AN: I regret nothing about that tittle.

They had seen the worst the Scourge had to offer.

They had spent months in the frozen hell that was Northrend gaining ground against the Lich King Inch by painful inch, each advanced stained with the blood and sacrifice of the fallen.

Against impossible odds they succeeded in usurping the Lich King from his frozen throne, claiming victory where all others had known only defeat.

So it was with great bewilderment (and embarrassment when this tale was later retold for official reports, needless to say they records may have been altered slightly,) to see the mighty Argent Crusade seemingly fall into fits of panic over one fallen Paladin and the Shaman who attacked her.

Bewilderment to some, but not to one.

For she remembered, that in their 'glorious' campaign against the Lich King, that the Crusade spent several months within a stone's throw of their enemies front door step (ugh) jousting.

So to see the chaos one little Paladin's foolish actions wrought, from the same brilliant minds that build their strong hold atop old nerubian catacombs even knowing they were in the heart of enemy territory and yet still being so shell-shocked when it was revealed…

No, bewilderment was not the word.

Crimson was in fact, amused.

To see how the actions of a few and the in-actions of many could so easily tip the scales of peace into such chaos was never something that ceased being entertaining for the warlock.

Several soldiers ran past her and a few stopped and hesitated when they saw the warlock lingering in the shadows, but none remained for long when her golden gaze flickered in their direction. They quickly returned to their course and raced off to see if they could help, many who hesitated where most likely attempting to work up the nerve to ask the warlock why she was not.

Crimson snorted at that thought as she retreated further into the shadows, growing weary of prying eyes yet her eyes never once left the drama unfolding before her. Her lips curling into a smile as she watched Braelyn attempt to hurl herself at the apparently stunned Arsiok, it took three Paladin's, one Tauren, to have modest success holding her back. Seeing how she wouldn't be able to punch his lights out restrained as she was, reverted to a rather profound string of curses in both Common and Thalasian making several around her blush at her volatile behavior and word choice.

Help indeed… what more did they need her for? They seemed to be... managing on their own.

Of course, she could have stopped him before hand, she seen him stomp toward Braelyn and had more than an inkling of what would occur in his abysmal mood. Besides, why delay the inevitable? After all that occurred, the boy was bound to have a tantrum sooner or later, what with the old woman's constant mollycoddling. If anything, having his tantrum now might prevent harm, well… further harm, to Leyla later and make Crimson's few remaining days in town interesting.

A commotion drew her attention to the main keep where she could see both Tirion and Geyla running toward the mess, concern and panic visibly etched in both their faces.

She smirked before withdrew into the shadows even further as the pair rushed passed without a glance at her, Tirion trying fruitlessly to restore any semblance of order while Geyla screamed at Arsiok demanding to know he had done, while the orc simply stood there, silent and unmoving.

She chuckled before being enveloped by the shadows completely, a flash of gold before she disappeared to a more ideal location.

"Most interesting indeed…"

To say Braelyn was mad was an understatement, mad was when she argued with the hunter trainers in Goldshire, or when Bitey chewed up most of her arrows. No, Braelyn wasn't mad.

She was livid.

After being restrained in her attempts to beat the crap out of Arsiok, she was brought (dragged) to the nearest building, which happened to be the chapel. Those that had restrained her kept a wary eye on her as they released her once they were inside while the gnome and night elf priest within did their best to try to sooth the slightly rabid hunter. Needless to say, all attempts at any sort of soothing came to a halt after she punted the gnome over pews and head butted the night elf square in the face.

She was in the middle of trying to glare down her 'guards' when Halthenis swept into the room, looking rather flustered.

"Lady Hawke!" he cried and hurried over to her, a nervous smile filtering across his face when he caught sight of the still enraged hunter. When he caught sight of her obvious anger he stuttered to a halt just within an arm's length of her.

"You're alright? The beast didn't harm you did he?" he said worriedly as his eyes swept over her, trying to gauge if she had sustained any injuries.

For a moment, Braelyn felt her anger falter and she went to reply that she was fine, until Halthenis made the mistake of saying the very wrong thing.

"It's a good thing that Paladin was there just in time to shield us, or else you and I would have taken the brunt of that monster's attack."

Braelyn immediately once again swelled with anger and his statement.

"That PALADIN? She has a name you know! It's LEYLA! Don't make it sound she was simply a useful shield that just happened to be on hand!" she hissed venomously, causing Halthenis to flinch and draw back slightly, only for Braelyn's hand to snake out and twist into an iron grip hold on his tabard. Ignoring his squirming she continued on her tirade.

"Especially since the majority of what happened was you FAULT! Why would you be so stupid as to aggravate an already ideated orc, one who you apparently know is rather volatile?"

"Forgive me, my Lady" Halthenis stuttered as Braelyn's hold on his tabard and tightened to the point where it was getting difficult to breath, "But seeing him brought up some rather… painful memories of what his brother has-" He was cut off by Braelyn giving him a violent shake.

"So that just gives you the right to attack him like that?! Did you see what you've done?! Leyla was seriously hurt because of your… your… stupid EGO! She could be crippled! She could be dead!" She punctuated each statement with a rather violent shake. Before Halthenis could even muster a retort another voice sternly interjected.

"That's enough Miss Hawke. Release him."

Even though she knew that voice, Braelyn very begrudgingly released her hold on the blood elf and took a step away, still angry.

"Highlord." She ground out, doing her best to keep eye contact with the floor boards.

Tirion's gaze flicked between the frazzled blood elf and the disgruntled hunter, who was doing her damndest to not make eye contact with anyone, except for the floorboards she seemed to be so intently interested in. He couldn't help let a worn sigh slip out and his shoulders slightly, how could a day that started off so ordinary spiral into chaos so quickly? He should have been use to chaos after his campaign in Northrend but it was one thing to go toe to toe with the worse amalgamations the scourge has to offer as oppose to watching his men run around like agitated murlocs.

It had started about an hour prior to the incident, he was enjoying a lovely spot of tea, a rather rare tea that only came from Mulgore which, oddly enough, Crimson had brought him. He had been slightly surprised by the gift and had started to ask the occasion. However, Crimson just smiled her most innocent smile and said that she thought it would help him relax and then strolled away without another word. Many would have been appalled be the audacity of the warlock leaving before she was dismissed but Tirion had long learned that it was simply best for everyone involved that not to step her toes needlessly. Besides, he found her trait of filtering off without a care slightly endearing… not that he would admit it out loud of course. He just had some of the leaves brewed while he started to go over his paperwork, not dwelling on the question of how a human (although there were many who thought she was otherwise) was able to procure a rare tea from completely, usually heavily defended, Horde area.

Nearly an hour later he was still shifting his way through the paperwork, currently working on return letter to the regent Lord of Quel'thalas. Even though they preferred not to rely on each other, they were still the closest allies either had and so did their best to remain somewhat civil towards one another. The blood elves had sent one of their rangers as ambassador to discuss trade and troops among the Paugeland's as well as the Gostlands, there was also mention of wanting to clear out the old high elf ranger post in a attempt to reclaim some lost heritage for the blood elves and possibly turn it into another outpost for the Crusade. He was mid-way through writing his letter when something black came into view out of the corner of his eye.

Crimson, it seems, has wandered back in. No surprise there really, she wandered where and when she wanted, whether it be coming or going.

"I see your enjoying the tea" she stated simply.

He looked up to replay but fell short when he saw the look in her eyes.

Mischief.

Mischief not seem like a reason for the Highlord to be warry of, but that was in regards to a normal person's idea of mischief. Crimson's idea of mischief usually meant pain and discomfort (and occasionally death or dismemberment if you asked some) for many and powerful migraine for himself.

"Yes." He stated while warily eying his tea cup. Maybe he shouldn't have agreed to the third cup.

Noticing his glare at the offending cup Crimson let loose a light airy laugh, which served to do nothing save cause the pit of dread in his stomach to deepen.

"Come now, there's wrong with it. It's quite good isn't it?"

"It is." He moved his gaze from his cup to the warlock, the look of mischief still evident in her eyes.

Not good.

"What have you done Crimson?" he asked, slightly not wanting to know the answer.

"Yes, it's made from a rather rare herb you know. I can't seem to remember the name of it though." She continued as he never asked his question.

"It is rather calming is it not?" she asked innocently.

"It rather is I suppose." He huffed, still trying to figure out what she was up to.

"Good, try to hold on to that in a minute." She said sweetly.

Before he could ask anything further his attention was pulled away by the enormous racket outside his office before his door were promptly thrown open by several of the young trainee's.

"Please sir! You have to come!" one of them begged eyes wide with fear and shock.

"Hold on lad, what's the problem?" he asked gently. Only to be drowned out by terrified babble.

"So much blood!"

"I think she's dead!"

"She can't be dead! She used her divine shield!"

"But the blood! How can she not be?!"

Tirion quickly became alarmed, blood, dead? Who was dead?

"Calm lad! Tell me, who is hurt?" he asked sternly. But they were too far gone, lost in terrified babble and shock.

He turned his gaze back to Crimson, only to find her gone.

Sighing, he turned back to panicked trainees and his Honor Guard that started flooding in now too.

Calm… yeah right.

Sighing, he thought of how quickly things had taken a turn for the worse as he learned the severity of the situation.

To his relief Leyla was not dead, but was losing blood fast, despite aid of healers on hand. Geyla who had heard the commotion as well and had met him halfway out the keep was off to the side yelling at Arsiok, demanding to know what he had done. The boy didn't say a word or move at all, he seemed too stunned to do so, his attention seemingly fixed on the dying Paladin at his feet.

Making him an easy target for an enraged hunter to fling herself at.

Tirion began barking orders: calm the trainee's down, get Leyla to healing room and have the orc restrained and put in the dungeon.

Everyone scrambled to do as he said and he soon found himself before a still very irate Braelyn Hawke and a blood elf ambassador looking slightly worse for wear.

He asked them both to re iterate what happened from their standing point. As they spoke he felt the makings of a lovely migraine form rapidly and it was all he could do not to start banging his head against the nearest wall.

To have what he was told a powerless orc, attack two people.

One of them was an ambassador of a race that relationships were strained enough as it were, then one of his own to slightly manhandle said ambassador.

Then another of his nearly killed and could still die any minute.

And one very, very, pissed off hunter.

It looked like he needed to amend his letter to the Regent Lord.

But first, there was a certain pissed off hunter to deal with and he had just the method for dealing with her wrath.

"Miss Hawke," he began, getting her attention at last, "since you are one of the injured parties in this incident, I feel it only fair that you be given the right to deal with some of those responsible for the severity of what occurred. Namely, the young trainees who did nothing but gaggle at your predicament."

"Deal with them how?" she asked cautiously.

"They are yours to deal with as you see fit, however, no mangling if you can help it" he hastily added the last part. Last thing he needed was to see that lynx of his running happily around with a night elf arm dangling from its mouth.

"Understood, may I start with the 'discipline' now Highlord?"

He nodded and as soon as he did she bowed her head in acknowledgment and headed briskly out the door, not being hampered by the guards not wishing to incur the hunter's wrath upon themselves. He could her calling outside for her lynx.

"Bitey! Com'ere, we got some gawkers to deal with and I need you at their heels at their boots!"

He winced slightly and slightly regretted his decision… but better them then him.

He turned his attention on the uncomfortable looking blood elf still in the room, who looked slightly pale at hearing Braelyn shouting as she had.

"Ambassador, I am truly sorry for what has transpired here in your short visit. If you would return to your room I will send up a healer to check you over for injuries and one of the cooks with some food as soon as I am able."

The blood elf simply gave a stiff nod and left for his destination.

Tirion left soon after and winced as shrieking and screams of terror drifted over to him. Followed by the sounds of a happy lynx and wrathful hunter.

He winced again when he heard a rather prominent shriek, followed by the sounds of someone telling him to shut up and keep running.

Light have mercy on their souls.

Ugh, he needed more tea.

Geyla was angry. She was angry that the guards refused to let her see her student, angry at her student for seriously injuring the poor girl… but mostly she was angry for herself for not doing more to prevent it.

After being refused admission to the dungeon, she had wandered into the quietest area she could find, it appeared to be a small library judging from the shelfs of books.

Confined in the quietness of the room her anger gave way to a deep sadness. How? How could it have come to this? She remembers the sickly little orc he once was. How he was always giggling, though they were punctured by coughs wracking his frail body. How his eyes would light up in joy and wonder when he started to commune with the elements and they would respond in kind.

All at once she feel the weight of her memories come crashing onto her shoulders as she hunched over the nearest table in attempt to steady herself.

How did the sweet innocent she knew turn into what he is now?

As pondered the events of her past, what went wrong, she became aware that she was no longer alone.

"Interesting isn't it? How things can change so rapidly, how the years quickly fall to dust?" an amused voice said.

Geyla strained up and whirled around looking for the source, finding that it was none other than the warlock she had seen around Highlord Fordring sitting in push armchair, seemingly skimming a dark tome in her lap, a cup of tea on the small end table next to her, not even looking at the elder shaman.

"Peering into my thoughts with your dark arts?" she snapped, in no mood to deal with this woman.

The warlock didn't look up from her book but a smirk came onto her face.

"Don't be absurd, given the situation it is fairly obvious to figure out what you're thinking about." She stated mildly, still not even bothering to look up.

"If you're so informed on the subject, why didn't you attempt to stop it from happening?" she snarled, at the end of her very little patience.

It was at this that warlock finally lifted her gaze to meet the shaman, who eyes were alight with renewed anger. There was no emotion on the warlock's face, save for a small smile.

"Me? What about you? Why didn't you stop it?" she asked.

"How could have I done anything, I didn't learn of the incident until it was too late, I had no time."

"Yes, you did, you had years even. So why be angry at myself when it was you who was simply to slow to act? Hmm… or was it too scared?" the warlock pondered thoughtfully, completely ignoring the surprised orc in favor of having a sip of her drink.

There was a moment of silence before the warlock spoke again.

"Did you know, that this tea comes from a very special herb? It's quite rare, found only in the lush valley of Mulgore."

Geyla frowned at the abrupt change of topic, "what does tea have to-"

"rare as it is," the warlock continued without noticing or caring she cut Geyla off, "it still takes a skilled hand to blend the leaves properly into making or it very easily turn into something foul and very drinkable." She paused to take another sip still ignoring the confused glares the shaman was aiming at her.

"Obviously, the most skilled tea makers with such an herb are those that reside in Mulgore, Thunder Bluff specifically." Another sip, anther glare ignored.

"Ah, but the thing about Thunder Bluff… or so I've heard, is that it can be notoriously difficult, what with all the buildings squished into one area, to find anything let alone a certain tea maker."

"So difficult in fact, that I suspect it is easy for one to become quite lost… do you know… the most interesting things people stumble onto when their lost… especially in a place like that. Why, it could be anything! From a drunken blood elf sleeping one off, a pair of troll rolling some dice… even an old orc shaman discussing an interesting dream to a friend of hers."

Geyla count help it, she gasped in surprise. Out of all the things she expected from the loud mouthed warlock that was not one of them.

"Odd isn't it? To describe something as simple as a dream and in such vivid detail too. After all dreams are just figments of imagination and memory."

Geyla could feel her fist clenching and unclenching as the warlock continued on.

"But then, to go from speaking of a dream to something seemingly as unrelated as certain members of the Kor'kron, the oddities continue grow it seems!"

Clench, unclench, clench. Did this warlock love the sound of her own voice?

"As odd as all that may seem it seems odder still that she would be speaking of such things so openly! Why, if one can stumble upon such a discussion by accident, think of what other little birds might be listening as well!"

Geyla paled at this. She didn't think of that, didn't think of anything besides of acting before it was too late.

No, no! But that spot was safe surely it was! They weren't listening, they couldn't have… please…no…

The warlock, seemingly finished with her tea, looked up to the orc again and her face fell into a look a fake sympathy.

"Oh my, what's wrong elder? Not a fan of birds? Well, you're not the first I've met. There's a dwarf woman I know in Ironforge who simply hates them, pigeons especially."

Geyla makes no move to respond, still griping the table tightly as if she'd keel over if she let go.

Placing the cup back on the table the warlock stood up with the tomb tucked under her arm.

"Ah, enough of my ramblings. I'm sure you have enough to deal with." She made for the door and left without another word, a small smirk still lingering on her lips.

She stood there for what seemed like hours, trying to think of a way, a way to save her student, to fix anything.

She knew that by attacking the blood elf ambassador, the Highlord would be put in a difficult situation and have to inform blood elf leadership of what occurred. With everything Arsiok was suspected of being involved in, there was no way the elves would let it go without his head as vindication.

There was only way to give him an even slim chance of survival but it hinged on the Paladin's survival, it would work with no other, that she was sure.

Drawing a shaky breath, she moved away from the table, out of the library.

She had preparations to make.

Ancestors forgive me. She thought bitterly.

Because I know those here will not.

.gerrrrrrrrrrrrd. It took, so long to get around to finishing this thing! I started months ago dangit! dfjdfksljfd...

Thanks as always to Amcm74 and Mythique for inspiration and their characters! (hope Crimmy isn't too awful here, she's a tricky bugger to write :p)

And a bonus special thanks to Bohmzawe for her lovely review of my other story, Tyrant's End. Been stressed lately and your kind words cheered me up a lot :D, one of reason I wanted to get this out now. that and its been bugging me for moooonthhhhhhs. bah.

Next Time: just what is geyla planning? what is Crimson planning... (is she even planning anything or just screwing people around for giggles?) How will the blood elves react when they find out what happened? is leyla dead?! (..no) what role does she play?! will Braelyn accidentally on purpose run the trainees to death?! WILL CRIMSON EVER REMEMBER THE NAME OF THAT HERB?