Vilmah
07-06-2006, 03:43 PM
She watched with both terror and excitement as her brother opened his eyes. Khiskiva reached a hand foreward, and allowed for the young troll to rest his face in her palm. "Xiarki?" She whispered.
Xiarki nodded and grunted. Bits of sand and dirt fell from his wild red mane, enhancing the odor that rose from his flesh. What once was dark and slate colored, almost like marble, now looked dull and transparent. Khiskiva could see his many veigns and arteries, which stood still without the pumping of blood. His mouth was tinted black. He didn't breathe. If this was what it meant to raise the dead, she wasn't impressed.
"Ya told me dat 'e would live again, Zum'rah." Khiskiva protested, walking towards the dark troll priest. "'e ain't alive! 'e's just a walkin' corpse!"
Zum'rah extended a hand, and placed it on Khiskiva's head, stroking her long red hair with his fingers. His huge hands were soothing, and in spite of her anger, she found herself lingering at his touch. "Ya don't kno whatchoo talkin' 'bout, chil'... lookat 'im. 'e be betta den befo', ain't 'e? Stronga... witout' silly 'tings like blood an' breat' ta 'old 'im back. 'e could be da best fighta we got. Ain'tcha proud?"
Khiskiva looked back at Xiarki. He was struggling to rediscover his arms and legs, and his eyes had the hollow life-less appearence of those Forsaken who continuously came through her home of Zul'Farrak, in search of adventure and treasure. How she loathed the way they ransacked their temples, ruined their homes, killed their people. Xiarti had been their latest victim. "Ah guess it's betta dis' way."
Zum'rah patted Xiarki on the shoulder, and the undead troll walked away slowly. His legs didn't seem accustomed to moving without a pulse. Khiskiva shuddered as she watched him leave, still feeling uncomfortable. The things that Zum'rah did were unnatural, and in her opinion, sickening. To see her brother this way, however, after she mourned his loss, it was almost as if she understood Zum'rah, and why he chose to follow this path. She shook her head, and watched her brother struggle to leave. "Come wid' me..?" Zum'rah said to Khiskiva, extending a hand.
She'd never been able to say "no" to him. His power over life and death seemed to destroy whatever revulsion she held for his appearence. It was his power that attracted her to him, and he took advantage of it every chance he got. He led her inside of one of his rooms, in their temple. It was lacishly furnished with gold and precious gems, silks, and expensive cloth tapestries. There was a dull smell in the air that reminded Khiskiva of dust. Zum'rah extended a hand towards the floor, and waved it, causing there to be a rune etched in the stone. "Show me whatcha been learnin', Khis."
Khiskiva waved her hands once, and pushed them in front of her. In the center of the rune, a wooden totem appeared.
It was small, and black in color. It seemed weak and useless. "Dat's all ah can do. Ah don' know why, but dis little
'ting appears, an' ah can't do nutin' wit' it."
Zum'rah chuckled. "It's a totem, chil. Except, we don' usually 'ave shamans in 'dis tribe. Ah wonda where ya got it from?"
"Shaman?" Khiskiva mused. She'd heard of shamans. Witch doctor like people, who could summon fourth strength from the earth and it's elements. SHe never dreamed that she could be one. "'ow do ah learn ta use dis powah? Ah wanta know everytin'."
The elder troll gave a dark grin. "Ah can't teach ya anytin' 'bout bein' a shaman.. ya gonna hafta go away if ya wanta do dat, an' you don't wanta leave me, do ya?"
The trolless shook her head, feeling ashamed. Only weeks before, her mother had been murdured by humans who dared to trapse into their land. How could she leave her people to be invaded by those types again? "No... ah wanta stay. Mebbe ya can teach me ta be a warria? Lahk mah brodda?"
"Mebbe. But fo' now, Khis," Zum'rah raised a hand, and immediately, Khiskiva could feel her body engulfed in ice. Her mind went numb. She watched as she walked to Zum'rah, and knelt in front of him, his hands caressing her red maned skull and long ears as she leaned closer towards his lap. "Ah just want ya to relax, huh? Lets just see what else ah can teach ya."
---
Khiskiva woke with a start the next day, inside of her room. The smell of burning herbs reached her nose, and she figured that it's potent smell must have awoken her. She was dressed in a thin silk night gown, which was hardly long enough to cover her nether regions. Making sure she was alone, the trolles dressed herself in leather armor, looked for the morning star she always had handy, and went outside to look for Xiarki. Everywhere, people were working. Some trolls were cleaning the dust and sand that had accumulated on their doors, some were doing laundry, some were working out their muscles or magic skills, in case another group of adventurers decided to arrive on their doorstep. Khiskiva put her hands around her mouth, and called "Xiarki!", but nobody answered her.
"Khiskiva?"
She turned, and faced an older trolless. She had deep creases in her face, and dark blue hair that fading into gray. In her hands, she held a bowl of burning flowers. "Mazulla? 'ow ya doin'?"
"Ah was about ta ask ya da same 'ting, chile! Where ya been? Ah been burnin' dese 'erbs ta try an' wake ya up."
Khiskiva looked at the older woman, confused. "Whatcha mean? Ah just saw ya yestaday."
"No, ah saw ya tree days ago! You been 'angin' out wit' dat Zum'rah?" Mazulla asked with a frown. "Ah don' 'tink we audda be littin' 'im 'ave 'is way... 'e's been raisen up da dead, an' dats against da teachin's o' Samedi. Ah don''tink ya should be 'angin' around wit' dat'--"
"Mazulla! Zum'rah is a leader in dis tribe. Ya should be showin' 'im more respect den dat. 'e knows what 'e's doin'."
Mazulla gave another frown. "Be careful. Ah don' know why ya was asleep fa so long, but it can' be fo' no good reason."
Khiskiva smiled reassuringly. "Ah'm sure it ain't notin', ah'll see ya lata."
"Be careful."
With that, she continued on her way, looking for Xiarti. Finally, she spotted him. He was carrying a pail of liquid, although clumsilly, and it was sloshing on the ground and on his clothes. "Xiarti!" Khiskiva said, rushing to his aid. She helped to pick the bucket up higher, and only then realized what was inside of it. "...blood?"
From inside of Zum'rah's part of the temple, she could hear a cackle. She knew he must have been inside, waiting for this pail of blood, and decided that perhaps she should bring it herself.
"Take a break, Xiarti. Ah'll take 'dis inside."
Placing her morning star on her belt, Khiskiva picked up the blood and went into the temple. Xiarti watched her take his pail, and stayed where he was, staring after her with his mouth wide open. The lights were dim, which was strange, because usually Zum'rah kept the place well lit. She slowed down her pace, to make sure she didn't trip in the dark. When she finally arrived at his door, something felt strange. Zum'rah was laughing, and there were wet slapping sounds coming from his direction. Khiskiva lifted the beaded curtain that served as Zum'rah's door, and looked inside.
The bucket of blood fell at her feet, and splashed everywhere.
Zum'rah looked up from his seat. He was nude from the waist down, being stratdled by a troll woman. The woman was older, and her skin transparent. Her veigns were clearer than Xiarti's, and looked almost black through her rotting skin. Dingy red hair fell in torrents about her body as she rocked up and down on the priest's lap, paying no mind to Khiskiva's entrance, or the blood on her half-decomposed body.
"...mamma?"
The troll woman didn't respond. She continued to pump her body against Zum'rah's, as the elder troll laughed. "Dat's right! Don' be shy! Ah just brought 'er allong so ah could find out why ya was a shaman, an' look what ah find! Ya mamma's a pretty lady, ain't she?"
Khiskiva shuddered, her feet rooted to the spot. Beside Zum'rah, another corpse stood nude, allowing him to caress her breasts with his free hand. She looked far different from Khiskiva, with long pink hair fastened into a topknot. Her hollow yellow eyes met Khiskiva's, and at once she realized, she'd been played for a fool. "Xiarti... 'e's not alive! Ah knew ya was usin' 'im as some sorta slave! 'ow could you, Zum'rah?"
"Oh, Khis..." Zum'rah cooed, pushing her mother off of him with one hand, and allowing her body to fall crumpled on the floor as he approached her. "Don' be upset. Ah did all o' 'dis ta 'elp ya. Ah found out, ya modda was a Darkspear. Dat's why you is a shaman. Ain't dat sometin'? Now... why dontcha join us fo' some fun, hah? If ya want, ah could bring ya brodda allong an'--"
"No, Zum'rah! Dat's terrible!" Shouted Khiskiva, backing away from him. "Ah can' believe ah trusted you... ya really are crazy!"
Zum'rah reached for his staff, and pointed it at Khiskiva. "Ah don' 'tink ah like ya tone, Khis. Now... why don'tcha come ova 'ere..."
Feeling her body stiffen, Khiskiva couldn't control her actions as she watched herself walk to Zum'rah. The priest chuckled as she pressed herself against him, and was soon joined by her mother and the other raised corpse.
"Dat's betta, now ain't it? Ah'm gonna 'ave a nice time, witcha tree, an'--"
His gloated was interrupted. Khiskiva regained her will to move as an arrow flew directly into Zum'rah's neck. The priest pushed the three females out of his way, his eyes burning like fire as he searched for the one responsible. In the door, intruders were filing in, one by one. One of them held a crossbow, and at the wave of his hand, a gigantic scoprion-like creature bounded over to Zum'rah, stinging and biting at his flesh.
"Get 'im, Scorpinox! Haha!" His owner cheered. He was a tall gangly troll, but not of Farrakari blood. By his side were a group of adventurers, it seemed, from different corners of the world. They began to attack Zum'rah and his undead women, while Khiskiva watched nearby.
"Ah don' 'tink so... ya won't get outta 'ere alive!" Zum'rah gargled past the arrow in his throat, sending curses at his attackers. One of them, a tauren, swung a polearm at the priest's face. Zum'rah was too distracted with his own defense against the warrior, that he didn't notice the scorpion creature shove his tail into his leg, sending waves of poison into his body. Trying quickly to heal himself with a spell, he gave one triumphant look to Khiskiva, until a rogue buried his blade into his back. "Khis... 'ow coulda... let 'dis 'appen...?"
Khiskiva watched with horror as he died. The adventurers killed the two raised corpses, and she let them destroy her mother, once again. This time, it felt good to see her die.
"'ey... who you be? You don' look like no sand troll," said the hunter as his companions began looting Zum'rah's room.
Khiskiva took a moment to regain her thought. "...huh? Oh. Right. No... actually, ah'm from... da Darkspear Tribe. At least," she gave one last look to the corpse. "Mah modda was. Who you be?"
"Ah'm Tuhl'jim. Hunta. Dis 'eres Scorpinox. 'ey," he looked to see if anyone was listening, but found they were being left alone. "ya wanna get outta 'ere? Ah know ya ain't no sand troll, but dem guys don't. Dey might attack ya if ah leave ya behin'."
She thought for a moment. Leaving her city, a few days ago, sounded horrible. It felt like her only choice, now. "...is dere any shaman trainers, where ya come from?"
"Shamans? Yeah," the hunter said with a shrug. "Loads. Why?"
Khiskiva stared deeply into his eyes, her desparation clear. "Take me dere. Ah gotta get out, before..." she looked at Zum'rah's corpse. Already she could feel his spirit, trying to re enter it. "...before it's too late."
Tuhl'jim shrugged and walked over to his group, to explain the situation. Khiskiva looked at the corpses with fear. She knew she'd have to turn that fear into power, just to survive.
Xiarki nodded and grunted. Bits of sand and dirt fell from his wild red mane, enhancing the odor that rose from his flesh. What once was dark and slate colored, almost like marble, now looked dull and transparent. Khiskiva could see his many veigns and arteries, which stood still without the pumping of blood. His mouth was tinted black. He didn't breathe. If this was what it meant to raise the dead, she wasn't impressed.
"Ya told me dat 'e would live again, Zum'rah." Khiskiva protested, walking towards the dark troll priest. "'e ain't alive! 'e's just a walkin' corpse!"
Zum'rah extended a hand, and placed it on Khiskiva's head, stroking her long red hair with his fingers. His huge hands were soothing, and in spite of her anger, she found herself lingering at his touch. "Ya don't kno whatchoo talkin' 'bout, chil'... lookat 'im. 'e be betta den befo', ain't 'e? Stronga... witout' silly 'tings like blood an' breat' ta 'old 'im back. 'e could be da best fighta we got. Ain'tcha proud?"
Khiskiva looked back at Xiarki. He was struggling to rediscover his arms and legs, and his eyes had the hollow life-less appearence of those Forsaken who continuously came through her home of Zul'Farrak, in search of adventure and treasure. How she loathed the way they ransacked their temples, ruined their homes, killed their people. Xiarti had been their latest victim. "Ah guess it's betta dis' way."
Zum'rah patted Xiarki on the shoulder, and the undead troll walked away slowly. His legs didn't seem accustomed to moving without a pulse. Khiskiva shuddered as she watched him leave, still feeling uncomfortable. The things that Zum'rah did were unnatural, and in her opinion, sickening. To see her brother this way, however, after she mourned his loss, it was almost as if she understood Zum'rah, and why he chose to follow this path. She shook her head, and watched her brother struggle to leave. "Come wid' me..?" Zum'rah said to Khiskiva, extending a hand.
She'd never been able to say "no" to him. His power over life and death seemed to destroy whatever revulsion she held for his appearence. It was his power that attracted her to him, and he took advantage of it every chance he got. He led her inside of one of his rooms, in their temple. It was lacishly furnished with gold and precious gems, silks, and expensive cloth tapestries. There was a dull smell in the air that reminded Khiskiva of dust. Zum'rah extended a hand towards the floor, and waved it, causing there to be a rune etched in the stone. "Show me whatcha been learnin', Khis."
Khiskiva waved her hands once, and pushed them in front of her. In the center of the rune, a wooden totem appeared.
It was small, and black in color. It seemed weak and useless. "Dat's all ah can do. Ah don' know why, but dis little
'ting appears, an' ah can't do nutin' wit' it."
Zum'rah chuckled. "It's a totem, chil. Except, we don' usually 'ave shamans in 'dis tribe. Ah wonda where ya got it from?"
"Shaman?" Khiskiva mused. She'd heard of shamans. Witch doctor like people, who could summon fourth strength from the earth and it's elements. SHe never dreamed that she could be one. "'ow do ah learn ta use dis powah? Ah wanta know everytin'."
The elder troll gave a dark grin. "Ah can't teach ya anytin' 'bout bein' a shaman.. ya gonna hafta go away if ya wanta do dat, an' you don't wanta leave me, do ya?"
The trolless shook her head, feeling ashamed. Only weeks before, her mother had been murdured by humans who dared to trapse into their land. How could she leave her people to be invaded by those types again? "No... ah wanta stay. Mebbe ya can teach me ta be a warria? Lahk mah brodda?"
"Mebbe. But fo' now, Khis," Zum'rah raised a hand, and immediately, Khiskiva could feel her body engulfed in ice. Her mind went numb. She watched as she walked to Zum'rah, and knelt in front of him, his hands caressing her red maned skull and long ears as she leaned closer towards his lap. "Ah just want ya to relax, huh? Lets just see what else ah can teach ya."
---
Khiskiva woke with a start the next day, inside of her room. The smell of burning herbs reached her nose, and she figured that it's potent smell must have awoken her. She was dressed in a thin silk night gown, which was hardly long enough to cover her nether regions. Making sure she was alone, the trolles dressed herself in leather armor, looked for the morning star she always had handy, and went outside to look for Xiarki. Everywhere, people were working. Some trolls were cleaning the dust and sand that had accumulated on their doors, some were doing laundry, some were working out their muscles or magic skills, in case another group of adventurers decided to arrive on their doorstep. Khiskiva put her hands around her mouth, and called "Xiarki!", but nobody answered her.
"Khiskiva?"
She turned, and faced an older trolless. She had deep creases in her face, and dark blue hair that fading into gray. In her hands, she held a bowl of burning flowers. "Mazulla? 'ow ya doin'?"
"Ah was about ta ask ya da same 'ting, chile! Where ya been? Ah been burnin' dese 'erbs ta try an' wake ya up."
Khiskiva looked at the older woman, confused. "Whatcha mean? Ah just saw ya yestaday."
"No, ah saw ya tree days ago! You been 'angin' out wit' dat Zum'rah?" Mazulla asked with a frown. "Ah don' 'tink we audda be littin' 'im 'ave 'is way... 'e's been raisen up da dead, an' dats against da teachin's o' Samedi. Ah don''tink ya should be 'angin' around wit' dat'--"
"Mazulla! Zum'rah is a leader in dis tribe. Ya should be showin' 'im more respect den dat. 'e knows what 'e's doin'."
Mazulla gave another frown. "Be careful. Ah don' know why ya was asleep fa so long, but it can' be fo' no good reason."
Khiskiva smiled reassuringly. "Ah'm sure it ain't notin', ah'll see ya lata."
"Be careful."
With that, she continued on her way, looking for Xiarti. Finally, she spotted him. He was carrying a pail of liquid, although clumsilly, and it was sloshing on the ground and on his clothes. "Xiarti!" Khiskiva said, rushing to his aid. She helped to pick the bucket up higher, and only then realized what was inside of it. "...blood?"
From inside of Zum'rah's part of the temple, she could hear a cackle. She knew he must have been inside, waiting for this pail of blood, and decided that perhaps she should bring it herself.
"Take a break, Xiarti. Ah'll take 'dis inside."
Placing her morning star on her belt, Khiskiva picked up the blood and went into the temple. Xiarti watched her take his pail, and stayed where he was, staring after her with his mouth wide open. The lights were dim, which was strange, because usually Zum'rah kept the place well lit. She slowed down her pace, to make sure she didn't trip in the dark. When she finally arrived at his door, something felt strange. Zum'rah was laughing, and there were wet slapping sounds coming from his direction. Khiskiva lifted the beaded curtain that served as Zum'rah's door, and looked inside.
The bucket of blood fell at her feet, and splashed everywhere.
Zum'rah looked up from his seat. He was nude from the waist down, being stratdled by a troll woman. The woman was older, and her skin transparent. Her veigns were clearer than Xiarti's, and looked almost black through her rotting skin. Dingy red hair fell in torrents about her body as she rocked up and down on the priest's lap, paying no mind to Khiskiva's entrance, or the blood on her half-decomposed body.
"...mamma?"
The troll woman didn't respond. She continued to pump her body against Zum'rah's, as the elder troll laughed. "Dat's right! Don' be shy! Ah just brought 'er allong so ah could find out why ya was a shaman, an' look what ah find! Ya mamma's a pretty lady, ain't she?"
Khiskiva shuddered, her feet rooted to the spot. Beside Zum'rah, another corpse stood nude, allowing him to caress her breasts with his free hand. She looked far different from Khiskiva, with long pink hair fastened into a topknot. Her hollow yellow eyes met Khiskiva's, and at once she realized, she'd been played for a fool. "Xiarti... 'e's not alive! Ah knew ya was usin' 'im as some sorta slave! 'ow could you, Zum'rah?"
"Oh, Khis..." Zum'rah cooed, pushing her mother off of him with one hand, and allowing her body to fall crumpled on the floor as he approached her. "Don' be upset. Ah did all o' 'dis ta 'elp ya. Ah found out, ya modda was a Darkspear. Dat's why you is a shaman. Ain't dat sometin'? Now... why dontcha join us fo' some fun, hah? If ya want, ah could bring ya brodda allong an'--"
"No, Zum'rah! Dat's terrible!" Shouted Khiskiva, backing away from him. "Ah can' believe ah trusted you... ya really are crazy!"
Zum'rah reached for his staff, and pointed it at Khiskiva. "Ah don' 'tink ah like ya tone, Khis. Now... why don'tcha come ova 'ere..."
Feeling her body stiffen, Khiskiva couldn't control her actions as she watched herself walk to Zum'rah. The priest chuckled as she pressed herself against him, and was soon joined by her mother and the other raised corpse.
"Dat's betta, now ain't it? Ah'm gonna 'ave a nice time, witcha tree, an'--"
His gloated was interrupted. Khiskiva regained her will to move as an arrow flew directly into Zum'rah's neck. The priest pushed the three females out of his way, his eyes burning like fire as he searched for the one responsible. In the door, intruders were filing in, one by one. One of them held a crossbow, and at the wave of his hand, a gigantic scoprion-like creature bounded over to Zum'rah, stinging and biting at his flesh.
"Get 'im, Scorpinox! Haha!" His owner cheered. He was a tall gangly troll, but not of Farrakari blood. By his side were a group of adventurers, it seemed, from different corners of the world. They began to attack Zum'rah and his undead women, while Khiskiva watched nearby.
"Ah don' 'tink so... ya won't get outta 'ere alive!" Zum'rah gargled past the arrow in his throat, sending curses at his attackers. One of them, a tauren, swung a polearm at the priest's face. Zum'rah was too distracted with his own defense against the warrior, that he didn't notice the scorpion creature shove his tail into his leg, sending waves of poison into his body. Trying quickly to heal himself with a spell, he gave one triumphant look to Khiskiva, until a rogue buried his blade into his back. "Khis... 'ow coulda... let 'dis 'appen...?"
Khiskiva watched with horror as he died. The adventurers killed the two raised corpses, and she let them destroy her mother, once again. This time, it felt good to see her die.
"'ey... who you be? You don' look like no sand troll," said the hunter as his companions began looting Zum'rah's room.
Khiskiva took a moment to regain her thought. "...huh? Oh. Right. No... actually, ah'm from... da Darkspear Tribe. At least," she gave one last look to the corpse. "Mah modda was. Who you be?"
"Ah'm Tuhl'jim. Hunta. Dis 'eres Scorpinox. 'ey," he looked to see if anyone was listening, but found they were being left alone. "ya wanna get outta 'ere? Ah know ya ain't no sand troll, but dem guys don't. Dey might attack ya if ah leave ya behin'."
She thought for a moment. Leaving her city, a few days ago, sounded horrible. It felt like her only choice, now. "...is dere any shaman trainers, where ya come from?"
"Shamans? Yeah," the hunter said with a shrug. "Loads. Why?"
Khiskiva stared deeply into his eyes, her desparation clear. "Take me dere. Ah gotta get out, before..." she looked at Zum'rah's corpse. Already she could feel his spirit, trying to re enter it. "...before it's too late."
Tuhl'jim shrugged and walked over to his group, to explain the situation. Khiskiva looked at the corpses with fear. She knew she'd have to turn that fear into power, just to survive.