----------------------------------------

Eversong Woods,

The fire crackled softly in the night in the middle of their small camp. Jadzia sat on a large rock at the edge of the clearing, knees drawn up to her chest, her chin resting on them as she stared into the flames.

The world around her was still - Eversong Woods, wrapped in the deep hush that came only when predators and prey alike had settled into the rhythm of the night. Her knife lay beside her, its shimmering, reality-shifting edge catching occasional glints of firelight, casting fleeting distortions on the forest floor.

Lazar lay nearby, sprawled on his back with his arms folded across his chest, his deep, rhythmic breathing the only sound besides the crackling fire. She glanced at him once, taking in the faint glow of the Light still clinging to him even in sleep, although she doubted he knew. It was subtle, she only noticed because she'd been trained to notice the smallest detail.

It was almost comforting, she realized. Almost. There was something about him - his presence, the strange mix of recklessness and warmth, wildness and comfort - that made her feel safer than she had any right to be.

But that safety was a lie, wasn't it? Just like everything else.

It was always a lie.

Everything was lies.

Jadzia let out a slow breath, her gaze drifting back to the fire. The warmth of it seeped into her bones, but it couldn't chase away the chill lodged deep inside her. The kind that didn't come from the night air but from memory.

It always came when she had time to sit still. To think. The firelight blurred, flickering, and she was pulled back into a different time, a different place.

Ravenholdt Manor.

Her family's ancestral home loomed large in her mind, its corridors stretching endlessly, cold stone underfoot, the scent of wax and leather always lingering in the air. She remembered running those halls as a child, small feet pattering across the polished floors, always just a step behind the expectations set for her.

Never enough.

Her training had started before she could fully comprehend what it meant to be a Ravenholdt. She was the youngest, the girl, and she was always treated like she couldn't measure up.

Her earliest memories were of bruises, aching muscles, and the stern voices of tutors drilling her on technique. Knives, poisons, hand-to-hand combat, lock picking, disguises - there was no end to the skills they demanded of her. And when she succeeded? There was no praise, no encouragement. Only the next task, the next challenge.

'Good job' didn't exist in Ravenholdt Manor. Neither did 'rest' or 'you've earned this'. There was only work. Work until her muscles burned and her fingers bled. Work until her mind buzzed with holy texts she'd memorized to perfection - just in case she ever needed to pass as a priest. She had mastered every passage, every scripture, reciting them word for word with mechanical precision. But no one ever told her she'd done well. No one hugged her and said they were proud.

She was the spare child, the one thrown to the wolves to test a new training program. The one who was unworthy.

While her siblings dined with the family, she hunted for food or scrambled for scraps, because the training schedule did not have room for such 'lazy' things.

Just her.

Always her.

The brief interactions she had, not enough to matter, not enough to make her understand.

There was only her grandfather's cold stare, the occasional nod of acknowledgement from her father, and the ever-present weight of knowing she wasn't doing this for herself. She wasn't a daughter or a granddaughter anymore. She was a weapon. A tool. Molded, sharpened, and honed to be used.

She had thought that was just how life worked. That everyone's family was like hers. That she couldn't complain, that this was just life.

That she deserved it.

Until they'd given her permission to leave the manor for a few hours each day.

"You need to learn how to blend in," Her father had said, his tone devoid of warmth. "Socialize with commoners. Learn how they think and act."

But for Jadzia, it had been more than that. For the first time in her young life, she had been allowed a glimpse of something normal. Something real.

And to her surprise, it turned out that water torture used as punishment when one failed to learn a cipher quickly enough, was not actually normal.

She'd been six the first time.

So she'd wandered into the nearby village, unsure of what to expect. She had watched the townsfolk go about their lives, laughing, chatting, living without the constant pressure of perfection. And then she had met Amelia.

The innkeeper's daughter had been a few years older, with freckles on her cheeks and a mischievous glint in her eye. She had pulled Jadzia into games of tag, showed her how to skip stones across the pond, and introduced her to the simple joy of sitting on a wooden fence and watching the world go by. For the first time, Jadzia had played. She had laughed. She had felt like a girl, not a weapon or a tool.

Those afternoons had been the happiest moments of her life.

Even if she'd been dreadfully embarrassed to have to have Amelia explain what purpose laughing was for, having never encountered it before.

She should have known better.

She really should have known.

Six months after she met Amelia, everything changed.

She had been dragged to a cell in Ravenholdt Manor, not by her father or grandfather, but by a servant. Someone she barely knew, as if the task of escorting her to her task wasn't important enough for a family member to handle personally. Inside the cell, bound and blindfolded, was a naked and bruised Amelia, tears running down her face.

Jadzia remembered the sound of her friend's breathing - shallow, panicked, and muffled by the gag in her mouth. She had stared at Amelia, her mind struggling to process what she was seeing. The servant's voice had been cold and impersonal when he delivered the order - extract a piece of information from Amelia using what she'd studied on torture. Then dispose of her.

Training.

It had all been training.

A test to see if she could kill her emotions and do her duty.

She had broken then and there. Not physically, but mentally. Something had shattered inside her, a fragile thread that had been holding her together. She had realized in that moment that she didn't matter. That no matter how hard she worked, no matter how many holy texts she memorized or how many targets she eliminated in the future, she would never be seen as anything more than a tool. Family didn't matter to them. She didn't matter.

She had realized it was all a lie. Life, family, everything in-between. It was all a lie.

Her six months of some sort of happiness. A lie she told herself.

She must have always known…

That it would come to this.

Even she. She lied.

And because of her, because of her hiding the lie from herself. Amelia had to die.

Amelia had cried harder when Jadzia knelt beside her and took the gag off. She had whispered her name, her voice trembling as she tried to reassure Jadzia that it would be okay, that she didn't blame her. But Jadzia knew it wouldn't be.

She had done the only thing she could for Amelia - she had made it quick. One strike. Painless. She didn't ask for the information. She didn't fulfill the task. She didn't care. She couldn't.

She killed twice that day. Amelia, and herself.

She was just taking forever to finish, whereas Amelia ended quickly.

They had punished her for that failure. For weeks, she endured the consequences of her defiance. Bruises, broken bones… But none of it hurt as much as losing Amelia, or in losing any faith in life or people as a whole.

Losing faith in herself.

When her wounds finally healed, she made her escape. Only because she owed Amelia to not just give up.

Owed her to try and live the lie a bit longer. The life she couldn't have anymore, because Jadzia took it.

It hadn't been easy, but desperation had driven her. She had fled the manor, making her way into Lordaeron, always looking over her shoulder, waiting for the moment when her family would catch up to her. But they never did. Maybe they didn't care enough to try.

Months she spent on her own, sometimes forced to use her skills as a rogue, as much as it disgusted her.

Eventually, she joined a caravan heading into elven lands. It had seemed like the best place to learn magic, surrounded by people who valued magic over stealth. She'd already stolen some magic books, and she had her medallion. She had wanted to learn magic, to be something more than just a knife in the dark. She had wanted to prove - to herself, if no one else - that she could be more.

A lie to herself, because she'd never be more. But when saying it for herself didn't work. She told herself she would do it for Amelia.

Either way she'd never be anything other than the girl who slid her knife into her best friend's heart.

Sitting by the fire with Lazar sleeping nearby, she wasn't sure she had succeeded in becoming something new. She knew he wondered about her. How much was an act.

Not all of it was. There was some comfort in seeing death, to her. In begetting death, not out of duty, just on a whim.

Death was… Truth.

There was no lie hidden behind it. Just… The end.

She'd let go of everything that tied her to this life except Amelia, to any realm of sanity, every notion that people were people, that they deserved to live.

No one deserved anything. They simply received what cruelty happened to pass by.

If Amelia had to die. No one else deserved anything.

She glanced at him again, taking in the rise and fall of his chest. He was different from anyone she'd ever met. A troll wielding the Light, grinning like a loon, like he was supposed to be able to do what he did. He didn't fit into any of the neat little boxes the world tried to put him in, and that fascinated her.

She so detested boxes. Sanity was overrated.

Life was simply meant to be lived until you died.

So what did it matter what she did?

She might as well learn magic, hang out with a Troll, kill lots of pitiful creatures that lied to themselves that they were real. That they were people worthy of anything.

Why not?

Made as much sense as any other plan she'd had.

Even if he too, lied, as easily as he breathed. She could tell he thought he was protecting her.

So she let it be.

She could live with this lie.

She didn't know why he tolerated her, why he hadn't abandoned her to fend for herself. Maybe he saw something in her that she couldn't see in herself. Or maybe he was just as lost as she was, and they were both clinging to each other like driftwood in a storm.

Either way, she was grateful for him. For his lies, the lie that he cared.

It felt nice. Even if it was only pretend.

She'd miss him when he killed her, or she killed him, or someone else killed them.

Maybe her whim to worship the Loa would do it. Or maybe they'd see the world like she did.

Because Jadzia knew this wriggly worm of a happy feeling in her chest was the worst lie.

Amelia had taught her that.

Happiness doesn't last. It's an illusion.

Still, she faked a smile, a manic grin, and played stab the troll.

She could pretend until death came.

Jadzia stretched her legs out, leaning back as she listened to the sounds of the forest.

The fire crackled on, its warmth chasing away the chill, if only for a little while.

She practiced another happy smile.

I'm happy, Amelia, truly.

… My lies are getting better.

----------------------------------------

A few days later, Eversong Woods.

Lazar leaned against a broad tree trunk, his large arms folded across his chest. His sharp violet eyes watched Jadzia carefully as she paced in front of the campfire, her small frame crackling with restless energy, like a caged beast looking for an escape.

She was always a little crazy, but there had been a different energy around her lately, like she was arguing with herself.

Well, better for his sanity if she argued with him instead, and he had a feeling she would, because he had decided on a course of action.

"Girl, we gotta leave da woods," Lazar said, his tone firm but not unkind. He shifted, the bark behind him creaking under his weight. "Dat elf we killed - if dis really be a Windrunner, mon… We ain't stayin' safe fer dis area, dey will come."

Jadzia spun to face him, her icy blue eyes narrowed. "We don't even know if he was really a Windrunner," She argued, her voice sharp with defiance as she put her hands on her hips. "And if we don't know, maybe no one else does either. We're fine, let's just keep doing what we're doing."

"Dis ain't fine, girl," Lazar said, pushing off the tree and stepping toward her, shaking his head. "Elves don't take kindly ta their own dyin'. Especially if dey had da right blood, mon. We be hunted soon, Jadzia. Dis place be too hot fer us now."

He would bet money that the elf truly was a Windrunner, because that was not a name thrown out in jest.

Now while he wouldn't mind killing Sylvanas when she was undead bitch numero uno - she hadn't done anything too bad yet. And would also have the support of all those pesky Rangers.

So best to not be here when she went Amani hunting for this. He really hoped he hadn't accidentally started a war between Quel'Thalas and the Amani. Not that there ever was peace, but a full blown war right before the scourge was less than ideal.

Jadzia stopped pacing, crossing her arms and glaring up at him. "I'm not going back into human lands." She told him flatly.

He really didn't like the way she said that. Like she wasn't one. One day he really needed to get this girl's story.

Lazar let out a low sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Girl, listen. I be a troll, a few elven arrows in me, an' I keep movin', but you? Ya not made for dis kinda heat. Dis be for ya own good, mon."

Her jaw clenched, and her glare deepened. "Humans are trash. There's no point in going to Lordaeron."

"Ya gettin' real stubborn on dis," Lazar muttered, shaking his head. "I got my reasons too, girl. I need news on da state of Lordaeron. We head there, learn what's happenin'. Den, if it be too dangerous, we leave if we hafta, but dis we need ta do, mon."

Jadzia stomped her foot, scowling like a child denied a treat. "You're a troll, Lazar. You'll be the enemy of everything down there." She crossed her arms, wrinkling her nose in a way that made her look adorable, not that he was stupid enough to point it out.

"Den nothin' changes, yah?" Lazar shot back with a toothy smirk. "I be da enemy of everytin' here too."

Jadzia snorted but didn't laugh. Her arms remained firmly crossed, and her gaze didn't soften. "Humans are bad," She insisted, her voice quieter but no less firm. "We shouldn't go."

Lazar's smirk faded as he studied her. There was something off about the way she said it, the bitterness beneath her words. He stepped closer, lowering his voice. "What's goin' on, girl? Why ya hate dem so much? Dey yer people, mon."

Jadzia's eyes flicked away from him, her shoulders tensing like she was ready to bolt. "Don't you feel that way about yours?" She replied, her tone sharp and defensive, sidestepping the question entirely.

Lazar wasn't about to let it go. Not completely, she was being more open than usual, even if mostly in pure dislike. "I'm used ta my kind bein' hunted an' huntin' each otha, dey not be nice, girl. But you - humans are yah people, mon, not like us trolls. Why dis much hate?"

Silence fell between them, broken only by the crackle of the fire. Jadzia bit her lip, her gaze locked on the flames as she fought some internal battle. Tinkerbell, sitting nestled in her hair, swung her legs back and forth, humming softly as if trying to lighten the mood. But Jadzia's silence stretched long enough for even the fairy to stop and pat her head worriedly.

Finally, Jadzia exhaled shakily, her voice barely above a whisper. "If I go back, my family might find me."

Lazar's gaze softened, and his heart clenched. He'd suspected something along those lines, but hearing her say it made it more real. "An' I'm assumin' dis wouldn't be a happy reunion, yah?"

Her being abused didn't surprise him, but the rage he felt did. He barely knew her, for all that he'd come to enjoy her company, insanity and all, but he still wanted to find her family and rip them limb from limb.

If there was one thing he'd taken with him from his previous life, it was that child abusers deserved far worse than they got.

Jadzia's eyes snapped to him, her glare sharp enough to cut. She didn't answer, but the look she gave him spoke volumes. And made it clear she wouldn't be accepting any more questions on the matter.

Which was fair enough.

He wasn't sure he could stomach hearing it without something nearby to kill anyway…

Tinkerbell crooned as she patted Jadzia's head harder, like the speed of the pats would soothe the pain.

Lazar sighed, crouching so they were eye level. He reached out and rested a large hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently. "Girl, ya my partner now. Ain't nobody takin' ya if ya don't wanna go. I'll kill 'em all before dat happens, mon."

Her lip trembled for a moment before she caught herself, forcing her expression into something harder. "You might not even see them coming." She brushed it off, "Don't make promises you can't keep."

"I can take a knife or two in da back an' keep swingin'," Lazar said with a wry grin. "I be a troll, girl. Takes more dan dat ta stop me. Fuck dem rogues!"

Jadzia didn't smile, but the tension in her shoulders eased ever so slightly. Still, the reluctance remained, and Lazar knew pushing too hard would only drive her further into herself. "Fuck the rogues!" She said with surprising cheer considering her mood, surprising him. Tinkerbell raising her arms and cheering along.

He smiled again, this time softer. "We need ta go, Jadzia," He said quietly. "For our own safety. If it be bad, we leave, mon. But dis we gotta try, yah?"

Jadzia stared at him, the conflict in her eyes plain as day. She wasn't the type to trust easily - he knew that much by now - but she also wasn't stupid. She knew he was right. After a long pause, she exhaled and nodded reluctantly. "Fine," She said, her voice grudging. "I'll come with, you need a guide of course, or you'll stumble into the middle of a town and get skewered like a dumbass."

Lazar chuckled, standing back up. "We'll be fine, girl. Ya got me ta protect ya, an' me? I got a wild lil' murder girl ta watch my back."

Perhaps he was only excarberating her issues this way. But this was Azeroth, being a bit trigger happy was good when almost anything you ran into was looking to kill you.

Also, he was no therapist by any stretch, he didn't even know if Azeroth had any. So if this was how she coped, it was good enough. Azeroth was a murder world, sociopaths could be the greatest heroes here, where Genocide was par for the course.

Jadzia rolled her eyes, but her lips twitched faintly, as if fighting a smile. Tinkerbell clapped her hands, her chiming laugh filling the air. Everyone's getting along! Yay! She seemed to say, twirling in Jadzia's hair, she was surprisingly expressive, for someone who didn't speak like they did.

Jadzia held up two fingers. "I want two magic books for agreeing to this."

Lazar groaned, rubbing his face. "What ya tink I am, a magic book dispenser, mon?"

Of course she'd take advantage and press him for something. Such a mercenary little girl…

She tilted her chin, ice blue eyes trying to glare her into submission, her stubbornness back in full force. "We'll steal them if we have to, no biggie. Find a mage, stab them, whatever. But I want something for facing childhood trauma cuz you're too scared."

Lazar threw his head back and laughed, the sound echoing through the clearing. "Still a child, girl," He reminded her, shaking his head. "An' I dunno how much trauma it be if ya usin' it ta haggle, mon." He grinned down at her. "Fine. IF we find da chance, we'll snatch ya some magic books."

If she was going to make light of it, he'd play along, it would work better than digging and making her shut down, he hoped.

Jadzia nodded, though her gaze remained conflicted. "Fine," She muttered. "I suppose we can go to Lordaeron, just so I can hold your hand, you big scaredy cat."

Lazar smirked. "We were goin' either way, but nice of ya ta come 'round ta it, mon."

"Stupid, smelly troll," She muttered, pouting. Tinkerbell attempting to pout too in her hair, Lazar had a feeling his summon had a favorite…

He bent over her and sniffed Jadzia theatrically, his grin widening. "I smell like a normal troll, girl. Can't say da same 'bout you an' a normal human, mon."

Jadzia's face scrunched up in offense. "Don't sniff people, you savage! And if you'd just tell me how to contact the Loa, I'd be a proper troll too!"

"Not happenin', girl," Lazar said flatly.

If he was enabling the girl, it was nothing against what the Loa would do.

"C'mon," She wheedled, her voice turning sweet in that way only she could manage when she wanted something. "Just tell me what I need to sacrifice and how."

Lazar grinned darkly, tapping a finger against her forehead. "Ya sanity."

Her face fell, her lips pressing into a pout. "Oh," She said dejectedly. "I don't have that." Tinkerbell immediately began rooting around looking for the missing sanity, making it hard for Lazar to keep his mirth down.

Instead he focused on what she'd said.

Lazar gave her a long look, one brow raised. "Oiy, ya too young ta be dat self-aware, girl."

Jadzia shrugged, not bothering to deny it.

Lazar got up, stretching, "Eh, dis be ta heavy, mon, let's train, yah?" He offered, knowing the girl brooded less when she was active.

She reached for her knife, but before she could grab her terrifying temporal blade, Lazar tossed her a regular one. "We trainin' now," He said. "No stabbin' me wit' da time-warpin' thing, yah?"

He didn't need his liver to suddenly decide it had never existed. Sure, he had regeneration, but there were limits.

Jadzia grinned, spinning the knife in her hand. "Fine. But only because you're scared of it. I don't want to be a bully of a poor little troll…"

Tinkerbell fluttered over to hover just over Lazar's shoulder, giggling as she offered Jadzia encouragement. Stab him good! The fairy seemed to say in body language alone, twirling in midair.

"Traitor," Lazar muttered at the fairy, shaking his head. "My own summon likes ya better, girl."

Jadzia lunged at him with the knife, and Lazar deflected her easily, catching her wrist and twisting it gently but firmly. "Focus, girl," He said, stepping back. "Dis lesson's 'bout not lettin' me grab ya if ya miss, ya gotta be light on yer feet, keep yer stance looser."

She gritted her teeth, circling him, her steps light and quick, like a predator looking for an opening. With a sudden burst of speed, she struck again, this time feinting to the left before darting right. Lazar blocked her easily, but she twisted like a snake, slipping out of his grip and darting behind him.

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

"Better," He grunted, turning quickly to face her.

She needed these training sessions, because the more time he spent with her, the more obvious it became she'd been trained to stab someone in the back. Not the front.

Tinkerbell darted around Lazar's head, clapping her tiny hands in excitement. Cheering Jadzia on, earning a small grin from the girl.

Lazar ducked to avoid her twirling form when it came close to smacking him in the face, muttering under his breath. "Fairy, I swear, if ya keep dis up, I'm tossin' ya into da river. Ya sure yer my summon, mon?"

Jadzia laughed, her eyes gleaming with mischief as she circled him. "Should've thought of fixing being a smelly old troll, obviously I'm the superior choice for a master here."

With a burst of speed, she lunged again, knife slicing toward his midsection. Lazar deflected the strike with ease, catching her wrist and twisting gently. "Too predictable, girl," He said, stepping back. "Try again."

She was too used to going for immediate kills or debilitating injuries from the get go. She needed to realize that sometimes against bigger enemies, death by a thousand paper cuts was a possibility as well, and one more likely to not see her crushed for overextending too easily.

Jadzia gritted her teeth, wiping a bead of sweat from her brow. Tinkerbell darted around again, offering unhelpful advice. Hovering around his knees, pointing excitedly, seeming to say. Go for his knees! He's big!

Lazar groaned. "Dis fairy's gonna be da death o' me." Shitty traitor fairy…

It was good Jadzia had a friend, sort of, he supposed.

"She's not wrong," Jadzia teased, lunging forward. This time, she feinted downwards to the left, spinning quickly to her right when he began moving to counter. Lazar caught the movement in time, but barely - her knife barely stabbed through his tunic, poking him shallowly before he knocked her back.

She'd known he'd expected her to go for the knees, and used it as bait to strike for his abdomen. Good. That was better.

"Almost, girl," Lazar admitted with a grin, stepping forward to keep the pressure on her. "But ya gotta commit ta da follow-through. Feints work, but not if ya hesitate at da last second, mon."

She needed to be nimble, light and prepared to disengage at a seconds notice, but when the opportunity was there, she needed to strike with everything, as long as she was sure the gamble was worth it.

Jadzia huffed, circling him again. "I don't hesitate."

"Ya do," Lazar replied calmly. "Not much. But enough fer someone faster ta take advantage."

With a quick twist of her wrist, she flicked the knife upward in a throw, pulling another knife from her belt. Lazar swatted it aside but found himself on the defensive when she immediately followed up by sliding by him aiming a stab to his shin. He grunted, shifting his weight just in time to avoid being knocked off balance and stabbed through.

"Better, mon, much better." He acknowledged, stepping back. "Again."

She retrieved her knife, now double wielding, her breathing slightly heavier, but her eyes burned with determination. She feinted twice, testing his reaction before diving forward. This time, she slipped under his guard and nearly landed a solid hit before he grabbed her wrists and twisted her off balance.

"Almost had me, girl," Lazar said, letting her go gently.

Jadzia panted, brushing her hair from her face. "One day, troll. One day, you'll slip."

He chuckled, stepping back and giving her room. "Mebbe, mon. But dis not be da day."

Tinkerbell fluttered over to Jadzia's shoulder, clapping gleefully.

Jadzia laughed, patting the fairy's head.

"She's makin' it worse," Lazar muttered. "Dis fairy's got it out fer me, I swear."

"She just knows real talent when she sees it," Jadzia said smugly, grinning. "And right now, that's me."

Lazar barked a laugh, wiping the sweat from his brow. "Keep tellin' yaself dat, girl." He motioned for her to sit by the fire. "Dat's enough fer now, mon."

It hadn't been meant to be a real proper training session anyway, he'd only wanted to knock her out of her mood, and in that he succeeded.

Jadzia sank onto a nearby log, still grinning. "You know, I think you're afraid of me gettin' better."

Lazar snorted, grabbing a waterskin and tossing it to her. "Afraid of ya? Girl? Ye be loa damned right." He teased her back.

She caught the waterskin and took a long drink. "Yeah, yeah. I know you're just messing with me, liar. You'll see, I'll get you for real one day.."

"I'll be waitin'," Lazar said, settling down across from her. His grin softened slightly. "But ya did good fer today. Real good, mon. Yer improving quick-like, proud of ya."

Jadzia lowered the waterskin, blinking at him before hiding her expression behind a casual shrug. "Yeah, well..." She trailed off, seemingly unable to think of anything to say in response.

Tinkerbell giggled, spinning happily around them both, forming her tiny hands into a heart.

Jadzia rolled her eyes, but there was no heat behind her muttered words. "Don't get mushy on me, fairy."

Lazar chuckled, leaning back against a tree as the fire crackled between them. "Dis team's fine, girl. Even if it comes wit' a stab-happy partner an' a traitorous fairy, we be good, yah?"

Jadzia smirked, flicking a pebble at him. "So what you're saying is that everyone but you are awesome?"

Lazar could only grumble, happy that she was in a better mood, even if at his expense.

----------------------------------------

Several days later,

The sun filtered through the dense canopy of Eversong Woods, as Lazar and Jadzia moved cautiously through the underbrush, the sounds of nature blending seamlessly with the crunch of leaves beneath their feet. They had been traveling for hours since breaking camp that morning, following a path that led south toward the borderlands, where Eversong would eventually give way to the rolling hills of Lordaeron.

Lazar halted suddenly, crouching low to the ground. His violet eyes narrowed, focusing on the faint impressions in the soil. His long fingers traced the tracks carefully, brushing away loose leaves and dirt to get a clearer view.

"Hunter," He murmured, just loud enough for Jadzia to hear. His gaze flicked to another set of tracks nearby - a large, padded paw print, barely visible to anyone not paying close attention. "Wolf companion. Whoever dis be, dey know how ta stay quiet. Light steps, controlled gait. Probably an elf, maybe a huntress cuz small feet, mon"

He hoped they just happened on a trail, and that they hadn't unknowingly been following someone and he'd just noticed the signs…

Jadzia stepped closer, peering around him. Her small frame barely disturbed the surrounding foliage. "Here for us?" She whispered, her voice tight with concern.

Lazar shook his head, his eyes glinting faintly in the filtered sunlight. "Nah, too soon, girl. An' dey too alone. If we were bein' hunted, it'd be a group, mon. Dis one just out huntin' wildlife."

The only one he could see hunting them solo would be Sylvanas, perhaps. But it was too soon, and she was a Ranger, not a hunter.

He stood, brushing dirt from his hands. "We go 'round," He added quietly. "Ain't lookin' ta mess wit' no elves, mon."

Jadzia nodded, her expression tense. She followed close behind as they adjusted their path, weaving carefully through the trees to avoid detection. But before they had gone more than a few steps, a loud, melodic voice rang out from above them, startling birds into flight.

"You thought you could track me! Odette Dewblossom!? Hah!"

Lazar and Jadzia froze, their heads snapping upward toward the source of the voice. Perched on a large tree branch above them was a striking high elf woman, her golden blonde hair cascading over her shoulders in twin braids. Her crystal-blue eyes sparkled with a mixture of triumph and playful arrogance as she gazed down at them.

She was dressed in form-fitting hunting leathers that hugged her curves in all the right places. A strategically placed boob window exposed a generous portion of her cleavage. Her shorts - if they could even be called that, being miniscule - clung tightly to her, with a leather skirt of overlapping straps draping down from her waist, partially concealing them with dramatic slits.

That can't be normal hunter garb, he thought critically, but then bikini armor is a thing here.

Also, Dewblossom, really? With names like Sunstrider, Sunreaver, Sunsorrow, Windrunner… She really didn't measure up.

Jadzia muttered something under her breath that Lazar didn't catch, but he could guess the tone well enough, her eyes very critical as she looked up at the elf.

"We're just leavin', mon. Wasn't trackin' ya, was tryin' ta avoid ya, actually," Lazar said carefully, his muscles tensing as he subtly shifted his weight, ready to spring into action if things went south. His fingers tightened around the Silver Hand resting against his back.

Odette, oblivious to the tension in his stance, snapped her fingers with an overly dramatic flourish. The underbrush rustled, and from the shadows emerged a massive wolf with dark gray fur. The beast was the size of a Shetland pony, its paws making no sound as it padded into the clearing. Its eyes glowed faintly, and it let out a low, rumbling growl that reverberated through the forest.

"Careful now, you malicious, maleficent malcontent!" Odette declared, her voice practically dripping with theatrical flair. She pointed a finger at him as if delivering some grand accusation. "Or Lor'themar will eat you for dinner!"

Lazar blinked, deadpan. "Ya named ya wolf after Lor'themar Theron," He said flatly, his tone making it clear he wasn't asking a question.

His hand left the shaft of his weapon, he had a feeling there was no threat here.

Odette's cheeks flushed a deep crimson, and she flailed her arms as if trying to swat the words out of the air. "S-Shut up!" She stammered, clearly flustered. "I don't f-fantasize it's his warm body enveloping me when I snuggle with my wolf at night!"

Lazar's tusks twitched as he fought to keep a straight face. "...No one asked, mon," He replied, relaxing slightly. This wasn't going to be a fight. Probably. The elf in front of him didn't seem like the kind who could stay focused long enough to be a danger to him.

This was still Azeroth, so no doubt she was skilled with that bow on her back, but her personality was not that of a seasoned killer.

Jadzia finally spoke, her voice dripping with derision. "I thought you said elves were dangerous," She muttered, shooting Lazar a pointed look before glancing back at Odette. Very much judging her.

Odette jerked, as if noticing Jadzia for the first time. Her wide, crystal-blue eyes locked onto the human girl, and her already flushed face turned an even deeper shade of red. "A h-human girl!" She stammered, her gaze darting between Jadzia and Lazar. "In the company of a vile, lustful troll!"

Despite how she said that, she looked far too excited in Lazar's opinion, and he watched her warily.

She pointed a trembling finger at Lazar, her voice rising to a shrill pitch. "You beast! Have you no shame? What unholy lusts do you slake with this poor young girl!? Using your superiorly muscled body to take what you want like a savage monster! Breaking her poor mind as she screams for mercy in throes of insane pleasure!"

Lazar took an involuntary step back, his instincts flaring as the elf wiggled back and forth in excitement. Her wild gestures and flushed expression were as unsettling as the words she was spewing. Beside him, Jadzia followed his retreat, muttering under her breath, "She's cracked."

"Dis," Lazar said, exhaling through his nose and rubbing a hand down his face, "Be why elves have a reputation."

His troll side had heard of this. Every so often the Amani would run into an elf or two with really weird ideas. It never ended well. For the elf.

Odette wasn't done. She stepped off the branch gracefully, landing on the forest floor with the kind of lithe, fluid movement only an elf could manage. Her wolf, Lor'themar, padded over to her side, his massive frame almost dwarfing her petite figure. She rested a hand on his head, stroking his fur as she glared at Lazar. "Don't think I won't defend this innocent maiden from your depraved clutches, troll! I'll cut you down myself if I have to!"

Lazar raised his hands, palms facing outward. "Girl, ya got it wrong. Ain't no clutches here, an' ya makin' somethin' outta nothin'. We just passin' through, mon."

Jadzia, arms crossed, scowled at Odette. "Yeah, I don't need rescuing. Especially not from someone who looks like they raided a brothel's wardrobe."

Lazar gave her a weird look, she knows about brothels but had no idea what I was talking about when I made innuendos weeks ago?

Odette gasped, clutching her chest as if Jadzia's words had physically wounded her. "How dare you! This outfit is custom-made by Silvermoon's finest leatherworkers!"

"Did ya ask 'em ta forget half o' it?" Lazar muttered under his breath. Also, leather booty shorts? Because she sure as hell wasn't wearing anything underneath that tiny thing. Wouldn't that… Chafe?

Odette narrowed her eyes, but before she could respond, Jadzia tugged on Lazar's sleeve. "Can we go now? I don't think this one's all there."

"Ya read my mind, girl," Lazar replied, already turning toward any direction that would take them away. "Stay safe, elf. Hope ya fantasies wit' Lor'themar work out." He said a mocking goodbye.

Odette's face turned scarlet, and she stomped her foot. "You - you trollish brute!" She ran ahead of them, turning to face them dramatically, "You poor, unfortunate human girl! Your mind has been broken and you now see no wrong in this vile beast's pawing." Odette Dewblossom's voice rang out, her melodic tone soaring above the trees as if she were delivering a soliloquy. "Don't worry! I will save you from his ravenous lusts!"

Lazar stopped in his tracks, his tusks twitching in sheer disbelief. Jadzia groaned, muttering under her breath, "What the hell is wrong with her?"

The crunch of heavy paws on leaves drew their attention as Odette's massive wolf companion, Lor'themar, trotted past them, his dark gray fur rippling with each step. The wolf's ears were pinned back, and its glowing eyes looked faintly apologetic, as if it, too, was embarrassed to be associated with this entire ordeal.

Lazar cast a sidelong glance at Jadzia. "See dat, girl? Even her wolf know dis elf be cracked."

He ignored Odette entirely, already well aware someone like her was unlikely to listen to anything he said.

Jadzia snorted. "I feel bad for the wolf."

Their banter was interrupted by a loud, exaggerated yelp from ahead of them. Both turned to see Odette dramatically stumble over what was clearly nothing but flat ground. With the finesse of a stage performer, she fell forward onto the dirt, her arms splayed out in front of her, her toned legs bending slightly to push her rear high into the air. The short leather skirt did little to cover her as she wiggled her hips with deliberate emphasis.

"Oh no!" Odette cried, her voice a mixture of breathless despair and poorly masked excitement. "I have fallen! The troll will be able to do anything to me now! I have failed my ancestors!" She wiggled her rear again, her voice taking on a more mournful tone. "At least the human girl will get a break as he breaks my body and mind, ~over and ~over again!"

Lazar blinked slowly, taking a long, measured breath before he continued walking, stepping around her without sparing her another glance. "Come on, girl," He said to Jadzia, who followed him but opted to take an even wider path around Odette, as if she were afraid proximity alone might infect her with whatever madness the elf had.

Odette lifted her head just enough to watch them pass, her mouth falling open in pure shock, speaking louder as if to make sure Lazar could hear in case he'd missed it the first time around. "Yes, this innocent maiden is about to face what so many elves faced in the wars! The brutality of the strong, muscular trolls, showing no mercy as they press our faces into the dirt and rip off our clo - hey!" Her voice cracked with indignation as she scrambled to her feet. "You can't just walk away!"

Lazar didn't even pause, his long strides taking him deeper into the forest. "Dis be easy choice, mon, you be beyond any help," He said over his shoulder.

Jadzia burst out laughing, clutching her sides as she tried to keep up with him. "Okay, this was kind of awesome, I don't even want to kill her, it's hilarious now."

Lazar did not share in her amusement. This woman had similarities to some fictional girls he'd seen in his previous life, and he didn't need that headache…

Odette was relentless. She rushed ahead, darting past them with surprising speed and once again blocking their path. Her face was flushed, and her long ears twitched with a mixture of embarrassment and determination. She jabbed a finger into Lazar's broad chest, the force of it doing absolutely nothing to him but making her stumble slightly.

"What kind of troll are you, beast!?" She demanded, her voice rising as if personally offended.

Lazar raised his hand, and Odette visibly trembled, her breath hitching as she bit her lower lip and gazed up at him with wide, eager eyes. But instead of whatever fantasy she had concocted in her head, Lazar simply placed his hand gently on her shoulder and lightly shoved her out of his way. She staggered to the side, her eyes following him in disbelief as he kept walking.

Odette let out a shriek of pure frustration. "I spent decades preparing!" She shouted, her voice echoing through the forest. "Reading all the t-texts on the atrocities done to poor elven maidens over and over again! Studying the drawings, the diagrams, the knowledge written by the progenitor of my line. What is wrong with you!? Are you defective?"

Lazar's eyes widened slightly as he turned his head to glance back at her. "What's wrong wit' me, elf?" His tone was incredulous, disbelief dripping from every word.

"I told you she's cracked, it's still kind of funny though…" Jadzia muttered, shaking her head. She turned to look at the massive wolf standing a few feet away, its ears flicking nervously as it followed the conversation. "Can I throw a fireball at her?" She asked, half-joking, half-pleading.

The wolf growled softly, its glowing eyes narrowing at Jadzia. She raised her hands defensively. "Just a small one!" She said quickly, clasping her palms together as if in prayer. The wolf tilted its head, its expression oddly thoughtful, as though it were actually considering her proposal.

At that moment, Tinkerbell fluttered lazily out of Jadzia's hair, stretching her tiny arms and letting out a yawn. She blinked sleepily, her wings fluttering lazily before she perched on Jadzia's shoulder.

Odette's gaze snapped to the fairy, and her already flushed face somehow turned even redder. Her breathing grew heavier, and her eyes glazed over as she clasped her hands against her chest. "The holy texts have spoken of such things," She murmured breathlessly. "I never thought I'd see it in person, ohhh, how her tiny body must ~suffer!"

Lazar's eye twitched, his patience hanging by a thread. "What da hell kinda holy texts ya been readin', elf?" He demanded, his voice laced with annoyance.

Odette squirmed in place, her fingers fidgeting as she poked them together. Her gaze flicked between Lazar and Tinkerbell, her lips parting as she whispered, "Do you… Ravage the fairy, too?" She sounded way too hopeful.

Lazar's growl was low and dangerous, the sound vibrating through the air. "No," He said firmly. "And dere be no 'too,' elf. I ain't ravagin' anyone."

Odette's expression shifted into one of pure disappointment. "There's something very wrong with you, troll," She said, her voice almost pitying. "Is that why you are alone? You were cast out for being a sword swallower?"

Lazar exhaled slowly, rubbing a hand down his face. "Jadzia," He said, his tone flat and resigned, "Ya may cast fireball at ya leisure, mon."

Jadzia grinned wickedly, her palms already beginning to glow with fiery energy. "Gladly."

Yet as the wolf stepped forward with a low growl, Jadzia let the energy fade, pouting. "Oh, you're no fun…"

Odette crossed her arms, ears twitching, "If you must be so defective, troll, tell me, where are your kind gathered in numbers? I know of the Amani homeland, but I feel I must prepare myself first with small groups…" She began visible panting, cheeks flushing, "Taking on two, no three… NO, four trolls at the same time, to make my ancestors proud! Just like the holy texts said!"

Lazar glared at her, refusing to even entertain her insane ramblings, as he turned around and left, yet again.

Odette declared she'd get him to talk, as Lazar and Jadzia left.

Lazar could feel a migraine coming. He really wished he was evil at that moment. Because an evil troll would be perfectly fine with sending this mentally ill elf to the Amani to be gangraped and then either eaten, or sacrificed to the Loa.

Because he wasn't that much of a bastard…

He had a feeling he'd just gained another hanger on.

Joy…

----------------------------------------

Two weeks later, close to the border with Lordaeron.

Lazar and Jadzia continued to trudge along the winding paths between the trees of Eversong. The gentle rustling of leaves overhead, accompanied by the soft chirping of crickets, made for a deceptively serene backdrop, one that belied the ever-present annoyance gnawing at Lazar's nerves.

Behind them, not too far away, there was the unmistakable sound of someone following. It wasn't subtle. The occasional giggle, the snap of a twig, or the exaggerated hum of a cheerful melody all betrayed Odette Dewblossom's presence as she stalked them. Lazar's fingers tightened around the strap of his pack, his teeth grinding together as he tried to ignore her.

The first few days had been bearable. Just barely. But as the first week melted into the second, Odette's constant presence became a persistent itch he couldn't scratch.

And no, not the kind of itch she obviously wanted scratched…

Campfires were no longer peaceful. As Lazar would sit by the fire carving wood or Jadzia cleaned her latest loot after they'd cleared some Murloc village or Gnoll camp, Odette would perch herself high in a tree just above their camp, lounging on a thick branch as though it were a luxury suite. Her wolf, Lor'themar, somehow managed to climb the tree alongside her and would curl up beneath her, serving as a warm pillow.

"I don't get how dat wolf climb trees," Lazar muttered one night as he watched Lor'themar casually leap from branch to branch without a sound, after having clawed its way up a tree.

Jadzia smirked, throwing another log into the fire. "Power of love, probably." She teased. She had gotten endless amusement out of their stalker.

"Everyting 'bout dat elf be some kinda nonsense, mon." He rubbed his temples as he listened to Odette's latest lament, above them.

"You know," She said, her voice soft and melancholy as she gazed down at him from her perch, "It's just so sad. A big, strong troll traveling with a vulnerable human girl and a supple innocent maiden elf, and yet - nothing. No grave sins, no hedonistic adventures. What's happened to trolls these days?" She sighed dramatically. "Where's the passion? Where's the slavering lust? The brutality? My ancestors would weep."

Lazar groaned, covering his face with his hands. "Loa, grant me patience."

Jadzia giggled, clearly enjoying his suffering. "She's not that bad," She teased.

"She be worse, mon" Lazar muttered darkly. "Her ancestors and da holy texts all be freaks."

The wolf's ears twitched as though agreeing with him. Even Lor'themar seemed exhausted by Odette's antics, often looking apologetically at Lazar when she launched into one of her rants about elven maidens and troll savagery.

By the second week, he was ready to snap. If not for the fact that killing Odette felt morally akin to kicking a baby, he might have genuinely considered it. She wasn't a bad person - just profoundly annoying and deeply delusional. Her sheer obliviousness made it feel like striking her down would be too cruel, even for him, like harming a mentally retarded person for saying silly things.

With her following them, it became increasingly obvious why she was alone in the woods, and not with the rest of elven society…

At least it meant she was unlikely to stab them in the back for the Windrunners. Because that wasn't the kind of stabbing she wanted…

Still, his patience wore thinner with every night they camped, and Jadzia's growing amusement really didn't help.

"I'm serious, girl," Lazar said one night after Odette had fallen asleep above them. "One more week o' dis, an' I be reconsiderin'."

"Come on," Jadzia said, her grin widening. "You're the one always saying you're tough. You can survive this. Besides, I'm rooting for her to wear you down, it would be hilarious!"

Lazar grumbled, kicking dirt onto the fire to smother its embers. "Dis I tink you be waitin' a long time fer, mon. Odette… Dat elf make a man reconsider a lot o' tings."

He'd never wanted to strangle someone so badly, but she'd probably like it, which helped stay his hand.

The truth was, Odette was undeniably gorgeous. Her golden hair shimmered like sunlight even under the moon's glow, and her crystal-blue eyes could have easily enchanted any man who wasn't too busy being driven insane by her trash personality. The hunting leathers she wore clung to her lithe figure in ways that were impossible to ignore, her toned legs and exposed cleavage a constant, infuriating distraction.

Like any warmblooded man back in his reality, a hot elf was high on the list of women to go for. Even as unlikely to work as that was when he was now a loa damned troll.

But the moment she opened her mouth, all attraction died a painful death, each time.

"Anyone but her, mon" Lazar muttered to himself as he settled down for the night. "Please."

The next day, their travel finally brought them within an hour's distance of the gatehouse that marked the border between Eversong and Lordaeron. The towering stone structure stood in the distance, its watchtowers visible even through the thick trees. But as they drew closer, Lazar's sharp eyes picked up on something that made his stomach sink.

The gatehouse had been fully repaired since last time. The crumbling remnants he remembered from his last visit had been rebuilt, and the place was now crawling with guards. Plate-armored humans patrolled the area, their weapons gleaming in the midday sun. Their movements were precise, their eyes sharp. There was no lazy scum sitting and playing cards this time around.

"Dey ain't gonna make dis easy," Lazar muttered, stopping to assess the situation.

Behind him, getting a piggyback ride, Jadzia peered over his shoulder, frowning. "How'd they fix it so fast? There weren't this many guards last time."

"I dunno, girl. But dis ain't good, mon."

Before he could strategize further, Odette caught up to them, skipping lightly down the path and sidling up to Lazar with an almost predatory smile. Her wolf followed closely, its large paws making barely a sound on the dirt trail.

"I can get you through!" Odette declared, her voice bright and confident.

"No," Lazar said flatly.

"Hell no," Jadzia added, jumping off his back, "You're funny, but not that funny."

At least the girl wasn't willing to trust her life for just amusement, he thought. Glad she only made exceptions for his suffering…

Odette pouted dramatically, leaning toward Jadzia with wide, pleading eyes. "But I can help! Also, you know… I'm a high elf - I know how to use magic. Maybe not as a full mage would, but all elves know some spells."

Damn, he thought, eyes narrowing, she's been studying us as she's been stalking.

Jadzia's eyes lit up at the word 'magic,' her stance immediately shifting. "Wait, you can teach me stuff?"

"Of course!" Odette said sweetly.

"Alright, my no has changed to a hell yes!" Jadzia beamed, her earlier disdain vanishing.

Lazar groaned, running a hand down his face. "Girl, dis not a democracy. My word be final, mon."

Jadzia's enthusiasm faded into a pout, but she didn't argue further. Still, the damage was done - Odette's smile widened, clearly sensing her small victory, and the chance for more.

Lazar exhaled sharply. "Loa dammit, I'd rather deal wit' da undead." He knew fighting would be a bad idea.

Although getting his numbers up were a good idea in general, if he wanted to come across as a hero, or world class adventurer later, able to travel unmolested, he couldn't keep killing any guards he saw. Eventually someone would clue in and he'd get a hero on his ass, and be declared some kind of villain.

It would be hard enough already, being a troll, he didn't need to make it more difficult. A few caravan guards or a lone guard or two, sure. A whole contingent like this? Hah, no. No way that stayed secret.

And a high elf travelling between Quel'Thalas and Lordaeron would have higher chances getting through. Now only to figure out how to get me through with them…

Damnit… This means she's part of the group for sure…

"Is that a yes?" She asked as he continued to be silent, practically bouncing on her toes.

"Fine, mon." He muttered, defeated.

Odette's eyes sparkled with excitement, and a blush crept across her cheeks as she opened her mouth to add something undoubtedly inappropriate.

He was not going through a border as some sex slave or whatever she could think up.

"No weird stuff, mon." Lazar said firmly, cutting her off before she could start.

She pouted again, her bottom lip trembling slightly. "Are you sure you're a troll?"

He gave her an irritated glare, refusing to answer that again, it would only lead to her long winded descriptions of her idea of a troll, taken from her ancient sex manuscripts she proclaimed as holy texts.

Jadzia at this point had sat down cross-legged nearby, carving idly into a stick with her knife, "We could just kill them all, Elfy is good with a bow and has a fuck you sized wolf, I got my cool knife and tink, and you're half decent I suppose."

You've got tink? Smart-ass girl…

Also a definite no. "No, girl." He said out loud, "Dis be too much heat, we be adventurers, not villains, mon."

When she gave him a pout of disappointment, tinkerbell also popping out of her hair to match her, he almost folded, because Loa, that was too cute and adorable.

He held strong, "Dis ain't up for debate, girl," Lazar said firmly, "We do dis without killin'. We make a mess, dey send heroes after us, an' trust me - dat ain't somethin' we be wantin'."

Jadzia sighed dramatically. "You're no fun. They wouldn't even miss a few guards."

Odette's eyes sparkled with the kind of excitement that made Lazar's stomach knot. "She's right, you know. That's not very troll-like," She said with a sly grin. "I should know. I'm an expert on trolls."

Lazar groaned, running a hand down his face. "Elf, I am a troll. Dat make me da expert."

Sure, he was more of a human with troll flavor and casing, but he was still better than a woman whose whole experience on trolls came from ancient porn!

Odette waved a hand dismissively, as if that minor detail was irrelevant. "No, no, no. I've studied your kind thoroughly. Rituals, social dynamics, mating practices -" She wiggled her fingers dramatically, " - all gone over very extensively. The texts even had drawings of troll anatomy and their cruel savagery upon maidens~" She purred the last sentence like it was a secret task she couldn't wait to share in.

Jadzia perked up instantly, her knife pausing mid-whittle as her eyes lit up with curiosity. "You know how to conduct a ritual to contact a Loa?" She asked eagerly.

Lazar's head snapped up so fast he nearly dislodged his tusks. His hand made a swift cutting gesture across his throat as he shot Odette a warning glare, his violet eyes narrowing. Don't. Say. Another. Word. His gaze said.

Odette tilted her head coyly, her lips curving into a pout. "Oh, no," She murmured to herself, her voice dripping with faux innocence. "If I make him angry, he'll want to punish me~ Whip me, or maybe break me on his huge co -"

"Stop!" Lazar barked, his voice strained. "Stop talkin', elf!"

Odette giggled, her cheeks flushing as she turned to Jadzia, who was staring at her with wide, hungry eyes. "I've never actually tried a full Loa ritual," She admitted, "but I've studied excerpts from captured trolls. I could teach you some minor rites to get started, that should theoretically work."

Jadzia squealed in excitement, tossing her knife aside and rushing forward to hug Odette around the waist. "You're the best! I've been trying to get this big lug to teach me forever, but he won't. You're officially hired!"

Odette ran her fingers through Jadzia's hair affectionately. Giving Lazar a challenging look, "Oh, sweet girl, don't you worry. I'll teach you everything I know about trolls and their fascinating practices…"

Jadzia turned around and stuck her tongue out at Lazar, her expression full of smug satisfaction. "See? Someone appreciates my thirst for knowledge."

You two have very different ideas of thirst…

Outwardly, Lazar groaned, burying his face in his hands. "No Loa worship, girl. It be bad mojo. Trust me, mon."

Odette's grin widened, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "I understand your upset~" She cooed. "And if I overstep, you can just punish me! I'll protect the girl by taking everything you can throw at me, no matter how brutalized my poor flesh becomes!" She wiggled excitedly, shaking her bottom.

Lazar let out a strangled noise somewhere between a growl and a sigh. He knew, deep down, that he couldn't just ignore this. If Odette was going to be teaching Jadzia anything, he'd have to supervise - one, to make sure the girl didn't accidentally sell her soul to Hakkar or some other dark Loa, and two, to ensure that Odette wasn't feeding her complete nonsense. The elf had already proven she had a very… Unconventional interpretation of trolls.

Besides, just telling Jadzia no was never going to work. Tween or teen, it was still the rebellious age.

Grumbling under his breath, he sat down heavily on a nearby stump, "Dis my life now," He muttered. "Babysittin' a murder girl an' a crazy masochist elf."

He glanced over his shoulder, watching as Odette and Jadzia huddled together, whispering conspiratorially like schoolgirls sharing secrets. Tinkerbell fluttered lazily above them, the fairy let out a small yawn before landing on Jadzia's shoulder, nestling comfortably into her hair.

Odette's fingers traced invisible patterns in the air as she explained something with great enthusiasm. Her cheeks were flushed, and her words spilled out in a breathless stream. Jadzia nodded eagerly, hanging onto every word.

Lazar pinched the bridge of his nose. Loa, give me strength. I'm gonna lose my damn mind.

He could already picture the disaster this would lead to - Jadzia enthusiastically performing some half-baked ritual in the middle of the forest, Odette cheering her on, and then something horrific appearing to devour them all. He'd have to put a stop to it before it got that far, make sure they did it right.

As horrible as the idea of Jadzia having the ear of a Loa was, he could at least ensure it wasn't too bad.

Standing, he dusted off his pants and approached the two troublemakers. "We focus on gettin' past da gatehouse first," He said firmly, cutting through their giggling. "No Loa rituals, no nonsense, no weird texts. Odette, what be ya plan, elf?"

Odette's eyes sparkled mischievously as she reached into the bag slung over her shoulder. "I'm so glad you asked~" She sang, pulling out a set of iron manacles, chains, and a thick collar.

Lazar stared at the restraints, his expression deadpan. "...Ya really just carry dat 'round every day, mon?"

"I like being prepared~" She replied with a wink.

Her plan, of course, involved pretending to escort Lazar as a chained prisoner and delivering Jadzia as a runaway returning to her parents. Lazar could already picture the guards' suspicious glances and the inevitable questions. No way was he letting himself be chained up by this lunatic.

The chance was too big she'd default to the sex slave excuse, and he didn't trust her to not offer to demonstrate that fact to the bored guards, knowing Lazar couldn't exactly protest if he was playing a slave.

"Yeah, we not doin' dat," He said, pushing the chains aside. "Guards might just kill me on sight for bein' a troll, mon." That's the excuse I'm using, definitely isn't that other thing…

Jadzia snapped her fingers, her face lighting up with a wide smile. "I have an idea! When you need to sneak somewhere, just be a complete opposite to a rogue!"

This girl has subscriptions, not issues, Lazar thought, only able to shake his head with faint amusement. The girl at least having grown on him, unlike the maso-elf.

Minutes later, the three of them stood just beyond the treeline, peering at the gatehouse in the distance. Lazar exhaled slowly, mentally preparing himself for the insanity Jadzia had concocted.

Even as he acknowledged it would probably work.

Odette straightened her posture, her golden hair glistening in the fading light as she adjusted her leather armor. Jadzia, meanwhile, wore a perpetual scowl, arms crossed tightly as she radiated pure teenage rebellion, playing her role of runaway. Lazar, was now hidden beneath the glowing aura of Light he had just summoned, resembling a walking sun.

"Remember, elf." He muttered, "No funny business, mon."

Odette giggled. "Wouldn't dream of it~"

Right, bet there aren't many things you don't dream of… He thought, shaking his head.

Lazars eyes darted to the heavily fortified structure just ahead as they walked closer, its stone walls newly repaired, banners fluttering lazily in the afternoon breeze. Armored guards moved with precision across the gatehouse's battlements, their eyes scanning for any hint of trouble. It was a far cry from the rundown ruin it had been last time Lazar had passed through. Now, it practically oozed human efficiency.

Odette and Jadzia stepped forward first, the elf's confident stride complemented by the human's perfectly grumpy performance. Jadzia scowled, her arms crossed tightly over her chest as she glared at anyone who dared glance her way. Her posture, her narrowed eyes - it was all authentic. She didn't even have to act.

She was after all a runaway.

Odette's voice was sweet and melodious as she addressed the guards stationed at the gate. "Good afternoon, sirs! I'm Odette Dewblossom, a ranger of Quel'Thalas, and I'm escorting this runaway back to her family." She placed a gentle hand on Jadzia's shoulder. "Poor thing. She's had quite the rebellious streak."

Jadzia huffed, turning her glare up a notch as if daring the guards to comment.

The gate captain, a gruff man with a thick mustache and a permanent scowl, narrowed his eyes at the pair, one hand shielding his eyes. "And the shining beacon behind you?" He asked, gesturing vaguely toward the blinding light emanating from Lazar, not even his silhouette visible he was shining that brightly.

Odette clasped her hands together and let out a dramatic sigh, her expression the picture of sorrow. "Ah, yes. That's Father Lazarus. He's a human priest who's… Well, he's been communing with the Light for so long, he hasn't quite figured out how to turn it off yet. I'm escorting him to Capitol City to rejoin his brethren."

The captain squinted, shielding his face from the radiant glow. "Light be with you, Father," He mumbled, waving them through, the guards unwilling to have them hang around for long with such blinding light in their faces.

As they passed the final checkpoint and entered the wooded path leading into Lordaeron proper, out of sight of the gatehouse, Lazar finally dimmed the blinding light. He rubbed the back of his neck, muttering to himself, "I can't believe dat actually worked, mon."

Jadzia, smug as ever, walked beside him with her nose held high. "Told you. My idea was flawless."

Odette skipped ahead of them, her golden twin braids bouncing with each step, Lor'themar striding along beside her. She looked back over her shoulder, her lips curved into a teasing smile. "See? I'm useful."

Lazar sighed, running a hand down his face. "At least now, wit' maso-elf here, ya two can enter human villages without me drawin' too much attention, mon. We need ta learn da lay o' da land - find where da gnolls, kobolds, or murlocs be hidin' so I can keep busy."

Jadzia nodded thoughtfully. "And if we run into anyone important, we can always say we're adventurers cleaning up the countryside."

"Exactly," Lazar agreed. "Might even make 'em overlook me bein' a troll if we help 'em enough."

Odette's eyes sparkled as she twirled in place, clutching her hands to her chest. "Oh, human villages~! I've dreamed of this day." Her voice dropped into a husky whisper. "Maybe they have a stockade where naughty women are punished~! Made to service every man and woman in the village, like in the holy texts!"

Lazar's tusks twitched as he fought the urge to throttle her. "What da hell kinda holy texts have ya been readin', elf?" He had a feeling he'd be repeating this alot...

Humans too? Was her ancestor just… A giant slut?

She placed a finger to her lips, blushing prettily. "Just the good ones~"

He exhaled sharply, glancing toward Jadzia, who seemed equally bewildered. "I be hopin' she settle down soon, girl. She be useful right now, but if she keep dis up…"

Odette skipped ahead again, blissfully unaware of their conversation. "Come along, you two! Adventure awaits~!" She sang, "Maybe we'll be captured by human bandits, and of course I'll sacrifice my dignity to save you both…"

Lazar groaned, casting one last pleading look to the heavens before following her. Loa, give me strength.

Was it him? Was he just a sucker for the broken ones?

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A few days later, Eastern Lordaeron.

The woods were quiet as Lazar leaned against the trunk of an old oak, his long legs stretched out as he tapped the haft of his Silver Hand against the dirt in lazy rhythm. He hadn't eaten anything decent since forever, and the constant diet of roasted game was starting to gnaw at him.

A troll needs variety, dammit. So while his companions searched for news, he'd also asked them to buy food, charging Odette with paying and making herself useful. Soon enough, his ears twitched as he heard the crunch of leaves nearby. Jadzia and Odette were returning, and judging by the weight of Jadzia's footsteps, they'd found something worthwhile.

Jadzia emerged first, as she tossed a small cloth sack toward him. "Brought you some food," She said, the crumbs on her face showing she'd already partaken herself.

Lazar snatched it midair, the scent of meat, not game, making his mouth water instantly. He tore into the pork sausages without ceremony, juice dripping down his chin as he devoured the first one in two bites. "Mmm," He grunted appreciatively, grabbing the wedge of cheese next and giving it a sniff. Smelled horrifically, but it was cheese, not venison or herbs, so he took a bite anyway.

Tasted like shit too, but he took another bite. Because it was cheese, not the same shit he'd been eating for forever now.

Odette followed closely behind Jadzia, her eyes glued to Lazar's mouth as he ripped into the food with feral abandon. She leaned against a tree, one hand idly tracing the curve of her hip while she watched him chow down like he was performing some kind of ritual sacrifice. Her breathing hitched slightly, and Lazar could hear the soft, rhythmic rustle of her leathers as she shifted her thighs together.

"Ya enjoyin' da show, maso-elf?" He asked between bites, not even bothering to look up.

Odette flushed but didn't deny it. "You have terrible table manners~" She said with a dreamy sigh, her gaze lingering a little too long on his sharp tusks.

Lazar rolled his eyes, muttering something about brain-damaged elves before turning his attention to Jadzia. "How did it go, mon?" He asked, voice muffled as he tore into another sausage.

Jadzia's expression darkened, her grip tightening around her belt. "Bad news," She said flatly. "Stratholme's gone. Rumors say the prince put the entire city to the sword because of some undead plague."

Lazar paused, mid-chew. He slowly lowered the sausage, his gaze hardening as her words sank in. So it's started, then. Swallowing the mouthful, he set the food aside and closed his eyes, calling the Light to pulse through his body. Warmth radiated outward, flowing through him and into the food, cleansing any potential taint that might have lingered. He couldn't afford to take chances, not with how quickly this plague could spread.

Jadzia watched him with a raised eyebrow. "Paranoid much?"

He grunted. "Ain't takin' no risks, girl. If dat plague be real, ya don't wanna end up one o' dem walkin' corpses."

Jadzia's eyes gleamed with a mixture of fear and bloodlust. "Guess that means we'll have plenty of undead to kill soon."

Lazar smirked faintly, picking up the wedge of cheese and gnawing on the edge. It still tasted terrible - sour and grainy - but compared to the constant diet of stringy rabbit and bland venison, it might as well have been a feast. "Dis village be having news bit closer by, mon?" He asked, his mouth full of cheese.

Jadzia's grin widened, sharp and predatory. "Yeah. A tribe of gnolls has been harassing the local farms. There's also a kobold infestation in a cave a few miles east, and two different bandit groups robbing travelers on the nearby roads."

Odette sighed out, "Bandits~" But they both ignored her.

Lazar chuckled, licking his fingers clean. "Now dat be music ta my ears. More boons, here I come." He turned to Odette, leveling her with a serious look. "You, don't kill-steal, got it, maso-elf?"

Odette pouted adorably, her lips trembling as if he'd just kicked her favorite puppy. "My name is Odette!" She said, her voice dripping with wounded pride.

"Whatever ya say, maso-elf," Lazar grunted, finishing the last of the sausage.

She shivered, her cheeks flushing as she hugged herself. "Your disregard for my feelings doesn't make me feel good at all~"

"Just don't kill-steal, ya hear me?" He said again, ignoring her quirk.

Odette giggled, her fingers dancing along her thighs. "I'll be good~ I promise~"

Lazar exhaled heavily. He glanced at Jadzia, who was snickering under her breath. She had long since stopped being annoyed by Odette's antics and now seemed to find them endlessly amusing.

He still remembered their first encounter with a small gnoll camp on the way to the gatehouse when Odette was first stalking them. Lazar, determined not to waste an opportunity for experience points, had wiped out the gnolls using the Light and large applications of violence.

He'd expected Odette to react badly - maybe be horrified by his power or ask questions about the nature of his magic. Instead, she'd muttered something about being able to 'go on forever' with the Light healing all wounds no matter how much he whipped her, and how it was 'just like the holy texts'. Lazar had given up on understanding her then and there.

She was useful, though. Her presence alone made it easier for him to pass through human lands without immediately getting attacked. An elf of Quel'Thalas drew attention but also some respect. People listened to her. Jadzia, on the other hand, was too young and too feral to be taken seriously by most adults, so her addition to the group was actually useful.

It just didn't feel like it all the time. Hopefully she'd settle without needing correction.

Besides… He'd probably just make her worse.

Lazar stood, stretching his arms over his head. His muscles flexed beneath his skin, drawing a breathy sigh from Odette. "Where da nearest camp, girl?" He asked Jadzia, ignoring the elf's reaction.

Jadzia pointed north. "Gnolls first. They're closest."

"Good. Been workin' on my body level dis time, seein' what kinda reward it gives. Gotta stay balanced, yah?"

He didn't want to put all his eggs in the Light basket without seeing first what else body could give, and he'd probably do a level or two in Arcane or something to check it out too.

At least the elf knew how to use that bow of hers, and had the skills of a well trained hunter.

He'd take the chance to see what it looked like in real life, as opposed to the game he'd used to play…

… They were the weirdest damn adventuring party ever, weren't they?

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