Chapter 6

Mirage on the Flats

It was inhuman. It traveled tirelessly, never once slowing its pace. It maintained a deliberately slow trek as it followed its pray across the blank, reflective flats in the southern Thousand Needles, the Shimmering Flats. It had been shadowing them for hours, first catching sight of them as they left a smoking pile of something the creature had never seen before. Then again, in its short lifespan, it had not seen much at all, especially anything that mattered. All that mattered was them.

Find Stefan Dreis. Find Guro'jintal. Kill Stefan Dreis. Kill Guro'jintal.

It had found both. But the Shadowfiend had enough of a heart to be cruel, and decided his master's orders could be carried out in due time. Until then, it would enjoy its time in the corporeal world, before it would have to return to the endless depths of the Twisting Nether from whence its foul soul had come. Elsewhere, its twin was hunting a similar prey. But the Shadowfiend was not sure if his doppleganger had as much of a heart as he did.

---

"Blistering arse sores, Koramosh! This thing is bumpier than a Storm Lizard in mating season!"

"My apologies, Stefan. I've been in need of new shocks for the past week, but haven't had the resources to purchase them!" replied Koramosh.

"New what?"

"Nevermind!"

Guro'jintal laughed at the exchange. He was sure "shocks" was an engineering term, and had no idea what it meant. But the exchange was humerous nonetheless. The trio sat atop a large, boxy device that resembled a wagon in every way, except that it was not drawn by a horse. Instead, thick clouds of smoke were constantly being expounded into the air behind the contraption, no doubt powering the loud engine that turned the wheels beneath them. In consequence, the entire vehicle shook violently, making a slight dip in the road seem as if they had just crossed a fissure with a ten foot height difference. One thing was for sure, any passerby would have laughed at the purely comical appearance of the thing, and the passengers who were constantly bouncing up and down in the silliest of fashions.

"Tell me, Stefan, what brings you to the heart of Horde territory? It is dangerous for a Human in these times, is it not?" inquired Koramosh

"Perhaps, but I've made many a friend among the factions. Think of me as a middle man," replied Stefan. "I am seeking revenge against my lover's murderer. And I believe I will find him here, on Kalimdor."

"Chivalrous, indeed, Stefan! I can understand what you must be going through right now, beside the obvious discomforts," replied Koramosh. Stefan couldn't help but snicker when the Orc turned to look at him through a pair of driving goggles that seemed just a bit too small for the Orc's head.

"You have a woman of your own, Koramosh?"

"Aye. Well, once did. Cute lass," he said, trailing off.

"I'm sorry, Koramosh."

"Oh it's not your fault! She was cute, but she couldn't seem to tell the difference between the break pedal and the accelerator! Drove her buggy right into a wall, she did!"

Feeling a hint of sin, Stefan laughed. Luckily, he was joined by Guro'jintal and Koramosh, so the awkward moment passed.

"You know, I haven't met those of my own race quite as entertaining as you or Guro here," chuckled Stefan.

"That's because everyone knows the Orc'll do it better!" said Koramosh.

"Ah, but can 'yah grow 'yerself back, mon?" countered Guro'jintal.

"Well at least I know my breath smells better than the two of yours combined!" said Stefan. They all roared in laughter, fighting against the loud engine.

"Hah! I like you Stefan, you're alright, for a Human," said Koramosh, giving him a thumbs up.

The contraption lurched  violently as it hit something on the road, which replied with a cry of pain.

"Whoops! Sorry mates, think I just ran over a hyena!"

---

By the middle of the afternoon, they arrived at a small race track at the center of the Shimmering Flats, where a small band of Gnomes and Goblins tested their mettles in contests of engineering prowess. As Stefan and the others hopped out of the vehicle, several onlookers stared at the odd trio. Perhaps it was their random assortment of cultures, or the fact that they had a certain spasmic bounce to their step. Either way, they had all the attention for the moment. One brave Goblin came up to them, and was eyeing Koramosh's vehicle with what seemed to be admiration, but most likely covetous envy.

"Nice wheels!" it squeaked. The Orc merely grunted in reply as it pried the goggles from its face. Rims were left in their place, adding to their already comical appearance.

"Looks like you need new shocks, though."

"Shut your little trap, you twerp! Go bother someone else!" shouted Koramosh, taking a swipe at the little greenskin's head. It scuttled off.

"Easy, Koramosh. The little guy was just being friendly," said Stefan, slapping a hand onto the Orc's shoulder.

"Gobbos, friendly? Hah! You don't know the little buggers well then, Stefan. They've got their own agenda," replied Koramosh.

Stefan thought back to the times when he had been hunting Origazz. He knew some of their kind, and was reluctant to believe Koramosh, even though he was probably right.

"So what we doin' here, Stefan?" asked Guro'jintal, looking around uneasily. The Troll was even more untrusting of technology and its devotees than Stefan was.

"I've got an old friend here, who I think may lend us some aid. The last time he wrote he still had a job here," said Stefan, scanning the small encampment.

Amidst the cacophany of clanging and banging, one sound stood out amongst it all. A deep, resonating boom was coming from the Gnome's side of the track. He probably should have started there, but Stefan was very off balance from the ride. He was not sure if he could make it there without falling flat on his face.

"I think I've spotted him. Well, at least I think I hear him."

"Lead the way!" said Koramosh, giving Stefan a hearty slap on the back. It nearly tipped him over. When they arrived, the source of the loud noise became evident.

A bipedal walking machine, similar to the tree cutters designed by Goblins but with Gnomish design written all over it, sat patiently as it was battered by one of the largest metal mallets Stefan had seen in quite a while. But it was the person wielding it that caught his attention. More specifically, it was a Dwarf. He was standing atop an elevated platform of sorts, and was winding up for another swing. The rippling muscles across the Dwarf's arms were imposing, and it was pointless to mention the strength that bulged fromm his topless form. The Dwarf's skin had long browned over from the intense sun of the Shimmering Flats, and was shiny from the sweat of his labors.

The Dwarf swung. The mallet impacted squarely on a shoulder pad of the machine, and on the other side, a Gnome shrieked in surprise as the opposite shoulderpiece it was holding onto bounced free of the machine and landed in the sand. The Dwarf uttered a loud and textured curse, letting the hammer fall to the floor.

"Gearsavvy! You expect me 'tah work with this lousy runt? Gimme' a stunty with a little bone in his back and some muscle on his arm!" shouted the Dwarf. He turned as Stefan and the others neared, looking blankly at the man for a moment. Then his face lit up as he recognized Stefan, and leapt off the platform.

"STEFAN, OLD BEAN!" he shouted. The Human's only reply was a wide-eyed stare before the Dwarf's thick frame tackled him to the floor. He fell over in a plume of dust. Guro'jintal and Koramosh laughed.

"How 'yeh been, sport?" asked the Dwarf, pulling Stefan into a headlock and rubbing his scalp furiously with a knuckled fist.

"I've been better," sputtered Stefan. "Yourself?"

"Dandy, after seein' you, mi'lad!"

The Dwarf rolled off of the prone Stefan, and helped him back to his feet. After dusting himself off, Stefan turned to face Guro'jintal and Koramosh.

"Gentlemen, may I introduce Gordreck Stonefist. Gordy, this is Guro'jintal, and Koramosh," introduced Stefan, respectively. They exchanged pleasantries and strong handshakes.

"Glad ta' meet y'all! So what's the occassion?" asked Gordreck.

"Well Gordy, I'm in a bit of a mess. See, there's this b*****d of an Eredar I want to kill, but I just haven't got the--"

"Muscle?" finished Gordreck. There was a twinkle in the little Dwarf's eye.

"Yeah, that's it."

"Look no further, mi'lad! I'll only be a minute, got 'teh get me trusty weapon, and me stash 'o booze!" the Dwarf hustled off on his short legs, speeding through the sand with practiced ease. Guro'jintal looked quizzically at the hammer that Gordreck had dropped and never picked up.

"Is that not his weapon?" he inquired. Stefan laughed.

"No, no Guro. He's a Dwarf," said Stefan, watching Gordreck reappear with the booze in a sack over his shoulder, and an obscenely large battle axe over the other. "He wields an axe."

Guro'jintal visibly exhaled in relief. "Glad he on my side."

"Me too," echoed Stefan.