Fellow adventurers…
I grew a fondness for my Blood Deathknight over the years… so much so I felt I needed to give him a backstory of who he was before he met his…unfortunate end.
Deathlord Bloodrott : wow (reddit.com)
Chapter links:
Character Story (Fan Fiction): Deathlord Bloodrott : wow (reddit.com)
Before becoming a servant of the Lich King, Deathlord Bloodrott was once a living member of the Grimtotem tribe during the time just prior to the emergence of the Heroes of Azeroth (Vanilla WoW). How did a Grimtotem restoration shaman end up in the Eastern Plaguelands??? More so to the point…what was he doing there???
Read! and find out!
Deathlord Bloodrott
(The Death of Ebow’ji Darkcloud)
Chapter 1
“EBO!”, an impatient father called to his son.
The Stonetalon morning was cool, full of a dense mist caressing the mountainous paths and crags, cradled within the stony peaks and ridges. The sparsely separated trees stood silent; bare sentinels in much need of a heavy downpour. Shafts of light worked their way ever downward into the terrain as morning rose, easing the way forward for the travelling Grimtotem caravan down the Stonetalon mountain paths.
In tow were 3 heavily packed Kodo, accompanied with coal-haired aspiring Grimtotem Tauren warriors, shamans and hunters led by a Grimtotem Chief; Grundig Darkcloud.
“The Barrens’ heat will rob us of thirst in the day. I need you to channel the elemental spirits to locate clean water, or to obtain it yourself. Go now, my son. THIS, at least, you can manage…” Grundig reluctantly instructed his son, Ebow’ji Darkcloud.
One of many children of Grundig Darkcloud, Ebow’ji (often called by Ebo by the Grimtotem tribe in general) was a young shaman who found the call of water to his likening. At a young age, Ebo was expected as any other Grimtotem youth to fulfill their duties to the clan as capable soldiers in training that would later serve to bolster the Grimtotem military might. Martial prowess, weapon training, tactics and ruthlessness were all considered second to none when measuring up Grimtotem virtues, of which Ebo was very… lack-lustre… when it came time to vindicate them. Considered secondary to the fire and earth elements, water elemental skills and abilities were looked at as tertiary, barely worth considering as a shaman discipline in the Grimtotem doctrine. If you could not be part of the Grimtotem war-machine, you were made to support it. One way or another.
Ebo became a restoration shaman after a “failed” career as a Grimtotem member. His father made sure he knew it.
“…And please, make sure you get us enough. Only the Earth mother knows your ability to measure up…” Grundig added, returning his focus on the downward sloping path ahead of the caravan.
With his task at hand and channelling staff in the other, Ebo briskly parted from the caravan down one of many split paths trailing from the main path. No-one knows the Stonetalon crags like the Grimtotem, and especially the dangers it could bring. With this in mind, Ebo knew of a pond near a nest of Deepmoss spiders. Where there are Deepmoss spiders…there is usually water.
“Don’t worry about the spiders…”, one of the hunters blurted out, continuing mockingly; “When you get bit, you can always restore yourself!”
The majority of the caravan chuckled and laughed as Ebo disappeared into the crags and crevices.
And when a Kal-dorie arrow pierces your lung, you can always pull it out and bandage it!, Ebo mentally retorted. Were it not for his manipulation of the restorative properties of water, half of those in the caravan may have been crippled or succumbed to disease in their adolescent training.
Of the Tauren tribes, the Grimtotem were always reluctant of living a pacifist existence. Believing themselves superior to all other races on Azeroth, they worked to rid Kalimdor of anything and everyone not “Tauren-centric.” With the wounds from the marauding Centaur years ago still gaping in the minds of the Grimtotem, they never trusted any other race again. Even those of the Horde their brethren are allied to. And even Tauren who get in the way of their vicious march to power.
Massive spider webbing covered trees where leaves ought to have been. Guess I’m heading in the right direction, Ebo continued, heading to a cliff wall crevice where the spider webs were converging towards. The mountain walls seemed to grow higher down the narrow path, darkening the entrance of the spider dominated pond that was tucked away in a crater-like formation, littered with dying trees. The presence of the sun kept the spiders deep in their webbed homes, most sleeping ever-still, like paintings on a cave wall. The surreal darkness of the web-canopied crater kept Ebo on his hooves as he weighted each step carefully, making his way to the ponds edge. A Courser carcass greeted him near the edge of the water, what was left of it was displayed in a wrapping of silk hanging from a tree. Ebo’s tense disposition was now replaced with determination. His mind on the ever-still pond, began to churn as he summoned a lesser water elemental using the pond as the form’s source. The sound of water changing it’s currents and flow softly filled the crater, blending in with the cricket chirps and soft ambient air current rustling.
No movement…good.
The churning tides grew louder, matching the rate his body was channelling the flows of magic to as the lesser water elemental started to take form at the ponds edge.
Still nothing… He continued, eyes wary, darting from each statue-like spider to the next.
The elemental finalized before him, completing the summoning of the spirit inhabiting its form. With a soft “heh…”, Ebo was feeling proud. He would take the elemental to the caravan and it would lead them to water sources along the way to Thunder Bluff.
The feeling was short lived, as the water elemental surged a pressurized bolt of hyper dense water at a spider that was slowly descending a mere meter above Ebo, fangs out, ready to bite. The loud exploding splash caused a collective twitch of all the spiders in the nest. Some rustling in their spots, some laying still again.
I could never tell when they are awake… Ebo thought as he and his newly formed guardian made their way back to the crevice-like entrance in haste.
The water-jetted spider found its way back upright, spotted the escaping prey and immediately started to hiss a near-screaming noise that filled the crater. The majority of the nest jolted awake and descended towards the commotion. WELL, I GUESS NOW, I CAN.
Side hopping in the narrow turning path which led them out of the webbed vale, the elemental liquefied and formed to fit in between the narrow crevice walls, pushing Ebo along a wave of water to the exit, the swarming spiders filling the crevice they once occupied a moment ago, tumbling upon each other.
Ejecting from the mountain wall, the water elemental took some time to re-form into it’s travelling shape. Ebow’ji, being ejected out of the crevice as well, rose to his hooves in the rising sun of a progressing day. With no sign of the pursuing swarm, Ebo inhaled deeply. A sharp yet hot feeling on his left thigh hastened his inhalation into a gasp, his eyes widening in surprise. A comparatively small Deepmoss spider was 2 fangs deep when Ebo looked down. A young one. Exceptionally poisonous.
Rage flooded Ebo’s mind and he swiftly placed an electrically charging hand onto the spiders face. With an explosive POW, the spider fell limp with half it’s eyes missing, as well as a sizable chunk of it’s cephalothorax. That was the extent of Ebo’s lightning power. He never really worked on developing his lightning conjuring abilities to the level of his peers. Where they could hurl independent bolts a great distance, he could only arc a decently sized spark within a short range. It proved to be enough in the end, although he could feel the heat building and spreading on his leg. The elemental stood silent, watching Ebo as he relaxed and recalled his teachings from the village water keeper.
All living things require water, the essence of life… he recalled as he postured in a more magic-receptive stance, breathing deeply and slowly.
The venom, born of life, travels in water… he assessed, honing in on the venom, mentally separating it from his being.
…And water, FLOWS.
He drew upon the dormant life energy of the ground he stood upon, raised his arm to the sky, where from the old life energy was pushed out of, the essence forming the venom included. The separated essence fell to the ground, dispersing harmlessly into basic components of life energy, completing the cast.
Composed, Ebo made his way back down the trail in haste with his hydraulic companion following close.
The caravan stopped prior to the clearing that introduced Stonetalon mountain to the barrens. Behind a formation of rocks, they checked the Kodos, snacked on provisions, and awaited the much needed water supply that was fast approaching them.
A formidable looking warrior by the name of Odenan Grimtotem greeted the duo “Well well! He brings something of use with him!” He exclaimed, followed by a grin.
“It should lead us to wate-” Ebo began, but was interrupted.
“I was talking to the elemental.”
Most of the caravan guffawed at the comment. Ebo was used to the teasing at this point. Restoration shamans were not held in high regard by the vast majority of Grimtotem Tauren, and there was no short of opportunity to express the status quo wherever applicable.
“ALRIGHT. Pack up and keep your weapons OUT of your HANDS when we approach Horde checkpoints.” Grundig instructed as he approached from reconnaissance.
“Place them on the Kodos and leave them there. Ebo, well done.”
With a snap of his finger, pointing to the water elemental, he silently instructed another shaman by the name of Misko. Misko specialized in totem creation and fire elemental magic. Pulling out a blank totem, he forced the water elemental Ebo had conjured into the totem, violently displacing the water elemental into streams which flowed towards the totem, filling the totem with water essence and tearing apart the elemental.
“Ha! Water on tap!” he finished, placing the totem on one of the Kodos.
“But!-” Ebo protested.
Grundig interjected, walking toward the lead of the caravan; “Well, my son, you did a good job this morning. You get first ride on one of the Kodos. Besides, we will need you to extract water essence from the totem to fill our skins whenever we need to re-fill.”
Ebo reluctantly took his praise and sat atop of the Kodo under a make-shift shelter of skins and branches, keeping him safe from the suns rays for the time being.
He was used to this kind of treatment. His usefulness outweighed his welcome in most situations, but it garnered a certain type of respect for him as well as rewards. He was needed and he knew it, whether they…or he…liked it or not.
They revealed themselves to the main road leaving Stonetalon, heading down the southern-most path towards the bordering Horde tower which served as a small garrison. A Tauren grunt approached the spiked wall barricade where the road dissected it, awaiting the Grimtotem company. Two Orcish grunts, male and female, stood in the path.
Grundig commanded a halting motion and all the Grimtotem, in a disciplinary fashion, halted as one, even the Kodos. The Tauren guard began, speaking in the Tauren language; Taurahe.
[Taurahe] “Alright Grundig, as per the tribal shaman meet you are allowed to bring a contingent of guardsmen and the aspiring shamans to Thunder Bluff. Inspection is to follow at each checkpoint from here to Camp Taurajo, proceeding into Mulgore.”
[Taurahe] “Toro Flathoof, I can read a meeting arrangement notice. I know what is expected of us. If the Horde could secure it’s “borrowed lands” a little better, then half of my fine warriors would not be needed, would they!”
The conversing Taurens locked gazes for a moment, upper lips curling. The two grunts, the troll bowmen in the tower, and the wall guards slowly tensed up. Grundig cut the tension in his native tongue, his troupe remaining still as statues.
[Taurahe] “Flathoof, tell your Orcish b!tch to lower her axe” Eyes still locked with Toro, he gestured his horns toward the Orcish female, her battle axe at the ready. [Taurahe] “She’s making my Kodos uneasy.”
“Company, stand down.” Toro ordered his garrison. “The real enemy around here is the centaur…LET THEM PASS.”, he finished with a gesture.
The Grimtotem moved in formation along side their trusty Kodos, unarmed, with Grundig at the fore.
“MUST BE A COMFY RIDE, MON” the troll bowman called down to Ebo from a top the tower. “KEEP ‘ER SAFE FROM DA CENTAUH. DEH BE UP TA SUMTIN’ TODEH. GET TO DAH CROSSROADS, QUICKLY, MON. AND STEH ON DA PAHT.”
Thanks, I think…, Ebo thought, his Grimtotem discipline maintaining his silence as they began southward on their Barrens trek.
Maybe if things don’t pan out, I can at least join the Horde…
Chapter 2
“Say what you want about the other tribes, but that Moorane Hearthgrain makes the best cherry pie. The banana bread is also something else…”, commented a much indulged Krag Stonespire. Ebo silently seconded his friend’s appraisal between mouthfuls of the much welcomed treat. It had an even more welcomed coolingness to it, as the travellers were being beat down by the blazing sun.
They were fast approaching Camp Taurajo, a small but convenient stop near the border of Mulgore and the Southern Barrens, and very heavily guarded with a Horde presence. In but under an hour at their current pace, they would reach their resting point.
“Look above!”, an observant hunter by the name of Kandra Shadewalker pointed skyward to a trio of Horde Wind-riders passing somewhat close above, her eyes keenly fixed at the intruders. Two orcs and a troll on their noble Wyvern steeds approached, gracefully moving in the wind despite the armour, spears and riders they dutifully carried.
“They are just inspecting… no need to get ready.” Grundig summarized to the startled group, as the trio of Wind-riders began ascending again into the sky.
The visiting trio garnered the following attention of the Grimtotems for a while but suddenly started to bank right, eventually coming to what looked like a halt. The figures then started to get slightly larger in the sky. They were coming back, straight for the group.
“Chieftain…?” A concerned warrior called out, moving toward a Kodo to arm himself.
“They would not dare…” Grundig halted, facing the direction of the incoming Wind-riders, standing defiantly.
The group started to arm themselves with whatever ranged weapons were brought. Hunters began nocking arrows to their bows, and warrior took positions, shields raised to the sky in a spread formation. Suddenly, exploding from a nearby hillock and the ditch between the main road, a heavily armed raiding party of Razormane Quilboar began their charge on the Grimtotem Caravan.
“PIG-MEN, TO THE WEST” Odenan Grimtotem called out, dual hatchets in hand while he positioned himself to meet the oncoming raiders. They were not many, but they did out-number the caravan, and they were heavily geared to do what they came to do. The Trio of Wind-riders released a deadly volley of their signature dual-tipped poison spears, with one spear piercing a charging Quilboar, completely, with ease, anchoring into the ground and whipping the target around like a flag on a pole, while another spear hit directly into the armoured plate of a heavily armed Quilboar warrior, pinning the poor warrior firmly into the ground and knocking the wind (and life) out of him. The third spear missed slightly, but caught the armour of it’s intended target, ripping the plates and gear off as one and throwing the warrior off balance as he rolled to the side, with the tangled spear and once-former protective gear flying off of him and violently tumbling and whipping away.
The Quilboar charge was halted by the Wind-riders, as they took hovering formations and threw spear after spear at the Pig-men. Discouraged to continue after the barrage from both the Grimtotem and Horde, they retreated back to the bramble formations in the western mountainsides in the distance that was their territory, continually harassed by the Horde air-dominance that were the Wind-riders.
“PICK UP THE PACE”, Grundig ordered, blowing a Kodo-whistle twice. The Caravan proceeded with haste; The well disciplined Kodos quickening their movements, thundering forward as the Grimtotems moved in formation at their side, creating a loose phalanx formation. Ebo took a position beside the foremost Kodo. It was his duty to keep it calm and in worst cases, healed and tended to. A panicking Kodo is deadlier than the most skilled enemy…
Minutes later, Camp Taurajo appeared from behind a view-blocking massive Boab tree. A most welcoming site. The smell of burning coal and metal greeted the caravan as they were most certainly being approached by their Horde inspectors. A sweat-drenched Grundig greeted in Orcish.
“Warriors of the Horde, we are the Grimtotem caravan heading to Thunder Bluff to take part in the meeting of shamans. With us are the shaman aspirants to be judged and deemed worthy by Magatha Grimtotem.”
“Throm-ka Tauren. Our Wind-rider patrol arrived just moments ago. Said you were being stalked by the pig-men! They managed to spot the wretches from above and turned to aid you just as they began their attack!” The Orc guards-woman exclaimed.
“With air superiority like that, I am surprised the Horde does not just eradicate the Quilboar menace and be done with it already…”, retorted an annoyed Grundig.
“The majority of our forces hold off the Alliance threat, you know how it goes.”, She continued, “Also, will the Grimtotem be officially joining the Horde soon?”, she finished with a smile.
“That is for Chieftain Magatha to decide.” Grundig abruptly and sternly replied. “Now, we are in dire need of shade and our Kodos need to rest.”
“Certainly”, acknowledged the other guardsman.
The sun was retiring from the sky as Ebo filled his colleague’s water flasks from the water totem. He would perform tricks as he weaved the water in floating streams mid air, forming intricate patterns like double helix animal shapes and scenes like a cliff-waterfall with the entirety of the water ending up in the flasks of his comrades as they held them forward.
“just pour the damned water…” Odenan said with an annoyed face as it was his turn to re-fill.
Odenan was a Grimtotem’s Grimtotem. Extremely loyal to the tribe in every way, and was rumoured to replace Grundig when it the time was right. He was stern when needed, ruthless when required, and undeniably cunning on and off the battlefield. He learned all Horde languages, as well as Human common and Darnassae, and was fluent in Thalassian. All of this was to gain advantages over the enemy, and to potentially help in recruiting the wayward blood elves to the Grimtotem cause, who themselves were in talks with joining the Horde.
“Come on! That was good.” Krag Stonespire claimed, gesturing to the display Ebo was expertly mastering.
“Riiight! He could have put on a wonderful show for the Pig-men! They certainly would have let us pass after such a wondrous display of water magic!”, Odenan replied, his tone heavily sarcastic as his expression was.
“I wonder how that fight would have went if those Horde Wind-riders didn’t show!” One of the warriors piped up. Krag responded instantly, ”Perhaps an alliance with the Horde isn’t as ba-”
“There will be no alliances with the interlopers as long as they continually encroach on our ancient territory”, Odenan interrupted, shifting his eyes left and right to check if any Horde eavesdroppers were in attendance, withdrawing his now-filled water flask. “We may one day end up as enemies…”
He read the expressions on his comrades faces and immediately followed up, “but should they acknowledge our sovereignty, yes, it is entirely possible the Horde will be allied to us. And perhaps one day, we will have Wind-riders of our own!”, he finished with a smile.
Ebo couldn’t help but respect Odenan, despite his sometimes vile attitude toward Ebo. As children, Odenan saved him a number of times. Harpies took Ebo, kidnapping him during the night when he was alone. The same night, Odenan stealthily slipped into the harpy infested crags in the middle of the night, and rescued Ebo from whatever vile experiments and torture he surely would have been the subject of. He also came to Ebo’s aid as he fought to control a water elemental that would not follow his command, during his early years training as a shaman. Over the years as they began adolescence, he pulled him from a Kodo stampede, fought off marauding centaurs that were bearing down on him on one of the mountain paths, expertly killing them one by one, and more recently saved him during reconnaissance on the Stonetalon Night-elf forces. A Night-elf rogue managed to get behind Ebo. Before the knife stroke fell on Ebo’s neck, Odenan’s flying hatchet buried itself into the skull of the would be assassin. Although he saved Odenan from certain death at times, and kept him topped up from damage after engagements with the enemy, he wasn’t really counting who owed who. What little respect Odenan gave him was enough, and he was accepting of it.
“ooo, and those Demolishers!” Misko commented.
“Yes, yes, perhaps even Demolishers…”
Mulgore at pre-dawn was a sight to behold. Even in the dim light, the rolling green plains housing a number of ponds and lakes were reward enough for a day long slog in the Barrens. The Kodos displayed what clearly looked like smiles on their large faces, their pace slightly quickening on the road despite their stern training. Grundig, sensing the excitement, let the Kodos roam the plain. Of course, with riders on their backs. The highly intelligent beasts of burden were at times entirely capable of facial expressions. Pure of heart and pure of strength, the Kodo are protected diligently by all Tauren. You could clearly tell when a Kodo was angry, or scared, or in this case happy. All expressions were true and pure, for only beasts are above deceit.
Ebo tended to a number of Kodo growing up. Training them was relatively easy given the intelligence the animals displayed. Even training them in tactics proved fruitful and rewarding, their loyalty only matched by their hunger. And Kodos could devour almost anything (organic). Ebo laughed as a nearby coyote made the mistake of being nearby an excited Kodo, which chased it for quite a bit around a felled tree, running for it’s life, trying not to be devoured.
The structures of Bloodhoof village began to slowly reveal themselves in the rising light as the caravan approached. The Bloodhoof tribe currently held the mantle of High Chieftain, belonging to Cairne Bloodhoof as leader of all the Tauren tribes. His son, Baine, awaited the approaching Grimtotem in the dawning light.
“Ah, mighty Grundig! I am glad to see even the Grimtotem join us this day!” Baine greeted warmly, continuing, “A grand day for all Tauren. And these are the shaman aspirants-”, he stopped mid-sentence while meeting eyes with Ebo, his expression dropping from his face. “Ah. Ebow’ji Darkcloud…”
“Baine Bloodhoof.” Ebo plainly stated, his eyes averting straight ahead on the path.
“Seems even you are capable of one day doing something that will make us all proud.” Baine shot out.
“How is she? Is she doing well?” Ebo retorted, met with a silent glare from Baine.
After an awkward silence, Baine composed himself and instructed to the passing by caravan, “Chieftain Magatha will surely be blessed this day to see her tribe blossoming, well, some of them. Please, stay on the road, but I’m pretty sure you can see Thunder Bluff well within sight.” he directed to the formation of plateaus in the distance, with a massive Totemic structure on the middle-most largest plateau.
“My father awaits you. Walk with the earth mother.”, Baine concluded as he escorted them to the edge of the village.
Ebo breathed a sigh of relief. He knew Bloodhoof village was on the trek to Thunder Bluff but he did not expect his adolescence rival to be tending the village.
It only makes sense…of course he would follow in his father’s footsteps. He is a Bloodhoof afterall…, Ebo thought, …The entitled prick.
Ebo and Baine had an incident in Bloodhoof village in their younger years. The Grimtotems at the time were at a greater peace with their fellow tribes, and would often offer inter-tribal teachings. During Ebo’s path to shaman-hood, shortly after he wasn’t deemed worthy of being a Grimtotem soldier, Grundig was quick to send him away after recognizing his potential with the elements, especially that of water. Of all the elements you could be saavy with…it had to be f^#%ing water…hadn’t it?, Ebo recalled his father saying when he was a teenager after he discovered that Ebo could move water by will. He remembered the tone being disappointed, relieved and surprised at the same time. To keep the clan strong, Grundig instructed tutors in Bloodhoof village to train Ebo in the ways of restoration magic. Warriors required healing constantly, and having a strong support system in battle and otherwise kept a tribe strong and prosperous. Ebo was among many aspirants in the village with Tauren from all other tribes. The restoration shamans were required to patch up the younger Tauren warriors in training nearby. During Ebo’s stay he met Baine, who was part of the warrior training sessions from time to time. He witnessed Baine move with dominating strength among the others, often times matching the opponent’s fury and then easily surpassing it when ending the match. More than a number of times he patched both Baine and his opponents back to fighting shape so they could go another bout in the ring of combat. When training was over, they spent the days in Bloodhoof village and surrounding areas. This is where he met Melana Tallgrass, a druid-in-training. It turned out, as he got acquainted with her, Baine did as well. As quick as Baine and Ebo were to form friends, their rivalry was there to replace it, often times out doing one another in their practices when Melana would visit them. It came down to one day, when both the Tauren males knew Melana was soon to be free of her training sessions. There was a tournament nearing it’s end, of which Baine was one bout away from winning it. Suffering a heavy tendon wound to his leg in the bout prior, the restoration shamans were required to return the warriors to full strength and condition. Ebo, seizing the opportunity to spend more time with Melana, healed Baine’s leg slightly, leaving some damage to go unnoticed by a hyped up Baine preparing for the final fight. The round took place, Baine took a stance to dodge an opponent’s blow, but his leg gave out, leaving him exposed. He took a full swing from a battle-totem to the face and was out cold, the entire expo gasping and falling silent moments there after. The opponent was startled to say the least, and how Ebo witnessed it, the opponent “looked like he realized he just killed Baine Bloodhoof.” Do whatever it takes to win. You are part of the f#&%ing Grimtotem tribe . A CT LIKE IT , he recalled a blood-drenched Odenan angrily saying to him as he saved him from the marauding centaur those years prior. Seems he made his tribe proud that day, as Baine was in a coma, and Ebo had more than a week to get…”well acquainted” with Melana Tallgrass. To this day, Baine could never really prove if his leg gave out naturally that day because he was going so hard, or if Ebo purposely left it damaged. But he could prove that Ebo stole Melana away from him, as Ebo and Melana spent nearly all their off-time together until the remainder of their training was completed, and they were required to return to their home tribes. Ebo left for Stonetalon, Melana left for Feralas, and Baine remained, beaten and broken-hearted, his disposition towards Ebo darkened and jaded.
Thunder Bluff was as impressive as Ebo remembered it from his time in Mulgore, when his training would go on “field-trips” to the Tauren capital. The elevator lifts functioning without fail, lifted the class to the safety of the bluffs from any attempted centaur assault. Attacking Thunder Bluff is tantamount to suicide. An attempt to take it would require a deal well beyond worth, and would require the most cunning of planning and the most fortune of luck.
The Grimtotem were met at the base of the bluffs to a gathering of tribes. A Pow Wow was taking place, great drums beating rhythmically as many dancers of different tribes moved as one to the beat, dressed in vibrant colours and jingle-dresses. Elders sat by fires, surrounded by Tauren children eager to hear the next legend being passed down. The great lifts were in constant motion, and Ebo noticed the platforms leading to them under heavy guard. Must be for us…
All Tauren tribes were present for the shaman meet as the day was beginning to start, where Muln Earthfury stood in attendance, meeting with tribe leaders and representatives about their up and coming shaman apprentices. As leader of the Earthen Ring, it was his responsibility to guide the shamans of the Horde and lead them to a prosperous future during the great hunt, and to show them that we all must walk with the Earth Mother.
Yet, it seemed the Grimtotem party wasn’t going to partake in the festivities this day…
A guard from the lift approached the area the Grimtotems set up camp at the meet, seeking out Grundig.
“Grundig Darkcloud. Magatha has requested you immediately. She said bring all the invited guests to the Elder Rise. Immediately.”
With the selected Grimtotems in tow, they made their way inconspicuously to the lifts up the rampway and boarded the next available lift. The festivities were really underway, with everything appearing smaller and smaller as they ascended. The guard awaiting at the entrance dock motioned the Grimtotems over.
“My name is Rahauro. This way. The elder crone awaits you all.”
Chapter 3
Despite the large attendance in the plains below, Thunder Bluff itself was just as busy. The metal ringing of blacksmiths working their craft becoming more distant as the Grimtotem guests set out to the Elder rise where the elder crone Magatha awaited them. The massive totem in the middle of Thunder Bluff acted as a main hub into the different levels of Thunder Bluff and doubled as a Wind-rider roost. The spiral ramp leading up in the interior of the structure was clogged with merchants and craftsman scrambling to get their goods to the festivities below.
The group arrived at the uppermost section of Thunder Bluff, the pathway leading straight to what looked like an amphitheatre bordered by merchant buildings. Directly across the amphitheatre stood the chief’s hut of which the Cheiftain of the Tauren people, Cairne Bloodhoof, was standing near. Grundig followed Rahauro who led the way towards an entrance to one of the bridges spanning the way across the main bluff to the Elder rise. Just as the group was about to enter the span-way, Cairne’s curiousity got the better of him, and he moved to intercept the Grimtotems.
“Greetings, young ones. It looks like Magatha finally sent someone after me!” Cairne jested, followed by a hearty guffaw.
“Hao, chieftain.” Grundig responded with a slight bow.
“Are these the new shamans you Grimtotems have been whipping into shape? They look very capable! The Grimtotem clan may actually have a shot at leadership after I’m gone!”, Cairne complimented the young troupe.
“Thank you, high chieftain!” Odenan responded.
“Don’t thank me just yet young one, you still have to talk to that old crone, Magatha!” Cairne finished as he walked away laughing.
Ebo had met Cairne only through crowds as he addressed his shaman training group years prior when they visited Thunder Bluff. He noticed he was most jovial in the presence of youth. As a Tauren who has seen much of his people die at the hands of the Centaur, Ebo couldn’t blame the old Tauren for being hopeful of the future of their race. Especially after all he has done to keep them from extinction. He was starting to like this Bloodhoof Chieftain… Even if he is Baine’s father…
The bridge spanning the gap towards the Elder rise bluff was as solid as the bonds between the shamans and druids of the Tauren people. Both disciplines adhered to the teachings nature had to offer. The Earth mother would be pleased to guide her children down any path they walked. I wonder if the Earth mother guide s those who stray from her teachings…?, Ebo contemplated, as they approached the end of the bridge.
Rahauro led the way as he adjusted his posture to look more formidable.
“Chieftain Magatha.”, the dutiful servant beckoned his master from the tipi entrance, “The agents you called upon have arrived.”, he finished with a bow.
“It does not take more than one day to cross into the Barrens, Grundig.” Magatha scolded deep from within her shaded tipi.
“Apologies, High Cheif, but we had to prepare in dealing with the consequences of Horde weakness…”.
“Explain.”, Magatha requested, clearly unimpressed.
“Pig-men…”, Grundig pleaded, “…roaming centaurs, even encroaching alliance continually plague our lands. We had to prepare enough to deal with anything.”
“I see.”, Magatha concluded, somewhat satisfied, “But you arrive all the same. And with all who I have requested in this…delicate task.”, she observed the young Grimtotem crew before her. “Perhaps giving a Darkcloud hunter a place in the Stonetalon mountains bearing the Grimtotem name wasn’t a mistake after all…”
“My life for the Grimtotem. Your hand becomes my hand”, Grundig grovelled.
“Do not forget it.”, Magatha said as she stood up and walked toward the tipi entrance where all the young Grimtotems eagerly awaited instruction.
“Whelplings…”, She began, “…You have been chosen for discretion in the execution of a task that will benefit the Grimtotem tribe… and may one day bring about our rightful rise to power in Kalimdor.”, she paused, motioning the crew deeper into the tipi. As they moved forward, the Tipi was sealed, further darkening Magatha’s tall, formidable figure.
“Young ones… There are no others who I trust other than my tribe. We are the RIGHTFUL rulers of this land and I will go to ANY END to bring this to fruition. You all have been chosen by me to carry out a task I find to be both high in risk AND reward. I charge upon you the collection of a relic from the dying lands of the high-elves…”, She stated as she ignited an indigo, smokeless fire in the pit of her Tipi. In the rising flames was vision of the city of Silvermoon nestled in the distance surrounded by what was now called the Ghostlands.
“Your task is two-fold. You are to acquire as many powerful relics from that land as you possibly can within half a year. You are also required to sabotage any alliance attempts made by the Horde to the so called “Blood-Elves”. Work with the Humans, the Amani Troll empire…The damned Scourge, I DO NOT CARE.”, She said, eyeing all of her subjects, “You will travel under the guise of Earthen Ring shamans coming to the land of the Blood-Elves to purge the undead menace and to help heal the land. You will be under command of my grand-nephew, Odenan Grimtotem.”, She instructed as Odenan placed a stern fist over his heart and bowed. Great, now I know why I was chosen…
“His word is as mine in that land. I have funded an expedition into the Ghostlands in co-operation with the Steamwheedle Cartel in Ratchet. On the rising sun in 3 days time you will set sail for Northern Tirisfal Glades and make contact with the Forsaken there. You will travel with the Goblins and whatever escort the Forsaken grant you into the Eastern Plaguelands. From there, use your skills as the Grimtotems you are to get into the Ghostlands and fulfill your tasks for the Grimtotem tribe. Complete this, and you will all have a place on my growing council.”
She finished for a moment, Overlooking her flock of eager and hopeful Grimtotems. “…Ten of you. Not too many as to draw attention, none to little as to fail me in this task. Thunder Bluff will one day be ours, and nobody… The Horde… The Alliance… That Bloodhoof fool Cairne, will stop our destiny from becoming manifest!”, She exclaimed as she clenched her fist over the indigo flames, putting them out. With a swift motion of her hand, commanding the wind itself, she whipped the tipi skins to the entrance open, allowing the light of the morning sun to enter her quarters.
“Go now, my children…”, She said as she lit the fire-pit in her quarters with just a snap of her finger.
“Enjoy the festivities of the Shaman meet for the day. Earth mother grant you the strength to defeat your enemies…”, She finalized.
She called to her servant standing just outside the entrance.
“RAHAURO. Come make me my Plainstrider eggs.”
“Great-crone Magatha looks pretty formidable for a Tauren her age! Not as big as old Cairne, but close in height!” Krag noted to Ebo as the pair perused among the festivities of the meet. Shamans from all over displayed techniques of elemental disciplines. One such shaman (and of their own tribe), Kurog Grimtotem, made a windmill-like structure out of stone, with the blades representing an element all their own; ice, lava, rock, and thunder-cloud, rotating in a slow controlled motion. Kurog, however, was visibly straining to keep the impressive work of elemental aptitude going; clenching his teeth and heavily breathing through them at the same time, face full of sweat, clenched fists forward and eyes squinted shut.
“Now that is impressive.” Ebo stated.
“One day I’m going to make that look silly.”, Krag said with a solid confidence. Just then, Misko Slaghoof interrupted the perusing pair, grabbing Ebo’s attention.
“Hey water-boy, you should show them how melon-juice should be PROPERLY poured!”, Misko jested, motioning over to the massive melon-juice barrel-wagon that was brought in for the meet.
Ebo entertained the idea, “…OKAY!”
Making his way behind the serving stand towards the tap of the large barrel, Misko addressed the surrounding and passer-by Tauren, garnering their attention.
“BRING YOUR THIRSTY FLASKS! RAISE YOUR EMPTY CUPS! A JUICY STORM APPROACHES!”
Misko’s partner in crime, Noodin Skyrender, slapped open the valve of the tap, releasing the cool, ever-sweet beverage. Just as the liquid was about to hit the ground, Ebo directed the flow to form what looked like a mountain range, slowly taking shape as more liquid flowed from the massive barrel. The crowd began to grow as melon-juice clouds began to form above the conjured mountain range. The crowd, continuing to grow even further, began preparing for what was coming as the clouds dripped onto what looked like a plain, forming a river.
Focus…this will be tough… Ebo thought, honing in on as many flasks, cups and tankards as he could see as he stood on top of the serving table. The river began to form streams into many sections of the crowd, multiple rivers branching off and serving clusters of impressed Tauren people.
These 10…now these 8…branch the 3 left streams…2 on the right for the 5…
“Cut it…now” Ebo called to Noodin, who immediately slapped the tap closed.
The Melon juice scene began to slowly dissipate, starting from the mountains, to the clouds, to the plains…
“Buy a girl a drink?” a familiar, smoky voice came from Ebo’s right.
“MELANA.”, a startled and suprised Ebo said, losing concentration on the dying plains and collapsing river as they fell into the ground below, and on those unfortunate few left who weren’t expecting melon-rain today.
“Awww whaaat!”
“eeeeeee…”
“WHAT IN THE NETHER!”
“Typical Grimtotem bullsh!t…”
The remaining few of the expecting crowd were clearly not happy.
“Oh, for F@#$ sake Ebo.” A melon-juice-doused Misko Slaghoof said in a fury, clearly not impressed as Noodin burst out laughing.
An angry crowd meant nothing now.
“Melana Tallgrass…” Ebo Darkcloud managed to squeak out. He had not expected to see the flame of his youth at a shaman meet of all places. She had most certainly grown up. Giggling at the miss-hap she had the pleasure of dodging, she made her way to Ebo and planted a soft kiss on his cheek.
“Miss me, water-boy?”, Melana teased as she smiled at the bewildered Ebo.
“I…yeah! I mean, how…why are…”
“I came to Thunder Bluff for a task I completed for Turak Runetotem. I heard the shaman meet was going on and I wondered if my favorite Grimtotem restoration shaman would be here!”, she explained with glee, “…I’m glad you still don’t fail to disappoint.”
Just then Odenan showed up, walking a brisk pace.
“We leave tonight. Tell the others if you can find them. I would stock up and say your farewells now while you can.” And just like that he disappeared into the crowds.
“Leaving tonight!?” Melana complained. “…Come then! We have some catching up to do now, don’t we!” She said, taking Ebo by the hand and leading him into the crowd.
Chapter 4
The following morning, the crew set out for the Steamwheedle Cartel port-town of Ratchet. The mountain-to-valley-to-mountain trek of emotions Ebo experienced last night slowly faded as the Grimtotem crew of ten made their way out of the lush plains of mid-day Mulgore,
Camp Taurajo greeted them, coming into view over the elevating terrain. The group consisted of Ebow’ji Darkcloud, Krag Stonespire, Misko Slaghoof, Noodin Skyrender, and Dagwa Ebonhorn as the disguised Earthen Ring agents and their protectorate consisting of Odenan Grimtotem as the group expedition leader and commander, Kandra Shadewalker and Talon Grimbow with his pet hyena, Slaughtermaw, as hunters/scouts, and finally the pair of heavy hitters; The eldest of the group, Thunder Centaurbane who specialized in 2 handed weaponry, and Toros Bramblesmash, who specialized in defensive measures and shieldsmanship. The looming Tauren totem of the Camp Taurajo Inn cast silent judgment on the approaching Grimtotem task force, it’s stern, fixed, carved face matching that of the Horde troops. The guard who greeted them the day previous recognized the group, and made their way over to them.
“Throm ka!”, she began, “How fared the meet!”.
“Excellent!”
“Good.”
“Fair enough”, the shamans unanimously responded.
“That is good to hear… would there be a restoration shaman among you? I have suffered a spear-graze on my leg from the Pig-men earlier this morning on patrol. It was deeper than I had originally gauged it to be…”, she presented the make-shift, patched wound just below the leg-plate armour she wore. Ebo immediately approached, moving forward from the Grimtotem line up. He could sense septic compounds in the wound.
“The weapon was poisoned,” Ebo gave his prognosis, moving closer to the injury, “most likely Guano coated.”
The Razormane Quilboars favoured the disgusting practice of “septically” enhancing their weapons from the refuse of the Razorfen Kraul bats. The Grimtotem had the unfortunate opportunity of learning the receiving end of this practice after a number of engagements with the Razormane Quilboar at Darkcloud Pinnacle, the original home of the Darkcloud Tauren family name. Before the arrival of Thrall’s Horde to Kalimdor, the Grimtotem were well underway with their march to domination, fighting everything and anything that was not hoofed and horned. Though the Razormane were many, the Grimtotem were strong and skilled, often beating back Razormane assaults and countering deep into their bramble labyrinth, dealing hefty blows to the Razorfen downs before retreating to prepare another assault. At this point in the Grimtotem history of warfare, there existed few healers, and only one water shaman in Darkcloud Pinnacle; The water keeper, and one of many women Grundig romanced in his youth, Ebow’ji’s mother, Cedar Slatehoof.
She would die during a Razormane siege, when Ebo was barely six years of age. He remembered the guttoral screaming warcry of a Razormane Quilboar champion as he and his warband made it past the front of the battle and behind Grimtotem defenses. Standing between Ebo and the massive Quilboar champion was Cedar Slatehoof. It all happened so fast. Cedar managed to summon a spike of hardened ice from the bucket of water in front of her at her last moment as the champion savagely charged forth, slamming the entire left side of her torso with a multiple chained mace-like weapon. Cedar cried out, tumbling with her crushed upper body uncontrollably to the side in the middle of the Grimtotem encampment. The last minute defence proved effective, as the ice lance was embedded in the lower torso of the Razormane champion, causing him to squeal a guttural cry of pain accompanied with blood. Behind the champion the Grimtotem braves came charging in to clear out the remainder of the Razormane assault, with Grundig at the front. Loosing one arrow, Grundig landed a shot behind the knee joint of the massive warrior. Charging forth at his dying prey, Grundig leaped onto the champions shoulders, expertly avoiding the many spines protruding from his back and brought his blade downward in a massive arc, cleaving the Razormane enemy’s head in two, down to the nape. Victory came at a price, as Grundig quickly leapt to Cedar’s shattered, dying form. Ebo, witnessing all of this, couldn’t move after the surreal ordeal. As if rooted in place, he heard his parents conversing in low voices as they were being surrounded by the Grimtotem braves just as he was carried off by one of the elders to the safety of a nearby tipi. He remembers the burial the day after, and the clean up he autonomously performed around the camp. He remembers his father’s stone-like face not shedding one tear. He remembered the pounding drums of the procession. He remembers the new water keeper being sworn in, and being tasked as assistant to them…
“…So will I make it?”, the Guard curiously inquired, jestingly.
“It is good we caught it now. The Guano is insidious in that it will let the wound heal but linger under it until it outbreaks. Then you have problems, like how much limb you will need to chop off…”, Ebo concluded as he prepared to rid the poison away. Channelling the familiar healing spell he so often used, the renewing life energy swelled up in him from the earth and was immediately transferred into the wound, clearing it of the vile guano sepsis, and mending it anew.
“Look at that. Like it never happened. Thank you. I, Tara Spearcry, have something I want to give you.”
The Horde Guards-woman escorted Ebo to the command tent of Camp Taurajo. In the spacious tent sat a large formidable chest bound by a thorium lock, of which Tara had the key for.
“I am a Sergeant of the Horde who took this post after years of service in the Ashenvale front.”, she began, as she unlocked and opened the chest, which was filled with Gold coin, jewels, scripture and documents as well as a variety of medals, neatly stacked in a section of the chest. “I am authorized to give horde commendations to individuals who, in service to the Horde, have shown honour and support. I would say potentially saving the life of a Horde Sergeant would count.”, She finished with a Horde commendation medal in one hand, locking the chest with the other.
Ebo had mixed feelings about this, as the pair made their way back to the Grimtotems awaiting Ebo’s return in the pre-noon sun.
“Honorable Grimtotems, I have given your healer a Horde commendation for the potential saving of my life. I GUArantee you…”, she said emphasizing the “GUA” heavily, forcing a soft chuckle from the Grimtotems, aside from Odenan, who seemingly forced his attention to the horizon towards Ratchet, “…that I would have let the wound heal on it’s own with my ignorance becoming my misfortune.” Pausing for a moment, she continued with a proposal.
“…You all look well equipped…Are you going into battle? Travelling?”
“The latter.” Odenan responded plainly, his posture still facing in the direction of Ratchet.
“hmmm…If I were to pay you 50 silver each, will you be willing to travel with me, back to the Pig-men’s whereabouts, and rid them of their encroachment?”
Odenan’s attention turned to the Horde Sergeant. “I don’t see a treasury in Camp Taurajo…”
“It is under lock and key.”, Tara responded lifting and dangling a key.
“…Lead the way.”, Odenan asserted.
After heading northward a short distance and behind the cover of a tall hillock, the strike-force crept up slowly towards Kandra, who immediately signalled the other hunter in the distance, Talon, that they were in position. Kandra conveyed a string of hand signals to Odenan. The Female Tauren rarely talked, and only responded when spoken too, usually in small verses and one word answers.
Odenan nodded, and relayed orders to the hunter, spurring her to move around and up the hillock, bow in hand. He moved to where the corpse of Kandra’s most recent Razormane target lay dead, and scanned for Talon. Where you could find his hyena Slaughtermaw “casually” roaming around, is where Talon would be hiding. Catching his slight wave in a dark patch of ground he was expertly camouflaged in, he gave hand signals to Talon as well.
The tightly packed group awaited Odenan’s commands.
“The lookouts have been killed, and the perimeter is ours for the time being”, he reported softly. “they double to triple our number, but it is just a small platoon of grunts with a handful of thorn-weavers. Slaughtermaw will enter the camp and harass the area, giving us a distraction to move in closer. We crawl in the tall grass and jump on whatever target nears us until they are fully aware of our presence.”, he then eyed the group of shamans, “Misko and Noodin, you are to bombard their structures and light them aflame. Kandra will cover you from afar and Ebo will assist you IF they can make it past us…” He finished.
“Sergeant, you are with Thunder, Krag, Dagwa and I. Toros, give them something to shoot at and force your way towards the thorn-weavers. Talon, no doubt, has them lined up.”
The massive protection warrior stood up and made his way to the edge of the hillock with his shield in tow, just out of vision from the Razormane enemies in the clearing ahead.
A few moments passed and the tell-tale heckle of a hyena echoed across the tall grass field from the Razormane encampment. Collapsing cooking racks and tumbling crates and barrels could be heard across the plain, accompanied by squealling and roaring. That’s our queue, Ebo thought as the hidden assault force witnessed the hyena run from the encampment with a basket of fruit in his mouth, heading past his well camouflaged master and into the distance, a host of angered pig-men attempting to chase him in vain.
The warriors made their way in the tall grass on their stomachs, crawling ever closer to roaming enemies on guard duty. The shamans mimicked the same tactic, only moving toward a position of advantage to rain down molten slag on the enemy make-shift tents. Ebo could hear muffled struggling just ahead of him in quick intervals, but could not see what was going on.
Interrupting the stealthily executed entry, a Razormane warrior cried out with a guttural scream. Thunder immediately rose to his feet, his mighty battle-totem exploding upward as he charged and brought the weapon crashing into the Pig-man with a sickening crack, catapulting him meters away. Roaring tyrannically, the responding Razormanes gave pause to the enraging Tauren warrior who prepared for combat, some halting their advance, and some running in fear. The remainder of the Grimtotem strike-force popped up as well and spread out, creating a loose wall like position. From behind them, a red hot ball of smouldering earth arced over them and landed on one of the make-shift shelters, exploding on contact and engulfing everything in flame, including the unfortunate Quilboars inside as they ran in panic.
The attention was now on the slow-moving plated Grimtotem protection warrior making his way towards the centre of the encampment. Arrows hissed over him, back and forth as the pair of Grimtotem hunters targeted their prioritized enemies from cover. The odd “TUNG”, “PLOCK” noise of impacting arrows embedding harmlessly on Toros’ raised shield made the approaching Juggernaut chuckle in amusement, as he neared the defensive position of the panicking Razormane forces.
Ebo kept his eyes on the fray that was taking place in the tall grass, as the Horde Sergeant axed down Quilboar after Quilboar. Krag made it impossible for the enemy to move effectively towards the strike-force as he forced miniature earth quakes between the enemy and his allies. He witnessed, skyward, as another one of Misko’s globs of molten lava was hurled from Noodin’s localized air current, flying overhead and into the make shift Razormane structures. He turned his attention in the distance as Talon now had free reign to loose arrow after arrow from atop the side of a mountain wall, peppering the thorn-weavers who dared tried to back up their allies. He looked to his left and say Kandra doing the same.
Realizing the slaughter that was taking place, the remainder of the Razormane Quilboars turned tail and began running in fear for their lives. With the enemy scattered, the strike-force reassembled at the centre of the encampment.
Thunder boomed loudly, soaked in blood and wounds, “What is better in life than to crush your enemies! See them driven before you…”, he turned his attention toward the approaching Kandra Shadewalker, “…And to hear the appraisals of women”, he grinned at her as she walked toward the assembly rolling her eyes and forcing a half-smile. The group of Grimtotems regaled the battle among themselves as Odenan and Tara strode slightly away from the group and began a discussion, both leaders facing the northern horizon.
“You Grimtotems did your parts well” Tara began. “I will uphold the payment as promised.”
“Well done Sergeant”, Odenan began, “You served your Horde well. They will remember you as a hero.”, He finished as he stuck a long thin blade through the back of the Horde Sergeant, piercing her heart.
The surprised Sergeant fell to her knees with Odenan clutching the Treasury key from her person as she collapsed sideways, her bewildered expression left to rot in the Barrens sun. Ebo went numb, witnessing the betrayal before his eyes.
The group stood silent as Odenan returned to them. Tossing the key to Talon, he gave his command.
“Empty the horde coffer of as much currency as you can this night, and meet us in Ratchet before dawn. Be sure to place the key back on the good Sergeant’s corpse on your way back.”
Odenan re-assured his troupe as he began, “The escaped Razormane will have undoubtedly told their superiors about the attack here. They will send a much larger force to contest this area in the coming days.”, he paused slightly, erecting his posture as he continued, “This will take the heat off of Darkcloud Pinnacle, as the Razormane Quilboar will now have Horde encampments in their targets, instead of Grimtotem villages!”, He ended with a roar.
The Grimtotems cheered, except for Ebo, who clutched his Horde commendation medal. The party gathered and moved out Eastward to Ratchet. Odenan approached a conflicted Ebow’ji, and began to explain his actions.
“I know you must be feeling a bit of disdain towards my current actions… You need to keep in mind the mission and what is at stake here.”, he said stopping the pair.
“Do you understand the importance of our mission, Ebow’ji. We CANNOT fail High Chieftain Magatha. The entire future of the Grimtotem tribe depends on us!”
Odenan’s eyes shifted to the medal in Ebo’s hand.
“Keep that. It will be of importance to us in the near future.”
Ebo looked up and met Odenan’s stern gaze, and simply nodded.
Chapter 5
“The Kaja Cruizer, we call ‘er”, The Goblin captain addressed the expected Grimtotems as they approached the docked and waiting vessel, “SO! Earthen Ring eh? Some big shot in Thunder Bluff paid handsomely to get you from ol’ Ratchet here to Northern Tirisfal Glades! With what they paid you’d think the ship was made a’ pure Kajamite!”, The Goblin captain concluded gleefully, laughing heartily as he made his way from the deck, onto the boarding plank, and down to the dock.
“Name’s captain Zippo Fuselighter.”, he introduced, extending his hand upward for a handshake. Odenan simply stood before him, rejecting the gesture, staring blank and stern.
“…I see we’re not big on pleasantries…”, Captain Fuselighter stated as he awkwardly retracted his welcoming hand. “…In any case, I WAS instructed to comply with the N.D.A. regardin’ your presence, so fair ‘nuff.” The Goblin captain stepped aside and gestured the false Earthen Ring agents to board.
The “Kaja Cruizer” was quite large and sturdy, crewed by a number of races in the employ of the Steamwheedle Cartel. It had multiple decks and large sails, yet was quite formidable in stature. Most likely a decommissioned alliance Battle-cruiser the goblins bought dirt cheap, only to turn it into a high-end passenger/trade ship, Ebo thought as he stepped from the boarding plank to the starboard deck.
“…Please make yourselves comfortable down in the cabin level at the stern a’ da’ ship! You’ll find enough rooms ta’ share and a common area to gather n’ discuss. There’s also a craftin’ table if anyone of you’s is an alchemist, or just need a place ta work. If ya need me, I will be on deck overseein’ mah crew. Once we’re ready ta go you should ‘ere a bell. We will depaht shortly der’afteh.” Odenan simply nodded at the captain and motioned his Grimtotems to proceed below deck.
“Oh, and keep da mutt inside and away from the stores, you guys are responsible for da’ mess it makes…”, captain Fuselighter concluded, pointing towards Slaughtermaw who looked at his master, Talon, for instruction. The slogged, heat-stroked, tired hunter made his way into the nearest room, threw his gear at a corner of the small quarters and proceeded to collapse in one of the two beds, with his pet doing the same in another corner. Succeeding in his task came at a bit of a price, as he had to spend all day in-wait under the heat of the Barrens’ sun, just to proceed into Camp Taurajo, undetected, only to fill as much loot as he could from the Horde coffer. In the night of his task he also needed to place the key back on the corpse of the former Horde Sergeant to remove any trace of evidence back to the Grimtotems. He apparently made it to Ratchet a few hours prior to boarding the ship he was now on. The gold he had… “acquired”… was used to buy food, drink, weapons, arrows, potions, and reagents for the shamans to prepare. Dagwa, the only female shaman, followed in behind Talon with water skin and a damp cool cloth in hand and proceeded to apply it to the dishevelled Grimtotem hunter, their voices quiet, with bouts of giggling heard by those setting up in the main common area. Since they were the only party on the ship aside from the crew, the living quarters of the ship belonged to the Grimtotem.
Ebo set up the bar area with a small portion of the supplies they bought in Ratchet, lining up Plainstrider sausage links, drinks and draught, and various other morsels on the bar table. The others scattered and claimed rooms, and set up their “personal” areas in the common room. Odenan claimed the stern most common area which looked like a dining room with a massive table in the middle, surrounded by windows. He began laying down maps and documents. No doubt getting our orders in…order.
-SLAM-
A bronze beer mug hit the bar table behind Ebo.
“Fill me up with that Dwarven draught, water-boy!”, Thunder demanded cheerfully. Ebo complied, loosening the tap on the draught keg and spiralling the precious fluid into the massive warrior’s mug as he cheered at the spectacle. As quickly as the mug filled, it was entirely emptied, followed by a proud, long belch from Thunder’s maw. It dragged on long enough that Kandra stopped waxing her bowstring mid-stroke and looked up, rolling her eyes under her hooded face and resuming her task just as Thunder’s belch died down.
“You should hear what comes out his a$$.”, immediately hissed the passing-by protection warrior Toros Bramblesmash, who preemptively raised his arms in defence with a smile. Thunder sternly, but playfully, swung at Toros, who compared the weak strike to that of a gnome tickle, prompting Thunder to get up and trade shots in a playful manner.
During the pretend-scuffle, Krag got up and tried to stop the warriors from getting out of hand.
“Listen…”, he pleaded once, garnering attention from both warriors.
“…Listen.”, he continued, placing a hand on each warriors shoulder and locking eyes with the warriors as there was a short silence from the scene.
Krag let out a terribly loud flatulence, slowly grinning as he did. Misko and Noodin, witnessing the whole ordeal, burst out laughing at their table, Ebo slammed his hand down over and over in laughter, Thunder and Toros immediately disengaged, bellowing hysterically, and a smile crept across Kandra’s face, her eyes still fixed on her waxing task. Even Odenan, standing silently at the room entrance, widened his eyes as he was both impressed and disgusted, forcing a chuckle under his grin.
The Grimtotems resumed settling in, tinkering with their belongings and conversing among one another. It wasn’t long before the large bell on the ships centre-most mast was tolled thrice. A whistle was heard from the pipe-speaker that was connected to the captain’s room.
“This thing on? **-**Ahem-, Listen up, dis’ yeh’ cap’n speakin’, we’re all set n’ ready ta’ sail. We’re headed east and north a bit, towards nord’ern Tirisfal Glades. Expect a few days travel, probly ‘round foah(4). Also, deh’ Horde n’ deh’ Alliance have been at each-uddeh’s troats but that shouldn’t be a problem as we are part a’ da’ Steamwheedle cartel. Expect what ya’ usually would at sea, maybe a bit a’ rain, a bit a’ waves, but nuttin’ to hairy. Captain Fuselighter out!”
Moments later, the tell tale shifting and rocking began, and the Kaja Cruizer was fast exiting the Ratchet port. Talon and Dagwa came into the common room to join the rest of their crew as they began downing bottle after bottle of liquor. Talon was feeling a lot better after Dagwa’s visit. I guess she took the heat out of the heat-stroke.
All the Shamans, and even Toros, had Hearthstone decks and engaged in some card entertainment. Odenan would walk to the deck entrances every now and then to counter would-be eavesdroppers, and Noodin started preparing some alchemy at the workbench down the ship’s aisle way.
The Grimtotems surfaced to the deck, manned by a small portion of the crew, and witnessed the Echo Isles becoming more distant as the minutes passed with Durotar becoming one with the horizon…
“This is it.” Odenan turned and addressed his task force.
“You all know what needs to be done, and what is at stake, should we fail. We cannot fail.”, he moved in closer and lowered his voice to a whisper, “…For we are Grimtotem, and our future awaits.”
The hull of the Kaja Cruizer was hammered by wave after wave of salt water during the storm. The crew could be heard singing shanties above deck as they tended the sails and masts to adjust the ship for it to maneuver the waves correctly. The collective mood of the Grimtotems was as dark as the clouds above them in the middle of the sea.
“-Ahem-, this is cap’n Fuselighter. We got a bit o’ turbulence on the watah, and if ya couldn’t tell, we got quite the storm brewin’ ‘ere. I want all crews teh- WHAT IS THA-”.
Just then a jolt of force knocked everyone aside, accompanied by the sound of wood internally cracking. Panic ensued as the captain tried to relay the last bit of messages he could get out of the pipe-system before it was crushed and bent.
“DRAGON-TURTLE! DEH NAGA ARE ATTACKIN’, EVERYBODY GET UP-”, A secondary jolt and more cracking could be heard as the Grimtotems raced to get battle-ready. Ebo quickly made way to his quarters and loaded up on potions and grabbed his channelling staff. He staggered as he followed Dagwa up the lob-sided stairs to join the fray taking place on the disintegrating deck. It was chaotic to say the least.
A massive Dragon-turtle was lodged on the port deck, forcing a near 30 degree slope toward it as it lay sprawled, crushing the first 2 levels and most of the port side of the ship into splinters and wreckage. It let out a massive roar that rivalled the thunder of the storm as naga warriors slithered from the sea onto the deck, hissing at and attacking the defending crew with hatred and fervor.
Toros was at the fore with some of the crew, fighting back the growing Naga front-line. Dagwa rushed in the fray, using the elements to enhance her martial prowess, with the other shamans offering what support they could. Odenan expertly defended against anything coming up towards the stern, which is where the captain’s command cabin was. Odenan managed to disarm the trident from a charging Naga warrior with one hatchet, pivoting and quickly dispatched his foe with a back-swing from his other hatchet. Captain Fuselighter also held his ground, the little goblin directing the trident thrust into the wood of his deck with his sabre, quickly discharging his hand cannon into the chest of the Naga attacker with a loud BAM that competed with the lightning above, resulting in a hole where his target’s sternum used to be.
The crew and Grimtotem were holding for the time being, but the Naga were starting to swarm, with waves of Murloc slave-warriors crowding the front-line, threatening to over whelm the dying crew-defenders. Worse still was the Dragon-turtle seemingly picking it’s next crew member to be devoured like morsels on a platter.
A young human woman of the Kaja Cruizer crew looked up at the dragon-turtle who stopped to eye her for it’s next bite. She let out a panicked shriek and in a futile motion, raised her sabre as it prepared to bite, but a blur of black hair and battle-totem slammed into the side of the dragon-turtle’s face. Thunder Centaurbane got the attention of the beast, as it whipped it’s roaring head to get the annoying Tauren warrior off. Thunder held for as long as he could but the beast was clever. It paused, and started jolting it’s head up and down. Thunder could only hold on so long as the beast’s slick scales offered little to grip onto. He was eventually flung upward mid air, and the beast opened it’s gore-caked, massive-beaked maw to deliver it’s powerful, killing snapping-bite. In a split second reaction, Thunder managed to orient his battle-totem to use as a support beam against the roof and mandible of its mouth. The creature’s powerful bite wasn’t enough to crack the battle-totem, and it drove into the roof of it’s mouth. Screaming in pain and panicking, the massive dragon-turtle shook Thunder off and retreated into the raging tides of the sea.
The Grimtotem warrior was not fortunate on his landing; The Kaja Cruizer, upon ridding itself of it’s unbalanced weight, came jolting back up to it’s correct levelled orientation but with nearly half the hull crushed into jagged splinters. He was impaled on a cracked support beam, through the chest.
Toros Bramblesmash witnessed the warrior, Thunder Centaurbane, fade away.
“NO.”, he stated in disbelief, as he deflected blow after blow, holding the front-line with the dying crew-mates. With a roar and the wild rage and grief flowing through his veins, he charged forth with his wall-shield tilted sideways to contact as much enemies as he could. The slammed enemies were being pushed as one off the edge of the splintered port-side of the ship.
The shamans, who dared not use lightning with their allies so close, got the hint.
“GET READY!”, Dagwa commanded after she crushed the face of the murloc infront of her with her mace.
Most of the Naga front-line was now in the salt water of the sea, with the rest scattering to cover on and in the ship. Misko, Noodin, Krag, and Dagwa channelled as one and began to summon a lightning strike. The loud, bright BANG connected with the water just below the broken side of the ship, where a majority of the Naga forces fought to climb back up from. The force knocked everyone and everything back away from it, but the results were conclusive. Whatever was in the water below was now cooked. However there still remained quite a few Naga on the half-cracked ship.
Talon, who was near the back of the defending force, was lining up the next target that was not behind the cover of whatever remained on the deck of the ship. Just then, a Snap-dragon’s poison globule came flying from behind, coating the hunter with its corrosive poison. The Hunter, taken by surprise, immediately turned and fired an arrow at the creature but it proved to be an elusive predator and leapt down the stern of the ship, dodging the deadly projectile. Slaughtermaw immediately jumped after it, disappearing from the deck. Talon felt the effects on his skin as the corrosive bile reacted with his skin. Ebo, noticing the pained grunts of Talon as the hunter was forced to his knees in pain, ran to aid his tribesmen. Just then the captain cried out. “WAVE, WAVE, ROGUE WAVE!”
The ship could not take another stressful hit. The approaching wave slammed the side of the Kaja Cruizer, cracking it in twain. The bow was now on its own, with some of the crew flying overboard and fighting to get onto anything that was floating in the violent storm. Thunder’s lifeless, impaled corpse now rode the ebbing waves and was carried out to sea. The two halves of the ship were now taking in water, and sinking fast. The remainder of the Naga forces retreated, or were killed doing so with Kandra expertly guiding her arrows to seal their fates, and the shamans working their elemental magic to deadly effect.
Ebo, shaken, but still aboard to whatever fleeting time remained for the stern half of the ship, could not locate Talon.
“TALON!? HAS ANYONE SEEN TALON!”, Ebo cried out, as the ship started to slowly angle downward.
Odenan gave the cold, obvious command.
“Grab as much supplies as you can, and find the largest, flattest piece of wood you can. A table, a door, hatch, anything. Talon is lost, as is Thunder, but we can still honor them by surviving. But we need to move, NOW.”
Ebo did as instructed. The blank, numb feeling he felt as a child began to surface as he monotonously did as he was commanded to. The fast rising water in the slanted chamber that used to be his quarters darkened everything in the ship as the torch lamps were slowly being extinguished as the ship began to submerge deeper. Just then, a crate marked “fish oil”, was floating among the building wreckage at the corner of Ebo’s eye. He instantly recalled a recipe taught by the water keeper he was instructed to assist as a child. The application and manipulation of the essence of fish oil could be used to make one walk along water, if they were careful enough to not disrupt the magical enchantment.
In a moments notice, he grabbed the crate and headed up the stairs to the deck, or what remained of it. Upon arriving, he seen the captain and the rest of the Grimtotems at the stern of the ship.
“…and my crew ‘ave disbanded n’ scattehd’ to the wind. Besides, deh’ cap’n always goes down wit’ deh’ ship.”, he solemnly vowed.
Ebo interjected, “Captain Fuselighter, I can enchant us so we can stay above the water of the ocean. You don’t have to-”, he was cut off by gesture of the captain’s hand. With a slight forced smile he began, “Na, na. See, deh cap’n is responsible for deh ship, which is Steamwheedle cartel property. Trade prince Gallywix says if we come back ta’ shore wit’out deh ship, our families will take our place…literally.”
“I see…”, Stated Odenan, “We will carry on the name of the Kaja Cruizer and her captain, Zippo Fuselighter.”. He turned towards Ebo, “Do what you must, water shaman.”
With the crate ripped open to reveal the precious fish oil vials, Ebo began extracting their essence, channelling it into the beings of his tribe-mates, and then finally upon himself. It was only a matter of time before the sinking stern of the Kaja Cruizer would be claimed by the sea. The captain shut his door and sat on his chair, which constantly wanted to slide into the anchored table. He readied a round in the chamber of his pistol, glinting lowly in the dying torch-light as he studied a picture of his wife, in thought with what little time remained.
Correcting his posture upright, he readied the hammer of his weapon. Closing his eyes, he aimed it upon himself.
-BAM-
The Grimtotems shifted their attention, as one, towards the submerging captain’s cabin. Packages and crates of goods came bobbing to the surface, riding the ebb and flow of the waves that were starting to calm for the time being. The Grimtotems spent the next few minutes getting used to the odd sensation of the waves pushing their legs at different forces as they collected what they could.
Odenan then tasked the shamans to look for the nearest land source. Krag channelled his far-sight ability, honing in on the nearest source of earth.
“…That way. It must be east.”, he deduced. The dark overcast and storming clouds made it impossible to tell their direction. The Grimtotems found a large part of the deck that broke off and used it as you would a sled upon snow, carrying what precious supplies they could muster from the wreckage. They headed towards Krag’s indicated direction, passing by a floating Snap-dragon corpse with it’s stomach chewn out. Not far from it was the corpse of Slaughtermaw, with multiple tridents sticking from his perforated body.
“Keep moving”, Odenan simply commanded, with lightning dancing across the sky.
Chapter 6
Dagwa Ebonhorn kept up appearances as she marched along her tribesmen afloat above the sea. Ebo knew better. The battle-shaman had been close to Talon Grimbow. Ebo could recall a few years prior of the budding relationship between Talon and Dagwa when he lived in the Stonetalon mountains with his Grimtotem tribe-mates. Talon would go off on his daily “hunting trip” at the same time Dagwa would be off to “commune with the spirits”. It wasn’t hard to figure out, especially when they would return down the same trail into the village. He is now one with the Earth mother…
Ebo prepared the last of the fish oil for the water-walking enchantments. The crew had been marching atop the sea for two days straight since the storm ended. With the presence of the sun, the Grimtotems could now tell their direction, yet, there was no land in sight. Just the surreal, wide, flat expanse of the now-calm sea.
Toros had been silent the entire march. He had been the Pipe-bearer to Thunder’s wedding. He could only wonder about the wife and three children Thunder would leave behind. The burden of the supply-raft he was hauling along the crests of the water compared very little to the loss of a fellow warrior. Drinking partner. Battle-mate. Best friend.
“Mmmn”, Kandra pointed to the sky where seagulls were flocked.
“…Yes I sense it. Dying land…”, The ragged-enduring earth shaman piped up, “…a few more hours on the sea and we will be on solid ground.”, Krag finished.
Ebo once again purified the saline water of the sea for his comrades, filling up their flasks from the eternal source of drinkable water. Misko and Noodin took turns crafting and cooking what they could on the raft, creating a variety of potions that would enhance them in the times ahead.
“Ebow’ji, how long will the last of the oil enchantment keep us afloat?”, inquired Odenan after some time.
The amount of oil used in the last application was the last of the oil he had. It was not even half of what was originally applied.
“Just less than half of our last interval…”
“…Not good”, Odenan gave his verdict.
The rocky cliff was just in sight of the horizon, as the Grimtotems swam at a controlled pace. The raft could only bear room enough for three Grimtotem bodies in addition to the dwindling supplies aboard which three others in the water took turns pushing forward, kicking their hooves in a slow controlled manner. The remaining two swam close by, backs to the water, slowly kicking the sea on their way to land.
“Couldn’t you just force the water behind us to push the raft?!?”, Misko complained as he kicked his hooves in the water.
Ebo, for the tenth time, explained that the amount of mana needed to sustain the raft at sea would be monumental, not to mention, whoever could not fit on the raft would be left out to sea to die, as they could not catch up, let alone match the pace…
“We are nearly there. Maintain the pace and we will make-”, Just then, Odenan was immediately pulled under the surface of the dark sea. The Grimtotems immediately halted as one, pausing with baited-breath as they awaited their leader to re-surface.
A tense moment after, a massive sea Skrog broke from the surface with Odenan gasping for air in it’s right hand. It’s torso was covered in ship wreckage with parts of hulls from all different makes of sea-vessels, forming a sort of make-shift armor. It growled, bearing it’s large teeth and furrowing it’s angered brows, posing in an aggressive stance.
“DON’T…ACT AGGRESSIVE…STAND…DOWN.”, Odenan managed to squeak out from the colossal grasp of the sea Skrog.
“GRRRHGH”, the giant loudly and aggressively grunted, bringing his hand-held captive face to face, as if to silence the Tauren leader. It turned to the surprised Grimtotems near the raft, and pointed it’s large scaled finger at the group.
“THE…RAFT…GIVE IT…THE RAFT.”, Odenan commanded half-consciously as the life was slowly being squeezed out of him.
The Grimtotems moved away from the raft, swimming away as fast as they could. The sea Skrog picked-up on the gesture and tossed Odenan to the side as you would like the peel of a banana, and extended it’s massive arm to claim it’s newest addition to it’s armour set. It whipped aside the supplies on the raft, scattering them everywhere among the surface of the sea, and immediately inspected the raft. Happy with it’s haul, it turned and submerged into the sea, descending with each step.
Noodin and Toros made their way to a barely-conscious Odenan, fighting to stay afloat, doing everything he could to keep his head above water. Producing a healing potion he had crafted previously, Noodin administered the contents of the vial to Odenan. A moment later, the Grimtotem leader let out a hacking cough, cleared his throat, and collected himself.
“How…very quiet…for such large creatures…”, he jested, and turned his head towards the cliffs on the horizon. “…Keep swimming”.
An hour had past as they kicked and waded their way towards the mountainous coast which began to loom over the fatigued Taurens. There was very little shore along the jagged mountainous coastline to set up any kind of camp, however, they now lacked the supplies to even set one up.
Slowly, one by one, the soaked Grimtotems crawled up to the base of the mountain cliff, sat upright, and closed their eyes, listening to the sound of slow, heavy breathing and soft crashing waves lulling them into a collective reprieve. There were no words or commands for rest needed to be given at this time, for Odenan knew the morale and energy of his troupe.
Ebow’ji let the tides of rest pull him under with the rest of his tribe-mates, and slipped into a much needed nap. The waves came up once and a while, licking the backside of his hooves and legs with their warm caress, and then once again receding back into the sea. The sky was dark, near pitch black by now, which betrayed the bright aqueous water below it’s horizon. Did we sleep this long? Ebow’ji noticed 2 distant figures in the sea standing in the waves looking straight at him with 2 red glowing dots for eyes each, undeniably Tauren. Talon? THUNDER?! The warmth of the sea caught his attention as he looked down. There was now an ocean of blood where the sea should have been, engulfing the resting Grimtotems in their ebb and flow, and carrying them out to sea. With his heart racing yet his body anchored to the beach, his attention now fixed to the pitch black sky where a shadowy, eerie dark glow was forming into a skull, impossibly large, taking up the entire horizon in which the nine figures of his Tribes-mates stood like warding statues, all affixed on Ebow’ji. The shadowy, dark violet glowing skull and Ebo’s gazes met for a moment, it’s eyes piercingly blue and cold, with neither balking or looking away for what seemed an eternity, unable to look away.
“Ebow’ji…”, Ebo heard it say, almost whisper like, it’s voice female but somewhat familiar…
“Ebo.”
Ebo jolted slightly awake and was greeted by Kandra who had her water flask out.
“Yes, yes, Kandra. Give me a moment.”, Ebo stated annoyed and razzled as he was slow to stand on the small narrow beach, using the mountain wall as support. The muscles spasmed and strained into place, bringing both a slight pain and rush of wakefulness as he became more upright. He performed his duty once more and purified the salt water of the sea so that his tribe-mate could stay hydrated, slowly administering the precious liquid into Kandra’s flask.
Ebo had not seen Kandra out of her hood, armour and clothing until now. With the majority of her clothing and gear on a nearby rock drying in the past-midday sun, she had only her leather skin under-garments on. She had the notoriously coal-like hair as any Grimtotem Tauren would, yet she was not as tall as many of her other peers, which helped her in her designated role as a scout and marksman. Although she lacked the relatively tall height Tauren females are known for, her very feminine stature more than made up for it, which came to Ebo’s mind as he noticed the form of her thick yet muscular thighs tapering up to her skinny waist which melded in with her toned core. Working his eyes upward to her undeniably large, almost massive breasts that the damp leather skins were fighting to contain. For a Tauren female, she hid her attractiveness well under her usual attire…
“Ebo!?”, Kandra said accusingly, her brows furrowed slightly with her lips forming into a playful grin as she withdrew her over-flowing flask, casually turning around and covering her curves. Ebo caught himself as he quickly disengaged the spell-channelling and looked away towards his sleeping comrades. He made himself busy as he checked over his recovering tribesmen, trying to block out Kandra’s shocking attractiveness that lingered in his mind along the way. He triaged, slowly but surely, toward the end of the lined-up sleeping Grimtotems, filling their flasks with purified water until he finally made his way to where Misko rested, clutched onto a bundle of salvaged, blank totems in a roped-up bundle.
Good, no serious wounds and they’re all still breathing…
Ebo felt a soft, curious tugging on his leg-hairs just above his hoof. He turned and looked down to see a singular wide-eyed murloc tadpole staring up at him in amazement and wonder.
“Glaugkh!”, the cute little creature stated as it kept it’s comically large eyes locked on Ebo’s. Brave little thing…, Ebo thought.
“RAAAGHGHG!”, Ebo yelled down at the poor little murloc, raising his arms up as a bear would and producing an angry, frightening face. The frightened tadpole emitted a shocked face and a slight little “EEEK” for a split moment and then bolted in the water toward the sea, swimming down the beach and around the bend of the mountain wall corner with surprising speed.
The Grimtotem task force was woken at the roar, and came-to, slowly rising like the undead along the narrow, rocky, treacherous beach.
“That’s one way to wake us.”, Krag stated, clearly annoyed at the break in his much needed rest.
“I am glad you did.”, Odenan interjected, shaking off the sleep, “We need to move while the sun is high. What was that yelling about anyway? You could have just… you know… splashed the surrounding ocean at us…”.
“It was a murloc tadpole. Scared it away.”, Ebo casually explained. Odenan’s expression dropped into a more serious face, his blue eyes becoming more concerned.
“Which way did it go.”, He demanded.
“To the South, around the cliff-corner there”, Ebo gestured.
Odenan raced as he staggered along the narrow beach, down toward the cliff-corner.
As he peered around it, he saw a beach-like murloc settlement tucked into a cove the mountainous terrain allowed in the distance. Hundreds of them. He immediately withdrew and addressed his task force, privately scolding Ebo as he passed by, muttering “…You should have killed it…”.
“We need to move out. Now. Along the cliff, northward. Hundreds of murlocs reside around the southern cliff corner, not too far away. I’m sure our ferocious water-boy alerted them by scaring the tadpole off…” Odenan stated.
“Where abouts are we?”, Toros inquired.
“We have to be along the west coast of the Ghostlands. I can sense the dead and corrupted land to the north east.”, Krag surmised with his eyes closed.
“Alright, lets MOOooove”, Odenan exaggerated his command as he hopped along the beach at a fair pace, given the imminent threat. The Grimtotems followed in-tow, slowly but surely, given the trial-at-sea they were days-before subjected to.
The coastline was treacherous but not un-permitting. Often, while nearing the soft rolling waves against the extremely narrow beach-lines that would intermittently grace the haggard-traversing task force, a floating crate or barrel accompanied by wreckage and driftwood from the Kaja Cruizer greeted them on occasion, offering a supply of very little for the path ahead. A crate of bottled sweet nectar, some Goldenbark apples, salted dried-but-now-wetted fish, a spear here and there, and even a few small, but very precious mana potions.
Kandra, always further scouting ahead, was paused atop a jagged rock formation, her gaze fixed upon the tower in the distance that pierced the gathering, dark clouded skies above it, disappearing into the foggy haze at it’s base. Down below, the tired hearts of the Grimtotems leapt with joy.
Finally, Ebo thought to himself.
With newfound fervor, the Grimtotems made their way along the steep, vertical mountainsides, treading the shallow sea-water at the base of the mountain range.
The tower’s features became more prevalent as they neared, showing crimson-red coloured colossal wings bordered with gold near the zenith among the dusk-darkening clouds, attached along a pearl-white elegant spire littered with a green, elegant sporadically creeping moss, it’s smooth profile priodically interrupted by platforms that defied gravity, their edges caressed in bronze-gold coloured accented borders.
Approaching the beach below from around the dwindling and descending cliff edge, the Grimtotems caught the notice of a pale beach-wading murloc, who slowly stared to shamble it’s way to them, dead eyes fixed on it’s new meal…
Kandra immediately nocked and loosed an arrow in a smooth motion, hitting the murloc square between it’s lateral bulging eyes. The murloc’s head cocked back from the impact for a moment, before it paused and slowly slumped face down into the shallow water of the beach.
“It is clear now. These are the Ghostlands.”, Odenan said, studying in the distance the bone-white, bright-green-spotted and infected trees that spiralled upward neatly, branching out into the scarce remaining auburn-orange leaves that defiantly stayed on their infected branches. The remaining beauty of the foliage was surprising to say the least, given that the Scourge infested the lands in great numbers. Much like the Blood-Elves, the land would be resilient to the last.
Kandra moved forward, taking cover from shadow to shadow. The Grimtotem task force followed suit, moving along the beach-to-cliff edge of the terrain to gain a foothold into the Ghostlands.
Floating ahead, along a cobble-stone path, was a ghostly feminine figure.
A banshee.
The poor agonized soul of a victim whose anger, hatred and misery now served her slayers. The silent Grimtotems watched from higher ground, staying low to keep their stealthy status ensured. The grounds surrounding the tower base and the ramping-path leading to it was littered with undead, cultists, and banshees. Not wanting to have hordes of undead descend upon them, they opted to move further inland, hoping to establish an outpost to begin their operation in.
“Alright.”, Odenan quietly began, overlooking the forest beyond the path to the east of the tower, “We make a break to the cover of the forest, and then to any Blood-elven hold we can find. From there we present ourselves as Earthen-Ring Shamans that have come to help heal and purify the land. Hopefully they can show us some courtesy but do not expect that from an elf. Just remember, should you converse with the local Blood-Elves who know Orcish common, you will be having TWO conversations at the same time; The one you are currently having, and the one they are working you towards…”, Odenan paused, overlooking his command.
“I can speak Thalassian quite well, so let me do the talking–where is Noodin.”, Odenan cut himself off after noticing an audience of only six.
The group collectively looked around, but it was Misko who spotted Noodin near below, locked in a hypnotic gaze with a banshee.
“NOODIN!”, Misko called out, racing toward his friend, with his tribesmen following close behind. But it was too little too late. The Banshees essence flowed and warped into Noodin’s body and engaged in a fight for control over the wind-shaman.
“AAGH…AAARRRRRRGHGH!”, Noodin cried out, his eyes rolling back, with his body beginning to float as he was lifted slightly above ground in a horizontal fashion.
“*THIS BODY IS MINE!-*NO.”, Noodin’s voice violently changed back and forth while he contorted mid-air. As his peers arrived to help, he dropped to the ground, coughing.
“Noodin! Noodin, are you alright?”, Misko checked his friend over, helping him to his hooves. As he did, Noodin shoved Misko away, an expression of rage and hatred dancing across his face, his eyes no longer his own.
“[Thalassian]Ten thousand years of defending this land. Only to die at the hands of these undead defilers!”, The entity that was now Noodin cried out, “[Thalassian]Now you wretched Shu’halo come here…YOU WILL SHARE MY FATE AND WORSE!”, It finished as it lunged for the shocked and unprepared Misko Slaghoof, wrapping the hands of Noodin around his former friend’s throat. With the two struggling, Odenan waved the swarming Grimtotems back, his face solemn as he did so, producing a long, thin dagger.
“Noodin?!”, Misko managed to say, doing all he could to wrest the crushing hands of his former friend away from his throat. His eyes looked into the hate filled, snarling gaze that was no longer his long-time friend’s for the last time, as Odenan pierced the back of Noodin’s skull, his expression going blank and dead as the stare that now met Misko’s bewildered face.
“No…no, no-no-no-no, please no, NOODIN.”, Misko tried to address his now dead friend as he placed Noodin’s corpse aside and attempted to wake him. Odenan’s pained expression turned away from the group to the beach they once avoided.
Toros’ breathing became more intense and laboured after witnessing the choice-less, merciful killing, Kandra’s eyes were fixed on Odenan, then back to Misko, Krag sank to his knees before his friend’s corpse and Ebo and Dagwa placed a their hands on Noodin for the last time. As one, they spiritually purged the corpse of their former friend to ensure he wouldn not rise. Ebo noticed Dagwa’s hand beginning to tremble with rage.
“[Common] AHA HA HA HA.”, came a cackle from the direction of the cobble-stone path. A Deathholme cultist stood on the elevated path backed by ghouls and shambling dead, looking down at the clearing next to the beach where the commotion garnered her attention.
“[Common] You come a long, long way, cow-men, only to die…”
“[Common] We have come to make a deal with the leader of the Scourge.” Odenan hissed back, buying time for his tribesmen.
“[Taurahe] Shut her ugly tongue up.”, Dagwa warned through gritted teeth, her body language betraying the hidden hatred and anger rising in her, with a single tear falling from her shut eyes as she clutched her mace and axe tightly.
Odenan raised his arm to demand silence from Dagwa as the suprised cultist inquired further.
“[Common] Have you now?”, she said with a grin, “[Common] What would the Scourge possibly want from eight…pardon…SEVEN cow-men, aside from usable corpses?”
Ebo noticed Dagwa’s angered breathing intensifying, breathing through her teeth as her head slowly shook back and forth with arcing starting to form at her mace’s end. Whatever Odenan and the cultist were saying, all but Odenan could not discern what was being said.
Odenan began, “[Common] We represent a faction of Tauren-”
Just then a wicked rage-filled shrieking scream that would rival a banshee filled the clearing followed by a loud humming buzz accompanying a bright flash and a crackling bang that raced past Odenan and into the Cultist on the hill, chaining to the undead surrounding her, igniting them all as they hit the ground smouldering. TRULY dead.
Immediately after, howling, shrieking, and undead groans could be heard in the distance.
“DAGWA.”, the tone of Odenan demanded an answer to his underling’s undisciplined actions. He noticed her tears and the sobbing she fought hard to hold back as she blankly stared towards the tower. He closed his eyes and let loose a heavy sigh.
“[Thalassian] Shu’halo, this way.”, came a whispered voice from a well camouflaged forest figure.
Odenan looked in the direction of whisper, then quickly back to his task force and gave the command, pointing to the forest;
“RUN!”
This story will continue on in the Vol.2 post!
The Life before Deathlord Bloodrott Vol.2 - Lore / World’s End Tavern: Role-play and Fan Fiction - World of Warcraft Forums (blizzard.com)