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IN THE OSPREY'S TALONS

After about 10 days of sailing, the fleet was finally closing on Kalimdor. The voyage had gone almost too well. All the battling we managed to have, was shooting cannons at some southsea pirates, and the artillery combined with the fleet's size of eight plus the juggernaut drove them back quickly. This was much glory for this little action. I thought then that some things would not come with a price to pay. But little did I know that an imminent danger was coming for us. Not from the horizon, nor from the depths, but in the very juggernaut which I saw so glorious.

In the depths of the Lion's Bellow, our glorious flagship was of course the prison level, a dirty and an ugly place and a pile of shit on a field of the finest silk. To think that such filth existed on the Bellow. The floor and walls were sticky and rats ran roaming around when they would have been exterminated elsewhere on the ship. Magic wards were placed all around the hallways to prevent any prisoner from using magic. The stench of dead, sweat and mould irritated the unfortunate marines and workers signed to this deck. So oblivious they were that even their evening would become a tad more interesting in less than an hour. In one single dark cell, every twilight cultist was asleep, when in others they could not. A warden in royal clothing too fine for a dirt hole like this was passing by this particular cell, when the man noticed the unusual sight. He gave it a suspicious glare and bended over to look. He tried to call for the cultists, but they said nothing. The prisoners were of any possible race, but traitors to the alliance. The warden noticed one sitting still just by the cell door and poked his back rather harshly. The cultist didn't react in any way. A creepy suspicion snuck into the guard's mind. He took off his gloves and pressed his front and middle finger on the cultist's throat. He felt nothing...

A realization confused him. This cultist's heart had stopped, and it could have been the same for the others. The cultists looked unharmed, so the guard was afraid of some sort of disease spreading. He covered his mouth and tested the pulse of the next one, who looked like a high elf woman. Before he realized however, the elf had awakened and grabbed his fingers. The warden let out a startled yelp, before he got an arcane charge hitting his fingers, and moving forward in his body like an electric charge. The man passed out on the floor and the elf took off her hood. The protective ward near the cell absorbed her arcane energy from the warden's body, but it didn't wake him up. The elf glanced at the rest of the cultists who didn't wake up, and took the warden's key ring from between the bars. Judging by human age, the elf appeared about 27 of years. She was even thinner than most elves and had a blonde hair that reached her shoulders. Her fine features didn't match the dirty prisoner garbs she was wearing. She kept glancing around with her blue eyes in case of more guards while she opened the cell lock and snuck out. She closed the cell door behind her and wiped off sweat from her forehead. The reason for the sweating was minor mana withdrawal, but also the prisoner garb. She took off the brown and dirty robe and revealed her blue and white elven noble garments underneath. After throwing the robe in the cell and hiding the warden in the food storage, she started moving around the hallways, avoiding to be seen by any guards.

"So, how's Lakeshire been over the years?" Larry asked me around the same time from me, while I was having a break on Hawktalon.
"Better over the last years, the king's return did well for us all." I said looking to the sky. It was turning to a night sky; a few stars were already visible.
"That's good and all. But I meant more of... some other things?" Larry said, "If you don't mind me asking of course."
I turned towards Larry, raising my brow and looking stupid. It was a talent.
"Any luck with girls?" Larry asked straight, and I finally realized what he meant.
"Gah, sorry, stupid me," I said, "Not much actually. I've been a lone wolf for most of the time." I continued as Larry looked at me with confusion.
"Are you certain? Because Derek - the guy from your platoon - said that you quite much have to kick them off you." he said. I looked at him and smiled.
"He's just jealous because I actually have some looking at me." I told him, "Yes, I could have more luck if I was motivated for it. I do see the look in their eyes, but I've never met a gaze that would strike in my deepest. The problem is within me. There's a rumour that I would be very... what to say... experienced. But the last time I had ANY special contact with a girl was when I was fifteen." I said. I was a bit sad in secret; I did feel some envy whenever I saw a young married couples sitting on the lake shore during sunset. In one way I just lacked the confidence needed for the strike of luck. A part of me believed that better luck would come along heroic accomplishments which I wanted to step closer to with this journey. I hated orcs more than anything, and striking down armies of them and their allies was my picture of honour and glory.
"Brad?" Larry said, seeing if I still inhabited my body. I snapped out of my thoughts only to realize that Larry had been talking to me for a while.
"You were thinking of someone, weren't you?" Larry said with a sly smirk.
"You wish..." I grunted back.
"That's a total 'yes'." he replied with his grin growing.
"Go suck it..." I said while he never gave up his irritating smirk.

The elf in the Lion's Bellow kept a low profile despite her fine clothes and managed to move around more openly when she got out of the cell deck. In a big ship like this, even the commodore couldn't keep a watch on the names of all personnel. The elf moved on one of the three cannon decks, looking at the cannoneers mostly consisting of humans, dwarves and gnomes. After walking a bit, she set eyes on a certain dwarf cleaning up the smutch by the hatch from the last battle. She gave a small tap on the cannon's rear with her boot and continued walking. The dwarf quit the cleaning and started following the elf without saying a word. The dwarf had a light-brown long hair and a square kind of beard and wore a dirty sleeveless shirt. Managing to not attract attention, they found the staircase to the next deck.
"They'll start to see something's wrong. The hourglass is set." the elf said, getting a quiet "aye" from the dwarf. They entered the next deck. These were crew quarters for the 7th legion and the royal guard, clearly too fancy rooms for common soldiers like me back then. After a few hallways they came to two female janitors, another high elf who was almost a mere girl, who also had a blonde hair, but shorter. The other one was a human woman a bit over twenties and a blazing red hair tied down. The dwarf knocked the wall loudly as they passed the hallway the janitors were at. The janitors looked up to them and left the cleaning gear in the room right next to them, which was luckily empty at the time. The ladies untied their hairs and bolted after the elf and the dwarf, following them in a hastened pace. At last after a while they came to one of the rooms. They all stopped at room 98 and the older high elf knocked firmly. After a few seconds, a night elf man wearing 7th legion medium armours, the arcanite mail armour without the bird's beak like mask. The elf walked out, followed by a human in similar attire. The human looked at the group,gave a nod, and led them forward again. The group walked through the hallways with determination and intimidation. It didn't take long for them to near on the commodore's huge quarters in the back of the ship.
"I don't like this feeling... this is too easy..." the red-haired janitor said.
"Stay focused then," the night elf man told back "so that we're prepared for possible surprises."
The group was soon stopped by the royal guards standing in front of the door.
"State your business!" one of them said.
"Oh I'll state my business..." the redhead said, moving next to the guard on the right seductively.
"Me too, I have a lot of business to state... or reveal if you prefer..." the younger high elf said moving next to the left one. The guards turned around and grabbed each of the girls from their throats.
"Enough horsing around," the right one said to the redhead, "we can't have any dis-"
The guard's sentence was interrupted as the 7th legion human struck his fist on his helmet. His fist alone was enough to make a proper dent on the helmet and knock the royal guard out. As the other one turned around alerted, the high elf grabbed a stiletto from her thigh under her janitor dress and stabbed the guard's palm, which wasn't guarded with plate. The guard let out a painful growl as the night elf grabbed him and tripped him hard, so that his head hit the floor. The hit was so hard, that even the helmet wasn't enough to keep him conscious. The group started to hear a lot of stepping around them. Apparently the 7th legion and the off-duty royal guard heard the racket and started to get up and open the doors to see what's going on. The first ones of the 7th legion got out of their rooms and looked to the door of the commodore's quarters. They barged off to the downed guards. They put their fingers on the necks and tried for pulse. The pulse was there, but nobody was seen around.
"Who did this..?" one of them asked.
"The question is why." the other said and rose up, trying to open the commodore's door, but the lock seemed to be taken down.
"Shit! Someone help me take this door down! The commodore could be in danger!" the same one said. A dwarf from the 7th legion and a Royal Guard moved forward to help him. They all bashed the door together with all their force, but it didn't break down.

On the other side of the door, the red-head janitor smiled satisfied with herself. The door was barred by a huge chunk of ice behind her group.
"Nice work, Nina." the human from the 7th legion said, and turned back to the commodore.
"Numbers will not grant you enough advantage to take me down!" the commodore intimidated, lifting his rapier.
"Let's have a look at that." the man said, "Saroni!"
The younger high elf who was supposed to be one of the janitors, removed her worker dress, revealing a light leather combat suit which left her arms bare. It went along her skin around the stomach and chest area. There were small white ruffles by the shoulders, and a skirt attached to the lower body. Her legs had knee-long brown boots with small holsters on them. She grabbed the holsters taking out two long daggers. She held one up towards the commodore, while the other found a loop on an object attached to her belt. She lifted the object, threw it in mid-air and kicked it towards the man. The black ball broke on the commodore's chest and released a cloud of smoke. The commodore coughed and stepped backwards, only to see the elf emerge through the smoke with a dagger coming towards his throat. The commodore was fast though, and grabbed the dangerous arm pushing it sideways to his right, making her miss the attack. Saroni was trained well and she used this defence as her advantage, turning to another round-kick along the move aimed for the head. The commodore saw this coming and ducked. During the duck he sent his rapier towards the elf's leg. Saroni managed to get her other dagger to strike it aside. All happened in mere two or three seconds, followed by one more incoming dagger at the commodore's face. It was met with the rapier and followed by the commodore's masterful move to get her hold off the dagger. Saroni was left with only one, which she knew to be dangerous now that the commodore's skills were clear. Before being impaled, she made a couple of back flips, retreating to the group.
"Very nice." the 7th legion human said now removing his helmet now to release her eyesight completely. The commodore gasped a little. The man had strange black markings around his eyes. His face had some demon symbols and a painting that looked like remains of tears going down his cheeks, with the colour of dried blood. What caught the commodore's attention too, were his light green eyes almost glowing and the pupils that had turned to stripes like a cat's during bright daylight. Through his mask the commodore had thought them to be some kind of goggles, but these were his actual eyes.
"I'm sorry, Daros..." Saroni said bowing her head down.
"Don't apologize yet, this isn't over," the green-eyed man said. "Arthur!"
This time the dwarf "cannoneer" pulled something from the sack he carried, which was supposed to hold cannon maintenance equipment. Now his hands were holding a short but relatively fat single-barrelled shotgun.
"Catch!" the dwarf said grinning and pulled the trigger. The Commodore got hit in his stomach and flied backwards. Arthur smiled pleased in himself, loading the shotgun. His smile faded when the commodore coughed blood and got on his feet. His torn attire revealed a chainmail which apparently was strong enough to withstand a full hit from Arthur's street sweeper.
"Wasstha' made of?!" Arthur asked almost enraged.
"Enforced adamantite," the commodore replied with a hint of smile. "Not much exists that could pierce the thing." he continued, lifting a flintlock pistol, shooting with amazing accuracy, right in Arthur's shotgun, which had a relatively wide barrel. A loud crack was heard, and the gun went mute.
"Ye sonuvabitch!" Arthur cursed.
"Be glad it didn't blow up." Daros reminded without a hint of emotion.
"Well? Who's next?" the commodore asked, preparing for a surprise attack.
"Playtime's over..." Daros grunted and made an impossibly quick leap towards him. Commodore Dunham had fast reflexes though and thrusted his rapier forward.
"Fool, attacking without weapons," he thought grinning and accurately sent the rapier to the elbow area of Daros' armour. He waited for the grunt of pain as his adamantite rapier would cut through the iron chainmail beneath, but he heard nothing. Dunham got a hard fist on his shoulder almost breaking it. He staggered backwards, steeling himself for the next attack. Daros came towards Dunham with his fists ready, but Dunham was prepared, and made a dodge manoeuvre. He grabbed his still loaded flintlock and aimed for the weak spot again. Dunham pulled the trigger, but instead of hurting the man, the bullet took a ricochet and hit the ceiling.
"What in blazes?!" he shouted, getting a kick to the stomach right afterwards. Because of the chainmail, he only felt pain, but he was still there enough to gaze at his enemy. The rest seemed to follow and count on him so much that they stayed still. Arthur still looked angry, but the rest had nearly no emotion. Dunham looked at Daros, as he got an explanation. He was tearing off his armour plating with a ruthless grip. One pull was enough to cut the leather straps keeping them in place. In a moment, Dunham received his explanation. Daros' arms were not bone, flesh and skin. They were dark-grey metal, which of course left him thinking how it was possible for them to move.
"All that slowed me down." Daros said, cutting Dunham's thoughts. Daros was now wearing nothing more than an open leather vest, leaving his chest and stomach quite bare. They had the same kind of markings as he had on his face. Strapped by a leather belt, were his brown trousers and black combat boots with mail plating, which almost reached his knees. Dunham was worried, but dashed forward for another strike, aiming for the heart. Daros lifted the rapier blade easily with his right arm in the way, and at the same time, grabbed Dunham's arm with his free hand, gripping it so hard that it broke in a loud "crack". Dunham shouted in pain as his rapier fell to the floor and he started withering. When he opened his eyes, he saw Daros' hand glowing green. No... Flaming green...
"Any last words?" Daros asked him. Dunham looked up to him, eyes tearing, gritting teeth from the pain.
"You... failed..." Dunham said.
"Excuse me?" Daros replied. Dunham replied by grabbing his beard with his free hand and tore it off, followed by removing his hat. The assassins noticed his features more accurately now. This man was not commodore James Dunham.
"A decoy..." the night elf, removing his 7th legion helmet sighed.
"Seems so, Meldrinn, Our job is not yet done." Daros said. "Sabrine..."
"The older high elf woman walked towards them, understanding the tip. She moved closer to the decoy still shivering in Daros' painful grasp and moved her lips real close to his.
"Where's the real commodore..?" Sabrine asked.
"I'm not telling you a..." the man grunted, but cut his sentence when Sabrine made a breath on his face. Inhaling the beautiful scent she had made him blink rapidly.
"He's... on... Hawktalon... the first... larboard... frigate..." he stuttered.
"That wasn't so hard, was it..?" Sabrine said and walked away. Suddenly the man blinked and looked shocked.
"What... no... WHY?! HOW?!" he screamed in despair.
"Thanks for that." Daros said, grinning and let go of the wrist, letting the man stagger backwards. The desperate man grabbed a dagger with his left hand from his belt.
"You mercenaries won't thwart our plans! This fleet shall be ours and the seas will know terror by our hand!" he roared and ran at Daros with nothing more than intent to kill. Daros' just leapt towards him as well, and delivered his flaming fist towards the man's heart. It bit through the adamantite chainmail like a hot knife in butter and impaled the man, destroying his heart in the process. The man vomited blood on his metal arm and whimpered pathetically before going limp, not moving at all. Daros pushed him off his right arm and let him fall on the floor.
"At least he revealed his true colours." Saroni muttered.
"He was in the same plot, I could bet on it." Daros said calmly. At the same moment, the wall next to them blew up, throwing pieces of wood and smoke all over the cabin. Avoiding injuries, Daros, Meldrinn, Nina, Arthur, Saroni and Sabrine looked at the hole. 7th legion soldiers and Stormwind Royal Guards walked inside cautiously with weapons locked, along with a sorcerer who apparently blew up the wall.
"Assassin filths, look at what they did to the commodore!" one of the legion said.
"Sick! Who's capable of something like that?!" a royal guard shouted.
"Surrender without resistance, and you will survive with a life sentence!" a female royal guard captain stated to the group. The group however looked at Daros.
"We need to get to Hawktalon..." he whispered to his folk.

"Hey, Brad." I heard Derek's voice from behind me during a patrol. The guy was a couple of years older than I was. His hair was dark brown and cut very short. He wasn't the smartest of the platoon, but a great friend who was the first to arrive when the others needed help. The broken nose and scars in the corner of the eye and chin messaged of his stoic and sacrificing behaviour in battle. He was very tall, about able to look an average orc in the eye without arching head backwards.
"I know it's our patrol soon." I replied with a hint of smile. It was due amusement, while Derek's eyes always looked drunken, even if he was as sober as a man can get.
"Get a load of this stuff they're giving us to drink." he said, offering me a glass of some purple liquid.
"Are you trying to pull a prank here?" I said, looking at the glass suspiciously.
"No, no. This is completely legit, and the very chef is sharing this. It gives kick to stay active with only three hours of sleep after midnight AND it tastes good to boot!" he replied, urging me to try it. Finally I gave up and took a sip from it. As the drink swarmed down my tongue and throat I gave it a gringe. The drink was bitter in a bad way, and I coughed after swallowing it. When I was done coughing I gave the glass back.
"Are you sure this wasn't a prank?" I asked.
"It's not supposed to be," Derek said, looking at the glass, taking a sip himself. "I find nothing wrong with this."
"Guess I just don't like it then." I said with a shrug.
"That's too bad. You're gonna be pretty tired at some point, our schedules once we reach Theramore are quite strict." Derek said.
"Yeah, too bad," I said. "Thanks for trying to help though."
"Hey, any time, Bradley. Any time." he said and walked away. After a couple of minutes breathing the sea air, I found him by the door under the deck and started our scheduled patrol with our helmets on. We went to the lower deck, which was the officer's deck. I wondered if I could ever be on a cruise in one of these rooms. I kept peering around curiously. If this is how well the Hawktalon's officer deck was, then how were things in the Lion's Bellow?
"You look thoughtful. You alright?" Derek asked me. I turned back to him and gave it a nod.
"Yeah, sorry, I'll focus." I said, returning awake. This hopeless dreaming had to stop if I was ever to climb in ranks. Suddenly, we heard a scream from an officer right ahead of us, looking out of the window in horror.
"EVERYONE TO THE LARBOARD SIDE, NOW!!!" he screamed and started running.
"'the hell..?" Derek muttered, as I dashed towards the nearest window to us. The same horror struck me and my heart skipped a beat. The Lion's Bellow was manoeuvring tightly larboard, which meant that it was turning right towards us. Normally it wouldn't have mattered, but this vessel was on its way for a collision course.
"RUN LIKE HELL!" I shouted to Derek and ran like I had never run before. The thought of how and why was cast away and replaced by "survive". The Bellow was far too immense to hit us without leaving a critical dent. To my relief I at least heard Derek's armour clanking behind me, indicating that he was running too.
And then it hit us.
The impact threw us both on our faces, and a huge noise that sounded like an explosion supported by sounds of debris and glass shattering around the hallways. But it was far less than anticipated. Derek and I turned around with our arses on the floor, looking at the window that just got terribly bigger. Officers dashed out from their rooms around us, panicked and asking each other of what happened.
"Are they trying to kill us?!" Derek yelled.
"No. They must have turned it back towards starboard just in time, or else we'd be taking a swim right now." I said.
"What is wrong with the Bellow's wheel?" one of the officers asked with an angry tone. Suddenly, something crashed through the top deck, and the hallway. It was something big and dark grey, which according to the noise afterwards, fell through many more decks before stopping. I jumped on my feet and peered through the hole. Whatever went through was not visible anymore. The next thing we knew was an arcane flash next to us. As we looked, we saw a nobly dressed mage looking at us in purple battle robes.
"Do not be alarmed, I come from the Lion's Bellow." the mage told us.
"What the hell happened?!" I shouted before thinking of my position. I was hoping not to get punished for it, and I wasn't. Instead, the mage just looked grim towards me, and then towards the officers.
"The Hawktalon is under attack." he said.