AN: I don't own Warcraft or anything.

Ganked

Chapter 1 - The Trap

Nienna could point to the exact moment that drove her from the warm, friendly confines of Goldshire into the unpredictable outside world. It was two years ago, when Koblods attacked her lakeside home and made it their residence. She barely managed to escape, aided by the older woman who adopted her from the Stormwind orphanage shortly after the war.

But it was not her true home. Her journey began long before that. Even after finding her place with that older woman, who was a bit of a magician and taught her the basics of the arcane arts, she had never settled there. At last that is what she told herself. The truth was a bit different, but she would not learn that lesson until later.

Now, blue eyes scanned the frozen hills of Winterspring. Yet another unfamiliar path that she must cross to find her lost place in the world. But this was not the place for her. No, this was just another unfamiliar land filled with cursed beasts and creatures who aggressively attacked without question.

"Nienna, stop dodling!" Cyrus, the leader of the group, ordered.

She urged her black stallion forward and followed the rag-tag band through the winter paths to the small neutral village of Everlook.

Cyrus, a tall brawny man of forty, was their leader. He was a Warrior, originally a smith by trade but war and a dead family forced him into battle. His short brown, cropped hair, sharp black eyes, and angular nose reflected his no-nonsense personality. A practical man, he was constantly ragging on Nienna, who, as most mages, tended to be a little dreamy.

"Mages are such a bother!" he growled as he glared at her with a severe eye.

A sharp scar ran down the side of his cheek, from his temple to chin, making his scowl even more pronounced. But she knew he was merely acting with concern. It would do no good if the weakest of their members were to fall to the behind, making herself vulnerable to attack and endangering the whole group.

"Yes, sir," she said. "Forgive me."

"Really," Skinflint, a dwarf mounted on his giant silver ram, said with an exasperated sigh. "I don't want ta have ta save ya yet another time lass. I'm gettin' tired of reviving' ya."

His great black beard flowed to his stomach, braided on two sides and contrasting sharply with the silvers sheen of his armor.

Nienna blushed with mortification as kept her eyes glued on her horse's black mane. The Paladin was correct and she could not deny it. Of course, it did not help that she was not only the only girl of their group, but she was also the youngest and least experienced at the young age of eighteen. Also, the other three did not care for magic users. Most of the time, they treated her more like an annoying little sister than a partner in their team. It didn't help that she had advertised her services as a competent and reliable mage, but had proved herself to be anything but. Also, she was notoriously bad at directions, forever getting lost if someone was not there to guide her.

"Be patient," the fourth member of her group, a night elf druid said. "Some trees grow slowly but they always mature in their time."

She hated his patience and "wisdom" more than anything else. Really, did any creature have any business being so damnably calm.

The current mission involved taking a particular parcel to someone who lived in the small, snow locked town of Everlook. It didn't matter to them what was in the parcel or to whom it would be delivered as long as they were paid. While there, they would pick up more missions as mercenaries, usually involving taking care of the local fauna, who had been unusually aggressive as of late in every area they traveled. They would most like stay at the nearby inn, generally a cramped, stank place that offered no privacy, before heading on to their way.

Wisps of white appeared with every breath, a testament to the cold chill that encased the land. Winterspring was forever flowing with snow, so high was it nestled in the mountains. Although suffering from an affinity to warm weather, she greatly preferred Winterspring to their last area of adventure. It was a dark place filled with foul smelling slime pits, diseased animals and roaming demons. Aptly named Felwood, she hoped to never cross its winding, cursed paths again.

"Ah! Reminds me o' home!" Skinflint exclaimed with happiness as he breathed in the frozen wind deeply.

"You would love this frozen wasteland," Deverell remarked. "I, on the other hand, prefer the lush forests of Ashenvale."

"Hmph, na creature in his right mind could dismiss th' beauty o' snow cover'd peaks, ya overgrown faerie."

Ashara, Devenell's feline mount, blew out an impatient sniff at the dwarf's impertinence.

"Only someone whose nose is perpetually glued to mud would not appreciate the life which courses through the my homeland, tainted though it may be."

"Ther' ya go again, broodin' about yer homeland as though none o' the others have anythin' ta worry over!"

"Silence, dwarf! I tire of your yammering."

"And I tire o' yer elfin airs!"

Nienna was only mildly concerned. Most likely, Denevell was pulling on Skinflint's chain since he enjoyed angering the short-tempered dwarf and the dwarf was taking the opportunity to give him a few jabs of is own. This was a common argument. In about three seconds, Cyrus would become annoyed and silence the two.

On queue, Cyrus turned back to them and growled, "That's enough you two. What am I leading, a band of murlocks?"

That ended the altercation abruptly, and the men merely laughed as they continued on their way. Nienna was puzzled by this strange world of men, who seemed to form alliances after warring with each other at the drop of a hat. This would be very different if the group was comprised of women. They would merely continue making snide comments and pretend the argument never happened. Later, they would talk about each other behind their backs.

A few moments later, Denevell's sensitive ears picked an approaching party. He alerted everyone at once with a quiet.

"A group approaches. They are also comprised of four members."
"Friends or foe?" Cyrus asked.

Denevell's luminous eyes examined the road ahead but he shook his head with frustration. "The light reflected from the snow is blinding me. I cannot see them."

"Useless elf!" Skinflint exclaimed as he lowered himself from the mount and pressed his ears against the ground. "Th' earth can tell what yer eyes can't see!"

"Well?" Cyrus asked with impatience. "What is the earth telling you?"
"She's sayin' there be four of 'em," he replied.

"Which is what I said," Denevell remarked impatiently.

"Shet up! An' she sayin' there be one wolf, wit 'em."

"A hunter!" Nienna exclaimed.

"Or an orc mount," Cyrus murmured gravely.

"No, th' lass be right. There be two o' 'em wolves, one harse and one cretur' tha' walks on hind legs!"

"Blood elves or trolls!" Denevell growled, loathing either prospect.

"A Forsaken!" Nienna exclaimed, feeling a twinge of fear.

All four of them readied their weapons and prepared the necessary spells, the dwarf and elf suddenly feeling more intelligent, while she felt herself protected with a chain of invisible thorns.

"We are in no position to fight," Cyrus murmured. "But if they do have a Forsaken with them, we may have no choice."

"It be important ta keep th' charge in mind," Skinflint declared. "It would do no good ta have th' note stolen an' not git commission."

"Indeed, Everlook marks this territory as neutral, even if those in power quarrel over every inch."
"It makes me sick to think such creatures could walk upon it this ground."
"I thought ya hated it 'ere!"

"I love all nature," Denevell said gravely.
"A little convenient don't ya think, lass?"

Nienna giggled despite herself, helping ease the tension.

When the party came in sight, they became relieved at once. Not only was the volatile forsaken not among the party, as the horse was ridden by a blood elf paladin, but also the actual party consisted of only three, besides the pet wolf. Since they were in no mood to fight, and the Horde were outnumbered, there was little chance of a conflict.

A grim-faced orc hunter led the Horde party. He was bearded, with pallid green skin and brown eyes that belied a long life of conflict and loss. He rode his formidable mount with straight back pride. Fur-lined armor, heavier than his two companions, clearly spoke of his hatred for the cold. The two leaders exchanged polite but curt nods as they passed each other on the road.

The female elf wore her volumes of blonde hair in a loose bun over her head, with a small strand of it hanging on side. A black and maroon velvet coat cascaded down her shoulders, and her black gown, equally luxurious, was worn with fashionable ease. She was marked with elegant poise and did not even glance their way as she passed them by.

The last one of the troop, male blood elf, was a slight oddity. Unlike most of his race, he wore his hair short and spiked. It was also black instead of the usual red or blond. His armor and weapons were almost identical to Skinflint's, although the fashion ignorant dwarf barely noticed.

As he passed them by, his haughty green eyes met Nienna's, and he gave her a sly wink before they disappeared down the road. No one else caught it so she did not receive the relentless teasing such a gesture would produce.

"Hmph," she muttered to herself with a flustered blush.

"I didn't know you had a thing for elves, Nienna," Denevell whispered to her a few moments later.

"Hush, Denevell," she replied. "I wasn't flustered because he was cute…I mean…"

"Careful wi' them 'orde elves, lass," Skinflint advised.

"I didn't…"
"They may be beautiful, but trust me, they always have a knife at their backs. Quite a shame too," Cyrus interjected. "I fought along side them many times when they were the High Elves. Some of the Blood Elves I see now were once my comrades. They've been corrupted by their love of magic."

"I said I didn't think anything of it!"

"O' what, lass?"
"I mean, I didn't think anything of him," she replied hurriedly, not wanting to tell them of how the blood elf flirted.

They delivered the note and as expected, they received very little in return. Certainly, it was not enough to cover the costs of days of travel, which included sleeping outdoors, battles with evil goo, and the ever-present Horde.

"I think we should stick around an' kill us some Yeti fer pelts," Skinflint mused, echoing everyone's thought on the matter.

"And that Tauren wishes us to hunt us a bear," Denevell said.
"Let's get on with it," Cyrus commanded wearily. "We can pluck some of those Owlkin for feathers and sell them as pens. We must make up the money we spent on this expedition somehow."

"Awww…I'll be the one doing it too," Nienna whined.

"No whining from ya, lass," Skinflint warned. "We 'ave enough o' that 'ere with Denevell."

"I beg your pardon!" Denevell declared with indignation.

"Beg all you want, faerie, ya ain't gonna get it!"

To her dismay, the Horde party was also staying at the lone inn in Everlook and also hunting for pelts and plucking feathers. A tenuous understanding passed between them. It was decided without much interaction that they would leave each other alone and hunt in separate fields. In the mornings, the goblin innkeeper would serve them slabs of barely cooked meat, which everyone but the elves and Nienna would devour with relish.

The dynamic between the Horde was interesting and Nienna watched with fascination. The elves kept to themselves, seemingly disdaining the company of the leader, who seemed to think little of them as well. She also noted the wolf got the leader's best chunks of meat. She thought the wolf's name was cute, GulbGlug. Once, when the wolf was left alone with her, she ventured to pet him and found him quite friedly.

Denevell and the Blood Elves pretended they were not in each other's company, but the hostility born after thousands of years was palatable by all those who sat at the table.

During their week's stay, the blood elf male continued to make small passes at her, winking, smiling at her haughtily and getting her attention with small gestures. At first, she tried ignoring all of this, concentrating on mending her clothes after their excursions, or studying her spells. But she could not help but notice him and if she encouraged his attention with a small gesture here and a giggle there, no one brought it to her attention. In fact both the Horde and Alliance teammates either did not notice or pretended not to notice and left them alone.

One day she was alone at the armory, as Skinflint needed to have his axe fixed by the goblin smithy. As usual, she was the one stuck with the chore. As she sat near the foundry, waiting for the weapon to be fixed, the blood elf entered the building. His green eyes surveyed the surroundings with hautines until they stopped on her small frame. A tiny smile crossed his lips when he saw her and noted her discomfort at seeing him.

Nienna pretended not to notice as he saundered in, and sat at her chair with stubborn silence. The elf presented the goblin with his sword, and gave the smith directions in the guttural tongue of orcs. This got her attention and she watched his back as the lithe, youthful elf spoke in a tongue that was completely foreign to him. It seemed wrong, almost criminal that such a beautiful creature should be forced such rough, course speech.

The goblin answered in kind, his high-pitched accent making the ordinarily rough orc tongue completely unbearable. She was polite enough not to grimace, although the blood caugh her distaste when he turned to take his place. He smiled slightly as she struggled to keep up appearances. Watching her amused him.

Even though there were many chairs at the blacksmiths' that were available for customers as they waited for their wares to be fixed, he took the empty chair to her right. Although she certainly did not want to sit beside him, regardless of the slight flutter in her stomach that said otherwise, she did not move because she wanted to maintain an environment of peace. Yes, that was it. She wished only for peace. That is why she did not change chairs as she should have when he sat beside her and leaned a little too close.

The elf removed an apple from his pocket and rubbed it against his coat several times, giving her a playful glance as he did so and made sure she was watching. His green eyes were focused on her like a hawk. And to her mortification, she was fascinated by the way his hands moved as they rubbed the apple against its coat. Then, he offered it to her.

She turned her head with a huff, making it perfectly clear that she wanted nothing whatever to do with him or his food. The elf seemed completely unfazed by her rejection and merely grabbed her hand and placed the apple within it.

"How dare you!" she cried and turned to him with all her furry.

He smirked as he took her hand, along with the apple, lifted it to his face and took a bite. Nienna was so shocked she did not move as he continued to eat from her hand, his mouth and tongue inching dangerously close to her fingers. And at that moment, she became acutely aware of the warmth that emanated from his body. It felt so comforting in that cold and chilly weather.

After spending a few moments frozen in flustered shock, she rose up with a start and flung the apple away. The elf merely whipped away some of the juice from his mouth and licked his fingers.

"You bastard!" she cried as she left the building with a huff. She would just pick up the axe later.

"Those silly elves and humans cause no end of trouble," the goblin blacksmith told his assistant in goblin tongue. "But that girl is as naïve as they come."

The next day, Nienna asked Cyrus if they were going any time soon. The reply that Cyrus gave her was rather cryptic, "You are not ready to leave yet."

"What do you mean I'm not ready to leave?" She demanded. "I can kill any Yeti or bear or what have you that comes my way. And I am sick and tired of killing of Owlkin."

"Listen, when the time comes, you will understand. But for now, we will stay here. I am planning on going to the newly awakened Outlands with this group, and I want to take you with us. But for you to survive that dangerous place, there are certain lessons you must learn."

"Stop treating me as a child!"

That is when the elf entered the inn, pausing ever so slightly at the door and giving her a playful glance before making his way to his cot at the other end of the room.

Nienna did her best to remain unaffected, but she could not help but catch her breath at his gaze and her eyes desperately wanted to trail him as he crossed the room.

"Fine!" she cried. "I'm going hunting on my own. I'll prove to you just how strong I am."
"It's dangerous for a mage like you, Nienna," Cyrus said. "Let me prepare…"
"No you won't! And if I run into Denevell and Skinflint, I'll tell them to bugger off!"

Cyrus sighed and shook his head as she stormed off to the stables, probably to get her horse before making her way out.

"Should we watch 'er?" Skinflint asked from across the room.

"No, let her be."

"It's amazing how distracted she was," Denevell mused. "She did not note we were here. Are all human females so easily swayed?"
"No," Cyrus replied as he glanced at the blood elf, who was safely in his side of the room, with disdain. "Just her."

Skinflint bristled when he noticed the blood elf male stand up and casually leave the inn.

"I know where he's going an' I won't let 'im!"

"No," Cyrus commanded. "She needs to learn this lesson on her own."

The two other horde members were not in the room and Skinflint felt worry hit his gut.

"She's gonna get ganked!"

"Maybe," Denevell mused. "But there is no reason to believe they will do it today. They may just be biding their time."

Nienna took her horse and rushed east on a whim. She would just kill off those insufferable Owlkin and take out her frustration on them.

The cold, crisp wind that bit at her exposed face did nothing to quell her restlessness or to soother her confused mind. She breathed in the air to calm herself.

"The hot springs," she murmured.

In her distraction, she did not notice someone follow her to her destination. When she arrived, which was a few minutes later than expected as she took a wrong turn at the fork, Nienna secured her horse in a nearby tree and was about to start her hunt when her black stallion neighed softy. He felt an approaching man and wanted to warn her, but she told him to hush. He shook his head with frustration and neighed once again, bobbing his head up and down and wishing he could speak common.

"What's wrong with you, Tobi?" she asked.

That's when she felt someone poke her shoulder. Her reaction was less than stellar. Instead of turning around and preparing for battle, she jumped three feet in the air and landed on her face rather unceremoniously in a pile of snow. When she landed, she heard the liquid tone of elfin laughter. She pushed herself up and turned her head, only to see the blood elf giggling at the mischief he had caused. His luminous green eyes darted too and fro before he leaned down and extended his hand.

"Hmph, as though I would accept help from the likes of you," she declared haughtily as she tried in vain to raise herself.

"Too good enough for me, eh?" he asked.

Her eyes widened when she heard him speak.

"You can speak common?"
"Of course we can," he replied with a crooked smile. "We were allied with humans for hundreds of years. Do you think we would forget after six? Now, be a sweet heart and let me help you up."

She extended her hand without thinking and then allowed herself to be lifted, finding that she was pushed up a little too close to the elf for her liking.

"But you must promise not to tell a soul," he said with a wink. "It's a heavily guarded secret."

The last phrase was whispered in her ear and he made sure his breath grazed her neck gently. The sensation sent shivers up her spine and she blushed furiously.

"Well, you don't have to worry about it," she said, feeling the traitor. "Your secret is safe with me."

He smiled at her warmly, disarming her at once and she giggled nervously.

"I was just hunting some of those Owlkin, ah, do you want to help?"
"Of course," he replied. "I wouldn't want a mage like you dying."
"What's your name?"

"Sol," he replied. "And you are Nienna, right?"

From a nearby hill, the female blood elf was gazing down at them with a smirk as she sat on her mount.

"Sol," she murmured. "You really are cruel."

"There is one thing you must always remember," Denevell told her later that night as she brushed the feathers she had plucked, hoping their intact state would make her more money.

"What is it?" she asked dreamily.

The truth was her mind was miles away, hunting Owlkin with a certain handsome elf. It was a fun day, not only did they split all the items they acquired in half, but he helped her pluck the feathers and even served her dinner. She wondered how it was the elves, especially blood elves, got the reputation for snobbery. They were aloof, perhaps, but not snobby. And she could not help but ask a million questions about his world and his cities. He, in turn, filled her head with tales of unbridled magic and enchanting halls and feasts.

"There is no place more beautiful," he said. "Perhaps you would want to go?"
"It would be impossible as things are now," she sighed regretfully.

"That dealing too heavily in magic can be dangerous. A mage like you must learn how to use your magic with restraint and only in the most important of circumstances," Denevell replied, bringing her back to reality.
They thought they heard the clear sound of scoffing came from the other side of the room and they glanced up at the Sol, the apparent source of the sound.

"As I was saying," Denevell continued. "I will now tell you the lore of our people, and how they discovered magic and…"

Nienna glanced at the reclining Sol with amusement. Surely he was listening to this old elf drone on. He seemed bored at first, but as Denevell continued with his story, Queltha's face was filled with annoyance.

"What if you're only giving your side of the story," Nienna said, interrupting Denevell's retelling of how the high elves brought doom on to the world. "Maybe they had their reasons. Why should we stifle curiosity in such a way?"
Denevell sighed with frustration.

"Perhaps one day you will know."

Hmph, she thought. He's treating me like a child again.
The giant orc arrived with two bear carcasses, each slung against one shoulder. He placed one of the bears on the Alliance side, and then took the other one and flung it against the table.

"By th' Forge!" Skinflint cried. "We got us bear meat fer th' night!"

Cyrus nodded his head at the orc, displaying his gratitude and the orc murmured something in orcish.

"Bear meat? Gross!" Nienna exclaimed.

"But that's what yes been eating all this time!" the dwarf exclaimed. "We jest have it fresh."

"That's even worse," she grumbled.

That's when they noticed an argument break out in the far side of the room. The two elves were bickering amongst themselves in their high elfish tongue until Sol had enough and left the building with a huff.

Nienna unconsciously began to follow but caught herself and sat back down. She furiously sewed her torn sleeve.

"So, what were you saying, Denevell?" she asked hurriedly.
"I am done with my lecture today," he said.

"Fine."

The Orc only sighed as he began to skin the large beast at the butcher's block, a grizzly, bloody table that was located in every goblin's inn. It stank and was covered with flies. Watching the hulking man cut away the skin made her sick.

"Perhaps you would like to go out for a while," Cyrus offered. "We all know how squeamish you can be around dead animals."

"But, " she began, trying to find a good excuse.

"Just don't wander off, the night is dangerous. But surely I don't have to tell you that," Cyrus said generously.

"Alright…" she said with false hesitation as she rose from her place.

Everyone watched her go, except for the orc who was busy preparing the meat. Skinflint, although short was much stronger than most realized, took the bear carcass and began to skin it himself.

The lady elf gazed at the girl jealously as she left the inn.

"Why isn't she dead yet?" the orc asked.
"I don't know why he's hesitating," she replied. "He should have killed her today."
"Do you think he likes her?"
"Nonsense! No elf would ever stoop so low as to fall for a human girl."
"We need to go soon. The smell of dwarf and human are making me sick, Lucilin."
"Maybe that's because you haven't smelled yourself lately, Guntag," the lady replied with a smirk.

"Tomorrow we leave."
"Finally!"

Nienna searched every nook and cranny of Everlook and did not find the elf until she exited the city and turned to the stables. There he was, petting his horse and speaking in a low, musical tone of his people. The horse was responding to the speech in kind, and Nienna was reminded of the strange union elves had with nature. Even the blood elves, as obsessed with magic as they were, still shared an affinity with the earth that she could not hope to understand.

"Sol?" she called out cautiously.
"What do you want?" he asked pertly.

"Ah…I'm sorry. You just seemed upset and I wanted to see if you were ok. I'll leave you alone."
"It's fine. The night is unfamiliar to me."

"You're afraid of the dark!" she exclaimed.
"I am not!"

"The night is unfamiliar to me," she said in a tone that mocked his serious demeanor. "I wonder what that means in elfish, exactly?"

"It means that as blood elf, I prefer the day. It does not mean I'm afraid of the dark!"

"Well then, if you aren't afraid of the dark, I'll just leave you here," she said. "And you better not follow me home!"
As he watched her leave, he turned to his horse and petted his head gently.

Something rustled in the darkness and Sol began to find the prospect of going back into the safety of the city, even if it was ugly and filled with nasty goblins, more attractive. Pride be damned.

The next morning, she was the last to wake and found to her dismay that the Horde party was not only gone, but there was no sign of their stuff.

"They packed up and left earlier this morning," Cyrus announced from the table as he voraciously tore into his food.

"Good," she said with forced unconcern. "I'm happy they're finally gone."
"We all be, lass."
"I've decided to stay here a little longer and find a fifth person before we head for the Outlands," Cyrus announced.

"That is wise," Denevell remarked.
"As long as we don't pick up one o' them blue creatures," Skinflint remarked.

Nienna sighed as she took her place at the table and glanced at the meat that was supposed to be her breakfast dubiously.
Oh well, she thought. At least I won't be eating any more Westfall Stew.

"I want to hunt alone today," she declared.
"I donna think…" Skinflint began.

"Let her be," Cyrus interrupted. "She did want to be alone yesterday and she did fine. Besides, the Horde are gone and so there is no worry about attack."

Skinflint sighed as he stabbed his meat with his fork.

Let's jest ignore 'he dwarf! he thought.

Nienna headed out to the hot springs, unsure of the reason that they attracted her. The water looked clear and crisp, and shimmered in hues of blue. The occasional steam spout released its wares, creating a calm, warm atmosphere. She removed her glove and dipped her hand in the water. It was just warm enough for a bath. A small ache pierced her heart and the sad realization that she missed the blood elf entered her mind.

"Ah! I'm so stupid!" she murmured.

"Why do you say that?" a voice asked to her right.

She turned to the source and found Sol leaning against a tree, his silver armor glittering in the sun and his green eyes glaring at her with malice she did not read.

"What are you doing here?" She asked. "I thought you were gone."

"We took a short break. Besides, I wanted to say goodbye. I knew you'd be here."

Nienna blushed with shame.

"I don't know why you'd bother," she said.

"The same reason you bothered to come here," he said as he walked to her.

"Sol," she murmured. "Why are you here?"

"You should know, Nienna."

He was now too close as far as she was concerned. But she could not resist as he placed his hand under her chin and compelled her to stand.

As he leaned forward for a kiss her heart fluttered. Warning bells and red flags began to clamor in her mind, warning her that there was something definitely amiss. But she did not care.

Their lips nearly touched when a sharp pain pierced her side. She fell to her knees and then realized with horror that she had been shot through with an arrow, and it was poisoned. Her head swam and she collapsed. Feebly she began to mutter the incantations of her fastest spell. Another twang was heard and an arrows sailed through the air and peirced her leg.

The hunter's wolf ran to her and clamped his jaws on her arm, tearing at her flesh. She cried out with pain as she felt her muscles serrate and with horror, she realized she was now able to see bone. But she continued to chant as the wolf tore her, and she cast arcane brilliance several times, hitting her enemies with a burst after burst of magic. They did not seem to be too affected and the Palandin murmured a few words, releasing a powerful seal. She raised her hand and prepared a powerful incantation. Arcane missiles would at least kill of Sol. Even if she died here, she was determined she would not die alone.

As she began to murmur the incantation, the horrible guttural language that flowed from her lips stopped her. She could not cast! Arrows continued their reign as the wolf tore into her shoulder.

Lucilin was watching from under a nearby tree with a giant blue void walker beside her. She sneered with satisfaction as the spell she cast took effect.
"There is no point in sending you out. She's almost dead as it is. Pathetic," she told her pet as she began to leech off Nienna's health.

No! Nienna thought. This isn't happening. This can't be!

Another harrow hit her lung and she fell back, almost dead now from the lack of life force, the blood loss due to the mauling wolf, and the poison that coursed through her body. The arrows that were piercing her relentlessly only increased her pain. The Wolf moved to tare at her face but Sol stopped him.

"Not the face, GulbGlug," he warned the wolf.

The wolf merely sniffed as he made his way to her torso and ripped off a chunk of delicate flesh. Intestines followed along as he ripped off at her stomach and kidney, and she her eyes widened in horror. The pain was unbearable. But she was so weakened, all she could do was mutter a cry.

"Stop…please…it hurts…"
"Be quiet, stupid," he commanded and silenced her with a stab to the heart.
"Are we finished here?" Lucilin coldly asked as she approached.

The wolf was now happily devouring his lunch to the side, relishing every bloody bite and staining his snout red with gore.

"She's dead," Sol said.

The orc approached and spit on her face, his green slimy mucus slid down her forehead and stuck on to her hair, but she was suffering too much to care. Besides, she would play dead, if that is what kept her alive.

"We have no need for traitorous humans. Come Lucilin and GulbGlug, we must leave this frozen wasteland. She's your prey, so you may take her stuff, Sol. "

"Fine by me, coming Sol?"
"I'm almost done here," he called out as he began to paw her sides for valuables.

His stab had narrowly missed her heart, and only hit one of her arteries. So he knew she may survive if someone found her soon enough and healed her. He pocketed all of her money, her precious wand, a few herbs she kept for elixirs, and even some Owlkin feathers.

When they were left alone, he pressed his hand against her torso and muttered a few words in a language she did not understand. They sounded like a prayer.

However, the pain disappeared even though the healing was only minimal. He then passed his hand over her eyes and closed them, whispering something in elfish before following his party.

It seemed hours before she was found by her companions, and healed by Denevell and Skinflint. Even though they were able to heal her, she could not move for several days and was forced to stay in the inn for recovery. Skinflint was the one who cared for her the most, feeding her patiently and telling her stories of his younger days at the forge, many years ago. Also, of his beloved Diamond who died when a band of orcs killed everyone in his town. During this time, she did not utter a word but merely kept her eyes glued on the ceiling before her.

"I learned my lesson, Skinflint," she said at last.
"Eh?"
"Never trust a pretty face."
"Well, lass it seems ya only learned 'alf a lesson."

"What's that?"
"Never trust th' 'orde! Remember th' bear meat that accursed Orc git? T'was poisoned! We had none o' it th' next day but only pretended to prepare it. I'm sorry ya had ta go through such 'n experience ta learn. Now, between us 'ere, ya kin trust Tauren once in a while and orcs when ya have ta', but trolls, blood elves an' especially th' Forsaken ya kin never trust!"

"Thanks for looking out for me Skinflint."

"Is she feeling better?" Denevell asked as he entered the inn with Cyrus, their daily catch in their hands.
"Th' lass is even talkin'!"
"Good, maybe we can finally leave this place," Cyrus exclaimed wearily. "We even found a fifth member of our troop, Nienna."
"Tha' crazy Gnome! Bah! We'll git na peace after this, mark me words!" Skinflint exclaimed.

Maniacal laughter was heard from outside and a small, white haired man barely three feet tall jumped in the room and began to bounce from bed to bed, followed by his small demon minion named Zapenstap.

"Bwahhaha!" the gnome laughed as he jumped from cot to cot.

Then, he paused his insanity by dancing on the table.

"There be na peace now, by th' Forge!" Skinflint exclaimed with exasperation.

"Denevell?" she asked as she gestured the elf near.
"Yes?"
"Before he shut my eyes, he said something in elvish."
"What did he say?"

She repeated his words and the elf looked down at the floor before gazing at her sadly with luminous eyes.

"What did it mean?"
"I don't think I should tell you."
"Please tell me!"
"But…"

"I git th' hint!" Skinflint declared, rising from her side and sitting on one of the cots on the other side of the room.

When they were left alone, everyone else out of hearing distance, the elf said, "Maybe in the next life."
"But I thought that Elves don't believe in reincarnation," she asked curiously.
"We don't. He was mocking you."

Something died in her. It was a wound that never really healed and the once naïve, good-natured Mage lost that which had made her so endearing: her innocence. But what they gained was a fierce magic user that never hesitated to kill. From being a liability, she turned into a competent member of her team.

Now the gnome Warlock, Gearshift, well, that's another story…

AN: I'm not happy with it. But I hope you like it.