A Struggle

"Mags...just call me Mags." She nodded to herself and chewed on her lip as she locked eyes with him. "Why are you here speaking to me, and where did you learn the common language?"

"I learned it from the Scryers, of course. You intrigued me, so I thought I would make a closer investigation. When I saw you closer, I stopped stealthing and made my presence known."

Having felt completely stupid at this point at not sensing him behind her, she looked down for a bit and back at him. "I see..."

"Ah, don't feel too bad. I specialize in subtlety. So what happened that you are taking your aggressions out on the fish?" He scoffed again and folded his arms at her.

She looked down at the fish again and grinned looking at him "I had a rough moment with my husband...I felt the need to..."

"Husband? You're married?" He scoffed louder and giggled with his mouth closed. "A rogue like you found a husband?"

"A rogue like me? What exactly is that supposed to mean?" Her angered flared again.

"Nothing at all, I just don't see humans as much the settling down type...especially rogues."

She softened. "Oh...well it shocked me too. I was not expecting a man like him in my life." She was talking about Lance in the kindest of ways though she was still worried about him.

He giggled again "It was nice meeting you, Mags. I'm sure our paths will cross again..." He smirked and started to back away.

"Nice to meet you, Bal. Hopefully, for your sake, we continue to meet on friendly ground." She smirked at him grabbed for her fishing pole on the ground, watching him nod and back into the shadows to disappear again. She shook her head and turned back to the water and cast her line out again.

Lance looked over the expanse of Nagrand, standing mounted on his gryphon at the top of the abandoned armory. He looked over the green landscapes and watched the paladin fight. He clenched his fists. It was a blood elf paladin. He wanted to hurt her. He wanted to kill her and vindicate the powers that her very existence defiled. A blood elf paladin. He could hardly bear to look away, to distract himself from what he saw. They all deserved to die. Every defiler of the Light deserved to be consumed by its righteous power. He shut his eyes, wincing.

He sighed as he guided his bird back into the air on a trip back to Shattrath. He knew who he sounded like...who his bitterness reminded him of. The Scarlet Crusade, in some cases, now fought alongside the Argent Dawn, but they were still very much, as far as he was concerned, mislead in their choice of methods.

He grunted softly, running his hand over the neck of his bird affectionately. Vergere had been his companion for quite some time, and he admired her ability to sense his emotions and act with haste and urgency...or with relaxed apathy...when his demeanor was such. He missed Magdalia. He missed holding her.

Though it had only been hours since he had seen her, it felt like years, like eons. He'd grown so accustomed to her presence and he loved how things were when she was around. He felt...responsible and valiant. In her absence, he now felt...superfluous. His presence was not immediately needed anywhere specific, and with much of Virtue already asleep, no one needed his assistance either.

He spotted a camp of ogres as Vergere flew lower. He...saw a cage. There was someone inside of it! He guided his bird down and let Vergere leave him. He tried to work at the lock, but it was no use.

"It requires a key, young paladin. You shall have to find the ogre that has it, and slay him." The prisoner was alive and awake, his voice hushed. "Please, free me, and my father shall reward you."

Lance shook his head, not desiring a ransom or reward...yet. Lance frowned and looked around, slowly replacing the armor, that he used for healing, with the armor he used for destruction. But as he was slipping on his helm, the young night elf called out to him, trying to warn him. But it was too late. Lancesalot did not even see the warlock casting, hear his words as he conjured his dark power. He didn't even feel the blow as the shadow bolt caught him off guard and knocked him unconscious, falling helplessly to the ground at the feet of the imprisoned elf. The night elf cried out in frustration as the ogre approached Lance's fallen form.

"We make stew from tasty human." The imp clapped his hands excitedly as its master slowly carried him back into camp...

The sounds of the Zangarmarsh filled Magdalia' s ears as she stood in the inn of Telredor. She was gazing at herself in a mirror, admiring the look of her now complete set of thick, Draenic armor. She rubbed her hands over the new leather, feeling it against her skin. She was so proud to finally fit into it in her 65th season. The armor was given to her when she reached the Outlands by her friend, Najila, as a present, and she just now was able to use the vest to complete the set and gain its great advantages. She felt very accomplished and smiled to herself at the fun she had the previous day. She had spent the day with Alexanderr, who returned from a long absence. She had surpassed him in skill and had to be more careful on how she sliced at the attackers as to not steal their attention away from him.

She and her warrior friend completed many of the tasks asked of them, in just one day. They worked well together, she could not deny it, and she loved the way that his skills did not surpass hers so that her experiences were worth while. Even those thoughts did not keep her from missing Lance. She looked in the mirror at herself and frowned, knowing it had been a whole day since she had seen her husband. It seemed like such a long expanse of time, and she knew that he would get a kick out of seeing her in her new armor. She missed him and her thoughts raced through the recent memories that they had made in the Terrokar Forest. She couldn't wait to begin her work in Nagrand, at his side. She knew she could do more with Alexanderr, but the ease that Lance made things...made her desire his company.

She looked around the inn, knowing the Draenei there didn't have anything good to drink...and alcohol. So, she made her way to the flight master and took flight to Shattrath to find solace in the bottom of a mug, once more, in the World End's Tavern.

After many hours at the tavern, and drowning her woes, she finally retires and decides to take a walk around the city to wear off the alcoholic effects on her body. She stumbles through Lower City and comes to rest near a deserted campfire. She gazes into the flames and can feel her eyes growing heavier and heavier. The sounds around her, from all the people, do not disturb because her energy is waning. She pulls off her cloak and sprawls it on the ground. She removes her shoulder guards and belt with her daggers and places them in her bags carefully. She yawns and stretches in her new leather armor and settles herself down lying on her side facing the fire with her bags sitting safely in front of her.

Before she could stop herself, she fell asleep, there on the ground, in Lower City. Her hair was strewn about as she rested her head on her arm, her other arm laying over her side with that hand on top of her bags. She did not notice a shadow approach her. A hand reached down quickly, and tapped at her foot - she didn't move. The hand touched her free elbow carefully - she didn't move. Then the hand slowly reached for the bag beneath her hand. In the quickest instant, her hand reached into the bag, grabbed one of her daggers, and was holding it to the throat of the owner of the sneaky hand. Her eyes were barely cracked open as she saw who is was..."Bal?"

Her hand with the dagger gripped it tighter as she slowly sat up and opened he eyes, now wide awake. Her free hand quickly attached her bags to her waist and grabbed for other dagger. She put the point of the other dagger to his side as he pulled his hand back, putting both his empty hands up showing no harm. "What do you want, Bal?"

"Shh, don't say my name so loud..." he looked around quickly and put both his hands on hers to try and pry them off of her. She did not comply. She felt his touch through her gloves and his grip was powerful.

"What do you want?" she asked, her eyes narrowing at him, her hands starting to press the daggers to his skin.

He flinched away from the daggers, but did not back away. "Put your weapons down and I'll tell you."

"Tell me and I'll put the weapons down."

He smirked at her, her face not seeing the humor and her lips tightening as she watched him carefully. "I wasn't going to steal anything...I swear."

She was not convinced and pressed the daggers harder into his skin - this time he backed away quickly, tossed some flash powder at the ground, and vanished as her eyes winced at the smoke. She heard a voice behind her and she spun around.

"There's no need for violence. I mean you no harm." His hands were open towards her as he spoke, sitting on the opposite side of the fire from her. She gripped her daggers and lowered them as she sat down glaring at him.

"Then why did you sneak up on me while I was sleeping!?" Her voice was very angry, and she huffed a breath at him, waiting for answer.

He chuckled under his breath "I didn't know it was...you. I just saw a human...asleep with bags sitting out in the open. If I knew it was you, I wouldn't have awoken you."

"And now that you know it's me? What do you plan to do?" She returned her daggers to her belt, only taking her eyes off of him for a moment. In that moment, he had scooted over next to her, and whispered into her ear, making her jump as he did so.

"I thought I would spend some time with you." She shivered as his breath met her ear and turned to look at him. She met his eyes, closer than she had ever seen them. She saw the deep pools of green gazing back at her, his face soft and with a look of interest. She watched his eyes move around the features of her face and when his eyes met hers again, she studied his face. She saw his hair laying so perfect around his face, the golden locks reflecting the light of the fire. She must have accidentally blushed with a smile because he smiled back at her.

"I guess...that wouldn't be so bad..." she said, as she noticed him settle, sitting as close to her as possible, his knee touching hers as they both faced the fire. She stared into the fire as she began talking with him, small talk at first, and then getting to know him more, releasing a few details about herself. They talked all night...even after the campfire went out.

Lance groaned to himself as he opened his eyes, slowly, holding his head and immediately shutting his eyes again as he felt consciousness sink into him. He grunted and looked over to see a young, night elf male. His shoulders slumped as he groaned loudly. "Oh no."

The night elf scoffed at him, shaking his head. Lance opened his eyes and looked over at him. They were imprisoned together, locked in a cage built for one, instead of two. He sighed and shook his head. "What in the world happened?"

He huffed and rolled his eyes. "It looks like more stupid human bravado to me. Why don't you ask your divine Light why it allowed you to be so careless and get captured?"

Lance was outraged. "Careless?! I come down here because I see someone in trouble and want to help them, and I'm the careless one?! You're the careless one. You were already locked up when I got here, or did you forget?" He narrowed his eyes at the elf and looked himself over. Everything was gone. His armor, his bags, his weapons, and...his clothes. He felt very exposed and wished desperately that they would have at least left him his tabard. He whined softly to himself and groaned loudly. He turned to the elf with an accusing finger.

"This is all your fault, you stupid night elf. If you'd warned me that the ogres were watching your cage, I could have been a little more aware of what the hell was going on, and maybe been a little prepared. Now I'm stuck here with an incompetent piece of bait." He glared at him. "Of course, you realize now, that BOTH of us are bait, thanks to you. You're not a druid too, are you?"

The night elf narrowed his eyes at Lance, growing angrier with each moment. He simply replied, "No, I am not a druid. What does that have to do with anything, human?"

Lance thinned his eyes. "My name is Lance, elf. I am a paladin of Light, of the Alliance, and of the Aldor. Don't call me human."

"Well, my name is Corki. Don't call me elf, Lance, and maybe I'll consider using your given name."

Lance sighed and shut his eyes. "I'm sorry. I just...I can't believe I got trapped in here with you. Unbelievable."

"Well, it's better than being alone."

Lance held up a finger, growing alert and silencing the elf. He turned to look around. He had heard something...heard footsteps. He saw the same Blood Elf paladin that he'd observed earlier. She was slaying ogres and bringing her wrath towards them. He grunted and shut his eyes tightly. The idea, his only apparent solution, made him feel sick...

Magdalia sat straight up with a jolt as she noticed it was daylight outside. Her head whipped around from side to side looking at her surroundings. She saw the fire burned to ash beside her and she looked down at her waist, feeling her belt, and reassured herself that all her bags were still there. She looked down and saw Bal with his head in her lap. She figured he must have fallen asleep with his head on her stomach since they'd gotten comfortable while they were talking. She looked down at him and her eyes soften as they followed his golden locks from the top of his forehead and over his shoulder. His features were so pleasing to the eye and she raised a hesitant hand to brush a strand out of his face very carefully, trying not to wake him.

He breathed in deeply as she brushed the strand back and his head turned to look up at her. He smiled, "Good morning..." he blinked in the sunlight. She smiled back at him, "Good morning indeed." She had spent the night talking with a blood elf about everything. They talked about being a rogue and the fun it was and the difficulties it gave, about their heritage and why they chose the allegiance they did...he chose Scryer for the epic dagger they had available for their most trusted. They talked all night next to that fire, and she felt herself growing closer and closer to him...she trusted him, wholeheartedly. She bit her lip as this thought crossed her mind.

He chuckled as his eyes looked around without moving his head out of her shadow "I bet your husband would love to find us like this." Her eyes widened and she whipped her head around again, her hair flying around as she did. "Relax...I'm sure he's preoccupied...besides...you wouldn't keep secrets from him...you'll probably tell him all about me when you see him next." She bit her lip harder, looking deeply into his eyes, her eyes wincing slightly. She thought about Lance's face, his feelings, what he would think the moment she mentioned that she had even talked to a blood elf. He would never understand and she knew it. She had to keep this a secret. She looked at him very seriously, her hand rubbing the back of her neck nervously.

"N-No...No Bal.. I can't tell him...he can never, EVER find out about this. Do you understand? We can't be seen together by anyone that could get back to him, we can't..." He raised his finger to her lips and sat up and looked into her eyes his face just inches from hers.

"It's our little secret..." He grinned at her and gathered his belongings, standing up, taking her hand in his to helped her to her feet; she complied. "I'll find you again...soon." He smiled brighter and looked around, walking off, whistling for his mount, and road off, not looking back.

She looked down and gathered her belongings, composing herself, and readjusting her armor accordingly. She smiled to herself as she thought about meeting him again and shook her head, shaking the smile from her face, and checked to see if she was being watched, walking off in the opposite direction toward the Aldor Rise.

Lance looked at the night elf and glared. "This is your fault," he whispered angrily, so angry that he felt like he could tear him limb from limb. He turned to the paladin, to the Blood Elf paladin. He felt a physical sensation, a negative feedback from his entire body from the agony his humiliation was causing him.

"Pssst. Hey, you, over here."

She arched an eye brow at him as she stepped over the fallen ogre. Lance had no idea if she knew common, but he almost secretly hoped she did not. He motioned for her to come closer. The paladin looked around cautiously and approached their cage. She smiled, a prideful, grateful, infuriating smile. She crouched down to peer into the cage. She pouted and teased, "Aw, did the siwwy human and his night elf lover get caught being naughty by duh wittle ogres?" Lance winced, struggling to rein in the unpleasant physical, and agonizingly humiliating, sensations and feelings that were now ripping through his body and mind. She shook her head. "Tch tch tch, how terribly inconvenient for the both of you to be captured and imprisoned together like the Alliance lemmings that you are."

Lance's hands clenched into fists. Not only had she indicated that...that creature and him...were romantically involved - in a sexual way, of all implications - and baby-talked him...but she had even had the nerve, the arrogance, to slander the Alliance to his face.

"You...You..." He growled, grunting for a long moment as he seethed. "Why don't you let us out of our pen and allow me to properly exhibit the ineptitudes of the Alliance and the Light that you have so kindly referenced?"

Her smile grew and she seemed to beam with pride and glee. "But siwwy paladin, I never said anything about your inept, corrupted, foul, and weak, silly, Alliance religion. I was merely making an observation of how awful your situation is. Good thing I found you, otherwise, this little shred of happiness may have been absent in the lovely day I was already having." She winked at him.

Lance felt like a volcano, trying to hold in his emotions, trying not to act out, not to give in to her trivial provocations and her apparent desire to conjure his unleashed rage. He struggled to speak, to keep his voice calm, to contain his fury. "Pl-e-a-se...paladin, if you...free us...I promise to reward you...to give you every cent that I have..."

She wrinkled forehead at him. "But, you are naked. You have no possessions, no wealth, which is the reason I'm going to leave you with your dark-skinned friend to...continue...whatever it is you were doing when you were caught." Her nostrils flared a little as she portrayed her disgust for such things.

Lance shut his eyes, squinting them hard and shut. He looked up at her, desperate as he realized they would again be left alone...together...in this infuriating prison. "But, but my bank! My vault. I have a...things, there. You can have them, all of them, if you JUST release us. Please..." He felt sick, nauseous. He was grateful he had not decided to snack on anything as it might have decided to migrate out of his stomach. "Surely, surely a blood elf, an intelligent being-" He winced, as though he was feeling pain, as though his words were hurting him "-like yourself, understands the monetary values and possessions a paladin of my rank and power would possess. Plus, I know where the ogres have hidden my belongings! You can have everything, have it all! Just, please, free us?"

She chewed on this a long moment and sighed, shutting her eyes and pulling out her sword. Lance cursed himself. A sword. He should have tried a sword to free them. But, she was holding the blade down, holding the hilt hand over hand with the blade of her sword...down. He felt the blood leave his face and felt his organs lurch as he froze in horror. He held up his hands, pleading. "No! No! Don't...stop! You are a paladin! Surely things in your order prohibit this kind of dishonorable action!" But it was too late, he saw the sword falling down, saw its course, its tip lined up with the gap between the bars...directly over him and Corki. But right as she was about to stab down, to strike, she stumbled back, and he looked up to see a blade protruding from her abdomen.