#jencir

Nodding in passing to the guard Jen made his way toward the vacant playground, lowering himself into one of the swings. The sea was gentle, the dim light serene upon its surface. Blues, tangerine, indigo, violet. Truly, such beauty, he mused. Lost in thought, he nearly missed the approach of another. 

“Ah, hello,” Jencir intoned quietly, head bowing in respect.

“Already?” the other asked, giving him a quizzical appraisal.

“Yes, I’ve been...distracted. The one you produced last time is no longer functioning at full capacity. I’m afraid it seems to have timed out with distance.”

“Ah, a shame. That was a good one, eh?” the other sighed, taking a seat in the adjacent swing. “Good, but short-lived. You know, you are my best customer now. Not much business in forgery these days.”

Dipping his head respectfully, Jen responded politely. “I respect your craft. Your skill is impeccable, as well as invaluable.”

The Forger laughed. “Heh, so you say. Tell that to my vault. It was once overflowing with arcwine. Now, only a few rare vintages grace its cool interior.”

Jen smirked. “Well. I’d like a tasting.” Eyes met, a knowing glance. This wasn’t about wine.

The Forger nodded, producing a notepad. “Very well. Is this for a social or formal event?”

“Social.” The swing's chain groaned as the nightborne halted the gentle swaying motion.

“Mhm. Not a problem." He scribbled something. "And will you need one for day, or night?"

“One for day, and one for night.”

The Forger’s chestnut brow quirked. “Interesting. Busy! I like it. It’s nice seeing you…involved again,” he speculated.

Jen rolled a shoulder. “Mmm. Can you do a rush order? I won’t be here long. I made a promise to be back within a fortnight.”

“Yes, of course,” the other replied, businesslike, taking a few more notes as he rose to start working.

“Oh, and Amis? Make sure they last longer this time. I will need multiple uses for multiple trips. And I need access to a projector. One that’s not registered.” Pushing down his hood, Jen offered a small smile. The setting sun glinted off the facial plating, highlighting the set of his jaw.

Pausing, the Forger pursed his lips, nodding politely in the affirmative before sketching an artful bow. “Your wish is my command, Fifth Arcanist.” Continuing into his workshop, Amis dutifully ignored the derisive snort which followed his departure with typical aplomb.

After quick thanks given to Fio and ducking out of the magical tent with grimly determined expressions, Tin and Seven split up, gathering up what they needed for the trek into the city. Tinnaire wished she could gather a little more rest, but that was not on the table for now. Jen had been gone far too long already and Orgrimmar was still cleaning up from the massive wave of zombies at the gates from the day prior.

Tin used her teeth to pull the ties of the worry stone bracelet tight again. There was never enough time to be comfortable. More than just her body ached. Her mana still hummed through her, making her nerves cry in time with her heartbeat.  Battles like yesterday evening always did that. She had been blessed with prodigious regeneration and well-plumbed wells of mana, but it still throbbed when she’d spent so much, so fast, and kept it up for hours. She felt naked, going into a potentially dangerous situation without her full reserves. She would be glad of Seven’s company, once again.

~~~

Talon had been able to get them a brief security report and advised them on a route. The pair set out while the rest of the mercenary group was still recovering from the long-fought battle of the night before. Up in the tower, amidst the morning light, the group slept, or ate, or found fellowship around the coffee pots and morning cook fires.

Tinnare glanced at Seven as they reached the ground. He was serious, but still lively and he moved with ease. The barricades behind them at the gate were heavy and were holding. It was something good to hold on to. Heartening. The fight may have cost Jencir hours, but many civilian lives had most certainly been saved. Tin stepped carefully through the quiet, evacuated street in the Valley of Spirits. A few people moved furtively, usually in small groups, all armed. They came upon a shambling troll woman who tumbled down the last step of one of the huts on the boardwalk. She finished the conversion before their eyes, lurching back up with clots of bloody tissue dribbling from her lips and light of life drained from her eyes. They could see where she’d been bitten across the back of her calf. Running away, no doubt. They ended her misery respectfully and Tinnaire did not allow herself to think that the woman’s soul was now lost forever. Her resolve hardened and her mind focused on the task at hand.

Deeper into the city they pushed, lucky to stay on the back paths with less traffic. Many buildings were boarded up, or curtained doors were left to flap open in the heated breeze of the Durotar desert. They heard things that disturbed her as they closed in on their targeted borough of the Cleft of Shadows. Moans that echoed up and out of the caverns below Orgrimmar. They saw more zombies in all states: the flagging, days older infected that had been trapped in pockets of buildings and newer, more recently turned bodies. They took out the ones they could safely, but did not push out of their way--they weren’t here on that detail, they needed to conserve resources. Who knew what they’d find closer to Jencir’s location?

An Argent camp--really just a few exhausted looking members and one woman sleeping with their feet hanging out of the little tent, blood on her robes--gave them a careful report of where they were heading. It wasn’t good down in the Cleft. Like a wound left to fester under a scab, the caverns below the city had been overrun. They passed one of the heavy wooden mailboxes and Tin frowned a little herself. Jencir had gone to quickly write an inquiry to Suramar. Just gone to find a courier or one of the mail attendants. Orgrimmar had been dangerous, but not overrun, at that time, or so she’d thought. It should have been more danger in the unexpected chaos than in sheer numbers of the enemy. What had happened to Jen?

Her questions and speculation would have to wait. Answers come later. Rescue first.

They made a first, sneaking approach down the tunnel. Eerily, the noises of restless undead echoed up around them, confusing their senses. Tinnaire pursed her lips and her brows drew down, this might have been harder than she expected.

~~~

Seven nodded to her and indicated the building was empty. She ducked inside, careful not to draw the attention of the ghoul that was shuffling away up a ramp. They had searched quickly, but not found him. Tinnaire took a moment to rest against the wall, breathing quiet but the exhaustion of constant adrenaline creeping up, as if behind a curtain. Seven peered out one of the windows, looking for another likely place to tackle next. Tinnaire closed her eyes. She had not wanted to take this next step. But when you are fighting, you use every advantage.

She looked at Seven and quietly let him know her plan. He already knew, so it was no revelation. He nodded acceptance, practically minded.

It would only be temporary, but Tinnaire swallowed just the same. She had avoided this sort of magic for a few years. In a crisis, you have to get through the present to worry about the future. Tinnaire made herself some space, pitched her voice not to carry much beyond their temporary shelter, and began the ritual.

~~~

The felhound found him. Of course it did. Gleefully, the creature had scuttled toward a pile of broken crates and pallets. It had made a rough hiding place, but it was enough. Tinnaire was not quick enough with the dismissal spell. Jencir, wild-eyed and pallid burst forth with a literal hiss, first toward the demon, then toward its mistress. His bow present but he did not reach for it, instead fevered eyes narrowed and dimmed, tight and defensive.

Tinnaire was so startled by his appearance that she froze. Everything went quiet. Someone would move, and then time would start again. He was going to fight. Or take flight. She wasn’t sure. She had not come here to fight Jencir!

The decision was made and the nightborne, lithe and powerful began a cat-like leap toward her, hands extended as if they were claws. Tin took an involuntary step backward, starting to shout. Before the noise fully formed there was a solid sounding thunk. The look on Jen’s face  might have been comical--a sudden coming back to himself, shocked, and confused--before his eyes rolled up and he fell bonelessly to the ground.

Tinn looked back up from the ground, to meet Seven’s eyes. He gave her a shrug and a little grin as he flipped his dagger back around the correct way. Tinnaire winced a little, not envying the goose egg Jen was sure to be getting even now. She could not argue the effectiveness though. They swept down to shoulder him up.

~~~

The blonde woman who had been sleeping with the Argents was awake when the pair emerged from the Cleft. She watched with wide and haunted eyes as the healer from the Argents was roused from his sleep. The Forsaken knight rushed to take the burden of Jencir’s limp form, easing him down to the red dirt. Seven and Tin were thankful for the moment to rest. Tin was too tired, too drained, to do anything but watch mutely as the tauren healer cast over Jen. The druid gravely implored them to find a more refreshed Light-based healer who could summon up the reserves to cleanse him. Who knew how long it had been for Jen? The Argents had a hippogryph and they agreed to fly Jen up to the watchtower. Surely Valarin or Sylrissa would be there to cleanse him. Surely.

Was it already too late? Was his soul damned to undeath or the dark rumors that had been confirmed by Lynesse? No. Surely the Argents would have recognized if he was already beyond saving. Surely. Resources were too precious to spend on the lost.

Tin watched the hippogryph take off and wing toward what would be Jen’s hope. She leaned back on Seven and sighed, eyes closing.  “Thank you.”

Not even she could have said exactly where the gratitude was aimed, but she gave a tired smile to the very blue sky.