Aaand now we finally get to stuff I wrote ages ago but never got around gluing onto the rest of the story.
Dor’ash let out a loud breath and nodded agreement. Personally, he’d be fine with returning to Alterac Valley, but he understood her feelings too.
He sat down, somewhat wobbly and not sure if he’d be able to stand up again anytime soon, as his still movable arm gave him clear signals that it did not want to be used for propping him up. Sarah’s feeble attempts to support him would have been a joke on her part in any other situation – it was laughable, but also bizarre that she did try to help him keep his balance. He hummed a tired thanks at her, unsure what to say. In the next moment she was sitting beside him on the floor, lips pressed tightly together.
The other Forsaken were starting to clean up, looking over their losses and seeing what could be salvaged. Two of them carefully approached the door, waved their arms in the opening and, when nothing happened, stalked outside to check on the ones that had been ripped out of the cave. They returned moments later, shaking their heads.
Shane hobbled towards Dor’ash and Sarah, unceremoniously using his sword as a makeshift crutch. Most of his left leg laid on the floor beside one of the Nerubians.
“This is annoying,” Shane stated in a low voice as he stopped in front of Dor’ash and Sarah.
“What?” Dor’ash asked, too tired to be wary.
“It’s a bother.” Shane made a slight sideways nod towards the draenei. Under the warm glow from Valenia’s hands, Subonai was straightening up. “They’re still fit enough to put up a fight. We couldn’t get close to the shaman and the priestess, and now our rogues are in no condition to sneak up on them.” The Forsaken motioned with his thumb towards a heap of bone and dark leather armor in a corner.
Dor’ash slowly blinked. It took a few seconds before it clicked, and when it did a dark stream of dread poured into his heart. Somehow he managed to bite it back and silently nodded. Once he got over the first shock he wasn’t in the least bit surprised, and that was probably the only reason he could remain calm.
“We’re too weakened to make it clean,” Shane continued. He eyed the orc shaman before him. “What about the last two? We want to be sure they all die.”
Dor’ash nodded again, glad that Sarah remained quiet. He thought fast – when she first appeared, he had told Roxanne that he didn’t want the draenei killed, and she had understood it as merely a question of being honor bound. And Roxanne had been killed by the Nerubians. Judging by Shane’s words now, she had not bothered to tell him about the silly orc’s dilemma about the Alliance filth.
“I can take care of them,” he said.
“Are you sure––”
“They seem to trust me, at least more than you. And they don’t know this area.” Dor’ash forced the shadow of a smirk. “As long as the vindicators are dealt with.”
Shane smiled.
“You won’t have to worry about them for long,” he assured. Dor’ash wanted to grab his rotten head and twist it off his shoulders. He controlled himself though.
“I’ll lead them off,” Dor’ash said, calmly, brushing Sarah’s arm with his knuckles. She mutely looked at him. “And she can make a portal. They can’t.”
Shane nodded, apparently satisfied with this simple plan. Giving a brief salute, he hobbled back towards his kin and ordered them to gather the remains of the fallen and for one of the mages to prepare a portal to the Undercity.
Grunting, Dor’ash worked himself to his feet and headed for the draenei. He had to struggle with himself to not rush, knowing that time was bleeding away for Coran and Subonai. Sarah still said nothing, following him like a thin shadow.
Malo and the others looked around when the orc and undead approached, then glanced towards the Forsaken who were dragging their allies towards a single point on the floor. With some help, Subonai got to his hooves.
“Is that it?” the veteran vindicator suspiciously asked, and the other draenei looked no less doubtful.
Dor’ash couldn’t blame them, especially since they had good reason to be suspicious. He could have tried to say something calming, but the blunt truth was probably the best way to go. They couldn’t waste a single second. He spoke the first word in a growling whisper.
“No.” Then, louder, still in Common now, “we need to get out of here before they change their minds. Or something else comes this way.”
“And go where?” Valenia asked, looking at the exit. The snow storm was not quite so violent as it had been before, but the wind still howled.
“There are other places we can take shelter,” Dor’ash said. He shook his head. “Even if the Forsaken are leaving, the Scourge knows of this place now. There’s no telling if there will be another assault.”
Valenia paled, and both she and Coran quickly looked between Malo and Subonai. The draenei shaman didn’t hesitate for a moment.
“I see no reason for distrust at this point,” Malo firmly said. “And I wish to be away from here.”
Subonai growled. Unlike Malo, he seemed to see reason to doubt. Yet, he nodded.
“You walk first,” he snapped at Dor’ash.
“Very well.” Dor’ash was not in a mood to be annoyed at Subonai’s tone. Whatever got all of them away from the cave while there was still time, he was prepared to deal with.
Even if the draenei hurried to toss their abandoned cooking tools and blankets on the nervous elekks’ backs, it seemed to Dor’ash that it took forever. He didn’t speak, just watched and tried to stay calm. There were no signs showing on Coran or Subonai that they had been poisoned, but Dor’ash didn’t doubt that Shane had spoken true. There had been many close brushes before and during the main fight, when one of the undead rogues could have struck without notice. Too much going on to take heed of a small sting, and even plate armor had openings. Especially the draenei’s tails, while they too had some armor, were open for attack.
It didn’t matter where they had been struck. Dor’ash glanced at Sarah, who looked back in silence. He felt uneasy, not daring to speak to her about it yet. If the Forsaken suspected that he had no actual plans to lead the draenei to their deaths, there would be trouble.
Malo looked at Dor’ash briefly, then grabbed the orc’s bags from the ground and tied them to the saddle of one of the elekks.
“Let’s leave this place,” the draenei shaman said, grasping his mounts’ reins.
Nodding, Dor’ash motioned at them to follow him. Sarah walked by his side as he headed for the exit. Even if the two of them walked in a fairly straight line, the draenei took a longer route to stay away from both the toiling Forsaken and the fallen Nerubians.
They were seemingly ignored by the undead, but Dor’ash didn’t relax even when he stepped outside and the wind hit him in the face with an onslaught of icy pinpricks. He looked down when Sarah ducked around him. She merely moved to the other side of him, so that his bulk protected her against the worst wind.
Looking around, Dor’ash watched to make sure that all the draenei and their mounts made it out of the cave safe. The wind was too hard to carry on a conversation, and he did not want to say anything yet either way. He merely waved at them to keep following him, and set off deeper into the whirling snowflakes.
It was a slow walk. Painfully slow. At best the snow rose up to his knees, and the wind relentlessly tugged at him. Sarah grasped his arm and let his steps drag her forwards, in an attempt to not fall behind. He half turned and bent down then, bending his good arm towards his chest. She looked at him doubtfully.
“You’re hurt!” she yelled to be heard over the wind.
“No time. Up!” he replied.
After another second of hesitation she grasped his shoulderpad and clambered onto his arm, seating herself with her knees against his chest. He straightened, not too bothered with her weight as she hardly had any to speak of. Still, he hoped even more than before that he would not slip on a snow covered patch ice and fall.
Carrying Sarah on his arm like a freakish child did at least make it possible for him to speak with her at a normal tone, one that he didn’t have to worry about would be heard by others. Not in that hard wind.
“How much time do we have?” he asked her, speaking close to the remains of one of her ears to be sure.
Her hands clenched against his shoulderpad, and she pulled herself up to get her mouth closer to his ear in turn.
“I don’t know what they used,” she said.
Dor’ash sighed and nodded. Figured. He was about to ask her about his theory of a possible cure, but when he threw a glance at the draenei he saw Coran stagger and raise a hand to his high forehead, a confused, uneasy look on his face.
Growling, Dor’ash turned and faced the others, moving back enough to speak with them. He wasn’t sure if they had gotten far enough away from the cave, but he could no longer see it through the whirling snow.
“Are any of the Forsaken following us?” Dor’ash asked. He had to repeat himself before Subonai and Coran heard it well enough to shake their heads in reply. “Good, but we have another problem.”
“Now what?” Subonai yelled, absently leaning on his elekk.
“You have to keep trusting me,” Dor’ash replied in a steady tone. He did lie a little next, though. “I think they poisoned the two of you during the fight.”
For a moment all four of them just stared at him. Sarah huddled closer to his chest, grumbling.
“I didn’t feel anything when I healed them!” Valenia protested. As if to prove her point she reached out and touched Subonai’s plated arm, her fingertips glowing softly. Upon the light brush, however, she froze and her mouth fell open. The vindicator shifted his stance, looking at Coran, who uneasily massaged his forehead.
They all looked at Dor’ash and Sarah again. Even Malo’s face took on a guarded expression.
“I know where to find shelter, but we have to hurry,” Dor’ash grimly said. “We have to work on figuring out an antidote from there.”
Growling, Subonai shook his head in disbelief.
“You’re asking a lot, orc!” he snapped.
“Do you want to live, draenei?” Dor’ash met Subonai’s glare for a moment. His patience hung by a thin hair, indeed. “Not that much to ask, is it?”
Malo stepped forwards and put a hand on Subonai’s armored shoulder, shoving lightly. The movements, as well as the shaman’s face, were tired and haggard, however. His mouth seemed to form a sigh, but the wind tore apart both the sound of it and the small cloud that would have formed in the cold air.
“Enough,” Malo said. He sounded much older than he had before. “This is idiotic.” He looked at Dor’ash. “Right now, you could lead us straight to Kil’jaeden for all I care.”
“I’ll do no such thing,” Dor’ash replied. He might have smiled at Malo’s bizarre words normally, but he was in no mood for that. Turning around, he waved at the draenei to follow him. He was relieved when they did so, climbing into the elekk’s saddles.
For a while, he walked ahead with little help from his eyes. Had he not been a shaman, he would have had a much more difficult time. The spirits of the land answered his prayer murmured through clenched teeth, however, and he listened intently to their urging, trusting them to lead him straight ahead to where he wanted to bring himself and his allies.
Even with guidance it was a precarious walk as he could not use either arm for balance, and the landscape was far from smooth. At first, Sarah lifted her thin arms to shield his eyes from the wind and snow. The second time he swayed, however, nearly loosing his balance because of having to jump down a jagged slope, she made an annoyed “tch!” sound.
“Hold still,” she grumbled and dragged herself up.
She used his arm as a stepping stone at first, reaching around his neck and clasping her hands. Then she clambered down under his good arm and somehow managed to wrap her legs around his waist. It gave him more freedom of movement without putting strain on his wounded arm, while still carrying her.
On the other hand, it had to look positively moronic.
Dor’ash lifted his good arm to see her face and give her a doubtful look.
“Move it, I don’t want to do this for longer than I have to,” she shouted.
After a moment he nodded agreement and continued onwards, not daring to check how the draenei were looking at the two of them. As he walked, he muttered another prayer to the winds, to hide the tracks behind them.
The minutes of walking dragged on, and he was almost starting to wonder if they were making any ground at all, when finally tall shadows emerged within the storm to grow darker and higher for every step forwards.
Dor’ash squinted at the cliffs rising around them. In the snowfall, it was difficult to recognize the familiar angles and dips in the rock formations, however he followed his memories and the whisper of the spirits. Malo and Valenia didn’t even exchange glances when Dor’ash motioned at them to follow, reassuringly, and headed straight towards a solid, frozen wall of rock. As he glanced around Dor’ash didn’t fail to notice that by now, Subonai couldn’t even keep his head up and slumped in his saddle, while Coran at least managed to sit straight.
Even Sarah looked tired, bowing her head against his side. At this point, maybe she was only holding on because her joints had frozen solid.
Reaching the cliff, Dor’ash moved along it until he caught sight of what he had been looking for – a chunk of rock leaning against the natural wall, half buried in snow. Gently urging Sarah to slip down on the ground, he walked around the rock and plunged his good hand into the thick layer of chilly white, brushing it away. The glove could only keep the cold out so well, freezing as he already was, and his fingers quickly numbed. However he ignored it and quickly uncovered what was draped between the rock and the cliff. A thick hide, colored like the stones around it. He unlatched it and pushed it aside. Snow tumbled down all around by the rude motion, revealing the hidden opening behind the cover.
“There should be coals for a fire,” he told Sarah as he waved her inside. A weak, but relieved grin answered him, and she disappeared into the darkness. Just a second later a flame flared up from her hand, illuminating her thin form against the insides of the cave.
Malo and Valenia helped the two vindicators off the elekks, the shaman supporting first Subonai, then Coran inside. Then the shaman and the priestess took turns bringing the elekks into the cave. The opening wasn’t wide enough for more than one animal to enter at the time, but finally Dor’ash could move inside after the final mount. The storm was picking up again, not as badly as the last, but it sent the snow whirling in a whole other way. It should still be enough to hide all their tracks and cover the opening again quickly. He whispered a prayer of thanks to the wind spirits and fastened the hide on the hooks set in the rock.
To close the “door” should have cast the cave in complete darkness save for the fire in Sarah’s hand, but by then she had already found the basket of coals and set a heap of them aflame in a blocky, simple fireplace placed in the middle of the cave. A most welcome warmth slowly spread from the center of the room.
Though looking at the insides of the cave in bewilderment, Valenia and Malo were helping their ailing friends to sit down on two simple beds – just cut slabs of rock close to the fireplace, covered with old furs. There were two more of the same. The elekks were settling down in the back of the cave, where a deeper hollow had been carved. Two of them brushed their trunks into an empty water trough by the wall, sniffing hopefully.
Apart from the well filled basket of coals, along the wall hung a couple of cooking pots and on a natural shelf beside them were a few items such as a grind stone, flint and a closed box of tinder.
“What is this place?” Valenia asked, looking around.
“Frostwolf shelter,” Dor’ash replied as he reached up and took one of the smaller pots from the wall. Going back to the entrance, he unlatched the hide again just enough to reach out and scoop up some clean snow in the container. Closing the door again, he went back and set the pot in the fireplace, beside the burning coals, to let the snow melt.
He could have just asked the elements for help with water, but they had already done so much for him today. Also, it was not the orcish way, to ask the spirits for things which simply could be gained in other ways.
“We have a few of these in the mountains,” he clarified as he walked, then smiled wryly. “No, I shouldn’t really have shown it to you. I believe the Warchief would allow it if he heard the whole story, though. Either way, I don’t think you could find it again.”
“I highly doubt we could,” Malo agreed, taking off his helmet and wiping his high forehead. He didn’t put the helmet back on, but placed it on the floor. He then looked at Subonai, who clawed at the leather straps holding his own plate armor in place. The vindicator looked far from pleased, but the look of him spoke clearly that he needed to lie down, and the armor was in the way.
Without a word Malo went to help Subonai, while Coran fared a little better on his own. Valenia joined too after a moment after glancing between Malo’s discarded helmet and his face. It took a little while, but finally the pieces of armor were gathered on the floor and the vindicators could be helped to lay back.
In the meantime Dor’ash helped himself to his backpack from Malo's saddle, and started digging through it.
Moving her glowing hands in nervous little circles around Subonai’s pale face, Valenia turned her face towards Dor’ash. Her spells probably did very little save slow the poison.
“Why are you helping us so much?” she wondered, her glowing eyes narrowed.
Despite all, or perhaps precisely because of it all, he couldn’t really blame her for her refusal to trust. Her friends were practically dying in front of her.
“If you still don’t believe in my honor,” Dor’ash said in a dry tone, looking up just briefly, “neither I nor Sarah are in a condition to safely make it down the mountain on our own.”
Valenia started to say something along the lines of a weak “it’s not like that,” but hearing the last part of his explanation her mouth snapped shut and she turned away.
“I don’t think she got the joke,” Sarah sneered, speaking Common for the occasion.
Dor’ash just shrugged. His fingers finally met with what he sought, and with a triumphant grunt he took out a small, carefully wrapped package from his backpack.
“This antidote you once gave me,” he said in Common, looking at Sarah, “will it help?”
“That, after Stranglethorn?” she asked, after a quick look at the package in his hand. But she didn’t wait for him to answer, instead turning to thoughtfully study the two vindicators. “Probably. As long as they didn’t use some of our newer concoctions. I wouldn’t be surprised if they did.”
Clenching his jaw, Dor’ash unwrapped the vial. Months had passed since she gave it to him, but the oddly teal colored mixture looked no different than he remembered. When he tilted the container, the liquid slipped around without even leaving a dried coating on the glass walls.
“They’ll have to drink it, since the poison has worked on them for so long already,” Sarah said, lips stretching in an amused smirk. “It’s very foul. But it does it’s job.”
“What if it doesn’t?” Dor’ash asked, giving her a sharp look.
She shrugged.
“They’ll have to walk for a while to find ground suited for burial, I suppose,” she said, reverting back to Orcish.
“What did she say?” Valenia demanded in a high-pitched voice.
“She pretty much said that then, that’s too bad,” Dor’ash said, but his eyes were hard as he looked at Sarah.
She ignored him, wiggling her cold fingers close to the fire. Melting snow and ice slowly soaked into her robe. At least, it looked as if she had no plans to just drag the heavy cloth off of her body and let it dry on its own. Had they been alone, she would have done so already – she felt no shame to show what remained of her body to Dor’ash. The fact that she did not undress, Dor’ash hoped, said something about feeling some shred of respect for the draenei.
“Mix a drop or two in a cup of water,” Sarah suddenly said in Common, looking into the fire still. “It’s no good concentrated. Well, it’ll be a little easier to bear.”
Dor’ash nodded, remembering she had said something of the sort when she gave him the potion. That was one of the reasons why he had gone to fetch snow in the pot earlier.
For a moment, Malo and Valenia looked at each other. Then the priestess took in a deep breath and reached for one of the draenei’s packs. Moving stiffly, she dug out a couple of clay mugs and then went to scoop up melted water in both of them from the pot.
Not without a sense of apprehension, Dor’ash uncorked the vial. However, much to his surprise there was no horrid stench that immediately tried to murder his nose. The liquid only smelled like something akin to sweet dust. When Valenia offered the mugs with slightly shaking hands, Dor’ash carefully tilted the vial above each of them in turn, letting a couple of drops fall into the water. The liquid was thicker than water, and easily formed drops when reaching the edge of the container.
Valenia suspiciously sniffed at the air, frowning. She hesitated for another moment, then handed one of the cups to Malo and headed over to Coran. The vindicator struggled to sit up, drooping as much as Subonai now. He tried to hold the mug when Valenia offered it, but she had to help him. Probably feeling too sick to care anymore, Coran didn’t even hesitate before he started gulping down the medicine. His face didn’t change at all through it, and he laid back down when Valenia took away the mug.
Dor’ash watched this, and when Malo managed to urge Subonai into drinking from the other mug he turned to Sarah.
“I thought you said that thing tastes so bad it makes undead throw up,” Dor’ash said, quirking an eyebrow at her.
“I lied.”
Dor’ash fixed her with one of his long, blank looks, but his head twisted around when Coran made a weak, disgusted sound and reached for his own mouth. Subonai followed suit seconds later, coughing and spitting.
“It’s the aftertaste you should worry about,” Sarah clarified in Common, smiling wide.
Grunting, Dor’ash grabbed the pot and held it out to Valenia as she quickly took out two clean mugs to let the vindicators rinse down the foul taste. Neither of the two men managed to sit up on their own by now, and they heavily fell down again after being helped to a second drink, glowing eyes closed.
“It’s doing something…” Valenia murmured, pressing a hand to Coran’s glistening brow. She was silent for a moment, then looked up with a desperate scowl. “No, it’s just slowing the poison. I can feel it, it’s still there.”
“Are you sure it’s not just slow to work?” Malo said in a tense voice.
Dor’ash didn’t even bother waiting to see Valenia shake her head. He had already turned to Sarah.
“If that wasn’t enough, you could make a working antidote, couldn’t you?” he said. It wasn’t really a question.
Sarah poked at the burning coals with her finger, sending sparks flying as the glowing lumps tumbled. Steam rose from the wet, raw bone of her hand and lower arm.
“Now we’re starting to talk treason,” she stated, in Orcish and a matter of fact voice.
The worst part, he figured later, was how quickly the disbelief passed through him. It was, however, replaced with steel hard determination.
“It’s not treason,” he said with some cold. Unlike her, he spoke Common. “Regard it as a diplomatic gesture.”
She refused to play along and answered him in his native tongue.
“Diplomacy is the forte of your leader,” she said and poked another coal. “Mine would have buried an arrow in each of their glowing eyes by now.”
“Sarah, for the love of the spirits!” Dor’ash snarled.
“All this happened because he had to go and kidnap you!” she snapped, finally looking up and pointing at Coran while sneering. “Forgive me for not feeling very helpful.”
“And what do you think that last yeti would have done to us if he hadn’t killed it?”
With a clatter she sourly folded her arms and looked away.
“Don’t be childish,” he growled.
“I’m being a loyal subject of Lady Sylvanas and the Horde, thank you very much.”
He narrowed his eyes. Well, if she was going to be like that…
“Loyal, are you? Fine, then,” he said. “Technically I am still their prisoner, and for all you know they are holding me hostage.”
Sarah stared up at him in disbelief. Malo and Valenia both mirrored that expression, looking between the kneeling little woman and the huge orc towering over her.
After a moment Sarah’s arms fell to her sides and she shook her head.
“You goddamn green teddy bear,” she muttered.
“I could hold a dagger to my own throat, if that makes you feel better,” he replied. He didn’t care that what he just said was moronic. The whole situation was bizarre, had been for the last few hours.
She just looked at him for another moment, then sighed heavily and turned to the draenei. This time, she spoke Common.
“Do either of you know anything about alchemy?” she gruffly asked.
The two still standing ones exchanged glances.
“I am fairly accomplished in that trade,” Malo admitted after a moment.
“Oh goodie.” Sarah stepped forwards and sat down on the ground a few steps away from him. “Since we’re being traitors today, I’ll just tell you how to make an antidote. Because I assume you don’t want to feed them something I mix up myself.”
She held out a hand, and added:
“But I’m going to need a blood sample. I’m not sure which poison they used.”
Malo pursed his lips, but from one of his bags he produced an empty vial with flat rather than rounded edges around the opening. Then he nodded to Valenia. Though she looked uneasy she took out a dagger and made a cut in Coran’s arm, over the area where the poisoned wound had been. Blood dripped out and Malo held his vial just below the slash, collecting the blue liquid. Once it was half full, he removed the glass container and handed it to Sarah, while Valenia healed the vindicator once again.
While that was going on, Sarah rummaged around in one of her bags and pulled out a few empty vials of her own, as well as several small, differently colored bottles. She even took out a small metal scaffold to put vials in to keep them upright. Once Malo offered the blood, she took it and swiftly divided it between containers that she lined up in the scaffold.
Her work was brisk and methodical, unaffected by the fact that she had a tense audience.
“By the way, handsome,” Sarah suddenly said, while dripping the contents of one of the bottles into a blood vial, “are you trying to complete a collection?”
“Hmm?” Dor’ash said, raising an eyebrow at her.
She corked the vial and looked up while holding it between two fingers and shaking it to blend the liquid inside. Whatever she had mixed the blood with, it took on a much darker shade of blue.
“I’m just saying,” she said. “First that moron Thomas, then you wouldn’t kill the nelf bear in Azshara, and now you’re making friends with a bunch of space goats.” She snorted. “Just so we’re clear, the moment you as much as start talking with a gnome, I’m outta here.”
“Why then, I thought you hated elves the most?” Dor’ash said, lips twitching.
“Elves are annoying and think too highly of themselves. But at least they aren’t freakin’ creepy.”
Dor’ash stared at her for a moment, then he smirked and shook his head. Had the situation been a little less tense, he would have laughed, but the joke wasn’t enough to make him ease up that much.
“Are you scared of gnomes?” Malo asked, watching Sarah with his eyebrows raised.
“Scared, no, but haven’t you seen them walk?” Sarah said, using two fingers of her free hand to demonstrate the quick, pudgy way of striding. “Also, some of them have pink hair. Pink. They’re hideous. And that’s coming from…”
“And that’s coming from a talking corpse,” Dor’ash spoke along with her.
Malo and Valenia exchanged the glances of two people not knowing whether they or their company has gone insane.
Dor’ash still smirked lightly, an expression Sarah returned. The fact that she had been safely returned to him was still sinking in, and he would have wanted to keep up their joking for a long time.
In a second he turned serious, however, and tapped his finger at the air in the direction of the mixture she was still absentmindedly shaking. There were more important issues at hand.
Rolling her entire head, Sarah held up the vial, tilted, in one hand and pointed at it from below with the other. At her mumbled spell a small flame appeared above the tip of her pointing finger, licking at the bottom of the glass container. After a little while the liquid began to ooze.
Ceasing the spell, Sarah held up the vial in front of her eyes and frowned. Slowly, the smoke within it faltered and the mixture settled. It looked just the same as before she let it boil.
With an annoyed sound Sarah uncorked the vial, releasing a foul, metallic smell. She just poured the mixture into a crevasse in the ground and started over with another vial and some other ingredients. Meanwhile, Coran and Subonai’s breathing only grew more strained and the tension in the air spiked at the same rate. Sarah didn’t seem to notice it.
It took four tries until she let hear a triumphant sound. The latest blend thickened in the vial, moving slowly as syrup as she tilted the thin, long bottle back and forth. The color, also, went from dark blue to a disturbing, blackish indigo.
“It would have been brown if it was human blood…” Sarah absentmindedly muttered.
“Fascinating, now what about the antidote?” Dor’ash said.
“Ah yeah.” She straightened up and looked at the very anxious-looking, conscious draenei. “It’s pretty simple.”
… Dor’ash holding himself hostage to make Sarah work was one of the reasons I wanted to write this story 
