Hello again, fellow adventurers. This post needed to be made to continue the tale of the Life before Deathlord Bloodrott! (because I ran out of room!)
*link to Volume 1:
The Life before Deathlord Bloodrott Vol.1 - Lore / World’s End Tavern: Role-play and Fan Fiction - World of Warcraft Forums (blizzard.com)
Please note chapter 8 will be in link format and is NSFW, which is why the post that contained chapter 8 was removed previously. (it’s nothing hardcore, but gets pretty dicey)
*Also, all dialogue that is not accompanied with a language beside it is assumed to be in Orcish (Horde Common). If there are no other races besides Tauren around, then assume [Taurahe] as the language used.
So now… on with the show!
Chapter 7
The surreal darkness of the forest gave it a night-like appeal despite the setting sun. The mass of Scourge forces in pursuit could not keep up to the retreating Grimtotem task force under Sin’dorei guidance. The pair of rangers who led them out of danger sufficed it safe enough for a breather in a bush-laden small clearing.
[Thalassian] “You keep up quite well, Shu’halo. What are your people doing in the land of the highborne?”, one of the dutiful rangers inquired sternly.
Odenan replied after a few heavy breathes, [Thalassian] “We are Earthen-Ring Shamans tasked with the healing and cleansing of this land.”
The seasoned Blood-elf turned his head to his partner, half-grinning, then questioned, yet again, one eyebrow higher than the other, [Thalassian] “And how is it that you know the language of the highborne? When last I heard, the Shu’halo had joined the Orcish Horde. For what purpose does horde training entail the language of my people, now?”, he finished as he elegantly and smoothly raised his hand.
The surrounding bushes rustled to reveal a small platoon of Blood-elves, arrows nocked, awaiting the command to fire. All but Odenan huddled together facing toward the threat.
The ranger-captain continued in Orcish, “You see I find it very peculiar how Earthen-Ring Shamans come in from the sea without a ship in sight, then proceed to meander in scourge infested areas with the ability to understand Thalassian. One would consider your intentions… untrue?.. Given the circumstances?”, he quipped, eyeing his surrounding troops. “Choose your next words carefully, Shu’halo.”
Odenan closed his eyes, bowing slightly and casually strode several steps forward, smiling; “My good elf, our intention in this land is as good in nature as I claim it to be. Though, the circumstances leading up to our arrival have not been. I studied the fair language of the Blood-elves because misinterpretation would have obviously been an issue upon arrival. I stress, we are not here to bring more unwarranted harm to your people and the land itself… and yes, we are Horde shamans. And I can prove it…”, Odenan claimed as he looked towards Ebo.
“Ebow’ji, if you would.”, Odenan instructed, slowly nodding and staring intently.
The Horde commendation medal…
Stepping forward and revealing the Horde commendation medal Tara Spearcry had given to Ebo, the ranger-captain’s partner recognized it immediately as her trained eyes zeroed in on the medal. A disgusted feeling crept along Ebo’s back, nestling deep in his gut.
[Thalassian] “Captain Valdross, that is a Horde commendation…”, she informed.
“So it is.”, the captain lingered in a tense moment, then closed his fist and lowered his arm in a smooth, controlled manner. The surrounding forces relaxed their deadly armaments as he did so.
“…And your name, Shu’halo?”, he demanded.
“I am Odenan Farwander. I serve as the leader and speaker for our group. We hail from the Farwander clan, and these are my tribe-mates.”, Odenan gestured to the group, starting with Ebo.
“This is Ebow’ji Farwander, skilled in the art of restoration and elemental water magic.”, he falsely introduced Ebo, proceeding as he did with the rest of his command.
“…And this is Misko Farwander, totemic craftsman and a competent weaver of elemental fire. To his left is what remains of our personal guard, aside from me, Toros Farwander. You will find no other stalwart than he. To our fire shaman’s right is our communicator to the spirits of the land and instrumental to our cause, the earth shaman, Krag Farwander. Just behind him is the taller of our two female tribe-mates, and skilled in a variety of elemental magic, Dagwa Farwander. Lastly, our scout and hunts-woman, Kandra Farwander.”
“So you are all family.”, Captain Valdross surmised, his tone matching his unimpressed look.
“Yes, in a sense. We hail from the same tribe.”, Odenan casually explained.
“…Very well. We march northeastward for Tranquillien. There you can register with the Dame Auriferous, take refuge, mourn your fallen,”, captain Valdross said, eyeing the pained and worn-down expressions of Dagwa and Misko, “… and perhaps indulge us of yourselves, should my people have you and that time permits, Shu’halo. We move now, for we can elude the enemy, but not dusk.”, the captain commanded, taking point as he disappeared into the brushes.
His lieutenant lingered and awaited the tired Grimtotems as they readied themselves, yet again, for travel. She made her way over to Ebo.
“Captain Ithenirin Valdross is a stern man but that is what keeps us alive in the Ghostlands. I am lieutenant Noraldrys Amberquill of the Farstriders. I do so wish to hear how you earned that commendation.”, she began in Orcish as they moved toward the refuge of Tranquillien, “I have been studying Horde customs and tactics as of late. I will have many more questions when we arrive at Tranquillien, but now, we must make haste.”
The Grimtotems stampeded out of the clearing, past the brush, and behind a small number of nimble, well-footed Blood-elf rangers. They were also being tailed by the rear guard as if to be contained. Do not expect courtesy from an elf, indeed…
Not far from the Dead Scar; a straight of defiled land left in wake of Arthas and the Scourge during the third war, sat the refuge-outpost village of Tranquillien.
Located near a mountainside and elevated securely enough to be out of the way of Arthas’ initial assault on their lands, Tranquillien remained one of the last safe hubs against the threat of the Scourge in the Ghostlands. Unless you knew of a better way into the Eversong Woods, Tranquillien was your first stop toward the Blood-elf capital of Silvermoon.
Making their way onto the cobble-stone paths that sloped up to their destination, the Grimtotems were now in a formal escorted march, led by captain Ithenirin Valdross. The path upward was sporadically adorned with a brief run of fencing that sported a curved look as the wood seemed to bend and warp into an attractive, neat form from one post to another. Lining every other fence were lanterns that emitted an inviting light-blue glow that lit the way up into Tranquillien.
Greeting the travellers were two Blood-elven guards adorned in the crimson and gold-trimmed heavy armor of the Sin’dorei. Tapping their dual curve-ended polearms in attention to the presence of the captain, they faced inward and made way for the platoon bearing the false Earthen-Ring guests. Along the way, near the border of the outpost, were a variety of merchants selling an array of exotic goods under the great, massive canopies of lesser infected trees.
The Grimtotems noticed a Forsaken caravan parked along the side of the larger, eastern complex, which lieutenant Noraldrys parted from the march towards.
We may already be too late…, Ebo thought to himself as they came to a halt at a large statue of two dancing maidens that dominated the centre of the main hub of Tranquillien.
The platoon loosened formation and captain Valdross approached Odenan, addressing him in a more friendly manner.
[Thalassian] “It seems we part ways, Odenan of clan Farwander. You would forgive me my initial disposition. I have many threats to deal with as we secure these lands for safe travel. Should anything happen to the Forsaken delegation, it would not be borne of my incompetence or failure of duty.”, captain Valdross then looked towards the Forsaken caravan, his green eyes fixed on the approaching Forsaken entourage, “[Thalassian] Seems your Horde allies are interested in your presence, here, in this distant land I call home. You should have much to converse about.”, he added, placing his helmet back upon his silvery hair, maneuvering his long pointed ears into the side-slits. “Shorel’aran.”
The captain motioned his platoon to continue on down the road as he briskly made his way into the smaller building across the road adorned with an elaborate stone arbor.
Odenan muttered, “[Taurahe] He must be informing the civilian authority of our unscheduled arrival. Let me do the talking…and remember. You are all Earthen Ring shamans.”
The eerie-glowing dead eyes of the forsaken ambassador looked surprisingly lively. Given he was not expecting to see Tauren in the land of the Sin’dorei, his withered facial features and dying skin betrayed the wild curiosity he exhibited. The rest of his compatriots were equally ecstatic… for being undead, that is.
“Greetings from the dark lady, mighty Tauren! We are a long way from Thunder bluff, are we not?”, he began with a slight bow, his voice sounding surprisingly normal with a hint of former nobility, “I am ambassador Feodore Bonwick of the Forsaken, representing dark lady Sylvanas Windrunner.”, he stated proudly, turning toward the three other forsaken in his wake, “Accompanying me in this most important endeavour is my council comprised of councillor Tomas Moore and councillor Edward Wight. Our “young”, up-and-coming, and ever-so talented former Kirin Tor mage Conrad Brightstar, otherwise known as Mage Comboost, has been selected to serve as our magical liaison in this ancient, arcane land.”
The young, undead Mage known as Comboost presented himself with a slight bow.
I wonder if he could conjure up those mana-strudels I keep hearing about, Ebo thought at the annoying hunger pang lingering in his stomach.
The ambassador continued, “Our guard is… somewhere here, most likely wherever they sell the spirits. Alas, I fear I must ask you, what in Azeroth are the Earthen-Ring doing in the Ghostlands? Mister…?” he ended, with the raising of the majority of what little eyebrow hairs were left on his face.
“Odenan Farwander of the Earthen-Ring. It is good to meet allies in a land so far away as we attempt to cleanse this broken and corrupt land acre by acre, and work to establish a permanent solution to the Scourge that plague and destroy the restless and dying spirits of the land.”
“Very well! It seems our goals align!”, the ambassador summarized, then further studied the worn down, shoddy Tauren travellers, “I see your travels have not been as smooth as ours… please do tell what happened.”
“Yes!, I am also very interested in my good captain’s latest find!”, came the voice of a blood-elf female underneath the stone arbor.
“I am Dame Auriferous, and welcome to Tranquillien!”, she began as she moved closer to the gathering, “I see you have become acquainted with your allies from the Undercity. Rest assured, weary Tauren of the Earthen Ring, you are safe here.”
“Lady Auriferous, please allow our Earthen Ring guests a place to recover. I will provide compensation of gold from our funds.”, Feodore insisted.
“Very well. Please follow me towards the inn across the path… So tell me, how does one cross the sea without ship or zeppelin?!”, Dame Auriferous inquired towards the Earthen Ring guests, “There are hardly practitioners of the arcane among you…”
“A LOT of fish oil…”, Odenan began as they made their way to the cozy inn. “Perhaps our water-shaman can inform you.”
Ebo smiled slightly and began, “The essence of a being can be extracted into physical form in one way or another. Some are more difficult than others but their properties can still propagate in a concentrated form. With a bit of alchemy, and passed down tribal knowledge, and the right application of elemental magic, you can do some amazing things with such mundane material.”
“Indeed!”, piped up ambassador Feodore, “And on the subject of magic, mage Comboost, would you be so kind as to conjure some refreshment for our guests?”
The mage Comboost focused briefly, with glowing arcana swirling from his casting hands, warping and condensing into two nice serving trays loaded with mana-strudels, steaming with a sweet aroma on both his hands. One by one the tasty refreshments were taken and devoured as they made their way to the larger structure ahead of them, atop the hill.
“Kalarin! We have seven unintended visitors who were under duress in our land. Please make their stay as memorable as you can.”, insisted Dame Auriferous as she entered the inn.
The inn-keep Kalarin nodded, “It will be done, Dame.”
With a snap of his fingers, seven packages conjured in the space behind him. They were magically sealed and looked like folded tents accompanied with small green crystals.
“With these, you can set them up wherever you can find space outside. Currently as you can see, the space in here is used at the moment.”, Kalarin explained as he looked around at the near-vacant, yet, taken set-ups in the inn.
“Kalarin, place this on my tab, if you would. Farwanders, you are welcome to join us in our little area, just off to the left here.”
“Many thanks, ambassador.” Odenan bowed, “But for now, we will require some time and rest before we are ready to converse. We have losses on our hands that must be dealt with.”, he finished as he looked at Dagwa.
“Yes, yes. Of course, my apologies. We will await your tale whenever you wish to tell it. For now, take care.”, the ambassador finished as the Forsaken group turned and left for their set-up.
Seeing this as an opportunity, lieutenant Noraldrys walked from her area near a wall towards Ebo. The rest of the group headed out, following Dame Auriferous as she began a brief tour of Tranquillien.
“We must pay a visit to magistrix Aminel, regarding your mission here in our lands.” Dame Auriferous instructed, leading the way out of the inn and up the external ramp towards the second level.
“Ebow’ji? Regarding our conversation earlier about the commendation.”, the lieutenant requested, “How were you able to attain it?”
Y ou will be hav ing TWO conversations at the same time; The one you are currently having, and the one they are working you towards… “Through an act of great honour in service to the Horde.”, Ebo casually explained.
“I’m sure there is more to it than that? An act of great honour! Your Horde values that virtue in high regard, does it not? What would entail such an act!”, she inquired further with anticipation.
You are also required to sabotage any alliance attempts made by the Horde to the so called “Blood-Elves”. “Ruthlessly slaughtering your enemies to the point your blood-thirst out-slakes your real thirst… mercy towards the enemy has never earned a warrior a commendation as far as I am told…”, Ebo exaggerated to the lieutenant, “I killed many, crushing and cutting down a path to my victory until my enemies scattered…”, Ebo looked out towards the distant Dead Scar, “…and only death remained.”
“I… see…”, the visibly disappointed Lieutenant responded, lost in thought.
“I must be with my tribe-mates, lieutenant, and I am very tired. It was an honor speaking with you.”, Ebo finished, making his way out the inn. Odenan was leaned up against the side of the entrance, arms folded, giving a slight pause to Ebo.
“Hmmn!”, Odenan grunted, with a smile, as he left to catch up with the tour.
LINK TO CHAPTER 8 HERE!: Character Story (Fan Fiction): Deathlord Bloodrott : wow (reddit.com)
Chapter 9
Ebo tended to the incoming wounded Farstrider forces as they filtered through the Tranquillien shield-wall of Sin’dorei guardsmen on the sloping entrance into Tranquillien.
Given the tipsy feeling that lingered upon him, he found the cusp of imminent battle the quickest way to sobering up.
“Your healing is quite serviceable, and will indeed, be invaluable in the coming battle. I can see why you have earned that commendation, Ebow’ji of clan Farwander.”, Captain Valdross stated as he prepared various potions from his belt and satchels, imbibing them in preparation for the approaching Scourge forces, “…despite what my lieutenant tells me of Horde honor…”, he added, downing one last elixir. The thought of having the captain “choke” on his potion danced across his thoughts for a moment…
“Where IS lieutenant Amberquill?”, Ebow’ji inquired after the mention of the dutiful lieutenant.
“We were separated when we were beset upon by the scourge, scattered among the forest. She is no doubt still out there…somewhere. Odenan,”, the captain acknowledged the false Earthen Ring group leader, “…Perhaps today I get to witness this Horde honor myself…”.
“Hopefully the Dame has already informed magistrix Aminel to send for reinforcements. What horrors are we looking forward to, this day?”, Odenan inquired as he adjusted his gear and armaments.
“At least five hundred, mostly skeletons and ghouls from Deathholme. I spotted two of their accursed meat-wagons and stitched horrors known as “Abominations”… A colossal amalgamation of stitched flesh, muscle, bone, and rot. Of course no undead force is complete without a handful of those wretched necromancers and their vile crypt-fiend guard.”
“Good Captain, does the Scourge often assault this fair village?”, the stressed councillor Moore asked with a hint of concern.
“Not in such numbers as this. We were, in fact, ambushed and nearly surrounded, my forces scattered among the Eastern coast-lands. Unfortunately not all escaped death.”, he noted, studying the blood stains on his claw-torn armoured tunic.
[Thalassian] “THEY APPROACH TO THE SOUTH, AND ARE SPLITTING OFF TO THE NORTHERN ENTRANCE”, one of the town-guard archers shouted from a tree near the cliff-edge.
“Of course they are… Forsaken, you may want to take refuge.”
“Conrad is on it.”, Councillor Wight responded, gesturing to the flustered mage who was hastily laying down specialized stones in preparation for an emergency mass teleport. To where they would end up would remain a secret to only the Forsaken delegation.
The defenders made last moment adjustments to their positioning after hearing of the change in the enemies tactic. Half of the front-line and a ballistae (with crew) diverted immediately to the Northern side of Tranquillien, disappearing over the hill of the village entrance as they did so.
“Ebo, Kandra, Krag, you stay here and help the defense of the southern path. Misko, Toros and Dagwa, you are with me to the North.”, Odenan commanded, then moved in closer to the now huddled Grimtotems.
[Taurahe] “Do not forget our ultimate mission… should you all need to retreat, we will fall back up the mountain path.”
The tense group nodded as one and proceeded with their preparations.
[Taurahe] “Ish’ne alo porah”.
Odenan, Toros, and a drunken Misko marched up the path into their campsite, grabbing last minute gear and totems that would come into play in the approaching battle.
Ebo’s attention was stolen by the increasing tremors of the ground as the Scourge horde spilled forth from the forest into view among the trees below. The clamouring of worn down armor and shambling ghouls made haste towards the Blood Elven shield wall, funnelling up the sloped path in an unholy fervor. This enemy would not recoil when wounded, or tire of battle. Their many faces of rot and bone with beady black, dead eyes encasing an unholy glow came into clear view as they came charging up the ramped path.
Ebo could now hear their ragged, undead breathes as they approached the statuesque defenders clad in the regal red and gold heavy armor of the Sin’dorei. He heard Captain Valdross issue a command in Thalassian.
- THOOMM-
The massive bolt of the nearby elevated ballistae was loosed from it’s tension as it slammed straight into the fore of the charging undead assault force, tearing a ghoul in two, with the force of the impact spraying the bloody mess against the uncaring mindless attackers. Shards of bone, armor, and limbs came flying from within the undead mass in wake of the ballistae’s trajectory, yet still the wretches charged forth.
Ebo prepared himself, channelling staff at the ready, as the first of the Blood elven defender’s shield bashed and parried the encroaching invaders back, with his comrades following suit momentarily thereafter. The shield wall was forced back and tighter under shear weight of numbers of the advancing ghouls and skeletal warriors, their rasping cries of rage and hunger growing in intensity and loudness by the second, yet the defenders held their formation and contained the dead in a dense halt.
The loud ringing of deflected blows and armor being tested by the mace, blade, and claw lingered for a moment before the second row of defenders thrust forth one end of their deadly dual-bladed halberds in the skulls and faces of the contained ghouls and skeletal attackers. As one, the defending front-line pushed back the wave of freshly fallen corpses, slowing the frontal assault of the enemy as they fought to climb over their unholy brethren towards the slowly withdrawing shield-wall.
The archers at the cliff edge were too busy picking out targets over the edge on the ground below as countering arrows from their undead host whizzed past them, causing them to take cover for a moment, then answering with a nocked arrow that would loose towards the gathering enemy below.
Ebo witnessed Kandra up on higher ground shooting targeted ghouls in the mass of attackers at the front-line, while Krag would conjure a spike of rock and hurl it in to the growing enemy advancement, crunching the skulls and fracturing the bones of any in it’s path. He noticed one of the front-line defenders take a sword thrust to the leg. Upon the next push-back, her wound was instantly restored with a simple cast from Ebo, and she was ever-more stalwart as the next front-line mass of attackers were upon them.
Slowly, stride by stride, wave by wave, the Sin’dorei gave ground, foot by foot, as intended, as the Ballistae loosed another deadly payload, this time, further into the horde of undead.
Captain Valdross swiftly made his way to the edge of the cliff to take a quick peak at his undead host. As he did he ducked and shouted in Thalassian and took cover as a slaughtered, diseased mass of a corpse flew above, past a tree, with a cloud of green miasma following in it’s arc.
Ebo made sure to be clear of it’s impact, but the concerned attention of both the Forsaken councillors and Renard was on Conrad’s channelling teleportation spell in the camp before them. Before they both knew, the impact exploded the corpse as it released it’s toxic miasma around them, enveloping in them with a choking death as the slaughtered remainder of the corpse rolled forth with momentum, spewing the toxins and plague about in a bloody mess. The Councillors and Renard were on the ground in a moments notice, coughing and disintegrating at a rapid pace. The last thing Conrad seen before his teleportation spell had completed were the withered, corroded corpses of his Forsaken brethren. Some of the miasma made it to Conrad just as he teleported away, and Ebo could only guess at the status of the lone mage’s condition… wherever he would end up. Hopefully he didn’t make it …
Some archers at the cliff edge were unfortunate enough to catch the deadly projectiles of the enemy, with their lifeless corpses falling over the edge as the majority of necromantic bolts of energy and skeletal archer arrows flew upwards and harmlessly towards the sky, harmlessly whizzing by.
Ebo worked to save as many as he could, but he could not be everywhere at once.
The shield wall was holding as well as it could, but some casualties could not be avoided. Two or three unfortunate souls were swallowed up in the advancing ravaging horde, as those in behind them took their place with immediate discipline.
Kandra fell back steadily, loosing arrow after arrow while traversing the edge of the risen ground behind the Forsaken’s now vacant campsite where Ebo once climbed up towards just minutes prior.
Krag, focusing momentarily whilst using a lot of his mana force, conjured up an earthquake to rattle the ground in the undead horde mass to give a much needed break to the defending force. The resulting quake stumbled the Scourge front-line, with many of them falling over and in some cases, becoming ground up in their own armor as they were violently tossed and rumbled among each other.
Captain Valdross issued an order to the ballistae team as it fired one last shot and was re-oriented towards the path and pushed with utmost haste. Even Captain Valdross himself placed himself behind the war-machine and helped push it further into the temporary safety of the Village of Tranquillien.
Another diseased corpse flew over but this time with devastating effect; Those of the front-line who were furthest from the cliff edge took the impact of the corpse-like rotting payload. A majority of defenders were immediately stricken with the plague and debilitating miasma that followed. Of the seventeen that currently held fast, five died near immediately, their armor disintegrating on their dying forms. Ebo saved the other half of the infected and triaged as best he could. Krag new very few healing techniques but every little bit helped in the moments they had to recover, as the undead enemy quickly picked up where they left off, and began their shambling charge forward against the retreating Sin’dorei defenders.
Ebo fell back as well, now entering the Grimtotem’s camp-site as the defenders forced the undead horde into another choke point along the path leading from the Forsakens former camp. From where the battle started down the path, one of the aforementioned abominations came lumbering into view behind the sea of ghouls and skeletal warriors, with a host of necromancers and fiends at it’s side.
Another corpse came flying by, but this time landing harmlessly near the travelling-wagon of the Forsaken.
Kandra was up near the path leading into the mountain, taking a stealthy approach to gain an opportunity on a high value target, such as one of the Necromancers. She locked eyes with Ebo for a moment, as he nodded to her before she disappeared from sight.
Both front-lines clashed again with the same result, the defenders holding whilst the attackers steadily gaining ground. It seemed their numbers would not end as the path below was filled with undead, continuing down beyond the cliffs around the bend below.
Ebo awaited the next corpse volley from below, over the cliff, in tense anticipation, keeping his allies healed to take his mind off the impending unholy artillery.
The Necromancers came into play as Ebo witnessed them on the path below, warping the bodies of the recently slain into skeletal constructs. Damn them…
The three crypt-fiends were close enough to release forth their deadly scarab beetles, each skittering with rapid agility towards the defenders, enveloping a front-line blood elf each, tearing into their armor as best they could.
The necromancer’s bolts deflected off the shields, but some managed to slip past and hit their targets. Ebo could barely counter the necrotic effects that lingered on their targets as he slowly strode back at the same pace as the blood elf defenders.
Krag was running out of mana and decided to pace himself with the spell casting, pulling out his maul in preparation to physically defend himself just behind the front-line.
Ebo noticed one of the furthermost necromancers fall limp with an arrow protruding from his hooded head. It seemed Kandra found a good spot from afar, as the necromancer’s death went unnoticed among the battle for the time being. Just a few more shots like that, Kandra… Ebo thought.
The massive abomination picked up the pace, clearly excited for battle, knocking and crushing his smaller brethren aside just so it could join the fray. It began it’s assault by whipping forth a deadly massive steel hook on a chain, crashing onto the defenders and pulling one of them into the Scourge horde. It followed up with it’s massive cleaver in the grip of it’s swelled arm that was clearly the largest of the three it had it it’s disposal. The impact was dodged but the force knocked a temporary hole in the formation of the defenders.
More necromantic bolts of energy flew by, with some striking the defenders, as well as more scarab-like minions swarming about the front line, their crypt-fiend masters controlling them at a relatively safe distance.
Ebo witnessed another corpse fly in from beyond the cliff, but this time it landed in the undead mass. The friendly-fire was a welcome site but it seemed to make little difference, as if being absorbed into the undead ranks. Another necromancer silently fell in the distance as the ghouls, shamblers and skeletal forces rushed past their fallen caster with an unholy frenzy in their eyes.
The front-line was collapsing as the cliff edge was threatened to be flanked. The ballistae was in position deeper into Tranquillien, as it released its bolt into the abomination. The impact knocked the massive undead construct back, causing it to stumble a few meters. The large bolt was lodged in the protruding guts and innards of the abomination as it roared and charged forth yet again.
“You have got to be kidding me…”, Krag said in disbelief after witnessing the shot land it’s mark.
Captain Valdross shouted another command and the defenders became a lot more mobile. The archers at the cliff edge withdrew into the main portion of Tranquillen where Dame Auriferous appeared from.
[Thalassian] “I will assist this side now, for the Northern side is slowing their advance as much as they can with relative success.”, she stated as she moved toward the front, wand in hand. She loosed a salvo of fireballs that flew into the front-line of the enemy, creating an opportunity for three of the agile Sin’dorei guardsmen to assault the abomination directly, as it clumsily swung at them. Krag had joined in near the front, casting a debilitating earth shock at the distracted massive construct of dead flesh and bone.
Ebo was beset upon by a ghoul as it came running past a defender who was else-wise busy with multiple enemies. He had swung his staff and connected it with the legs of the ghoul, knocking it over. He then stomped down with all his might on it’s little skull, shattering it with a sickening splat.
The former front-line defenders were now dancing among growing hordes of dead as another ballistae bolt was this time aimed at a crypt-fiend. The majority of the unsuspecting former Nerubian was effectively turned inside-out on impact, releasing it’s death-cry in the process.
Another Necromancer fell by arrow, but was noticed by his remaining brethren. Catching on to the fact she was now noticed, Kandra came sprinting down the path that was beginning to swarm with skeletons. She ran along the slope of the mountain wall, shooting an arrow at the ghoul where she would land, and used it to slide forth to safety, rushing towards the town center to join the ranks of the remaining Blood-elf archers.
Ebo and Krag fell back as well, stationing themselves near the ballistae to defend it with Captain Valdross.
The remainder of the front-line defenders now moved toward the centre of the path, forcing the enemy to focus on them as they were swarmed.
Dame Auriferous had summoned a localized blizzard, as large shards of ice began to pelt the undead en mass.
The last Blood elf defender that was on the abomination had now fallen, but their damage dealt was considerable. The abomination had only one attacking limb as the rest were sliced off, and it’s eyes were stabbed out.
The swarms of dead came rushing forth once more, as the defenders did as much as they could to keep the enemy at bay. Ebo frantically healed the last remaining members of the shield-wall as they were clearly becoming overwhelmed, despite the archers and Dame Auriferous’ spells hammering the Scourge forces. The Abomination did not need eyes to know where it’s targets were and charged towards wherever the commotion was greatest.
Another corpse came flying toward the defenders from beyond the cliffs below, this time landing on the ballistae itself. The crew became engulfed in the miasma, and those close to it immediately scrambled to get clear. Although Captain Valdross was quick to move, he had breathed in a small portion of the plague cloud. Momentarily bringing him to his knees.
Ebo, recognizing an opportunity to cause further turmoil, pretended to ignore the plague stricken captain and focused his efforts on saving the crew instead. The last front-line defender was overwhelmed and there were no longer any allies in between him and the attackers for him to heal. The enemy came charging forth as the Dame, Ebo, Krag, Kandra and the remaining archers prepared retreat to the northern side.
Just then dozens of guardsman came rushing from the center of Tranquillien. He saw magistrix Aminel on the second tier of the main building, accompanied with another blood elf that clearly looked like a mage.
Captain Valdross managed to look above and recognized the individual.
[Thalassian] “Cough Varanis -**Cough cough ******-… bring the sun down upon them!”, he mustered all his strength to call out to the mysterious mage.
Ebo witnessed the Blood-mage’s skorne filled face begin to focus as he let loose one of the verdant spheres that orbited about him with the mere extention of his arm. The green fire-engulfed emerald sphere danced rapidly through the air, landing just before the reinforced front line in the centre mass of the swarming undead. After a brief build-up of dark energy, the undead forces, along with the blind swinging abomination, were violently engulfed in flame, many becoming instantly vaporized in the center of the large blast of screaming, roaring fire.
Varanis Bitterstar would immediately do the same to the other front, casting another verdant sphere that disappeared towards the defenders of the north, where Ebo couldn’t see beyond the hill-like centre of Tranquillien, past the statue with the dancing maidens. Although, the resulting erupting explosion of fire could definitely be seen from his point of view.
The mage then focused intensely, hunching over in concentration and effort as what looked like a large orange-glowing egg formed before his hands which hovered around it, growing larger with each moment. His face began to snarl with the same hatred he exhibited moments before.
[Thalassian] “BURN, YOU WRETCHES!”, His furious, hate-filled voice roared from the balcony of the second level as the bright orange burning egg was cast beyond the cliff, and into the grounds below.
The archers re-established their positions to the cliff-edge with Kandra and Krag joining among them. Ebo followed suit after restoring captain Valdross in lieu of the reinforcements that came. It seemed his opportunity would have to come at a later time…
Ebo approached the Cliff edge and looked down. The ground below was swarming with undead forces, and the two meat-wagons captain Valdross mentioned before were among them, preparing another wretched volley. Ebo could clearly tell the captain had originally misread the enemy force, as there were at least five hundred more Scourge enemies below.
The burning, golden egg erupted at it’s landing zone, releasing an intense gout of flame that instantaneously vaporized the nearby ghouls as a great phoenix spawned forth, screeching as it took low-flight, whipping magical plasma everywhere, and igniting anything that was within it’s proximity.
It flew close to the ground, spewing molten plasma in jet like streams from its beak and every flap of it’s wings, destroying the war machines of the Scourge, reducing them to burning piles of melted steel and ash. It worked it’s way south near the cliff edge, it’s intense heat so unbearable, all those near the edge broke visibility from the low-soaring Phoenix. It then circled around back north, igniting everything it could and consuming it in arcane fire. It was most certainly a spectacle to behold such terrible and raw magic being unleashed upon a foe, as Ebo sighed in relief, witnessing the majority of the Scourge army becoming systematically vaporized to zero threat.
The phoenix was however short-lived, as it collapsed into it’s egg form.
The Blood mage rescinded his magical familiar, as the egg levitated and floated back to it’s master on the balcony.
The reinforcements went to work, clearing out the remaining Scourge that lingered about. Ebo witnessed Toros in the distance to the north, chasing down a crypt-fiend, catching it, and promptly stomping it into the ground like the spider it was. He watched as the remainder of the northern guard cheered and returned towards the safety of Tranquillien, with Odenan, Dagwa, and Toros.
Ebo noticed the flames engulfing the trees from the fiery spells cast by Varanis Bitterstar. One of the Blood Elf archers at the cliff voiced their concern at the matter.
[Thalassian] “Victory at such a cost…”.
Ebo did not need to understand Thalassian to know what they said. In merely studying the bitter-sweet expression on their face a-lit with the orange glow of their enkindling forest, with their tense body language that knew not what to do in this moment, he knew what was required of him at this time… if only to secure his tribe-mate’s facades as Earthen-Ring shamans…
“Dame Auriferous! Where is the nearest river?”, questioned Ebo among the increasingly smoky atmosphere of Tranquillien.
“Part of the Elrendar river cuts through the scar, hidden just beyond our now blazing forest.”, she stated as she shot a stern look upward towards the blood mage. Varanis met her stare with uncaring eyes for a moment, as he turned back towards Magistrix Aminel with a “hmmph.”, and went on to discuss more “higher-matters”.
“Why? Do you have a plan, Ebow’ji of the Earthen-Ring?”
“As a shaman versed in the ways of water, I believe I do…”, Ebo proudly stated as he made his way towards the northern path. He met his Grimtotem brethren along the way with the Dame leading, healing up the many wounds on Odenan, Dagwa, and Toros. Misko remained silent and still somewhat inebriated after the battle. Ebo remained impartial to the fire shaman, as he still felt lingering resentment towards what was stated earlier.
“Now that the fighting is done, seems your work begins, water shaman.”, Odenan stated as Ebo and the Dame continued down the path, “Show them what the Earthen-Ring are capable of.”, he finished with a wink.
The path led downward to the north and hugged the edge of the burning forest, and led immediately to a branch of the Elrendar river, which intersected the Dead Scar before them.
“This river was caused by the initial invasion of the Lich King Arthas. His wanton destruction caused the Elrendar to bleed down into the scar, forming this diversion you see before us now.”, Dame Auriferous explained as they came to the intended destination.
“I am sorry such a blemish plagues the land still, Dame…”, Ebo responded, taking stance in preparation of the spell about to be cast, “…but it seems the consequence of their misdeeds will help us this day.”
Ebo brought the flowing river to a slowing halt as the water collected before them. The river ceased to flow downward for the time being as it’s promised water was robbed of it’s natural destination, pooling into a rising mass that looked like a tidal wave travelling among the ocean, yet, frozen in place.
“Water shaman, are you sure you can manage this…”, Dame Auriferous carefully asked a heavily strained Ebo. He had never taken this much mass of water under his influence before, but with the prospect of the security of their identities as Earthen-Ring shamans on the line, Ebo dug deep and gave all he could to ensure the task would come to fruition.
His hooves rooted to the ground, he became a conduit of the forces of nature. Although the spirits of the land were scarce in this Elven kingdom, they only needed to be coaxed by a shaman to enable their propagation into the living world. The water was now towering over the canopy of the nearby trees, slowly gaining in mass from the Elrendar’s bleeding source.
It felt as if the weight of all that water was being pushed onto Ebo, spilling forth onto the blaze just to the south of them. He grunted as the strain on his being was becoming unbearable, rattling his soul within his body as the huge mass of water surged forward past the duo, engulfing the once burning forest in the soothing tides.
Large bouts of hissing steam and black smoke filled the sky as the trees were subsequently saved from a blazing death. Although some damage was clear and present, the threat of a raging forest fire had passed, and the land around was now well hydrated and primed for rebirth.
“Well done! Water Shaman indeed!”, exclaimed Dame Auriferous, as she stood in awe of the accomplishment. The appraisal was short lived, for she remembered the empty wine bottle at her hip.
“Let us return to Tranquillien before more Scourge show up. They always do…”, she immediately turned back upon the path with a hand over the bottle. Ebo noticed the former ambassador’s wine bottle under the hold of Dame Auriferous’ hand and began to dissuade the contemplating Blood-elf from her suspicions as they marched up the path.
“I wish our Forsaken allies could witness this victory…”, Ebo began softly.
“Yes on the matter…”, the Dame began, almost lost in thought.
“Good Dame, forgive me for what I am suggesting, but I find it suspicious that the mage Conrad Brightstar teleported away in the midst of battle… immediately after the unfortunate casualties of his brethren.”, Ebo interjected, “… is it… perhaps entirely possible… that he could have been an agent for the Scourge?”.
The Dame paused on the path, clutching the wine bottle in her hand.
“Yes, Ebow’ji. It entirely IS possible, now that I think of it.”, she stated staring into the ground.
“Just think more of it… He makes his move in the presence of new company, in the form of us Grimtotems, so he could shift the possibility of blame onto us? It is far too convenient for this to happen upon our unfortunate arrival. You seen what we can do-what I can do. We came here to help the land and her fair people! It is the only possible explanation, given all that has happened.”
“Yes… yes perhaps you are correct.”, she concluded as she continued forward, her mind still in heavy consideration. “I really must analyze this bottle to conclude anything of the sort. But please, Ebow’ji, enjoy the victory here today, and the fruits of your efforts. I’m sure there is a feast to be had and some celebrations to take place upon our return, just around this bend!”.
The pair were greeted by cheers from the ecstatic defenders and Earthen-Ring imposters at the northern edge of Tranquillien.
“Oh, Ebow’ji?..”, The Dame asked suddenly as they neared the crowd.
“… What is a Grimtotem?”.
Chapter 10
The Dame and the water shaman made their way up the path towards Tranquillien, the crowd of cheering defenders at their fore.
“Ah, yes…”, Ebo’s words stumbled out before he could think. The Dame’s inquiry at the mention of his true tribe’s identity caught him off guard. With his mind set in competition with his rapidly beating heart, he had little time to improvise. Odenan’s eyes widened after realizing the situation at hand.
You stupid… STUPID fool…
“… Well… it is what we call… our battle-made allies!”, he began, shooting looks towards his Grimtotem brethren as he paced closer towards them.
“… Yes! Indeed!”, Odenan picked up the conversation abruptly, “… You are truly honored to be deemed a Grimtotem by a Tauren!”, he concluded, darting looks at Dagwa, Toros and the others, nodding profusely as he did so. The remaining Grimtotems returned nods all together, if only to save…”face”.
“Cough Well, Clan Farwander…”, Captain Valdross addressed the Taurens on approach, “You are indeed Grimtotems in my eyes this day. I am honored to be registered as such.”, he finished with a slight bow.
After clearing his throat, he began again, “It seems Lieutenant Amberquill will have to change her view of Horde honor upon her return, of course, under drink and feast.”, he gestured back toward Tranquillien square, as the stabilized portal Magistrix Aminel channelled during the battle brought in a contingent of Sin’dorei reinforcements and celebratory confectionery and apparati, along with a multitude of supplies a village on the fringe of enemy territory would essentially require.
Ebo breathed a quiet, personal sigh of relief as the gathering of Grimtotems and Blood Elven defenders started motioning back toward the village, abuzz in conversations and appraisal. The surrounding foliage and fauna of Tranquillien was laden with char and ash- lined corpses of the former undead, but the village square and buildings seemed relatively intact and presentable, given the heavy Scourge assault it just endured.
Ebo lay witness to the arcane wonder of Sin’dorei magical ingenuity. Many brooms and rakes swept steadily about, on the path, on the stone arbor, the buildings, and even the statue of the dancing maidens, with no operator among them. The many water elementals summoned by support mages cleaned the area, spraying about pressurized water as they removed the filth of Scourge battle remnants to a confined means.
Making their way towards applauding cheers and appraisals among the preparation of the festivities, Dame Auriferous broke away toward the ramp-way that led up to the second storey of the Inn where Magistrix Aminel and blood-mage Varanis’ meeting had begun, the ambassador’s wine bottle in hand.
Odenan addressed the present crowd as the Dame disappeared towards the second storey.
[Thalassian] “Defenders, and good people of Tranquillien, we have endured a victory with you as we work towards bringing renewal and restoration to your homeland. I have heard stories from where I hail, of the ravenous and wretched Scourge that plague these lands. It is what bravery and stalwart will of being that I have seen today, of the legendary Blood Elven people, that spurred me and my tribe of clan Farwander of the Earthen Ring to journey here and lend our much needed aid!”, he stated with a raised fist. A crisp cheer followed for a moment, as he continued, [Thalassian] “But alas… with every battle… lay the fallen. The Twenty-five defenders of Tranquillien, along with the unfortunate Forsaken delegation, will forever give reminder to the testament of the resilience the Sin’dorei are known for as the future approaches here-forever-more!”
The speech was met with great applause and cheering. Ebo and the other Grimtotems did not understand a word of it, but nodded and clapped appropriately, looking at one another while the cheering lingered.
Odenan found himself serving as Ebo’s interpreter, as many adoring and thankful guards-men and women of Tranquillien came to praise his actions and give their condolences to his fallen tribemates. The forest was singed, but not beyond recovery, thanks to the water shaman’s efforts. He thought upon the fact that Melana had been spying on him, and their now compromised status.
Does he need to know now?, Ebo contemplated as his mind was now on Melana, who would be well away from the battle by now, and on her way to the nearest ship or zeppelin…
[Taurahe] “I have been thinking, water-boy…”, Odenan began as the final Blood-elf gave praise to Ebo, leaving them a small bout of privacy.
[Taurahe] “Your efforts thus far have kept us on the path as seemingly everything wanted to deny us thus far. Taking out the ambassador…”, Ebo’s eyes immediately darted to Odenan’s, [Taurahe] “…Toros told me, and I half-suspected the Forsaken would not have drowned in his drink… voluntarily. Good thinking. High chief Magatha would most definitely approve.”
Ebo was elated at his commander’s approval. For the first time in a very, very long time, coupled with the praise coming from his tribe, he was sublimely content.
[Taurahe] “Resume this effort, and Magatha’s plans will come to fruition.”, He concluded, his slight grin died upon eyeing Misko’s approach, [Taurahe] “…And those who have fallen will not have been in vain.”
Odenan left the pair of shamans and made his way towards the preparations of the festivities. Misko Slaghoof, now somewhat more sober than before, began his apology as he sheepishly waded his way towards Ebo, who glanced his way, then averted his gaze elsewhere.
[Taurahe] “Quite the battle, Ebow’ji, and quite the display of water mastery…”, he began, “I was worried for your front of the battle, since the Dame left us after giving word that your side was breaching-”.
Ebo interrupted, [Taurahe] “OH! Worried about me were you? That I wouldn’t be able to, “SAVE”, myself?!”, Ebo’s eyes sternly met Misko’s. It was the first time Misko had looked at him that way, as if fearful and too timid to continue.
After an awkward while, Misko continued his apology, [Taurahe] “Look, I… Perhaps I should not have despaired your efforts. The loss of one beloved to you can do things to your… mind. I wasn’t myself, and I see that now.”.
The shamans shared yet another awkward silence as Ebo remained calmly on edge.
[Taurahe] “Ebo, I will tell you this because… I do not know what the others would think…”, he started as he moved closer to Ebo, his breath still lingering with a slight tinge of Elven wine, [Taurahe] “I am dead serious about joining the horde. Losing the breath of air to my fire was not expected as one of the outcomes of this… “adventure” of ours, but Noodin and I promised each other to move on and do whatever would make us happy should one of us not make it.”, He paused, sighing heavily, [Taurahe] “… And now I am afraid of what Odenan would do if he actually knew where my allegiances now lay, out here, far from home…”, he trailed off in thought, kneeling down towards the small camp-fire before them, making the flames dance and form a variety of shapes at will.
Ebo recalled from years prior of the shaman duo that seemed inseparable in his Stonetalon Village of his youth. As young Tauren teens, with Odenan being slightly older, they would play with others among the cliffs and outskirts of the village. When playing hide and seek, Misko and Noodin would always be found hiding in the same spot. When teasing wild Kodos for fun they would always pair up and wreak havoc on the poor creatures which chased each Tauren from one end of the cliffs to the other, often faster than the rest of the other “participants” could. When learning alchemy, Misko always found the herbs and Noodin always prepared the batches.
When Ebo left for the shaman training academy in Bloodhoof village those years ago, they had already begun training within the tribe, as other elders versed in the ways of fire and air were plentiful and willing to teach. He had briefly seen their progress budding towards fruition before he left, with Noodin cycling air into Misko’s growing pillars of fire, creating a spectacle of raging, yet, controlled flame as he headed down the path into the barrens down towards Mulgore. When Ebo had returned, he had learned that Noodin was two-spirited and that Misko was his accepting partner. He envied them, since Ebo was a step away from being an out-cast just by upholding the role of a water shaman in a Grimtotem village, and Melana Tallgrass was so far, far away in Feralas…
[Taurahe] “That Phoenix was something else…”, Misko stated, forming a small version of the magnificent creature from the flames of the camp-fire.
[Taurahe] “…I will be like that Phoenix for you, Noodin.”, he quietly promised, [Taurahe] “… And all these Scourge wretches will burn… when I join the Horde.”, he finished as he rose up and took a deep breathe through his nose.
[Taurahe] “Can I trust you with this choice, water-boy?”
Ebo contemplated the situation for a moment. He couldn’t blame Misko for the choice that would surely condemn him should Odenan find out. To see the fiery Misko humbled so after so many years of teasing and borderline bullying, Ebo found it reluctant to give Misko this reprieve.
[Taurahe] “You can DEFECT safely when this is all over… however… be careful not to choke on your drink tonight…”, Ebo responded with a sarcastic wink, taking a swig from his water-skin.
Misko forced a half-smile and nodded as he left towards the busy village center. Ebo put the fire out with but a handful of water from his channelling staff, creating a thin-spread blanket of water that descended slowly, smothering the fire as it steamed and hissed softly, dying out to an inert mass of steaming charcoal. He was left to his devices for the time being.
Walking over to the former camp of the Forsaken that was almost cleansed of char and corpses save for a blackened patch of ground here and there, he looked toward the bush to where he discarded the totem used in the assassination of Feodore Bonwick. Although the large bushel miraculously held the majority of its leaves despite the battle, the totem could not be found…
[Taurahe] “These elves use magic for damned near everything, don’t they?”, Dagwa stated as she approached Ebo’s flank.
[Taurahe] “Dagwa… how are you doing since…”.
[Taurahe] “We are shaman, Ebow’ji…”, she interjected, explaining herself as she approached, [Taurahe] “I have been attempting to contact the spirit of Talon since he fell upon the seas. I have been guiding him to our ancestors. I… am better now.”, she finished with a nod, crossing her arms and looking over to the ramping path leading into Tranquillien that was cleansed of the destroyed Scourge corpses by the water elementals of the initiate mages of the Sin’dorei. Their pressurized water sprayed the filth down and away from the path, leaving a wetted version of the way Ebo remembered it looked from when he had first arrived.
[Taurahe] “…But I knew of the danger of this mission when we were entrusted with it. Talon knew as well, but I am at peace with it. I will miss him, but I must move on.”, She sternly explained, [Taurahe] “I know you tried to save him, and I thank you, Ebo. I will meet him in the afterlife, but for now, the mission stands. Thunder found death the way any honorable Grimtotem should and is survived by his family back in Stonetalon. Noodin finds his way to our ancestors as well and thanks us for freeing him, and do not worry about his essence becoming tainted by the Scourge… Their pathetic death-magic will not work on his vessel.”.
Ebo nodded, recalling the cast of Purge he and Dagwa performed on Noodin’s corpse.
[Taurahe] “I see you are becoming more powerful each time the sun rises and sets. Impressive work with the water spirits… I would never have guessed the utility of water could be so versatile in any situation beyond restoration… though your martial prowess needs work. A LOT of work.”, she surmised with a chuckle, [Taurahe] “…And Kandra just told me you are quite the kisser… as we watched you perform on the forest below…”.
Ebo’s eyes widened slightly as he stared at the amused and grinning enhancement shaman. Great, what else did she say…
[Taurahe] “I was wondering where you two went back there… It’s about time that shy thing took a mate already… But you may have competition. I recall Bramblesmash eyeing her up lately over the years, that big buffoon.”
Ebo’s jealousy sparked an intense heat forming at his ears and face at the mention of Toros’ interest in Kandra. He better not…
[Taurahe] “Better square up, water-boy”, She finished with a chuckle, [Taurahe] “I’m off to grab some refreshments. Let’s see if any of this Blood elven food tastes better than a heaping pile of Kodo $h!t. At least their drinks are somewhat tolerable…”, she noted as she headed back toward town. She quickly shot back over her shoulder; [Taurahe] “Good talk.”
Good talk…, Ebo thought as his mind raced back at what could have become of the discarded totem. Must have been washed away with the corpses…
Ebo continued wandering around town, acknowledging a nod of approval here and there by the local populace and guards. His mind was still on about Toros’ interest in Kandra.
He found himself mentally pitted against the large Grimtotem protection warrior. Ebo was no small Tauren either. Working with Kodo and water carrying gave him a warrior’s physique, and, as he was not quite his father’s son, he could be considered “close enough”, with a large broad torso and a well muscled core, and arms supported by a thick neck, all granted decent locomotion begotten by his powerful legs. However Toros was considerably larger. The massive abomination in the battle prior reminded Ebo of Toros in full plated gear with shield in tow. I would have liked to see him face one of those… He finished his thoughts as he approached Krag on the northern side of Tranquillien.
The earth shaman was in the middle of reforming and renewing the scorched and battle-worn earth, rumbling areas that looked damaged by battle into a smooth descent along the cobble-stone path ahead.
[Taurahe] “Ah, my champion returns!”, Krag began with a smile, straining slightly to control the earth.
[Taurahe] “The spirits do not want to be disturbed here… like they are barely here at all…”, he stated to Ebo, as he finished patching up the immediate area just along Tranquillien’s outskirts.
Ebo looked upon who he considered his only friend, [Taurahe] “I’ll be honest Krag, we were nearly swarmed back there.”
[Taurahe] “Yeah… I do not know if I had the mana to raise an earth wall before us, but…”, the earth shaman lowered his voice, “…You DO recall Odenan’s orders…”.
Ebo nodded, and realized the falsity of his recent appraisals. His “heroic” actions ultimately worked against him in the long run of the mission, and once again, brought his feelings into question, as he recalled what Misko revealed to him just prior.
No. He stopped this confusion suddenly.
I am a Grimtotem. From here on out… He mentally established upon himself after realizing the events up to this point.
[Taurahe] “I do, old friend, I do.”, Ebo recalled Odenan’s orders.
[Taurahe] “And about what Odenan told us just a few moments ago…”, Krag then whistled, sarcastically impressed, [Taurahe] “How very UNLIKE our restoration shaman we have come to know and love… Are you alright these days? I know things haven’t been going our way lately, but you just…”, Krag darted a few looks around before lowering his voice to barely a whisper, [Taurahe] “Straight-up murdered an ambassador…”.
Ebo stood tall and looked upon his friend.
[Taurahe] “I know. And I will do it again, if I must, to ensure the mission succeeds.”
He was done, always ethically questioning his own actions.
He was done, feeling bad for the fate of others he could not save.
He was done, always being treated as tertiary.
He was done, being a “weak” Grimtotem.
Krag cocked his head slightly with a grin, turning towards his work.
[Taurahe] “You’ve changed, water-boy… You’ve changed…”.
“Hmmn.”, Ebo agreed, turned away and continued his wandering tour, witnessing the set-up nearing it’s completion.
The day progressed as the festivities commenced in the village of Tranquillien. The honored “Earthen Ring” guests feasted on foods never seen by Tauren eyes before, and of some variations of dishes they may once have attempted.
Ebo never knew spider-meat could be seasoned to such a delicious degree. He even spotted mana strudels among the delicacies presented, which left a bad taste in his mouth after discovering their presence among the many floating serving tables among Tranquillien’s newly-cleaned grounds.
He had visitors sit with him and his tribe-mates, including captain Valdross who regaled them of stories of past battles on Tranquillien’s soil. The assault they repelled wasn’t even the worst one they had, but it was apparently “up there”. Of course, many who visited could not speak Orcish, let alone Taurahe, leaving Odenan as the designated interpreter. Captain Valdross explained that there would be a lull in attacks after such a large Scourge assault, and that the roads would be relatively safe for a time thereafter.
Ebo spotted the Dame and the Magistrix on the balcony above the inn, sipping wine with the blood-mage Varanis with other various high ranking officials from Silvermoon.
Must be important, could be about us… He surmised, focusing attention back to the celebrations.
A commotion took place near the southern entrance as slight cheers were heard. A caravan of Silver Hand Paladins had arrived to the party, unannounced.
Ebo had never seen a Paladin before. The armor they wore was of impressive design, boasting a formidable look whilst nearly glowing with an impressive silver shine. The plates were rimmed with gold, and pure white cloaks and garments flowed off of them like misty clouds upon a mountain. Chained among their plated torsos were tomes of holy scripture. They carried a variety of weapons adhering to their apparent specialization, some with heavy, massive hammer-like maces, and some with shields and swords that seemed to glow slightly with a golden light.
“Ah! Silver Hand Paladins heading to Silvermoon from Light’s Hope chapel, I take it.”, Captain Valdross guessed as some of the party attendees flocked toward their glowing aura.
“Some of them have families in Silvermoon and the surrounding areas. They come and go along the path from here to Silvermoon, or to Light’s Hope, whichever way they are destined for.”, he explained for his false Earthen Ring guests.
“I shall take my leave, for I must meet with the leader of their caravan. There may be intel we need from them of the surrounding areas they travelled from. Farstriders.”, He dismissed, rising with a following bow and nod.
Odenan spoke up, intrigued at the new guests. Whatever intel the captain would learn, he would no doubt benefit from learning as well.
“Captain Valdross, may I join you?”, Odenan requested, “It would be a grand honor to actually meet a Paladin, as I have never met one prior to today!”.
The captain paused for a statuesque moment, then agreed, “You may. I’m sure the Paladins have also never met the Earthen Ring until now. Come then.”, he motioned.
Odenan nodded to his troupe and left the table in somewhat of a brisk manner, eager to be “in-the-know”.
[Taurahe] “Not a fan of the armor.”, Toros spoke up after a sip from the goblet of Elven spirits he cradled in his hand, “Too shiny, like a fire on a hill in the middle of a dark night. The enemy need only follow that shine and detect you.”, finishing with another sip.
[Taurahe] “At least Matte the armor so it doesn’t shine.”, he continued with his expertise, [Taurahe] “And the weapons… A little large considering their stature. Someone like Thunder could easily swing one of those small “mallets” they wield…”, he finished as he lost his train of thought at the memory of his fallen friend.
The Grimtotem protection warrior immediately poured more of the Elven spirits into each of his fellow tribe-mate’s cups, raising his above the table.
[Taurahe] “To possibly one of the greatest, most fearsome warriors who ever lived, Thunder Centaurbane.”, he announced as the rest of the table rose their glasses to meet his.
[Taurahe] “Don’t choke on your drinks now…”, Dagwa stated with slight raising of her eyebrows just before they were about to down their drinks in unison. Kandra muffled a giggle as she was about to raise her glass.
Ebo grinned at the comment. [Taurahe] “To Noodin, and Talon as well.”, he added as their cups bottomed up for a brief moment, then slammed down on the table afloat, making it dip for a slight moment before returning to it’s hovering serving height.
[Taurahe] “It may be Elven, but it’s decent stuff.”, Toros gave his verdict after the toast. Ebo noticed him glance over to an oblivious Kandra for a brief moment as he smiled lightly, proceeding to pour more of the Elven drink into the elegant Elven glass. He felt a surge of anxiety and heat bloom out of nowhere from within.
Don’t you dare look at her…
It seemed Odenan made an impression on two of the Paladins, as he and the pair of Elven Silver Hand compatriots and the captain approached their way back to the table.
“Greetings, honored members of Earthen Ring. Seems we missed out on quite the battle this morning!”, one of the paladins began in Orcish.
“I am Sargent Zelan Brightblade of the Silver Hand. This here…”, he motioned a hand towards the other paladin, “…Is initiate Beryl Theron.”
The initiate noted the queue from her superior and bowed slightly, her gold locks flowing foward off her shining armor as she did so.
“Sargent Zelan knows the Orcish common tongue. A souvenir of the second war, when the Old Horde was routed from the Northern Kingdoms.”, Odenan explained.
“Forgive my initiate, for she does not understand the Orcish common language… though, I suspect, in time, we may all need too…”, Zelan apologized, followed by a slight wave from Beryl.
The introductions began as the celebrations were underway. It was learned that Beryl was actually a distant relative of the regent lord Lor’themar Theron. Odenan found himself her interpreter for the time being as the pair of paladins regaled the false Earthen Ring guests of tales of their journeys in the Eastern Plaguelands and beyond. It would be one minor tale that would set the Grimtotems on the path towards their true mission…
“You know, prior to arriving to Tranquillien, we had just come from Light’s Hope chapel. We were blessed to bear witness of the powerful blade, named Ashbringer, wielded by the Highlord Alexandros Mograine…”
Odenan’s face now remained stern, his gaze fixated towards the Sargent as if nothing else existed around them both.
“Currently, Highlord Mograine had just returned from the southern kingdoms with the blade in tow, and has put it to work, cutting down the Scourge and obliterating them to nothing but piles of ash. The blade was said to have been forged from the cleansing of a dark artifact recovered from the Orcs of the Burning Steppes. King Magni Bronzebeard of Ironforge forged it himself, bestowing the light in tandem with Dwarven crafting methods to produce that magnificent weapon of untold power…”, the Sargent’s gaze seemed to fixed a kilometer away as he seemed to be lost in thought for a moment.
“…Such power and magnificence… Had I a blade like that, I would march to Deathholme right now and cleanse it of the vile filth that reside there… But alas! I do not. It is being put to use by the Highlord in the Eastern Plaguelands as we speak.”
Odenan’s eyes shot around the table to his Grimtotem tribe-mates in an excited manner. The others followed suit.
There it was. The reason they came to this far away land.
Finally… All misfortunes had now been justified. They only needed to enact a plan…
Odenan nodded and began.
[Thalassian] “Sargent Zelan, we of the Earthen Ring have come to cleanse this land of the vile Scourge as you know. I feel we can do this more effectively at Light’s Hope. Better to treat the wound at the source, where we would be most effective…”
The Sargent nodded in agreement along with his initiate.
[Thalassian] “Please, Sargent, if you would-”, Odenan beckoned the paladins as he rose from the seat, [Thalassian] “I would like you to accompany me in asking Dame Auriferous to leave for Lights Hope on the morrow.”
Captain Valdross, who remained silent in drink up until now offered his assistance.
[Thalassian] “An escort would be officially required for travel in our lands, and I am most certain you would need a guide. I offer my hand in this regard. The paths are usually quite free of Scourge after such an attack like the one this morning, but this would not be the case for long… so as far as numbers are concerned, I would only need one other.”, he explained, as he rose from his cushioned seat. He addressed the Grimtotems in Orcish.
“Seems the Earthen Ring has found their purpose in the Eastern Kingdoms… Clan Farwander, sometime on the morrow, it seems I will be your guide as you make your way to the Eastern Plaguelands, and on to Lights Hope chapel.”, he finished with a bow, “Odenan and I, along with our honored Silver Hands will set up arrangements with the Dame and those present up there.”, he said, gesturing to the second storey of the inn.
Sargent Zelan quipped jestingly; [Thalassian] “No doubt there should be no problem in asking permission when a relative of the lord regent is present…”
[Thalassian] “Distant relative…”, Beryl corrected with a skyward point of her finger.
As Odenan led the way with an extra spring in his hoof, the rest of the Grimtotems were left to “party on”. Eventually, they would peruse about the grounds, visiting tables and excited crowds (conversing with the limited few who spoke Orcish common), and lay witness to magical decor and parlor tricks of the many initiate mages in attendance. Ebo had visited a notice board near the stone arbor out of curiosity, and seen the sketch of a Gnoll fugitive of what had to have been a wanted poster, sitting most prevalent among posts of Amani Troll bounties and sightings of Night Elves abound.
The Kel’dorei? Here?!
The bounty was in the quill of the Blood Elves, but he could deduce the numbers of the reward for the Gnoll’s ugly head.
FIVE HUNDRED GOLD?!, Ebo exclaimed in his mind. He took a copy of the pinned stack on the board and folded it neatly, placing it in his pocket.
Odenan may want this…
The drinks were flowing in great quantities among the festivities, as were the Grimtotems guests.
Ebo grew curious at the thought of Kandra and began seeking the Grimtotem huntress out.
He approached the inn and heard her soft giggling from around the side of the building. Upon turning the corner, he seen Toros in close proximity of her, leaning on the building’s side, caressing the hair from her eyes under her hood.
Ebo stood in silent rage for a moment, taking in the scene at hand. He began a swift march to the engaging pair, feeling his face getting hotter and hotter as he promptly stopped before them, garnering their attention.
[Taurahe] “So you chose, have you?”, Ebo sternly inquired of Kandra, as she looked upon him with a slight surprise.
[Taurahe] “Mmmmn… not yet.”, she explained, looking up at Toros, then back at Ebo before casually getting out of the way between the two Tauren bulls.
Toros caught on to the situation as an amused smirk danced across his face.
[Taurahe] “… There is not even a choice here, Kandra…”, he stated as he pushed himself off the wall and began walking towards the shy hunter.
Ebo slowly but sternly got in his way and lightly pressed a hand on Toros’ chest-chain under-armor, stopping him slightly. A raise of an eyebrow appeared on Toros face, exhibiting a look that was both annoyed and curious.
Ebo gave a slight shove which tilted the protection warrior slighty away from his set out prize.
[Taurahe] “Yeah?”, inquired the amused Toros Bramblesmash, raising his eyebrow even further with a slight grin, [Taurahe] “We doing this right now, water-boy?”.
Ebo found his channelling staff in his hand without realizing it.
Krag appeared from the festivities, witnessing the situation from afar, along with Dagwa.
[Taurahe] “Hey-hey-hey, woah… WOAH.”, he hastened his approach to get in between the two Grimtotem bulls, placing a hand betwixt each one. Dagwa began to chuckle as she casually followed in Krags wake.
[Taurahe] “Girl, you sure know how to choose ‘em…”, she addressed Kandra who stood like a prized statue, her face exhibiting a slight grin.
Ebo never liked Toros. Seen as an outsider the day he and Grundig arrived in the Stonetalon Grimtotem Village from Darkcloud Pinnacle, Toros held resentment toward the Darkclouds from day one. Years ago, as children, Toros would casually pick on Ebo, going out of his way by casting him from participation in communal events such as field-ball (Lacrosse), or at the very least keeping him off the same team as himself and the others (like as Odenan, at the time). There were times when Ebo would be picked on by other Tauren, and Toros would be right there along with it. Kicking over his water containers with Misko and telling him not to worry about it… to just “use your water skills, water-boy”… Placing his old channelling staffs in piles of Kodo dung… Pouring water in Ebo’s bed-skins before sleep… The harassment was plentiful for the water shaman-in-training those years prior. Until Ebo proved himself of some use in battle did Toros finally deem him worthy of being “tolerable”. There was a short while months prior to the mission where Ebo had to heal Toros on a daily basis, especially when fighting skirmishes with Night-elf forces. There were a number of times Toros suffered grievous wounds and would no doubt have bled out were Ebo not there to tend to him. Among all those in Magatha’s task force, Toros was the only one Ebo truly disliked. Thunder was older than them by some years, but even back then he told Toros to “knock it off” a number of times when the bullying got out of hand…
No more. And ESPECIALLY n ot this day…
[Taurahe] “Tell you what water-boy”, Toros began with a chuckle, finding this more amusing than it was a concern to him, [Taurahe] “After the mission, we will have a little… “talk”… about all of this…”, he shot a glance over at Kandra, [Taurahe] “… should she even choose you…”, he finished as he walked away with a grunt, shaking his head and rolling his eyes.
[Taurahe] “He finally does ONE thing worthy of being a Grimtotem and he thinks himself my F#&^!$G equal.”, he shot back as he stomped away back onto the party grounds of Tranquillien.
[Taurahe] “TOROS.”, Dagwa scolded the protection warrior with a side glance.
With a pfff, and a shake of his head he sought out the nearest bottle of Elven spirits and lost himself into the festivities.
With his rival gone, Ebo shot a stern look at Kandra, who stood arms crossed with her one visible eye staring at the ground before them.
[Taurahe] “So?”, Ebo demanded an answer from the hunter.
[Taurahe] “Like I said. After the mission.”, she explained, her eye still fixed on the ground.
[Taurahe] “Yeah? Seemed like the mission was over back there with Toros.”, Ebo retorted.
[Taurahe] “AFTER THE MISSION, I SAID.”, Kandra reiterated forcefully, clearly annoyed as she stared right back at Ebo.
Krag shook his head, glancing at both of the quarrelling Grimtotems.
[Taurahe] “Figure it out.”, Krag scolded them both, [Taurahe] “We’ve ultimately a job to see through here, now. When it’s all said and done, I’ll dance at your wedding, okay?!”, Krag said with a smile as he attempted to make light of the situation.
[Taurahe] “Playing with fire is bad enough as is, bimbo”, Dagwa added, “but playing with hearts is even worse.”
Kandra rolled her eyes and nodded.
[Taurahe] “The dumb@$$, or the water-boy. Pick one.”, Dagwa shot over her shoulder with crossed arms as she walked away to rejoin the celebration. Kandra immediately and silently followed suit, with her head hung low, eager to be elsewhere.
The two shamans were the only ones remaining in the secluded area beside the inn.
[Taurahe] “…Kandra, hey?”, Krag broke the awkward, lingering silence with Ebo, [Taurahe] “Shy thing, that one… though to be honest I’m very surprised you two didn’t end up with each other earlier, before this.”
[Taurahe] “It’s… complicated, alright? Leave it alone for now. Like you said we have a mission to complete.”, Ebo responded as he walked away angry. Krag’s mouth opened slightly, but he often knew when he should stop talking. This, being one of those times.
Ebo meandered about, watching the mages conjure scenes of magically brightened arcanic mists and lines that dances about over head. It reminded him of his own technique with water, granting him solace by his lone self among a crowd of strangers.
[Taurahe] “Ebo.”, Odenan approached through the crowd with captain Valdross. The two paladins, Zelan and Beryl, were not among them, [Taurahe] “We must reconvene with the others. We will prepare after the festivities this night and leave in the morning.”
Ebo nodded slightly as his informers left to find the others. A heavy sigh escaped him as he finished watching the arcane light-show.
Ebo found himself in the dark night of the forest below, standing just before the Dead Scar, unable to sleep. The artificial river that bled into the Scar from the Elrendar river in the hill above gave the dead scar somewhat of a small, aesthetic waterfall.
An undeserved beauty for such a wretched land mark… Ebo thought as he meandered into the wake of the Dead Scar. He found it strange that no undead lingered about as he looked down the Scar, and to the land surrounding it.
I know what captain Valdross said… but this is… Odd…
The soft serendipitous howl of wind and the chirping of crickets in the dark came to a halt as his attention was inexplicably directed to the top of the Scourge-made falls to where the River Elrendar bled from.
A figure sat on a throne… dark and armored… too dark to tell who it may be.
Ebo could barely make out the plated armor and wickedly spiked helm that sat in the throne atop the falls, but his gaze was now locked on the piercing blue, cold dots in the dark figure, staring back.
“ You cannot save them all.”
He did not hear or expect the crowd of his peers and acquaintances that had suddenly formed behind him in the middle of the Dead Scar as he turned to face them.
A growing rumble was heard from the falls as he turned to face it. A large tide of water came crashing through the falls, threatening to engulf the lone water shaman and all those behind him.
Instinctually, his channelling staff before him, he felt the essence of the tides closing in on him. In a surge of intense effort, he brought the tides to a halt as they seemingly crashed to a stop before him, forming violent eddy currents whilst climbing higher and higher as the river kept flowing.
“ Impressive.”
He noticed his peers out of the corner of his eye, walking mindlessly, one by one, towards the mass of rising water he held so valiantly.
Krag!?
Toros!?
Odenan!?
Why are you all just walking into it … KANDRA!
He focused his efforts to push the tide away as the last of his peers made their way into the swirling torrents, but the more he did so, the raging water turned from it’s clear aqueous blue to a deep, thick red.
Blood?!, He determined as the metal-like smell pierced his nostrils.
Atop the mountain-like orb of blood stood the dark, armored figure, it’s piercing blue gaze down upon Ebo.
“ Ebow’ji…”
Ebo strained to keep the massive, building tide of blood at bay.
I control the flow, here, he thought.
Me. I am the life force! I am the flow!
He brought the flow in on himself, the mountain of blood coursing its many torrents violently into his body. In what seemed like a moment, the mass of blood before him was absorbed completely as he stood gigantic, seething with power.
“ Rise, champion…”
[Taurahe] “Rise, my champion!”, Krag woke Ebo with another soft kick from his hoof.
Ebo jolted awake inside his Blood Elven tented unit.
[Taurahe] “Big day ahead of us. I know we got most of the packing done last night but Odenan wants us on the road so we have as much daylight as possible.”
Of course he does…
[Taurahe] “A moment.”, Ebo demanded, flipping the layers of crimson Elven sheet silks to the side and mounting over the cushions surrounding the bed.
Ebo recalled the events of the night prior. Given the action of it’s morning, and the festivities of it’s day, the night was quite event-less and droll. He avoided the majority of his peers after the meeting with Captain Valdross, who expressed some concern that his lieutenant did not return within the day, as other Farstriders trickled into Tranquillien, elated to know it still stood despite the Scourge assault. The Paladins had left shortly after the festivities ended, and continued their travels on the path to the Eversong woods, which would eventually lead them to Silvermoon.
Ebo sat upright, preparing his robes, gloves, bags, and provisions his pack was able to carry. He recalled captain Valdross’ estimated travel time of one full day at brisk speed, and that was without incident. Odenan told his Grimtotems to prepare for more, as their true intent would demand more preparation in the coming days.
He left the tent, used the crystal to re-pack the tent to it’s stored form and handed it in to Kalarin the innkeeper. Assembled near the well at the border of the village was the false Earthen Ring task force and the two Blood-elven guides.
“Personally, I think you carry more than enough supplies and trinkets about you, Farwanders. It should only take us a full day to reach Lights Hope, but then again, it is best to be prepared for anything.”, Captain Valdross assessed the group as Ebo approached, “Very well then. As discussed the night prior, we shouldn’t expect much resistance from the Scourge in the following week. Amani trolls on the other hand are unpredictable. There may be bandits and the like abound but we should not fear them. And with that, let us be off.”, He ended with a nod as he led the way down the sloped path.
Ebo was the last to leave, but was eager to be away from Tranquillien. He still wondered where that spent totem could have ended up…
“Ebow’ji?”, Ebo heard the Dame call to him as she jogged towards him on the path, the empty wine bottle and spent, singed totem in hand. She stopped and gave him a stern stare as he turned his head to her.
Ebo tried to remain as calm as possible, though, on the inside a feeling of dread pulsated from the pit of his stomach. He stood, staring at the Dame from the side of his eye, awaiting an eternity to hear what she had to say.
“… Nevermind…”, her gaze fell to the ground as if defeated as she turned and left back to the village of Tranquillien.
And that’s all for now! chapter 11 coming… sometime, I think!