I’ll try to keep updated here for now, but in the long run, just look for http://amaxewardiary.blogspot.com/

Still, she could not deny that what elements of the Horde were doing could only be considered evil by the view of the Light.  She hoped that it would not come to treason, but as it stood, something had to be done or else they would slip back into barbarism.

She rode on to Thunder Bluff to meet others with the cause.  Jarindar had told her they called themselves Lok-Narash An’she: “Arm Yourself [for the] Light” in a combination of Orcish and Taurahe, as the orcs had no term of their own for the Light.  An’she was an approximation of Light (it literally meant sun in the sense of the eye of the Earth Mother) and was a co-opted word used by followers of the light).  Members of the Horde who had joined the Argent Crusade had to learn many Common phrases to learn the theology.

She wondered why the LNA (as it was abbreviated) chose Thunder Bluff… aside from the fact that it was a virtual backwater, which could make it more secure as nobody went there… though there was rumors that the Goblins would start flying their zeppelins out there soon.

Her Gryphon landing, she looked around to find her contact.  Jarindar had said it would be a Tauren.

“Lok’tar Ogar” (Victory or Death) came a voice behind her giving the militant Horde greeting.  The tauren was a female, about seven feet tall, clad in beaded leather and bearing a staff.  “Greetings, Nergis.  I am Potichaua.  Jarindar told me to expect you.”

Nergis bowed.  Potichaua’s greeting was one which was safe from unwelcome ears.  “Greetings, Potichaua.  I am curious as to why I have been called here when I was told to contact…” the two of them changed subjects as some Orcish soldiers, wearing the Red Eagle of the Interrogators walked by. 

Potichaua made a face after they were gone.  “The Death Knights are so unnatural…”  Remembering her mission, she said “We call her simply ‘the wanderer.’  Simple and easily misunderstood.  Yes, we do want you to find her, yet we also want to ensure you can be trusted.  If you cannot be, your trail will end here with me.  Absalom may trust you.  The rest of us want to be sure…”

Nergis nodded.  Having given that Death Knight named Haukena the runaround, she could understand the need for security.  “I assume a test will be required?”

Potichaua nodded.  “What do you know of the Grimtotem?”

“As I understand it, they oppose our being members with the Horde, though they ally with the Forsaken, and are known to practice dark arts.”

“You are correct.  After the Incident at the Undercity, we have been concerned that the extremists would remove the leaders of the Horde in favor of their own evil leaders.  Between Garrosh, the Grimtotems, the Apothecaries and the Kael’thelas supporters among the Belfs, we have the potential of having a Horde which is not only cold to the Light, but would seek to do outright evil.”

Nergis nodded thoughtfully.  “So I assume you wish me to ‘remove’ an obstacle?”

“Yes.  I am sure the Crusade would not approve, but we do need to act to protect the Bluffs from attack.  In Dustwallow Marsh there is a village of the Grimtotems, whom we wish you eliminate.  Their actions are escalating the hostilities of the Alliance towards us.”

“Would it not do good for the Proudmoore ruler to learn of the dangers so she does not betray us to the Warchief?”

“Pah!” Potichaua spat.  “She makes up excuses.  She believes Thrall is the One and thinks what threatens him threatens peace, so she scuttles things which threatens her idea of peace.  No, my concern is with the King called Wrynn.  He is more stable than Garrosh of course, but his deeds can be rash.  If he does not realize that the Grimtotem seek to sabotage us all, he could see their acts as an act of war from the Horde itself.”

“So, another piece of inaction from our leaders means another threat to peace?” Nergis murmured gloomily.

“The ends justify the means, I believe…”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ironforge

“No, the ends do not justify the means” Amaxe said patiently.  A delegation of the Ebon Blade had come to visit King Magni, and as ambassador, Amaxe had been invited in.  The Ebon Blade had argued that the dispute over the tactics of the war was distracting from the ultimate end.  “There are three elements to a good act.  The end, the intent and the circumstances of the act itself.  If you miss one or more of these, you do not have a good act.  So in focusing on the end, but ignoring an evil intent or an evil circumstances, you in fact have an evil action.”

Rolf Brataas, leader of the delegation shook his head.  “Ambassador, I must respectfully disagree.”  His dead eyes hid the loathing he had for this Draenei.  “While it may be ideal to have a good intention and a good act, I believe it is wrong to make the ultimate end hostage to certain acts.  The Scourge has no scruples in the war.  We must set it aside as well or the Scourge will win.”

“It is ironic you should invoke the Scourge,” Amaxe said.  “It seems they are the direct personification of the philosophy of the ends justify the means.  Too many lives are lost because the one known as Prince Arthas and the one known as Ner’zhul justified this view.  The evil means corrupted the good end desired.  If we become as loathsome as the Scourge in our behavior, will we not become as evil as the Scourge?  How can we condemn Arthas for forcing corpses to rise if we do the same?”

Rolf snapped “We don’t force them to work for our own personal gain.  They are dead.  Let their bodies serve the war against Arthas?  Honestly, you followers of the Light are so unreasonable believing in an absolute morality!”

“Indeed?  Have you seen the Plaguelands?  I understand it was once a land of beauty.  Now, the undead walk serving the end of Arthas.  Now, if you do not believe morality can be absolute, then under what grounds can we say Arthas was wrong?”

“I don’t have to answer that!” Rolf snapped.

“You do if you want your answer to be deemed credible.  If there is no absolute morality, then the actions of the Scourge cannot be considered evil.  The Lich King is merely using means to a justified end in his view.  Only in the view of an absolute morality can we say that there is an evil to be opposed.”

Sir Nicholae Murgu listened with interest here.  He was watching the Ambassador in Ironforge, and he wondered if he had something to exploit here.  He wondered if, a partial reporting of the facts could lead to an accusation that she was denying the Scourge was evil.  If the Draenei could be convinced she was a heretic, there was no doubt her influence could fail.

“So, you believe that the Tournament is to be the model of behavior, jousting and fair play to the enemy?”

“Personally I think the Tournament is rather foolish because it confuses a means for an end.  The end of the Tournament is to foster cooperation between the Alliance and the Horde.  However, it views this end as a means to the defeat of the Lich King.  Because of this it is a confused logic and it forgets itself.  Training with jousting is not going to help in the defeat of Arthas.  As long as Kor’kron infantry shoot at Alliance troops in Ymirheim, the end of cooperation is bound to fail, while the end of defeating Arthas is hampered because the Tournament confuses two separate ends.  Rogues are not suited for battling on horses.  Neither are shamans and priests or mages.  Only the Warriors and Paladins and Death Knights are trained for such a form of combat. Yet the Tournament insists on this as a form of camaraderie, forgetting that those who can joust are by no means the only ones who can defeat Arthas, and those who cannot joust are deemed unready to face Arthas…”

She kept the bitterness out of her tone.  She trusted the Light to guide her to do what was right.  However, even though she was an Argent Champion, she was barred from the jousts on the grounds she might be hostile to the Horde.  Deliver me from pride… she prayed silently

“However getting back to the topic,” Amaxe continued, “the foolishness of the Tournament does not justify an evil act from the Ebon Blade…”

King Magni listened as the discussion went on.  He knew that the Scourge evil was furthered by Arthas, furthered by traitors in the Plaguelands… all of whom had a view that the end was what mattered, yet were corrupted.  He knew Amaxe was right in saying they could not use any means to accomplish their end…

…and yet, he wondered that if they threw away certain weapons, they were damning themselves to destruction.  Didn’t it make sense that the Ebon Blade would know the Scourge better than any other?  Or were one of them to rise up and become the next Lich King?  Truly it would be a gamble, for choosing one meant abandoning the other…

His ancestors and the ancestors of the humans had fought long and hard against the dragonkin and against the trolls against long odds.  What would his ancestors think of the current war and the means chosen to fight.  Would they have accepted the use of practitioners of voodoo against the troll foul voodoo magics?  Corruption or necessary evil?

Finally, he raised his hand.  “I believe I have heard enough for one night.  I will reflect on this and consider what the policy of the dwarves shall be.

He had a sense of what he should do, but was not sure he had the required trust in the Light to see it through.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ogrimmar

“A revolutionary society?” Thrall rumbled listening to the reports of the Interrogators.  This was another result of the attempted coup in Undercity.  Some of his “allies” were untrustworthy and a threat to the security of the Horde.

“Yes, Warchief.”  This was Stonebreaker Timur Cig, a heavily scarred orc.  “There was a murder involving some of the Hand of Vengeance.  An orc and a belf were suspected to be the killers.  We don’t have names, but both were believed to be members of the Argent Crusade.”

Thrall sighed wearily.  The Grimtotems, the Apothecaries, Garrosh Hellscream… hell, he had even heard some of the trolls were inspired by the Drakkari… all of them seeking to tear down the ideals he had created for a society which spurned the barbarism they had crawled from. 

“Do we have any ideas as to what they are pushing for?”  If they could head off the desires of another Secret Society, they could perhaps have peace for another year within the Horde.  Jaina had once used a saying Like herding cats.  This was what governing the Horde was like.  If it wasn’t going in the direction they wanted, it was about impossible to get them to cooperate.  Debts of honor only went so far…

“Only that they are practitioners of this religion of the Light and believe that what is contrary to the Light needs to be opposed.”  This was Magister Shinayne Windstrider, one of the “belfs” (as the blood elves were termed) and a wizard in service to Thrall.  “The enthymeme of their argument is that the Horde is contrary to the Light.”

“Religious zealots in other words?”

“Yes.  The religion of the Argents, though I don’t know how much influence the Argents have over them.”

“Pah,” Timur muttered darkly.  “The Argents are weak and of no use to us.  We should swing our support fully to the Ebon Blade.  Let that foolish Draenei continue to push them entirely into our camp.”

Thrall said nothing, pondering.  He remembered the strong rebukes the Ambassador had issued prior to the debacle of the Undercity. 

Whatever happens between Alliance and Horde, you stand at a crossroads between Light and Shadow and the choice you make will save or damn the Horde regardless of whether there is peace or war between us…

He knew there was truth in what she said.  The Apothecaries were proof of this.  Had they won, there would have been civil war within the Horde.  The Alliance had helped bring the Apothecaries down, which could have been used for encouraging peace and ending the cold war between the Alliance and Horde… and it had been brought to ruin because of the damage within the Horde.

“Leave me for now…” Thrall growled.  “I need to ponder this.”

The others left.  Thrall was certain that Timur would be reporting this to Garrosh and Garrosh would use this to assert the growing weakness of the Horde leadership.

Shortly after they left, the glowing of a portal appeared, and Thrall could see the outlines of Theramore on the other side.  A moment later, Jaina appeared to him.  He rose in greeting.

“It is good to see you again…” he said.  From a perspective of leading the Horde, her information was invaluable in assessing the Alliance.  However, their relationship was more than a relationship between two leaders.  He could see in her the ideal of friend.

Jaina nodded.  “It is good to see you too, though I wish it were possible to do so in peace rather than war.”  Personally, she was a bit taken aback by his appearance.  He seemed haggard, lacking sleep, seeming more suspicious than in the past.

Thrall turned to the map before him.  It showed where the Horde was strongest, and where it was weakest (more places than he would have liked in Northrend).  “I too wish so…” he said grimly.

Jaina looked at the map.  Kings Magni and Wrynn would have loved to have seen the map.  The information on it would have permitted some solid strikes at low cost, since they believed that the Horde wanted war.  However, she would never consider betraying Thrall, her friend.

“So, there is a new threat to our working for peace?” she asked.

“So it seems.  A group which seeks to force the Light on the Horde is working among us.”  He was over generalizing to be sure but he did not trust the system which went against the ancestors and the spirits of the elements.  “Since the Horde does not for the most part serve the light, this group must be seen as a threat.”

Jaina winced inwardly.  There was a difference between the Light and those who served it.  Personally she believed that the clergy of the Light were far too rigid in their moral requirements and that idiot ambassador Amaxe with her philosophical claims…  However, if Thrall could be exploited by extremists in the Horde to believe the Light itself was the enemy, then it was unlikely peace would be restored.

“Not all the followers of the Light are enemies of the Horde.  I understand the Argent Dawn and the Argent Crusade have members of the Horde who follow the Light—”

“What happens if they decide the Horde as it is needs to be overturned to bring about the Light?”

“What if they do not?  Would you do something to end a threat which does not exist?”  She feared Thrall was overreacting to the Apothecary incident.  He had trusted the Forsaken to police their own, they had failed.  Now he was lashing out at every sign of something odd.

Thrall looked down.  “What else can we do?  We are falling apart… not at the level of the individual member who is loyal, but all those who lead are becoming split by factionalism, by the difference between the followers of nature and the followers of the unnatural… There are a group among the druids I understand who are asking why they should work with people who scar the earth… the warlocks and the death knights… and this new secret group wants to have us abandon our own gods for this Light?"  The Horde would collapse into a bunch of tribes, loosely affiliated at best.  We will never be slaves again…”

Jaina wondered if he was considering the possibility of being a slave to his fears.  It was true that Thrall had been a slave, but Aedelas Blackmoore was not one who had acted under orders of the Alliance, but a traitor who sought to use the internment camps to create an army to turn against the Alliance.  In a way, the Horde was an extension of Blackmoore’s plot, in action though not for the intent he had planned.

Why can’t we just put things behind us and live in peace…?

The mopping up of the Outlands went on of course.  The Burning Legion had been broken for now but the damage they had caused remained.  Atlixcatzin flew through the spiked landscape of the Blades Edge Mountains, hunting the groups which destroyed the peace of the region.  The Draenei had called it Rehokyu once, and from the old maps, Atlix could see what Draenor once was.  What he experienced as a crumbling set of islands in the nether was once a part of a continent before the orcs destroyed it with their mad rush for power.

He shook his head.  What had looked like a lush world once, was now a dwindling crumbling realm losing its atmosphere and would eventually be lifeless rock in the void.  The hell of it was, he knew it was wrong but could not come to an explanation of why it was wrong.  Science and magic could bring power to the individual, but had nothing to say about whether to use this power.  He disagreed with Ama’ about the Light, but he could not deny that at least her system could explain good and evil in the world…

“Aquyina once reasoned that evil is not a presence, but an absence” Amaxe had said.  “Think of it as light and darkness or hot and cold.  What is darkness but an absence of light?  What is cold but an absence of heat.  The Light did not create evil.  Rather evil is a lack in the good.  A man might be valorous like Arthas, yet lack the good of charity which leads one to use the good of valor for an evil purpose.

Science however, could only tell him how to make his lightning generator, but not on what target he should direct it.  Magic could permit a warlock to unleash his curses and demons, but could not say “why not.”

Clearly some sort of ethics were needed, but how could a system which denied absolutes create a binding system.  Moreover, how could a system which sentient races created be binding when what one created one could unmake.

He was nearing his destination, Toshley’s Station.  He expected his orders would be waiting for him, and he expected that those orders would be for Netherstorm, where half of the remaining Legion forces remained.

He swooped in low, coming to a landing by the inn and transforming back into his elvish form, spooking some of the gnomes nearby. 

“You really ought to just use that flying machine of yours.  Its faster and we can hear it coming.” said Torin Wrenchtorque.

“You know the Engineering Guild hasn’t sanctioned me for machined flight yet.”  That was part of it… he had crafted a very fast craft for his use, but until he was permitted to take the Grand Master Engineer test, he would not be cleared to fly it.  The other part was transforming into a bird was that it made things much easier to slip into tight places compared to a racket of a gyrocopter.

“Well, anyway, we got your orders from the HQ, and its time for you to be moving on.”

“I expected as much.  Netherstorm?”

“Northrend.”

Atlix was surprised.  Northrend was where the real heroes went.  He doubted he was doing so well as to be a hero, and wondered if it was a case of needing fresh bodies to throw into the battle.  Rumors had it the battle was becoming a sustada pou lerōnetai.

“Here, I’ll call up the letter on the projection screen…” Torin fiddled with a large device — which erupted in a flash of fire and sparks.

“You know…” Atlix said wearily, “When the goblins blow something up, at least it’s usually because they mean it too…”

Face blackened, Torin emerged from the wreckage.  “How can you tell the difference between their successes and failures?”

Atlix chuckled.  “A very good point.”

Torin produced a scroll.  “Fortunately we had a backup.”

Atlix didn’t bother to ask why he didn’t do that in the first place…  Torin was a gnome after all.  Besides, it was an impressive device and he wondered if he could incorporate it into the Saronite bombs.

The note read:

You are ordered to come to Northrend, at the location of Valgarde, Howling Fjord no later than three weeks after the reception of this letter to take part in military duty against the Scourge.

It bore the seal of the Alliance commander of Outland.

“Hell.” Atlix said, growling at the news.  He was fitting now into his niche and was being removed from it.  He didn’t even know if his gear was up to snuff for the north.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Valgarde

Atlix leapt into a tree as the vrykul charged… not so difficult a feat when he was in cat form.  These giants were as cruel and vicious as the fel orcs yet were far more intelligent and fanatical.  From the tree, he leapt down onto a rune caller who was directing his attacks against the Alliance troops, mangling and clawing and slashing, finally ripping out her throat with his teeth.

Another charged as he lifted his head from the gory mess.  It was a shield maiden.  This was rather unnerving.  The elves had a tradition of woman warriors, though it was debated as to which came first, the druids in the emerald dream or the warrior tradition.  However, he had a little trick up his sleeve — almost literally.  He had a small metal gadget attached to his front leg, which when twisted, creating a circuit of energy.’

The device discharged and electrocuted the shield maiden, who twitched and screamed as she fell.  She lay still face first on the ground, wisps of smoke rising from her body.

He looked around for his allies, as the field was looking overrun at this time.  From a distance, he spotted a vrykul thane charging a draenei woman from behind.  “You come to die!” he bellowed brandishing his weapon.

The Draenei woman turned, showing a familiar tabard of the Argent Dawn.  “No, wrong verb.  I come to slay”  The voice was familiar too.

The thane seemed surprised the draenei was not cowed.  Raising his spear, he thrust  it at her.

Atlix had known Amaxe was a skilled fighter, but he had never seen her against a highly skilled opponent (and compared to Outland, these foes were extremely dangerous) as she fought now.  She was almost impossibly fast with her bulky weapons attached to her hands, parrying the blow, pushing the spear upward and crossing her blades across his chest in the form of an X.  She then spun around, driving her main hand weapon into the vyrkul’s chest, twisting it as she pulled it out.  The giant expired in a bloody fountain.

(Crimson Steel: Amaxe’s Main Hand)

She look up and saw Atlix’s white cat form, spattered red.  “Ah there you are…” she said.  She extended her hand and a vrykul warrior was thrown backwards from her earth shock and moved forward.

An alliance soldier cried out in agony as a vrykul drove a harpoon into his chest.  Like that night when he had seen her fight the death knights in Stormwind, Atlix saw Amaxe’s face seem to distort, and her eyes blazed.  If she seemed fast before, now her weapons spun with a lethal speed almost too fast for the eye to follow.  Her off hand weapon, something looking like a primitive carving with titanium teeth smashed into his knee cap.  The bladed titanium teeth bit into the leg, and when she twisted the weapon, it ripped into the leg removing the knee cap.

(Pride: Amaxe’s Offhand)

The main hand followed remorselessly, removing the giant’s arm at the elbow, and a flurry of blows ended the tormentors life… too late for the luckless soldier who had been impaled.

The fury seemed to leave her and she rushed over to Atlix, dripping from the gore of battle.

“What the hell are you doing here?” he yelled over the din of battle.

“I got word of your arrival, and decided to meet you here.  It’s a rough place.”

Atlix leapt into the air at the arrival of another vrykul, ripping into his flesh, while Amaxe applied the lethal thrust.

“You think?”  Atlix was at nerves edge after the constant waves of these evil giants.  His look softened.  “Glad you made it…” he admitted.

The vrykul were leaving, falling back for now.  Valgarde would survive another day, and they joined the rest of the exhausted defenders.  Atlix looked at the carnage of the field.  Science could not solve this.  Nor could magic.  Something more, something beyond was needed…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ogrimmar

Nergis sat in the tavern and listened to the talk.  She had been proud to be a defender of the Horde, even though they did not know the light.  But now… hearing the talk from her fellow warriors, she felt sickened.  The war had been billed as being against Arthas, but the first thing that had been done by the Forsaken in Northrend was to fire on the Alliance ships… mainly because they were living.  They had then gone on to assassinate leaders of the Alliance… who seemed to be merely defending themselves from the Horde while trying to fight the Vrykul, and then the Scourge under Keleseth had thought that their actions were worthy of them if they would give fealty to Arthas…

Somewhat intoxicated, she staggered out of the bar, cursing in Orcish.  What the FUCK was going on here?  She had been proud to defend the Horde against what she had believed were the right to defend themselves.  Since then her eyes had been opened.  Some of the means of the Alliance were condemnable to be sure, but they were wrong actions done in response to the injustices done to them, and more means used by the Alliance were right than wrong.

The war with the Alliance was portrayed as a war forced on them by the Alliance, but everywhere she turned, it seemed the Alliance was reacting to the provocations of the Horde.  Ambushes, use of plagues against the Alliance…

If it were not for us, perhaps Arthas would have already been defeated…  She had been one of the soldiers at Wrathgate, had seen the use of the plague against the Scourge and the Alliance alike.  There was no “Blood and Honor” in this.  There was only cowardice and treachery.

Hence her drinking.

Out in the street, some of the revelers were shouting “For the Horde!”  Nergis walked on by ignoring it

That caught some attention from hostile eyes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nergis could smell them before they came close enough to be a threat.  They were Forsaken, and from the Hand of Vengeance. 

“Well Orc,” one of them said in a gurgle, “You seem to lack loyalty to the cause, not even saluting when our nation is cheered.”

“Piss off, ghoul,” she said, unsheathing her weapons.

“Well, look at the living here…” said the second through a decaying set of vocal chords.  “Probably an Alliance sympathizer…”

Are there any such thing? Nergis wondered.

“I’m only anti-stupidity, and you people are the ones who put us in a stupid and pointless fucking war.  Perhaps you forgot that the Scourge may be weaker than the Alliance and Horde together, if we do the Scourge’s work for them, there’s nothing to stop them from coming to Azeroth, and think of the lives lost…”

The trio laughed.  “What fear have we of lives lost?  Death to the Living.” said one

“Let’s start with her…” they drew their own weapons and charged

Nergis was faster, and attacked first, her weapons causing the head of the foe to disintegrate, dropping its corpse to the ground.  She didn’t know if she had killed it, but she hoped that without a head it would be unable to attack.  She locked blades with a second, cursing, knowing that there was a third who could have a free attack.  Indeed, he drew his blunderbuss and aimed it at her.

Suddenly the body of the third convulsed as it was knocked aside from a powerful force.  Behind it stood a Blood Elf… Nergis had seen him in the Argent forts at times but did not know him well.

“For the Light!” the Paladin said, hurling his weapon at the final undead, dropping it where it stood with a sickening crack.

“Sister, are you all right?”

“I am…” she said.  She remembered his name now.  “Brother Jarindar, I am sorry to endanger you from this action.”

“There is nothing to forgive sister.  The choice I made was my own.  The reason I had followed you was because I had heard of some things about you.  If we can trust you, we would welcome you.  If not…”

There was some shouting in the street.  “We better move” Nergis said.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

An hour later, they were outside of the city and in a private room in a village tavern.  It was a humble place which made it unlikely any of the Vengeance would find them here.  Jarindar looked at Nergis.  “The stakes are high here.  Where is your first loyalty?  To the Horde or to the Light ?”

“To the Light.” she replied.  “The Horde is only good when it follows the light.”

“Would you swear an oath before the Light on this?”

“I so swear before the Light that if I had to choose between the Horde and Light, I would choose the Light.”

Jarindar looked towards a curtain and seemed to receive some sort of signal.  Nergis tensed, expecting a betrayal.  Jarindar gave a nod, and a dwarf came from behind the curtain wearing a tabard of the Argent Crusade.  Nergis was amazed to recognize Brother Absalom the Pious.

“It’s good to hear ye say that lass.”

“Brother Absalom?  What are you doing here in the land of the Orcs?” she asked.

“Trying to clean up a bad mess here for sure.  The Alliance has responded to the actions of the Horde rashly but not wrongly, so we have to find a way to stop the war — justly mind ye — and the problem is the Horde doesn’t even think they did wrong, so they will not give justice where it is due.”

Even though Absalom was of the Crusade, he was a dwarf, and her eyes narrowed at this criticism.  But she saw Jarindar looking solemn.

“He speaks the truth.  Tragically, our side has played the role of the moral coward.  I was in the throne room when the Alliance came.  It was after the Wrathgate.  Ambassador Amaxe was there with Lady Jaina, and Thrall spoke to the Ambassador and said:

Your champion, Bolvar, died in defense of our world. The Horde is saddened by the loss of such a great hero, but the Horde was not responsible for the cowardly attacks made by Putress at the Wrath Gate. We have also lost mighty heroes because of this betrayal.

Tell your king that we will do everything in our power to bring the perpetrators of this cowardly act to justice. We will do all that we can to avoid conflict with the Alliance, but we will not hesitate to defend ourselves if provoked.

“I tell you I wanted to vomit that day.  Never was I so ashamed of the Horde — no — of being Horde as I was then.  Our desire for expedience tolerated Putress and the Royal Apothecary society so long as they were useful, and I have no doubt we would have tolerated them to this day had they not struck despite the evil they worked.  We were responsible because we knew of their evil and we remained indifferent to it.  We fired on alliance ships the opening day of the war against the Scourge, and it was only because we succeeded in destroying all of them that the news did not reach the Alliance.  Thrall was either complicit or he was vincibly ignorant about the evil done.”

Nergis sighed.  She had been there at the taking of the Undercity.  “If only the King of the Alliance had not been so racist…”

Absalom gave a bitter laugh.  “Believe me missy, if I had been in the King’s shoes, I’d have said a damned sight worse than he did”

Jarindar looked bitter and sad as well.  “I remember the King’s words too.  He said ‘I could only think of one thing… What our world could be without you and your twisted Horde… It ends now, Warchief.’  If the Blood elves had not dealt with the shadow, if the orcs had not drank the blood of Mammeroth, if the Trolls did not practice cannibalism and voodoo, if we had not been so damned stupid as to take the Forsaken into our ranks… what would our world have been like if we had not accepted evil in the name of expedience and power?

“My whole life I supported the Horde, I believed our cause was just… now, the scales have fallen from my eyes.  I realize our cause was not just.  We condemned the Alliance for what we would have done in self defense had they did it to us.”

Nergis nodded.  “All this time, I thought I was alone.  I thought something was wrong with me for thinking similar as you do, but I see we are not far off.”

“Similar is not the same as alike.  How do you differ”

How we struggle with the ability to trust… Nergis sighed.  “The Warchief did so much for us… it is so hard to believe him culpable.”

“Lass,” said Absalom, “I was there too with Jarindar.  I recall what was said…”

Lady Jaina Proudmoore said, “Thrall, what has happened? The King is preparing for war…”

Thrall replied, “Jaina, what happened at the Wrath Gate. It was a betrayal from within…”

Lady Sylvanas Windrunner nodded “Lady Proudmoore, the Warchief speaks the truth. This subterfuge was set in motion by Varimathras and Grand Apothecary Putress. It was not the Horde’s doing.”

She paused before continuing. “As the combined Horde and Alliance forces begain their assault upon the Wrath Gate, an uprising broke out in the Undercity. Varimathras and hordes of his demonic brethren attacked. Hundreds of my people were slain in the coup. I barely managed to escape with my life.”

Amaxe spoke quietly then.  “How ironic a concern when the Forsaken often use ‘Death to the Living’ as a battle cry.”

“Lady Sylvanas stiffened at that, but said nothing.  I think perhaps it was because there was nothing to say.  Lady Proudmoore also looked upset at this comment… I think because she feared the truth was a distraction to peace.”

Thrall sought to move past that shot. “The Horde has lost the Undercity.   We now prepare to lay siege to the city and bring in the perpetrators of the unforgivable crime to justice.

Thrall sighed a rumbling sigh. “Know this, Jaina: War with the Alliance is not in our best interests. If we are forced into a conflict, the Lich King will destroy our divided forces in Northrend.  We will make this right, Jaina. Tell your king all that you have learned here.

Lady Jaina nodded: “I will deliver this information to King Wrynn, Thrall, but… Bolvar was like a brother to him. In the King’s absence, Bolvar kept the Alliance united. He found strength for our people in our darkest hours. He watched over Anduin, raising him as his own. “

Jarindar interjected then.  “Some sort of enmity seemed to form between the Ambassador and Lady Jaina then.  I could understand it.  It seemed so disloyal to the King of the Alliance.  Had a member of the Horde behaved such before the King of the Alliance, we would have considered him a traitor.”

Absalom nodded and finished the story.

Lady Jaina Proudmoore continued saying “I fear that the rage will consume him, Thrall. I remain hopeful that reason will prevail, but we must prepare for the worst… for war.  Farewell, Warchief. I pray that the next time we meet it will be as allies.”

Thrall then turned to the Ambassador and said “Tell your king we did not want this…”  She replied “That may be so, but it came all the same, and whether the Horde willed it or permitted it by inaction, responsibility remains.  Certainly they were able to act by a lack of law to prevent them.”  She gave him a look of pity and said, “Whatever happens between Alliance and Horde, you stand at a crossroads between Light and Shadow and the choice you make will save or damn the Horde regardless of whether there is peace or war between us.”

“Lady Jaina was rather pi… well rather annoyed, and both looked as if they could not wait to depart from each other’s presence.”

Nergis nodded.  “So why me?  I mean Jarindar here indicated that some sort of a group was interested in me.  Why?”

Jarindar nodded.  “As it stands, Lady Jaina seems to fear any further fractioning of the Horde will further disrupt peace between the Horde and the Alliance, and we fear that she will betray us to the interrogators of the Horde.  She seems to have decided that Thrall is the hope of peace, even if Thrall will not seek to reform the Horde.  Myself… I believe either we make the Horde into a society of law and justice or we are doomed to go back to evil ways.  The Ambassador is known for both being apolitical and believing in truth and justice, and could perhaps be a way to seek peace without betrayal.  You actually know here where we do not, and perhaps you could help communicate with her.”

“I see.  May I ask something?  Are you acting to betray the Horde to the Alliance?  Or to save the Horde from the Shadows?”

“The Latter.  I admit I do not trust King Wrynn to be having our best interests in mind for a reformed Horde devoted to law.  I hope that under the concept of the just war, we might avoid fighting at all and come to a peaceful resolution.  However…” He held up his hand in a warning, “I have no idea whether the factions want a peaceful resolution.  However, I would prefer to bring peace through negotiations than through force, and I would rather have a just Thrall ruling than to be a province of Stormwind… but will we be able to have justice?”

At times, the cultural divide among the races can be quite broad.  What one culture finds beautiful, another finds rather sparse.  Conversely the culture which sees beauty in sparseness can find another culture to be overly lavish.  I believe each culture becomes defensive of their arts because a criticism of it is a criticism of their culture.

At other times, it is the ambiguity of the Common tongue meeting the terms of another culture which leads to misunderstandings where no slight was intended…

Yes, I set Lady Winter up, but no slight of Azeroth culture was intended.

The performance in Ironforge was of the Lord Weber opera Der Freischütz, a story of dark magic and of soldiers, and the triumph of good over evil.  It was not one of Amaxe’s particularly favorite works, but as an ambassador, she was in attendance as a part of her role as ambassador, as it was a command performance for king Magni.

Kamo had unfortunately noticed her ambivalence of attending, and asked her why she was going.

“Get out of here while I’m changing!” Amaxe explained.

Once she had changed for the Opera, Kamo had crept back into the room and asked again why she was going.  He noticed with sadness that she was wearing a hanbok, which meant he would have to sleep on her shoulder instead of where it was comfortable.

“It’s a command performance,” she explained.  She was referring to when a noble patron sponsored the arts and had a performance in his presence.  It was considered an honor to attend and one did not beg off without a serious reason.

“Oh.” Kamo said, cocking his head which Amaxe had learned meant that he had no idea what she was talking about.  But he didn’t ask any more questions and Amaxe was relieved since she was pressed for time.

Unfortunately she should have clarified, as when she greeted the king at the opera house, Kamo asked him, “Why did you command Amaxe to attend?”

Amaxe was ready to sink into the floor, but fortunately King Magni had a sense of humor, and viewed it as the innocent question of a child, chuckling and scratching Kamo’s belly.

Most of the prelude to a command performance was spent in the areas of diplomacy.  Because Amaxe was famed for her work in Northrend, she was asked by many about the situation there.  it was part of Amaxe’s role as a diplomat to reply in a way which said “We are stalemated” without actually saying so.

It was true they were stalemated.  They held the south.  Arthas held Icecrown, and the center was more or less in a holding pattern with the vrykul and the magnataurs and the Blue Dragonflight wounded but dangerous.  “We are continuing to assess our options for the advancement of the cause” sounded better than “It’s a murekonran. (clusterfuck)” (which it was, if anything deserved the term)

Of course the entire prospect was made more difficult by the presence of Lady Pamela Winter, one of Lady Jaina’s sycophants.  It was plain that Lady Jaina had come off second best in the exchange at the Cathedral, and Lady Pamela had hoped to discredit Amaxe.

Pamela thought she had her chance at the intermission.  Amaxe had seemed less than interested in the story and the music during the first act, and Pamela thought she could bring it to the attention of the king.  While drinks were served, Lady Pamela approached her.

“Ambassador, it seemed the opera is not to your liking.  Do you not enjoy Opera then?”

Amaxe smiled.  “Yes, though I prefer Noh theater.”

Pamela smiled back.  This would be a good way to discredit her before the king if she twisted some words. “Well, then, if this is the case then why did you come?”

Kamo thought Amaxe’s smile looked almost sadistic, as she said “What do you mean why did I come?  I merely stated Noh plays are my favorite.”

Lord Helmer of Ironforge joined in.  “So don’t ye like any theater at all?” It was a subtle (for a dwarf) warning to Amaxe to clarify.

“No, let me explain. Noh theater is considered classic Draenei drama. Noh plays have been produced since as long as we lived on Draenor, and Noh actors are revered even today.”

“Why are you disdaining Draenei theater? Have you no pride in your culture?” asked Lady Pamela.  Perhaps some sort of social embarrassment would help discredit her.

“I did not say that. Noh theater started in Draenor…”

“I must confess my confusion,” Lord Helmer said. “it seems ye tell us the Draenei don’t have any theater whatsoever? “

“They have lots of theater, including Noh theater!”

“So they have lots of theater and they have no theater?” Lady Pamela said in a sweetly patronizing tone.

“Exactly!”

At this point, Anchorite Paulaui, visiting from Shattrath, had to turn away to hide his smile.  The ambassador had a way with her words and he predicted inside of two minutes Lady Pamela would be feeling foolish.

“No theater?”  Helmer asked

“Yes!”

“WHAT?!”

Amaxe smiled wickedly.  “Noh theater! N…O….H!”

Pamela thought she had Amaxe now.  “N-O-H?” She sighed and feigned disbelief, shaking her head at the misspelling of so simple a word.    It was truly a cultural gaffe to embarrass her.  “If I may,” she said in a condescending tone, “I would ask you a series of simple questions to clarify which I hope a philosopher as wise as yourself could answer yes or no.  Now, is there theater in Draenor?”

“Yes.”

“Good, and do you have a particular favorite type of Draenei theater?”

“Yes.”

“Well, good, now we’re getting somewhere in understanding each other.”  Pamela effected a show of great patience towards this uneducated shamanka.  “Now, will you tell me the name of your favorite form of Draenei theater?”

“Noh!”

Lady Pamela was taken aback.  “Why not?”  She was losing control of the conversation and could end up the one embarrassed unless she could figure out why the Draenei was refusing to answer.

“Why not what?” Amaxe was a pillar of calm and innocence (though Kamo suspected the latter was feigned).

“Why won’t you tell me your favorite type of Draenei theater?”  Pamela was getting frustrated and did not want to be the center of attention when she did not have control over the flow.  She enjoyed the catty crushing of her opponents verbally, but Amaxe was not giving her anything to grip onto.

“I just did.” Amaxe said, matter-of-fact

“You just did what, Ambassador?”  Pamela was reviewing the words to see what she missed.  Even the king seemed to be smiling slightly over the exchange.

“I just told you my favorite form of Draenei theater, Lady Winter.”

“You did?”  Pamela felt like she needed a drink

“I did,” Amaxe said with a slight bow.

Pamela struggled to regain some dignity from this debacle.  “Well, would you oblige me by telling me again?”

“Yes, NOH.”  Amaxe’s face was one of perfect innocence.  Pamela’s face was twitching. 

King Magni gave a low chuckle as a sense of understanding dawned on his face.  “Well played, well played lass.” he said to Amaxe, as the lights flickered warning it was time for the next act.

Despairing, Lady Winter walked up the stairs with Amaxe.  “I do hope you enjoy the next act better than the first act.” she said sweetly

Amaxe smiled “Yes, but just remember I like Noh theater better than I like Opera.”

“I thought you didn’t like Opera!” Pamela almost screamed.

“I never said that.  All I said was I would rather watch Noh theater than Opera.”

Pamela signaled for the servant to bring her a large drink.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As they watched the next act, Kamo whispered to Amaxe, “Um, ‘noh’ is the name of the play you like, right?”  His ears had been quick enough to tell the difference between Noh and no.

Amaxe was impressed.  She thought she was dealing with the equivalent of a five year old intellect, but he seemed to be smarter.  She rubbed his stomach as he flopped in her lap.

Most of the guests had filtered away, but Jaina remained staring at the fire, drink in her hand (untouched), pondering.  That the Ambassador was a great hero to the Alliance was to be certain.  She had been there at the Undercity, was highly acclaimed by many, and was deserving of her reputation as a philosopher, yet she was becoming dangerous to the peace of the Alliance.  She wondered how Amaxe might be stopped from influencing the powers that be.  The Horde-Alliance war had to be stopped.  She had sacrificed so much for peace, even betrayed her own father…

Do you think this because you think so highly of peace?  Or do you fear you betrayed your father for nothing?  The thought came unwelcome, unbidden and she pushed it away.  She was interested in saving lives here, indeed that was why she had acted to defend the orcs from her Father.  If only he had seen the truth… if only the Ambassador would see the truth…

That made it harder.  She would not seek to harm the ambassador as that would be contradictory to her desire for peace for all, but there needed to be a way to impeach her credibility.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lord Helmer Almgren shared a coach with Sir Harrison Lafon of Stormwind.  “What do you think of that?” he asked gruffly.  He hoped Lafon would reach the same conclusion. 

Lafon did, it seemed.  “Looks to me like we could use her on that mission to Thunder Bluff.  I don’t know if the Tauren will listen to her, but she seems to have the knowledge to speak to their elders.  That she is a Shamanka helps, though a druid would be better.”

“Aye…” Helmer slipped into dwarven dialect for a second.  “Druids don’t think that way though… some of them serve the Light,” Helmer was a Paladin and believed in the light strongly, “but so many are relativistic, they couldn’t reason themselves out of a burlap bag.”

Lafon nodded.  “Still, she is intelligent and she stands for her beliefs over compromise.  What she does she does because she believes it to be right.  People respect that in her.  It was why lady Jaina had nothing to say in the end — the Ambassador didn’t argue to push a view, but to promote a search for truth. 

Baronet Kósa Aladár, aide to Helmer spoke up: “What if her commitment to the truth leads her to disagree with our position?”

Helmer shook his head.  “I don’t see we are asking her to do anything wrong here.  The Tauren live by a code which is foreign to the other Horde races.   If i understand the Explorer’s League right, the Tauren feel a sense of duty to the orcs for aid given.  Light knows though that the support of evil is cooperation with it.  I just wonder if helping the Tauren see it will change their perspective…”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As they stopped at the house of Fr. Glainead, he said “Before you take your leave, I have something for you.”  He was worried about her at times.  He had fought alongside her in many battles in Outland and many in Northrend.  When she entered a battle, it seemed the outcome to her personally did not mater at all.  Only that her friends or charges were kept safe.  It seemed almost a nihilism or despair at times.

He knew Amaxe was twice her age, and knew that when the life of the loved one of one given longevity ended, it was painful indeed.  He had counseled many on this and knew it was inevitable for him and Shylah.

The Draenei though… did time dull all wounds, or did it remain fresh inside her?  Amaxe had shown emotion with her friends, but when one got to close to her hurt, she closed up all openings.  When they had ridden away, Amaxe had been silent, almost sullen.  Anchorite Haoa of Exodar had once explained it as the Draenei so desu ka expression.

The Draenei have two modes — uchi and soto.  To those who are uchi, or part of the house, they can show any type of emotion they think suitable.  To the soto or outside, it is considered none of their damned business, and so they close up, wipe emotion from their face, shrug and say “so desu ka”  or “is that so?”

Glainead had asked: So how does one go from uchi to soto with the Draenei?  Haoa had replied You can’t:  You are never fully uchi.  You may be mostly uchi, but when there is something they are unwilling to open to others, you become soto.

It had not made sense at first, but knowing Amaxe, he had learned that when she went soto, it was better to back off and not press questions.  It calmed her, and he thought it expanded uchi.

Of course he also felt that she was needing a distraction.  When one became too focused on the internal, it was easy to get into some unhealthy practices.  He suspected she drank too much for example.  She needed an external source of focus.

He went into the house and came out with a small satchel.  “Miratxu found this one in her wanderings in Northrend.  Since you were noted for caring for strays who came your way…”

“Father,” Amaxe interrupted him.  “I cannot care for an orphan child at this time.  With my duties it would be irresponsible…”

Glainead nodded.  “I understand you cannot care for a child of course”  He wouldn’t think that prudent right now anyway.  This was not the same as it was with Miratxu who needed to interact with innocence.  A child needed enthusiastic love, and Amaxe was so somber.  it wasn’t that Amaxe lacked a maternal side… he remembered her children in Masses said.  Rather, she needed to interact with a hardheaded cheerfulness which could not be cowed and would not be ignored.  She needed to be stretched by someone particularly obtuse.

Plus he wanted the little trouble making fleabag out of his house.

He opened the satchel gently, and Amaxe saw a small ball of white fur curled up inside.  “Amaxe, this is Kamo.  Miratxu found him in the Dragonblight.  Amaxe, this is Kamo.”

Amaxe wondered why Glainead was introducing them both ways.  Then a little head and neck emerged from the ball of fur and looked at her with black beady eyes.

“Hiya!” the ermine like creature said cheerfully.

“Hello” Amaxe said shooting Glainead a look which said What are you trying to pull here?

Glainead pointedly ignored the look.  “Kamo, You will be staying with Amaxe now.  Be good and do what she says, OK?”

“Sure, the creature said cheerfully, jumping from the bag onto her shoulder.  “Where do I go?’ he asked Amaxe, looking around.  Then fixing his eyes, he dove inside her dress down her cleavage.

And so it begins Glainead thought, averting his eyes, both out of respect for Amaxe’s modesty and to avoid the baleful glow in Amaxe’s eyes.

Amaxe gave a strangled squawk.  “Wrong!” she said, fishing him out.  “What do you think you’re doing there?”

“It’s warm and soft!” Kamo said, cocking his head to one side, clueless anyone should be bothered.

“It’s not appropriate.”

A blank expression from Kamo.

Amaxe sighed.  “You’re a boy, I’m a girl.  It’s not appropriate for boys to go to places only girls have.” she said through gritted teeth.  She knew he was an animal, but still he was sentient and that made it embarrassing.

Kamo gave her another blank expression.  “Is that why Mister Glain said to keep out of the girl’s purses?” he asked

Amaxe, with a strangled sound in her throat, turned to Glainead to plead off, but he was already going inside. 

“If you’ll excuse me, it’s time for Vespers,” he said bowing and shutting the door.  He hoped Kamo would help her open her soto.  He was friendly and inquisitive, and as pesky as he was he was hard to dislike.

Amaxe stared at the door for a bit.  Kamo leapt on her shoulder again and stared as well, paw over his brow, looking intently for something. 

“Something special about this door?” he asked scratching his head with his paw.

Sighing, Amaxe got on her mount, praying to the Light… more specifically asking Why me?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Outlands: Zangarmarsh

Haukena sighed as she trudged through the swamp of what had once been a land of a monastery… Teledor it had been called.  she was glad it still existed, though it was sad to see how it had been changed from a place of solitude to a miniature city.  One could still see the monk cells built into the stalk of the mushroom.  They were abandoned though.

She was slowly growing to realize the life of solitude was not what was intended for her, and slowly she was forming a circle of acquaintances: There was Cutthroat Bill, the dwarf, and there was Atlixcatzin, the druid with whom she worked at times.  Yet they were moving on, and she was still here.  Bill had once said There are two kinds of people… those going somewhere and those going nowhere.  They were going somewhere.  She… was not.

She swore to herself as she reached the road.  She had once been a Paladin of the light.  Now she was an unholy monster, an entrapped soul in her body which should have died instead of being unnaturally preserved, and then brought out to the world of evil and depravity of the Death Knight.

At times she wished she could tear her mind out of her skull so as not to have to remember… the brutality, the murders she had committed under the service of Arthas… controlling ghouls reanimated from the bodies of men she had slain.

She should have died, damn it all.  She should have died and been with her family in the light, instead of being doomed to walk the world alone.

It had been some time since she had talked to that Orc, Nergis.  She wondered if the creature had even started to look for this Amaxe or whether she had immediately forgotten and gone off to some bar to have a laugh over her plight.

She had done some of her own investigations of course in Shattrath.  There was an Amaxe known there, who had apparently been a woman of some influence fighting the legions, though she had not been seen in Draenor for some time.  The most recent reports were from the Sporregar, who had come to the Alliance on account of her aid.

Naturally she had missed meeting this Amaxe person, and the description the fungus people made were too vague to know if this Amaxe was the same as her own mother.  So she repressed all hope, acting on the impression her mother was dead like the rest until proven otherwise.

Of course, even if somehow this woman was her mother, what would she think to see her daughter a monstrous death Knight.  She was repulsed to look in a mirror herself, to see the whiteness of her skin, and hair… the unnatural glow to her eyes.  Her mother had been firm about doing good and avoiding evil.  What would she say now?  Perhaps that she should have died than to become this?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ironforge: Hall of Explorers

Even though she needed a drink badly, and had an unwelcome guest on her shoulder, Amaxe had another speaking engagement.  Of course Kamo presented a problem meeting with the Dwarven clergy.  Amaxe wondered how to speak with Kamo hopping around sniffing her ears and hair.

“Can’t you look like some sort of stole?” she muttered to herself

“Sure!” said Kamo (who had very good hearing).  He flopped down on her shoulder, with his face in an expression of having died in agony.

“Knock it off!” she said, thumping him in the head with his thumb.  “You certainly have acute hearing.”

Kamo cocked his head.  “yah,” he said in what appeared to be his imitation of what he thought was an accent, “I have a-cute hearing, and my eyes, they are a-cute too…”

Amaxe really needed a drink.  Was he an idiot, or was he having her on?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The meeting was held in the Explorer’s Hall, but it was an open forum among the intellectuals for discussing topics.  Humans, elves, and Draenei in Ironforge could be found there in addition to the dwarves and gnomes who lived there

Lady Amaxe had been invited to speak on the subject of Death Knights, and whether they were intrinsically evil or not.  The previous speakers, Anchorite Sililo who claimed no and Sir Edmund Bailey who claimed yes had not been able to come to a point where there was any common ground of reference between them.

Amaxe spoke briefly.

“The issue hinges on the word intrinsic, which means of its very existence.  It seems to me there are two possible ways we could look at this: First, Contrasting those who voluntarily accepted the yoke of Arthas, and those who had it forced on them.  The first group of course have done evil and gained their power as a means to an evil end.  The second have been made a means to an end and did not seek to be what they are.  In this view, the existence of the first as the Death Knight is to be condemned, and a repudiation of what they have chosen is required.  In contrast, the second group have been forced to become servants of Arthas, and their culpability is proportional to the level they consent to the evil they do.

“The second way to consider this is through the acts of what they do.  Certain acts must be condemned as contrary to the Light.  The reanimating of corpses to do one’s bidding.  The employing of diseases and curses.  Similar to the warlock trafficking with demons, this is to be rejected as contrary to the Light.  In this case, the culpability of the Death Knight is relational to their knowledge of good and evil.  One who is invincibly ignorant needs to be taught, but cannot be assumed to know they are doing evil.  However, one who is aware of the obligations of the Light is vincibly ignorant and cannot use ignorance as a defense.

“As I understand it, some of the unwilling actually were suspended in their moment of death with their lives prolonged, in a corruption of raising.  As they live and are not undead, it would be wrong to expect them to seek death — this would go against the natural right to life.  However, they need to consider this option: If the powers Arthas gave them are to be considered evil, then it follows that if they would live among us, they would have to accept that what the light holds as evil they may not choose to follow.”

There was a bit of murmuring here.  The use of the warlock, the shadow priest, the death knight was debated here, with some saying that they were providing their services to the Alliance.  Others feared using the tools of the Shadow would corrupt them.  the Ambassador argued that the use of something intrinsically evil was never to be tolerated… not because she feared it would magically make one evil, but because the use of expedient means to an end could lead to abandoning virtue in the name of expedience.

At least Kamo was well behaved through the event.  He had slept through most of it, but had sit patiently for the rest (though he was twitching now, feeling restless).  When she moved to step down, he leapt onto her shoulder nuzzling against her neck.  Instinctually, her maternal side kicked in, and she gently caressed his head.  He responded by rubbing his head against her hand.  Amaxe then moved her hand downward, blocking him from hiding inside her dress.  “What part of No, don’t you understand?” she hissed.

“Um, the part of why you say it?”

Amaxe resolved to start wearing an elven hanbok or dangui to formal occasions to remove any more “incidents.”

Explorer Muninn Magellas came by to greet Amaxe.  He looked at Kamo on her shoulder.  Many of the heroes of the Alliance had pets so this was not so unusual.  However, taking a closer look at the creature, he lifted his goggles.

“Where did ye find this, ambassador?”

“A druid of my guild discovered him in Northrend… the Grizzly Hills I think.  Why do you ask?”

“It looks to me like you have yourself a kind of wolvar… ‘cept the color is kind of rare.  There are some whites among them, but not a pure white like this one.”  Having heard Kamo speak, he looked at him.  “So, wolvar, where do ye come from?”

Kamo bristled.  “I have a name!  It’s Kamo.”

With a smile, Muninn removed his hat.  “Delighted.”

“Dilapidated” Kamo said, mimicing the gesture.

“Do ye remember your parents… Kamo?”

Kamo actually seemed to tremble on her shoulder,  Imperceptible to Munnin, but Amaxe could feel it.  “No, never met them.” He seemed to be forcing a false cheeriness.

Amaxe cleared her throat.  “Perhaps this is not the time?”  She could see that Kamo was bothered, and while she wanted to help him, she knew it would have to be when he was ready.

Glainead could sense Amaxe was greatly annoyed.  She and Lady Proudmoore had always been cool to each other over the issue of the orcs.  Such a gathering could only have an appeal from Proudmoore to change the relationship with the orcs.

He was surprised to see Amaxe was dressed for the occasion instead of in her usual armor.  He had suspected that she wore it always as a sort of barrier from the world.  Yet here she was dressed in such a fashion where one could see that her allusions to having been married once did not seem like so strange a concept.

The fireworks did not begin until after the main course.  Drinks were served, and the topics were discussed.  The topic on everyone’s mind was the war of course.  Discussion went between varied subjects: Reinforcements, the line of advance, economics.  Finally lady Proudmoore got about to her point:

“It seems to me that hostility to the Horde at this time is something we should reconsider.”  There was some chatter to that, though most of the eyes went to Amaxe — who took a drink to hide her sour expression.

“You disagree, Ambassador?”  It was the voice of Lord Helmer Almgren of the senate of Ironforge.  He was hardly a sycophant for Lady Proudmoore, and seemed to be more interested in a reason to question the ruler of Theramore.

Amaxe smiled politely.  “I do not think it so much a matter of re-evaluating our hostility with the Horde which is a barrier for peace as much as it is their hostility to us.”

Lady Proudmoore gave a forced smile, wondering how many rhetorical tricks the draenei would employ.  “The Horde wishes a tabula rasa (blank slate) with us.  Why should we not give it to them with this war on?”

Amaxe’s eyes were cold behind her own smile.  “Before the slate can be started anew, it needs be cleaned.  I have heard of those who are among the orcs who believe the old days of the bloodlust were their days of glory.  These voices are not silenced by the powers that be.  Is it because they cannot or will not?  Neither solution I would gamble with the lives of the innocent in Azeroth.  I’ve seen the price of failure on that wager.”

“Are you certain that your belief is not related to a hostility from days long past?”

“Lady, I must protest.”  This was Lord Ailean Stormcrow of Auberdine.  “As one who has not experienced centuries, you seem to think that what was before your time was a time of irrelevance.  Some races who live long have long memories of what had happened to them.  The days of the old Horde might be a tale from your childhood, but to others, it was an event not long ago.

“I meant no offense to the Ambassador, Lord Ailean,” Jaina said.  I merely meant the orcs of the Burning Legion are not the orcs of Thrall.”

Amaxe smiled.  “Ah, do you mean that they are a different species than the orcs of Draenor then?  Or do you mean that the orcs who drank the fel blood are different now then they were before they drank it?”

“I mean that Thrall is a leader who cares for his people and would prefer peace rather than war.”  Damn that sokratyc ignorance the Draenei used!

Amaxe nodded.  “So what is a good ruler?  Perhaps our misunderstanding can be made clear this way.”

“A good ruler is a person who cares for his people.”

“I see, but I do not see.” Amaxe said.  “Does a good ruler who cares for his subjects but does not do so competently make a good ruler?  Does a ruler who cares for his people, but not the people of others makes a good ruler?”

There were a chorus of hmms and ahhs from the gathered nobles.  Jaina’s poise allowed her to keep composure.  “Of course these things matter.  What would you say made a good ruler?”

Amaxe swirled her glass absently and an acolyte of the house went to refill it.  “I would say simply that a good ruler is simply a ruler who is good — that is to say a ruler who makes laws with justice for all.”

“So then Ambassador, what is a good law?  Your words sound like a tautology.”

Amaxe said, “put precisely, a law is nothing else than a dictate of reason in the ruler by whom his subjects are governed. Now the virtue of any subordinate thing consists in its being well subordinated to that by which it is regulated: thus we see that the virtue of the irascible and concupiscible faculties consists in their being obedient to reason; and accordingly the virtue of every subject consists in his being well subjected to his ruler, as the Philosopher, Haristotal says. But every law aims at being obeyed by those who are subject to it.

“Consequently it is evident that the proper effect of law is to lead its subjects to their proper virtue: and since virtue is "that which makes its subject good," it follows that the proper effect of law is to make those to whom it is given, good, either simply or in some particular respect. For if the intention of the lawgiver is fixed on true good, which is the common good regulated according to Divine justice, it follows that the effect of the law is to make men good simply. If, however, the intention of the lawgiver is fixed on that which is not simply good, but useful or pleasurable to himself, or in opposition to Divine justice; then the law does not make men good simply, but in respect to that particular government.

“In this respect, I would argue that Thrall is not a ruler who is good simply, but could only be considered good in respect to the partisan desires of the Horde.  Therefore Thrall is not a good ruler, but only a ruler who serves the interests of the Horde.”

“On what basis?”  This was Lady Pamela Winter, who was known for promoting pacifism.  “What sort of facts do you base this on instead of imposing your own judgments?”

“I would base this on the actions of the factions within the Horde and the rulership by their leaders.  Recently, our King took part in preventing a coup attempt in old Lordaeron brought on by the faction called Apothecary.  So long as this group was willing to meet the ends of the Thrall, they were tolerated.  It was when they decided they had nothing more to gain from Thrall and Sylvanis that they became treasonous.  Again, the ruler of the Horde is not simply good, but merely good from the sole perspective of what benefits the Horde.”

Lady Pamela shook her head.  “Perhaps we are judging the Horde from our own perspective instead of from an objective view of morality.  Would we have behaved the same had we been in the same situation?”

Amaxe looked at her.  “You reject the concept of Free Will and Natural Law?  Your answers lie there.  We cannot say that we would have done better without being in that situation, but we can indeed say that whether we would have done good or evil in that situation, there was identifiable good and evil to choose between.  A group who lives under the slogan ‘Death to the living’ cannot be said to be good.  Indeed, if life is considered to be a good, then a group which seeks to deprive others of it simply because they possess it would be called evil.”

Jaina felt sorrow that such a great mind was opposed to her.  She wondered what sort of arguments she could have made in favor of the idea she had desired to come to fruition — the sentient races of Azeroth living together in harmony.  “Certainly the Horde holds to some barbaric things.  They welcome the gladiatorial combats sadly.  I admit that while such an Arena could not be found in Alliance lands, they are found in Horde lands, Goblin lands and the neutral lands of Azeroth.  However, I feel that their society could change when influenced, and if the Alliance would change their views, the Horde would be able to step off of their defensive  posture and work for peace.”

Amaxe was growing frustrated.  Yes she was an ambassador, but she was not interested in being the spokesman for the Alliance view.  It was only her desire for the truth that kept her from walking out.

“Again, I see but do not see.  If the Alliance would change the Horde would change seems to be your thesis.  However, objective good is something the Horde could move towards even if the Alliance was as wicked as the Burning Legion — which I do not grant.  if the Light is the ultimate good and the Natural law points the way to the good of the Light, then it follows that a society or an individual who seeks goodness will work gradually away from evil towards behavior closer to the Light.

“Put another way, if i feared you, would I be justified in behaving in an evil way towards you?”

“No, of course not.  Justice requires the same treatment for all.”

“Therefore, the Horde is not justified in acting in an evil way just because they fear the Alliance.  Your argument is more of an appeal to guilt.  Because there are some who hate the Horde because they are Horde we need to reject the defensive actions we take in response. However, the fact that some are indeed racist does not mean that the need to defend oneself is false.  Two thousand years ago, one of our poets wrote:

What if they gave a war and nobody came?
Why then the war will come to you!
He who stays home when the fight begins
And lets another fight for his cause
Should take care:
He who does not take part
In the battle will share in the defeat.
Even avoiding battle will not avoid
Battle, since not to fight for your own cause really means
Fighting in behalf of your enemy’s cause.

There was silence in the room.  Amaxe continued.

“I do not say the Orcs are intrinsically evil to be sure.  However, by their fruits we will know them.  Barring a change of heart which is evidenced by deeds, I would want to remain ready to defend myself in case the wrong faction comes out on top.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Icecrown: The Horde Airship

It was slow and ponderous, but the Goblin Airship was one of the best ways to get from the Argent Tournament to the Argent Tower.  Their mounts could do it, but it meant resting along the way.  The airship could fly without resting.  The problem was it meant a lot of listening to the inane prattle of the other Horde on the ship who had no idea of the idea of reason.  “That was the past,” was their rebuttal to the injustice they had done… as if a calendar was a valid way of evaluating an argument.

Nergis did notice some who seemed to be less than interested with the jingoism of the Horde.  The slogans of victory were proclaimed by the vessel commander.  “This way to glory!”  It was printed all over.  Someone had taken the slogan in the privy and wrote around it:

THOSE AT THE TOP SAY:
This way to glory.
Those down below say:
This way to the grave.

On the door inside, another had written:

IT IS NIGHT
The mated couples
Lie in their beds.  The young women
Will bear orphans.

She smiled grimly.  This fucking war with the Alliance was idiocy, and would not have happened if not for the “Bloodlust lovers.”  What was this “honor and glory” they were working for?  Picking up a piece of charcoal, she scratched her own entry.  Below the slogan “Our Siege vehicles and Gyrocopters will Destroy the enemy,” she wrote:

GENERAL, YOUR SIEGE WEAPON IS A POWERFUL VEHICLE
It smashes down forests and crushes a hundred men.
But it has one defect:
It needs a driver.

General, your gyrocopter is powerful.
It flies faster than a storm and carries more than an elekk.
But it has one defect:
It needs a pilot.

General, an orc is very useful.
He can fly and he can kill.
But he has one defect:
He can think.

She sighed as she left the foul smelling room (why was it places which were non Horde had places where one didn’t want to burn their clothing after relieving themselves?)  At least there was some talk that Major Latensi would be transferred to a new frontier.  But she was no closer to finding Sister Amaxe.  She was no longer certain she was passing on the message of a fraud, and she wondered if Sister was able to find part of her family, would she be able to heal part of herself?

Atlixcatzin had another view of course.  There was a problem.  Identify the cause and eliminate it.  The object in question then works.  Atlix had some good ideas on how to eliminate the problem.  He had been working on Saronite based explosives.  A well placed one (he didn’t hold with the Goblin idea of “pile ‘em up until it knocks over what you want.”) could destroy a house.  A bomb with a propellant inside, could be made to look and move like a rabbit — and could kill the person who got too close.  He didn’t get how Amaxe could be concerned about whether a choice of action could be wrong when it came to defending others she cared about.

They lunched at the house of Father Glainead, another Night Elf and one who had embraced the Light as a priest.  He was also the chaplain for their guild, Lumen Sanctum, though Atlix had first met him when he presided over the memorial service for Convoy in Darnassus before Lumen Sanctum was established. 

That had been an unpleasant experience for Atlix.  His family was one of the old druidic families (Not all druids were dyed in the wool pagans as his family was.  There was another druid in the guild, Miratxu, who also followed the light).  They viewed “The Light” as a betrayal of the spirits of nature.  To them, Elune was not a saint, but a goddess, and the talk that Elune had really been a person who had been trained in the Light was a sacrilege to the old ways.  They had refused to attend the service, claiming Convoy had died to them when she began to follow the Light.

A Pox on Both Your Houses was Atlix’ view on the subject.  Whether the Light, the Old Ways of his druid family, the tribal gods of the Horde, he found religion to be a waste (even though it irked him not to be able to answer Amaxe’s questions earlier).  His sister had died out of a motivation to this Light.  His parents believed it to be opposed.

As they dined (Father Glainead was an excellent cook) the topics ranged from the news of the world to the philosophical.  Atlix finally asked a question he thought would stump them.  It had stumped his parents.

“There was a work among the elves dating back before the first encounter with the dwarves and men, called Euthypro.  The work is a dialogue between a Tauren druid and an Elven philosopher.  The question is of morality: Is something loved by the gods because it is good, or is it good because it is loved by the gods?  Among the old Druids, there is no consensus on this.  Do the Draenei have an answer to this question as applied to the light?”

It was a question intended to stump.  If the Light loved something because it was good, then it indicated there was something above the Light.  However, if things were good because the Light decreed it, it made the Light arbitrary.  Among the ancient druids, there was no answer: What one god loved, another hated, so there was no sense of absolute truth and morality.

Amaxe smiled patiently, giving the impression that this question was hardly new to her.  “The form of the dilemma.  Is something above the Light?  Or could the Light arbitrarily decide to make what we call evil ‘good.’”

Atlix was surprised as to how quickly she had dissected to the heart of the matter.  He had a sense of how long a millennium must be in studying such things.  Still, he believed in science and rational thought.  So to hold to some mystical belief indicated that somewhere along that long lifespan Amaxe had taken a wrong turn.  “So how do you answer this?”

Amaxe smiled.  “The short answer is that this is no ‘either-or’ situation.  The Light is goodness, and the moral decrees of the Light reflects that goodness.  In decreeing what we are and are not to do reflects the good of the nature of the Light.  The Light could not decree something evil to be good without denying His own nature.”

Seeing that was a bit too philosophical for his guest, Fr. Glainead elaborated.  “As I understand it, you are an engineer.  Can you envision a device where its ideal state is to be broken instead of working?  Or envision a situation where sickness is good and health is something to be avoided?”

Atlix shook his head.  Such a concept was asinine.  Things were designed to work in a certain way, and if they failed to work in such a way, they were defective or needed repairing.  He said so bluntly.

Amaxe nodded.  “You are on the right path here.  Evil is not an active force.  It is a defect of the good.  So a Fel-Orc warlord is not evil on account of an evil force compelling him with the same authority as the force of Light.  Rather because of a defect, the good which is within him is employed in a wrongful way.  The bravery of a soldier is good, but lacking the good of compassion, the bravery of the soldier can hold a defect which makes them use their bravery for evil purposes.

“Because The Light is infinite in being, he also is infinitely good- in him there can be no lack. The Light creates to express and share something of his incomprehensible perfection. While in Light there can be no distinction between what he is and what he ought to be, each creature has a role in the order of things which it ought to fulfill. Its fulfillment and fullness of being will be that share in the expression of the divine goodness which The Light intended for it in creating it. Badness is privation of something of the fullness to which a creature is called. But what, positively, is this fullness’? Clearly, it is not the boundless perfection of the Light himself, for creatures are not bad merely by being limited as The Light meant them to be.

“The fullness of being, the goodness of each creature, is that fullness of which it is capable, insofar as it is a creature of a certain sort, with certain capacities and opportunities to be and be more. A turtle is not defective inasmuch as it lacks the ability to run like a gazelle, nor is an ape defective because it lacks a sense of justice. Goodness is the fullness appropriate to each entity. Badness is not simply lack, it is privation-lack of what ought to be.”

That was an awful lot of thought to take in, but he had to admit that though he still believed the Light to be irrational, their reasons for holding it were logical.

He snorted to himself realizing how unreasonable his own statement was about reason and irrationality was.  If they had rational reasons for holding their belief, then logically it was “reasonable.”  He didn’t like the thought.  For him, reason was the physical realm.  It was why he liked engineering.  Things worked or they didn’t.  If they didn’t work, more study could be done to ensure it would work.  Things that were mysterious when he was working with copper and bronze contraptions came to light with more study.  Yet no amount of study would show him the Light to be proven true.

Logically either he erred on truth always being provable or more study was needed to learn the truth of the Light.  The reasonable action would be to continue to observe and find out what worked and did not work in this belief of the light.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Eastern Plaguelands: Acherus

“So what is the meaning of this complaint Stormwind brings forward?”  Mograine spoke quietly, but his tone indicated he was not pleased.  “Did someone commit an act in the name of the Ebon Blade which will leave us in a tenuous position?”

Positions were always tenuous.  Especially in Icecrown, where the war had stalemated.  With vykrul to the west and scourge to the south, their principle stronghold was in danger of being overrun.  If the Alliance withdrew their support, even though the Horde was closer to them philosophically, they would not have the resources to withstand a Scourge attack.  Mograine would not have that stand.  They had been betrayed by Arthas who had used them for cannon fodder, and they would have their revenge.

Csató walked warily here.  If he lied, Mograine would find out.  Yet if he told too much of the truth, their plan would be found out.  Mograine might be living for revenge, but Csató was thinking to the future.

“Sir, as far as I understand it, some Death Knights were offended by the actions of the traitor and took it upon themselves to rid us of her minion—”

“The traitor?” Mograine rumbled.  “Listen here boy.  The Ambassador Amaxe has gotten some stupid ideas in her head to be sure, but remember we have a base in Icecrown largely because of her actions and those of her guild.  She’s no good to us dead and in fact may be a liability.  But if we can convince her of the errors of her ways… she would be a valuable asset to us again.”

“Of course sir,” Csató lied.  Mograine did not know of their private experiments against the Scarlet Crusade of course, and Csató had no intention to enlighten him.  It was only because of that damned Yazîcîzâde that the plan was in jeopardy to begin with.  So long as the Ambassador could bring down the curtain on those plans he had no intention of leaving her free to speak.  “She does lack the devotion to the cause the Death Knights hold of course… she has lacked the conditioning we hold.  If she had it, there is no doubt she would be an asset again.”

This was shorthand for If we control her mind, she could be an asset to you. 

“Oh yes,” Mograine replied sarcastically.  “Because mentally compelling the Ambassador to the Alliance would be less offensive to the King of Stormwind than killing one of her minions.”

“It all depends on how discreet one is.  The ends are what we consider.  The means are of no importance compared to those ends.”

Mograine’s eyes smoldered as he pondered this.  He lived for revenge against Arthas.  Losing the Alliance meant losing that chance.  Gaining back the Ambassador meant improving that chance. It was a gamble for him.  To advance or to stand pat was the question.

“We will not risk our plans,” he said finally.  “However, if you can come up with a plan I can approve of, I will consider it.  However, I forbid you to act without my approval.”

“Of course, Sir.”  Csató bowed.  He meant none of it.  He might be forbidden to act, but his associates were not.  If Mograine approved the action, it meant one less act to be wary of.  If he forbade it, the action would go forward, but Csató would deny responsibility.  It was the reasonable action to take.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Stormwind: The Cathedral District

Renzik “the Shiv” observed the house where the priest, Fr. Glainead was housing the suspects.  He didn’t care what Shaw thought.  This woman was a pacifist against the war, probably using her disagreement with the Lady Proudmoore as a blind, and the night elf was suspicious as well.  A druid with a Tauren name had to have sympathies for the wrong side.

Shaw had warned him to take no action, so he would not.  He would watch them until they made a mistake, and he would expose them to the SI:7.  Regardless of the action taken, he doubted the Ambassador would have any more credibility to disrupt the war.  He cackled to himself.  He would remain undetected while he watched and learned.  It was the reasonable action to take.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Matron, that Goblin is scary” little Susan said pointing to the Goblin muttering and cackling in the bushes.

“Pay no mind dear… it’s just some pervert.”  The Matron sighed and ushered the children inside.  It was tragic to see such things in the Cathedral district.  Those leering goblins gave her the shivers.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The knock came on Fr. Glainead’s door.  It was a person in the livery of the Cathedral.  “Father, the bishop asks if you would care to dine at his home tonight.  Lady Proudmoore is in the city, and has asked to meet with the nobles.  Ambassador Amaxe of your guild is also given this invitation.”

Glainead had accepted for both of them.  Atlixcatzin took that as his cue to leave.  While he was embarrassed by his druidic irrationalism, some of their feral ways did rub off on him, and he feared a faux pas at such a banquet, clad in leather as he were.

Glainead saw him to the door, where an acolyte had retrieved Atlix’ horse from the stables near the inn.  Glainead expressed surprise that he was riding a horse instead of a cat as the other elves did.

“Cats make for a bad mount.  These may be strong enough to be ridden, but they are not designed to carry a rider, which makes for a less comfortable ride.  The Horse though…” Atlix’ expression was one of admiration, “… it’s a creature engineered for riding and carrying a person on its back.”

Glainead quirked his eyebrow.  “Indeed.  It must have been made by a good engineer.”

Atlix shook his head as he mounted up.  “I didn’t just walk into that one.  I ran head first.”  He headed out riding on the first leg of the journey which would take him to the Blasted lands and from there to the Dark Portal.

Glainead made a sign of blessing to his fading back.  “May the Light guide you…” he said softly.

Of course he realized that Atlix had a point about horses being easier mounts.  The Cathedral stableboys were terrified of the monster cat Amaxe rode…

Akenehi guided Lester up the plank to the ship, gaining a wide berth from the other passengers and crew.  After all, with a snarling and snapping creature on board, nobody wanted to risk whether or not he was “harmless” as this Draenei insisted — especially with a Draenei they weren’t sure was harmless either.  Hearing her saying “Oh yes, mommy wuvs her little Lester…” in a high pitched tone to a 500 pound crocolisk while rubbing her nose against its large toothsome snout did not fit many people’s view of what was safe and sane.

Once Wicked Lester was settled down, she sat on his back, scratching his head looking over the side as the crew prepared for departure.  It was good to be back on the road.  To stop counting columns of numbers and stacks of coins and go out and help protect her new homeland. 

Being a hunter was a natural thing for her… she had been a hunter and a veterinarian on Draenor.  She was more of a country girl.  Well, some of the city draenei would have called her a backwater hick, though that was not the case.  She had been to university (she had even attended class taught by Sensei Amaxe), and was indeed skilled with healing animals, as well as putting down the dangerous ones.

She had to shake her head with bemusement at the druids here who spoke of the balance of nature, which viewed the sentient person (here on Azeroth, they called it humanity, with it intended to refer to all sentience) as merely another animal.  “Humanity” was the pinnacle of creation.  Some animals competed with humanity, and needed to be regulated.  Others became dangerous and had to be destroyed.

Some sentients were that way as well.  Her parents, her village had been destroyed by vicious orcs, and as dangerous sentients, they had to be put down.  That was a transition though.  Going from hunting dangerous animals to dangerous persons.  To think of sentients as prey, yet to remember they were not animals.  Sensei Amaxe referred to it as “the dignity of the sentient person.”

Of course some prey could hunt the hunter.  She wondered if there were any out there, stalking her.  She was no longer Sensei’s banker, but that did not mean the ones who attacked would give up.  She looked at the weapon that incorrigible Atlixcatzin had given her.  She had to admit it was a fine weapon.  Made of Mithril, it was light and strong, and far more lethal.  She looked at the inscription left on it:

Na eiste aspsalēs — A.

She wondered what it meant, but her musings were cut short by Lester’s snorting and bucking.  “Oh, is mommy’s widdle baby hungry?” she asked, dropping him a chunk of meat.

Lester snapped it up rapidly, though it wasn’t what disturbed him.  He had caught a dangerous scent.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Menasha watched from the inn as the boat pulled away.  She had not gotten there in time to kill that Draenei, but she intended to.  She had not failed until she gave up, and she had no intention of giving up.  She had no intention of being made into a ghoul at the service of another Death Knight… and she was certain that this would be her fate if she failed to complete her assignment.

The boat would have been a poor place for a murder however, and she was certain that she would track her down.  Dustwallow was an empty place, with marshes and creatures to ensure the body was never found.

Stormwind: Whitechapel

The squalor was appalling to Atlix as they made their way to Old Town (Trias had not wanted to spend any more time than necessary in their presence: “I’m a cheese maker, not a spy” he had said).  He noticed Ama’ seemed to be grimly angry about what she saw.  Beggars, laborers searching for work, women of easy virtue.

The last seemed to really anger her.  There was a “young” (in the sense that any draenei could be considered young) woman in tattered clothing calling out to the men walking by.  She accosted a priest, asking if he wanted to try giving up celibacy (the young priest, startled, sought to escape her hands), and suddenly Amaxe strode forward.  Spinning the woman around, Amaxe struck her across the face with her mailed glove.  Stunned, the prostitute fell to the ground.

“How low will you sink to seek to seduce a priest of the Light?  Have you no shame? “

The prostitute looked shocked by the violent confrontation, not only because of the physical attack, but because of who was responsible.  Most of them had heard of the Ambassador, dressed in the armor of a Shaman of the Light, wearing the tabard of the Argent Dawn, famed across the Alliance for her works of justice and mercy.

“What were you before?” Amaxe demanded.

Atlix found the question a non sequitur.  This was a district of poverty.  Most people of such a place would not have a past except for the slums which bred them.  This was the case of Elwynn, Kharanos and even the Elven lands.  What did it matter?  And what was this emphasis on before?

The Prostitute did seem to be shaken by the question.  “I— I was a tailor once… before… A dressmaker.”

Again that emphasis on “before”

“A tailor?  It seems like a respectable profession?  Why are you not one now instead of a baita?”

Atlix did not know the word, but judging by the way the woman looked stunned, it was clearly not flattering

“There are hundreds of tailors here.  I could find no work.  I had to eat…”

Amaxe spotted a younger draenei in the crowd gathering.  Judging by his shaven head and his livery he appeared to be a seminarian.  “You there.  Does not the Cathedral need help in preparing bandages for the wounded in Northrend?  Do they not provide food and wages?”

Bensonmum was a bit taken aback by his being singled out by someone so famous among the Draenei.  “Yes, ambassador, we are always in need of those who can weave cloth for us.”  It was true indeed.  The bandages were in short supply with the war on.

“Then get her off the streets and doing something that does not degrade her.”  Amaxe’s tone was not one which suggested the woman had an option in the matter.

Old City

Matthias Shaw had dealt with both of them before.  SI:7 was much shorter handed than people would believe, and mercenaries were welcome to help carry out missions where they had no staff.  The Defias were always a threat, though this was diminishing now that the king was back in power.

Amaxe spoke bluntly.  “Trias told me that Death Knights were involved.”

Shaw nodded.  “So it seems.  The bodies in the house were burned… I think it was a fire set to cover the identities of the slain.  The bodies you left near the tram were identified however.  If the attacks were related, logically it would indicate a same source.  Your statements about the Ebon Blade have led to some protests being made about an ambassador seeking to disrupt the relations between us and them.  Perhaps you should tone them down.”

Atlix cleared his throat.  He had no standing in the courts as Ama’ did, but he could recognize a logical problem.  “Whether or not the Ambassador’s politics are popular, certainly an attack indicates a problem which is not to be tolerated.”

“We’re not tolerating it.”  Shaw’s tone was contemptuous.  “We intend to be discreet though, as there is a war on.  We will enter a protest, and we will leave it to the Ebon Blade to police their own.”

Amaxe smiled grimly.  “Of course if they do not, it will be a de facto toleration of what happened.  We have just had an attempted murder of one of my people in Stormwind, and a banker.  You realize that if you fail to act, you are painting a large target on my back, and open the door to precedent for others to do the same.  Trias told me that you wanted to stop me from carrying out a ‘vendetta’ against those who did this.  Reason indicates that if you fear that I would take the law into my own hands, you would preempt it by enforcing the law.”

Shaw sighed.  “I’m not interested in discussing philosophy with you.” he said.  By which he meant, I don’t have an answer for you.  But your questions are inconvenient for me.  “I leave that for the King.  I merely wanted to speak with you over what we had discovered, and indicate the danger which exists for you and your friends if you continue on this course.”

Amaxe’s eyes narrowed.  “Are you suggesting I look the other way?  That I be silent over an evil which is being carried out by members of the Ebon Blade?”

“Those are members of the Scarlet Crusade.  Who cares about what happens to them, when they are nothing more than a stab in the back against our war?”

“The ends justify the means then?”

“Yes, dammit!”

“There was another who believed that, when he went to fight the Scourge.  I believe his name was Prince Arthas.  Where is he now?  We know his means.  What are the ends he attained?”

Shaw couldn’t meet her face.  “You’ll have to talk to the king about that.  For my part, there is a war on, and it’s my job to help win it.  If the idea of truth stands in the way, then let it be set aside for now.”

“So said Sylvanis.”  She rose.  “Come Atlixcatzin.  I fear we are wasting our time here.”

As they left, Renzik “The Shiv” emerged from his observation place.  “She’s dangerous.  If enough people listen to her, they might be influenced to oppose this war against the Scourge.”

Shaw hesitated.  “No, I think she supports the war, but questions our methods we use to win it.”

“Pah!  I suppose she thinks we should be riding about on horses with lances and speaking about honor or some vomit like that?”

“No… she’s pretty pragmatic.  The Alliance Vanguard have nothing but praise for her actions up there.  She gets things done.  What she does is reject certain ways and means.  I have to admit, some of those Ebon Blades give me the creeps.  You wonder if some of them just broke from the Lich king because he was using them as cannon fodder rather than because of any moral qualms.”

“I think she’s a traitor, like that Lady Proudmoore.”

“I don’t think she’s like Proudmoore.  She has no love for the orcs.”

Stormwind Castle

“Ambassador, it is good to see you are safe.”  King Varian was sincere about that.  Amaxe had been at his side during the storming of Undercity, was renown through the Alliance for the heroic deeds she had done.  “Please accept my regrets that some people of Stormwind were involved.”

“Thank you, your majesty.  I think it is a dangerous situation in two ways.  First that the Death Knights seem to have a free hand here.  Secondly that they were able to exploit a racial hostility present among some factions of Stormwind.”

King Varian nodded.  “As for the first, I want to ensure it does not happen again.  The trick is how we can do it without risking fracturing the Alliance against the Scourge.  As for the second… it is a shame against Stormwind.  However, all I can do is to enforce the law.  I cannot force the change of hearts.”

“I understand this, your majesty.  That it did happen is a fact.  The question is how to ensure it does not happen again.  Personally I would rather not have the Ebon Blade as an ally.  However I understand that to expel them would cause disruptions at this time.  The question is, does the fear of disrupting the Alliance mean that the laws of Stormwind must be set aside?  This was an attack on a banker of Stormwind of course.”

“In fact it was not.  The Draenei known as Akenehi was not a registered banker.  From a legal standpoint, she was an individual whom you entrusted to do business on your behalf in Stormwind.  If she had absconded with your funds, there would have been no legal recourse, as from the perspective of the law, you had given her money and goods with no legally binding contract.  From our perspective, it is a case of attempted murder, not an attack on a bank.”

Wrynn cleared his throat and continued.  “Don’t misunderstand us.  I find this attack to be an outrage, and I don’t intend to leave it in the hands of the Ebon Blade to clean their own house.  I will let it be known that sanctions will follow if they cannot police their own.  Please be patient though.  The Light knows I am but a man, who will do the best he can, though his choices will not always be the best in your eyes.”

Amaxe nodded.  “What one thinks should be done subjectively can vary from person to person.  So long as it is your best effort, I can ask no more.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Icecrown: Argent Tournament

“So what idiot gave the order?” Nergis was speaking to Magister Edien Sunhollow, who directed the Sunreaver portion of the Tournament.

The Magister bristled.  “An enemy that dangerous cannot be allowed to get a leg up in the influence of the Argent Crusade.  Clearly she is racist against the Horde.”  He spoke patronizingly to the stupid Orc, who was a mere sword slinger and couldn’t recognize the logic of the Blood Elves

Nergis spat.  “Identify one thing she has done that would not have been hailed if she had been a member of the Horde directing her attacks against the Alliance?”  Nergis found that a wistful thought.  She would have been happier knowing a woman of Sister Amaxe’s caliber could be her ally instead of her enemy.  She also wondered why so few of the Horde accepted the Light as opposed to the tribal gods of their ancestors

The Magister coughed.  “That’s not important.  Don’t question things beyond your understanding.”  That Orcish bitch was not supposed to be questioning the way of things.  It’s probably the devotion to this “Light” she shares with that damned Crusade. Questions like that were dangerous and needed to be suppressed. 

Nergis could see his contempt for her.  If the racists are to be kept out of the Tournament, then how did they let the Sunreavers in?  She sighed.  For all the talk of honor in the Horde, it was really nothing more than an arrogant pride compared to the honor taught by the Crusade.  There was no sense of justice or integrity or virtue.  It was might and superiority in Battle that mattered.  It was like the behavior of children: What I do to you is fine.  What you do to me is no fair.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Justicar Mariel Trueheart listened patiently to Nergis.  “I thank you for your concern Sister Nergis.  The problem is that certain members of the Horde races have independently made accusations against Sister Amaxe.  The charges need to be investigated.  Major Latensi has ruled that until these charges are investigated, she may not advance beyond the rank of Aspirant.  We must be just to your people of course.”

Nergis didn’t spit this time.  It would have been rude to one of her superiors in the Crusade.  “The charge of racism is false.  In the mines of Ymirheim, she attempted to liberate all prisoners, not just those of the Alliance races”

The Justicar sighed.  She agreed with Nergis, but had been outvoted.  “We are taking all of this into consideration of course.  If the charges are false, they will be dropped and Sister Amaxe will be exonerated.”

A question was nagging Nergis, and she finally put it into words.  “Did the accusers have any similar affiliations or things in common besides they were Horde?”

The Justicar hesitated.  The safety of the accusers were in her mind, but it was a reasonable question.  “It is difficult to know who has what standing with whom with all these factions out there.  However, they were all Death Knights.”

The cabal had met again, in a semblance of barely controlled fury.  The unsanctioned action of Yazîcîzâde had threatened their planning.  Anevay, normally the most emotionless of the lot was barely contained.

“Did you forget to what purpose we were plotting against this traitor in the first place?  We want to silence her from speaking out against our plans.  Mograine’s attention is something we do not want here.  If he looks into why the traitor was killed, do you think our experiment at Death’s Rise will remain unnoticed?”

Yazîcîzâde spat.  “You people from the Alliance are weak minded.  Do you think Mograine will care what happened to some insignificant peon of the traitor, or even that they were linked?   The Traitor knows now that her speaking publicly will endanger those close to her.  Will that not silence her?”

Teriieroo, the draenei spoke up.  “I think you do not know the Ambassador well.  She lives according to a code of right and wrong which she will not bend.  If she believes she would do an injustice to stay silent, she will speak.  She would do what she could to protect those members of her alta, but she would not permit what she considers injustice to go unanswered.”

He wondered what Yazîcîzâde would have thought about the fact that the Ambassador had once argued for the personal dignity of the orc — hundreds of years before the bloodlust of course.  That as a sentient person, they had rights as a person which their primitiveness did not negate.  He also wondered whether she regretted those words now.  It seemed to him that Shattrath in ruins was a good refutation against her beliefs.  Still, those beliefs were given credence by the followers of the Light, and as an Ambassador and a Hero of the Alliance, she had a good deal of influence.  Draenei seminaries did use some of her writings, such as 人および行為 (The Person and Act.)

Iraj Mahdavi cleared his throat… a wretched sound from the undead.  “Perhaps we are going about this in the wrong way.  We are behaving as barbarically as this stupid orc (Yazîcîzâde made a contemptuous gesture) to focus on ways to physically silence her.  Her authority is her moral authority.  If we break her perception as moral, we hurt her credibility, we reduce her influence.  Then if she becomes a body, who asks questions of one who has fallen?”

Csató Jaszi nodded.  “The idea is a good one, but when I worked with her in Zul’Drak, she struck me as being unassailable.  Those Draenei have such high standards.  i think she would rather die rather than betray them.”

Iraj shrugged, a gesture which made Csató wonder if his arm would detach.  “And I am sure many who became one of us would have rather died than serve Arthas.  It all depends on how far we are willing to go.”

Anevay was clearly pondering this.  “If Mograine found out about this…”

Iraj merely repeated: “It all depends on how far we are willing to go.”

Csató said, “Let us see what that Draenei Anevay dealt with turns up.  In the meantime, perhaps we can begin influencing some of our allies to hinder her persuasion.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Light’s Hope Chapel: Eastern Plaguelands

“No, Sister.  You missed her by about a week.”

Nergis sighed.  She had heard that often, though she was getting closer.  She had been in Zangarmarsh, Winterspring (getting there had been a chore as the Furbolg had taken to shooting at the Horde as of late), each time hearing “You missed her by…”  She noticed that the soldier seemed irritated by something.  “Has she done something which bothers you?”

The soldier looked uncomfortable being put on the spot by a member of the Argent Crusade.  “She hasn’t, no.  It’s just we heard how she was being mistreated by the Crusade, and we thought it was a hell of a thing.  Sister Amaxe had freed one of our own from Baron Rivendare when she went into Stratholme, and they treat her like a heretic in Icecrown.”

Nergis had no idea what he was talking about.  “How did they treat her?  I have been travelling long and may have missed any new developments.”

The soldier said “We heard tell of the Tournament up in Northrend.  I guess some members of the Horde formed a delegation to protest her inclusion, saying she had been attacking members of the Horde.  They don’t even give her a hearing.  They just say they won’t advance her past the rank of Aspirant until the matter is investigated.”

Nergis scowled.  She knew that Sister Amaxe had taken part in a raid on the Capitals of the Horde when the war had briefly flared up (it was now a sitzkrieg again), which had offended her as a member of the Horde, though as a believer in the Light, she knew the Horde was desperately in need of reform and repentance from its evil.  The raids had been justified under the principles of Just War.

“What moron gave that order?” she said in disgust.  Having spoken to Sister Amaxe, she knew any charges of racial hatred were false, though the Light knew she had every reason to hate orcs.

“I heard the one interfering was Major Laäg Latensi”  The soldier seemed to be more at ease now that he saw she was not approving of this.  “Can you help her out?  It was my fiancée she rescued from the Baron.  I’m ordered to serve here, so I can’t go make an appeal, but you can go as you like…”

Nergis nodded.  “I indeed can go to the Tournament grounds and rip this Latensi a new one…”

The soldier saluted her.  “Thank you Sister.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ironforge

Atlix protested, but Amaxe was coming along.  “I will not flee from attacks on me.  The Light is my protection,” she had said.  Atlix had thought she looked far less vulnerable under that mountain of chain she wore than she had wearing her skirt and wrappings.  He said nothing though, sure that Akenehi was ready to give him another thump on the head if he acknowledged he had noticed her figure.

That reassurance did not reassure Atlix, for whom The Light merely meant .

Akenehi was not coming.  As she had been the target, she could have been in danger.  And once Amaxe had learned she had begun to long for the road again, she gave her blessing.  Akenehi had been ashamed to admit it, but Amaxe was quite gentle, but firm.  Akenehi was not her servant, but a friend.  if she wanted to remain maintaining her funds it was one thing, but Amaxe was not willing to have her do it as a “duty” she was bound to.  So she was off to the swamps of Dustwallow and beyond.

Amaxe vexed Atlix.  She was a believer who did not fit his conception of a believer.  She was clearly an intellectual, had a good grasp of logic and reason — so why did she waste her time with these irrational beliefs?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The tram ride was long to Stormwind, so finally he did ask.  “Why do you believe in something which science cannot prove?”

Amaxe’s response was not one of anger or contempt as his late sister might have given.  Rather it was a look of sadness, much like a parent might have for a child who causes a mess without realizing it.

“So, would I be correct in assuming that you would only believe what can be proven by science alone?”

“Of course.”  Atlix felt confident.  “If it cannot be observed and studied, how can we know it is real?”

“Can you prove that belief from science alone?”

Atlix had studied in Gadgetzan before the disaster.  He was a qualified Gnomish Engineer, just waiting until his qualification period to take the Grand master exams.  But he had never heard that question before.

“That’s a word trick!” He protested.

“No.  It’s a statement of the obvious, like that old child’s tale of The Emperor’s New Clothes.  Your statement is not a statement of science, it is a statement of belief — that only things which can be observed by science exist.  It is not a statement that any mortal being can know.”

“How so?”

“Let’s say for example I were to say ‘There is a rat in the tram car.’  For me to know it is a true statement, I would only need to be aware of the part of the tram — under your feet — where the rat is.”

Atlix kicked the filthy thing off the side of the tram.  The problem with going underground was the burrowing rodents had a refuge.

Amaxe continued.  “However, if I were to say ‘there is no rat in the tram car,’ I would need to be aware of every part of the tram car to be certain that no rat is present.  Not in the passenger section, not in the frame not in the undercarriage.”

Atlix nodded.  He could follow this so far.

“What you are saying is ‘There is nothing in existence which cannot be verified by science,’ or in other words, All things which exist can be verified by science — All ‘A’ is ‘B.’  do you follow?”

“I do.”  Atlix was a bit annoyed.  He was a Master Engineer after all.

“So, in order for your statement to be true, you need to know everything about Existence to know that only things verifiable by science can exist.  Now, does science know everything that exists now?  Or does it make new discoveries?”

“It makes new discoveries.”

“So, it seems to follow that Science does not know at this time all that exists.  Now, when something new is discovered by science, did it not exist before it was discovered?”

Atlix glared at her.  Her questions were forcing her into a set of black and white beliefs.  “Of course it existed before it was discovered.”

“Then it follows that science not verifying something is no indication of what does and does not exist.”

“Isn’t that an argumentum ad silencio (Argument from Silence)?  Because we don’t know if something exists, it means it does?”  Atlix was sure he had her there.  Religious believers had a logical flaw somewhere.  He leaned back, waiting for her to concede defeat.

But Amaxe was shaking her head.  “It is not.  Right now, we are looking at your assertion that only things verifiable by science are true.  But we see that science does not know all things which are true.  Therefore, it is illogical to assume only physical things are true.”

“But you can’t know they do exist either.  There are no absolute truths.  There are no black and white.”

Amaxe smiled slightly.  “There are indeed.”

“Name one.”

“I’ll name two: Black and White.”

Atlix gritted his teeth.  “That’s not an argument, that’s a word trick.”

“No it isn’t.  What you argue is a self-destructing belief.  The claim ‘There are no absolutes,’  is an absolute statement.  It’s like the statement ‘I am lying to you now.’  For it to be true it negates itself.  Can you see the principle underneath this?”

“Why don’t you save time and show me?”  He knew he was being churlish, but he was angry.  He knew she was wrong, but he couldn’t be logical and answer in a way which reached his own conclusions.

“The principle is that there are absolutes.  Some are known.  Some can be discovered and some can only be revealed by the One who knows them.  The question is not ‘Are there absolutes?’  The question is ‘What are the absolutes?’  Perhaps you have an alternate view as to what they are, but can you establish them as true?”

The horn sounded in the tunnel, warning them they were reaching the station.  “Well, thanks for the free philosophy lesson” he said grudgingly.  He didn’t believe in the light, but he couldn’t deny he was unable to challenge the principles she operated from.

“Oh, the lesson was not free.”

“What do you mean?”

“The price of gained knowledge is giving up the falsehood which was in its place.  That price can be painful to pay at times, but the gain is always for the better.”

The growl Atlix made might have been in disgust or it might have been because he had transformed into a panther.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Stormwind: Financial District

The house was a total loss, but the fire fighters had been able to minimalize the spread.  Some houses were singed, but none others were damaged.  Amaxe was relieved to see this.  While she was innocent of any wrong doing, she did not want others harmed by whoever her enemies were.

“Logically, they were doing this to get to me.”  She said.  Atlix twitched his ears.  “This attack would not have been carried out this way if it was a robbery.  Nor was Akenehi important enough to have enemies who would risk the wrath of Stormwind.  If it was to attack an Alta, you would be more well known as a target.  Most probably it was done by someone who knew she was my banker.”

Atlix stared at her.  She had reasoned the same way he had and come to the same conclusion.  He noticed that she was scanning the debris.

“Can you sense anything in your cat form, or has too much come and gone to sense anything realistically?”

Atlix sniffed.  “It is the latter.  Last night, I did smell something odd… it reminded me of old Lordaeron.  Not quite the stench of the undead, but similar.  it came with each attack.  The attackers were unnatural in some way though.”

There was a cough behind them.  “Like a Death Knight perhaps?”  It was Elling Trias, seller of Cheese to Stormwind, and also a contact for SI:7.  “Matthias Shaw thought you would come back, and asks if you would go see him before starting any personal vendetta.”

Finally they had gotten back to Ironforge and her apartment.  They had to get her up the stairs and then down stairs to enter the place.  Akenehi had looked after Amaxe, while he looked around the small room.  It was largely clean, demonstrating a well disciplined life.  it also tended to be Spartan except for a large amount of books around.

Atlix was an engineer by profession.  Perhaps that was why he was so cynical with the mystical.  he viewed things as either logical or irrational.  Sentient beings were irrational of course, but they did not do things for reasons which did not have motives — unless they were insane of course.  he rejected that of course.  This was an organized attack and even if the motive was irrational, it still had a cause which was motivated from some sense of purpose.  That being said, what was the purpose?

He doubted that Akenehi had incurred the wrath of some powerful enemies.  The woman was insignificant as far as the affairs of Azeroth went.  Hell, he was insignificant as far as the affairs of Azeroth went, and he had accomplished much more than she had.

Was it related to the antipathy to some of the Draenei moving into Stormwind?  That she was attacked because she was a “space goat” as some of the slang went?  He found that unlikely as well.  These attitudes were mostly fixed among the most impoverished of the humans, the day laborers and the like.  They were competing with the impoverished Draenei for the same daily coppers.  The different language and appearance worked against their fitting in.  He had no doubt that this Death Knight had exploited the hostility to escape.  But it did not seem that this was the motive.  Akenehi was not among the impoverished class, did not live in the Whitechapel section of town, was not poor and her job as managing the alta finances did not bring her into contact with the poor section.

He suspected the alta connection was the cause here: Either because of the fact that Akenehi managed the money or because of her employer… which would make all of them targets potentially.

His eyes glanced over to Ama’ as he called her.  She had always looked ageless and rumors she was over a millennium in age.  Right, now she looked old as she stared out the window of the tram.  Not physically old.  Rather she looked worn down from a lifespan he could not even imagine.

He doubted it was the robbery aspect.  They had not looked for money or sought to capture Akenehi to find out where the money was.  They had moved to kill her.  Probability indicated that it was because of Ama’ that she was targeted.  Yet it also seemed it was not simply because of the fact she was attached to her.   He suspected he would have been attacked instead simply because he would have been easier to find out about.

His guess was she was attacked because of the fact that she did manage Amaxe’s finances, and this was intended to be an attack on her through Akenehi because of that fact.

He suspected he would only be targeted if he filled a purpose which would be indispensible to Ama’ and Akenehi would probably be in reduced danger if she ceased to manage Amaxe’s funds.  Of course that meant ultimately Amaxe was in danger.

The smart thing would be to put tracks between him and her, but he knew that even though it was irrational, he was not going to do it.  There had been a bond between her and his late sister.  His sister had also bought into that Light nonsense, and it had left her body out there somewhere in Outland.  Still, she had done a lot to protect people, and even if it was irrational, Atlix could not deny that he thought that to be a good thing.  This Ama’ was doing the same thing, things he could only approve of, even if he found her motives baffling.

OK, so I’m irrational.  I’m not going to abandon her…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`

The next morning, Atlix woke up, feeling stiff and sore.  Sleeping in cat form on a rug helped, but these Ironforge apartments were so damned small.  He felt cramped, and he wondered how Ama’ was able to endure the cramped conditions.  They were also made of metal and stone and even curled up on a rug (it would not be mannerly to take the couch when there was a lady present.

Still, though it was cramped, he could admire the crafting of the engineers here.  Water ran in on pipes, and was able to be heated, which was superior to Darnassus.  Of course he thought a lot of things were better than Darnassus with its idolatry of nature and all the “Elune be praised.”  Yes fine, you could do a lot with magic, but why make a religion out of it?

Sighing he looked around.  He wanted to head back to Stormwind and find out what was being done, if anything, in the aftermath of the attack, but he did not want to just vanish.

The apartment was relatively neat and tidy, with the exception of the writing desk.  There were many books opened and papers all over with writings on them.  Some he could read.  He picked up one and read:

“On the nature and dignity of the sentient person in regards to good and evil.

…so we can see that the being which is sentient (this is not a property of the individual who has full use of his or her mental facilities, but also includes those who do not have these facilities due to accident of birth or of injury) has certain rights to be treated as a person whether an elf, human, draenei or orc.” 

(Atlix thought it looked like she had been reluctant to write that last word, as it was written in small and cramped letters, compared to the beautiful script of the rest of the page). 

“A race is not intrinsically evil by its existence, though we can assess the titles of good or evil to the actions which a race does.  We must reject the idea that morality is one thing to a Draenei and another to a Tauren.  Something is good or evil regardless of the nature of the sentient race which does it.  As such we must condemn the actions of gladiator combat and the treatment of peons in Orcish culture.  However, we must also condemn the treatment of the ‘Broken’ among the Draenei as well…”

Others he could not read except for a few words in Common.  He assumed it was Draenei script:

「善悪に関する知覚力がある人の性質そして威厳で」。

…そう私達は知覚力がある(これ彼/彼女の精神設備の完全な使用がある個人の特性ではないが、またエルフ、人間、draeneiまたはorc。かどうか生れまたは傷害の事故によるこれらの設備を持っていない人を含んでいることを見ることができる)持っている人として扱われるある特定の権利を存在が。 競争は私達が競争が行為によいですか悪のタイトルを査定してもいいけれども、存在によって本質的に邪悪ではない。私達は道徳がDraeneiへ1つの事およびTaurenへ別のものであるという考えを拒絶しなければならない。何かはそれをする知覚力がある競争の性質にもかかわらずよいまたは悪である。そのような物が私達剣闘士の戦闘の行為およびOrcish文化のpeonsの処置を非難しなければならないように。但し、私達はまたDraeneiの中の`Brokenの処置をまた非難しなければならない…」

His head swam, trying to imagine how hard it would be to learn such a script.  He had not realized that Ama’ was an intellectual.  He had viewed Shamans as superstitious and followers of the Light as being the same. 

This was some deep thinking philosophy here, and it seemed to be a matter of well reasoned arguments.  He wondered how this could be compatible with the Draenei excessive focus on the Light.  Reason and Religion did not seem to go together.  Perhaps she was a freethinker then?  He knew he was atypical as a night elf with his interest in engineering.  Perhaps not all Draenei were devoutly religious.

He heard some stirring down the stairs where Ama’ had gone last night.  He assumed it was her study, and went down to tell her his plans.  He froze part way down the stairs, seeing it was not just a study but a bedroom as well.  Amaxe was awake, and kneeling down, head bowed, her lips moving, soft words being barely audible.  They were words of praying he gathered.  it was a mix of Common and Draenei words which made it hard to decipher the meaning.

He blushed, seeing her in her stage of undress.  It seemed she was wearing a simple skirt and wrappings for binding her breasts — clearly this was something she was doing privately and not for public image.  The concentration showed she was quite serious and sincere about what she was doing.

Atlix had no intention of leering over her in her private moments, so he turned to creep back up the stairs.  He gave a start though when he heard her whisper:

“How long will I be kept apart from my loved ones.  Why do you deny me the chance to be with them once again in the light?”  There was a sigh.  “Even so, please grant me the strength to persevere until I am delivered from this world.”

Atlix made a very unfeline stumble.  Was she suicidal?  Could that explain her famed valor in defending the innocent?  He didn’t think that was the case, but he did not know how to interpret the prayer otherwise.

Amaxe looked up and saw the rear half of the panther going up the stairs.  She looked to the icon on her wall.  “I am sorry. I have people to protect.  Give me the strength to persevere and not to falter as long as you will me to be here.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Atlix made a beeline up the stairs reflecting on what he had heard and saw.  His thoughts were hard to keep clear however.  He felt embarrassed to have intruded on her most personal moment.  He also felt embarrassed to have seen her less than fully clothed.  Prior to now, he had never seen her outside of her chain mail which looked to be as heavy as hell.  Now he was reminded that she was a woman, and an attractive one as well.  Enough so it was easy to forget she was of a different race, with a different biological structure with hooves and horns and a tail.  Lost in thought as he scurried upwards, he bumped into a pair of legs.  Looking up, he saw Akenehi glaring down, her arms folded.

“Otoko nan ze!” She said indignantly.  “Do you think you can just wander anywhere in a woman’s house before she has come up and shown herself to be presentable?”  She thumped him on the head with her fist.  “Pervert, using your sneaky cat form to spy on a lady!”

“I wasn’t…” he protested.  “I didn’t know that was her bedroom —”

Akenehi thumped him again.  “Did you see a bedroom elsewhere in here?  Where else would it be?”

Atlix had to concede the point.  Ironforge apartments were small.

“I was in error.  However, I heard some sound down there and wanted to tell someone I was heading back to Stormwind, so it did not seem I had abandoned the two of you. I want to find out what happened…”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Stormwind: Whitechapel District

Bensonmum sighed as he made his way through the crowds of Green Street, serving as an escort for the distribution of food to the poor.  The sights and smells were of poverty, of despair.  Many people were living a life of desperation.  Some women were lowering themselves to begging.  Some men were falling prey to the security of criminal bands.  Some children were becoming pickpockets.

Some.  Not all.  There were many day laborers and women who did their best to work in weaving and domestic services.  Unfortunately, there were many humans who were as poor who were trying for the same employment.  Fights broke out over coppers a day.

It sickened him to see some of the women who had given into despair.  <Sir, for a few copper, I will lift my tail for you…> he heard from a weary female voice.

He turned.  The draenei woman looked burned out on life, and had gone from living to existing.  <Give up this life, sister.>  He said gently.  <It can do you no good.  We can help you at the chapel.  We will provide food and training for a life so you don’t have to do this.>

The woman spat.  <So I can sew and clean and work my fingers to the bone so i can live even more poorly?>

She turned away and accosted another male stranger.  <Sir, for a few coppers I will lift…>

Bensonmum hated this.  He was a Paladin, in service to the light.  Right now this service seemed to be linked to the helping of the poor.  it was frustrating though.  There was so much evil out there.  So much despair.  Gangs like the Defias and the Syndicate were out there, exploiting the misery of the poor.  He longed to oppose them.

That is pride.  He told himself.  Right now I am called to serve humbly.

They were forced to move aside as a carriage moved through the street.  Carriages meant money and money meant potential trouble to those who caused interference.

The carriage stopped, and a screen opened.  “Excuse me.  Can you tell me how to get to the cathedral of light?”  It was a woman of noble lineage it seemed.  She was unwise to go through such a poor district though.  Only a stupid criminal would risk targeting a noble of course.  But there were a lot of stupid criminals out there.

Bensonmum said “You need to go out to the canal district.  It would be on the other side of the stockade.”  he indicated the direction she needed to go.

“Thank you.  What is your name?” she said in a kind but patronizing tone.

“Bensonmum,” he said simply.

“Ah so polite.  Thank you Benson.”  She handed him a silver coin and the carriage moved on.  Bensonmum headed back to the group who was escorting the food to the local church.  They were snickering.  Bensonmum didn’t bother to answer further than a “Shut up.”  He dropped the coin into the collection box they were bringing.  It was unfortunate that his name was similar to the human name Benson and the lower class form of addressing a female superior.  It had gotten him in trouble when he had told his name to a male noble.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Later, he stopped at the local tavern, the Chachamaru.  It was the typical Whitechapel shanty building made of cloth and planks.  The outsider would have found it hard to distinguish from other buildings, and its sign was written in the Draenei script: 茶々丸.  An outsider would have walked past it without knowing the sign was there.

The talk this morning was of the attack on some Draenei.  One near the Financial District.  The other near the tram tunnels.

Some were grumbling about how they were being targeted and were doing nothing back.  “We ought to form a gang to defend the streets, like the humans did with the Defias…” that was Hohepa, a stone cutter who had tried to earn his living, only to find that the Stonecutters guild was not accepting new members.

“I don’t think that would be prudent.” Bensonmum said.  For whatever purposes the Defias began, they are nothing more than a band of thugs now.  It’s bad enough seeing some of our men turning to robbery and some of our women turning to prostitution.  “I don’t want to see a band of organized crime form from the Draenei.  We may not do evil so good may come of it.”

Another Draenei spat.  “It’s easy for religious people to spout platitudes.  You don’t have to worry about a family.”

Hohepa looked a bit taken aback.  “Urusei, Hatui.  Bensonmum is out there every day making sure our wives and children have some food to go around on the days we can’t find work…”  There was a silence then, as they drank.  Most of the Draenei were trying to care for their new families (families who had surviving members together were few and far between) as they started new lives on this world of Azeroth, and the fact that people like Bensonmum needed to distribute food was a indictment of their failure to provide.

“Hell of a thing,” grumbled Hatui, “When someone like the Ambassador gets attacked in public by a mob of those paleskins.  How much has she done for this Alliance?”  He bowed to Bensonmum.  “I’m sorry.  I shouldn’t abuse you or the Church for this garbage… but sometimes I find myself wondering… where the hell was the Light when those orcs slaughtered us?  Where is the light now?  Why do we have to suffer to get by and just exist?”

Bensonmum sighed.  Drinking and theology did not go together.  “All of us have original sin on us, Hatui.  So do the humans.  Either the Light gives us free will or the Light does not.  If the Light does, it means we have the free will to do good or evil.  If we do not have free will, nothing we can do will change.  Since it is heretical to blame the light for causing evil, we have to conclude that if the Light grants us the ability to accept the Grace of the light, we can also refuse to accept it.”

Hatui stood up.  “If I wanted a sermon, I’d go to the Cathedral.  I don’t get why the Church, and you, are siding with them, and not with us.”  He walked out of the door.

Bensonmum rubbed his temple.  How often he had heard that.  When the Church was consistent in its teaching, those who were inconvenienced accused it of siding with the other side.

It pained him to hear so many question the Light, when there were human causes to the evil being done.  He wondered how far up the evil went.  The Lady Amaxe was an ambassador after all.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

King Varian Wrynn thought if he heard “The Lady Amaxe was an ambassador after all,” it was going to be hard to remain diplomatic.  The embassy from the Exodar had (rightly) taken offense at the attack.  That it was probably linked to those idiots in the poor districts of Stormwind was something that made it sticky, because the Draenei delegation wanted to know why these refugees were not being protected by the guards.

Because there is a fucking war on here and most of my soldiers are up north! was what he wanted to say.

“I don’t condone the attacks on your people.  I have spoken against it.  However, short of using the Lich King’s own magic on them, I can’t compel these lower class thugs from following the law when the guards are not near.”

He wondered how things had fallen so far while he had been away, captured.  He had taken lady Proudmoore’s advice to meet with this Thrall, had been betrayed and captured.  Now he had a huge mess to take care of.

Personally he had been appalled with the treatment of the Ambassador.  She had been a heroic defender of the innocent.  One of those he considered a hero of the Alliance, and a mob of thugs and rabble had set upon her.

“The problem is among the unskilled laborers there are more people seeking work than jobs to go around.  Your people are hard workers, they have a strong sense of community and a strong sense of being morally upright.  However when they compete for the same jobs of manual labor, the humans here don’t see that.  They see a group of foreigners who have strange language and culture who are ‘taking their jobs.’  Now I can speak out until I am… er, until I am exhausted (he decided the idiom ‘Blue in the face’ was not appropriate here), but until we can solve this problem of needing more jobs I think the conditions for this hostility will remain.”

Ambassador Masaru was a sensible Draenei of course.  He understood the economic depression which had come with the war.  While it was true that skilled hands were desperately needed, the unskilled labor tended to remain constant with engineering advances.  Adding to that that most of the most famed adventurers were stationed in Northrend meant their accumulated wealth was being spent more there and less here.

“We understand and sympathize of course, your majesty.  Still, some sort of gesture to show that such a crime will not go unpunished is needed.”  He shook his head.  “War is sometimes necessary.  Yet it always brings evils along with it, no matter what we intend.” He bowed deeply.

King Varian nodded.  “I do condemn the attack of course, and we are investigating.  Ambassador Amaxe is indeed a loyal and valued member of the Alliance, and I do feel it a disgrace that she was attacked by rabble here.  I will do what I can do to stop this of course, but please be aware that this cannot vanish by a royal decree and a wave of my hand.  This will take years to cure… if it can be cured at all.”

Ambassador Masaru bowed again, with more personal feeling with it.  it was clear the King was sincere about the matter, and was not mouthing diplomatic niceties.  “I will of course relay your message to our leader.”

After they had left, the king sighed.  This was like juggling lit torches over a pit of dwarven blasting powder.  If he let one torch drop… So many factions that had to be balanced, so many at opposition.  Losing one could mean a loss of their support in the war…

“Your majesty.  Matthias Shaw has a report for you on the identity of the assassins.  It seems the attackers were disguised Death Knights.”

The king sighed again.  Was the lit torch marked “Ebon Blade” about to hit the ground?