Chikt
01-13-2009, 10:36 AM
((MASSIVE POSTS ARE MASSIVE.))
The clang of steel on steel resounded out over the Dragonblight as well-crafted Horde weapons clashed with the jagged, rusting metal of a Scourge army. Battlecries were sounded out from both sides as corpses and bones littered the snow, gradually coating them in a fresh layer of new snow. Not far from the battle what appeared to be a large mound of snow slowly snaked its way along the ground towards the apparent commander of the Scourge forces, a mounted Death Knight standing well away from the battle at hand and surrounded by a cadre of powerful undead.
The pile of snow moved at a snails pace, inching closer and closer to the Death Knight and his squad at a speed unnoticeable in the chaos. Eventually, the mound of snow appeared to stop moving totally just feet from the death knight, and paused. Moments later, flame burst up from the snow and took the shape of a fire elemental – melting the snow beneath it as it rushed towards the group of Scourge – followed closely by a white-leather clad Tauren bursting out from beneath a mammoth skin, camouflaged by the freshly falling snow. The reaction of the undead was immediate, raising their weapons and charging towards the Tauren and Elemental, though their Death Knight leader only watched with amusement.
Reaching the Tauren, the Undead raised their arms to strike, only to stop in their tracks stunned as it bought a single hoof down upon the ground in a warstomp. Before they could recover, the Tauren chanted a single word of request to the elements – bringing down a powerful bolt of thunder that struck the ground and sent the undead corpses scattering outwards from around him, littering the nearby landscape with bones, armor and weapons.
The Death Knight’s amused expression wiped away, he raised his weapon high and sent his Deathcharger galloping towards the Tauren who braced his arms and legs out as the Death Knight got closer – simply sidestepping as the armoured attacker rode past and swang his sword at the Tauren, narrowly missing him. Spinning on a hoof in the snow, the Tauren swung both his hands back by his right side – a globe of lightning forming in his hands – before thrusting his arms forward as the Death Knight turned to attempt another pass. The ball of lightning striking the Deathcharger in the side as it turned, making it rear up and toss the Death Knight off into the snow with a thud.
The Tauren lowered his hands and looked fairly satisfied with himself for a moment as the Death Knight climbed back to his feet, obviously less than impressed. Bringing his hands back down by his side for another Lightning Bolt, the Tauren’s chant to the spirits was cut short as the Death Knight unsheathed his large two-handed sword, held out a hand and with the flick of a wrist sent the Tauren flying forwards to be only feet away from his attacker. Slightly more worried now and with no way to send his attacker back to a safe distance, the Tauren prepared for the worst – only to have a fiery hand descent down upon the Death Knight’s head, diverting its attention to his Fire Elemental companion.
Wasting no time, the Tauren bought his hands back by his side and began to chant another request to the spirits. The Death Knight hearing the plea and spinning around to level his glowing eyes at the Tauren, the two stared eachother down for a split second before the Death Knight was struck by the bolt of lightning directly to his chest. Sinking to his knees before slumping onto his chest in the snow.
Removing his leathery white cowl, the Tauren let out a sigh and shook his head to get what little snow had gotten into his mane shaken out – glancing over at the group of horde that cheered victoriously, weapons raised over their heads. Smirking to himself, the bull stroked a hand through his goatee and let out a sigh, turning to look off at the snowy plains.
For a long moment, everything in the Dragonblight fell silent. The serenity of the moment was short lived, the warcries from the group of Horde sounded out again, and the echoing tone of the Fire elemental bellowed out over the distant voices.
“DIOMADES!”
Glancing back at the Fire Elemental – who was now motioning towards the sky – Diomades followed the direction of the Fire Elementals interest and found himself face to face with a Frost Wyrm diving down directly towards him. Eyes widening for a moment, he turned and began to run in the opposite direction, but was far too late – getting struck in the back of the head and sent flying head over hoof to land unconscious in the snow after what felt like an eternity of spinning in the air, leaving a trench of snow and dirt in his wake. Hearing only the roar of the Frost Wyrm before he blacked out completely.
EIGHT YEARS EARLIER
“ADANADO! Get your head down!”
The warning was too little too late for the young Tauren, who spun around just in time to get knocked into by an Infernal as it plummeted out of the sky and made landfall on Mount Hyjal. Sent back a fair distance with several other Tauren that had been standing by his side before sliding sprawled-out upon the grass, Adanado began to fade out of consciousness before he saw his fathers face hovering before him. The tribes Chieftain and an elder, his father showed his age in his features – an experienced, wise but powerful Tauren. Adanado was quickly bought out of his thoughts as he felt a few gentle smacks to his cheeks.
His father spoke in a deep, gruff tone. “Adanado! Are you alright? Get up! We don’t have time for this!”
Feeling a hand grip his own and pull him up, Adanado dizzily climbed to his hooves and looked around himself. He’d been lucky where many of his brothers were not in having survived the Infernal making landfall. Many of the other Tauren’s bodies lay twisted and scorched, others groaned and lifted themselves up from the ground. There was little time to think further on the matter, however, as the Infernal too started to clamber out of the crater it had made. Adanado felt a tug on his hand and quickly followed it as his father dragged him back in the direction of the Horde camp.
Falling back behind a line of orcs that charged forward, axes held high as they went after the newly landed infernal. Adanado felt his father push down on his shoulder, forcing the young bull to sit down upon the grass. He was about to ask what was going on, but was given little time as the older bull turned and began to rush back towards the infernal with the rest of the Orcs. Adanado knew that he should know better than to worry about his father, but sitting there on the grass he couldn’t help but fret. This was much more than the Centaur they’d fought out in the Barrens.
The world began to spin and Adanado blinked as he felt a burning pain in his chest. Glancing down, he drew his hand away from his chest to find a large, deep gash running diagonally along the length of his chest. The realization of his wound and the lack of adrenaline masking the pain, it didn’t take long for the young bull to become overwhelmed by the sensation and slump back against the grass, breathing shallowly.
The guttural sound of a horn sounded out in the distance and Adanado turned his head to look in the direction it came from. Blinking away tears of pain, a bright orb of light passing by him caught his attention and he followed it with his eyes. Watching as it disappeared through the trees. He looked over to watch the group of orcs along with his father fighting off the infernal when a bright flash over the tree line forced him to shield his eyes - a wave of heat passing over him. Looking briefly beyond his arm to try and see his father, all Diomades eyes could make out was a giant pillar of flame towering over him – and what appeared to be brightly glowing eyes staring back at him - before he passed out.
Dreams and images played out in his mind, visions of his childhood and his upbringing. His tribe was only small and didn’t move often, so they had a fairly settled and relaxed lifestyle. There was a lot more room for training, and Adanado’s father had pushed him hard as a child to become the best that he could be, and then some. For the longest time he’d hated his father for how hard he’d pushed him as a boy, but now as a young man he respected his father for it. It was painful and difficult, but it made him grow stronger in body and in spirit.
“Adanado.”
The world around him began to come into focus as Adanado opened his eyes. Everything was fuzzy at first, and he could only make out a pink blob hovering above him, staring down at him. The young Tauren groaned and shook his head, the object slowly coming into focus as he realized it was one of the pink-skinned people he’d seen fighting on Hyjal. The second thing he noticed was how dark it was, the sky full of stars and the air smelled of smoke.
Adanado spoke in Taurahe as he looked around himself. He was laying on furs out in the open, right outside the Orc barracks. “Where am I…?”
The being hovering over him tilted its head in confusion, and it took the Tauren a moment to realize that it couldn’t understand him. He paused for a second to think about the way the Orcs had spoken to the pink skinned creatures before speaking in what little broken common he’d picked up. “Where…?”
The Human nodded. “We found you when we were passing through here, patched you up and took you back to what’s left of one of your forward camps.”
Pausing a moment again, Adanado nodded in understanding before speaking again. “Where… Father?” The Human tilted his head again curiously before frowning and replying. “They didn’t tell me much more than your name.”
Sitting up slowly and wincing at the pain in his chest, Adanado reached for it and glanced down at the bloodied bandages now wrapped tight around his torso. That was when he noticed much of the area around him was charred and black. Frowning, he lay back down on the ground carefully and sighed. A long moment passing before the Human spoke up once again. “How are you feeling?” The Tauren nodded slowly, wincing in pain as he did so – it wasn’t so bad as before, at least.
Forcing a smile, the Human held his hand out to the Tauren as he attempted to make conversation. “The name’s Judas. Judas Ackerson. I’m a soldier here aiding Jaina Proudmoore. What do you do, Adanado?”
The Tauren strained to understand much of what the Human said, or the motion with his hand, he at least understood most of the question but wasn’t very sure of how to answer it – he didn’t know a word for Shaman. Pausing for a long moment to consider his answer before he finally spoke. “Listen… to gods?” He questioned his answer after he said it as he began to consider it more. Gods differed from race to race, but listening to the whispers of the Spirits was the best way he knew to explain his skill.
Blinking in surprise at the answer, there was a moment of silence before Judas smirked and crossed his arms. “Listen to the gods, huh? Like Diomedes?”
The response made Adanado stare at Judas confused, tilting his head as he tried to pronounce the word for himself. “Diomades?” The Human laughed and shook his head. “No, no. Diomedes. He was a man who was said to be advised by the gods themselves, and was as cunning as them.”
Adanado looked down thoughtfully, but his quiet contemplation was short lived as the guttural sound of an explosion sounded off distantly, a plume of green smoke appearing on the horizon. The sound of battle cries and fighting barely audible on the air once more. The Tauren looked back to Judas, who now stared off in the general direction of the fighting with a steely glare. Adanado broke the silence between them with a single word – one that he’d heard so many times before. “War?”
Judas looked back to the Tauren and blinked before nodding slowly. “It was meant to have ended a few hours ago kid. You missed the fireworks. Seems there’s still something out there wanting a fight.” Standing up, the Human turned and wandered over to a nearby shield and sword planted in the dirt. Gathering them up, he turned and began to walk off in the direction of the fighting.
Frowning, Adanado got to his hooves and clutched his stomach in pain as he shifted. Limping after the human despite his better judgement. Judas looked back at the Tauren as he walked and narrowed his eyes. “You should stay here Adanado. You’re not going to be talking to any gods with the state you’re in.”
Despite Judas’ words, Adanado continued to follow, trying his best to muster the focus to call some sort of healing from the spirits, if only to temporarily mange the pain in his chest. But the focus never came, and he simply grit his teeth – trying to focus more on the feeling of the dried, charred grass crunching under his hooves. Judas simply decided to ignore the stubborn bull.
Eventually the two entered a clearing – it was full of Night Elves, Humans, Orcs, Trolls, Tauren – all fighting against demons and infernals once more. Charred bodies lay everywhere, so burned that it was difficult to make out what they had once belonged to. Adanado felt his blood go cold. Just in the distance was the World Tree, the thing they had come to defend – now charred, its leaves gone, fire having burned it and – seemingly – much of the forest surrounding it away. It seemed only a few forces remained to continue fighting.
Blinking and glancing around as he realized that Judas had already run off to join the fighting, the Tauren frowned and squinted, trying to locate his father among the mass of warring peoples. Forging forward, trying to muster the focus once more to call upon some sort of energy to defend himself if at all necessary, he wandered behind the lines of soldiers as he tried to locate the elderly Tauren.
The sound of the fighting ringing in his ears, Adanado was not prepared for the Wrathguard that spotted him and proceeded to leap over the Horde forces and land just before the Tauren. Looking up in shock at the towering demon, Adanado scrambled backwards and stumbled onto his backside. Raising his arms up in front of him in a futile effort to protect himself. The demon let out a bellowing laugh, bringing back one of his large, pointed axes and prepared to jab at the cowering Tauren.
Adanado couldn’t hear the sound of hooves thundering towards him over the noise of his own heartbeat, but he heard the roar of the demon as it went to finish him off. Clenching his eyes shut tightly as he prepared himself for the killing blow – but it never came.
Opening his eyes and looking beyond his arms he saw his father before him, standing between him and the demon – arms out by his sides. Adanado blinked in shock before an ecstatic look crossed his features and he cried out in Taurahe. “Father!”
Rokoce looked back over his shoulder at his son, forcing a smile before he spoke in a hushed, pained voice. “Adanado… Run…”
Looking confused at his fathers words, Adanado’s expression quickly became horrified as blood trickled down from the corner of his fathers mouth and matted his silvery fur. The wet sound of metal leaving meat as the demon drew its blade back out of the Tauren and Rokoce slumped to his knees and fell to his chest. Tears welled up in the corners of Adanado’s eyes as he saw his father lying there before him, dead. His blood still dripping from the demons axe as it grinned and laughed sadistically.
The demon took a step toward Adanado, towering over the young Tauren who was still overcome with horror at the sight of his fathers death. Smirking as it raised its axe up over its head, the demon prepared to bring it down in a slicing motion at Adanado when a yell came from the crowd of fighters and Judas rushed from it. “Don’t be an idiot, kid! MOVE!”
The Demon glanced over at the next approaching defender when it felt furred hands laid upon its belly, glaring back down at Adanado as it remembered its more immediate prey. But whatever thoughts it had of killing the Tauren were quickly wiped away as Adanado glared up at the demon and there was a guttural ‘thump’ followed by the splatter of gore that sprayed out behind it - the demons midsection leaving the rest of its body – torn away by the sheer power of the earthshock that Adanado had mustered in his rage and pain. The demons torso fell forward and landed in the mud behind the Tauren – its lower extremities still held upright by Adanado’s shaking, blood-soaked hands as he still stared upwards at where the demons face used to be.
Judas stopped short a moment as the demon was blown apart, pausing for only a second before rushing to Adanado and grabbing the Tauren’s wrist, pulling him to his hooves and dragging him off the battlefield as he spoke. “That’s it. I’m getting you out of here.”
Several hours passed and the sun began to rise. The sound of fighting over Hyjal had dimmed as Adanado rested in the ruins of one of the Humans bunkers, wrapped in a fur that Judas managed so salvage on the way. Adanado still shook. He’d been told to rest, to get some sleep, but he couldn’t get the image out of his mind of his father – the feeling of the Demon’s torso exploding under his hands. He’d never been so close to death before.
Judas wandered into the bunker, tossing the Tauren a canteen. Adanado glanced up and managed to catch it after a little bit of juggling. Blinking at the Human curiously, Judas motioned out of the bunker. “We’re moving out. Get your stuff together. We’ll be passing through the Barrens so we’ll leave you close to home.”
Without waiting for a response, Judas turned and walked back out of the bunker, followed shortly by Adanado. Several carts awaited outside, pulled by numerous kinds of large animal. The nearest one – totally full of humans and pulled by horse – was where Judas sat, waiting for the Tauren. Adanado wandered to the vehicle and climbed onboard, sitting on the back end of it across from the Human, and the wagon began to move.
The trip was largely silent between the Human and Tauren as Judas watched Adanado warily, and the tauren simply stared at the ground as it moved beneath the wagon. The Human soldiers chattered amongst themselves and Adanado did his best to make note of what exactly they said, trying to decipher their words to understand more. After a time however, Judas spoke once more. “That was quite some ‘listening to the gods’ you did back there.” Adanado didn’t acknowledge him with a response.
Grunting, Judas brushed himself off before continuing. “I’m sorry about your father, kid. But people die in war. There’s nothing we can do to prevent it.”
Adanado spoke quietly in Taurahe. “Unless we gain the power necessary to stop it. I failed him and I have to find a way to live with myself now. I’ll get the power. And I’ll stop war from ever happening again. Whatever it takes.”
Judas raised an eyebrow and looked at Adanado suspiciously, the Tauren looked back up to the Human and spoke bluntly in common. “The name’s Diomades.”
THE PRESENT
Diomades eyes shot open and he sat up with a start. Panting as he awoke. A moment later he realized he was gripping his chest, drawing his hand away to find his chest wrapped tight with bandages. Glancing around himself, it didn’t take too much to identify where he was – Dalaran, in the Filthy Animal. Several other injured or wounded Horde soldiers lay in the hammocks around him, sleeping soundly, as a female Tauren tended to each of them. The sound of drinking patrons came from the floor below.
Swinging his legs off the hammock, Diomades planted his hooves on the floor and stood shakily. The Tauren nurse noticed that he was up and quickly rushed to him. “Sir! Sir, you really shouldn’t be moving. An old scar of yours had to be stitched shut again and there’s a chance the stitches will break if you move too much.”
Diomades snorted at the irony. “I’ve had worse.” It wasn’t until after he spoke that he noticed the pain in his voice and frowned. Reaching down into a crate that rested beside his bed, pulling on a pair of pants, strapping through a belt before pulling his tabard directly over his bandages. Picking up the crate, he turned to look at the nurse. “Do you know what happened out there?”
The other Tauren shook her head, glancing at the other soldiers in the room. “We’ve been getting so many injured and wounded. They send a lot back here to Dalaran to heal – afraid that the injured ones will be turned into Scourge more easily I guess. It’s nothing unusual. We just got so many at once this time.”
Nodding slowly, Diomades glanced at the other soldiers before sighing and walking past the other Tauren. “My guild needs me.”
As he wandered through Dalaran lugging the crate full of his gear he felt the glares of many Alliance eyes upon him. Times had changed and as bad as things used to be eight years ago, he knew it was preferable to the pain of having to see his fathers efforts be for naught. That even more people would have to die and to suffer for war. And yet, he had gotten no closer to finding a way to stop war and had to make do protecting the innocent from a fate such as that he had befallen eight years ago.
Wandering past the fountain, Diomades paused just short of the bank. Placing the crate full of his gear upon the ground, he rummaged through it until he found his coin purse. Reaching in and pulling out a gold coin along with a dagger kept with his gear. He began to scratch away at the coin, gold filings falling to the cobblestones before holding the coin up to the light. Satisfied, he turned and tossed it into the fountain before picking up his crate full of gear.
The gold coin sunk to the bottom of the fountain, the engraved message clear upon its surface through the calm water.
“Why did he have to die for me?”
Diomades paused briefly and shook his head. Never looking back to the fountain as he continued on.
It had become obvious to him now that in order to stop war, the ones fighting it had to die.
The clang of steel on steel resounded out over the Dragonblight as well-crafted Horde weapons clashed with the jagged, rusting metal of a Scourge army. Battlecries were sounded out from both sides as corpses and bones littered the snow, gradually coating them in a fresh layer of new snow. Not far from the battle what appeared to be a large mound of snow slowly snaked its way along the ground towards the apparent commander of the Scourge forces, a mounted Death Knight standing well away from the battle at hand and surrounded by a cadre of powerful undead.
The pile of snow moved at a snails pace, inching closer and closer to the Death Knight and his squad at a speed unnoticeable in the chaos. Eventually, the mound of snow appeared to stop moving totally just feet from the death knight, and paused. Moments later, flame burst up from the snow and took the shape of a fire elemental – melting the snow beneath it as it rushed towards the group of Scourge – followed closely by a white-leather clad Tauren bursting out from beneath a mammoth skin, camouflaged by the freshly falling snow. The reaction of the undead was immediate, raising their weapons and charging towards the Tauren and Elemental, though their Death Knight leader only watched with amusement.
Reaching the Tauren, the Undead raised their arms to strike, only to stop in their tracks stunned as it bought a single hoof down upon the ground in a warstomp. Before they could recover, the Tauren chanted a single word of request to the elements – bringing down a powerful bolt of thunder that struck the ground and sent the undead corpses scattering outwards from around him, littering the nearby landscape with bones, armor and weapons.
The Death Knight’s amused expression wiped away, he raised his weapon high and sent his Deathcharger galloping towards the Tauren who braced his arms and legs out as the Death Knight got closer – simply sidestepping as the armoured attacker rode past and swang his sword at the Tauren, narrowly missing him. Spinning on a hoof in the snow, the Tauren swung both his hands back by his right side – a globe of lightning forming in his hands – before thrusting his arms forward as the Death Knight turned to attempt another pass. The ball of lightning striking the Deathcharger in the side as it turned, making it rear up and toss the Death Knight off into the snow with a thud.
The Tauren lowered his hands and looked fairly satisfied with himself for a moment as the Death Knight climbed back to his feet, obviously less than impressed. Bringing his hands back down by his side for another Lightning Bolt, the Tauren’s chant to the spirits was cut short as the Death Knight unsheathed his large two-handed sword, held out a hand and with the flick of a wrist sent the Tauren flying forwards to be only feet away from his attacker. Slightly more worried now and with no way to send his attacker back to a safe distance, the Tauren prepared for the worst – only to have a fiery hand descent down upon the Death Knight’s head, diverting its attention to his Fire Elemental companion.
Wasting no time, the Tauren bought his hands back by his side and began to chant another request to the spirits. The Death Knight hearing the plea and spinning around to level his glowing eyes at the Tauren, the two stared eachother down for a split second before the Death Knight was struck by the bolt of lightning directly to his chest. Sinking to his knees before slumping onto his chest in the snow.
Removing his leathery white cowl, the Tauren let out a sigh and shook his head to get what little snow had gotten into his mane shaken out – glancing over at the group of horde that cheered victoriously, weapons raised over their heads. Smirking to himself, the bull stroked a hand through his goatee and let out a sigh, turning to look off at the snowy plains.
For a long moment, everything in the Dragonblight fell silent. The serenity of the moment was short lived, the warcries from the group of Horde sounded out again, and the echoing tone of the Fire elemental bellowed out over the distant voices.
“DIOMADES!”
Glancing back at the Fire Elemental – who was now motioning towards the sky – Diomades followed the direction of the Fire Elementals interest and found himself face to face with a Frost Wyrm diving down directly towards him. Eyes widening for a moment, he turned and began to run in the opposite direction, but was far too late – getting struck in the back of the head and sent flying head over hoof to land unconscious in the snow after what felt like an eternity of spinning in the air, leaving a trench of snow and dirt in his wake. Hearing only the roar of the Frost Wyrm before he blacked out completely.
EIGHT YEARS EARLIER
“ADANADO! Get your head down!”
The warning was too little too late for the young Tauren, who spun around just in time to get knocked into by an Infernal as it plummeted out of the sky and made landfall on Mount Hyjal. Sent back a fair distance with several other Tauren that had been standing by his side before sliding sprawled-out upon the grass, Adanado began to fade out of consciousness before he saw his fathers face hovering before him. The tribes Chieftain and an elder, his father showed his age in his features – an experienced, wise but powerful Tauren. Adanado was quickly bought out of his thoughts as he felt a few gentle smacks to his cheeks.
His father spoke in a deep, gruff tone. “Adanado! Are you alright? Get up! We don’t have time for this!”
Feeling a hand grip his own and pull him up, Adanado dizzily climbed to his hooves and looked around himself. He’d been lucky where many of his brothers were not in having survived the Infernal making landfall. Many of the other Tauren’s bodies lay twisted and scorched, others groaned and lifted themselves up from the ground. There was little time to think further on the matter, however, as the Infernal too started to clamber out of the crater it had made. Adanado felt a tug on his hand and quickly followed it as his father dragged him back in the direction of the Horde camp.
Falling back behind a line of orcs that charged forward, axes held high as they went after the newly landed infernal. Adanado felt his father push down on his shoulder, forcing the young bull to sit down upon the grass. He was about to ask what was going on, but was given little time as the older bull turned and began to rush back towards the infernal with the rest of the Orcs. Adanado knew that he should know better than to worry about his father, but sitting there on the grass he couldn’t help but fret. This was much more than the Centaur they’d fought out in the Barrens.
The world began to spin and Adanado blinked as he felt a burning pain in his chest. Glancing down, he drew his hand away from his chest to find a large, deep gash running diagonally along the length of his chest. The realization of his wound and the lack of adrenaline masking the pain, it didn’t take long for the young bull to become overwhelmed by the sensation and slump back against the grass, breathing shallowly.
The guttural sound of a horn sounded out in the distance and Adanado turned his head to look in the direction it came from. Blinking away tears of pain, a bright orb of light passing by him caught his attention and he followed it with his eyes. Watching as it disappeared through the trees. He looked over to watch the group of orcs along with his father fighting off the infernal when a bright flash over the tree line forced him to shield his eyes - a wave of heat passing over him. Looking briefly beyond his arm to try and see his father, all Diomades eyes could make out was a giant pillar of flame towering over him – and what appeared to be brightly glowing eyes staring back at him - before he passed out.
Dreams and images played out in his mind, visions of his childhood and his upbringing. His tribe was only small and didn’t move often, so they had a fairly settled and relaxed lifestyle. There was a lot more room for training, and Adanado’s father had pushed him hard as a child to become the best that he could be, and then some. For the longest time he’d hated his father for how hard he’d pushed him as a boy, but now as a young man he respected his father for it. It was painful and difficult, but it made him grow stronger in body and in spirit.
“Adanado.”
The world around him began to come into focus as Adanado opened his eyes. Everything was fuzzy at first, and he could only make out a pink blob hovering above him, staring down at him. The young Tauren groaned and shook his head, the object slowly coming into focus as he realized it was one of the pink-skinned people he’d seen fighting on Hyjal. The second thing he noticed was how dark it was, the sky full of stars and the air smelled of smoke.
Adanado spoke in Taurahe as he looked around himself. He was laying on furs out in the open, right outside the Orc barracks. “Where am I…?”
The being hovering over him tilted its head in confusion, and it took the Tauren a moment to realize that it couldn’t understand him. He paused for a second to think about the way the Orcs had spoken to the pink skinned creatures before speaking in what little broken common he’d picked up. “Where…?”
The Human nodded. “We found you when we were passing through here, patched you up and took you back to what’s left of one of your forward camps.”
Pausing a moment again, Adanado nodded in understanding before speaking again. “Where… Father?” The Human tilted his head again curiously before frowning and replying. “They didn’t tell me much more than your name.”
Sitting up slowly and wincing at the pain in his chest, Adanado reached for it and glanced down at the bloodied bandages now wrapped tight around his torso. That was when he noticed much of the area around him was charred and black. Frowning, he lay back down on the ground carefully and sighed. A long moment passing before the Human spoke up once again. “How are you feeling?” The Tauren nodded slowly, wincing in pain as he did so – it wasn’t so bad as before, at least.
Forcing a smile, the Human held his hand out to the Tauren as he attempted to make conversation. “The name’s Judas. Judas Ackerson. I’m a soldier here aiding Jaina Proudmoore. What do you do, Adanado?”
The Tauren strained to understand much of what the Human said, or the motion with his hand, he at least understood most of the question but wasn’t very sure of how to answer it – he didn’t know a word for Shaman. Pausing for a long moment to consider his answer before he finally spoke. “Listen… to gods?” He questioned his answer after he said it as he began to consider it more. Gods differed from race to race, but listening to the whispers of the Spirits was the best way he knew to explain his skill.
Blinking in surprise at the answer, there was a moment of silence before Judas smirked and crossed his arms. “Listen to the gods, huh? Like Diomedes?”
The response made Adanado stare at Judas confused, tilting his head as he tried to pronounce the word for himself. “Diomades?” The Human laughed and shook his head. “No, no. Diomedes. He was a man who was said to be advised by the gods themselves, and was as cunning as them.”
Adanado looked down thoughtfully, but his quiet contemplation was short lived as the guttural sound of an explosion sounded off distantly, a plume of green smoke appearing on the horizon. The sound of battle cries and fighting barely audible on the air once more. The Tauren looked back to Judas, who now stared off in the general direction of the fighting with a steely glare. Adanado broke the silence between them with a single word – one that he’d heard so many times before. “War?”
Judas looked back to the Tauren and blinked before nodding slowly. “It was meant to have ended a few hours ago kid. You missed the fireworks. Seems there’s still something out there wanting a fight.” Standing up, the Human turned and wandered over to a nearby shield and sword planted in the dirt. Gathering them up, he turned and began to walk off in the direction of the fighting.
Frowning, Adanado got to his hooves and clutched his stomach in pain as he shifted. Limping after the human despite his better judgement. Judas looked back at the Tauren as he walked and narrowed his eyes. “You should stay here Adanado. You’re not going to be talking to any gods with the state you’re in.”
Despite Judas’ words, Adanado continued to follow, trying his best to muster the focus to call some sort of healing from the spirits, if only to temporarily mange the pain in his chest. But the focus never came, and he simply grit his teeth – trying to focus more on the feeling of the dried, charred grass crunching under his hooves. Judas simply decided to ignore the stubborn bull.
Eventually the two entered a clearing – it was full of Night Elves, Humans, Orcs, Trolls, Tauren – all fighting against demons and infernals once more. Charred bodies lay everywhere, so burned that it was difficult to make out what they had once belonged to. Adanado felt his blood go cold. Just in the distance was the World Tree, the thing they had come to defend – now charred, its leaves gone, fire having burned it and – seemingly – much of the forest surrounding it away. It seemed only a few forces remained to continue fighting.
Blinking and glancing around as he realized that Judas had already run off to join the fighting, the Tauren frowned and squinted, trying to locate his father among the mass of warring peoples. Forging forward, trying to muster the focus once more to call upon some sort of energy to defend himself if at all necessary, he wandered behind the lines of soldiers as he tried to locate the elderly Tauren.
The sound of the fighting ringing in his ears, Adanado was not prepared for the Wrathguard that spotted him and proceeded to leap over the Horde forces and land just before the Tauren. Looking up in shock at the towering demon, Adanado scrambled backwards and stumbled onto his backside. Raising his arms up in front of him in a futile effort to protect himself. The demon let out a bellowing laugh, bringing back one of his large, pointed axes and prepared to jab at the cowering Tauren.
Adanado couldn’t hear the sound of hooves thundering towards him over the noise of his own heartbeat, but he heard the roar of the demon as it went to finish him off. Clenching his eyes shut tightly as he prepared himself for the killing blow – but it never came.
Opening his eyes and looking beyond his arms he saw his father before him, standing between him and the demon – arms out by his sides. Adanado blinked in shock before an ecstatic look crossed his features and he cried out in Taurahe. “Father!”
Rokoce looked back over his shoulder at his son, forcing a smile before he spoke in a hushed, pained voice. “Adanado… Run…”
Looking confused at his fathers words, Adanado’s expression quickly became horrified as blood trickled down from the corner of his fathers mouth and matted his silvery fur. The wet sound of metal leaving meat as the demon drew its blade back out of the Tauren and Rokoce slumped to his knees and fell to his chest. Tears welled up in the corners of Adanado’s eyes as he saw his father lying there before him, dead. His blood still dripping from the demons axe as it grinned and laughed sadistically.
The demon took a step toward Adanado, towering over the young Tauren who was still overcome with horror at the sight of his fathers death. Smirking as it raised its axe up over its head, the demon prepared to bring it down in a slicing motion at Adanado when a yell came from the crowd of fighters and Judas rushed from it. “Don’t be an idiot, kid! MOVE!”
The Demon glanced over at the next approaching defender when it felt furred hands laid upon its belly, glaring back down at Adanado as it remembered its more immediate prey. But whatever thoughts it had of killing the Tauren were quickly wiped away as Adanado glared up at the demon and there was a guttural ‘thump’ followed by the splatter of gore that sprayed out behind it - the demons midsection leaving the rest of its body – torn away by the sheer power of the earthshock that Adanado had mustered in his rage and pain. The demons torso fell forward and landed in the mud behind the Tauren – its lower extremities still held upright by Adanado’s shaking, blood-soaked hands as he still stared upwards at where the demons face used to be.
Judas stopped short a moment as the demon was blown apart, pausing for only a second before rushing to Adanado and grabbing the Tauren’s wrist, pulling him to his hooves and dragging him off the battlefield as he spoke. “That’s it. I’m getting you out of here.”
Several hours passed and the sun began to rise. The sound of fighting over Hyjal had dimmed as Adanado rested in the ruins of one of the Humans bunkers, wrapped in a fur that Judas managed so salvage on the way. Adanado still shook. He’d been told to rest, to get some sleep, but he couldn’t get the image out of his mind of his father – the feeling of the Demon’s torso exploding under his hands. He’d never been so close to death before.
Judas wandered into the bunker, tossing the Tauren a canteen. Adanado glanced up and managed to catch it after a little bit of juggling. Blinking at the Human curiously, Judas motioned out of the bunker. “We’re moving out. Get your stuff together. We’ll be passing through the Barrens so we’ll leave you close to home.”
Without waiting for a response, Judas turned and walked back out of the bunker, followed shortly by Adanado. Several carts awaited outside, pulled by numerous kinds of large animal. The nearest one – totally full of humans and pulled by horse – was where Judas sat, waiting for the Tauren. Adanado wandered to the vehicle and climbed onboard, sitting on the back end of it across from the Human, and the wagon began to move.
The trip was largely silent between the Human and Tauren as Judas watched Adanado warily, and the tauren simply stared at the ground as it moved beneath the wagon. The Human soldiers chattered amongst themselves and Adanado did his best to make note of what exactly they said, trying to decipher their words to understand more. After a time however, Judas spoke once more. “That was quite some ‘listening to the gods’ you did back there.” Adanado didn’t acknowledge him with a response.
Grunting, Judas brushed himself off before continuing. “I’m sorry about your father, kid. But people die in war. There’s nothing we can do to prevent it.”
Adanado spoke quietly in Taurahe. “Unless we gain the power necessary to stop it. I failed him and I have to find a way to live with myself now. I’ll get the power. And I’ll stop war from ever happening again. Whatever it takes.”
Judas raised an eyebrow and looked at Adanado suspiciously, the Tauren looked back up to the Human and spoke bluntly in common. “The name’s Diomades.”
THE PRESENT
Diomades eyes shot open and he sat up with a start. Panting as he awoke. A moment later he realized he was gripping his chest, drawing his hand away to find his chest wrapped tight with bandages. Glancing around himself, it didn’t take too much to identify where he was – Dalaran, in the Filthy Animal. Several other injured or wounded Horde soldiers lay in the hammocks around him, sleeping soundly, as a female Tauren tended to each of them. The sound of drinking patrons came from the floor below.
Swinging his legs off the hammock, Diomades planted his hooves on the floor and stood shakily. The Tauren nurse noticed that he was up and quickly rushed to him. “Sir! Sir, you really shouldn’t be moving. An old scar of yours had to be stitched shut again and there’s a chance the stitches will break if you move too much.”
Diomades snorted at the irony. “I’ve had worse.” It wasn’t until after he spoke that he noticed the pain in his voice and frowned. Reaching down into a crate that rested beside his bed, pulling on a pair of pants, strapping through a belt before pulling his tabard directly over his bandages. Picking up the crate, he turned to look at the nurse. “Do you know what happened out there?”
The other Tauren shook her head, glancing at the other soldiers in the room. “We’ve been getting so many injured and wounded. They send a lot back here to Dalaran to heal – afraid that the injured ones will be turned into Scourge more easily I guess. It’s nothing unusual. We just got so many at once this time.”
Nodding slowly, Diomades glanced at the other soldiers before sighing and walking past the other Tauren. “My guild needs me.”
As he wandered through Dalaran lugging the crate full of his gear he felt the glares of many Alliance eyes upon him. Times had changed and as bad as things used to be eight years ago, he knew it was preferable to the pain of having to see his fathers efforts be for naught. That even more people would have to die and to suffer for war. And yet, he had gotten no closer to finding a way to stop war and had to make do protecting the innocent from a fate such as that he had befallen eight years ago.
Wandering past the fountain, Diomades paused just short of the bank. Placing the crate full of his gear upon the ground, he rummaged through it until he found his coin purse. Reaching in and pulling out a gold coin along with a dagger kept with his gear. He began to scratch away at the coin, gold filings falling to the cobblestones before holding the coin up to the light. Satisfied, he turned and tossed it into the fountain before picking up his crate full of gear.
The gold coin sunk to the bottom of the fountain, the engraved message clear upon its surface through the calm water.
“Why did he have to die for me?”
Diomades paused briefly and shook his head. Never looking back to the fountain as he continued on.
It had become obvious to him now that in order to stop war, the ones fighting it had to die.