Cold, dark, dry..Tanaris..Night.
The sand blew softly and coolly as footsteps appeared, and quickly disappeared, their imprints filled with the sand around them, and wind covering them up. No sound to be heard, only trails to be seen if you were quick enough. No one was ever quick enough though, he was relentless and skilled in what he was born to do. Trolls at a near post were not what he was here for, though they stirred in their sleep, feeling a presence near, their Sentry Totems doing their duties.
" 'Ey mon..Chu' hear abou' dah rumahs goin' round?" A dark-skinned headhunter spoke to another. "Whatchu' talkin' 'bout?" The other replied, "I her' from deh goblins in Gadge' dat de'ah was ah new face, pokin' round." Dark-skin explained. Dark-skin's partner moved over into the moonlight as the assassin moved closer to listen in. His partner had strange tribal markings on his face, "Sandfury..." The assassin though to himself.
"Whassa' nu' face matta' around de'se parts 'mon? Chu' know dey' ain't nuttin' dat be comin' out he'ah, and messin' wit' dah bosses plans.."
Dark-Skin's partner was right, the assassin wasn't here for their "Boss", he was here for something worth far more power, and wealth. The assassin moved on further, his feet making no sound, leaving no trail long enough for anyone to see. Determined, and obsessed, this target was not like the others..Something irked him this time around, and he wasn't going to let it go.
A small mound of rock bore up from the ground, ages it had been there, and for ages it may just well remain. The assassin stealthily set his feet upon each sturdy rock, and made his way to the top of the small hill. From his point he saw far out to the desert, the previous camp he had passed (Dark-Skin now lazily laying at his post), the end of the desert that he knew, led to a long drop into the "Crater", all the way to the end of the Steamwheedle Cartel's Bay. His target nowhere in sight, and the night becoming colder, a wait was before him and he knew it.
Quietly, calmly, his thoughts came to him..What happened earlier that day..
"Heres another one for yah buddy!" A stout goblin, large and green in skin-color announced as he slid a large tankard of frothy liquid, down the bar, and to the face of one of the locals. His hood over his head, covering all but his chin, and his tunic pulled tight, covering up to the top of his neck, the assassin sat quietly in the back, observing all around him without prejudice. It was then, that his calm was disturbed, he felt it and from what he saw, no one else did. It was a chill, one that seeped into the building and crawled sneakily on the ground. The doors opened then, and she stepped in. Tall, composed, and suspicious, was the forsaken who didn't quite stride, but rather sulked in. Her face, clean and well set, was unlike that which the assassin had seen. The Reanimators never did the greatest of jobs bring back those who had passed on, and put them together so cleanly, yet this woman in particular, might have passed for a human had her eyes had not the brightest of golden-glows.
She spoke to the bartender quietly as he listened intently as he pointed at a table on the other side of the bar. Away from him, the assassin relieved, being quite comfortable. She sat, and looked directly at him, those golden eyes staring blankly through his hood, and right into his skull. He felt the stare, and immediately knew what he felt before she walked in. "Funny.." He thought to himself, "The hunter..being hunted."
His eyes slowly opened, and to his surprise, in front of him was exactly what he had come for. She sat atop a steed, received only by those who had fought the hardest and the longest in Warsong, and Arathi. It's hooves glowed dark red, and its armor bore the insignia of the Horde, a proud thing to adorn. She spoke to a troll, a familiar troll..It was Dark-skin! The assassin rose from his uncomfortable position, and crouched low enough to jump off the rock, and twenty or so yards from his prey.
"You have not seen him tonight?" The woman said to Dark-skin, "No way 'mon, I tol' chu alreadeh' no one be out he'ah dis late at night, AND livin!" he replied. He was agitated, but something about his voice said he wasn't about to overstep a boundary that the assassin didn't see. "Then perhaps if you weren't so god damned lazy, I would believe you Seig." Seig..So Dark-skin DID have a name.. "Lookit, I be sorry 'dat neidah' of us seen whatchu' be wantin' to see, dey' ain't much mo' we 'kin do." Seig said, his face showing small lines of fear, having said what he had said. "Then return to your post, but let it be known, if he slips past, You will live no more..."
The assassin saw the conversation end, and he sought to end what he knew would kill him in time.
His footsteps leaving no trail now, he was at his calmest of mind, he moved closer and she didn't feel him. Without a seconds hesitation, she was dismounted and on her back as the assassin knelt atop her. "Who are you woman..I know you are after me, and I know how you fight." She lay on her back, grasping for air as her hands were pinned to the ground by the assassin's knees, her legs held by his feet, at her thigh. "Tanka'duki, and you're quicker than I thought you would be." She rasped out as the assassin unsheathed one of his swords, letting the edge of the blade fall only seven inches short of the Forsaken's neck. With his arm aimed to the left, and the edge of his blade laying on the right, he spoke once more "Who has sent you, and what are you being rewarded?" His voice sounding slightly calmer, though still very commanding. "My master..He seeks to reward me with life once more, to let me live once more as I was. My master..Tuya." She spokes desperately as the assassin let off of her throat, his blade still read to decapitate the woman. "You wouldn't succeed, your master knows who he is sending to kill me woman. I'll tell you such now, and let you live." And as he spoke these words, he stood, his weapon finding its way back into its home, and his left hand offered out to help the Forsaken up. "I must know your name, I beg it of you." She asked, rising to her feet. "My name?..." He hadn't spoken his name in so long, it had almost been forgotten.."My name..Is Sen. Sen Xin'." She stood there, staring into his face, now covered only by a jet-black mask that covered his face from the nose, down to the neck, his eyes a blue-tint. "I am in your debt, I know you may have killed me, and your motive behind such would not be wrong. But allow me to fight by your side, in your footsteps. I wish to know how you moved so quickly, the way you kill.." She spoke, her face looking more like that of a child by the minute. Silence came from Sen for a long time when she had finished speaking. He had never had a request, nor anyone who had wished to learn from him before. "Perhaps soon, but not now. You are young in age, and I do not believe you mature enough."
He rose the next morning, warm, but not annoyingly warm. His bed lay low to the ground, and his dagger sheathed at his waist had dug into it the night before. She lay next to him, her body beautiful, her skin smooth.. Something about her made him trust her, he couldn't put his finger upon it, but he knew there was something about her from the moment he felt her presence at the bar. She slept peacefully, which meant she wasn't dead, and Sen damn well knew this. He had thought about this girls request while he slept, and he was still unknowing. How did she show such a display of power? How did she not know who she was hunting..Tuya was behind this..And he remembered..
That was the day he had gained his speed..Sen was known as "The Sandstorm" for a reason, and it was Tuya's doing. Tuya had blessed him, and he did it unknowingly. Sen had fought Tuya before, and had sucked the life out of him. Left him for dead. But according to this young girl, Tuya wasn't dead..
The winds kicked up, and Gadgetzan was sealed, and the gates were slammed shut.
Sen was left with the girl, and he had time.
Time..Such a strange concept..
Subject: The Sandstorm 
Wed Oct 24, 2007 5:07 pm
