After that fateful encounter I travelled south, unable to come to terms with what I'd seen, what I'd contributed to. Having given up the contract in Silvermoon I couldn't simply waltz back into the Cathedral and ask for another job from the Silver Hand. Part of me wonders how things might have turned out if I'd gone back to Stormwind anyway, if I would have kept my faith, but that was history. Instead I travelled onwards, out of human lands. I had no particular destination in mind but after days on the road I found myself in the dwarven town of Thelsamar; the home of an old friend.
I met him, where else, at the bar. The inn there was particularly busy, even by dwarf standards, as Thelsamar was a popular highway stop for those traveling to Ironforge. Mountaineers and travelers of all sorts filled the bar that evening but I picked my friend out of the crowd. A trained hunter is easy to spot; they have their wits about them constantly. Before I took two steps inside I heard his familiar booming voice, "Well I'll be, Jack Radical!"
The dwarf jumped off his stool and pushed his way through the crowd towards me, shoving his hand out. I shook it earnestly, "How have you been, Grelmen?"
"Aw I can't complain, lad. Come, come, have a seat, make yerself comfortable." He pushed me towards a slightly too short barstool. "Barkeep, a round for my friend here, and keep 'em comin'!"
The bartender slid a mug of thick dwarven ale my way. I caught it and took a long drink, I definitely needed a kick of alcohol. After taking a swig himself, Grelmen asked, "So what brings ye all the way to Thelsamar?"
I really didn't know how to answer that. All this time on the road and I never really thought how I would explain what I saw to anyone, if I even could. The worry was written on my face. Grelmen stared at me for a moment then said, "Jack, is everything alright?"
I shook my head but still couldn't respond. How could he ever understand? And I promised not to say a word.
"You got the stare, lad," he said, swirling his ale. "You've seen some things, eh?"
"I… what?" I asked, a little taken aback.
Grelmen took another gulp, "I've seen that look before in a man's eyes. Back in the Third War we called it battle fatigue, it was like the soldiers were wounded on the inside. Part of 'em just never made it out alive."
"Yeah, I guess this isn't far off," I admitted.
He let out a sigh, the boisterous atmosphere of the bar seemed far off, away from the two of us, "I know you, Jack. You got as much stone in ye as any dwarf. What have you gotten yerself into?"
Keeping my promise not to say a word of what I saw in the Farstrider's barracks, nothing I told Grelmen was specific. He could tell I was holding out on crucial details but also seemed to have enough sense not to pry any harder. By the time I was done with my story we were both about four pints in and three sheets to the wind.
"Jack," he said, biting into some well-done wolf flank, "you got yourself in a real fix. But lemme tell ya, I've seen yer judgment. If you thought those elves were lying, you wouldn'ta let them off the hook like that. You woulda fought 'em on it."
"I did fight them, Grelmen," I replied, holding my head to keep the room from spinning. I'd forgotten how strong dwarven beer was, "I just couldn't take that last step… and I still helped them."
"Aye lad," he said, clapping me on the shoulder, "you didn't know it though."
I coughed a bit, trying to clear my throat, "I just can't convince myself that what I'm doing is the right thing."
"Sometimes there ain't no right thing. Sometimes you just gotta go with yer gut, and if things go wrong, well, so it goes." Grelmen finished the last of his pint and slammed the mug on the counter.
I rolled my remaining ale around in my mug, his advice seemed familiar, "I suppose, but I can't get it out of my mind." I took a long drink, "Terrible things are going to happen, Grelmen, and I'm responsible."
He shook his head at me, "Take it from a dwarf, you don't want to be carryin' that stone around yer neck." He pulled me away from the bar and, staggering together, led me down to the bedrooms. They were warm and sturdy, carved into the rock of the mountain and lit by a roaring fire in the far wall. "Get some sleep, Jack. It's on the house."
"You sure?" I asked, but I was already lying on the bed.
"O'course, just take 'er easy tonight," he said, stumbling back towards the bar to finish his meal. As drunk and exhausted as I was it didn't take long for me to pass out. The next morning I thanked my friend and headed out again, determined to take his advice and put what I'd seen behind me.
Even though my faith had waned I still had my fighting skills, so I took a few contracts here and there. Nothing serious, guarding a wandering merchant or taking a few shifts at the Night Watch in Duskwood, anything to get back to work. At first it seemed like I was doing okay but I quickly found even these pedestrian jobs to be too much. It started when I began losing sleep to nightmares of that accursed scene. The Naaru begging, me turning my back, Lysandra reminding me of the role I played in its demise. This led to me losing my appetite and eventually losing my mind. More than once while on a job I was told by my fellows that I'd already eaten or taken a break or patrolled a road with no recollection of the event. The stress was gas-lighting me and each bout of amnesia just compounded the problem.
Every time questions came up I felt compelled to leave and every time I left I moved further away from anyone who might've been able to help. I've been a knight errant a long time and you don't see that much contract work without knowing the mercenary type. The old ones, the guys sitting at the edge of the bar who everyone knows but no one speaks to, they're trying to outrun their own shadows. They're tough and grizzled because they know nothing they're going to see can compare to what they've seen. I knew I was turning into that but I didn't know how to stop it.
So I just kept moving, first around human lands, then back to dwarven lands, and finally back to human again. For over a year I did this, losing touch a little more every time. When it got to the point I couldn't hold work any longer I went from a mercenary to a drifter, living on whatever money I was able to put together. Finally, even just staying in settled areas was strange and uncomfortable for me. My hands trembled, my mind raced, all I could think about was getting away from people. I'd become entirely irrational.
Driven away, I wandered the southern end of the Eastern Kingdoms in solitude, chattering to keep myself company when awake and resting only when I needed to. Eventually this wandering led me to the Swamp of Sorrows, a happy coincidence you might say. It was cool, damp, calm, and altogether rather homey. Even though it was a savage land I could appreciate the nature. It reminded me of my childhood in Darnassus, the good parts of it. The hunting was plentiful and the visitors few. At last it seemed I'd found a place I could stay.
And stay I did. Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months, and before I realized it an entire year went by. I learned the pattern of the swamps, the Horde patrols to the south, the green dragons to the west, even the Lost Ones of the Draenei found a place here. It was a place a man could lose everything, the swamp reclaimed whatever wasn't used.
My memories subsided as I looked over the haze before me, waiting. Carefully I drew my hammer, sensing my prey was close. My armor had long since rusted away, only my shield and helmet remained and those I wore only rarely. I listened through the rain and heard the squishing of soil. Whatever was out there was nearby. I kneeled down, shrouded by the tarp, until finally it came into view. A young crocolisk; dangerous but relatively easy prey. One good blow to the back of the head would put it down. I waited until I waddled in front of my tent, sniffing curiously before moving on. Then I leapt.
Smashing the creature in one great strike I brought my hammer down full force to the base of the skull. The creature instinctively jerked this way and that, hissing loudly before the second blow came, silencing it. Slinging my hammer over my back, I grabbed the carcass by the tail and began hauling it back to my main camp. This would feed me for a week.
As I towed the creature along my ears pricked up. Turning around I saw nothing but swamp and rain. Well, there were a few elementals but they seemed pretty disinterested, maybe it was nothing. I continued on but didn't get a hundred yards before catching something else. Whirling around again I saw nothing. I stood there waiting for something to happen, motionless except for my darting eyes. Then came the tell-tale sound of a bowstring being drawn taut. I had just enough time to think, oh hell no.
The arrow struck me in the shoulder. I dropped the crocolisk and ran as a second hit its corpse. A third arrow struck me in the leg as I ran, bringing me to the ground. Blood was pouring from my wounds but this time I couldn't heal myself. I heard the heavy thud of boots in the muck. They came closer as I lay there, bleeding out and half drowning in the rain and mud. Kicking me onto my back, I got a full view of my captors; orcs.
"What should we do with this one?" the male said to his companion in the common orcish tongue. She shook her head in response, clearly unimpressed with their prey. The male grinned, "Kill him?"
"And waste a perfectly good prisoner? No, tie him up," she responded.
"Dabu." With that he produced a coil of rope and wound it around my hands and feet. I was helpless anyway, which they knew, but binding me was a way of adding insult to injury, literally in this case. Once my limbs were tightly drawn, I was carried to town, arrows sticking out of me like a pincushion. The two orcs had no trouble hauling me around, I'd lost a lot of weight since my self-appointed exile, a pale spectre of a warrior let alone a paladin. Feeling woozy from the blood loss at some point along the way I passed out.
When I awoke I was bandaged, filthy, and sitting in a cage in the middle of Stonard. A green dragonkin to my left and a pair of lost draenei to my right were my only companions as the orcs meandered about their business, paying us little mind. Occasionally one would rattle my cage, muttering something contemptuously that I couldn't quite catch. It didn't help I was still out of it from losing so much blood. I looked down, they'd stripped me bare. That wasn't what really bothered me though; I could see my own ribs. How did I let myself go so far? How did it come to this? I looked at the arrow wound in my leg, it went straight through my calf. It took all my strength just to move it and with the swamp water getting in the wound I'd probably lose the whole leg to an infection without healing magic.
Hours rolled on. The other prisoners were taken one by one towards the barracks and out of sight. Eventually only I remained, probably for public display, like a trophy of sorts. It was evening by the time food was brought out, if you can call it that. I used my good hand to eat the gruel, it tasted like sour milk but it was the only food I'd find here. After I'd cleaned my bowl I heard the voices of my two captors beside the town's inn, then a third voice, somehow familiar. Casually the two walked towards me with what looked like their superior, I couldn't really tell. I figured it was time for them to discuss how much to ask for my ransom. It'd be a rude awaking for all involved when they found out I wasn't part of the Alliance. Heh, maybe they'd sell me to the goblins instead as an "indentured servant."
A heavily armored orc came towards my cage, covered head to toe in plate. It was a female, I could tell, and a strong one even by orc standards. A thorium axe swung by her side and a massive tower shield rested on her back. This was definitely their captain. As she approached me I sat there, not making eye contact, like I was some sort of bored animal. Compliance is usually the best way to avoid unnecessary complications in these kinds of situations, it keeps security minimal and lips loose. The orc stared at me for what seemed like forever, not saying anything.
"Is everything alright, Commander?" the male scout asked.
The captain threw off her helmet, "Blood and Thunder!"
That voice, I looked up and nearly fainted from surprise, "Nikki?"
"Jack mother fucking Radical, what in Doomhammer's name!?" She held her head like it was about to fly off her body, "How did you get here!?"
The female scout stepped closer, "Commander Blacktusk, you know this human?"
"Know him? When I was a grunt this filthy human bastard nearly got me killed."
I felt a smile flash across my face, "If I remember right, you took a nap and nearly got half the party killed."
"Only because of your terrible healing, whelp."
The two scouts looked at each other nervously, both thoroughly confused and neither one daring to ask what was going on. Nikki turned to them, "Go fetch a shaman, these wounds won't heal themselves."
"Commander Blacktusk-"
"That's an order, soldier!" she said.
"Yes, ma'am!" they said in unison. Both scouts ran across the small town, leaving the two of us alone.
"Commander Blacktusk now is it?" I said, nursing my wounded shoulder.
Nikki picked her helmet up and held it under her arm, "Technically it's Legionnaire Blacktusk, but commander just rolls off the tongue."
"Never figured you for officer material, you always seemed like a front line fighter."
She glanced at her rank emblazoned on her metal sleeve, "Yeah, well, ten years of patrols and training grunts is enough for anyone."
"I hear that."
She shook her head, "I can't let you out of this cage, you know. Not yet anyway."
"Yeah, I understand," I said, leaning back against the bars.
"What are you doing out here? Last I heard you were off to join the Order of the Silver Hand."
"I did," I replied, "It's a long story but I'm not a paladin anymore."
Nikki shook her head, "Got yourself kicked out, huh? Those late nights at the taverns caught up with you?"
"Nah, nothing like that," I said.
Nikki smirked but took a closer look at me. I was skin and bones and completely disheveled. "You look like hell, Jack. What's going on?"
"I got shot," I said, "twice."
"I mean before that," she replied, "What's a guy like you doing hunting crocolisks in the swamp? You look one pants size away from a Forsaken."
"How's your sex life, Nikki?"
She shoved the cage, "God damn it, Jack. I can throw you back in the muck where I found you."
"Ow!" I said, my head bouncing off the metal bars, "I can't talk about it, alright?"
"There are no secrets in my jail, human," she said in a stern voice, "If you don't start talking I'm going to make you talk." Nikki didn't appear to be joking, all friendly exteriors disappeared when she became worried about the safety of her men. She made a good officer.
I let out a sigh, "I had a bad contract."
"My grandmother could handle a bad contract. I know your deals have gone sour before."
"This was different, it was real bad." I lowered my gaze, unsure what to say. This was exactly the wrong person I should be talking to about this kind of thing. "I saw… I did some things. I don't want to go into details, but they're things I gotta live with. Things the Light can't forgive."
She folded her arms, "Such as?"
I looked her in the eye, "I really don't want to go down that road again. I promise it had nothing to do with the safety of the orcs. It's no concern to anyone in this town."
She stared at me long and hard, "You don't make my life easy, Jack."
The two scouts returned with the shaman in tow. He was an aged and bent orc who looked like he'd been here as long as the town. Both the scouts saluted as he approached me.
Nikki put her helmet on, "Heal him up, then you two, stand guard for the rest of the evening. I'll send someone to relieve you at nightfall."
"Yes, ma'am!" they said, snapping to attention.
The shaman's healing was fast and skilled but the raw muscle and skin would take time to feel better. My wounds mended, he left me in the company of my guards, both of which seemed less abrasive and more curious about their charge now. This gave me time to think about what I was going to say to Nikki. But what could I say? That the Horde's new allies are conjuring their power from a captured Naaru? That I helped them? Oh, hey Nikki, yeah I had to make a choice between genocide and allowing a creature of the Light to slowly be tortured to death. I went a little batty and ended up moving away from civilization as my sanity left like so many alimony checks to my ex-wife. Hope that makes sense.
I mulled it over for a while, the two guards staring at me off and on. Passersby would throw me a look of disgust or amusement and I could overhear their ridicule of the dirty human to one another. It was typical of the Horde but at least it wasn't disingenuous. Unlike Silvermoon City, I knew exactly where these orcs stood. After a couple hours of silence one of the scouts turned to me, his curiosity finally getting the better of him, "You speak orcish, human?"
"No," I lazily replied.
"No talking to the prisoner, Kralak," his companion said. She was the smarter one for sure.
The male orc grunted, "Stupid human, you want us to open this cage and finish the job?"
I sat there, not even looking at him, "I want you to try."
"Gah! I will feed you your own tongue!" he said, pounding the cage with his fist. The shock sent me tumbling to my side.
"Kralak!" His companion shoved him, "The commander will have both our heads if he is harmed!"
He shoved her back, "Don't reprimand me, Dralah!" He turned back to me, "You're lucky the commander values your life, scum. I'd flay you and use your skin for a rug."
"I'm right here," I said.
The orc's temper began to boil over. I could see the veins in his head push to the surface as he gripped the bars. Dralah tried to pull him away and he lashed out, swiping at her with a growl. This in turn caused her to smack him upside the head, "Get a grip, Kralak!"
"Don't touch me, whelp!" he replied, swinging at her.
His fist missed by a mile, which just let Dralah shove him down, "You are acting like a child, letting this human wind you up!"
He sat on the grass, taking a moment to think before getting up, "Yes…" He turned to me, "A clever trick, human. We shall be watching you closely."
"I was watching your mother closely last night," I said.
"What did you say?"
"IF you know what I mean, Kralak."
"WHAT!?" The orc ran at the cage and shook it vigorously, sending me bouncing around like a toy, "I shall tear your jaw from your head!"
"KRALAK!" his companion belted him across the face.
"ENOUGH!" Nikki came marching up behind them, pulling them apart like squabbling siblings. "You call yourselves soldiers of the Horde?!"
"Ma'am!" they both said, saluting.
"Get to the barracks and tell the night shift to get out here. Then report to the front gate, both of you just earned double-duty."
"Yes ma'am!" they said, running off to the far side of town.
Nikki walked before the cage, "Jack, take it easy on them."
"Sorry, I didn't realize the Horde was-"
"You don't want to finish that sentence," she snapped.
I stopped short, choking on my words.
Nikki took her helmet off, "I'm giving you one last chance. Either you tell me what you're doing out here playing swampman or I ship your ass back to Orgrimmar for ransom negotiations."
Staring at Nikki I weighed my options. On the one hand, I'd likely get myself killed in Orgrimmar or sold into servitude to the goblins. On the other hand, if I told her what the Blood Elves were doing, she'd report it all the way up the chain. They'd be exiled by the Horde, or worse.
"Well?"
"Can I trust you not to tell another soul?"
"That depends," she said, "Does this involve anything that might endanger my troops?"
"No, I already told you, it has nothing to do with the orcs," I said.
"Then what is it?"
I looked away for a moment while I considered what I was about to say. "I was doing a contract for the Blood Elves. Consulting work in Silvermoon a couple years back."
"THAT is your bad contract?" she exclaimed, "What, did they get your tea wrong?"
"Would you let me finish?"
She crossed her arms, "Oh this is going to be good."
"I was teaching them how to control the Light again, very technical stuff, they didn't remember much since their loss during the Third War."
"Uh-huh."
"I thought they were on the right path, they seemed to be getting the hang of it but they kept channeling it wrong." I took a deep breath, "Their faith has waned too far, they've begun channeling the Light through another being."
"Through another… what, exactly?"
"They called it a Naaru, it's this enormous creature of pure Light. Their mages bound it to their barracks, siphoning it like a mana crystal."
Nikki dropped her helmet, "Are you serious!? You're not serious."
I shook my head, "It was captured when the Dark Portal opened."
Nikki raised a hand to her forehead, "I saw the Naaru when I was on the front lines in Outland! Those things are so powerful… how did they capture one!?"
"I don't know," I replied. "I couldn't say anything about it. If I did, the Silver Hand would go ballistic. They'd order a crusade against the entire Blood Elf nation."
Nikki paced back and forth in front of the cage, "Jack, how could you just sit on this!? I have to report this to my superiors! The Blood Elves will be-"
"They'll be publicly denounced and removed from the Horde," I said. "Weakened and alone they'll be attacked in retribution. And then they'll all die."
"If they're keeping a being that good and pure in chains they deserve whatever comes of this," she said.
"It's not all of them, Nikki!" I said, grabbing the bars. "Most of them don't even know, only the Blood Knights."
She glared at me incredulously.
"That's why I couldn't say anything. I can't have all those innocent lives on my hands because of a few arrogant paladins."
Nikki looked me in the eye, her expression hard, "You always were the one with the conscience."
I let out a pained, dry laugh, "Conscience? Nikki, I'm letting a Naaru be tortured to death. It begged me," I reached through the bars, grabbing her armor, "it pleaded for me to help, to do anything. And I turned my back on it for a bunch of arrogant elves."
She gently pulled my hands off her as I collapsed to my knees, emotionally exhausted. Tears streaked my face but I wasn't sobbing. I was just stunned, my throat was tight as I spoke, "Sometimes I feel it when I sleep, the tingle at the back of my mind. I see it in my dreams. I wake up sometimes and I don't remember where I am or what I'm doing, I just remember that goddamned room."
Running her gauntlet through her fluffy mohawk, Nikki watched me, seemingly at a loss for words. "Jack," she said at last, "You can't blame yourself for this. The Blood Knights are responsible for their own actions."
I took a deep breath, "I know that. In my mind I know I'm not responsible. But it's not that simple, I still feel it. I need to know I did the right thing."
"Sometimes there is no right thing. Sometimes you just have to go with your gut, and whatever happens, happens."
I sat there for a moment, "That sounds familiar."
"It should," she said, "it's what you told me in the Wailing Caverns all those years ago."
"Yeah, after we were all nearly killed fighting that thunder lizard, I remember." I fidgeted with my bandages, it also happened to be what Grelmen told me two years ago. Not that it did much good then.
She picked her helmet up and dusted some of the swamp grass off, "I can't just let you go, Jack, and frankly I think that's for the best. You need some time to get your head straight."
I leaned back in my cage, "Are you going to say anything?"
Nikki shook her head, "No, you were right about one thing. I don't see this being settled without piles of collateral damage. Let's just pray those elves have the god given sense to realize their mistake before it destroys them."
Absently nodding my head I realized the huge weight that was off my chest. It still hurt to think about it but at least now I wasn't alone in the knowledge. "Thanks, Nikki."
"Of course," she said, putting her helmet on. The two nightshift guards came plodding down the muddy path as we finished our conversation, "Just try to get some rest while I figure out what to do with you."
I nodded and then looked down at myself, "Can I at least get a blanket or a pair of pants?"
"I'm sure we can spare that," she said. As the two guards took their posts she left us.
These orcs were much quieter, I could only assume they were thoroughly warned about speaking to the prisoners after what happened to the last two. A peon appeared about half an hour later with a pair of linen pants and a wool blanket for me, making the night much more comfortable. For the first time in weeks I was able to sleep soundly through the night.