inside before lightly slinging the pack over her shoulder. It wouldn't hurt to hang onto the borrowed sack for a few more days. She headed downstairs, drawn by the scent of the last hot meal she wouldn't have to figure out for herself in a while and the joy of heading out with her newfound friend.

mentions: @irielle-firine