The Search

Kras sat up in the big bed they shared that was crammed in the small room of the house in Stormwind. Lena's side of the bed was empty; she'd been missing for weeks. He was hearing something, for certain, he was sure it was her voice. Weak, lost. Desperate. She sounded cold. And confused. Kras sighed.

Arloth had promised the full force of the Shadows if necessary to find one of their leaders. So far, Kras hadn't called in that favor. Every time he would drop in for a progress report at the Ironforge headquarters, he was moments from bringing it up. But he didn't want to bring their personal lives into business. He was never like that, and didn't really want to begin now.

He couldn't get through to her. Whatever had started taking over her mind had blocked off mental contact. She surely hadn't taken a communicator, either, so secure in her magical connection to her people. His mate, and one of the leaders of Shadows, was missing, and it was starting to become dire. Each day that she eluded them was another day that took her further away. Probably literally, in addition to figuratively.

Kras growled in the dark as he eyed the empty space on the bed, then flung off the blankets and pulled on some clothes, grabbing a dagger and a shield from the wall above the bed where he kept them.

The tram was still running between Stormwind and Ironforge, and he fumed for the entire ride, emerging from the tunnel in Tinker Town and marching toward headquarters. Once inside the building, he lit a torch and flung it into a sconce on the wall, grabbing all the maps from a shelf, recognizing Lena's flowy script as she outlined the regions of Pandaria. The newer maps were still smudged and blotched with sketches of mountains and lakes as she traced the terrain. He'd made a quick traverse of the continent and was vaguely familiar with it, but Lena had been out there since the Alliance had landed on the shores, eager to acclimate to the place.

Finding the map he figured would help the most, he rolled and folded, trying to keep it as intact as possible, tucking it into the pouch at his side. He sighed heavily and picked up the torch again, marching out of headquarters and toward another nearby door.

Taking a deep breath and setting his jaw, Kras lifted a fist and pounded heavily on the door. "Arloth!" he bellowed. "Arloth!" He shouted until a burly, grumpy, terse Field Marshal swung open the door. He seemed to be expecting Krastos pounding on his door in the middle of the night. Nhadiya's tired face peeked over the warrior's shoulder, arms wrapping around his waist, and Kras's face softened slightly at the sight of the pregnant priestess. He turned his eyes back to Arloth.

"She tried to get in touch," he said, words tumbling out quickly, "I heard her. She was trying to communicate, but she's weak out there. I don't know how much longer she'll survive."

Arloth nodded and crossed his arms over his bare chest, turning to Nhadi and nodding, sending her back toward the interior of the house. He looked back at Krastos, "Who do you need? We'll wake them and get moving as soon as we can. Before dawn if we can manage it. Go start gathering whatever supplies you need from our stores. I'll join you as soon as I get dressed."