Commander Pinter Ch 05

"Whazzup!" Sallee Silverclamp exclaimed as she handed Pinter a mug of iced tea. The little Goblin overseer of Nagrand's Steamwheedle Preservation Society smiled with her wild hospitality that had always made Pinter laugh when she established connections here over a month ago. Pinter couldn't resist a little appreciative chuckle as she took the tea mug and sipped.

"Thank you for seeing us on such short notice," Pinter said.

"We're always here to help," Sallee said. "Whatever Khadgar needs."

"And it doesn't make me happy to hear that one of our own is acting like a real elekk turd," Gatzmolf Futzwangler said at the controls of a strange, ball-shaped machine that bounced with a gassy pocketa-pocketa behind Sallee. Pinter had no idea what the machine could be for. Best not to ask when it came to Goblins.

Mandala stood behind Pinter with the Saberon, who crouched quietly on his haunches. "You said Jeezelrod never returned from the Broken Precipice?" Mandala asked.

"He led a team of excavators and vanished," Sallee said. "We assumed the Ogres ate him, so we declared him dead."

"I'll eat his face if I ever see him again," Gatzmolf said. The machine popped loudly and vibrated like a seizure victim. Gatzmolf held onto his handle for dear life, fighting to keep the machine on the ground, lifting a few inches from the floor as the ball vibrated in a small circle. Finally smoke burst from the iron seams. A few bolts shot like bullets, and everyone ducked as they ricocheted around the room. The iron sides fell away like four perfect sides of a box, and Gatzmolf landed on his butt with the handle still tight in his hands.

"Would you cut it out already?" Sallee yelled at him. "Nobody asked for a lousy bread maker."

"That was a...never mind," Pinter said as she dusted herself off. "We need to talk to Khadgar fast."

"Indeed," Gatzmolf said, standing up like nothing happened. "He came through here shortly before Thrall finally finished off Garrosh. Thankfully he left us with the means to contact him if anything hairy ever came up."

Gatzmolf opened a tall cupboard and disappeared as he rummaged inside. A few odds and ends flew out as he scoured - a fly swatter, a turkey baster, a soccer ball. "Aha!" Gatzmolf exclaimed, emerging triumphant with a wide, metal ring in his hands. "The portal."

Gatzmolf set the ring on the floor. He fiddled with a few controls on the side, and suddenly a flash of light erupted. Gatzmolf jumped back, and everyone stared through the portal that had opened on Zangara.

It was a clean passageway with Khadgar's study clearly visible through the nether. As they watched, the white-haired mage dashed up, peered through, and sighed in relief. "Thank goodness," Khadgar said. "Pinter and Mandala. It's so good to see you."

"You have some explaining to do," Mandala said, stepping in front of Pinter.

Pinter gently put her arm across her Draenei friend and held her back. "We were betrayed, Khadgar," Pinter said. "The whole thing was a trap."

Khadgar held up his hands in apology. "I know," he said. "I was in complete contact with you until you reached Nagrand. Then I went blind as if someone commandeered the signal."

"So it wasn't you who told me to go to the Throne of the Elements?" Mandala asked.

"Absolutely not," Khadgar said. "You had your mission, which I am sure you would have executed brilliantly. There was nothing else to give you."

"This is fishy," Sallee said. "Really fishy."

"It must have been the Sorcerer King," Mandala said. "He is more powerful than we thought."

"I should have known about Corneas," Khadgar said. "Somehow I couldn't see through him. I trusted him, just as you did. I hope no harm came to you."

"We made it out in one piece," Pinter said. "But what about the other raiders?"

"I have them," Khadgar said. "The moment I lost sight of you two I found them all. They are safe inside a shield at the entrance of the Walled City. I will send you when you are ready."

"You're still going through with this?" Gatzmolf asked. "Pardon me for saying, but that makes about as much sense as Orcish arithmetic."

"Why not?" Mandala asked. "They think we're dead. Catch them with their guard down."

"And we'll never have a better chance," Pinter said. "If the Sorcerer King is this powerful he'll see anyone else coming from as far as Azeroth. We need to strike now."

"I will make the portal," Khadgar said with a crack of his knuckles. "It will land you two smack in the middle of the other raiders."

"The three of us," Pinter said as she scratched the top of her Saberon's head. He tilted his neck back to expose his chin, and Pinter gave his jowls a good rub. "This fellow has saved me more than once, and we're down a man after Corneas."

"Good thinking," Khadgar said. "I'll increase my spell. You will remain invisible as long as none of you attack. Once you begin your assault, the shield will break, and you will be seen."

Green light shined in a strand between Khadgar's hands. He worked from his study, from all the way in Zangara as he created the new portal that opened behind Mandala in a blue ring. He grunted in effort, and lines appeared around the mage's eyes as he kept the new doorway open. "Go now, Pinter," Khadgar said. "I don't know how long I can hold this."

Pinter and Mandala waved goodbye to Khadgar and walked to the portal. "Time is money, friend!" Sallee said with a jovial wave of her hand and her typical send-off.

Mandala stepped through the portal. Pinter stopped just short. The Saberon paused reluctantly behind her. "It's okay, fella," Pinter said with a smile. "We'll conquer this together."

The Saberon licked his nose and flicked his head back and forth. Then he bounded through the portal and vanished. Pinter stepped through, and the world blinked white all around as she transported out of the Steamwheedle headquarters.

* * *

Pinter landed lightly on grass. The white light that overtook her vision slowly faded, and she found herself in the middle of four tall Ogre structures. A shining dome rose high overhead, a translucent window on the outside world. Mandala was next to her, and the Saberon. Seven other forms took shape in a cloud of sparkles as she fully arrived outside the gates of the Walled City.

"Welcome to Highmaul, Commander Pinter," a male Draenei voice said.

Pinter finally took stock of her surroundings. Seven Alliance adventurers were ready and waiting. The male voice belonged to a Draenei priest who wore yellow robes and a long staff on his back made of warped wood. It was such an eclectic bunch. A Dwarf hunter going lone wolf just like Pinter. A Human warrior with a long polearm that looked like it came from the heart of Pandaria. A Gnome warlock with a towering, six-armed female demon at his side. A Night Elf mage with a staff that burned white hot. And two Worgen druids, male and female respectively from Pinter's eye. The Worgen stood together in their wolf form, the male with bright red fur, the female a beautiful silver. They held hands, the two druids, and Pinter guessed they were a little more than friends. Pinter nodded at each of her companions as they greeted her.

"We feared the worst when Khadgar lost contact," the Dwarf hunter said.

"I'm a bit harder to kill than that," Pinter said.

Her companions laughed. The Draenei priest eyed the Saberon who crouched between Pinter and Mandala. "Who is this?" he asked. "Your pet?"

"This is a friend," Pinter said. "He's here to help, since we're down a man."

"Does he attack on your command?" the priest asked, eliciting a few chuckles from the others.

"He will pull his weight," Mandala said. "He is half the reason Pinter and I are still alive."

The Draenei priest shrugged. "If he can pull his weight I have no problem," he said. "I just wonder if this is the best our Commander could do."

"We are strong enough," Pinter said. "I suggest we get into the city before Khadgar's spell wears off. I'd rather not die on the doorstep of our objective."

The group made their way to the open stone gate where two fat Ogres stood guard with heavy hammers. The group walked silently between them, and Pinter even jumped a little as one of the guards coughed loudly, cleared his throat, and hocked up a generous piece of snot. But they passed through after a moment, and Pinter looked back just to be sure. Three other Ogres walked through the gate going the opposite direction. The guards never turned around. They were inside.

"Now!" Pinter shouted.

Mandala roared, threw her shield, and ran straight into four Ogres who mingled in the stone street. The Human warrior raced alongside her leaving a trail of fire, and two of the Ogres had already been cut down before Pinter and the others had time to attack. Khadgar's bubble vanished, and they were there.

Soon all four Ogres were dead. Three more came out of a stone hut, one of them a mage, but the Night Elf spotted him and froze the Ogre's jaw before he could cast his first spell. Pinter and the Dwarf hunter fired two incendiary traps that exploded, knocking down the other two Ogres. From there it was just a matter of Mandala and the warrior ending them.

Pinter never understood why a Worgen would ever want to change form. Shouldn't a werewolf be vicious enough? Still, the red-haired Worgen took the form of a red panther and surged forward with Mandala and the warrior whenever they engaged a new foe. Pinter called out once to make sure he didn't draw too much attention, but she cut the Worgen some slack. He seemed young, maybe about her own age. She was just like him not too long ago, and she smiled with pride as the young Worgen joined the Saberon in tearing apart a giant cyclopean Ogre.

The silver Worgen had taken on the form of vines, her voluptuous humanoid figure still visible in the animated flora. She cast a few waves of green spores over the raiders, but she and the Draenei priest barely lifted a finger as the party fought their way to an amphitheater on the north side of the city. They were patient. They were deadly, but they were patient. That was the important part. Everyone understood their roles. Soon the streets were littered with dead Ogres, and distant alarm horns signaled that their early welcome would soon take a deadlier turn.

"Form up here!" Pinter shouted atop a stone wall that dropped into a drainage ditch. The amphitheater was just ahead. A single Ogre holding a long stone axe stood in the open, scanning the entrances, waiting for them.

The adventurers gathered around Pinter. Mandala stood on her right. The Draenei priest on her left.

"No more surprise," Mandala said. "He'll see us coming."

"There's no way to sneak up," Pinter said. She turned to the priest. "You'll have to bless us."

"Can't you just bubble yourself?" the priest asked Mandala.

"Are you kidding?" Mandala said. "He'll smash it in a heartbeat."

"Bless us," Pinter said. "And stand back with the Worgen. We'll attack him on both sides. That should occupy him enough. He's big and slow. We'll cut him down eventually."

"Cast your time warp on my command," the priest said, looking back to the Night Elf mage.

"Sure, or I'll do it when Pinter tells me to," the mage said.

The priest grumbled something to himself in Draenei that Pinter didn't understand, but Mandala obviously did. Anger flared inside the paladin, but Pinter put her hand on Mandala's arm. "Cast it early," Pinter said to the mage. "If we can't kill this guy in a few minutes we're dead anyway."

Pinter let her hand linger on Mandala's purple skin, a reassuring touch but she gave her friend a gentle caress. The priest glanced down and saw, harrumphing quietly. Pinter didn't care. "Are we ready?" Pinter asked.

Everyone called out affirmative. "Go!"

Mandala's bladed shield flew forward as she and the warrior raced out of the ditch. The huge Ogre caught it just in time, flicking it away with the hilt of his axe. "Come for the Butcher?" he bellowed, charging to meet Mandala and the warrior. "Come, so I can grind you into clefthoof feed!"

Pinter and the Dwarf fired ice balls that landed at the Butcher's feet, encasing them in ice blocks, freezing him in place. Mandala and the warrior began their assault, and the rest of them split into two groups, one behind Pinter, one behind the Dwarf. The Gnome warlock stood behind Pinter. His demoness charged to fight the huge Ogre, and the mage split off to join the Dwarf, standing behind them, launching fireball after fireball into the behemoth's fleshy side. Pinter watched to be sure the priest was where she wanted him, and he was, next to the Worgen druid who stood in vine form laying down mushrooms that emitted rejuvenating green spores.

Pinter loosed a barrage of arrows from the crossbow she had taken from the Mok'Gul camp, not her prime choice of bow but effective enough. Hopefully someone in this place would have a better choice of weaponry for her. The fight was going smooth and coordinated. The Butcher's legs were pockmarked with cuts and slashes, and Pinter watched the red Worgen druid slash a nice gash down the Butcher's thigh.

The Butcher growled enraged and rammed his axe butt square into the Worgen's flank. The panther bent at an odd angle and cried in pain. Pinter nearly called out, but then a wave of spores washed over the stricken druid. He straightened out, regained his footing, and rejoined the assault.

Beautiful

, Pinter thought.

Beautiful

.

Mandala threw down her hammer of light, which sent electric shocks into herself and everyone near her. Pinter felt it course up from the ground, through her legs, into her core. She had the strength to throw this oaf into the fires of Bloodmaul, and whatever weariness was on her companions vanished before her eyes, their attacks sped up and doubled. They nearly had this guy. He was already slowing. Just a few more hits and he'd be on his knees, then Mandala would take his head.

Mandala closed her eyes, renewing the light shield that surrounded her. The Butcher raised his axe and swung downward, striking the shield dead on, bursting it in a cloud of sparks. Mandala fell to one knee under the force of the blow, which stunned her for a moment. "Shit!" the warrior shouted as the Butcher raised his axe over the prone Draenei.

Pinter was too far away to do anything. Her heart leapt into her throat at the sight of her friend about to be crushed. "Help her!" Pinter screamed at the priest.

"Why don't you just bubble?" the priest asked calmly.

Pinter could have shot him in the face, but she was too focused on the axe that descended now in slow motion, the world gone bloated and surreal in this instant that hanged in the balance. They couldn't afford to lose a tank. Pinter couldn't afford to lose her friend. She barely heard herself screaming, "No!" She broke her attack and ran, hopelessly, desperately.

The warrior dropped his polearm and dove for Mandala, knocking her out of the way, crashing to a halt just short of where he intended. He looked up.

A cloud of dust erupted. Everyone went silent and still, and when the dust settled all they could see was the Butcher's enormous axed buried halfway in the earth. The Ogre giant pulled out his weapon. The blade was dark red with gore.

"Resurrect him, paladin," the priest said.

Mandala was just coming back to her senses. She had lost all of her aggression, and now the Butcher was charging for the priest and the Worgen druid. Mandala picked up her shield and flung it weakly, cursing in Draenei as it skidded harmlessly in the dirt just behind the Butcher's ankles. The mage tossed flame after flame onto the Ogre. Pinter and the Dwarf let loose a steady rain of arrows, and the Gnome's demoness leapt in the air with a whirl of her swords.

Nothing stopped the Butcher. He found his target. He swung his axe like a pendulum in the air behind him, and he swung it forward with the force of a battering ram.

The priest jumped aside. "What are you waiting for?" he shouted, maybe at the Worgen druid at his side, but Pinter knew he meant for Mandala to restart her attack. Either way, the Worgen druid froze the way you do when staring down a speeding horse after stepping into a Stormwind street without looking both ways. She froze like a fencepost, and she watched the axe all the way. Pinter aimed a shot at the Butcher's hand, trying to disarm him, but she was just a moment too late. The axe swung forward. The Worgen flashed into her human form, a pretty young woman with deep silver hair. And then she was gone.

The red Worgen panther howled in a fury and jumped on the Butcher's back, but he tossed the cat aside. Mandala raced up, finally back to her fighting self, and she threw her shield. The Butcher found her and attacked.

The Dwarf hit him in the head with a shot that struck hard and bounced away. The Butcher just flicked his axe out to the side, catching the Dwarf before he could disengage. He fell in two clean, vertical pieces.

Pinter couldn't believe what was happening. They had this guy! But in just a few seconds, thanks to one person's stupidity, they were dropping like flies now. They could still kill the Butcher with a little focus. Kill him and worry about picking up the pieces once the dust had settled. But none of this should have happened. She could have strangled the priest if he wasn't running to the opposite side of the amphitheater.

Mandala still fought like a dervish, doubling her efforts, not letting the Butcher's attention go too far away. He raised his axe to attack, and she hacked him square in the belly, doubling him over as much as an Ogre his size was able to. A gushing wound stood out on his gut, and he fumbled quickly at what fell out. "Snakey things go inside!" the Butcher yelled.

"Stay on him!" Pinter yelled. The mage and the warlock rained flames and shadows down on the Ogre's head. He was almost done now. Next to Pinter lay the Worgen panther, scrambling back to his paws, rushing to the body of his dead friend. "Get back here!" she shouted, but he wasn't listening.

Pinter looked back at the Butcher. The mage spread his hands. Red flame swirled at his feet, and then a massive flaming rock fell from the heavens, exploding around the Butcher and leaving him burning and scorched. He howled, and then Mandala was there. She rammed the butt of her axe shield straight through the Butcher's chest, tapping him like a keg of mead that flowed dark red as the contents of his heart poured free. The Butcher fell to his knees. Mandala clove his head in half with one clean strike of her large blade.

Quiet fell over the amphitheater. Quiet, except for the cries of the Worgen druid who crouched in his human form over the broken body of his friend. "Anna," he cried as he lifted her in his arms, cradling her head. "Anna!"

Pinter's heart ripped in half at the sight. She walked to him, keeping her distance, venturing out her hand to touch his shoulder as he sobbed. "I'm sorry," Pinter said.

"Where the hell did Khadgar find your worthless ass?"

Pinter looked back as Mandala stomped steadily to the priest who stood along the opposite wall. The other living raiders swarmed to join her, the Saberon close to Mandala's side, snarling viciously.

"It's not my fault," the priest said. "This paladin didn't bubble fast enough."

"Ril melamagas ashjraka!" Mandala howled, lunging for the priest's throat. The mage and the Gnome warlock both grabbed her, holding her back, the Gnome having a bit more trouble with his grip on Mandala's thigh.

Pinter stood quick and turned. "Break it up!" she yelled. "We can save at least one of them." She took two steps. And then she was airborne.

The earth split asunder beneath her feet, rushing in a fluid ripple that sent her back into the Worgen druid. The poor devil lost his grip on Anna, his dead friend, and rolled with Pinter as the ground seemed to angle them away from the others.