Dealing with spies

The full moon floods the landscape with it’s pale glow.  A ship anchored on the opposite shore can be seen intermittently though the tall trees of the island.  Sounds of wood popping occasionally from the campfires and an ever present beating of waves along the shoreline give the little camp an atmosphere of laziness.  Night elves are here.  The tapestry of shadows being cast by the trees is perfect for them to just blend into the nothingness of the night, but they are not expecting anything at this late hour.  Three men are gathered around a campfire silently warming themselves.  One of them stands up and stretches, then perks his ears as he catches a glimpse of something that seems out of place.  The light of the campfire makes seeing into the darkness difficult, but… yes.  There at the shore there is something… a light, like someone lighting a torch.  It’s illuminating the land around it and approaching very very quickly.  His comrade to the right sees it too and is standing, weapon drawn ready for action, but is knocked off his feet as the fireball catches him square in the chest.  Then the first one notices a hollow echoing moan growing louder and out of the corner of his eye he sees the guard to his left struck by a shadowbolt. The impact detaches the night elf’s soul from his body which crumples to the ground and an instant later the guard’s non-corporal essence vanishes to the great beyond.  The remaining guard opens his mouth to raise an alarm but the only sound is waves crashing along the shore.  He can’t get a breath past the blade now impaling his throat.   He rolls his eyes down and catches a glimpse of the second sword buried deep in his chest.  Vision fades and as darkness consumes him he realizes that it has gone clean through his heart.  Three guards dead.  The whole exchange having occurred in just over a second.

I withdraw the swords from my victim allowing his body to slump to the ground.  At the bottom of one of the nearby tents I pick up a document.  This is our objective, to infiltrate the camp and steal as much intelligence as we can get our hands on.  Two blood elves emerge from the shadows.  The first is a woman, her imp bounding energetically at her heals before blinking out of phase and the man beside her is a mage.  The three of us move silently through the camp, killing the rangers in their sleep and then rifling through their belongings looking for more documentation.  The camp now empty, we regroup and turn our attention toward the anchored ship.  The warlock halts, apparently startled by something in the shadows.  That’s when I notice the lone sentry still standing between us and the boat.  Sensing the wave of adrenaline pumping through it’s startled master the Imp gleefully shouts what sounds like “Whaaaka waka teenga waka” and shoots a firebolt at the sentry.  The shot merely injures it’s target who lets out a painful cry finally alerting everybody left alive to our presence.  Deckhands on the ship snap to attention and the captain scrambles, gathering up books and documents on a table before her and flees to her cabin.   Within just a couple of minutes all that lies before us are bodies and the locked door of the captain’s quarters.  “Out of my way” I grumble, stowing my swords and pulling out a large battleaxe.  Solid Thwacks echo across the water as my blade bites into the door over and over till it eventually gives way. 

 The captain stares at us defiantly from her chair.  I have the tip of my sword resting against her throat while the other two ransack the room.  “Where is it?” Screams the warlock, backhanding the captain.   She is greeted with nothing but defiant silence.  “Calm down” interjects the mage.  “You’ve got to be subtle with someone like this.  Let me show you.” while gently pushing my blade safely away from the prisoner’s throat.  “After all, she’s not going to cooperate if she thinks she won’t live to see the sunrise.”  The man grabs a chair and sits right in front of the night elf and then proceeds to speak to her in her own language.  Looking on with almost a clinical fascination, the warlock translates for me. 

The captain before us is a fairly young night elf woman.  Surprising to see someone as young as her in such a position of power, though she definitely has an aura of strength about her.  Pale blue skin she, is a decently attractive woman.  Not nearly the seductresses her blood elf counterparts tend to be, but there is a more earthy quality to her looks.  The mage peers into the captains’s eyes and with the back of his fingers gently caresses that spot on her cheek where she had just been hit.  “Beautiful.  Absolutely beautiful.  You see we came here for something” Now running the palm of his hand down her shoulder and gently gliding it along the skin of her arm.  ”If you give us what we want I just might be tempted to take you for my own.”  With that he raises her hand to his cheek.  To my surprise she actually strokes his jaw with her fingertips.  This is actually working I think, laughing inwardly to myself.  Perhaps I shouldn’t be too surprised, it’s just that I so quickly forget how much the living love to play at seduction.  In spite of his pompous arrogance he is right.  Women do consider him to be almost as good looking as he considers himself.  Now he’s speaking as he gently runs kisses down the length of her arm.  “Your scent is delicious”  kiss.. kiss “Show me where you’ve hidden those documents and you’ll live.  I’ll take you back to be a slave in my household.”  Now he is kissing the palm of her hand.  He takes her finger into his mouth and then slowly withdraws it.  “I could feast on this beauty and you could live well in my home”   The captain finally speaks “I’ve seen your women.  How is it that you find such beauty in me?”  “Because” Says the mage, tracing her forehead with his fingertips, pushing aside some stray hairs blocking her eyes, “I have never looked into the eyes of another woman and seen such a perfect reflection of myself as I see when I look into your eyes”  The warlock burst into high-pitched laughter.   A dejected look on her face and a flash of anger in her eyes, the captain slaps the mage across the face.

“That fool!” I thought to myself.  The mage throws up his hands and addresses the warlock “Obviously she doesn’t like men.  Perhaps you should sit here and give it a try”  That’s when I say  ”No.  I’ve been watching you and I’d like to give it a try.  Domina, I’ll need you to translate when I speak”  “Oh, this I’ve GOT to see” says the mage, giving up his seat so I can sit down in front of the captain.  Then I proceed to mimic every action the mage had just made.  I caress her cheek the same way, run my fingers along the skin of her arm the same way.  All this with complete disgust and revulsion on her face.  “So what do you want me to tell her?”  “Nothing yet, I’d rather just let my actions speak for the moment”  Now I’m kissing her arm in the very same way the mage had just demonstrated. The Warlock makes  a personal comment to the captain ”It seems our friend here has taken quite a liking to you”  and then tightens her face and shudders.  Now I’m kissing her palm, taking her finger into my mouth just like the mage did. Then with a sickening crunch I bite through the bone and sever her finger.  The captain screams and tries to slow the blood as I toy with the flesh in my mouth.  I beckon the warlock over and whisper into her ear.  A thin wicked grin of understanding comes across her face but the captain is still howling in pain and shock.  The warlocks eyes flash red and a wave of energy radiates from here, silencing the prisoner still panicked about her wound. 

 ”My friend says he won’t make you any false promises like my counterpart here just did” With that the captain looks toward the mage who just shrugs his shoulders and raises his eybrows in a manner that suggests he’s saying “It’s true”  “My friend does make these promises: first of all, you will not live to see the sunrise. He asks where have you hidden the documents and promises you a quick death and proper funeral rights in exchange for your cooperation.  It seems he really does think you are beautiful.  Will you show us where they are, or will you let our friend here “feast” on your beauty?”  To add emphasis to that point I loudly crunch through the rest of the bones of her severed finger, and looking captain in the eye I swallow with an audible gulp.  With that thought the captain breaks.  Bowing her head in submission her hands start to glow and touches the wall beside her.  A previously invisible panel slides back revealing the hiding place of all the documents we were looking for.

 With begrudging help from the other two we gather the bodies of all those we had slain that evening and stack them on the deck of the boat.  I put the captain at the top of the pile.  Fashioning a circlet of mageroyal and peacebloom my brethren look at me oddly as I set on her head.  Silently we slip off into the night with the bright glow of a burning ship lighting our path.

~ by pithias on March 24, 2007.