Commander Pinter Ch 06

"Give me some room," Mandala said as she crouched over the broken corpse of Anna, the dead Worgen druid. The Saberon stood at her side obediently, watching her, comforting her as she examined.

"Can't cast a simple resurrection spell?" Balthus asked with a cloth pressed to his bloody nose. Balthus was the Draenei priest who didn't quite see eye to eye with Mandala. Mandala's red plate glove still had the bloody stain where she punched him a minute ago.

"I can cast just fine," Mandala said. "I just can't stand hearing you breathe through your broken nose."

"Now look," Balthus said, but Voren, the Night Elf mage, grabbed his arm.

"Easy," Voren said with just the right amount of scorn to pass as diplomatic. "Let's save this one and be done with it."

Mandala rolled Anna onto her back, wincing at the feel of shattered and crushed bones inside her Human form. Anna had taken a direct hit from the flat side of the Butcher's stone axe. She probably died instantly. Thankfully her body wasn't too terribly destroyed, meaning Mandala could resurrect her. Still, the Draenei paladin swallowed a few tears that welled inside her. Anna was a pretty girl, her silver hair turning her into a majestic Worgen when transformed, and she had proven herself a spectacular healer in the thick of battle. If Mandala could have chosen a casualty it would have been Balthus, but life wasn't always so generous. She held Anna's jaw and leaned close.

"Can you save her?" Fitzzlenoob asked. The Gnome warlock had dismissed his demoness for the time being, focused only on the emergency at hand.

Mandala opened Anna's lips, gingerly so as not to destroy her fractured jawline any further. She breathed onto Anna's teeth.

"Is that it?" Fitzzlenoob asked.

"Let her work," Voren said.

"Should be done by now," Balthus grumbled.

Mandala held her hand up to the sky. Her open palm glowed as she plucked a beam of light from the air, and she returned her hand to Anna's cheek. The light spread through Anna's face, down her neck, throughout her body. An organic noise crunched inside the girl.

"What's that?" Fitzzlenoob asked.

"Her bones are repairing," Voren said.

"You've seen this before?" Fitzzlenoob asked.

"I have," Voren said. He cast a sideways glance at Balthus. "It's not so easy as you think. I don't envy a paladin who has to cast this spell."

"Wasting it on dead weight," Balthus said. "We should rez the warrior or the hunter."

"Our hunter friend is in two pieces," Voren said, "and if you can find enough bits of the warrior in the dirt over there be my guest. Anna is intact and we'll need a healer if we ever want to get out of this damned city alive."

The light encased Anna, spreading up Mandala's arm, around her body, as well. The Saberon stepped back in wonder as Mandala became a golden goddess for a moment, holding her hands up to the sky. "By the Naruu," Mandala said, "we will see you again."

The light blinked away. Mandala sat over Anna. It was quiet for a moment, and the others thought that maybe it hadn't worked.

Anna coughed.

Voren and Fitzzlenoob laughed.

"Careful," Mandala said, cradling Anna as she coughed for breath. "You're back, but not yet entirely. Go easy."

Anna looked around wide-eyed. "I was gone," she said with another cough.

"You are back," Mandala said. "You live."

Anna looked up at Mandala, and she calmed. She smiled. "Thank you."

"We should have left her," Balthus said. "We could be miles away by now if we contacted Khadgar."

"We can't just leave her when there's a chance," Voren said.

"And there isn't even a chance that she'll slow us down," Balthus said. "That's definite. She will slow us down and these Ogres will catch us."

"If you had been doing your job we would be halfway to the Sorcerer King's throne room by now," Mandala said.

"I was healing," Balthus said. "You were slow."

"No," Voren said. "It was you."

"I thought paladins were supposed to be able to heal themselves," Balthus said.

"I can, but just enough to make your job easier," Mandala said. "I need help."

"What did you see?" Balthus asked Fitzzlenoob.

The Gnome held up his hands in innocence. "I didn't see anything," Fitzzlenoob said. "I was in the fight and then we started dying. That's all I saw."

"I felt a lot of mana coming from Anna," Mandala said. "I felt hardly anything from you."

"Arguing over this will get us nowhere," Voren said.

"Thank you," Balthus said.

"But I saw the whole thing and it was all your fault," Voren said.

"You don't understand what healing like!" Balthus yelled and then grimaced in pain through the cloth in his hand.

"Where is Jarvus?" Anna asked.

Everyone went silent and looked at her.

"My brother," Anna said. "Where is he? And Commander Pinter?"

Mandala pointed at the white wall that split the amphitheater in two. "On the other side," she said. "We can't get through."

"There has to be a way," Anna said.

"There is no way," Voren said. "We've looked."

"Some other way," Anna said. "You can't portal us..."

Balthus huffed.

"But there's always a way," Anna finished. "We're just not seeing it."

Mandala looked around their side of the amphitheater. She was at a loss, but she had to humor the girl. "Maybe," she said, "if we..."

The Saberon sat bolt upright and sniffed. His ears perked straight. And he stared at the far wall of the amphitheater where they had entered.

"What's with him?" Balthus asked.

"He smells something," Mandala said. She inched closer to the Saberon. "What is it? What do you smell?"

"He's not like us," Balthus said. "He doesn't even understand..."

"Pinter," the Saberon growled. He bounded away and leapt acrobatically to the top of the wall. He looked back and motioned for the others to join him.

"I guess there's another way," Mandala said. They stood to follow the Saberon. Mandala helped Anna to her feet. She held the injured girl with an arm around her shoulders. "Can you make it?"

Anna nodded.

"Then let's go find your brother," Mandala said.

* * *

Pinter rolled, caking her face in a layer of dust. She wheeled to a crouch just as Kargath landed in the space she had just vacated with a heavy impact cloud of dirt. She wheeled to a crouch, raised her crossbow, and fired a fast shot at Kargath's head. The Shattered Hand Chieftan was just that much faster, raising his bladed arm, deflecting away Pinter's arrow like a spit wad.

It wasn't meant to be a kill shot. Pinter used the time she bought to disengage away with a backwards leap. The crowd of Orcs and Ogres roared with approval as their champion, Kargath, bellowed at her with his arms spread open, his eyes demonic with fury and spittle flying from his fangs.

Jarvus was still in bear form behind him. Pinter had a glimpse of the red-haired druid rise twelve feet tall on his hind legs, roaring in challenge at the Bladefist champion.

Kargath spun and swung his blade. Jarvus juked away just enough, and he slashed. Kargath juked in return, and he rammed his hook into Jarvus's thick pelt.

Pinter raised her crossbow as her heart jumped with worry, lining up a distracting shot, but then Kargath hurled Jarvus all the way across the arena floor to Pinter's feet.

The crowd roared again.

"Are you okay?" Pinter asked, forcing her way in to examine Jarvus.

It was nothing. The hook had caught little more than fur, but a tiny bit of blood stood out darker on Jarvus's red coat. He shook his head back and forth and snarled at Kargath.

The Orc sneered maniacally. "We will finish what we started in Tanaan, Commander," Kargath said with insulting emphasis on "Commander." "Apparently the Mok'Gul are too incompetent to handle someone as frail as you."

"You will find me more than a match, Bladefist," Pinter said.

"And I already find you more than meets the eye, dear Pinter," Kargath said. "I can smell it on you two. We gladiators have a saying, you know. No sex before a fight. It drains the will."

"This won't be much of a fight," Pinter said. "This crowd will be disappointed."

"I'll give the crowd something to chew on," Kargath said, and he charged.

Pinter howled and pointed, and Jarvus charged in return.

Just as the two met, Kargath lowered his blade like a shovel and scooped up Jarvus. Pinter watched stunned as the Orc wheeled around twice, winding up, and threw the bear into the nearby stands. The Orcs went into a frenzy, setting upon him with a cloud of claws and gnashing teeth. "Jarvus!" Pinter yelled.

"Worry more for yourself," Kargath said, and he was there.

Pinter leapt away just in time. As she landed on her feet, a line of pillars rose from the ground. They stood four feet tall, and with a brief puff of smoke they all spouted flames in a wide circle.

Kargath ran with a roar. Pinter fired a shot, loaded, fired again, gauged how much she had slowed the charging Orc, and she slid deftly between two of the fiery rings, taking shelter between the arena wall and the flames.

Kargath skidded on his feet, but he was too big to stop in time and too wide to fit in between the flames the way Pinter did. He ran straight into the flame and roared, mostly in anger. "Ah, you coward!" Kargath yelled as Pinter ran the length of the wall behind the flame. "You can't hide behind fire forever!"

Pinter sprinted. The pillars emitted a low hiss as they spewed their flame, but the hiss was wavering. She figured they would descend soon, and she didn't have long. She looked quickly to the opposite side of the arena. A line of pillars was just starting to rise from the ground. She could make it if she was fast enough. If she was fast enough.

Just as the pillars lowered back into the ground, Pinter fired a shot at Kargath's face, and she bolted for the flames on the other side. She was halfway there when optimism erupted in her belly. She could make it! She found her mark and lowered her shoulders to dive.

Kargath's chain wrapped around Piner's ankle. Her right leg wrenched backwards, and she plopped hard on her stomach, losing her wind. Pinter clutched her stomach in pain, and then rough hands grabbed her shoulder and rolled her over.

Pinter kicked once, but Kargath pinned her leg with his. Pinter tried to wriggle free, but he pinned her other leg. The Shattered Hand Orc loomed over Pinter. "You should have fought me," Kargath said. "Rather than running. It would have been over faster. Now, I will have some fun."

Pinter spat at him, landing a nice gob right on Kargath's nose. The Orc didn't even flinch. He wiped it clean with his finger, and he wiped his finger on Pinter's crotch. "Easy, now," Kargath said.

He opened his pants with his good hand. Out fell the largest cock Pinter had ever seen. Orc cocks were larger than Human, but this was a monstrosity, easily eighteen inches flaccid. Kargath grinned wickedly as he started rubbing it, bringing it to life. The huge cock quickly went erect, nearly blocking out Kargath's from Pinter's perspective. His testicles were like oranges, and for some reason Pinter wanted to grip them, not to cripple Kargath but to make him pop. She wanted that cock to burst all over her, a glorious shower of Orc cum to glaze her hot and sticky.

Any thought of pleasure Pinter might have had was erased then as Kargath forced her legs apart with his knees. Her crotch screamed in pain as her muscles stretched as far as they could without ripping. Pinter cried. She was doomed. She wondered if her parents were thinking of her.

"Yes," Kargath said. "And that's not the half of it. I'll get it all the way in, Commander. Don't worry. I'll make enough room. There won't be much left of you when I finish. If you're still alive, well, let me apologize now."

Kargath found his hook. He put it in Pinter's crotch, ready to open her leggings, to uncover her pussy and enter her.

A horrible roar pierced the stadium, which Pinter realized had gone strangely quiet. Kargath looked, and then a red shape plowed him over, knocking him away. Pinter curled up, free at last to move.

Jarvus held down Kargath. It was all Pinter could make out. The druid's forward paws were a hailstorm of slashes. Kargath's hands fought vainly, and over Jarvus's angered roars Pinter could hear pained cries and terrified screams. Finally Jarvus stood, and he roared over Kargath's mangled body with a maw soaked dark red with Orc blood.

Kargath was hardly himself, literally opened up on the ground. His organs were spread, his entrails a snaky web in the dirt around his body. That enormous cock of his was gone, Gods knew where, but Pinter caught a glimpse of what looked like one of his testicles a few feet behind him. One half of Kargath's face was a network of claw marks. The other half was pulpy red flesh. He stared at the heavens with one wide open eye that slowly lost all light of life. "And that...makes...one hundred."

Pinter walked to Jarvus, who turned to her. She didn't see. She was focused on Kargath, who still clung to some modicum of existence. Kargath's good eye turned to her. He saw her. Pinter stood over him. "I'll remember you as a stain on my boot," she said.

Splat

! She rammed her boot heal in Kargath's eye.

"Fucker."

Pinter looked to the stands where Kargath had thrown Jarvus. Bits of Orc bodies were scattered everywhere. Blood splattered the seats. A few stray Orcs ran for the exits, where they bunched up comically in the doorways. "Nicely done," Pinter said as she picked up her crossbow.

Jarvus growled quietly at Pinter's side. "My pleasure," he said.

They collected her spent arrows in silence, and they left the vacant arena.

Gathering dusk hanged like a shroud over Highmaul. Neither Pinter nor Jarvus were particularly interested in discussing what had happened back in the arena. Everything was quiet. The streets were empty.

"Where are the Ogres?" Jarvus asked. "They couldn't have fled."

"They're here," Pinter said. "But they know who wants to deal with us. They won't get in his way."

With that, a white portal spun itself into existence twenty yards ahead. Pinter and Jarvus froze in their tracks.

"Khadgar?" Jarvus asked.

"No," Pinter said. She walked slowly to the portal, holding out her hand in careful curiosity. She could almost feel the other side. She could almost smell him. "This is our way. Let's go meet the Sorcerer King."

* * *

Mandala and the others could barely keep up with the Saberon. He ran far ahead through the empty streets of the Walled City, sniffing as he ran, following some scent that lingered just out of reach and foiled him. The Saberon snarled as he ran, in between sniffs, and every second he seemed to run faster in his desperate hunt.

"Why is he so frenzied?" Anna asked in Mandala's arm.

"Because he can't find a way through," Mandala said. And it was true. Mandala could feel it, the Saberon's growing frustration as he searched in vain for some way through the structures that blocked their progress. The white wall had ended just past the amphitheater, but there was too much stuff in the way now to get through. Surely if the Saberon could find an opening even a third his size he could squeeze through. But there was nothing, just the hint of a familiar scent that drove him mad and sent him searching.

"We should all just go..."

"Shut up!" everyone yelled at Balthus.

They followed the Saberon until finally he reached the high wall of the city itself, end of the line. The Saberon roared in agitation. He darted back and forth, whining loudly, looking all over the stone structures for some way through. "There must be something," Mandala said.

The Saberon looked behind her. His ears perked, and he ran. Mandala looked.

He ran to a tower that rose just a little bit above the other buildings. It wasn't much, maybe a religious sanctum of some sort, some prayer caller's residence in more peaceful times. The Saberon dashed inside and disappeared as he climbed a spiral staircase.

"Let's go!" Mandala said, and they followed him to the top of the tower.

Highmaul stretched ahead of them, an ocean of Ogre buildings. The white wall of the amphitheater was off to their right. Just beyond it was an arena of some sort. As Mandala looked straight ahead, a hill rose above the rest of the city on the Nagrand shoreline. Atop the hill was a palace with domes and minarets. Inside the palace, if the Saberon's tense posture and determined gaze was any indication, they would find Pinter and Jarvus. They would also find the Sorcerer King.

Mandala scratched the Saberon's head. He shook free, but he looped back and rubbed his cheek against Mandala's shoulder. "Good job," she laughed. "Now how do we get there?"

"Make a portal," Balthus said, his bloody cloth still pressed to his nose.

Fitzzlenoob put his fists on his hips and glared up at Balthus. "How many times do you need to hear?" the Gnome asked. "Voren needs to know exactly what's out there."

"I can do it," Voren said.

All eyes turned to the mage.

"I can try," Voren said. "I know how far I need to go. I can at least get us on the doorstep."

"That's no good," Mandala said. "If Pinter and Jarvus are there we'll have Ogres all over us once we appear. We need to land inside."

"Then I'll need help," Voren said. "I need to talk to Khadgar."

A chorus of low roars and growls sounded up the street. The tower floor shook with a cacophony of approaching vibrations.

"If you're going to do it, do it now," Mandala said, setting down Anna against the wall and drawing her sword. She took her shield from her back. "We'll hold them as long as we can."

Balthus sighed in resignation and dropped his cloth. Fitzzlenoob waved his hands in the air and opened them above his head. A huge demon in black and gold armor carrying two elaborate swords joined the party in the tower. Fitzzlenoob pointed at the staircase. The demon bowed his head and descended. The Gnome and Balthus followed him down. The Saberon turned on Mandala with an eager snarl, a mighty boast that filled her with courage. He bounded down the stairs.

Anna tried to find her feet, but Mandala gingerly held her on the floor. "Stay here," Mandala said. "You are in no condition."

"I want to help," Anna said.

"You will," Mandala said with a smile. "Let's get to your brother first. Okay?"

Anna nodded. "Okay."

The roars were just below the tower now. Fitzzlenoob's demon howled something not of this world that sent a shiver up Mandala's spine, and there was a loud sound of crashing steel.

"Mandala?" Balthus called out from downstairs.

She pet Anna's head, and she looked at Voren. The mage strained both of his hands in the air. Green light sparked and fizzled out between his open palms. "How long do you need?" Mandala asked.

An Ogre's roar shook the entire tower.

"Mandala!" Balthus yelled.

"Go," Voren said. "I'll call for you."

Mandala went to the stairs, descended fast, and threw her shield into a wall of Ogres.

* * *

Pinter and Jarvus fell from the other end of the portal and landed in a wide, circular room. She figured they were in the Sorcerer King's palace now, and this had to be the atrium. Surrounding them in a semi-circle along the wall were thirteen hulking Ogres in battle armor. They stood silently, waiting, watching Pinter and Jarvus from unseen eyes inside their helmets. The portal behind the two adventurers disappeared with an audible pop, startling Pinter and eliciting a growl from Jarvus. There was another sound, too, like a deep steam engine from Gnomerragan churning up a desolate road, and Pinter realized it was the breath of their new adversaries amplified by their faceplates. Pinter stepped closer to Jarvus and put her hand on his head.