An Engineer's Oath

Yes, it's over. Done, kaput, feshinked, over and finished. That's right, you just spent $60 on a fic that ended... a long time ago.
Fool! Sucker!

This message brought to you by Bioware(c).

Okay, so this is just wrap-up... and more than a bit of a tie-in. Make of it what you will, cuz I'm not telling. Muahhaha.

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"So," Rafe asked quietly after they had dressed, "are you two planning to come back soon?"
"More than likely," Eleam replied, donning her armor one piece at a time. "We'll have to get the return supplies before too long, after all."
She swung her hair around and out of the way, pulling the mail over her chest, and turned to the Goblin, who looked at her contentedly. Yet, she felt that something was wrong under the surface.
"Look," she began, turning fully around to face him, "you were wonderful, Rafe... but this isn't the start of anything, okay?"
"I know," he answered calmly, but she heard the ghost of disappointment in his voice. Not yet, it seemed to tell her.

It was just a fling, she thought coldly, strapping her boots on.
Mmm-hmm, right, came the bemused response for her more rational mind. You keep telling yourself that.
It was! That was nothing more than a well-deserved romp, and I'll be damned if I have to play it off as anything else! her animal instincts shot back furiously, the Warrior picking up one of her shoulder pads.
You're just scared, girl, the devious tinker's rationale easily answered. Too frightened to rely on him, and that's a damn shame. Not to mention a waste, if he's really good enough for you in bed.
Shut the fuck up.

Rafe watched her passively, not getting up to stop her. He knew better, even if he really didn't want her to go. I know it was just sex, he thought, but maybe later, we can make something out of it. Later.
In fact, the only time he rose was after she had slipped the circlet onto her petite brow and placed her shield and hammer in easy reach. "I'll walk you out, at least," he told her, and the Blacksmith made no objections.
They squinted a bit in the afternoon light, both of them having to adjust to the bright rays of the sun. The Gnome smiled genuinely and placed a kind hand on her friend's shoulder.
"I'll see if I can get back here sometime next week," she said, trying to reassure him. Rafe reached up and patted her metal-cased hand with his own gloved mitt and nodded. "If nothin' else, I wanna see the progress you've made on ol' Krunk in there," she said with a giggle.
The sound of her light laughter coaxed a smirk to the Gobin's face. "I'll try not to disappoint," he said firmly, sounding confidant and sure of his skill.

"There's not a whole lot you can do that would, Rafe," she admitted, removing her hand. "You take care 'till I get back, ok?"
The Engineer nodded, running his left hand along his ponytail. "Sure thing. And you make sure not to get into too much trouble, sister," he replied.
The Gnome smiled sweetly and began to walk. "I promise nothing," she told him before turning away.

He stood there, watching her small form shrink into the distance, and choked back the urge to run after her, for reasons he didn't know. Heaving a deep sigh, Rafe walked back inside his abode, determined to improve on his- no, their work.

Kalderin found it nothing short of a miracle that he had managed to pass through Thandol Span undetected by the Dark Iron Dwarves that held the pass in their clutches. Dun Modir, however, was hardly as simple, with well over twice as many fallen Dwarves patrolling the earth.
The Rogue grit his teeth and steeled his nerves, clutching to the unnatural shadows that engulfed his body and hid him from view. Luckily, none of the Shadowcasters had felt his arcane presence as he pulled the latent darkness around him, but he didn't want to see how long he could evade their senses. Slowly, he crept southward, sliding across walls and large rocks when he neared the foul Dwarves, and gliding silently along the roads when he could.

Claris glanced back at the Gnome, who had been unusually quiet during their walk. "Wha's on yer mind, Eleam?" the Paladin asked warmly, slowing to match her friend's steps.
"Nothing much, Clar," she replied, looking down the road steadily, "just been thinking."
"Abou'?" the Dwarf asked, the question trailing off.
The Warrior glance to her left, gazing at the hills near Ironbeard's Tomb before speaking. "I dunno. I was hoping to get some work done when we get back to Ironforge." She huffed lightly and turned her head to the Paladin. "Why didn't we just take the gryphons back?"
"Well," Claris began, "I thought ye might..."

The Dwarf trailed off, looking to the north of the rapidly approaching intersection. There was a Human tearing down the earthen path at a breakneck run, with a sizable mob of small, dark-skinned humanoids chasing him.
"Dark Irons," Eleam said, readying her weapon.
"Aye, but who's the lad, then?" Claris asked herself, even as she freed the large, slightly curved blade from its place behind her armor.
It didn't take long for the man to come into better view, his youthful face flushed with exertion as he tried his best to outrun his aggressors. Eleam glared at the hostile Dwarves that followed him, and began to jog towards him.
"No, get back!" he shouted, sending up a flag of alarm in the Paladin's brain. I can barely see the lad! Howd's he know what we're doin'?

Seeing that he was too far out of their reach, the Dark Irons relented and stopped, glaring at the boy before turning away. He glanced behind him and sighed heavily, slowing to an exhausted stride and finally halting several yards in front of the pair.
He was scraggly and unkempt; his clothes, barely more than disheveled rags, clung desperately to his thin frame. Armed with little more than a cheap dagger, the two women silently wondered how he had manage to live this long.
Even more troublesome was the distinct arcane haze that hovered in the air around him like a thick smoke. Claris wasn't sure if the Gnome felt it, but it worried the Paladin to no end.
"Where, may I ask," Eleam said cautiously, "are you headed in your condition?"
"With any measure of luck," he replied, "Ironforge. I have a friend I need to see."
"An' whom would that be, lad?" the Dwarf asked in a guarded tone.
"Beldan Agrigar," he said through puffed breaths.

The Warrior's eyes lit up. "You wouldn't happen to be Kaldrin, would you?" she inquired.
Reflexively, the boy's eyes narrowed, and he hunched a few inches, showing battle-forged reflexes preparing to strike if needed. "Who's asking?" he retorted, his voice sounding dangerous.
"Relax, there, laddie," Claris said, sheathing her blade and signaling her companion to do the same. "We're no foes of ye. Beldan's me cousin, an' if ye're Kalderin," she informed him, "then ye migh' be needin' ta get back quickly."
The Human relaxed, retuning to a neutral stance. "What, is someone looking for me?" he asked, following the pair as they hastily lead the way back to Menethil.
"Yeah, actually," the Gnome said. "A Rogue a bit taller than you, black leathers and long blades, long blonde hair in a big braid."

His eyes shot wide, an astonished look on his face. "Raxis!" he breathed.
"Friend 'o yers?" the Paladin asked.
"Big understatement," he said flatly.
Eleam nodded. "Then we'd best get back quickly," she noted, breaking into a jog.

"I'm not taking him," Shellei said, glaring at the ragged Human.
"Why not?!" Eleam spouted, looking incredulously at the Gryphon Master.
"He's tainted," she shot back angrily, "and I'm not having any thing with that much arcana near my gryphons!"
The boy's eyes narrowed dangerously, but he remained silent. Claris opened her mouth to speak, but he placed a hand on her shoulder to stop her. Whatever magics he held flared up in anger, making the Dwarf's skin crawl slightly where his hand was.
"It's allright," he said. His voice was calm, but the look he was giving his fellow Human would have killed the woman on the spot, had he the power to.
"I was fully expecting something like this to happen. After all," he continued, the barest hint of venom seeping into his voice, "I shouldn't expect anything less than total bigotry from the likes of Stormwind." Without waiting for another word from anyone, he turned and strode away.

"I expect no kindness from anyone these days," he explained as they passed the entrance to the excavation site. "Not after what happened during the War."
"What happened?" the Gnome asked, but Kalderin stoically shook his head.
"Terror," was all he said, and fell dead silent.

By the time they had reached the North Gate Outpost in snowy Dun Morogh, the sun was beginning its downward journey into the horizon. Even though the boy had no protection against the elements, he shrugged off the cold with no complaint, his steely face showing nothing but impatient determination.
Indeed, the chill mountain air seemed to give him energy, rather than sap it slowly away, and in the cold snow-ridden trails his bare feet stalked along with nary a sound. His wide, focused steps were almost to the point of outpacing the women, but he would stop and glance behind him if he went too far, and waited calmly for them to catch back up. It was the only time his expression softened during their travel.
When they reached the top of the winding path to Ironforge's massive gates, the Human's pace quickened again, setting him into a light run. Claris and Eleam sped up to keep step with him, and the patch he weaved through the crowds of citizens and adventurers was clear as crystal to her; he was heading for Beldan's home.

He stopped at a humble abode in the Mystic Ward, giving a respectful salute to Thiefcatcher Shadowdelve as he passed by. To the Paladin's surprise, the grumpy Dwarf returned the gesture freely. Kalderin rapped his knuckles on the wooden door loudly.
"Ay, who'zzat out'chere?" came the answer.
The boy smiled to no one and spoke in Dwarvish, "A shadow in the mountain."
As if on command, the door swung open, to reveal the single occupant; a black-skinned, red-eyed Dwarf, bedecked in plate mail, holding a thick tome in one hand and a surprised and friendly look on his face. "By th' Light, laddie, I never tought'ah'd see yer tallowy face again!" Beldan shouted, clapping the Human's waist with a large, gauntleted hand.
"An' It's good te see ye too, cousin," he added, nodding towards Claris, "an' of course, good day ter ye, stout Greygear," he continued on seeing Eleam. "Don' jus stand aroun', then! Come inside, ye lot!"

Eleam and Claris sat down wearily, but Kalderin remained standing. "Beld, you wouldn't happen to have a basin and a razor handy, would you?" he asked, thumbing at the scraggly beard on his face.
"Aye, lad," he replied, inclining his head to a room in the back, "go on an' use 'em. I just got finished trimmin' meself, anyway."
Nodding in thanks, the Human walked into the small room and closed the door quietly.
"Quick question," the Warrior said after a thick silence, getting both the Dwarves' attention. "Who's Raxis?"
"One of tha' young lad's best, an' I dare say only, friends," Beldan told her. "They knew each other long before the Third War, and believe me, between those two an' Salah, they always looked like they could'a taken the world if they wanted to."

The Paladins talked between themselves, catching up on the news and each other's health, leaving Eleam to her thoughts. She pondered the connection between the two Humans, trying to figure out the puzzle with too few pieces, when the washroom door opened.
Now the extent of the Human's youth was plain to see. Without the wildly-grown beard and with shortly cropped hair, Kalderin could fool most anyone into thinking he was nothing more than a young farmhand, if it wern't for his serious expression and arcane taint.
"Glad to be rid of that," he mumbled, running a hand along his chin.
Beldan smirked under his own thick beard. "It's not so bad once yeh get used to it, laddie," he joked.

They all exchanged idle chat for a bit, and Kalderin was formally introduced to Claris and Eleam. However, both of the women had other business to attend, and since night had fallen, they needed to get more important things done. Beldan bade them farewell, and once they had left, turned to the Rogue with a worried face.
"Okay, tell me straight, lad," he said, sitting down in a chair across from the boy. "Ye've been gone fer seven whole months, Kalderin. Where've ye been?"
The Human's face drooped in surprise at this. "Seven months?" he asked in shock.
"Aye, lad, and I hope ye've got a good story about it."

"The Sin'Dorei did this to me," he said darkly, glaring at the stone walls. "I don't know what they did, but they made it worse."
"Damnable Bloodlings," Beldan muttered. An' I can feel that yer taint has grown again."
The boy closed his eyes, choking back any emotion. "They pumped me full of magic down there, Beld. I barely eat or drink anymore," he said darkly, "and sleep... well, let's just say that what little rest I get is no longer peaceful."
The Dwarf glared at nothing in particular, but didn't speak.
"They were trying to call it out, Beld, and I think they may have succeeded. I blacked out after they came down, and when I came to, the place was wrecked."
"Where were ye bein' held?" the Paladin finally asked.
A quick shudder of revulsion and pure hatred crossed the Human's face. "The old Sunshade mansion," he spat.

"What?!" Beldan said in shocked amazement. "But, I thought Taril was-"
"Taril wasn't calling the shots," Kalderin cut in, "Damiran was, and he hated me, remember?"
The repentant Dark Iron growled menacingly. "I KNEW it! Should'ave brained that smarmy lit'le bastard when I 'ad the chance!"
"The past is past, Beld," the boy sighed, even if he partially agreed. "Besides, don't forget the Virtues."
"Oh, don' even start with me on tha', lad," the Paladin chuckled without mirth. "What they did was against the Virtue of Respect ta begin with! Ne'er should ye destroy another's happiness-"
"-In order to enhance your own," the Rogue finished. "I may not put much faith in the Light, but I did my homework."

"Look, friend," the boy said, "this is what it boils down to; I know Andromai's looking for me, but..." he trailed off, trying to find the words.
"But?" Beldan said, coaxing it out of him.
"But, I don't want to endanger him, either," he said, a wave of sad resolution radiating from him. "I don't have much left in this world, and I don't want to lose him, either. Not after Salah."
"Aye, lad. I figured ye'd say tha'," the Dwarf agreed. "If yer mind's set, then lemme get something fer ya."
Beldan rose from his seat and walked to a large dresser, one that took up a quarter of the wall. It opened smoothly, and the Paladin tossed a tightly closed bag to his friend.
"Yer old leathers an' gear," he said without looking at him. "I don' expect ye te do much with jus' yer bare hands and a few scraps of flour sacks to yer name, lad."

It took only minutes for the Rogue to strap on his gear. The colors of the armor were very mis-matched and haphazard, but it had one important thing; a cowel to cover his face. The boy lingered on if for a moment, and tried something. Focusing his magic, he called the shadows out, and tried to bind them to the leather. Much to his surprise, the response was immediate, and he felt the subtle tug of arcana towards the hood.
Donning it, he didn't need to see the effects; he already felt the darkness cover the top half of his face, partially obscuring his identity. "Let's see them persecute a faceless name," he said softly.
"You can bet yer last copper they'l try, Kalderin," the Dwarf replied. "But before ye go, I want'chye ta remember somethin'." He locked the boy's gaze, his eyes replaced by two shining motes of crystalline light that conveyed all the emotion he needed. "No matter what happens, fer good or ill," Beldan told him softly, "me home will always be open to ye."

The Rogue smiled kindly, the two "eyes" narrowing at their outer edges, mimicking the boy's own eyes as they raised sadly. "Thank you, Beldan. I won't stop by often," he said ruefully, "but I won't forget your offer of hospitality. I'm not sure if you realize how much it means to me."
"Ye've always been looking fer a place to call home, boy," the Paladin reminded him. "That was one o' the firs' things ye told me. I know ye won't really be satisfied with me place, but if it helps ye, then tha's more'n enough fer me."
The boy walked toward the door, but hesitated, pulling a shard of Malachite from his cloak, and focusing. "Give this to Andromai when he gets back," he instructed, handing the gem to Beldan, who nodded.
"Take care, friend," the Human said sadly.
"Worry abou'tcherself, lad. Don' go dyin' on us," he replied.

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Three sharp knocks, and he knew that the other Rogue had arrived. Beldan opened the door, and Andromai Raxisalian hurried in, the black mask pulled down, as he always wore it when not "on the job," as he put it. "They said he came back," the Human said in a single breath.
"Aye, lad," the Dwarf told him, "he's already come an' gone."
Raxis stood for a moment, looking stunned. "Gone?" he finally said, a hurt and betrayed look on his youthful face.
The Paladin nodded, handing the green crystal to the young Human. When his uncovered fingers touched the surface, a light shined from within the gem, and Kalderin's voice sounded in the room, both friendly and deeply saddened at once.

Hey, Raxis... I know you wanted to see me before I left, but... I had reasons, buddy. They're still after me, just like I knew they were. I don't think they'll ever stop chasing me. Not until I'm dead... or I find a way to free myself from this hell.
Raxis looked at the gem as if it were some strange, unfathomable creature as it continued dejectedly. I left quick to keep you safe, because I felt them here, in Dun Morogh. You know I can sense them, but this was different. Painful. I've been changing again, you can ask Beld about the how and why later. But one thing's for certain... I have no place in the Alliance now, not after what happened. I'm too close to being a monster in their eyes. All I have now is this drive, this thirst. I WILL find a cure. And when I do, we can catch up on everything I missed.
I know it sucks. Believe me, I don't want to leave the only people I trust behind. But I don't have any other options, man. If this keeps you safe, then all the better. We lost Sal, and damnit, I'm not losing you. Not like that.
There was a long pause. The vice went silent, but the stone continued to glow. Finally, it spoke again. Well, this thing won't take much more, so I'll leave it at that. There was a leaden, heavy sigh from the boy's voice. Live, Raxis. Whatever you do, live, buddy. Please.
The gem went silent, and the light flickered and faded into nothing.

And far away, just past Algaz Station, he knew his message was sent. As he strode towards the Wetlands again, alone, he did something that he hadn't done in nearly a year.
Silently, and with none but the moon to see him, Kalderin wept.

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