�They even took my fuckin� hair tie.� Jack said as she glanced around the collision of yellow and red plagued scenery. A few pillars of light were jutting up to the sky, but the nearest was still miles off. At the very least, she had the road beneath her bare feet, but nothing more.
No weapons, no armor, and no clue. Blood matted the hair on the left side of her head, arranging locks of auburn into rigid clumps. The wound must have been hours ago, but whoever stranded her must have used some other means. Knocking her out with head trauma would not have put her out long enough to get from Duskwood to the plagued lands in a few hours. A blow that hard would have killed her, and a lingering feeling of lightness in her limbs spoke of some interesting cocktail she must have chugged.
Jack snorted and pain flared up in the bridge of her nose. An aged, metallic taste sat at the back of her mouth before she spit a glob of mucous and blood onto the old cobble stone road.
�Well�shit.� It was the only thing she could think to say in her situation, and set her hands on her bare hips. She was Gilnean after all, and unlike those southern knobs, she knew how to keep a stiff upper lip in the face of adversity. It was a long walk to that nearest tower or even Light�s Hope, but no one got there crying about what happened.
Big plague mushrooms. Giant bats. Old, broken houses. The scenery never improved even an hour into the walk. Her feet hurt, but at least the feeling of a chemical concoction had left her limbs. Unfortunately, it made her aches and pains more evident, but the tower was drawing closer.
The clatter of armor and hooves closed in behind Jack. The order to hold was blurted out in common, much to her relief, but the matter of her shameless presentation remained. She could hear them slowing down and paused in her tracks as a grimace took over her features.
�Miss?� A woman called from the head of the column with clear confusion written into her voice.
�Aye?� Jack had not yet turned to face them as her hands fell to her side. Frankly, she wasn�t sure if she wanted to know how many waited at her back.
�Are you in some kind of trouble?� Stormwind. The woman�s accent was from the southern city. A woman talking common this far north with armor and horses, many of them, gave her a rough idea of what she faced.
�Li�l bit.� She answered and slowly turned to face the woman. Behind her would two neat lines of five armored combatants, each bearing their own Argent Crusade tabard.
�Miss� you�re naked.� The column leader announced. Jack gave one stout nod, rolled back on her heels and set her hands on her hips. She felt no need to cover up, and using her hands at that moment just felt silly.
�Seems that way.�
An awkward silence fell over the group as thoughts wandered to the best course of action for the particular situation. The crusaders looked between themselves with no bright ideas coming up. Not that Jack could blame them. They had likely been out on patrol, and rather than coming across undead or some twisted abomination, they encountered a beaten, naked woman.
�You lot headed to Light�s Hope?� Jack had to be the one to shatter the long pause.
�You lot mind givin� me a lift?� The question hung in the air as crusaders wondered whose horse was getting Jack�s bare ass. The woman at the head of the column rolled her eyes at her own group and beckoned Jack with a wave.
�Hop on then. Not going to leave a perfectly breathing person out here without so much as a knife to their person.�
� �Pologize in advance for the matter of �y�know- bits on your horse.� Jack muttered as she accepted the outstretched hand to climb on the back of the charger.