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| Details |
| Author: | Disknight |
| Summary: | An investigation team including Berdie, Sil, Ally, Atley, and Lathrik head down to Stranglethorn Vale to pick up on their lead of Rozalin being captured by an orc. |
| Rating: | M for Mature 17+ |
Arc: Cobalt Manhunt
A group of Cobalt members meet in Stranglethorn Vale to look for their missing member, Rozalin, who has been reportedly kidnapped by an orc.
Bertrand Aspenwood seems to have left his happy-go-lucky demeanor at home today. He looks neutral already, and his hair is not in a ponytail but fully tied up in a man-bun. The Aspenwood combat bun means business, this is known. He wears his Cobalt Company tabard over his armor.
Alaisa is in dark blue and black leathers, without her tabard. Perhaps it isn't just Cobalt Company she's representing today.
Atley arrives in his dark red armor and Cobalt Company tabard. He chews on strips of salted jerky. His massive sword has been sharpened and slung over his back, Lordaeronian shield polished with extreme, almost obsessive attention to detail.
He spots Alaisa and Bertrand and grunt as he chews, quiet and attentive, all but radiating an aura of potential energy. "My lady. My lord. Good evening."
Bertrand salutes Dane automatically. "Good evening, Sir Atley."
Alaisa raises a hand in a half-wave. "Hey."
Atley crisply returns the salute.
Sil arrives in his usual leather armor, Cobalt Company tabard over all. He notes the other three and sidles over quietly.
"Hi, everybody. Anybody heard anything new?" Sil asks, concern evident in his expression. "I've been trying to think of why she'd still be alive, if an orc got her, and I can't… maybe there's something we don't know?"
Lathrik arrives at a casual walk, thumbs stuck into his belt, wearing the full armor and tabard of the Stormwind Guard. He looks loose and relaxed, but his usual smile is a bit more subdued today. “Cobalt,” he greets, joining the group.
Atley finishes off his jerky and dusts off his hands before inserting them into his gauntlets. "My gut tells me it's Orgrimmar orcish slave trade at work. She's a fine pit fighter, and I warrant some of the greenskins have heard of her." He waves a hand. "Regardless of whether or not she's innocent, she will face the king's justice, or the king's mercy, not suffer torment for the sake of greenskin amusement."
"Sil," and then, "Dinnsfield," Bertrand greets, nodding to them.
Atley looks to Lathrik, squints, eyes his tabard, then nods and grunts.
"I have my theories," Alaisa says, and doesn't elaborate. She doesn't sound like she's going to, either. "We'll see."
"If we find them," Sil says. "I'm pretty good at scouting, but I'm not a tracker. Birdie, you got that part under control?"
Lathrik raises his eyebrows, eyeing Bertrand for confirmation. "We know where to start, then?"
Birdie nods. "We've got somewhere to start, yes - the place where the Seahawks were allegedly attacked. We'll see how much of a trail the orc left when we get there."
Before long the group comes down to a since abandoned campsite off the beaten path of the main road south to Booty Bay. The damage is several days old now, but there are clear signs of conflict from patches of trampled foliage as well as scorch marks and big scars on a few of the surrounding trees.
"Looks like the place, for sure," Sil says, looking at the damage. "Any idea from this how many orcs we're looking for? Might be more than one, to take on a mercenary group. Then again, I didn't get the feeling they were really world-tier or anything. More of a local group."
"Being stomped by one orc is embarrassing enough that if there were more, I feel like they might have said," Ally points out.
Birdie rubs his hands together and gets to work, examining the campsite and trying to pick up a trail.
Atley marches over to a tree and inspects the scorch marks, running a gauntlet over the charred bark to rub the substance between his fingertips.
Lathrik tries not to move around too much, to keep the trail as unobscured as possible. He watches Atley examine the scorch marks.
Through all the chaos of the tracks around the place there are a few tracks that stand out. Namely a set of huge footprints that lead off and to the east.
Atley tongues the inside of his cheek. "Not torchfire," he growls, catching Lathrik's gaze.
"Magical, then?" Lathrik asks.
Atley grunts. "I warrant. Happened fast, by the look of it. Fire or lightning."
The scorch marks upon closer inspection don't all appear to be the same. Some appear to be from concentrated blasts of fire while others show arcing paths as if they had been struck by lightning.
Atley perks up faintly and grunts, tapping a zig-zaggy pattern left on the wood of a nearby tree. "Has the look of a shaman." He completely misses the footprints, not keen enough of eye.
"Don't s'pose our Seahawks had any shamans among 'em?" Lathrik asks, lightly.
At that, Atley thoughtfully raises his brows and looks around at everyone else.
Sil steps over, looking at the zigzag pattern. "My guess would be no. Shamans are draenei or dwarves, and I didn't get the sense they were diverse? I could be wrong, though. Maybe they've got a shaman or maybe our orc's one."
"They don't," Alaisa says.
"Well, this isn't subtle," Bertrand says, and begins following the footprints. "I only see one pair. Could've been carrying Roz, though."
Atley flicks his gaze to Bertrand and moves to place his boot directly next to the print, comparing sizes.
Even a man of Atley's stature looks small compared to a big footprint like this. Whoever left this clearly wasn't human.
Atley grunts. "This is an orc. One, by the looks of it. We ought to discuss wot' we're to do when we *find* him. I'll ask once to hand Roz over, and if they refuse, I mean to kill it." He looks to the others upon his suggestion.
"That's fair," Lathrik says, nodding. "Now, I dunno much about shamans, I've never worked with one. Anything we need to know? Can they see us with the wind or somethin'?"
The footprints continue off for a ways until they are joined by large pawprints and then the footprints disappear again.
Bertrand looks a little baffled by this change in the track. "Is this also a shaman thing?" he asks, pointing down. "Do they turn into animals like druids?"
"Not sure. I've never seen one do it, but I don't know that many. But on the plan, I think we should go for stealth first," Sil suggests. "Like, maybe Birdie and I go in first, see if we can slip her out without any kind of fight. Then, you know, the orc can face justice later maybe."
"If you're caught, that leaves us split, and we won't have the opportunity for doin' any askin' nice," Lathrik says. "How confident are ye?"
Atley shakes his head. "That's a warg. A *riding* warg. Fully grown. It's the mount." He starts marching off after the tracks.
Atley grunts back at Lathrik and looks to Sil. "And have you got any way to warn us? A flare or something?"
Sil follows behind. "If we're caught, the rest move in. The orc won't be expecting it."
"I'm not at all confident that Rozalin will want to go back with us," Bertrand says.
Atley grunts inquiringly and a bit skeptically at Bertrand, looking to him.
Sil stumbles a little at that. "What? Why wouldn't she?"
"She's on the run from the law, aye? Girl like that might not realize who 'er friends are," Lathrik says.
Atley grunts and nods at Lathrik. "She may not be in her right mind, but she's better off as nearly anything other than an orcish slave. If that is the case, we will free her from it."
The tracks continue on deep into the jungle until they eventually reach the mountains on the eastern edge of the peninsula. The large footprints re-emerge. Evidently the rider dismounted to scale the mountain.
"Rozalin knows an orc shaman," Alaisa says after some time. "The healer from her underground fighting circuit."
Bertrand looks at her, surprised. "What are the odds?"
"Knows," Lathrik repeats. "They friendly?"
Sil pauses. "Yeah, I've seen him. But why would a fighting ring healer come to the jungle to kidnap her? She was a pretty good prize fighter."
"Looks like we're climbing, you lot." Atley tightens his shield strap and begins to scale the mountain as he listens to the others.
"Was it a kidnapping, or a rescue?" Lathrik asks, "And where d'you suppose a 'friendly' orc might be takin' 'er?" He follows Atley up the mountain.
Alaisa shrugs. Looks like they're climbing.
On their way up they quickly notice the tracks seem to be veering off toward a worn dirt path. They seem to be getting close.
Atley pauses and draws his sword and shield, looking back at the others.
"Maybe somewhere neutral?" Sil suggests, climbing with the ease of experience. "Like… Shattrath. Or Dalaran?"
"P'raps, though she's still wanted by Stormwind for questioning." Atley says.
"Well, he's got a long bleedin' way to go for either of those," Lathrik murmurs, drawing his own weapons. "We got someone who could scout it first, report back? I wanna know her state, or if she's even with 'im still."
"That's you," Ally says to Sil. "If you're comfortable taking that risk."
Atley glances back at Sil. "Can give you ten minutes. If you're not back by then, we'll advance." he posits.
"Yeah, I can do that," Sil nods. "I'll just look - I won't talk to her, unless it looks like I could get her clean away. Sound good?"
Atley grunts.
Bertrand nods.
"Take care, mate, holler if you're caught," Lathrik says, nodding.
Sil nods, and slips into the shadows, moving ahead in search of the camp.
He advances up the path. It continues on for a short while until it reaches a bend leading into a small clearing with a pond shimmering in the sunlight. The moment he rounds the corner, however, he finds himself face to face with an orcish totem.
Sil stops before going any further, trying to see if there's any visible sign of what the totem might be doing.
The totem thrums quietly. It feels like there is a gentle breeze surrounding it that feels around its surroundings. Perhaps a sentry totem.
Sil backs away quietly and returns to the group. "I think stealth approach is out. There's some kind of totem alarm system set up."
"Alright, next up, diplomacy," Lathrik says. "D'you know how far forward he placed the alarm? I'd like to avoid tippin' our hand completely. We could send a couple, try to negotiate, and if it falls through, the rest jump in."
Atley looks between them with a glare.
"I can point it out, maybe two go in and the rest stay hidden out of range?" Sil looks around at the group. "Who's got the best chance talking down an orc?"
"Us, probably," Alaisa says, gesturing between herself and Sil. "I'm a translator. You're nice."
"Aye, one of you, an' take him with ye," Lathrik says, nodding to Atley.
Atley grunts. "Any sudden movements, and we're taking his head off." He seems to nod in agreement with Lathrik.
"Okay, two out of us three, I'm in for that," Sil nods. "Alaisa, you can take lead with Dane, since you speak Orcish?"
Alaisa shrugs. "Sure. Let's go." She starts down the path.
As the group goes down the path and rounds the corner, their target looks to be in plain view. He stands in front of the mouth of a cave resting his hands on the butt end of a large axe with its head resting on the ground. He is clad in heavy purple armor, one of the choice colors of the Warsong Clan and has a wolf cowl pulled down from his head revealing his long black braid and stark features. He is average height for an orc, but is extraordinarily burly even for his race. Those who have seen him before would recognize him as Crim Ragefang.
"Cobalt Company." His deep, booming voice calls out in perfect common, "So you've finally come."
"I was right," Alaisa mutters, before raising her voice. "We have. How is Rozalin?"
"Still recovering from a concussion, but otherwise well. She's resting inside." He glances to the cave behind him. As his gaze drifts back ahead of him, however, he locks eyes with Atley, "Dane the Red. It seems that fate has allowed us to meet once again."
Atley narrows his eyes, and goes still, recognizing a threat. He turns his head to the side and maintains the squint. "Crim Ragefang, Hero of the Mag'har."
He upnods and points at the orc from afar, otherwise not closing the distance between them — yet. "You were expecting us?"
"I was." Crim waves a hand out toward the pond and the reflection in the water changes to show the abandoned Seahawk campsite, "I would have explained the situation in a less dramatic fashion, but things seem to have become rather complicated for you and our mutual comrade."
"I'm Ally Lysander." Ally smiles. "Cobalt Company's going to be paying for her lawyer. Can we talk to her?"
"Well met, Ally Lysander." Crim grunts, "I'll go and wake her." He slings the axe across his back and steps toward the cave, "But I'm not just referring to her bounty. The mercenaries I took her from were likely hired by a rival of your founder, Elohad the Enduring. I doubt this will be the end of your troubles."
Atley frowns in thought at this, but otherwise remains motionless.
"Thanks for the heads-up. We got more of her friends along," Ally warns Crim. "Mind if I call 'em?"
Crim grunts in affirmation and goes into the cave to fetch Rozalin. "Do as you will. Your company is known for its great honor."
One eye stays narrowed and fixed on Crim as Atley struggles to work something out in his mind. He looks to Ally and nods, only briefly taking his attention from the burly orcish shaman.
"Great," Alaisa says, and turns behind her. She walks a couple paces and calls, "Sil! It's the shaman from the fighting circuit after all. Crim Ragefang. He rescued Rozalin, I think. Come on, you can come see her."
Bertrand leans over to Sil and mutters, "That sounds like good news? Should we?"
Sil nods. "Yeah, I think we should. Let's go. Doesn't sound like she's under any duress or anything."
"'Ragefang,'" Lathrik repeats. "Bleedin' orcs."
Before long Crim emerges from the cave. Rozalin walks close beside him holding onto his arm with one hand and gripping a large sheathed knife in the other. She has a bandage tied around her forehead and she looks a bit groggy and jittery. She's wearing a set of plain clothes that have some grass and dirt stains on them.
Bertrand approaches, nodding to Alaisa before moving past her. "Roz," he says, and smiles for the first time today.
"Hey, Terri," Sil says with a relieved smile, seeing her alive and able to walk.
Atley tears his gaze off of Crim to assess Roz's injuries. "Who did this to her?" he demands of the hulking orc with a glare.
Lathrik hangs back after joining the others, his eyes narrowed at the orc. He keeps his hands off his weapons, for now.
"It's Rozalin." She corrects Sil and rubs her eyes.
"She was already recovering from injuries when I found her." Crim tries to answer but is interrupted by Rozalin.
"It was the pigs." She says practically spitting out the words, "Did a bit of a number on me earlier." She freezes when she sees Lathrik and his Stormwind tabard, "Wait… hold on, I thought I wasn't s'posed to be in no trouble anymore!" She cowers back behind Crim and holds out the knife in front of her, still sheathed.
Lathrik holds his hands up, a gesture of surrender. "Easy, lass, I'm not here to arrest anyone," he says. If there is a yet, he leaves that part off.
Atley retracts his head in clear disgust to Rozalin clinging to Crim. "T'was the mercenaries, was it?" He peers at Crim for a moment. "Well done stopping them." he growls at Crim. "She's due in Stormwind, for questioning. We've not come to punish her, but to collect and investigate."
"Rozalin," Sil repeats under his breath. "I don't think you're in trouble, exactly, but we've got to talk to people, clear things up. Figure out what actually happened to…" Sil trails off. "I'm real sorry for your loss."
Rozalin still looks a bit wary, but slowly comes back out from behind Crim.
Crim grunts to Atley, "At least some of their members still live. I slowed them down enough to allow you to meet me here, but it's too soon to say if you have seen the last of them."
"Naw, it was actually Stormwind's finest that did the roughing up." Rozalin says bitterly. She narrows her eyes at Lathrik and looks between him and Atley, "We sure I ain't in trouble? I ain't gettin rescued just to get thrown in irons again."
"Cobalt Company's paying for a good lawyer for you," Alaisa says. "Here's how it is. None of us are under any illusions that you actually killed your parents, but you might end up getting sentenced for resisting arrest. That doesn't necessarily mean you getting locked up, it could be community service or paying a fine."
Rozalin seems to settle down a little, but scoffs at Ally's explanation, "A fine, huh? And what money am I supposed to use to pay that?"
"Settle down. The fight isn't over yet, but I don't think these are your enemies." Crim sets a hand on Rozalin's shoulder.
"I'll cover it," Bertrand says to her. "Hey. I'm really sorry about your ma and pa. They didn't deserve it, and that must have been devastating. Have you been eating?"
Atley still stares at Crim for a moment, as if trying to work him out. He finally shakes his head. "You've friends," Atley growls, gesturing to Bertrand. "But you are to return to Stormwind to have the truth revealed."
Lathrik keeps his gaze on the orc, and doesn't rise to her provocations. His agenda does not include making things more difficult, apparently.
Rozalin eases down more and more. All the condolences seem to be getting to her and her eyes grow sullen, "Y-yeah… I… It's still hard to believe this isn't all just some fucked up dream…" She sniffles and wipes her face with an arm, "And yeah, I been eatin. Got some fish and fruit here."
Birdie approaches her carefully. "I bet," he says. "Bunch of folks in Cobalt were worried, you know? Jo sent us to come find you."
Atley tights the grip on his sword as Birdie approaches Crim and Roz, but otherwise remains still, and quiet.
Lathrik's gaze sharpens as well, but he still makes no move towards his weapon. Maybe he's that confident about his draw speed.
"Really?" Rozalin looks at Berdie, "I thought y'all were gonna cut me loose for sure."
Crim places a hand on her back to urge her forward. He gives Atley and Lathrik a knowing look but doesn't react otherwise.
Sil doesn't seem concerned. He's just happy we're all friends here.
"If ye don't mind keepin' your hands where I can see 'em, Mister…Ragefang, was it?" Lathrik says conversationally. "Kingdom o' Stormwind's not exactly on friendly terms with your Horde, as I'm sure you're aware."
Atley grunts.
Bertrand nods. "We protect our people, Roz," he says.
“If I meant to harm the woman I wouldn’t have waited until you were here to witness it.” Crim says bluntly.
“Knock it off.” Rozalin stomps on Crim’s foot, “And you too.” She directs to Lathrik, “If not for him I might be hangin right now.” She settles herself down and turns to Berdie again, “I’m startin to see that more and more.” She even smiles a little bit now.
Atley squints at the apparent closeness of Roz and Crim, head faintly raised.
It's clear by the intensity of his gaze that Lathrik doesn't believe Crim in the slightest, but he falls quiet all the same.
"That's Lathrik Dinnsfield," Birdie says to Roz, gesturing at the guard. "He's Stormwind's investigator on your case, he's a real decent guy."
Lathrik lifts his eyebrows at the claim. "I dunno I'd go that far," he says. "I'm just doin' my job."
"You do it right," Birdie says to him, and flashes him a smile.
"Alright, alright, stop distractin' me," Lathrik grumbles.
“I’ll have to take your word for it.” Rozalin says. She takes a small step toward the group.
Sil smiles hopefully.
"Just to cover our bases here," Lathrik says, "where's the dog?" By dog, he presumably means wolf.
Birdie holds a hand out to Rozalin. "Pretty sure my word's worth a lot. I'm an Aspenwood. You'll have a fair trial, Roz." It sounds like a promise.
Roz warms at the extended hand but hesitates and looks back at Crim for a second, “Bein awfully charming for a married man, eh?” She teases, “But I ain’t trustin you because yer an Aspenwood. I’m trustin you because yer Berdie.”
Crim calls inside the cave, “Drel!” And a huge, horse sized wolf trots out and comes to stand in between Crim and Rozalin.
"Aye, lovely, sorry I asked," Lathrik mutters, staring at it.
Sil looks at the wolf in amazement. "Whoa, he's the size of a horse!"
Birdie laughs. "Gotta do something worthwhile with my rich kid privilege," he says. His attention turns to Drel and he raises his brows, impressed. "Magnificent."
Alaisa has faded into the background, as she tends to do.
Atley casually sizes the wolf up with a grunt, though he still remains wary of Crim.
Drel looks very alert with all the new faces and smells, but he remains calm.
“Thank you.” Crim says to Berdie, “We Warsong take pride in our wolves.”
Atley's gaze falls to an ornament on Crim's belt.
“So… what now?” Rozalin asks.
"If you got any stuff to pack, you might want to pack that. Say your goodbyes to your… friend?" Birdie guesses.
"How's your concussion?" Alaisa asks. "You feel okay to walk for a bit? It's downhill from here."
"You return with us to Stormwind, with my word that you'll not be mistreated," Atley growls, before looking to Crim. "And you're permitted to go free for saving her life." Those last words seem difficult for him to get out.
"Make no mistake, this is a one-time pass," Lathrik agrees. "I see ye again, I'll treat ye the same as any other orc."
Atley grunts emphatically and nods once.
“All I got to my name is what you see here.” Rozalin admits with a sigh. She takes the knife and hands it to Crim.
“Keep it.” Crim says to Rozalin.
Rozalin blinks but soon smiles and does as she’s asked, “My head’s feelin a lot better than it was. I can manage.”
Crim gives Dane and Lathrik a weary grunt, “I didn’t come here looking to fight. I’ll be returning to Kalimdor as soon as this is over.”
Atley grunts again, shorter this time. He shifts his gaze from Crim to Rozalin, searchingly.
“I guess this is goodbye for now then.” Roz looks up at Crim.
Crim grunts, “You have several honorable warriors here giving you their word that you will be unharmed. Go.” He says as gently as someone like him can manage.
“I gonna see you again soon?” Rozalin asks a little wistfully.
Crim shakes his head, “No. That Lescovar you mentioned likely still intends to use you to get to Elohad. Associating with me now only gives him more chances to attack you.”
Atley's expression becomes slightly more neutral with curiosity as he glances between them, gaze occasionally falling to the human skull on Crim's belt.
Rozalin purses her lips and nods. When she notices everyone staring at her she blushes and yells, “What are y’all looking at?!”
Crim notes Atley looking at the skull on his belt. “I knew I could trust you to handle this situation honorably. Men such as yourself are a credit to the Alliance.”
Atley deadpans Crim for a long moment before he inclines his head. He hesitates for a time, faintly bewildered but angry about it, looking like he's about to speak, before he turns to the others. "Let's move out."
Lathrik nods to Atley. "Take point, I'll bring up the rear?"
“R-right!” Rozalin scampers forward a bit and then pauses. She gives one more quick look to Crim, “Thanks for all the help, big guy.” And then scampers out to join the rest of Cobalt Company (plus Lathrik).
Crim just grunts for now and watches her and the rest head down the mountain.
Atley grunts at Lathrik and upnods, trudging down the mountain. Once they reach the descend, he crouches faintly, sheathing his sword and shield, guiding himself down with his hands. "Wot' made you think Lord Lescovar had anything to do with all this?" he asks of Rozalin.
“I dunno, Cass said somethin about this Lescovar guy. He hired em to find me or somethin. Payin real good too.” Roz answers.
"They lied about it," Sil says, offering another data point. He keeps an eye on Roz as they descend, just in case she has trouble in her current state. "Said they weren't even following up on the bounty. I was all acting like maybe we could team up, like I was just after the money. They didn't even say it was already done, just 'nope, never heard of that bounty'. Which seems fishy and personal to me, not business-smart."
Birdie stays near Rozalin as well, definitely close enough to catch her if she trips.
Atley grunts and nods. "I'll see to that Captain Jocoza knows. Wot's your state, properly? Will you need to rest before a flight to Stormwind?"
Rozalin seems to be faring pretty well at the moment. It’s hard to say if that’s because her injuries weren’t that severe or Crim’s treatment was effective, but either way she’s able to walk without any issue. “Let’s just get it over with. I need to get outta this damn jungle.”
"We'll see we've got the lawyer in place before any proper questioning," Lathrik says. "And this time, one handlin' ye and askin' the questions'll be a lady."
Atley grunts. He calls back to Lathrik, though keeping his voice at a careful volume given their surroundings. “I’ll assist in escorting her to Stormwind and then relinquish her wholly in your care.”
“Wait, hold on. Where am I gonna be stayin?” Rozalin says, trying to conceal her panic.
"We'll get ye in inn room," Lathrik says. "You're not a criminal 'til the law says, and that's what we're askin' the questions for. If someone is after you, we'll want an eye on ye, but that can be Cobalt if you prefer. So long as you show to the questioning, we've no issue."
Atley grunts.
“I think I’d rather prefer to have someone from Cobalt keepin watch if you don’t mind.” Rozalin says. It’s clear that she does mind.
"We have guest rooms at the Aspenwood Vineyard," Birdie offers. "We no longer have a townhouse in Stormwind, but it's not that far, and it would be quite secure."
Lathrik nods. "Aye, I can track this'un down if he loses ye somehow," he says. And by that, he probably means send a certain worgen after him.
“Y-yeah, I guess that’s fine.” Roz says awkwardly. She doesn’t like taking favors from people, “But wait, what about the farm!?” Now that she’s safe she’s starting to remember all the other things she needs to worry about.
"Your neighbors took the animals in," Birdie says. "Your parents' bodies are currently in a morgue in Stormwind, magically preserved. Once the case is closed and that bounty's taken down you'll be able to give 'em a proper burial."
“What about the corn? Wait and what about my fuckin horse!?!” Rozalin says frantically, “I was in Booty Bay and he’s still there. I ain’t been there to pay to stable him.”
"I'm sure your very prestigious mercenary company can take care of your personal business while we handle things with the law, aye?" Lathrik says.
Rozalin tries to settle down. She stops yelling, but she’s still hyperventilating a little.
Atley perks up at the mention of a horse and frowns. "After I deliver you to Stormwind I'll return to Booty Bay and free the beast. Have him sent to wherever you're saying."
Roz sighs and smiles at Atley, “Shit, thanks a million, Atley. I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to him.”
Atley mutters something unsavory about greenskins and something more savory about horses.
Bertrand nods. "We have room in the stables," he says. "Sir Atley, if you can see that her horse makes it there… much obliged."
Rozalin rubs her temples, “Light, I can’t wait for this to all be over…”
Atley grunts.
Birdie shoots her a sympathetic smile. "I'd say the dangerous part is over. The rest is the dull political part."
Alaisa keeps silent. Whatever thoughts are going on in her head, her face doesn't show any of them.
“I hope you’re right. Sounds like the boss’s friends don’t like to play nice.” Rozalin says dubiously.