“Remind me whose idea this was again?” Cayeli asked, looking down the line of her friends, her hawkstrider fluffing its blue wings.
“Oh, a crazy idea that might result in injury or death? That’ll be one of Draggka’s then.” Elizabone commented, perched on her eerily still dreadsteed.
“Hey!” The troll cried, craning her head to glare at the Forsaken from on top of her venomhide ravasaur.
“Oh no, she’s right.” Harnaka grinned. “You’re always been the troublemaker in this group.” Her frost wolf shifted underneath her eagerly.
“An’ Tink isn’t?”
“Excuse me?” The goblin arched an eyebrow. “You’re the one dragging us into all these things. Also I’ve half a mind to give the others a headstart now.”
“You could, but den I might forget to tell Bane here dat ya not be food...” Draggka said, the ravasaur swinging its head towards the goblin and gnashing its teeth greedily. The brown wolf Tinkerspring was riding to give her extra height snarled back at it, baring its teeth.
“Come on, let’s not start a fight before the race has actually begun.” Cayeli said. “I’d prefer to try and beat you all without resorting to my fists.”
“Yeah, it be no fun brawling against a monk.” The hunter said. “Or Harnie.” She looked at the warlock. “I could take Liz, though.”
“Hey, I might look like a fleshy bag of bones, but I’m a very well-held together fleshy bag of bones” Elizabone retorting, pointing a bony finger accusingly.
“Ahem.” They quietened when Tinkerspring cleared her throat. “Alright ladies, enough bickering, let’s set down the rules. Pretty simple, really: the first person to get down the mountain, dodging bears and harpies, to where Aiya is by the old Bloodtotem area will win.” She folded her arms. “Now, I’m pretty sure I don’t need to tell you that you need to win fairly, but I better just remind you so we knew where we stand.”
She gently nudged her wolf to walk forward down the line of riders. “Cay, you’re not allowed to paralyse anyone, and nor giving your hawkstrider any ‘go-faster’ brews.”
“They don’t exist, but I won’t paralyse anyone.” Cayeli said, bowing her head.
“Draggka, no Aspect of the Cheetah, and definitely no laying of traps to slow people down.”
“Don’t worry Tink. I be wanting to win fairly.” The troll did the same, soothing her ravasaur’s anxious shifting.
“Harnie, leave the elements out of this. No speeding up with the wind, and no earthgrasp totems.”
“Fair enough.” Harnaka nodded.
“And Liz, you know what I’m going to say. Don’t put the fear of god knows what into people, and don’t cheat using your portals.”
“As if I’d do that!” Elizabone’s eyes widened, resting a hand on her chest.
“You’re a warlock.” The shaman reminded her.
“How rude. You’re lucky I don’t have my succub-” Elizabone began.
“No demon summoning either!” Tinkerspring yelled.
“Ugh, fine.” The Forsaken narrowed her eyes at the orc. “You’re going down.”
“Wait, isn’t her dreadsteed technically a demon?” Cayeli piped up.
“No demon summoning other than her demon horse!” The goblin replied.
“He’s not just a ‘demon horse’! He’s a dreadsteed from Xoroth!”
“Oh, for the spirit’s sake!” Draggka cried, jabbing her heels into the sides of her mount. It gave a triumphant roar and sprang forward, much to the loud consternation of her friends.
The hunter didn’t care, lowering her body to the ravasaur’s back and watching the foothills lurch closer with every powerful stride. The howl of the frostwolf sounding out from behind her signalled that her friends were now on the move too. The troll genuinely didn’t know who would win; most of their mounts were bred for stamina, not speed, with the only exceptions being her venomhide ravasaur and Elizabone’s dreadsteed.
Of course, they were now all out for her blood after her little stunt. Draggka had been honest when she said she’d wanted to win fairly, but sometimes her friends could get caught up in their bickering and they needed an ‘outside influence’ to get their minds back on track.
The hunter glanced back to see her friends charging down the hill behind her, Harnaka and Elizabone in front with Cayeli following behind.
“Draggka! You cheating bint!” The Forsaken hollered.
“Got ya moving though, didn’t it?” The troll called back, looking back to make sure she wasn’t going to ride into a tree. They’d never let her live it down for the rest of her life.
“Laugh all you want Drak, but well all know who’s going to lose in the end!” Harnaka cried.
Draggka grinned, turning back to the race. This is going to be fun.
(This was a bit easier. Trying to use less of Khadgar and more of Draggka’s friends in interactions. Also I have no idea how troll hair works. Set during WoD.)
“I never realized your hair was so long when it’s down.”
Draggka lifted her head from the water to look at her friend Harnaka, the orc washing off the dirt from her muscled arms.
“It not be like I bathe wit others very often.” The hunter replied, brushing her hair from her face. “Ya be one of da few I trust.”
“Really?” Harnaka grinned. “Never expected I’d share such an honour with Spike!”
The raptor snorted, glaring at the orc from where he was sitting guard over the two women.
“He not be da best partner to bathe wit.” Draggka replied mildly. “Dose talons an’ all.”
“I suppose that’s true.” The orc conceded. She thought for a moment or two, before saying: “Do you think Liz washes at all?”
“Not in running water she don’t.” The troll growled. “Quickest way to poison all life down-stream. ‘Sides, da water probably be makin’ her rot quicker. I tink she be washing clothes for our benefit. Not like she be able to smell anyting any more.”
“Yeah. I know a few who smell like they’ve been standing in Tanaris ever since they were raised.” Harnaka made a retching sound.
“Probably why dey keep getting guard duty.” Draggka commented. “‘You go over dere where we can’t be smellin’ ya! An’ stay downwind!’“
“Good defence against the Alliance as well, I suppose. Especially worgen. Congrats, you can now smell everything! Including every single Forsaken in a mile radius.”
“No wonder dey hate dem so much. Worse den kicking ya out and blighting ya city, but if all ya can smell be dead flesh, you be going mad too.” Draggka said, climbing out of the pool of water and picking up her towel to dry herself. Fully down, her hair was an unruly mane of red, cascading down to the midpoint between her shoulderblades. Not that she would let it stay there, considering the supreme hazard it would be in combat and hunting.
As the troll rummaged through her pack for the items she needed, she heard the sound of the shaman wading over to her.
“Ah, I finally get to see how you do your hair!” She grinned, crossing her large arms on the shore nearby. Draggka raised an eyebrow at her.
“What be so interesting ‘bout how I be doing my hair?”
“Of me, Tink and you, you’re the one with the best mohawk.” Harnaka pointed to the crest of purple on her mostly bald head. “And you’ve got braids too. I wanted to see how you did it. If it was the same way I did mine, to see if I can get something as good looking as yours.”
“If ya being using gel, den yeah, dat’s how I be doing it.” Draggka showed the bottle to the orc. “Sadly, dis not be natural.”
“In a way, I’m kind of glad.” Harnaka replied. “I’d be so mad if I found out that trolls have natural mohawks. You’re already too cool for your own good.”
“Dat be exactly what I tink about orcs an’ muscles.” Draggka replied, setting the bottle aside and gathering her hair together. “I swear, Draenor be testing me. Tink I be gawking at Draka one time. Be glad she didn’t notice me starin’!”
“And here I thought you liked guys more.” The shaman grinned ever widely. “Good to know we’re really your type.”
“Looking don’t mean anyting.” Draggka retorted, beginning to braid her hair. “‘Sides, I not be looking for a mate. I be quite fine jus’ me and Spike. And you guys.”
“Not at all?” Harnaka asked, serious now. The troll hesitated a moment, before returning to her braiding.
“No. Don’t tink I be gonna meet anyone who strikes me fancy in da Horde. No-one who be seeing da tings I have, or understands what I understand.” She shrugged. “It not be a big deal.”
The orc just watched her for a bit.
“So, what’ll be your plan, when you get too old to fight?” She asked.
“Ya assume I be getting old, first.” Draggka flashed her friend a grin. “If I be getting too old to fight...I guess I be getting too old to go exploring or relic hunting. Guess I’ll have to be settlin’ down and tinkering wit engineering tings for da rest of my days. Maybe dere be a farm going in Pandaria I could be settlin’ on.”
Harnaka snorted.
“I can’t imagine you becoming a farmer. You’d get bored and go on adventures in the Dread Wastes.”
“Maybe when I be old an’ cranky, I be appreciating da peace and quiet!” The troll grinned, moving onto her second braid. “What were you tinking?”
“Oh, I’d like to find the woman of my dreams, we settle down in Orgrimmar or somewhere where I can have my own forge, and we adopt some orphans in need of a home.” Harnaka said, lifting a shoulder. “I’m old-school.”
“Nothing wrong wit dat.” The hunter said. She smiled. “You want what ya mothers have.”
“Yeah, I do.” The shaman smiled back. “Even if I’m blessed to be a shaman, I love that life they have. Peaceful. Still serving the Horde, but much safer. Not on the frontlines.”
“You tink dey worry about ya?” Draggka asked softly, now on her third.
“They pretend not to, but yeah. I’m sure they do. I can see in their letters. They could have birthed me themselves, the amount they worry.”
“Yeah.” A silence settled over the two women.
“You still miss your family?” Harnaka asked tentatively. Draggka sighed.
“Deep down, yeah. Kinda feel jealous when ya talk ‘bout ya mothers, or Aiya her parents. But it be just an ache now. Lived wit it fer so long it don’t hurt much any more.” She managed a small smile. “I got Spike. I got Dranka. I got you and de others. I be fine.”
“I hope so.” Harnaka said. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bring the mood down.”
“It be fine.” The troll replied. “We be friends. Friends can ask da difficult questions.” The orc smiled at that.
A comfortable silence remained for Draggka’s fourth and final braid. But when it was done, she turned her attention back to the bottle. Harnaka brightened up as soon as the hunter picked it up.
“Ah, now the good stuff!” She said, grinning. Draggka poured a generous amount onto her palm. “Let’s see how you do it.”
“I bet it be da same as you. I just do dis...” The hunter painstakingly sculpted her hair up into its crest of red with the help of the gel, aided by the shorter fur on either side, letting Draggka know where the boundaries were by touch alone. She continued this for the rest of her hair, except for the bit that hung down below the back of her head. It stood up of its own accord, with no assistance required.
“See? Be dat be how ya do it,” she said.
“Hmm.” The orc hummed, peering at the gel bottle. “Yeah, it is, and this is the same gel I use. Damn.”
“Sorry.” Draggka grinned. “Ya’ll just have to be growing it longer to be getting it as good as mine.”
“My hair only goes this high!” The shaman gestured grumbling. “Not even being in Gorgrond as long as we have hasn’t helped.” She blew a snort out of her button nose. “Oh well. Thanks for your insight anyway, Draggka.”
“No problem.” Draggka smiled. “Dat be what friends are for. Tank you for ya company.”
(Nothing to really say about this, except to tag my usual, wonderful ladies: @galleywinter, @sigurdjarlson, @highpriestessbriyanna, @fer8girl and @elfgirl931! Hope you enjoy it!)
“The Hammer of Khaz’goroth.” Khadgar breathed as Mayla Highmountain placed the Pillar of Creation on the pedestal, set aside by the Council in the Chamber of the Guardian. “You say your people have protected this artifact for generations?”
“Yes, until Dargrul’s theft and the death of my father.” Mayla replied. “If not for the skill of your champions, I doubt we would have gotten it back.”
She turned to look at the group of five Horde champions behind her. Draggka, the troll hunter, smiled and bowed her head respectfully to the chieftain, even as she rubbed her raptor Spike’s head, and glanced at her compatriots. Harnaka, the orc shaman, stood on her left, a purple bruise swelling one orange eye shut, and by her side was Cayeli, a blood elf monk who still somehow managed to look poised and immaculate despite the group’s rough adventure and the bruises forming on the glimpses of tanned skin. Standing at Draggka’s right was the contrast of the diminutive goblin priest Tinkerspring; whose personality more than made up the deficit, and the much larger form of the Sunwalker Aiyaona, whose smile was the smallest and most shy of the group, although her eyes told an altogether brighter story.
“When you first set foot upon our shores,” Mayla spoke, “I prayed to the spirits, asking if you could be trusted. By helping to reunite our tribes, you have proven yourselves true friends to our people.” The tauren looked back to the Hammer, now hovering in magical stasis. “For us, the Hammer has always been a symbol of unity, a reminder of our proud history. But in your hands, it will serve a greater purpose.” She looked back to the group. “On behalf of the tribes of Highmountain, I entrust the Hammer to you and your allies. May it strike true at the hearts of the enemy.”
Mayla paused a moment, her ears flicking. “The spirits whisper that our fates are intertwined. My people stand ready to aid you in the war against the Legion.”
Khadgar bowed.
“We are honour to have your support, High Chieftain,” he said, voice soft but strong. “We will guard the Hammer with our lives.”
Mayla’s head tilted forward in a bare hint of a nod.
“I have no doubt of that.” She replied.
“If no-one minds,” Aiyaona suddenly piped up. “Would I be allowed to accompany Mayla back to Highmountain? I-I know she has her own guards, but the Legion...” She trailed off, her brief boldness retreating under everyone’s gaze.
“I would be grateful for your company, Aiyaona.” A slight smile graced the High Chieftain’s lips. “We best return to Highmountain now, in any case.”
“Of course.” The Sunwalker nodded, glancing to her friends. “See you soon.”
“See ya soon, Aiya.” Draggka smiled. “Safe travels.”
The two tauren took their leave, starting a low conversation in Taur’ahe just before they stepped onto the teleporter, and were gone in a flash of magic. Khadgar looked to the rest of the group, one silver eyebrow arched quizzically.
“Aiya’s glad to be among tauren that don’t see her as coming from a tribe of traitors.” Harnaka explained, going to rub at her swollen eye before Cayeli swatted her hand away.
Draggka nodded.
“I don’t be blamin’ her. I not seen her dat happy in a long time. ‘Sides, she be better placed den us to be understanding dem better.”
“Certainly.” Khadgar agreed, glancing to the Pillar of Creation. “One down, four to go.” He grinned widely, one that reached his eyes and made them gleam. “Excellent work, all of you.”
“Tanks.” Draggka grinned back. “Though it be mainly Aiya an’ Tink who got us through dat.”
“Aw, shucks!” Tinkerspring waved her hand in feigned embarrassment, whilst her grin just as wide as Khadgar’s. “But you were fine. Those two, on the other hand...” She pointed at Harnaka and Cayeli.
“It’s not our fault we have to fight in close quarters.” The blood elf huffed, folding her arms. “We have to take it as it comes, not sit around a million miles away and throw pointy sticks at them.” A smirk danced on her lips as Draggka gasped dramatically, eyes wide. “Also let me remind you what your raptor does, whilst you’re out there on your own.”
“Yeah, but he’s actually smart enough to get out of the way of rocks and magma flying in his direction.” The priest commented, before her voice dropped to a serious tone. “You were very lucky Harnie took that blow for you. It could’ve gotten super messy.”
Cayeli glanced to the orc, who smiled broadly at her, despite her obvious wound.
“Yeah. Thank you, Harnie.” The monk smiled back, albeit more shyly.
“No problem.” Harnaka replied, patting her shoulder as gently as the muscled warrior could. “I’d do it again, any time.”
“Ah, hopefully not.” Draggka interrupted. “Tink might not appreciate scraping ya offa da floor all da time.”
“Mana doesn’t grow on trees, you animals.” The goblin sniffed. “And before you say anything, I’ve still got to buy vials to make those potions! Money has to go into them at some point!”
Khadgar chuckled deeply, clearly amused by their banter. Fondness was written all over his face, although Draggka could have swore that...there was a sadness in his eyes...
“I’d prefer all of you to stay alive,” he said. “I’d like not to lose any of the champions that aided me on Draenor.” He looked between them. “Anyway, what were your next moves? As I understand it, you’ve all joined various class orders, and some of you have moved up in the world?”
“Most of us.” Cayeli sighed. “Aiya and I didn’t, though in her case I think it was for the best. I don’t think she would have coped with becoming Highlord of the Silver Hand.”
“You wanted to be Grandmaster of the Order of the Broken Temple?” Tinkerspring asked, raising a surprised eyebrow. “I thought you were averse to power?”
“Well, it would have been nice.” The blood elf admitted. “I can’t deny it. But Chiuza, the draenei who is the Grandmaster, she outclasses me.” She shrugged. “So I haven’t got any problems with her being in charge. Honestly.”
“It’s alright, Cay.” Harnaka smiled fondly, patting her gently on the shoulder again, pulling her slightly closer. “You’ll always be the Grandmaster in my eyes.” The elf’s cheeks seemed to flush red.
“High praise from the new Farseer.” Khadgar spoke, his eyes dropping to the Doomhammer at her side. Draggka noticed, to her surprise, that there was a wary light in his pale blue eyes, and slight tension tightening in his back. “Go’el stepped down?”
“Yeah.” Harnaka glanced at the hammer. “I don’t...exactly feel competent enough to wield it. I mean, I know it responded to me, but...Go’el...I don’t think I could even begin to fill his shoes.”
“Harnie, you’ll be fine.” Cayeli smiled at her, green eyes flickering and the flush completely vanished. “You’re not leading the Horde or anything. Besides, if you can’t fill his shoes, don’t!” She giggled musically. “Why do you think I’m a monk, and not an arcanist like my parents?”
“You’re missing out, you know.” Khadgar said to her, a smile playing on his lips. “But you’re right. You must forge your own path where you can, not just follow others blindly, hoping to live up to them.” A flash of morose sadness flickered across his face, so quick Draggka knew she could have missed it if she’d blinked. The apprentice follows the master, she noted silently.
“Says the wizard who tried to get himself trapped on Draenor a second time.” Tinkerspring smirked, leaning on her staff.
“In my defence, High Priest,” Khadgar grinned widely, “I have closed the Dark Portal twice before. I know what I’m doing!”
“Ya said dat before ya nearly blew me up.” Draggka reminded him, Spike chuffing softly.
“For an archmage, you do tend to be a danger to yourself and others.” Cayeli agreed, folding her arms and raising one long red eyebrow.
“That’s how mages are, Cay.” Tinkerspring interrupted Khadgar as he opened his mouth. “You know how my brother is? Imagine him, but bigger, less green, old as shit, and you get the Old Man here.” The goblin grinned madly as the young-old mage narrowed his eyes at her.
“I’ll remember that.” Khadgar said. “I still don’t know how or why the Conclave chose you as their leader. Did you pay them off?”
“Wow, you’re going there? Wow.” The goblin gasped, laying a hand over her breast. “Honestly though, I don’t know either. That Faol guy seemed pretty convinced about it, though.”
The elder mage blinked.
“Faol? As in...Alonsus...Faol?” He asked, voice faint and disbelieving.
“Yeah, that was his name. He was an old bishop of the Light or something.” Tinkerspring frowned. “Why?”
There was a pause.
“Nothing.” Khadgar shook his head. “Nothing that should concern you. Just the musings of an old man.” He smiled, looking for the world as if he truly was unbothered, but the hunter wasn’t entirely convinced. “Anyway, I’ve kept you champions long enough. I’m sure you all have important things to be getting on with, and I’d be loathe to keep you from them.” He grinned widely. “Especially if that involves fighting the Legion.”
“Don’t worry Archmage, even if we don’t, those demon hunters will do more than their fair share.” Cayeli commented, the others nodding.
“Are you sure we can trust them?” Harnaka asked, glancing between monk and mage. “I mean, they were working with Illidan, and he wasn’t exactly being a good influence on Outland, right?” She looked to Khadgar, who nodded.
“That is true, but the enemy of our enemy is our friend, and in this case, their blades are greatly appreciated.” Khadgar said. “There are few as adept in fighting the Legion as they are, after all. And they seem trustworthy enough.”
He looked to the Hammer, and then back to them, smiling. “Anyhow, well done, champions. Once I have discovered clues to the locations of the other Pillars of Creation, I will let you know, and I’m sure you’ll bring them safely back.” His smile was warm, almost fatherly. “Perhaps the Highmountain tauren can help you? They know this land better than us. We’ll see. Either way, good hunting, my friends. Keep yourselves safe.”
“We will.” Tinkerspring grinned. “And if they don’t, I’ll at least be around to scrape them up off the floor.”
“We not be that bad, surely?” Draggka grinned at her friend.
“You’re not.” The priest replied, gesturing. “They are.”
Cayeli gasped offendedly.
“How about you do the punching next time, Tinkerbell?” She said haughtily. “We’ll see how easy you find it.”
“Shouldn’t be too hard, I’m very short.” The goblin grinned widely, especially as the monk narrowed her eyes.
“Let’s not be starting a fight here.” Draggka chuckled, glancing the archmage and the tendrils of magic that were starting to drift around his fingers. “Not unless ya wanna end up sheep.”
“It’s alright, Cay.” Harnaka smiled, hip-checking her friend and almost knocking her over. “I’ll protect you and keep you safe, even if Tink won’t.”
The elf’s annoyance faded, and she smiled back at the orc.
“Thank you, Harnaka. You’re...a good friend.”
The orc’s smile widened, her pale orange eyes brighting.
“C’mon, we should get our armour repaired.” She gestured. “You never know when the next scrap is going to happen.”
The other nodded, starting to make a move before Khadgar cleared his throat.
“I hope you don’t mind, but I’d like to take up some of the Huntmaster’s time. I have a matter of scouting reports to discuss with her.” He glanced to Draggka, a flash of mischief passing through his eyes for a split second.
The other women glanced to one another, before a grin that stretched from ear to ear appeared on Tinkerspring’s face, and she ushered the others off.
“We’ll catch up later Draggka!” She said brightly, flashing a wink at the pair before she addressed the others. “Lemme heal that eye up for you when we’re waiting. Maybe next time you’ll be a bit more careful!” Any potential response was swallowed as they stepped onto the teleporter, vanishing in a flash of magic.
As soon as they were alone, Draggka felt Khadgar’s hand slide around her waist.
“You were quiet for a while there.” He murmured softly, eyes warm with adoration. “Everything alright?”
“Yeah, everyting be fine.” She smiled back at him. “Dey can be a little loud. I don’t mind. We be good friends, and I wouldn’t be trading dem.”
“No.” Khadgar looked back to the Hammer, smiling. “Certainly not. You are all champions of impeccable skill, and we are lucky to have you protecting Azeroth. And you are lucky to have their friendship.”
The troll nodded, absently petting Spike as he brushed by her.
“Yeah.” She looked back to her lover and raised an eyebrow. “So, what be dese ‘scouting reports’ ya want to be talkin’ to me about?”
“Nothing of the sort.” Khadgar grinned mischievously. “I was hoping to spend some time with you before circumstances call you away again.” His grin cooled to a shy smile. “Also I was hoping to show you...show you my quarters,” he said softly, his cheeks flushing red like a schoolboy with a crush. “I, I was thinking it’d be a good place for you to, to relax, w-without anyone seeing us, or, or, bothering you.”
Draggka smiled at his stuttering, feeling her face heat.
“Dat...I like da sound of dat,” she said, her hand brushing over the one on her hip as it slid away. “I guess ya gonna teleport us dere?”
“Of course.” Khadgar replied, lifting his hands as magic swirled around him, filling his eyes with purple-white light. “Wouldn’t want anyone catching us. Come close.”
Spike came to Draggka’s side as the mage spoke, the spell completing moments after. When it had deposited them inside the Violet Citadel, and onto a soft, plush rug, she opened her eyes to take her new surroundings. She wasn’t sure what she’d been expecting, but it definitely wasn’t this.
The apartment was bigger than she’d imagined, and quite finely furnished, feeling warm and...homely, in a similar way the insides of the keep in Frostwall had felt. Except this felt softer, as if war was barely a distant thought to its resident; comfort was a much higher priority. It had the dark purple tones of the Kirin Tor in some places, but most of it had been replaced in deep reds and darker colours to match. The only Kirin Tor eyes she could glimpse were on discarded correspondence stuffed into corners, or under piles of books scattered about the room.
The room they were currently in had to be what humans called the ‘living room’, carpeted with soft rugs and lined with shelves that held books and other various artifacts, some nicely stacked, others less so. It was windowless, but lit well by lamps hanging from the ceiling, as well from the natural light leaking in from the other rooms. There was a large, red cushioned couch that took up a good portion of the room, a table in front of it, and a pair of equally plush chairs towards a corner of the room. They were positioned by one of the magical fireplaces Dalaran was known for, that produced no smoke (or if they did, the mages found a way to capture and store it somehow).
It was a foreign place to the troll, but she felt very relaxed and secure here. Maybe it was Khadgar that soothed her, or the knowledge that it was his home; either way, she knew she would be as settled here as she was in Frostwall.
“So,” Khadgar cleared his throat, a slight bashful flush alighting his face, “shall I show you around? Or do you just want to sit and rest? I mean, I can always do it later, if you wish? T-The showing around, I mean.”
Draggka glanced down to Spike, who was already wandering from her side, sniffing the air and looking around with intent curiosity, and she chuckled.
“Tink ya better show me around before Spike does.” She grinned, nodding to her companion. Khadgar followed her gaze, and chuckled.
“So I see. Alright then.”
Left off of the living room was Khadgar’s study, which heaved with even more books and magical artifacts and papers of all sorts, like a slightly larger, less tightly packed version of his tower in Draenor. The study window looked out onto the main city of Dalaran, visible from his desk, the wood covered in ink stains. Right off of the living room was the kitchen; small, and with a suspiciously well stocked pantry off to the side. It was clean, though Draggka noted some neglected washing up in the sink, and that the room hadn’t really seen much use recently. She silently vowed to put an end to that, if Khadgar didn’t mind her using it.
The bedroom was north of the living room, and contained a generous double bed that made Draggka smirk; the archmage had blushed and stuttered that all the Council members had big beds for luxury, so they could sprawl if needed, and it wasn’t for consorts and mistresses, honest. There was a generous amount of windows here, one looking over the city and the other looking out at the sky behind the Violet Citadel. A door situated in the far non-Dalaran corner of the room led to the washroom, almost hidden by said wardrobe.
Many books were also scattered about here, as well as it being as equally plush as the room south of it, only this also contained a wardrobe and chests of drawers that made the room look more domestic than the others. It reminded the hunter that it was Khadgar’s refuge, not just the house base of the Leader of the Kirin Tor.
“Nice place ya have here.” Draggka said, when the wizard was finished showing her around. “I like it.”
“You do?” Khadgar’s blue eyes seemed to spark with joy. “I’m glad. I was hoping, well,” he blushed brightly as he led her back to the living room, Spike trotting past his legs to further explore the apartment. “W-Well, that you’d, p-perhaps...”
“Perhaps...?” She prompted.
“...Perhaps...you’d like to stay here? L-Like a second home. I-If you want it.” The archmage glanced away, his blush starting to rival the colour of the couch, and creeping up to his ears. “I-I mean, I know it’s not really your thing, city life, a-and I know Trueshot Lodge is more suited to hunter like yourself, but-”
His stammering was silenced by her gentle finger on his lips.
“Khadgar,” she said, smiling warmly, “I’d love to.”
He blinked.
“You, you would?” When she nodded, he beamed, seeming to lose almost three quarters of his age in seconds. “That’s wonderful! I’ll set you up with a key and make space for your stuff and-” He stopped, frowning. “Bugger. I hadn’t thought how I’m going to move your stuff into here. And I need to-”
“Khadgar, it be fine!” Draggka laughed, grabbing his hands. “It be fine. I don’t be havin’ much to my name, and it already be in da bank or carried wit me anyway, though I were makin’ a place in da Lodge for myself. But I don’t need to be movin’ in all at once. If ya make me a space, I can be leavin’ tings here over time. Den no-one will be seeing anyting dat makes dem suspicious. No need fer a rush. Da world not be ending ‘cos I don’t be having my stuff here, right?”
Khadgar nodded slowly, absorbing her words.
“Yes...yes, you’re right, my dear. So long as we have each other, materials are, well, immaterial.” He smiled. “Now, sit. Do you want anything to drink? A tea, wine, water?”
“No, I be fine, tanks.” Draggka smiled back, waving the request off. “I just be needing to be getting da weight off my feet.”
“Understandable, what with you going through Deathwing’s old lair in bare feet.” The mage said pointedly as the troll settled onto the couch with a sigh, placing her unstrung bow, quiver and pack to the side.
“It not be like I be standin’ on lava or anyting.” Draggka replied, tucking her feet up under herself, as Khadgar sat beside her. “We trolls be used to it.”
“Somehow.” He commented dryly. A pause. “So. Huntmaster of the Unseen Path.”
“Yeah.”
The mage grinned.
“So? That’s incredible. People are finally realizing that you’re one of, if not the greatest hunter Azeroth has ever seen,” he said. “I’d say that’s an achievement.”
Draggka smiled lopsidedly, a slight flush under her fur.
“Just because dey decided to make me da leader because I be having Allera’s bow don’t make me da best hunter ever. Afta all, dere be other hunters working to get other, legendary weapons to fight against da Legion. I not be special. Just lucky.”
“I disagree with you not being special.” Khadgar replied. “You’re certainly special, in your skill, your personality, just being you. After all, no-one has stolen my heart before.” He grinned at her, eyes twinkling. “But okay, maybe I was exaggerating a bit. Slightly.” His grin cooled to a smile, and he stretched an arm to rest over the couch behind her. “But the last I heard, after you were taken to Trueshot Lodge and made leader of the Unseen Path, you were contacted by one of the Highmountain tauren there. Tell me about what happened, and how you got the Hammer?”
Draggka smiled, leaning into him.
“Sure. So, afta I were inducted into da Unseen Path, and Ohn’ahra appeared in da sky...”
