The Rogues

The two were mounted on their drakes high above the Black Temple.

The gentle rolling motion of the winged creatures beating time with their very breath, Bree turned to Taz and with a gulp let out a long, drawn out, loud belch in her direction.

“Gawd woman! I can smell that alcohol from here!” said Tazeria waving her small hand in front of her nose. Taz knew that her trusted friend was more than ready for the mission, which lay before them but was compelled to ask anyway.

“ You good to go ‘Bree?’

“Aye.. I am indeed.”…hic.. and another burp bubbled forth.

Tazeria shook her head slightly and began to lower her drake in the direction of the east patio. They would have to repel down the side wall while stealthed and slip between half a dozen guards before they came to the faulty rock that loosely covered an old unused servant entrance. Once there, they would be at the mercy of the labyrinth of corridors and would have to rely on more instinct than knowledge to navigate their way to discover Ito’s exact location under the structure.

Dislodging the loose bricks was far easier and less noisy than Taz had expected, the corridor was damp and stunk of rot and mold. The walls slick with a dark slime that is only present in areas, which have never seen the light of day. The pair silently made their way down hall after hall, descending lower with every step.  A loud thud and simultaneous clanking of lock told them they had found their mark. The rogues had found their target. The Orc Sentinel’s back was to them as he jingled the chain with the keys to the cell into his pocket.

The guard guffawed as he loudly bellowed,” That’ll teach you scrub!”  through the now duel locked and solid cell door. “ There was blood running down his meaty hand, and his left eye was swollen shut and bruised.  “Yes! Taz thought excitedly… Ito lives! Rage filled her being at this foul smelling jailor and anger burned her chest that this pig would dare touch the man in the cell.

She could….not…help… herself.

Enraged at the abuse she knew had taken place, the rogue’s blood began to boil searing-hot rage. Before Tazeria could contain herself, she howled, leaped at the captor and in one swift motion of her deadly, slender hand, laid her lethal dagger across his meaty throat.

“You DARE touch him you warthog!” She hissed in his face, his putrid breath mingling with her own. Bree slide in behind her and in a flash picked first one lock and then the second with her master thief skills.

‘ITO!’ ‘Bree yelled, loudly, thru the door- and with that warning yell, a large orcly fist connected with the back of her head and all went dark.

Tazeria quickly thrust her weight and might against the huge mongrel she held at dagger point, using his body to force the now unlocked door to slam open and they slide through the room on the other side of the entrance, and fell as a heap on the muddy floor. The jailor’s weight falling on top of her body, nearly suffocating her with it’s stench.

Taz’s dagger flew across the small space.

The Orc grunted a chuckle and in what seemed to be a distorted smile, pulled her arms above her head.

“NO!” she struggled against his pressing form.

A low- menacing growl began to rumble from the darkest corner of this cell where Ito was chained. The mighty warrior’s muscles strained beyond known limits and the chains that held the powerful Nightelf were torn from and unbolted from their ancient brick fastenings.

Ito was unbound.

Bree groaned as she awakened; face down on the slick floor of the entryway to the chamber where Ito was held captive. Her head throbbed and she squinched her eyes at the pain.  Her daggers beneath her, handles digging deep into her hip bone making her position that much more uncomfortable. Oblivious to anything but the pain, she sucked in a breath of foul air.

She smelled him before she ever saw him. Her eye’s snapped wide open.

Before she could react, The Orc, muscled and stocky pounced upon her small frame, nearly crushing her with his weight. ‘Bree’s cheek pressed against the dampness of the floor beneath her. There was a pulse-like grunting coming from the back of his throat that only she, could hear. She panicked, shock and terror electrified her skin as she struggled to reach her daggers but to no avail.

“I never miss an opportunity……” He breathed in to her left ear in a voice that was low and gravely. ‘Bree squirmed and wiggled against his bulk, her actions seeming to excite the aggressor even more, his hands exploring her curves. Her mind went frantic as her free hand grasped for something …ANYTHING…to help her defend herself.

The guard slid a solid arm under her stomach and spun ‘Bree’s body onto her back. Now, his face, inches from her own he chortled at her failing attempts at freedom from his grasp.

The shift in position was just enough…. Tazeria’s dagger, which had been dislodged from her minutes before, had found it’s way to “Bree’s searching fingertips.

‘Bree snatched the weapon and with a cry powered by white fear mingled with rage inhuman, sunk the dagger through his back, his lung and then his heart, and his death was instant. Hot, dark red blood oozed from the Orc’s mouth and dripped onto ‘Bree’s neck.

Panting she shoved his body from her, struggling with the weight pushing him off inch by inch.

With a final shove and loud grunt, she was free. She stood and stared down, panting with adrenaline fused breath, at her kill by her feet. She spat on his chest and with her left hand grabbed his pointy left ear, and with one fluid sleek motion of the silver dagger, sliced the ear from the guards’ skull. She held the trophy between her thumb and forefinger high above her head and a slight giggle followed by a belch came from her mouth.

The sound of metal grinding against stone snapped her back to reality.

“Ito!” she thought, and raced to the adjacent chamber.

________________________________________________________________________________________________

Dynamic stood on a rather large rocky formation about half a mile from the side entrance of the Temple.

“They’re in”. he thought as he lowered the long, brass spyglass from his searching eye.

He had seen the small opening appear, as if by magic, as the silent, invisible rogues made their way into the depths of the ages old building known as The Black Temple. He knew the next few hours may be his last in this foul land, and he intended to leave his mark upon it…whether he survived or not, today- THIS day, the vermin who guarded this place would know his name evermore.

The distraction of the guards had to happen fast, error free and in such a fashion as to allow the rogues time to infiltrate the dark, lower depths of this place, where he knew Ito was held hostage.

“Xanuth!”..His commanding voice echoed off the backdrop of a solid rock cliff, “ Gather the troops…time to ride. There’s no room for mistakes here..and… I… mean… NONE! See that they each understand that- or there will be HELL… TO…PAY!” His voice punctuating each word.

Xanuth, saluted and spun swiftly, turning in the direction of the ten, armor clad figures gathered about a small water well, pointing and directing each to their mount.

Dyn raised the spyglass to his eye for one last look about the area, ensuring his original assessment of their position. In the distance he saw, what appeared at first to be a small flock of dark birds, slightly out of position …maybe half a dozen or so, but quite out of place for this remote location.

He hesitated and continued to peer, narrowing his eye just a bit, as to clear and decipher the slight vision before him.  Then he saw the red and gold of their tabard colors, on every rider and recognized that it was not foe, but friend, who rode the wings of these drakes in the sky above.

“How the hell did they know we’d be here? And more, what the hell do you suppose they want?” Swill asked Dynamic in a confused voice.

“I dunno.” He said in a low response, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth, “But you can bet it ain’t for Tea and Mingo’s Fortune Giblets.”

With that said, the fliers descended, still mounted upon their mighty drakes, landing on the rock, encircling the pair of leaders. A flurry of red and gold colored, ornately decorated material, and whipped at their legs.

Odage, the rogue, Azzarakk, the shadow priest, Pounders and Frigne their Paladins, all belonged to the family Vindication, the only people known to Alliance, ever to have made it out of this Black Temple of doom, alive.

Odage had a seriousness about him that was regal and unchallenged by the common man. He took two short strides and with a straight back stood before Swill with a rolled parchment in his outstretched hands.

“I bring you a map of the tunnels, and offer my blade to assist you in their safe return.” Odage stated to Swill, his eyes searching for a sign that his help would be needed.

Suddenly, a large commotion broke out near the east wall, where the two rogues had entered not long before.

Dynamic screamed “MOVE OUT! GO GO GO!”

The orcs had come.