In Want for a Wand

by Leila Drake

Level 11 - Under the Bridge

The river came in sight on the next day, a narrow buff colored band that sat in a deep gap between the brown cliffs. Arcus eyed the chasm suspiciously.

"That place looks dirty", he commented dryly. "So how are we gonna get across?"

"There is no safe way to get down from a cliff as steep as this one", said Darren.

Jonathan gave him an annoyed look. "Any suggestions?"

The knight simply jerked his head towards his mount. The griffin perked up and squawked.

Twilight swallowed audibly. "Do we have to?"

Arcus sighed. He had to find an alternative, and quickly. He was not eager to climb the undead creature at all, just thinking of it made his insides turn. "Well, you don't, having wings yourself. The bird can't carry us through the air like the bats could. Look, it's too small for all of us at once. Jon, isn't there another way?"

Jonathan rubbed his chin. "Maybe it can carry just two at once?"

"There is a bridge. If I recall correctly, it is about two miles south, down the river", hinted Darren.

"That sounds way better to me", said Arcus.

Jonathan grinned. "I thought you liked to fly?"

"I don't think I'm ready to fly on a mount on my own." Arcus raised a hoof to point at the griffin. "Especially a dead one. In the cold. Let's be realistic, I might fall off halfway across the river. You don't wanna fish me out of the stream, do you?"

"We could tie you to the saddle", said Twilight, the corner of her mouth twitching. A sudden urge to tell her to shove it took hold of Arcus. He hoped that Twilight had not seen his face twitch.

"Darren said, 'two miles'", Jonathan reminded her.

"Right", nodded Twilight. "Well, let's go there before we waste anymore time discussing it."

"Yes, please", said Arcus quickly.

As the four of them descended the mountainside on a path parallel to the river, everyone busy watching their steps, Twilight tried to spot the bridge. She flapped her wings, wincing as the cold ruffled her coat, and hovered above the others.

"I can see it!", she exclaimed. "It's really massive and made of stone. The right tower is destroyed."

"Does it look stable?", called Jonathan up to her.

"Yes, I'm pretty sure", she answered. "But the land beyond looks terrible." She landed, wrapping herself tightly in her cloak. "It's all brown and foggy and full of dead trees. I can't see very far."

"Yep, sounds like the Eastern Plaguelands all right", commented Jonathan happily.

"Ew", said Arcus.

"Not yet, Arc", grinned Jonathan. "This is still just 'meh'. 'Ew' comes later, and then 'Uarchrch'..."

"I get it", Arcus interrupted him. "Thanks for the heads up." He could not help but smirk.

"It's only an hour until sundown", worried Twilight. "Should we spend the night on this side and cross in the morning?"

"Makes sense, the air is better here", agreed Jonathan. Twilight made a muffled sound, something between a gasp and a hum.

"Twilight? You okay?" Arcus stepped closer, eyeing her with concern.

The alicorn blinked. "Yes, I just got startled. Maybe a raindrop that fell on my nose." She threw a glance upwards. "It sure is cloudy enough."

"But not warm enough", gave Arcus back.

She shook her head. "Maybe I was wrong."

"Nope." Now Jonathan was tilting his head backwards. "I felt one, too. It's not rain, though, it's snow."

"Well, crap", concluded Arcus.

Jonathan's face lit up. "Hey, maybe we can seek shelter under the bridge!", he suggested.

"If the water is not too high." Darren raised his palm. Arcus wondered if that was his version of a shrug.

Jonathan pointed at the bridge. "Almost there", said the priest.

They picked up the pace.

•°

The trees around the bridge were brown and dead. Twilight was glad that a fresh wind came from the West, keeping the presumably foul air in the East.

Darren led them off the road and down to the water. The knight had been right; thanks to the lack of rain, the water was shallow at this point, leaving some space between the bank and the river. The bridge took the part of a roof, protecting them from the snow which was now falling for real.

Jonathan and Darren went off to find some firewood while Arcus and Twilight cleaned up the ground beneath the bridge. Arcus kicked some bones into the river. Twilight removed most of the bigger stones and arranged the remaining ones in a small circle. She drew the sunflower from her saddlebags and put her on the ground. The flower instantly turned her head towards the setting sun, soaking up the last bits of daylight.

"Sorry you had to wait so long, Clara", apologized Twilight. "But even though I promised to carry you with me, I can't hold you in my magic all the time. I hope the last breadcrums didn't get into your pot." She floated a tin cup towards the river and filled it with muddy water, then poured it onto Clara's earth. The flower scrunched up her face in disgust but it was still obvious that she needed the refreshment.

"Hey, Clara." Arcus took the pot into his hooves and smiled at the recovering flower. She smiled back at him. "I wonder what you would say if you could talk."

"She would probably ask for water more often", said Twilight, casting a meaningful look in the direction that the humans had gone.

"Maybe. But you know what, I'd teach her all my swearwords", beamed Arcus. "Like 'horseapples', 'ponyfeathers', 'Luna's rump' - "

"Okay, I get the idea", Twilight interrupted him. "Maybe she can actually talk so please, Arcus, don't tell her those."

"Too late, Princess, too late." Arcus grinned, unfurling his blankets. "Squishy chanter", he whispered to Clara.

"Stallions", muttered Twilight under her breath.

•°

Darren and Jonathan, burdened with firewood, returned to the bridge.

"So", said Jonathan, "you joined us on the Fifth, right?"

"That is correct", replied Darren. He was carrying twice as much firewood as Jonathan. "Why do you ask?"

"Nevermind, just wondering." A distant cry made Jonathan stop dead in his tracks. He frowned. "Was that Twilight?"

Darren carelessly dropped his pile and drew his sword. "I believe so." He ran towards the river, his long legs carrying him ahead at an impressive speed.

Jonathan dropped his own pile of wood and dashed after him.

"Twilight?" Jonathan shouted at the top of his voice but there was no answer.

"Hush! We do not know who is with them", scolded Darren.

"Let's split up", ordered Jonathan, running around the end of the bridge. They approached the camp from both sides. A sense of Déjà-vu came over Jonathan as he saw who was fighting Twilight.

Arcus was lying on the ground, unconscious. He must have given the blue-skinned stranger some trouble; the troll had a black eye that clashed with his scarlet mohawk. He limped despite his heavy green leather armor. Did Arcus kick his knee? Probably not; the troll wouldn't be able to stand up if that had happened. A small stream of dark smudge went down from his left leg - so that's why he was limping. He was trying to overpower Twilight. She kept shooting beams and arcane missiles at him while deflecting the strikes from his humongous axe with a forcefield that flickered and crackled every time the weapon hit it. When the troll noticed Jonathan, he grunted with frustration and redoubled his efforts, hammering at Twilight's shield bubble with a vengeance. Her face was scrunched up in concentration as she focused on keeping the forcefield stable.

Jonathan whispered a prayer. A sphere of clear light engulfed him, its golden glow reflecting on the troll's armor.

"Leave her alone!" demanded the priest.

The troll, if only by surprise, halted his attacks and gaped at Jonathan. His tusked mouth stood slightly open. Then he quickly gathered his wits again and pointed at Jonathan with his axe.

"Yo, ya can't be speakin' Orcish!" He was using the same language, though, if only with a strange accent. "Ya be a human. Wat's yar business wit' dose two horsies? Talk - before I mince dem into stew!" The axe was now pointing at Darren.

Jonathan, unable to shake the feeling that the troll could shoot lightning from his hands if he wanted to, lowered his hands very slowly. He didn't go as far as to release the sphere, though.

Darren lowered his sword a little.

"They belong with us", said Jonathan. "Now, if you lower your weapon, I'll explain."

Twilight's eyes went from one to the other. She opened her mouth to say something but Darren shook his head very slightly, even though his ice blue eyes still pierced the troll.

"Be quick den", said the troll. The message was clear; he had realized he was outnumbered. It made sense that he was ready to listen.

Now that Jonathan had to say more than just one sentence, nervousness returned.

"I - I am actually a member of the Horde", he stammered. "See the colors we're wearing?"

"Blue and purple, I see dem alright. So wat of it? Suicidal fashion choice in dese lands... but hardly proof ta me." Jonathan remained in his cautious pose, waiting for the bit to drop.

"Oh...", mouthed the troll finally. "Ya be Forsaken? Don' look very dead ta me..." He raised his axe again. "Ya can't deceive me! I ain't stupid! The Forsaken be undead. But you be breathing. Nice try, puny human!"

He can actually call me that, thought Jonathan, looking up at the troll who was at least one foot taller than him - and not even standing upright.

Twilight's shield disappeared and she collapsed on the ground, breathing heavily.

Jonathan could not help it, the troll seemed familiar to him. Trolls, trolls... when had he been working with trolls? He chose to attempt a shot into the blue.

"Is there any chance you've been in Northrend about four years ago?", he asked.

"Five", corrected the troll. "But my past be not in question here, yours is."

Darren shifted his weight. The last sunbeams reflected off his sword, wandering over the troll's face.

"What is your name?", asked the Death Knight.

He didn't get the pronounciation quite right, analyzed Jonathan automatically. Good thing that his Common wasn't as rusty as Darren's Orcish. That could have been a problem in Andorhal.

The troll straightened up and proudly declared, "I be Vol'Shalai of da Darkspear Tribe."

"You're kidding." Jonathan dropped his light shield, letting the glimmering shine dissolve, and stared at the troll. "Vol'Shalai. That's why you're so familiar. Holy shit, this is great! How've you been, man?" A smile split his face, even though the troll raised his axe again, a vein on his forehead pulsating dangerously.

"Chill, Vol'Shalai! It's me, Priest!" Jonathan pulled back his hood, revealing his face and white hair.

"By da Loa! But... but ya be alive! How... how can ya be da same guy?"

Twilight opened her eyes. She was still too exhausted to stay upright but she could still listen to everything. Now that the troll had gone from aggression to confusion, she took the chance. "Trust me, he is", she said. "He even mentioned you a while ago."

"Proof it, den I might believe ya for real."

"The - the fastest way to a man's heart is through his ribcage", she stammered.

"Hah!" The troll's menacing snarl turned into an equally menacing grin and he chuckled, then burst into roaring laughter. "Fine, ya clothie horsie, dere be no way ya coulda made dat up. Same goes for you, Priest." He set his axe on the ground.

"So you believe us?" Jonathan raised an eyebrow.

"Ya still be unhurt, right?"

"Whatever. Well, I go by Jonathan now. It's, uh, it's my actual name." Jonathan exhaled slowly. The tension slowly fell from his body. He was beginning to realize that he should probably run more often to stay fit. There was a suspiscious sting just below his ribcage, probably from the dash towards the bridge. Jonathan roughly pointed in the death knight's direction. "This is Darren Houndslayer."

The knight nodded and sheathed his sword. He did not uncover his face, though.

"Twilight Sparkle...", continued Jonathan. Twilight finally staggered to her hooves, scrambling over to her unconscious friend.

"Arcus. Arcus?", she pleaded, gently slapping his cheek.

"... and Arcus Tangens. I swear, if he's..."

"Oh shaddap, I be no savage and demolish de horsies so quick. Jus' knocked him out wit' de flat side of de axe. He's prob'ly done more damage ta me anyway."

Jonathan slipped past Vol'Shalai, kneeling down next to Twilight. He fingered at Arcus's throat to feel for the pulse.

"He be fine, just unconscious.", insisted Vol'Shalai. "If I had known dey be Horde... Truly sorry, mon."

"Don't apologize to me", retorted Jonathan, raising his eyebrows. Then he returned his full attention to Arcus, patting his cheek to bring him back to consciousness.

Arcus's legs moved slowly. "G-guys?", he muttered, his eyes fluttering open, then shifting around in confusion as he became more alert.

To Twilight's surprise, Darren exhaled audibly as he saw that Arcus was conscious again.

Twilight and Jonathan sighed and smiled at each other. Jonathan muttered some encouraging words to Arcus. The earth pony frowned at Vol'Shalai but Jonathan discreetly shook his head and explained the situation to him.

Twilight's ear twitched towards a papery rustling next to her hoof. She looked down. Clara's pot had fallen over, some of its contents spilled across the ground. The flower flailed its vines around, trying its best to push the pot upright.

"Oh dear", muttered Twilight. She took the pot into her magic, now completely ignoring the troll, and quickly gathered the dirt that had fallen out. She stuffed it back into the pot. The flower shook her head in annoyance.

Vol'Shalai snickered. "Ya got a sunflower wit' ya?"

Jonathan rolled his eyes. "It was a gift for re-earthing some zombies", he said flatly.

The troll's eyes widened. "Oh, I see, ya still be slaying yar kind."

"They're not my kind", retorted Jonathan through gritted teeth. "They're Scourge... leftovers. And besides, they attacked us." His ears were getting suspisciously hot.

"Chill, mon. Jus' wanted ta start a conversation. Pity your sense'a humor be as rusty as ever." Vol'Shalai raised an eyebrow. He crouched down by the fire, throwing a glance at Darren who returned the stare. Jonathan felt the daggers even though the knight's hood hid his eyes. A cold wave ran down his back.

Right, Jonathan thought. Whatever Darren said, he was probably still Alliance in his mind. The way he carried himself, how he had talked to the people in Andorhal...

When did he die anyway? In the Scourge War, as a knight who fought alongside Arthas before he became the Lich King? And what killed him? Yes, it was most likely the plague... or the Scourge itself, but it consisted of many species, trolls included. Or was it that Darren simply didn't trust Vol'Shalai because it was his job? He was hired as their guide. Obliviousness was not a useful trait if you wanted to survive. It was probably a good guess that Darren wasn't on the best terms with Blood Elves either.

Jonathan sighed, deciding to put his questions on hold for the time being, and rummaged in Twilight's saddlebags to get the cooking pot.

•°

Vol'Shalai watched Priest as he prepared a soup in a small cauldron he had taken from Twilight Sparkle's bag. As the water started boiling - the green horsie had helped with starting a fire - the troll used the waiting time to clean his axe. He didn't know why but the work always helped him to get his thoughts sorted.

First, he uncorked a small bottle made of a turtle shell and poured some of the colorless cleaning paste onto the blade. Vol'Shalai took the cleaning rag and started at the middle, working his way to the upper tips of his axe. He eyed the two horsies. No, ponies. They were talking to the slim human, asking him questions about the Horde. It was obviously not the first time they talked about it.

The Priest... whether Jonathan really was his name or not, "Priest" was obviously his class. He could easily answer all of Vol'Shalai's questions. His knowledge of the Horde and of the Orcish language was so extensive and detailed that Vol'Shalai started to genuinely believe him. A regular Alliance cur didn't know anything about the different troll tribes or how to cook a soup based on a recipe of the Bloodhoof Tauren.

The purple pony, Twilight, had an insatiable thirst for knowledge. Mages... they all were basically the same, regardless of species. Vol'Shalai felt tempted to ask Twilight for a Mana Strudel just to see how she would react. Whenever he had asked his sister-in-law to conjure food, she tended to get irritable. One time, she had conjured a mace instead and would have tried to slam it into his face if Miwemba had not stopped her arm.

He chuckled, getting a confused glare from the green one. It was a male, judging by his voice and name, and the way he moved suggested that he was used to wearing plate armor. The barding, however, was still new, maybe a few weeks, half a year tops. Vol'Shalai frowned.

Ah, nice, the first half of the axe was clean... he turned the blade around and started wiping the other side.

The death knight was kind of a wild card. He didn't seem like the Horde type. So he was probably a mercenary. Hopefully that wouldn't bite Vol'Shalai in the ass as soon as he closed his eyes. Plus, the cold stare he got from the guy gave him the creeps. It was unnatural. Typical dead peeps.

Vol'Shalai decided to summon a few wards before sleeping. Just to be on the safe side.

"Dinner", said Jonathan curtly.

"Yay!", cheered Arcus, raising his head and ears. He still looked a little groggy, his mane damp from the fight.

Twilight, smiling broadly, floated her tin cup over to Jonathan who poured her some soup.

"The one good thing about snow", he said, "is that we've got fresh water."

Vol'Shalai, still crouching at the same spot by the fire, grunted his approval. His eyebrows went up when Jonathan gave him his own tin.

"Huh? What 'bout yaself? Not hungry?"

"Of course I am. But we only have one cup each. So don't eat too slowly, okay?" The priest grinned.

The troll eyed the soup and sniffed it with his long nose. He had watched Jonathan cook it so he was sure it was not poisoned. Plus, Twilight and Arcus were already eating it. That didn't ensure a good taste, though. He slowly raised the cup to his lips and took a sip - then drowned the whole thing in one big gulp.

He noticed that everyone had gotten quiet. Arcus and Twilight stared at him, their mouths slightly open.

"What?" He raised his eyebrows.

"Uh, er, nothing", lied Twilight, quickly looking down at her soup.

Jonathan didn't bat an eye and took the time to accept the cup back and fill it with his own portion.

"Don't tell me we're this close to running out. No offense, but that portion was tiny." Arcus frowned.

Twilight slurped up her soup and grimaced.

"All right, I suppose I could conjure some food tonight... again..." She scrunched up her nose and focused her magic. Her horn aglow, she frowned at the blanket she was sitting on. With a pop as bright as silver bells, four cupcakes appeared on the blanket. They all had different frosting. She floated the chocolate one over to Jonathan, the one with sugar sprinkles to Arcus. Both ate their sugary treat more slowly than usual. Vol'Shalai got a cupcake with white sugar frosting. He took it from Twilight's magic aura and eyed it suspisciously, turning it in his three-fingered hand.

"Is... is everything all right?", Twilight asked timidly. "Are they tasting weird?"

"They're... okay", said Jonathan, his eyebrows knit together. He attempted to smile with closed lips.

"Well, a bit bland to be honest", admitted Arcus. He swallowed hard, forcing the entire cupcake down in one big gulp.

Twilight's ears went down. She took a careful bite from her own cupcake and snorted. "I'm sorry, the journey is taking its toll on my imagination. The taste of Pinkie's cupcakes is slipping away from my memory with each Mana Cupcake I conjure up."

Vol'Shalai, who had watched quietly, smirked.

"Ya be de first Mage I ever met ta apologize for her food", he observed.

Twilight's ears were so far back that they almost disappeared in her mane. "Really? Is it that bad? Do the other mages usually summon better food?"

"No. But if ya complain, dey get pissed and ya don' wanna piss of yar, uh, food-conjuring-guy." He nodded sagely, then threw his cupcake into his mouth, chewed quickly and swallowed, all within five seconds.

"Twilight Sparkle, vending machine extraordinaire", snorted Arcus. "Today you get two for the price of one. Get your cupcake as long as they're still - ah, nevermind", he interrupted himself as Twilight's glare bore through him.

Jonathan finished his cupcake. "All right, so we're gonna wait until tomorrow, then cross the bridge."

Darren, who was standing at the edge of the bridge, looking out into the falling snow, turned around.

"I will stand guard."

Jonathan nodded. "As usual... thanks."

The knight sighed. "There is no need to thank me every time."

"Still gonna do it." Jonathan raised his eyebrows at Darren and smirked. "I'm paying you so I can thank you as often as I want."

"Noted", said Darren and averted his hooded face again.

Arcus rolled his eyes. He nudged Twilight.

"He complains but he did notice it", he whispered to her, grinning.

The alicorn nodded and smiled to herself.

•°

Darren paced up and down. After weeks of doing that, he usually didn't even notice it. Today, however, he was very aware of it. Four steps until the edge of the bridge, then turning left around the tower. Down until he was on the other side of the camp. Around the sleeping group, close to the edge of the river so the water's murmur would cover the clinking of his armor. Repeat.

Not that his armor was very loud. He took good care of it after all, and the plate segments were inwardly padded with leather and cloth. It was just that the ponies had sensitive ears and woke up more easily than humans. At least that was the theory - Twilight Sparkle had a very deep sleep, maybe because she only slept six hours per day, less than Arcus Tangens. The young warrior slept more but also awoke more easily. Baker had the deepest sleep - and was often the loudest. Sometimes his snoring was so noisy that Darren had considered asking Twilight to cast a spell against it.

The truth was: He didn't want to make them think that it annoyed him. It was not his place, not as hired muscle. Even if he was beginning to enjoy their company, especially the earth pony's. Arcus had a sense of humor that was not as plain as Mr Baker's but more dry, he showed an interest in tactics and the way he kept asking questions reminded Darren of his youngest son. He was not sure whether the memory was more of a painful or a pleasant one but he chose to settle for the latter.

Darren stopped and eyed the opposite river bank. There was no movement, the only sound being the water from the river. The wind had changed; a foul smell drifted over to the camp and offended his nose more than his own stench.

The snow stopped falling. Darren sat down to rest for a few moments. The pain was getting worse again, a pinching sensation in his guts along with a dull hammering between his ears, accompanied by the usual turning stomach. He removed a glove and rubbed his forehead and temples, forcing himself to sit upright just to maintain his dignity before himself. The intervals were getting shorter and he didn't need a scientist to figure out the reason. They were nearing the necropolis.

He would have to kill again soon.

Author's Note:

Comments

[ProjectRabbid]

I wanna play again.