A Bounty (BFA)

It was a quiet night there in the confines of the steam jungle town. The waves crashed against the rickety pier work that the Goblins had paid the lowest possible bid for. The druidess sat, staring out into the night sky. Before her, a small plate of spider kabobs seasoned the way she enjoyed. Taking a deep breath, she gave a bit of a burp relaxing into the chair, letting herself sink down.

She had needed the rest and relaxation after getting trapped for so long on that strange little island. Lucky for her, she usually found a bit of a good time in places like Booty Bay. Humming, the woman reached for a little book she had brought along with her, that was until a knife slammed into it.

Her head turned only to see the tip of an arrow on a rather precarious path for her face. It took less than an instant for years of battle-hardened training to kick in. With a firm shove against the base of the table, she forced the chair she was sitting in to fall backwards. The arrow’s feathered tail brushing against her nose as her body seemed to make its way towards the ground.

Grunting as she hit the ground with a thud, she drew her attention to the direction of the knife and arrow. Meeting her eyes were two orcs looking rather proud of themselves.

“So, this is the great Alnarra Stargrove, so-called spymaster” one of them huffed.

“You’d think if she were so good, she wouldn’t have even let us this close hmm? Easy to track and even easier to kill” the other teasing.

The druidess was now laying on her back. Her eyes staring up at the sky with a facial expression that one could only describe as irritated. Giving a long sigh, she closed her eyes “If you leave now we can put this all past us and no one needs to die tonight”

“The only one that’ll be dying tonight is you” the closer orc grunted. “The head of Alnarra Stargrove goes for a good bit of coin in the right markets” he sneered.

 She seemed to nod, her eyes glancing over “Well I offered” she smiled.

It had taken years of training, of leading Section 28. Now though, the once calm and kind druidess shaped into a killing machine. Much to her chagrin, it seemed that a demonstration of that machine would be getting used once more.

She pushed off against her hands beginning to do a backflip. The orcs responded in kind. Knife and arrow whistling into the night sky aiming with lethal intent for the woman. Their path was soon interrupted as roots erupted from the wooden floor beneath knocking them into the wall and window frame alike.

Landing like a cat, with grace upon her feet, the silhouette of a night elf vanished. Soon the glaring silver eyes of a saberon fell upon the two intruding green mercenaries.

“We know all about your claws Ms Cat” one taunted. He pulled an axe from his back and charged towards the lithe anthropomorphic feline.

The druidess reacted, once again roots shot from the woodwork. This time it was not to change the direction of the axe, but rather pooling like a knot in the saberon’s pawed hands. With a moments breath, the Ironwood seemed to stretch out forming two blades that caught the edge of that axe between them.

Pushing back against the raw strength of her attacker her eye caught sight of another arrow. Launched while she had occupied herself with the first orc, it's target was her head. Taking a deep breath, the druidess's cheeks billowed outward followed by a purple fireball erupting from her mouth. Colliding with the missile, the arrow disintegrated into ash in the windless room.

 “This may be a better fight then we were hoping for” the orc bearing down with his axe shouted at his partner. “The bitch actually knows how to fight”

His comments generated a grunt as the second bow-wielding orc. Within moments, he knocked back a second arrow, no intention of letting it get caught up in a stray fireball.

Growling into the night sky the orc eyed his opponent. That axe bared down upon the woman’s twin blades forcing her to buckle. “Last chance,” she said with a calm expression.

“For you,” he seemed to smirk. More force swelled before the axe seemed to cleave its way through the Alnarra's defences. The ironwood blades seemed to shatter. the massive blade drove into the woman’s chest. Blood sprayed across the Green skin of the orc as a howl of laughter seemed to erupt from the two mercenaries

“Get er head,” the bow-wielding Orc said with a pant, putting his arrow back in the quiver at his side.

As the Orc pulled his axe back there was a gasp of air from the saberon woman. As if choking on air, she lifted her fingers and seemed to be pointing towards the back of the room. The orc confused for a moment turned from what he was sure had been a successful kill. His eyes began to fill with horror.

The bow-wielding orc gave a confused glance at his partner before turning his eyes to the same spot. His own jaw dropped.

The saberon stood before them, unscathed. Holding in her hands were the same two blades that had snapped like twigs moments earlier. The prey they were sure they had killed before seemed to vanish like a swirl of dust leaving the axe to drop to the floor.

Those silvery eyes though, there was something different. Any illusion of peace had vanished from them. Staring for any length of time seemed to make both men almost sick to their stomach. sweat dripped from their neck, and the whole floor seemed to feel as if it was moving.

As if moving in and out of Shadows the Purple Panther like woman got ever closer. Both men felt as if their bodies were so heavy, their mouth dry, their heads screaming in pain. The room seemed to spin as the shape before them crept forward. The moonlight filtering through the broken boards above illuminated the slow steps towards them.

The bow-wielding orc could not even seem to lift his bow, “But how…” he managed to whisper.

“Shh…” was all that greeted him in response as clawed hand seemed to puncture the whole of his abdomen. His partner watched in horror as those claws shone in the moonlight now stained in blood.  They pushed through the entirety of the bow-wielding orc’s form.

Slumping forward the orc began to choke on his own blood as Alnarra pulled her clawed hand back. She tossed the green form aside like a ragdoll.

Approaching, the axe-wielding orc’s eyes met Alnarra’s own. He seemed to almost find himself lost in the ocean of thoughts that invaded his own. The room vanished, replaced with a whispering forest. His arms and legs now bound and tied trees with thorned Ironwood. He struggled but it seemed to only cause pain.

“Who wants my head?” she asked

“Go to fel bitch” the man spit. In response, the thorned roots squeezed tighter and found new and more horrible places to wrap themselves. He could only scream in pain

“Already been, didn’t agree with me,” she said looking down at her bloody paw “My head, who?” she asked again

“A man named Hieren Dawnwater, of the Forsaken,” he said with a choked breath. “I don’t know where he is, we’re supposed to deliver the—” he choked again. his eyes unable to focus on the almost serene forest around him. “Silvermoon” he managed to make out with a whispered breath.

“Thanks” she said before taking one of her ironwood blades from earlier and shoving it through the man’s throat and into his skull

The illusion of the forest seemed to vanish, and the Orc’s corpse hit the ground with a thud. The druidess looked around and shook her head, her eyes glancing back to her book from earlier. Removing the knife blade from it she chuffed “I was going to read this” she said in a scolding tone to the two corpses.