Yada yada yada, you know what I'll say if you've read the other Windrunner posts. Sylvassar WIndrunner, Felarius's mom. She does secret spying, assassination, and theft missions against the horde. Pretty much the sneaky person for the alliance.
Sylvassar Windrunner
Chapter 1: Mission Accomplished!
"Right! We strip the Exodar from underneath! Those Draenei will never know what hit them! We'll be rich as kings!" Zalgar said triumphantly.
"But what if it don't work, mon? What if the Draenei kill us all? Did you think about that, dumb orc? What if someone is spying on us right now?"
"Don't be stupid, Lorgron. Troll brain!" he sneered.
As a matter of fact, peering through the crack in a barrel at the corner of the room, was an elf, smiling to herself.
"This meeting is over!" The orc shouted to all in the room.
"I don't think it would be bad to check for spies." Lorgron said as he left the room.
"You thought right, friend, but Zalgar's word is law. I'm sorry."
She laughed for three minutes straight after they were out of earshot.
After she had recovered from her side-aches - a result from laughing too much – she climbed out of the wine barrel.
She took a grappling hook from her belt, and through it up to a barred window. It hooked around one of the three steel pillars, and she started to scale the wall, getting closer to the window.
When she got all the way up, she wriggled through the bars, unhooked her grappling hook from the other side and hooked it back to her belt, and tied a rope to the bar.
She climbed back down gracefully, landing on the ground with a great ease that only comes from being an elf.
She tossed her dagger high as possible.
Clank! It rang against the steel bar with the rope on it. The dagger fell back to her hands, as did the rope that had been cut.
Through the forest she went, eventually coming to a patch of brush that she knew very well. For it was a magical disguise. She stepped through a particular bush, and set her foot on a wooden floor.
"Ah, Sylvassar. You're back. I hope you have something interesting for me?" Said a familiar tough-sounding voice.
"Yes. Zalgar and his band are planning to strip the Exodar from underneath. I presume there's hidden tunnels under the crashed ship."
"Well, in that case you shall lead a search party to find these tunnels. Then we can give a message to the draenei to prepare warriors inside the passages." The man had shaggy blonde hair; he was dressed in full arms besides the helm, which lied on the desk he was sitting at. There was a scar across his eye, and also one on both cheeks, a result of someone sticking a sword through his teeth when his mouth was open, giving orders in a hard battle. In fact, it was Zalgar himself who had given him the wound.
"Right. When do we leave, Athlian?"
"As soon as possible." She started to head upstairs to prepare some troops.
"Oh, and Sylvassar?"
"Yes?"
"This is a present. It will help you in battle. It is already fully trained, and here is a list of the commands to memorize." Athlian pulled out a cage from under his desk and gave it to her. It was covered in a white sheet. She pulled the sheet away, and inside the cage she saw a strigid owl.
"Thank you so much. I will treasure it as long as it still has life in its body. Then I will even more." She said as the bird stared at its new owner with big, round eyes.
"A small gift for my best soldier."
"What's her name?"
"Well, the owner that I bought it from said it was Moonclaw. He was a night elf, of course. But you can give her a different name if you want to."
"I think Moonclaw is a good name for this bird."
"Oh, and the list of commands… here!" He handed her a small piece of paper.
"Thank you!" She opened the door to the cage, and Moonclaw flapped up onto her shoulder, cooing softly.
"She likes you."
"Guess so. Now, with no more distractions, I'm going to get some people together for the mission."
"Right. Good luck, Sylvassar."
Soon she had gathered a night elf bowman named Alriath with a bow of course, and a slim rapier- a human by the name of Cathlon – She carried a lot of spell books, mostly- A dwarf, Flint Stoneforge with a mighty battle-axe, and a little gnome named Sqwert with a couple of daggers and a hand-held crossbow. Her own weapons were her bow, a dagger, and claws of war (gloves with long blades on the knuckles).
"First things first. Get to Menethil Harbor."
"We have to walk all that way?" Sqwert sounded horrified.
"We could fly there by gryphon, but that would cost so much money… no."
"You mean… you mean… we have to walk to Menethil Harbor?"
"Tell you what. If you're a good trouper, and don't annoy the others, you get some delicious ice cream at the end. From the greatest ice cream maker in Baradin Bay!" It seemed to cheer the gnome up.
"This journey will take about a month, so make sure you all have provisions, or we'll be eating off of the few scraps we find in Dun Morogh –I can't see how you dwarves survive there- And crocodiles from the Loch and the Wetlands."
"Blech! I hate crocodile meat!" Sqwert squirmed. "And will it really take that long?"
"Yes."
"I like the meat." Flint said, shrugging.
"Well, you- you- you're a dwarf!" Sqwert screamed.
"So what?"
"Uh… I don't exactly know yet." Sqwert placed his chin on his hand, his elbow on his knee in a thoughtful pose.
"Well Flint doesn't need provisions except through Dun Morogh-"
"Not even that. Dwarves are built to survive in Dun Morogh."
"Well Flint doesn't need provisions at all, so he'll carry a bit of everyone else's to even it out. It'll lighten the load for everyone. Thanks, Flint."
"For what?"
"Never mind."
After they had all finished packing, they stepped out onto the forest floor. It was dawn, and there was a large amount of dew on the ground. She could almost feel it through her leather boots.
As she walked, she thought about her family.
They probably think I'm dead by now. She thought. There was her husband, Eldroral, her two sons, El'qor and Felarius. Felarius was… ninety-nine? Already? And that meant El'qor was… forty-two. A toddler. Her nephew, Elindor, was seventy-seven years old. Sadly her sister had died, and her brother in-law, burned alive almost thirty years ago. And even more sadly, Elindor, their son, had to watch it. Right before they died, they had Eltorae, who was… fifty-four. Her father? He was dead. Died saving a large amount of people, so did her mother. She was three hundred and forty-nine. (Or thirty-four, almost thirty-five).
Again, a cliff-hanger. Sorry! That's why you leave comments to give me ideas.