COINCIDENCE & KISMET: CHAPTER 2
- Mar 31
- 29 min read
Updated: Apr 21
THE COMPLICATION
It turned out Dotolo needn’t have worried about his or anyone else's throat being slit in the night, as come the first light of dawn he woke to the gentle rumblings of what was unmistakably a big cat looming over him, clearly paying him no mind, but saber fangs hanging awfully close to his head. He half reached for his sword on reflex when the cool voice of the night elf stopped him.
“Don’t. You’ll only get yourself maimed.”
He spotted her standing on the other side of the cat, barely visible from his vantage point on the ground, gently stroking the beast’s dark gray fur. The animal was huge, its coat a regal shade of silver gray, accented around the muzzle by shades of white that showed its age, and peppered with bare patches here and there that marked the scars of its life. The creature was ancient, though its glowing eyes spoke to an intelligence that said it was not to be trifled with. It was half outfitted in bronze armor, denoting its place as a beast of war. The other half was piled up next to the back of the wagon, waiting to be loaded in.
“So dis where you slipped off to?” He said accusingly, getting to his feet and taking a few healthy steps back from it. The cat gave him a lazy blink out of the corner of its eye, but made no moves otherwise, content to be pampered by its mistress.
“A pack raptor will draw attention. Selgassi will be less noticeable so long as he is out of his armor. And yes, I had to retrieve him from Duskwood,” the rogue said simply, still grooming her great tiger. She whispered quiet things to the beast in Darnassian, gibberish to Dotolo, but apparently whatever she said pleased the cat as its responding purr woke the rest of the children who were still sleeping. Several scampered back in fear, while a few of the bolder ones whispered in awe at being so close to one of the unique Night Elven cavalry.
“Ah….fair ‘nuff,” Dotolo agreed half-heartedly, still not thrilled about this gigantic war beast lying mere feet from his mate and charges.
“We head out in an hour. I suggest you get everything and everyone ready to travel. You’ll all be in the wagon today,” the night elf said again, still not sparing Dotolo a glance.
Not exactly the most appealing prospect, but it was the smartest. Today they’d be passing through Duskwood and Ravenwood. Both heavily patrolled villages for the Alliance. It would be cramped in the cart with both Dotolo and Sai’in and the war-cat’s armor, along with the Matron and the children, but it was far better than the alternative. Plus it would allow both him and Sai'in a moment of respite. The two of them had been constantly on the move for nearly a week with this little caravan of orphans at this point and before that it had been a harried flight from the Plaguelands. They had barely had a moment to collect themselves after what had happened.
And if you asked him exactly what HAD happened...well that was it's own pile of complicated. He had just been a faceless name on the rosters, another warrior in the lower ranks of the Horde, on assignment to bolster the garrisons in Stranglethorn, keeping the Horde's interests protected from Alliance and other outside forces. And then his twin brother had shown up at his door, asking for some help wrangling a new pet. He'd had a good long laugh at that one, his brother a skilled hunter in every regard except one; knowing how to tame and handle pets, but like always he'd agreed. He'd stopped laughing when he saw the aforementioned 'pet'.
She was an absolute mess when he first met her, a bizarre mix between troll and wolf so mad with rage that he had at first thought she was a rabid worgen that had somehow wandered down from Silverpine. Soto had found her near death and thought the same until he saw the tattoos on her arm; indicative of the troll shamans in the ranks of the Horde. He assumed she had passed out halfway through a transformation into Ghost Wolf or something of the sort, though it would've been the first time he'd ever heard of that. He'd tried to get her to safety, enough so that she could regain conciousness and shift fully back, but when she'd woken up she'd attacked in a feral rage. Panicked, Soto did the first thing that came to mind, which was to trap her and get his tank of a brother to help him wrangle her until they could figure out what to do.
Which is how Dotolo had ended up essentially wrestling a feral were-shaman out of a trap and through the jungle to the safety of the closest shelter they could find, and how 2 years, several favors to druid and shaman friends in the army, and a whole lot of maiming later, they learned her name. Sai'in. A survivor from a botched raid in Zul'Gurub, captured and kept as a replacement for one of the Gurubashi's slain avatars. They had tried to break her, and had succeeded, just not in the way they had hoped. Instead of a loyal convert, they wound up with a shaman that refused to leave her ghost wolf form until she went feral. And when they tried to force her out of it...something more spiritual than Dotolo was qualified to name...intervened. She escaped, but with a broken mind and a warped body, and that would have continued to be her fate had Soto not found her bleeding out in the brush.
As it was, once they knew the whole story, the question became...what next? The instant they mentioned getting her back to the Horde so they could debrief her, she'd refused. Violently. Never again, she'd said, in no uncertain terms, after they'd calmed her down. The Horde left her and her brothers for dead, she'd said. At the mention of brothers, Soto decided the best thing to do was to try and find out if any had survived. If she wouldn't go back to the Horde, she could at least go back to family. And so it was that for the good part of a year, Soto split his time between tracking down these mystery brothers of Sai'in's and covering their duties with the Horde, while Dotolo stayed with Sai'in in what had become their makeshift home in Stranglethorn. If you'd asked Dotolo then, why he'd agreed to stay out in the wilderness with a half feral shaman, he'd have pointed out that he was the only one likely to survive if she decided to go full feral again. If you asked him a month after, he'd been willing to admit it was because he was starting to enjoy her company. If you'd asked him at the end of that year, it would be because he was falling in love with her.
A sentiment she shared, when Soto finally came back with news, that in fact yes, there were a set of surviving trolls from that same raid, all with such excessive injuries that they'd all been honorably discharged, that claimed to be brothers. It had taken him awhile to track them down because they were living up in Revantusk village in the Hinterlands. By the time Soto returned, telling them the news and sending letters to arrange this potential family reunion, Sai'in had already made Dotolo promise to come with her, and he already knew that wherever Sai'in went, he'd be right by her side. Come hell or high water.
Well, Dotolo mused darkly, Hell had certain come.
Undead uprisings, swarms of ghouls and risen soldiers. They'd been ambushed. His last clear memory before he...fell...had been the look of horror on Sai'in's face. He didn't know what happened after that.
Because he'd died.
And he wouldn't until he woke to a hazy world filled with blood, ice, and cold and one domineering command.
Kill.
The death knight shook himself out of his private musings, trying to ignore the chill that went down his spine at the memory of the chains on his mind when he'd woken up. Instead he distracted himself by going over to check on Sai'in, who was busying herself shoving things into a pack. She kept jerking around and tilting her head from side to side, a one of the permanent quirks from her more feral days that Dotolo knew only acted up this bad when something was bothering her. He was moderately reassured she wasn't slipping entirely when he put his hand on her shoulder and she stopped twitching. Mostly.
“You sure you’re okay, Sai?” the Death Knight asked quietly in Zandali, switching to the troll language for more privacy. Benevolent though these Alliance seemed to be, it didn't pay to show weakness. She hunched a bit more, shrinking within her armor.
I'm fine,” she hissed quietly. “I'm just…don't want to be stuck out here. With THEME. Did we have to bring them into this?!” She jerked her head in the direction of the night elf currently hitching the war-cat up to where the raptor had been before they'd released it the night before.
Dotolo sighed. "Not my first choice, but what else were we gonna do? Kill the patrol and hope no one noticed?"
"We barely got enough gold ta cover them...and if..." she trailed off, clicking her tongue against a tusk in irritation.
"If what?"
Sa'in was silent for a bit, before snarling lightly to herself and scoffing as she resumed packing. “I…I just don't feel well, that’s all,” she admitted, avoiding eye contact with Dotolo.
The death knight blinked, a bit surprised by the admission. Sai'in wasn't usually one to admit weakness, even to him. “What about your healing magic?”
"It doesn't do anything!" she snapped, but reeled in her temper as soon as she realized how loud she'd been. The red-haired shaman shook her head, the jewelry in her hair and ears jingling musically. “Not for long, anyway. I just...don't know what is going on and if my magic ain't working then we gotta get someone else's."
Dotolo took the packed satchel from in front of his distressed mate and shouldered it, discreetly clacking a tusk against hers as he leaned down. "Even if your magic ain't cooperating, you aren't alone anymore. I might be technically dead, but I can still throw a punch or two."
His attempt at levity was met with the barest of bitter chuckles. "You shouldn't have to. Not after what that monster made you do. Makes you do."
The blue haired death knight sighed heavily as he stood up. Of course that would be something she'd worry about. Because like an idiot, in the aftermath of breaking the last of Arthas' shackles, he'd broken down and told her everything. Everything. Including the part where the shackles were only broken by that paladin wielding Ashbringer because they'd started snapping when Arthas commanded him to kill his brother, one of the prisoners that was too stubborn to die, but too sickly from untreated injuries to make a useful Death Knight. And Dotolo had done it. He'd also told her about the curse Arthas had added into his Death Knights to ensure maximum carnage. Cause pain, spill blood, or suffer. The only way to break that curse was to turn your blade on yourself. Or have someone do it for you.
So of course Sai'in had taken up the role of protector. Use her magic so he didn't have to do more than punt a critter to keep the curse at bay. Use her strength so he didn't have to kill anyone else and bring on the images of his brother trying to reach him through Arthas' grip. Use her touch to drive away the impulse to put an end to it all and remind him that there was a reason to keep going beyond merely existing. They were a broken pair tied to each other, each struggling to keep the other afloat so they didn't drown themselves. And it seemed to be affecting Sai'in's health.
Wonderful.
Deciding there was nothing more to add, Dotolo simply let it be, and offered his hand to help Sai'in up. Drawn out of her own musings, which seemed to be punctuated with a deep growl that seemed out of place coming from a wiry shaman, she too chose to leave the more existential thoughts to the wayside for the time being.
"You two lovebirds done over there?"
Sai'in's expression fell into a comical deadpan at the sound of the gnome's voice. Dotolo did his best not to chuckle.
"Jus' packin' up," he called back.
"Well eat while you pack then," Teegan drawled, throwing some dried jerky at the death knight, who caught it more on reflex than actual conscious thought. "Also tell those orc kids to stop petting the imps. They start getting used to it and I'll never hear the end of it."
Dotolo nodded in acknowledgment as he turned back to Sai'in, cracking the jerky in half. "Breakfast?"
Sai'in eyed the jerky warily and wrinkled her nose at it, her face going a few shades paler than normal. "Urp....no...t'ank ya," she gagged.
"It's not dat bad," Dotolo shrugged, pocketing the spare half in a pouch for later.
"Fo' all we know it be demon meat."
That at least got an honest laugh out of Dotolo, which Sai'in took with a smile before she grabbed her pack from Dotolo and made to move as far away from the jerky in his hand as she could.
They rode most of the day in relative silence, stopping once in awhile for necessities, to let the riders stretch their legs. The great war-tiger had been dressed down, stripped of its decorated bronze armor and elaborate riding gear, instead now sporting simple carriage harnesses, its shining coat dulled with dirt and mud. It now looked like an old bedraggled cat well past its prime, suitable for nothing better than hauling cargo, but if you watched carefully, and knew your cavalry well, one could see that it moved too smoothly to be a pack mule. Thankfully they were in human lands, and patrols rarely knew the night elf riding cats well enough to notice. The night elf walked alongside the cat, leading it on gently by a worn leather rein, wearing a tattered traveling cloak over her dark leathers and hiding her twin daggers. She’d applied the same generous coating of grime to her clothing and dark blue hair, a bedraggled wide brimmed hat replacing her cowl and mask to complete the transformation into weary traveling merchant. Teegan was playing the part of caravan bodyguard, which was accented by the gigantic felguard that was walking at the side of the wagon. A gaggle of imps hopped along the other side. Teegan would make remarks every once in awhile, and even at one point started having a full on conversation with the felguard, while the rogue remained completely silent save for gentle whispers of Darnassian to the tiger.
Dotolo had to give it to the two, they knew what they were doing. He got the distinct impression this was not the first time they had done something of this nature, and while a small part of him now worried that he wouldn't see a double-cross coming if they tried to sell them out, the larger part of him said there was nothing to worry about and was able to turn his attention to other matters. Like how over the course of the day Sai'in went from merely being grouchy to being full on nauseous as the cart swayed down the road. More than once she cast a quick healing spell under her breath, but the relief was always temporary. For the most part, an uncomfortable inconvenience...until they lurched to a sudden stop and Sai'in let out a miserable sounding groan, clamping a hand over her mouth until her stomach seemed to have settled and she was able to cast a minor healing spell. Dotolo heard a clamor of armor and Teegan's voice from up ahead of them.
A patrol. Shit.
The entire cart fell silent, the kids and matron with wide eyes fixated on the closed cart flap, while Dotolo had one hand on Sai'in's shoulder to make sure she was okay while the other hovered over the hilt of his runeblade. It was a tense few minutes, but thankfully Dotolo eventually managed to make out what Teegan was saying; that the cart's owner was allergic to brimstone and her demons were making him sick in the back of the cart. That seemed to be enough to keep anyone from peeking. When the patrol had moved on, Teegan had glanced into the back and raised an eyebrow at the two trolls. "While I appreciate the noises for added effect, is this going to be a problem?" The gnome shot a glare at the red-headed shaman in particular.
"Tell 'er....I..urk...got dis under control. It just be da road," Sai'in grumbled pathetically, leaning against the back of the wagon, well away from all the kids who had corralled themselves around the orc matron. Dotolo sighed but translated. Teegan gave him a look that said she was unconvinced, but shrugged and hopped back over to the back of her felsteed. They got moving again soon after.
To her credit, Sai'in kept her word, though it cost her more healing spells to quell the bouts of nausea. And without using her totems, it meant those healing spells were costing Sai'in more of her strength than they would normally. By the time they'd reached the first edges of Ravenwood, Sai'in had shifted to her mangled wolf form and curled up to sleep off the sickness. When they'd stopped to distribute food to the kids, the night elf peeked in, took note of Sai'in, and muttered something to Teegan. The gnome cheerfully declared that it made for a great excuse to keep people from peeking into the back of the cart and just slugged her friend in the shoulder. The night elf did not seem amused, though she rarely seemed to be anything other than what he expected of the kaldorei people. Aloof, distant, and generally stand offish.
Which of course begged the question of why she was the one to agree to help them in the first place. He kept coming around to that question again and again throughout the day, and the next time they took a rest to stretch their legs, he decided to ask Teegan about it. The gnome at least was chatty, and he got the impression that gossip was one of the warlock's fatal weaknesses.
“It’s the kids,” she said simply when he’d asked. “She’s got a soft spot for them.”
“Dey be orc, mostly, ya realize?” Dotolo had refuted, finding it hard to believe.
“So? They’re still kids. As strange as this might sound to you Hordies, not every member of the Alliance is a murdering skeezball.”
“A what now?” Dotolo blinked at Teegan's turn of phrase, as if his brain had just short-circuited. He might have had this weird side-effect of his time under Arthas' thrall that had granted him a command of the Alliance Common language he hadn't had before, but even that couldn't properly parse half of the slang that came out of the gnome's mouth.
Teegan was unphased and simply reiterated, “We don’t kill children. Doesn’t matter what race, what faction, whatever. If they haven’t harmed the Alliance directly, we don’t kill them.”
Dotolo raised an eye ridge skeptically. “An’ if dey grow up ta serve da Horde?”
“Then we deal with them then,” Teegan shrugged. “I don’t see you two trying to kill the little draenei.”
Dotolo ceded the point then, but didn’t stop keeping an eye on the rogue. He figured if the gnome was going to try and attack them, he’d hear her coming. Powerful she might have been, but she wasn’t exactly subtle. The rogue probably could gut them all in their sleep without waking anyone up. By the time they reached their destination for the first day, which was just outside of Ravenwood’s watchers in a small grove off the beaten path, Dotolo had realized what it was about the rogue that set his teeth on edge.
“Ya not just be some mercenary out fo' some coin, are ya?” He asked her point blank as she was handing out rations to the children. “Yer one o’ dose assassin’s. An old one.”
The night elf actually smirked. “You’re pretty perceptive for someone who’s been dead’.”
Dotolo grimaced. He really hadn't wanted to be right. Mercenaries he understood, and even spies he could figure out given enough time. Assassins on the other hand... “Den why ya be helpin’ us like dis?”
She didn’t respond right away, instead opting to silently distribute the rest of the rations to the hungry children. When finished, she sat down opposite Dotolo’s position around their little campfire. The death knight didn’t stop watching her, waiting for her to answer his question.
“Because children should not have to pay for the legacy of their elders,” she said finally. “They should be judged for their deeds alone.”
“Most o’ ya Alliance not be agreein’ witcha on dat,” Dotolo mused. “Ya probably be branded a traitah fo’ helpin’ us.”
“You abandoned the Horde army. As far as I see it, we are simply helping neutral parties pass through hostile territory with innocent children. Any commander with any pull wouldn’t waste their breath trying to brand us traitors over that,” she replied coolly.
Dotolo blinked in disbelief. “How ya know we be deserters?”
“You just told me,” she smirked, grin widening even more when she noted Dotolo stiffen up at the accusation. “I suspected as much though. Not many heavily armored mercenaries wander far from the front lines these days. Particularly not ones that wield the power you do.”
Dotolo cursed mentally his slip, but had to give the rogue credit where it was due. “Fair ‘nough.”
"Your mate seems in rough shape," the night elf mused cryptically. "I trust this won't complicate matters?"
The death knight glanced at his sleeping mate. "She be fine."
The rogue raised an elongated eyebrow at him, clearly not buying his lie, but she didn't press further.
“Armesan, by the way.” she said, brushing her hands on her pants as she stood up to leave.
Dotolo had to raise an eyebrow at that. “Eh?”
“My name.”
The death knight blinked in disbelief as he watched her stroll over to tend her cat, the only thing she seemed to show any real open affection for. “That’s progress, I guess,” he muttered to himself in Zandali.
By the time they were within range of Booty Bay’s jurisdiction, no amount of lying could convince anyone that Sai'in was okay. Even the shaman had given up the charade, and had retreated fully into her wolf form. She was barely eating, and they'd had to extend their trek an extra day to accommodate for all the extra stops once they hit the rougher terrain of Stranglethorn. Dotolo did not miss that as the journey lengthened, Teegan's demeanor got less and less flippant. What small cracks had appeared in Armesan's icy persona were gone, and she was back to barely acknowledging them with more than a glare. The two were not pleased at what they saw as an undisclosed complication.
For the most part, Dotolo couldn't have cared less, except that he was keenly aware at how much they were at the mercy of these two Alliance and how it was entirely his fault. When it had become clear it would take a fourth day before they could reach Booty Bay proper, Dotolo had toyed with the idea of paying them now and just trying to make the rest of the way on foot, but fate saw that moment to grace them with yet another patrol, this one with a paladin and a priest. From each faction. Clearly whatever was going on with the defection of Arthas' death knights had everyone rattled. Even the neutral areas were being watched, and with cooperated forces.
And so, Dotolo bit his tongue and reminded himself to be grateful he’d enlisted Teegan and Armesan to escort them to the bay. The patrol had attempted to inspect the cart, but some quick talking from the gnome, and the elf quietly getting the matron holding the draenei child to poke her head out and feign a cough and beg for food allowed them to pass by without further inspection.
“Definitely didn't figure we'd be the ones needing smuggling out here,” Dotolo whispered quietly to his mate, trying to lift her spirits. She at least huffed in response, which in Sai’in speak was akin to a weak chuckle. It wasn’t much but it was something.
Once the sound of clanking armor disappeared, the flap of the cart was pulled open so Teegan could stick her head in. "You still alive back there?"
Dotolo sighed. "We be f-"
"I swear to the gods if you say 'we're fine' one more time I will shove this staff so far up your ass you will be coughing up brimstone for a month."
His mouth snapped shut, and instead opted to say, "How much further til da bay?"
"Maybe an hour. Two if she needs a rest," Teegan jerked her head at Sai'in. "We're dropping the cart charade the minute we're in the bay. No one will care once we're in the city so long as you keep your hood up and your weapon put away."
Dotolo sighed, and translated for the orc matron, who was looking at Dotolo expectantly.
“I can get the children onto the boat myself, you need not trouble yourselves more than you have," she said.
Dotolo translated and added, “She get dem on da boat, while I go get a healah for Sai. I pay ya da rest o ya fee after dat.”
Teegan nodded to the orc matron, but raised an eyebrow at Dotolo's last comment. "You know the original deal was for three days of escort, right? Not four? We're not running a charity."
The troll death knight gritted his teeth but nodded. He'd kind of been hoping the delays wouldn't be added to their costs. "A deal's a deal."
“Remember that, then,” the warlock grumbled. Apparently even Teegan's good nature had its limits.
A mercenary is a mercenary, no matter how benevolent they might seem, Dotolo grumbled internally, letting out a deep sigh and scratching Sai'in behind her ears to reassure her. "Dun worry, Sai. Few more hours an' den we can figure dis out. We'll be fine. Promise."
The gentle huff was his only reply, but he felt her lean into his side a bit heavier in appreciation as the cart got moving again.
It should have been so much simpler once they'd arrived.
The instant they were past the threshold of Booty Bay and down the ramps the cart was abandoned. The matron, after profound thanks to Dotolo and the two Alliance, was on the boat with her orphans, bound for Ratchet and Loa willing, a much safer destination than the harsh crags of the Badlands. Armesan had taken her war-mount to clean up at the stables while Teegan agreed to guard Sai'in, who had finally run dry of mana and strength to hold back the worst of the road sickness and just told Dotolo to dose her with sleeping herbs. The forced unconsciousness would ensure that she would stay asleep, rather than be roused by the nausea, but it did mean that short of dragging around an unconscious shaman, someone had to watch her while Dotolo found another healer to take a look at her. He'd more or less begged Teegan to watch her while Armesan was busy, since the gnome was stuck waiting anyway, to which she had sighed heavily, but agreed.
He'd even found a healer without too much issue and without too many questions. For a brief moment he dared to think that maybe this would all turn out okay. Until with the old orc healer in tow he saw a pair of bruisers running past him and turn down towards the docks. Right where he'd left Teegan and Sai'in.
"Gods and Loa, what now?" the death knight groaned, breaking into a run to follow the bruisers towards the commotion he could now hear coming from the docks below.
A dozen different scenarios flashed through his mind as he ran; cutpurses trying to rob a defenseless shaman, the paladins who had finally figured out they'd been lied to, the two Alliance deciding to betray them and collect the deserter's bounty that was very likely on their heads, Arthas sending in a bunch of undead to collect him again. It wasn't until he rounded the curve of the stables that he saw what it was and it was at that exact moment that he learned that he could indeed turn a few shades paler than death.
Because through the panic of nearly being discovered in Duskwood, to the sudden appearance of the two Alliance mercenaries, and the near constant vigil he'd held over his sick mate over the last four days, no one had asked, nor did he think to mention why he and Sai'in, specifically, were going to Booty Bay.
Namely, that Sai’in’s brothers were supposed to meet them here.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck..." Dotolo raced ahead of the old healer, nearly bowling into a dock worker scurrying out of the way of a fireball. The shriek of a goblin bruiser told him that the fireball had found its mark and the ensuing splash afterwards told him that the bruiser would live. Probably.
Dotolo didn't bother to check, too distracted trying to make sense of the chaos that had unfolded on the docks. His first instinct was to find Sai'in, who he was easily able to spot still tucked against the crates where he'd left her, largely because it was one of the only places still not on fire or full of bodies. Teegan had formed a small protective circle around Sai'in with her pile of imps, who were gleefully fireballing anyone who got within range of them. The warlock herself, was atop her felsteed, wreathed in fire armor and throwing shadowbolts at the feet of one of Sai'in's brothers who was engaged in a stalemate against Teegan's felguard. Armesan, meanwhile, seemed to have arrived after the commotion had started, and had jumped the youngest of the three, leaving him reeling off to the side with his daggers on the ground, while the last one, the other, more experienced rogue, was trying to get past the night elf and reach his sister, though he didn't seem to be able to break past Armesan's maneuvers. He already had a couple of throwing knives lodged in his armor, and the few unconscious bruisers peppered around the little arena were enough to keep any other enforcers from stepping in to break up the brawl until one side had exhausted the other.
“Stop! She’s fine! They’re with us!” Dotolo yelled, waving frantically trying to get any of the brothers' attentions, but to no avail.
With diplomacy defeated, the panicked death knight did the only thing he could think of that didn't involve drawing his sword and announcing the presence of one of Arthas' death knights, former or otherwise, to the entire Bay. Tilting into a full sprint, Dotolo launched himself at full speed directly into the middle of the brawl. He didn't even care who he hit, he just needed everyone to pause for one second so he could explain everything.
Armesan caught the movement out of the corner of her eye at the last moment, kicking Sai'in's oldest brother away to use him as leverage to dodge backwards enough to avoid getting clipped by a heavy plate shoulder, so instead of hitting the two rogues, Dotolo instead ended up barreling headfirst into the felguard and warrior. The resounding crash of plate on plate, and the felguard going flying off to the side into some of the onlookers was enough to make the whole world pause just long enough for the haze of battle to lift.
“What the fuck...Dotolo?!” Teegan barked incredulously, completely ignoring her flattened felguard and boggling at the pile of groaning trolls that had suddenly appeared where her demon had been.
"Don't...ungh...attack them," Dotolo groaned, fumbling as his vision slowly cleared and the world stopped spinning.
"What da fuck are ya doin'?! Dey kidnappin' Sai'in!" the warrior, who's name Dotolo remembered to be Enoki, snarled, shoving Dotolo off him, fumbling for his two handed weapon but his head was still spinning badly enough that he was having trouble focusing.
"They're mercenaries...we hired dem..."
“Da fuck d'ya mean, 'ya hired dem'?” the eldest snarled at Dotolo. Xan’jin, Dotolo recalled.
“They ain't kidnappin' 'er. We hired dem ta get us here past Alliance territory...we...she needed a healer” Dotolo hissed back, shaking his head to clear the stars and getting back to his feet so he could put himself between Sai'in's protective siblings and the two Alliance who looked very displeased by this whole turn of events.
“Da fuck ya need a healer fo'? Sai's a healer! Dey drugged 'er!” The youngest, Duma, raged, having finally shaken off the sap that had taken him out of the fight.
"I promise, I'll tell ya everthin', jus'...stop tryin' ta kill dem fo' two minutes," Dotolo pleaded, glancing between the three red-headed brothers, until the stomping of hooves behind him reminded the death knight that Sai'in's brothers weren't the only pissed off parties involved here.
“Speak a language we can all understand or I swear on your various gods I will show you EXACTLY how Dalaran crater happened!” Teegan yelled, all patience fully expended at this point. Her fingers were cracking with shadow magic, and Dotolo had no doubts she’d use it. She’d already leveled part of the dock storehouses. Armesan simply glared at Dotolo, but her expression was a new and slightly terrifying level of glare. One that promised violence.
“Tee’gan, A’mesan, these be Sai’s bruddahs. Sai’s bruddahs? These be da mercenaries we hired ta get us past Duskwood.” Dotolo said, gesturing accordingly, swapping between common and orcish. "Sai's sick, an' 'er magic wasn' workin'. "
“Ya left 'er with fuckin' ALLIANCE?” Duma growled.
“She dosed 'erself when she ran outta mana so we could get past da guards! We needed a healer! I didn’ have a choice!” Dotolo barked back.
“And you should be glad he did. Your sister would be in worse shape if he hadn’t.”
All four of the trolls stopped and as one turned to look at the night elf, who had just jutted in with perfect Orcish.
Dotolo, after everything, finally snapped.
“You speak ORCISH?!” he roared, raising his fist as if to attack her, but at least retaining enough common sense not to actually follow through. Armesan didn’t flinch, and simply sheathed her daggers and folded her arms across her chest.
“I’m a rogue you idiot. What good is a spy who can’t understand what’s being said by their targets?”
Later, Dotolo would kick himself for not realizing that sooner, but at the moment, he was more focused on reigning in his temper, a fact not helped by the bark of a laugh that came from Xan at the exchange.
Armesan merely kept glaring at Dotolo, not intimidated by his threatening display, until she seemed to tire of the stare down, and looked past him towards the old priest standing off to the side.
“You came to see a sick troll?” She inquired, indicating the troll behind the ring of imps.
The healer snapped out of his trance-like stupor and scurried past the throng of trolls, which seemed to call everyone else back to reality. Absorbed in the task of rousing the poor shaman, Armesan and Teegan stepped off to the side, momentarily forgotten.
“I was wondering if you’d tell them,” Teegan smirked at the rogue.
“I would have rather not told them at all,” she replied. Teegan chuckled.
“I wonder what they would do if they knew you also speak Zandali.”
Armesan joined in the chuckling. “Heart attacks, probably. There's a pretty good chance the death knight’s mate is pregnant from what they were saying in the wagon on the way here.”
“How can you tell?”
“Sudden bouts of nausea unaffected by healing magics, made worse by smells and movement? The need for a second healer's opinion? If troll pregnancies are anything like a night elf's, that's where I'd put my money.”
"And how would you know what a night elf pregnancy is like Lady Never-Stays-In-One-Place-For-More-Than-A-Week?" Teegan’s eyes suddenly went wide when her friend didn't answer right away. “Wait, you have a kid, don't you! Where? How old? Are their vocabularies easily corruptable?”
Armesan’s smile fell the tiniest bit, but she said nothing, and simply turned towards the inn, Teegan tailing after her with a string of irreverent questions.
It took a fair bit of time before they managed to get Sai’in back on her feet and somewhere less public than the smoldering remains of the Booty Bay docks to examine her. When the healer pronounced that Sai’in was actually fine, but was suffering from a rather severe bout of what amounted to troll morning sickness, there was a lot of confusion, and most of all, yelling.
How can she be pregnant?!
I’m not even technically alive!
How far along?!
The hells did ya do to my sister?!
It was well into the night by the time Dotolo had been assured Sai'in was fine, if weak, from the lack of food, her brothers had finished offering a combination of congratulations and mild threats, and the Booty Bay Bruiser Authority had hunted him down and released him with only several fines for the damages to the docks and a strong suggestion to take family squabbles elsewhere in the future. When he'd asked why he'd gotten stuck with the fines for Teegan's flames, the captain had told him the gnome was under his employ, and thus he was responsible for the damages. With a heaving sigh, Dotolo simply nodded, paid the fines, and then gone to confront the doom that waited for him at the inn.
“You don’t have our payment, do you?” Armesan said idly, hearing the troll enter the inn from her perch at the bar. It was nearly empty, given the hour, most patrons having already drunk themselves into the harbor or someone's bed. Dotolo grumbled a bit, but sighed and joined her at the bar. He was still angry at her for not telling him she spoke orcish before he spent four days translating for their little band, but realized that she wasn’t going to rise to his bait, or apologize. Besides, she'd easily taken out one experienced rogue and hardly been touched by the other. He wasn’t sure he could beat her in a straight fight.
“Not aftah all dis, no,” he admitted. "I dun suppose ya be willin' ta make exceptions?"
Armesan raised an eyebrow at the troll
“Didn’t t’ink so.”
“The pay from the Matron you agreed to escort will go towards it, but you still owe us for the extra day and the supplies.”
“Supplies?”
“Where do you think all those rations for the kids came from?”
“I thought ya stole dem,” Dotolo admitted.
Armesan scoffed, sipping her drink. "Why are your mate’s brothers here? If they were coming this way and your mate already was showing signs of illness, why didn’t they just meet you in the Badlands?”
“Dey were in da middle of a trip ta Ogrimmar ta sell da crafted goods dey make when Sai was able ta send dem a letter tellin' 'em I was...alive. Dey said meetin' us here would be safah den waitin' up north. We didn' know much 'bout what was goin' on once we left da Plaguelands, so we agreed.” Dotolo explained, warily eyeballing the rogue. “Ya ain't gonna rob dem for ya pay, are ya?”
The rogue moved far too fast for Dotolo to react, even in his prime alive. One moment she was sitting calmly, sipping a drink, then next his feet were kicked out from under him and the back of his head hit the bar with a dizzying speed. When he regained his senses seconds later, she was looming over him, one arm pressed against his throat to keep him pinned against the bar with a strength he did not expect from someone with such a lithe frame. Her eyes were narrowed dangerously.
“We have done nothing but help you since we met you, and all we asked in exchange was a fair fee for our time, expertise, and the supplies. Now that you are unable to keep your end of the bargain, you immediately assume the worst of us and call us the thieves. I will not tolerate such disrespect,” she sneered, and for the first time since meeting the rogue, Dotolo had a real sense of the danger he was in, and he was afraid.
“Ya take an I.O.U?”
Dotolo struggled to see who the new voice belonged to, though he had a guess, and was verified when Xan’jin’s tall, lanky frame entered his vision. Apparently the one eyed rogue had been listening long enough to know what was going on. He was talking to the elf, who was stock still for a moment before she released the pressure holding Dotolo down, allowing the death knight to regain his balance and shakily get to his feet.
“Depends,” Armesan said, turning her back to the death knight. “What are you prepared to offer?”
“We dun ‘ave enough ta square ya tab now, but ya get whatevah dah Matron pay ya plus what we can spare. Da rest we pay ya back next time we make dis trip,” Xan said, leaning against one of the posts non-nonchalantly.
“A promise that a year from now you’ll pay us back?” Armesan replied skeptically.
Xan reached into his pocket and pulled out a piece of parchment, offering it to the night elf. “Dis be our route. Every yeah aftah da spring thaw. Ya meet us at da bordahs of da Wetlands and we settle up den,” He smirked as Armesan grabbed the map and studied it. “I trust ya read orcish too?”
Armesan raised a dark blue eyebrow at the towering troll, but didn’t rise to the bait. She scanned the document once more and rolled it up, stashing it away in a hidden pouch on her belt. “You’ll have our answer in the morning,” she said briskly, and finished her drink in one quick gulp before walking up the stairs calmly.
When the night elf was out of sight, Dotolo glared at the huge rogue.
“It took us months to get you to trust me and Soto when I met you, and yet you give an Alliance assassin a map to your house after one day?!” the Death Knight growled in Zandali.
“I saw what she did to you, if she wanted she could find our home without a map. And I’d rather be up front with her type than looking over my shoulder wondering when she’d come to collect. You don’t want to be in debt to people like her.”
“Except we are,” Dotolo sighed, pressing a palm into his forehead.
“And Sai and your whelp would be in worse shape if we weren’t,” Xan countered, turning to leave and head back to the healer’s hut to be with the rest of his siblings. “C’mon ‘Tolo. Sai’s been asking about you.”
The next morning, instead of the glaring faces of the gnome and the night elf brandishing knives at him, demanding that they pay them now, Dotolo was greeted merely by a note, pinned to his inn door by an elven throwing dagger. It read in orcish, “One year. Thandol Span. Don’t be late.” It was signed in Darnassian and Gnomish, and it was slightly distressing how Teegan signed her name, or what he assumed was her name, with little hearts that appeared to be on fire.
“Gods ‘n loa, what have I done?” Dotolo muttered to himself, but pocketed the note and went down to collect his mate and in-laws.
“I’m surprised you accepted their deal,” Teegan said as they passed the final warning sign that marked the entrance to Booty Bay. “Normally you’d gut the weasels and be done with it.”
“It wouldn’t be worth it. I’ll bet you anything 20 gold is most if not all that they make most times they make this trek. Besides, they may be bigoted asses, but they’re not stupid,” Armesan said, fully back in her proper armor, riding atop Selgassi who was finally back in his rightful armor as well. “I get the impression the shaman’s brothers want to square away their debt and be done with us as quick as possible.”
“That’s gratitude for ya,” Teegan sighed.
“It’ll make for some interesting stories, at least. Though I do hope you plan to brush up on your orcish before then. I refuse to be your translator for that entire trek,” the night elf chided. Teegan waved her off.
“Yeah, yeah. Look, if I wanted to become a linguist, I’d have joined the Explorer’s League.”
“You already speak demonic and common.”
“Those are talents! Like I want to know what ‘zug zug’ means.”