“It was then that we realised Bloodboil’s fiends were a little more fierce-some than we originally anticipated,” Chizuamaya confessed, drawing her fingertip along the tip of her wine glass.  Her glowing gaze remained fixed on the pale liquid within, the faint hint of green grape present in the mix.  While she had chosen not to drink it, it had been with great insistence that the human had order it.  “They are infused with uh…” it was here that she paused and wracked her brain for an appropriate phrase to use.  She could say it in her own tongue but the unfortunate human would be completely clueless at to what she had just said.

“Fel energies, strange blood…” clearing her throat she paused and lifted her gaze somewhat to eye the human.  They had chosen to return to their usual seating arrangements.  Sat across the table from one another, both had savoured the opportunity to allow their shoulders to be warmed by the fire as they conversed. Admittedly both armoured individuals were incredibly out of place in a casual gathering place.  Those who came to taverns often wore more fitting clothes but when had either paladin or shaman conformed to society’s ideals?

Rarely.

Actually, it would be more accurate to assume that Tsnumi forced himself to conform for important gatherings but the shaman… Well, she had strived to be as awkward as possible.  When she hadn’t been quite so battle worn her dress sense had been loud and lively, when she had adopted the role as a veteran she rarely appeared without her armour.  Thus, formal dresses and flowery outfits were not a viable option for her contrary to what dress code may require.

“It caused them to mutate, they became double if not triple their size and swung their weapons with such strength and proficiency that - ” she stopped abruptly and shook her head, recalling the many troops that had been flung feet into the air upon collision with the monstrous weaponry.  The skills of her fellow healers had ensured their survival but it had taken more than one troop to destroy the beasts that Illidan had chosen to create.  If she was honest and accurate in her assumptions she could estimate that it had taken them at least three weeks to press through those halls alone given the abominations that lurked within.

“However you did rid that area of them correct?” The paladin, disciplined in his ways also appeared to be nursing his drink.  Neither seemed to deem it appropriate to drink on the job, even though the Draenei was technically on vacation her mind remained on the battlefield.  One might have safely assumed that both nursed their drinks to avoid being snapped at by the disgruntled barmaids and those who lacked seats. However, while Chizuamaya maintained her decorum the mischievous part within her rather felt that a bar-brawl would have been entertaining!

“The halls of Gurtogg Bloodboil are now empty,” the Draenei confirmed with a curt nod and a half smile.  Her expression alone was enough to indicate that she was incredibly satisfied and proud of her troops.  Both alliance and horde had worked tirelessly within those halls and that work had paid off – one more portion of the ‘Black Temple’ had been cleared and would be cleansed in time. By the time she had been reassigned the troops had breached the defences upon the Council and progressed swiftly towards Illidan’s perch.  

They all made her proud.

Every last one of them…

“Something to celebrate then if the Shadowmoon Valley is slowly loosening the grasp the Legion have upon it,” Tsnumi observed, his eyes lifting somewhat as a number of ‘foreign’ individuals entered the tavern.  Admittedly ‘foreign’ was used rather loosely given that there were so many races now lurking on Azeroth – he most often referred to individuals who rarely visited as such things.  They were foreign to Goldshire and thus, foreigners.  That being said he was aware of one of the individuals, her companions were unfamiliar to him but he could at least place a name to her face.

Oddly enough, the last time he had seen her she had not been with child and he could do nothing more than raise a brow.  Really he hadn’t been aware that time passed quite so quickly and given the life span of Draenei he doubted that children developed rapidly in their wombs.  Evidently that particular individual had been away from Goldshire for more than a number of months, he arched a brow at this and mused over the reasoning behind so many returning at this particular time.

Fate worked in strange ways.

“Something is wrong?” It was more a statement than a question as the shaman watched his facial features morph into a quizzical expression.  She had always found Azerothians rather easy to read, few had mastered the art of apathy and it was terribly entertaining.  Some tried so very hard to hide it but it was only the battered, the bruised and the shattered souls that mastered the art of indifference. Not that she desired all of Azeroth to become as ‘dead’ as some of her troops had become but a little bit of realism never hurt.

“No, I was just overwhelmed.”

“By heat…?” Oblivious to the significance of his gaze upon the other Draenei, she could only assume that the heat against his armour was causing him suitable discomfort.  Both did wear a ridiculous number of layers, they would therefore become much warmer much more quickly than others in the area.  It was with this thought in mind that she raised a brow of her own and only lowered it when he turned his bemused gaze upon her.

“By time,” he pointed out plainly and shook his head, “I haven’t seen some of these people in many months, I just didn’t realise it had been months since I HAD seen them.”

“Ah I see…”

Both paladin and shaman found themselves lulled into silence as they returned their gazes to their drinks and their own thoughts. In all honesty he had a point, even Chizuamaya had been unaware of the sheer amount of time she had spent on the battlefield.  It had only been upon her return and the lack of recollection she had for faces that she realised just how long it had been.  Time almost seemed to flow differently in battle, slower…or maybe it just melted together in one huge pile of goo as each day was lived in an identical manner to the next.  Sleep was irregular; conflict guaranteed and routine was often disrupted by some ridiculous disturbance.  Really, when one lacked the opportunity to have a proper sleeping schedule they lost track.

“Have you heard any news of your husband?” the individuals who had entered previously had found a place of comfort near by and now seated, found time to discuss their own matters.  Positioned round the circular table, all but one had some form of alcohol to drink.

“As of yet, no news…” the Draenei woman side softly, her tone somewhat strained as she placed her hand on her swollen abdomen and pursed her lips.  “The Stormwind Militia have remained vague, they say that Raniero is simply missing in action,” she confessed.  She shook her head and lifted her glass to bring it to her lips, scarcely taking note of the shaman near by whose shoulders had tensed considerably. Nor had she taken note of the paladin whose gaze had shot up to inspect the reaction of the shaman that sat opposite him – to her it would have merely been coincidence.

Raniero?

“But he is dead,” Chizuamaya murmured uncertainly, focusing hard on her drink as she eyed her own reflection.  Her brow had creased and her expression already appeared pained as she fought hard to regain her composure. There was only one Raniero she knew, one Night Elf with that name and he had pledged his heart to her. It had only been in recent months that he had disappeared again and she had thought that fate and his otherwise reckless behaviour in the Alterac Valley had taken it’s toll.  She had hoped for the best but this time…the spirits hadn’t encouraged her to find him.

So she had merely assumed that he was dead, they would have sent her otherwise would they not?

“It could be another of the same name,” Tsnumi pointed out calmly, his tone measured and wary as he watched a variety of emotions fly across the strained features of the shaman.  He could see the confusion and the uncertainty, the occasional question.

“How many do you know with that name?”

She had a point.

“Chizu I haven’t seen him in months either, if he were to do such a thing surely he would have written to you.” On second thought, while the paladin wasn’t prepared to voice the revelation perhaps the warrior wouldn’t have.  Perhaps that particular Night Elf would be too cowardly to tell the truth to one who was in the battlefield…just in case it ruined their morale. Ah but how terribly cruel it would be for that individual to return home to a very brutal truth.  He could have sworn he had a better measure of people than that!

“It can’t be him,” he added at last and shook his head dismissively. “To have a child and to marry another while you risked your life seems completely -”

“Logical.”

He physically winced as the shaman set her glass down on the table and lifted her mask to inspect it.  All those ‘pleasant’ memories were slowly drifting out of her reach, as she gasped at the inscriptions on the side of the mail.  Slowly but surely she was drowning in a sea of despair, every little thing she seemed to have was wandering away from her. Yes she had her friends but in the time she had permitted herself to be vulnerable and to love – she had given him everything. Well, she had given him everything she could at the time except everything he really wanted.

“I guess I wasn’t enough for him,” she murmured quietly and lowered her mask to the table once more. “He wanted a family.”

“You were at war.”

“But I didn’t have to be, did I?” Her words were slow and she rested her weight against the back of her chair with more force.  Her hooves clicked against the wooden floor in an almost disconcerting manner.  It was an abrupt transformation but as the realisation that the shaman had been cast aside became apparent, a little more of her spark died.

“You did what was right, not what was easy.” Tsnumi argued, his voice sharpening considerably as he set his glass down and leant forward.  “If this is true then -”

“Who is she?” At last the Draenei lifted her ethereal gaze and fixed them firmly on the paladin.