#simah

She grunted as she heard the snap and felt the pain of her lower leg breaking under the blow, her greaves unable to stop the violent force. "Time to die, heathen!" the man shouted, raising the hammer again, before a shock of lightning struck him, followed by several hundred pounds of armored troll.

"Get your hands off the girl!" Ghorren roared as he wrestled with the man, wrenching at the hammer and pushing him back, as Simah scrambled up to Lorellai's side.

"That looks nasty, this'll help!" the vulpera woman said as she smiled and passed a potion to her, before turning to the wrestling men and letting sparks arc across her own pauldrons again. Ghorren was slowly but surely overpowering the arathi, equal in fighting experience but disadvantaged in height and weight compared to the Zandalari. Simah scrambled up Ghorren's back, coming to stand on his shoulders, and looked the cultist in the eye, grinning as she unleashed a lightning bolt right into his face. The man's scream turned to a gurgle as Ghorren brought his knee up into the cultist's groin, wrenching away the hammer, and then bringing it down on him, ending the struggle.

"Is she safe to move?" Ghorren asked, scanning the battlefield. The Sureki loyalists were being pushed back, which had made the cultist's sudden turn on them all the more effective, taking advantage of the trio's moment of breath catching. The other two lay dead, one with gunshot and lightning burns, the other crushed in Stroganoff's mouth.

"Leg's a clean break, but she's not goin' anywhere fast on her own, better to carry her, boss!" Simah declared, quickly attaching a splint to Lorellai's leg to hold it in place for their return to camp.

"Thanks you two, sorry I didn't catch them turnin' sooner." Lorellai grunted as Ghorren lifted her, gently like he had his children, holding her injured leg steady against him.

"They caught us all unawares. What matters is we're all still breathing. Good job shooting the cleric before she could cast, by the by."

"Yeah, well, you know, all that training on target acquisition has to count for something. I feel sleepy."

Simah appeared in her vision, once again riding on Ghorren's shoulder. "That's fine, there's a little bit of sedative in that potion, helps with the pain, by the time you're out of it we'll have that leg mended up like new!"

As the sun rose over the golden city, the city awoke from the cool night to meet the morning with business aplenty, to be done before the heat rose to its peak. It was hours later when Ghorren finally emerged from his room, yawning and scratching as he wandered down to the common room to find some food. It had become his ritual to sleep and wake whenever he pleased; his daughters were grown, and the gold he'd brought home from the dragon isles still filled the family coffers, so he felt no need to run here and there. What was not part of that ritual was seeing both his daughters, and his sister-in-law, already sitting at the table, enjoying an early lunch. "Not running the restaurant today, sister?"

Ulabi lifted her head. "No, today I decided to take a page from your book and lay about doing nothing all day. Turat has been wanting to prove himself, after all."

Ghorren grinned at the barb. "Glad to see I can be a teacher to the woman who knows everything. Good morning Qirra!" he declared, kissing his youngest on the head as she hugged him with one arm, the other continuing to sketch. He looked and saw her drawing of a ship crashing through waves. "Been spending time down at the harbor I see. And Anwé! How glad I am to see you! Freed from your priestly duties are you?"

His elder daughter eyed him, her expression controlled, further hidden by the skull paint she wore as a priestess of Bwonsamdi. "For the day. The head of the temple has declared that all of us must spend at least one day a week among the people, to rest and connect, and remind ourselves of what it means to be alive." Her lips pursed as she continued. "Which, for some, seems to be getting fat and lazy."

Ghorren paused, and sighed. They meant well. "I am doing -fine-. Have I not -earned- my rest, with my many victories in the dragon isles? Surely it is not wicked to enjoy the fruits of my labors?"

"Of course not, father." Anwé replied. "But surely you would not want to meet your end in bed and arrive before mother with that belly hanging out."

"Much less find a new mate when all you do is sleep and eat," Ulabi muttered.

Ghorren narrowed his eyes. It wasn't unusual for her to challenge him, but he was feeling particularly disrespected this morning. Before he could respond though, the curtain covering the door flapped open as a furry shadow zipped through the kitchen, before climbing up and over Ghorren to sit on his shoulder. "Morning boss!" Simah declared, smacking the back of his head with her tail and grinning her sharp-toothed grin. "I got a surprise for you! Oh! Hello girls! And greetings to you Ulabi, apologies for interrupting."

Ulabi's expression warmed. "Always happy to have you at our table, Simah. I'll get you a plate."

"And one for me, hm?" Ghorren said, leaning his non-vulpera supporting arm on the table.

"Oh very well, if only to not embarrass you in front of your work partner." Ulabi shot back, rising and heading to the counter.

"Thanks Ulabi! Anyway, boss, take a look at -this-!" Simah declared, producing a scroll and unfolding it on the table in front of Ghorren. It was a post from the public board, seeking skilled warriors to join the exploration of Khaz Algar, and support the military against the so-called Harbinger. "What do you think? The pay's pretty solid, and from what I hear from our friends across the sea, there's a lot of treasure to be had."

Anwé leaned in. "I've heard of this. They say this enemy destroyed Dalaran, and means the same for the other great cities. A worthy foe, the loa will look kindly on those who oppose her.

Qirra looked up from her drawing. "Oh, I meant to tell you sooner papa, but I've been accepted into the Suramar Academy of Fine Arts for a semester! It's one of the best art schools in the world!" she declared, before looking unsure, gazing up at him as she once did when she was little. "But it's also very expensive. Do you think we can manage it?"

Ghorren looked back and forth, meeting the gaze of the women in the room. The women who were conspiring against him. He did what he always did in a tough situation, he ran the odds. And there was really only one way out.

"I want you all to know you aren't fooling anyone. I know you are playing me," He declared, sitting back and crossing his arms. Qirra's face fell, and a moment of uncertainty crossed Anwé's face.

"But," he continued, "but you are also right. I could use some new surroundings and challenges, lest your mother return from de other side to tan my hide. Simah! Get down to the docks and book us passage, we leave tonight!"

"Already on it boss!" Simah declared, hopping on the table and saluting, before turning and receiving her breakfast, already packed in a bag to go.

"So, a mercenary comes to slay me? How typical of the vaunted forces of order to send someone expendable to do their dirty work." The fugitive's voice echoed through the cave, seeming to come from everywhere at once. Ghorren spun once, and again, seeking to minimize his blind spots, mindful of the precious and fragile weapon on his back.

"If you surrender, I can promise you fair and kind treatment on the journey back to the base. The magistrate in charge is Nightborne, very good at taking the long view. It's your best chance to see another sunrise." Ghorren called out, his own voice echoing. It didn't work often, but he wasn't about to not at least try to end things the easy way.

"Surrender? To the forces of stagnation? Never. Better to die and join the Gods in the twisting chaos than to permit myself to be bound by you!" Ghorren barely saw the blast in time, raising his blade and infusing it with light to hold back the crackling bolts of shadow magic wielded by his prey. The shadows flowed into the orcish woman's arms and into the magical blasts as she cackled. He could see twisted violet runs of magic, carved into her very flesh, glowing with power as she assaulted him. "You are strong, mercenary!" she cackled, forcing Ghorren back with her magic. "You may be all the sacrifice I need, far better than those pathetic villagers!"

"So you'd say I have your attention then?" he yelled, grunting in pain from the strain, glad at least that the weight on his back had shifted.

The fugitive's eyebrow raised. "Yes, why?"

"Because it's funnier when you don't see the next part coming. LIGHT HER UP, SIMAH!" Ghorren shouted, as his partner jumped out from behind a boulder, her fine gray fur frizzing as she called forth the lightning, whooping in joy as she lit up the entire cavern by unleashing a bolt of deadly static right at the fugitive. The blast crashed into the orc, causing her to shriek in pain, losing her spell. As the shadowy bolts faded, Ghorren surged forward, swinging his blade down, slicing off the caster's hands in one brutally efficient swing. The orc screamed in pain as her dark blood stained the stone, looking up just in time to see the pommel of Ghorren's greatsword come smashing down on her face, knocking her out cold.

Ghorren and Simah emerged not long after, the still breathing fugitive tied and unconcious over the troll's shoulder, her arm stumps bandaged and infused with healing waters to ensure she didn't bleed out. Simah sat on his other shoulder, filling out the document they would soon hand to the magistrate to finish out the contract. "Solid work as always, boss!" the vulpera declared as she turned to him with a sharp-toothed grin, giving him an affectionate, tiny noogie.

"Says the one who got carried almost the entire way. You're lucky this backpack gambit of yours keeps working, you're not -that- light, little friend." Ghorren replied, his smile proving the lie to his admonishments. "You gonna hop down and use your own legs for once?"