(2025-10-08) Clandestine Meeting

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Author:	Alli
Summary:	Maisha meets up with Ionala inside Stromgarde Keep to discuss recent events and make a few plans. Ionala may make a good spy. Maisha is more of a meddler. ~2200 words
Rating:	T for Teen

Arc: Struggles of Stromgarde

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Maisha walks along a hallway designed just a little too tall for a dwarf to feel comfortable in, trying not to look nervous. She is nervous, though, despite all her practice in investigations with the Cobalt Eye. This Keep has instilled in her a certain paranoia, as she looks at each person as a possible assassin, and now if she isn't careful she'll expose a dear friend to those who wish her harm.

Except she doesn't, because the hall is empty, and Maisha makes it to the little storeroom where she arranged to meet the stealthy Ionala. It's a little place, maybe five paces across in each direction. There are bags of grain on shelves lining the walls and a small window bathing the whole space in a dim light.

Not long after, a tidily dressed servant carrying a basket in the crook of one elbow enters. She sets the basket down directly in front of the door and smiles at Maisha. "I'm glad you're here. I need a minute to rest my legs—I have beaten six rugs today and I barely escaped a turn in the laundry."

Maisha breaks into a relieved smile at the sight of Ionala, and nods towards her basket, sitting on the ground herself.

"Are ye sure it's really necessary?" Maisha asks, a faint crease between her brows. "I know Arric and Shun are all worried about yer safety, and we've got infiltrators we've not uncovered, but… well, if you came forward you'd not have to beat rugs."

"I wouldn't…but then I wouldn't be in a position to catch stray gossip, either, which is what I'm really hoping for." Ionala reaches into a skirt pocket and pulls out a little bundle tied up in a kerchief. "Grapes, soft cheese, and hard little toasts. If we're sitting, we might as well have a snack. How is everyone?"

"Oh, thanks," Maisha says, looking at the snack with interest. "Folks are doing well, 'cept I've not seen Shun yet. I imagine he's seen me. Lady Marran Trollbane's a bit of a handful, turns out. Not very trusting of non-humans, which hasn't made Velrin's bodyguarding any easier. Corvin's jumpin' at shadows, maybe 'specially because his fox didn't follow him in, and Arric…" Maisha pauses. "Have ye talked to Arric lately?"

"Not since you all came to visit in Hellfire," Ionala says. "Whether that was to make sure no one had any mail to snoop through or not, I don't know. What is happening with Arric? Can I help?"

"Not much, and I expect so," Maisha says, looking a little to the side. "That is, he's fine, he's well. It's a bit to the side of our mission, which I agree is important, but… that was one thing I was hopin' ta ask ye about, when we came out to Hellfire. What do ye think of Arric?"

"I like Arric," Ionala says. "I think we're not on the right foot with each other, maybe? I'm not sure. Why?"

"Far be it from me ta meddle," says Maisha, while meddling, "but I reckon he might welcome a shot at getting back on the right feet. Just, ye know, the impression I get. I think if ye think kindly of him, ye might consider clearing th' air a little. He's a good sort, Arric. Ye can tell, because all th' animals love him, ye know? They get a good sense o' folk sometimes, more'n you and I."

"They do, don't they?" Ionala says. "I just have this feeling…I worry that…"

Nala sighs. "I like being a servant of the light. But I'm a fighter. And I think I want to join SI:7. If they will have me. I haven't talked to anyone about this. It didn't seem like quite the thing to run around telling everyone that I want to be a spy, you know?"

Maisha's mouth drops open in surprise. Hastily, she closes it, and then tests out the function to ask, "You do?" Her mouth seems to be working now, so she continues, "Is that why ye've been workin' with Shun, or is that jus' a happy accident? Ye know I think highly of yer light-wielding and I've noticed yer arms are stronger than they used ta be. An' we did have the work wi' the Cobalt Eye… I'll keep it quiet, if ye want it kept. Does that mean… something ta how ye'd think o' Arric? Or how ye think he'd think of ye?"

Ionala scooches her crate a little closer. "Shun came to direct questioning of the prisoners. I was a little worried about what might happen. All those adventure stories. But it turns out that it's delicate skill. You have to figure out where the crack in their resolve not to talk is, and then work on it. And then when I restored those papers for Admiral Siamus, the mysteries we solved…it feels like something I can do."

"And I know nobility. I know how they think. They all, even in the backs of their minds, think about marrying and carrying on the family line. Not that I think Arric wants to marry me, that's silly! But now I'm not exactly Ionala Webster, am I? Not just some common girl."

"No, but I like ye jus' the same, whether yer Ionala Wesbter or Z…" Maisha, not a spy, coughs awkwardly. "…zomebody else. But maybe ye wouldn't have ta choose? Most spies don't exactly advertise, but I reckon some must have public identities that let 'em have, ye know, marriage and kids an' the like. Not that I'm saying you an' Arric… Or I… Um. I mean, in a general sense."

"In a general sense," Ionala agrees. "Speculation is silly, but I'm doing it anyway. I will talk to him, of course. And if the winds are blowing that way, it's better he knows that I'm at the very least staying active in service of Cobalt Company, as a heavy fighter or a battle healer, depending."

"I can't imagine anyone who knew ye would think otherwise," Maisha says with a grin. "I think that's a good idea, whatever winds end up bearin' up either o' yer wings. Arric and I… we've grown a bit close, with our raptors such good friends. It is friendship between me an' him, though, I should tell ye. I know we went to th' gala together an' all, but it was as friends, clear ta both of us."

She pauses, and adds, "This place… we've got quite the history here, with Cobalt Eye. I don't mind tellin' ye, it was weird flying around Northfold Manor, after the time we spent up there, looking for the forsaken fellow. And you, old memories an' new both. How are ye holdin' up?"

"I'm well. I've been looking for things to do, helping where I can, but I've been on the move, on purpose, trying to keep the whatnot off my tail. I think I've done all right so far."

"Aye, ye have, ye've kept safe," Maisha says, leaning her head on one hand. "No run-ins with this Windward creature, I take it, except that one stew incident. Here… things are a bit tense. The nobles feel a bit forgotten by the Alliance, fightin' out here all on their own with the war going on. Some of 'em think they should pull away, but some are keepin' the faith. Ye'll see, when ye watch 'em — I think we ought to urge 'em to keep with the Alliance, but… the undead are on their doorstep, and we all saw what happened with Southshore, aye?"

"We all did. But it's the same problem as before, only instead of the neglect coming from Lordaeron City, it's Stormwind," Ionala sighs. "It's hard to keep resisting what remains of Alterac's treachery when it feels like no one cares you're doing it."

"Ye don't think the Syndicate's with the Forsaken?" Maisha asks, raising her head worriedly. "That's one thing — seemed like yer informants were sayin' they were at least at odds with each other, if both also with Stromgarde."

"I don't know. I've wondered, though—and that's pure speculation. The men we questioned denied it flat out. Almost disgusted, really. But … Why both of them, completely independent of each other?"

"Lot of bad blood here in the north," Maisha says quietly. "Might just be they all feel alike, but then again… Alterac is known for treachery, and the Syndicate are even worse than the nation once was. I suppose we shouldn't assume anything is below them."

"Maybe they started out with good intentions. But even if they did, they don't have good intentions now. It's like the Scarlet Crusade. They started out to fight the scourge, but they made everyone the enemy."

Maisha sighs. "Aye, that's likely so. But we ought — ought we to give them a second chance? Ye did deal with that one fella, Leif, didn't ye? Do ye think he deserves a second chance?"

"Do they want a chance?" Ionala asks. "I'm not opposed, but I'm also not the only one to ask."

"I wouldn't know, I've never met the fella," Maisha says, leaning back on a hand. "I was jus' thinking. Corvin… he decoded the Syndicate message that said they knew about ye. I wasn't in an investigative team for all that time fer nothin', so… I think I can see why he seems nervous here. But he did no' have to tell us anything."

"He didn't. I'm glad he did." Ionala nods. "The ones who are brave enough to leave on their own? That's saying something. It's hard to leave everything and everyone behind. I won't see him treated badly, speaking for myself."

Maisha draws in a breath and lets it out slowly. "I was hopin' ye'd say that. I don't want to out him in front of everybody, just like I wouldn't want ta out yer identity. Besides, who knows how everybody else feels about second chances? But I wonder if it might be good for us ta tell him we've got it figured out."

"It would have to be two sentences, in this order - one, you are safe. Two, we know. The other way around is too dramatic." Ionala smiles a bit at that. "If you want to pull him aside, maybe we should do that."

"Oh, aye, I wouldn't want him to leap out a window or sommat before we can say we don't mind," Maisha chuckles. "There's this meetin' comin' up, to take stock o' defenses and what ought ta be done. You an' Shun should slip in if ye can — maybe ye can deliver drinks or food or whatnot? Maybe we meet up with Corvin around then, sometime."

"You want me to deliver provender? I'll do it. Let me know when, and any requests—" she flashes a wicked grin. "And Arric's sandwich order."

Maisha laughs. "Arric's sandwich? Is he fond o' yer sandwiches?"

"He'd needed some medical care. I said I was going below, and he asked me to make him a sandwich. I think he did like it."

"He asked ye to make him a sandwich," Maisha repeats, like she can't quite believe it. "And ye did. What was this, the Orgrimmar battle?"

"Yes. And honestly it didn't click until I'd made it into the galley," Ionala laughs.

Maisha is still chuckling as she says, "Audacious or just oblivious. I tend ta come down on the second. Might be it didn't click for him either, till after ye'd gone." Her laughter trails off, and she adds, "Glad ye both made it through that, kraken and all."

"I won't lie. It was close. But it just made me mad, not scared." Ionala stares at the thought that just occured to her. "I probably should have been afraid."

Then she shrugs and folds the napkin so no crumbs escape and slips it into her pocket. "It's about too dark for me to have plausibly done all the mending in the basket. I should hurry back to the housekeeper."

"Maybe ye'd be a shoo-in for SI:7, with that reaction," Maisha says, with a touch of sadness to her smile. Then she nods and gets to her feet, reaching out a hand to Ionala. "I'll let ye know the meeting time. Good luck with yer picking up rumors and gossip."

"Thank you. I'll keep my ears open." Ionala takes her hand and gets up. "Beating carpets is a bit like pell drills. I could probably make infantry out of a parlormaid pretty fast."
With that, Ionala scoops up a basket full of snowy linens and darned socks, ready to scurry back to fetching and carrying.

"I'll keep that in mind, if we're in here much longer," Maisha says with a smile, waving farewell. "My arms start feeling weak from to much politics and not enough gryphon riding, I may well join ye."

"Anytime." Ionala waves, and then opens a little door that leads to a servant's corridor and disappears inside it.