No Escape ((IC))

World’s End Tavern: Role-play and Fan Fiction
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Dalfein was brought back to reality, by the angry speech of a Sin'dorei, who had apparently been holding in this outburst for awhile. Stretching, and giving another mock yawn he spoke to the woman, " I understand your anger miss, but there is no use shouting at the poor captain, that won't get you your answers. Why not take a lesson from those over by the fire, and get comfortable, we will most likely be here for a little while. We were all captured, and I imagine the majority of us are angry at the captain, and his mate, but giving into your anger isn't going to help anyone." He felt a dark prescence in the pit with them, it didn't take him long to find it's source, was a demon that another Blood Elf seemed to have conjured. It looked like the little imps arrival had frightened the poor priestess, stretching again he spoke to the warlock. "Would you mind putting your little toy away, the most he could be used for is a ragdoll, besides your little show is frightening the poor young priestess. I think she has had enough scares for one day, we should all just calm down, and think of a way off this island, unless of course anyone here wants to be a slave, if that's the case then do what you want."

The Death Knight sighed, few of them seemed capable of thinking ratoinally, the others were either firghtened, or too angry to think clearly, Dalfein was neither. He knew their torture techniques were most likely different for their undead guests, but he was sure it was nothing he couldn't handle, he had a high pain tolerance, even when it came to the Light. He had given thought to getting out of this pit if for nothing else than to satiate his rising bloodlust, Sam's meditation techniques would only keep it at bay for so long, maybe an extra day at the most. He hoped a guard would be foolish enough to come down here, even a little blood was enough to stave off his blood rage for a time, breaking someone's nose would be more than enough for him. Of course he couldn't count on that possibility actually happening.
Sorsim and Hailla looked on with a faint amount of amusement as their former captor was double-crossed and thrown in the Pit with the rest of them.

“Payback is a b!tch, huh?” O’Keere asked as the two watched Adrian laugh at the captain and his first mate. The pair walked over to Dristis and stood, watching the other prisoners acclimate to their situation.

“Quite.” Sorsim chuckled back. The hooded human glanced over at Dristis. “I have to say that you appear to be the much more stable one in this relationship. So,” he continued, looking back over at Hailla. “Any ideas?”

“Well, we could always try to break out of here. If I could my hands back on 46502, everyone in this compound would be dead in an instant. Of course, there’s also that slavecatcher they mentioned.”

“Twitching and screaming…” Sorsim mused. “Still, at least it doesn’t sound boring.” Hailla grinned mischievously.

“Actually, the screaming sounds pretty fun… if you get my drift.” An elbow jabbed the Servant in his ribs a few times.

“Such conduct is unbecoming of two members of the same chain of command.” Sorsim airily cited. “We are dedicated members of a single group, and as such, we should endeavor to maintain professionalism between ourselves at all times.” Hailla snorted with amusement and the two went back to watching the other prisoners. After having the opportunity to observe her for a few minutes, O’Keere rolled her eyes to the heavens at the spectacle of Maj.

“Great. Some sniveling, wet-nosed kid that can’t be more than fourteen at most. Just what we need. How on Azeroth does someone like that get sold into slavery, anyway?” Sorsim coughed behind a gloved fist and cleared his throat.

“Actually, I’d guess she’s more like fifteen or sixteen. And weren’t you like that when you were sixteen?”

“By time I was sixteen,” the lieutenant archly shot back. “I had already been on three deployments, fought in two major actions, fought in dozens of minor actions, been wounded once and promoted twice. So no, I was nothing like that. And another thing,” she continued, gesturing at the warlock and mage. “Why can’t you use some of your magic? Consume the guards with fire from your eyes or lighting from your @rse, or something like that.”

“Ah… as to that. I simply didn’t think of trying it.” Sorsim raised a gloved hand to about chest level and channeled some of his energy. Crimson electricity sparked and played among the fist for a few moments before winking out. “I guess that they removed the feedback systems. Anyway, I’d be willing to bet that most of these people have never seen a Servant before, and I’d like to avoid making an unnecessary ruckus. Also,” he looked at Hailla with an element of worry in his eyes. “Are you feeling okay? You’re normally a lot more… chipper than this.” Hailla rubbed her face with her hands and took a deep breath.

“Yeah, it’s just been a long day, I have a headache, and I haven’t had any coffee. I’ll be fine once I get some sleep.” She gave a somewhat forced smile and stretched her arms out. She started to say something else when a pair of Blood Elves started to get physical with the captain. “Heads up, we might have some entertainment in this inn after all.” The two Cabal members walked over to the group of four and took up positions a few feet away. Hailla interlocked her hands behind her back and leaned forward with anticipation, settling on the balls of her toes and preparing to spring into action at a moment’s notice. Sorsim, for his part, rested his hands in the sleeves of his cloak and prepared to summon lighting if either party proved less than friendly. Underneath his concealing robes, electricity danced and arced, and brief flashes were visible from within his hood.
Dristis looked to the man of the pair they had been talking to earlier. He shrugged and give Adrian a small nudge to get off his shoulder. "Stable? I guess that could be the word. A lot of the joy and chipperness sort of dissipated the day that I was executed in front of legions of undead by some Death Knight trying to earn his salt." he explained, pointing to the thick scar going across his throat. "Adrian has just always been a carefree, happy-go-lucky individual. The alcohol helps as well. But once it's go time, he's cold, calculated, meticulous, surgical. You name it. He's the best marksman I've had the pleasure to meet." he finished. He put his hand on the back of his brother's neck and squeezed a bit.

Adrian sarcastically played bashful, "Aww, you're such a sweetie. I'd kiss your cheek but it's all cold and clammy." he joked and gave a fake little punch to his brother's chin. He surveyed the area again, looking for weak points in the pit or cage.

Dristis noticed that magic was usable again. A fire was started and a demon summoned. He was indifferent. He's summoned worse. The man, Sorsim he recalled, had some sort of electricity or lightning ability. Dristis outstretched his arm, a jagged and menacing blade of ice formed, covering his elbow and forearm and extending several feet past his hand. "Yes. This would do fine until I get my runeblade back." he said quietly. The blade of ice began to change colors slightly, splotches of red, purple and green filling the ice. Infected with diseases and other nefarious contagions that were in his disposal. He looked around at the guards, who were holding their weapons tightly while watching him. He shook his head and the ice dissipated.

"As for getting out of here, the gate should be no problem. It seems to be the weakest part of the structure, and with enough force, would break open easily. I would just rather not see what they're going to do to try and break us. Myself and fellow death knights probably have a special regimen to get broken." he looked around. His anger and bloodlust was growing. He looked Adrian in the eyes, a look he had given him before. Adrian knew what was happening, and nodded solemnly. He kept his distance a few feet. It pained him, but it was for the best.
The Forsaken clenched her teeth, the habit from her human life, helping to keep her mouth shut. They all waited there, everyone acting as if this was some sort of tea party and getting to know each other. Ha! Forming friends here? It could help, but why would she ever trust her undead life with a member of the Alliance? Look how that turned out.

The ship shifted harshly, Annalin losing a bit of her footing, using the chain to catch herself a bit. She gazed over at the island that was now too close, waiting for something to happen. At last, they were to be released off the boat, and to where, nobody knew. The chains clinked as they walked in their line, off the plank, and onto the beach. Cloaked figures stood in front of them, obviously the people they were being traded off to.

Annalin furrowed her brows in anger, staring at them straight in their faces. Or what she could make out of them at least. A man stepped forward, inspecting a few, showing wide interest in others. He paid her no attention, and Annalin was slightly relieved. No interest shown could possibly mean she could get the hell off this strange island. She'd swim back to Gagdetzan if she had to.

Before anybody could speak up, the man showed them a tour of the island, explaining what -in vague detail- was happening here. If only Annalin's hearing was a bit better and he was closer. Her vision was wonderful though, and she let her eyes wander, taking in whatever she could. Hard labor being done, people hauling stone and wood, tiny living quarters. It all seemed like a terrible place to be. And sure enough, they were stuck here, all of them, until they could think up something clever to get them out.

A shout from their original captor, the captain of the ship, caught Annalin's attention. In a matter of minutes, he and his second in command were in the back of the line, chained up and connected to them all. As surprising as it was, Annalin couldn't help but snicker. Karma really did get back at people.

They were all led and thrown into a dirty, rotten place, named "The Pit". What a witty name..., Annaling thought, barely catching herself. Luckily she had landed on her mechanical hand, but her elbow felt a jolt of pain from the landing. All were released from their shackles, and with that knowledge, Annalin sat in her place for a little, wiggling her neck around and cracking the joints, all while observing her fellow prisoners.

A crazy man laughing, a young girl frightened to death, elves helping her, an elf starting some demonic ritual, elves yelling at the captain, and others minding their own business. Annalin raised what was left of her brow, listening to what the huntress was yelling at the captain. She stood, hearing the rest of her body cracking along as she made her way towards the scolding Sin'dorei and her companion.

Annalin tended to hate when other people yelled, when other people's anger got in their way of clear thinking -what a hypocrite she was-, but this woman had a right to! They were all slaves, or going to be, all captive on some uncharted island and no idea what else was about to happen to them. So Annalin crossed her arms, cocked her head to the side, and smirked over at the elf's friend, another elf.

"Well... this is quite an interesting predicament, isn't it? Do you and your friend have any plans besides interrogating the captain?" Annalin asked, eyeing the former captain and the woman next to him.
Xoolloon saw the little fire and was actually thinking of going over there. *My fingers are about frozen off, literally. Maybe now would be a good time to try to stop being so anti-social.

So he sat with his back cracking all the while from their stiffness and walked over to the fire. He chose a secluded place that people were not sitting at and sat down to warm up his fingers, hoping they already weren't about to fall off. Then he spoke, "What is your name?", he asked as he was looking at the Blood Elf sitting next to the frightened priestesses, whom seemed even more frightened since he had sat down.
Erani averted her attention from the demon and watched from a distance as the elf began yelling at the captain. While she herself did not particularly like him, she would make no move to confront him herself, nor would she help him if the others decided to beat him to a bloody pulp. Whatever he got after this, he deserved, but she would have no part in it. She would much rather save her energy for their escape. As the fire helped ease her chills, her eyelids began to grow heavier.Erani was just beginning to nod off when the death knight joined them. She kept a wary eye on him as he asked for the blood elf's name. It probably was not safe enough to sleep, just yet.
As John stepped out onto the deck, he immediately looked down to the deck. The light of day burned his eyes after they've been marinating in darkness for so long. He reached for his hood, but was quickly reminded that he was chained to the person in front of him. With a sigh, he continued stood out on the deck, wondering where he was going to end up once they got off of this damned ship. While John was really uncertain of how things would end up, he showed no fear, no panic, nothing. He did this plotting. Plotting his way out, plotting his next move. It really kept his emotions hidden. And he was good at it for the most part, so long as he had options up.

"Right now, I need some friends… the more the merrier…" He said quietly before he was interrupted by what seems to have been something like an earthquake. After a quick investigation of looking forward, he realized that the boat had landed on the strand, trapped. John quickly turned to the captain, smiling at his misfortune. "Looks like you got your kumuppins." John said loud enough, intending for the captain to hear, but the most he got was a back hand to the face. "A simple 'zip it" would have done…" He complained before returning to his search for allies.

He turned to the draenei who he had told his story with down below but was thoroughly ignored by her. Not that he cared much anymore. She seemed feisty enough, that being revealed after trying to kick one of the guards for taking her pets away. He looked down to the fox that followed her, wondering why it hasn't been taken away. Maybe it didn't pose as much of a threat? Maybe it escaped? He smiled at it before looking forward, not looking her in the eyes. "Clever little thing you have there if he managed to get to you without any binds." He turned to the female draenei with a friendly smirk and a nod. "I like foxes. The stories I was told as a child always portrayed them as cunning and clever. Underappreciated traits, if you ask me." He chuckled weakly. He had forgotten how hungry he was until now. Maybe it was the fresh air.

"I'm John, by the way. Mage and… other sorts." He said in his proper Gilnean accent. Unlike most Gilneans, he didn't use much slang. Perhaps due to his education. He continued. "Anyways… I'm just as boggled as you are when it comes to where we are and why, but if we're chained up and on a ship, my guess is we're free labor." He paused, watching a guard pass by him, giving him a polite, yet mocking nod before returning to the woman. "Alright, time for the point… we go on this island and we stick together and face what ever they give us. Better our odds at two than alone, right?" He smirked at her again before looking forward with a stoic look, giving her some time to think. He wasn't sure if she'd agree or not, but he'd certainly think of her as foolish if she intended on rolling alone. "So… do I have a partner in crime?"

Whether or not the woman had agreed to get through this thing together, they were eventually all led off of the ship and onto the shore. Waiting there were a row of cloaked men, all hiding their faces. One of them stepped up to the captain and John quickly assumed that he was the leader… or at least in charge of slave handling. Which ever, the man definitely gave John a bad vibe. And whatever he was saying to the captain, didn't sound so good when all he could make out was "master" and "slaves".

John decided to whistle a small tune while they waited, trying to seem like the optimist… or at least get on some ones nerves. He looked around, trying to eye out a few more potential allies for the oncoming trouble. He spotted out a large plated orc, standing not to far away from him on the chain of soon to be slaves. His leg seemed wounded, but that's nothing that can't be fixed He turned to the orc and began to make attempts to grab his attention. "Oi, orc. Right here…" Whether or not he heard him, or even decided to acknowledge him, he began to state his offer. "Listen… I don't know how inclined you really are to kill me, but if you plan to survive, might I suggest a temporary alliance? Where ever it is they're taking us… we're going to need numbers…" Hopefully, John's diplomatic skills gained him two allies… or at least one… hopefully.
Just as John gave his offer to the orc, they started moving again up a bluff off the side of the island. It was an unpleasant hike, but eventually they made it to a place called the 'The Pit'. It was a dark hole that looked like a lid would fit over it with the right size. Eventually, one by one, they were all tossed into the hole. Eventually, it was John's turn and his cuffs were removed. He quickly turned around, as if about to make a break for it, but the handler simply pushed his chest and he tumbled down into the hole. He fell down on his back with a thud and a grunt. In his daze, he missed his last glimpse of full sunlight before the laced cage was placed over them.

He got up and pulled his hood over his head, and the first thing he saw were all of the other captives surrounding the captain and his first mate, all of them angry. "Looks like you guys really did get your kumuppins…" He said again, moving to the rest of the group planning their escape. He looked at each and every one of the others. Each showing their abilities. One even summoned a demon already! Death knights, elves, spellcasters. Good to know. There was also a young girl, not even an adult yet. Now… how to escape… some people already gotten their ties up and were already plotting to get moving it seemed. He glanced at the draenei and orc, nodding at them, before turning to the Death Knight called Dristis. "The problem is resisting the challenge of facing this "slave-catcher". She sounds charming."
"He's bound..." she muttered in response to someone speaking to her. She didn't look up from staring at Silver, who was gnawing at the chain as they were led to "The Pit." To be honest, she wasn't really paying attention to the Human. She heard his offer, but they were moving before she could answer, and she stayed silent during their stroll. Silver continued gnawing at the chains, little drops of red blood coating the links as the metal pressed into his mouth. She sighed and looked away, staring at the ground in silence.

As she was pushed into the Pit, she turned quickly, waiting for Silver. As soon as he was released, he let out a baying sound, trying to turn but receiving a rough shove into the Pit. San grabbed her fox by the scruff, and he stared silently as the door was eventually shut. Thinking he had calmed, she released him. At the slightest relief of pressure, the fox was running at the door, barking and jumping much higher than one might think him capable of. "Silver," the Huntress called, "Silver, down!" Her young companion ignored her, and was running frantically around the Pit, weaving through legs and even jumping over anyone sitting.

The distress of her pet gave the Draenei a sinking feeling. As he ran back in front of her again, she reached out and caught him in her arms, lifting him off the ground. He whined loudly, squirming. She whispered to him, and held him in a firm grasp until he calmed down. With a gentle kiss on the head, she shifted him, the fox laying in her arm as she went to sit away from the others. "It's okay, Silver," she cooed, stroking the now muddy fur.

As the fire flickered in the corner of her eye, she looked up. She looked about the group, catching sight of both the young priestess, and the other Draenei especially. She stood up carefully, Silver now following quietly in her tracks, fluffy tail twitching madly. Taking a seat by the other Draenei, she offered a small smile. "It's nice to see another Draenei here," she whispered in their tongue. Silver had taken a peculiar interest in the young Priestess, perhaps sensing some of the same emotions he shared. He moved over towards her cautiously, sniffing at her, then sitting in front of her, staring.
Erani's attention was momentarily taken from the death knight when a fellow Draenei took a seat next to her. It was all she could do to keep herself from releasing an audible sigh of relief at seeing someone of her own kind here. In their own, language she whispered back, "It's a pleasure for me as well. I am Erani. What is your name?"
Haewen hadn't spoken to anyone since they had been taken further onto the island. She had watched, had observed - as she was doing now - but she hadn't communicated. It had made her want to laugh that the captain and the other pirate had gotten lumped in with them. It was certainly poetic justice. Although, she certainly wanted to rake her claws across their faces. Any of her claws, it didn't really matter to her. But it seemed she would have to wait until the two Sin'dorei were finished before she could make her move.

The "Pit" certainly was amusing. How could a little hole in the ground ever break a person like her? She wasn't the greatest druid ever, but she had been through a lot, and she had been in a cave when she had slept for a short time in the Emerald Dream. A little cave didn't scare her. She commented as much quietly to herself. "They think a cave can break us? I've been through worse."

Haewen glanced around the room again. A warlock had a demon out, which made Haewen frown, but she shook it away quickly. She tried not to show emotion on the outside. A bunch of death knights seemed to be conversing in another area, and there was a small group around a fire. It was smart, it could give out at least a little light and it could possibly warm anyone who needed it. It might get put out by a guard, but it would last for now. But the Gilnean didn't move from her lone spot. She wasn't sure who she could trust. No one had noticed her yet, and frankly, she sort of liked the idea of that. She knew she wouldn't stay invisible foprever of course. She wanted to get up and talk to someone, but her instincts told her to watch and wait, see what happens. And the druid almost never ignored hyer instincts. She was a worgen druid after all, and animals tended to have better instincts.

She was mulling over this when suddenly the short human was trampled over by a fox. Recovering from being tripped, she looked wildly for it's owner. She finaaly spotted the draenei, and was about to call out when the fox's owner scooped it up and moved to sit by the fire. Seeing as the problem had been taken care of, she shut her mouth and said nothing. She felt it would be important to her to make connections, but another part of her felt she needed to hold back and see who really was a good person to side with.
Gareth stood tense, ready for trouble. He got many angry glances, but only one person approached him looking ready to attack. The blood elf woman came quickly, looking ready to strike. Gareth made ready to defend himself from a blow or kick, but he wasn't prepared for her hands, fingers hooked like a hunting bird's talons, going straight for his neck. Her fingers clamped around his throat for a few moments before he was able to pry them away. As she attempted to throttle him, she began spouting questions.

“Calm down! I'll tell you! I just... didn't think things were going to turn out like this...” garth said, massaging his neck. “But before I say anything, I want to remind all of you that if there is to be any thought of...” at this point Gareth lowered his voice to little more than a whisper, “Escape... You need me. I'm not living out my life as a slave and I doubt any of you want to either. But just remember I'm the only one who has sailed here of their own free will. Only I know where this island is. Even if you escape, if you don't want to sail in circles for weeks until you die of dehydration, you'll want me alive. Oh and Setra too.”

With that he straightened his coat and glanced upward to see how close any guards might be fore he spoke. “I honestly don't know anything about these people or what their intentions are. I had a feeling they wanted captives for slaves, they specified they wanted strong and able-bodied people. I was paid generously, I had to feed my crew. That's why I agreed to do this. I should have just left you people here and sailed away and never came back. But they found me once, they could find me again.” Gareth shrugged.

“As for their whole rule the seas bit, I think that's ridiculous. But rule the seas or rule an island, they've got us good. I think we should put aside our differences and work together.” Gareth struck a noble pose, hoping that his words would have the desired affect on the crowd.

While Gareth was attempting to seem selfless, Setra added her own suggestion. “This pit is in the middle of the settlement. We're not escaping from here, or if we do we won't get far. I say we cool our heels here, then when we are given some work detail we can scope the place out a bit more. I'm sure one day I could distract a guard or two, they'd like me better than some skinny elf, anyways.”

“Yes,” added Gareth, “And unless I'm reunited with my crew before then... I need help sailing my ship. So I suppose I'm going to have to bring you all along... Well, are those sound suggestions? Happy? Or do you still want to fillet me?”
The fire had been a good thing. Two more people came wandering closer to the fire, and Arelius exchanged introductions with the newcomer's.
"Perfect" he thought, "Seems like most are willing to work together."
As soon as he said that though, Gareth spoke out loud. "... I think we should put aside our differences" he said. Arelius's anger flashed, the air around him being distorted as heat radiated out from his body.
"Are you serious?!" he exclaimed. A visible manifestation of flames erupted from the mage's hands, sparking as he came closer to the once Captain of the ship. "I should kill you right where you stand! Explain how any of us could trust you after what you have done!"
Xoolloon saw what was happening and got up quickly. He then quickly walked over to the elf and grabbed his hands. "Watch it Elf, we are all already on edge. If you start to fling fire balls all over the place it will not exactly help everyone's nerves. So just calm down and let the captain talk and if you don't want to just think, everyone might not be on your side."

Xoolloon returned to the fire to sit down and felt content, but his blood lust was rising, the little incident had raised it dramatically. He needed something to hurt or kill. Maybe he could find a rat or mouse. If not he might not be able to stop himself from attacking the next person that outbursts.

Luckily Xoolloon found a rat and tortured it for just a few seconds to feel saited. He then cooked the rat and let anyone whom had the guts to eat some food for a chance.
The situation was beginning to get out of hand, first the Sin'dorei, had tried to throttle the captain, Dalfein was also slightly annoyed by the fact that the captain basically ignored him, but it really didn't matter. Now another Blood Elf was threatening to burn the man alive, standing up the Death Knight stepped between the mage, and the captain. "Burning him alive won't get us anywhere, while I disagree with his chosen profession, and his questionable deals, there is no point in killing him now over them. Besides he is right, even assuming any of us knew how to sail a ship, we have no idea where we are, and I am sure our hosts have cleaned the good captain's ship out of any maps that may help. So if you want to get off this island, and back to Dalaran, I suggest letting the captain live a bit longer, he will get what's coming to him, but right now we need him, just as much as he needs us." Dalfein was surprised he was able to keep his cool considering his rage, and bloodlust were rising, "Now if you would all just calm down, all this anger is beginning to get to me, and I am sure my fellow Death Knights. So unless you want a couple of blood crazed killing machines slaughtering everything in sight, I suggest we all just keep our cool. I don't want to hurt any of you, I prefer to save my killing for those that truly deserve it, like our generous hosts."

The Death Knight took a deep breath, and turned to the captain, "We need to do something soon, even if it's getting myself, and that other Death Knight out to satiate our bloodlust, it seems my fellow is already being affected." He had noted the man's brother edging away, and he could think of no other reason for it, "I can keep in control for at the most another day, but it requires meditation, which would make me basically useless, so unless someone here wants to volunteer we need to think of a way to keep our bloodlust at bay. Maybe our warlock friend could provide some demons for us to kill hmmm, I would much prefer to satiate my hunger on our hosts, but a demon or two will do in a pinch, though I suggest keeping the girl as far away from us as possible if the opportunity to satiate our hunger presents itself since it will be very messy. I don't want to scare the poor girl more than she already is, although all this talk is probably scaring her anyway, and I apologize for that, I try to go against my instincts, but you can only hold them back for so long before you give in. So now hopefully all of that is settled, everyone good with letting our captain friend live long enough to get us home," Dalfein smiled at the room at large, he didn't want to make any enemies here, he just wanted excitement.
The Death Knight's were right. As much as he hated to admit it, flinging fireballs was a bad idea around here. The guards would probably take his magic away and making enemies of the others wasn't bright either, as much as he hated the Captain. futhermore, they did probably need him alive.
Anger still burned deeply inside of Arelius as he growled toward the Captain,"Fortunately for you, the Death Knight is right, now is not the time but I swear if you lay a hand on me or any of the others I will melt the flesh away from bones until you are nothing more then a smoldering pile of ash. You are worse than scum Captain. My eyes are watching you." Arelius's flames ceased from existence though his fury did not. No amount of talking to could sate the anger boiling in him; however, he did manage to bury it deep inside himself as his father had taught him many years ago. "Control, I must control", thought Arelius......
The Draenei shifted uncomfortably in her seat. This was not good. She had seen a death knight go insane from the "endless hunger", as they called it, once before. It... was not a pleasant experience. She would switch her hostile gaze periodically from one death knight to the other tensing at any sudden movements. Erani may not have her weapons, but she still had her horns. Should the knights snap as long as they were in this "Pit" she would try her damnest to fight them off from the others.
Time seemed to stand still as the captured waited in the sun. HE could see others squirming uncomfortably under its burning gaze, however, the heat did not affect drugh. Having lived and trained in durotar, a desert in its own right, the heat comforted him. On the shore, a line of clad beings weaved its way across the sands, obviously the people whom they would be sold too. Who they were and why they needed any of them, drugh could not say, but they were making a terrible mistake. One did not take a warrior as a slave; they would soon learn their lesson.

Drugh appraised the new comers, thoroughly from afar, when he heard one of the pink skins trying to get the attention of an orc, and since there were none of his brothers aboard this ship, he must be addressing him. He made good points, for a human. Yes he did want to kill him, yes he did need him for escaping, a quandary no doubt. As he allowed the too emotions to clash in his mind, his father’s call patience, and peace, floated through his mind. Thinking of his father and the life he left behind when he became a soldier brought fourth conflicting emotions to the young male. How different his life would be if he had not answered the call of the war chief, however that life would not have been for the better.

As his mind refocused on the humans offer, drugh decided to let mull it over for a bit as he had no doubt they would be held captive for quite some time still. Turning his head so he could glimpse this human drugh grunted back in reply, “Your words speak the truth, all of them. I shall think on your offer, I have yet to meet an alliance human who has not tried to betray me. If you can prove your honor over these next weeks, a thing that your kind rarely posses’, I shall stand by your side till we escape this island.” Satisfied with his response, Drugh bonecrusher hobbled down the gangplank with the rest of the chain gang. His wounded knee, impeded his movement severely, causing the brawny warrior to push himself to the limit just too keep up with the menagerie of prisoners.

The man in charge of the cloaked beings began an inspection of sorts, checking the features of a few of the prisoners, luckily for the man, he didn’t touch drugh, he would have most likely lost a few fingers in the process. The inspection did not last long and again they were on the move. Slowly the train of prisoners made its way away from the beaches and into the dense vegetation of the island. The uneven and densely vegetated ground made life a living hell for the orc warrior. Proud and silent drugh struggled through relying on his training, and experience to ignore the pain and keep moving.

After what seemed like hours of marching, the train abruptly left the forest behind, and exposed why they were captured in the first place. Below them a heavily armed and massive fortress compound spread out before them. Conscripts of all races seemed to work fervently on loose scaffolding, unfinished towers, and on high walls. Large cannons loomed on the sea facing Cliffside, a challenge to any who would dare invade this impregnable fortress.

Swiftly they were forced into the complex and were brought to a large barred pit. One by one, and under heavy guard the prisoners were unchained and unceremoniously tossed into the pit. In a strange turn of fate, the captain and his first mat too were thrown in with the prisoners, One ill turn to serve another. Finding himself a corner in the pit, Drugh watched s the others were dropped in as well. Some took turns shouting and taunting the newly minted prisoners, to drugh it was a waste of time. The only interaction that would please him was breaking them, and that was not on the forefront of his mind. Escape was.

One of the magi sparked a fire, which illuminated the dark pit but a little, allowing drugh to see the eyes of those assembled. The number of Death knights that were among them made Drugh skin crawl. They were mindless killing machines, sowers of destruction, a tool, but a tool that Drugh would never willingly employ. He had fought many of their kind in the frozen tundra’s of northrend, they were powerful, but they were far from immortal, a smile crossed the orcish warrior’s face as he recounted one such duel against a death knight captain. He wondered how these would stack up in such a fight?

Such thoughts were forced from his mind as a spike of pain radiated outward from his wounded knee. Grimacing, Drugh swiftly undid the crude bandage and observed his wound. Dark red blood leaked form the improperly closed wound, Drugh cursed to himself in orchish as thought of infection gripped his heart. He would need to cauterize the wound, in order to prevent any further damage. The scarred tissue would be the cause of some jest among his comrades-in-arms should he ever return to his brothers, but that would have to wait.

Running his hands through the coarse sand around him, Durgh found what he was looking for. A coarse piece of jagged metal, no doubt from an old construction project, would serve nicely as a tool, now he would just need to heat it. Hobbling on his good leg, the orc made his way towards the fire, a scowl constantly etched on his face, the pain starting to get the better of him.

Eyeing an opening near the fire, Drugh hobbled forward on his good leg, the jagged metal shard clutched tightly in his hand. Ignoring the muttering and gasps that accompanied his arrival, Drugh thrust the shard into the fire and watched intently as he waited for the metal to glow white hot. He listened not to the commotion that surrounded the good captain, he was not his concern, as of the present. His only objective now was too ready himself for flight, and for that a little battle field triage was in order.


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