An unwanted Letter. ((New poster! Open to suggestions))

[Sorchea]

--Text from a letter sent to General Delivery, Crossroads outpost, The Barrens.--


To my Karnia,

Ya liddle brat, dis is yer mother. I havent gotten any letters from ya in weeks. I sent ya to da valley of trials for training, and I hear from Inka that youve done nothin but drink da money I gave ya at da pubs in Orgrimmar! It took me a month of working to afford da travel costs to get ya down dere! "I want to be a shaman mamma!" My Blue Ass you do!
If I knew who ya fatha was ya can bet I'd have him drag ya home by ya ear! And what is this business I hear about a boyfriend? An unead Zombie boyfriend!? I pray ta da Gods dis isnt true! Do ya want ta shame da whole village! He used ta be some famous human? I don't care!
I expect a direct reply from ya young one. I will not have one of me daughters running amok and bringing dishonor ta me name. What would ya sista say? Ya wouldnt want me ta hunt her down and find out her opinion I wager.
Just because ya reached ya blossoming age don't mean I can't beat ya, dere will be no more drunken table dancing, what ya think ya are, one a dem mutant Night Elfs?
Let yer mother know wats goin on, da womens circle worries about ya, and I need ta know at least one of ma girls is on da right path.

Luv,
Garla'jin

[Vilmah]

My Blue Ass you do!
If I knew who ya fatha was ya can bet I'd have him drag ya home by ya ear!

((Best. Mom. EVER.))

[Laron]

(Greetings)

[Sorchea]

((Thank you Vilmah :) I love your stories. Hello Laron!))


The early morning sun shone brightly down on the seaside town of Ratchet. It shone on the rooftops, and on the dock. It shone straight into one of the top floor windows of the inn and down onto the sleeping face of a young Troll girl. She did not appreciate its cheerful rays, and pulling the blanket higher up over her head, snuggled deeper into the pillow. She was smiling and drifting off again when the innkeepers assistant, a smelly little goblin by the name of Tumek, burst into the room bearing a pitcher of washwater.

"Its 8am! Time to wake up! You know the rules! Turnout is at 9am unless you pay the 15 silver for another day. Do you want to stay another day!?"

He held his hand out towards the bed. Wiggling his filthy little fingers in anticipation.

"No." She mumbled. "I'll be leaving this morning. Just set the water down please."

Tumek pulled his hand back reluctantly and put the pitcher on a small crate by the bed.

"Well, you have one hour, then you have to pay again. Time is m-"

"Yeah, time is money friend, I get it. Now shoo."

He backed out of the room, giving her the stink eye as he left. After he had gone Karnia rolled over and swung her feet off the bed. The wood was warm and felt good against her bare feet. She yawned largely and padded over to the washbasin. It felt so good to be on her own, to wake up when she wanted to ...sort of. And to know she had the whole day to do with as she pleased.

She caught sight of herself in the small mirror and laughed. Her hair was a wild mass of blue atop her head. She went to her pack and took out two brushes. A large one for her hair and a much smaller one for her tusks. She was quite sure her breath smelled like kodo ass. After she had washed and put her hair up in its usual style atop her head, she carefully repacked her gear and headed downstairs. After a quick thank you and goodbye to the innkeeper she was walking west to The Crossroads.

Everything was still pretty quiet this time of the morning. Upon entering the outpost she went straight to the large round building. The outpost Inn. Where she was immediately greeted by a darkly greenskinned, black haired orc.

"Good Morning Karnia! You are as bright as the sunshine. Have you come with more medicine for these idiots?"

"Yeah, good morning to you to Gorthak. A trolls got to make some silver somehow. Oceanview rooms don't come cheap, and bar wench isnt my idea of a good time." She replied.

Karnia made the rounds around the large room, nudging the sleeping patrons with her foot. "Wake up you loafs, Healing potions 1 silver! Great for those hangovers! Takes the headaches away! Only 1 silver. Cmon, I only have a few left now!"

After she had sold most of the potions in her bag, she made her way back to Gorthak. She slapped down 10 copper and took an apple from the basket on the bar.

"Another profitable morning." She said, taking a large bite. "At this rate I should be able to afford this seasons lessons by next week."

Gorthak laughed. "Your probably right kid, theres no shortage of drunks to be had here at The Crossroads."

As if to illustrate his point, a large Tauren with matted black fur began to loudly retch inside his sleeping cubby. Karnia ran over to him yelling. "No, you big dolt, drink the red one! The red one!" She pulled and yanked on his huge furry arm till she had more or less rolled him onto his side. She picked up the half spilled blue potion and took a fresh red one from her bag.

Gorthak chuckled to himself and reached behind the bar. He grabbed a jar of cider and tossed it to her as she was walking back. "Here kid, on the house, for helping me out this morning. Ive never seen these smelly shits get up so fast."

"Don't get used to it Gorthak. I'm probably heading back to Silverpine this afternoon."

Gorthak raised an eyebrow. "That forsaken youve been pallin around with?"

Karnia gave the orc a poke on the arm. "Yes, as if its any of your business. The sun of the barrens is to much for him right now, he wanted to head back to The Sepulcher where its cooler. I'll be meeting him in The Undercity around supper time if the bats are running on time."

Gorthak gave her a return poke to the arm. "Just as long as you know..." He lowered his voice to a stage whisper. "They say he's insane!"

Karnia sighed. "The change was hard on him, it was hard on all of them, you can't blame him for a little odd behavior!"

Gorthak snickered. "Who did he say he used to be again?"

Karnia glared at him. "I don't have any more time to talk about this. I have a long walk today. I should be back in a week or so."

Gorthak began pulling trays and fruit from behind the counter. Already the potions were working and several orcs were coming to settle on the benches by the bar. A cluster of Tauren women had also come in the front door. The in made a very delicious Raptor-egg omelet.

"Don't go away angry Karnia, I could care less what you do, but your a sweet girl, you need to be careful." He reached back under the bar and came up with an envelope of rough linen paper. "Here, you got a letter. Maybe its some good news to wipe that sour look off your pretty face."

"A letter?" She took the proffered envelope. "Alright you, I'm off. Thanks for the cider." She turned for the door. "Safe Travels kid." Gorthak called, then turned back to his cooking.

She walked out the front door into the bright mid-morning sunshine. Lifting a hand to shield her eyes she studied the writing. Her face fell.

"Oh Bloody Murloc Balls!" A small orc girl who was walking by dropped the basket she was carrying and clapped her hands over her mouth. Her eyes wide with shock. Karnia glanced down. "Oh shove off! Be lucky it wasnt addressed to you." She grabbed the small green girls basket, pushed it into her hands and gave her a little shove down the street. Only then did she turn her attention back to the letter. Only one person had this barely legible lunatic scrawl. Her Mother.

She looked around to make sure noone was watching, then used the sharp end on one tusk to tear a corner of the paper. Then carefully removed the single handwritten sheet.

The little orc child would have been slightly scarred for several weeks to hear the curses that came from the cute little teenage troll on the corner.

"That Rotten Harpy!! SHE saved money for my trip!! And Inka That lying wretch!! How would she know what ive been doing, She spends all her time blindfolded getting high in the valleys of spirits!!" Karnia stamped around in a circle. "How dare she! How DARE she! GGGRRRR! And contacting my sister, she would never! She's terrified of her, the whole damn village is terrified of her! I can't believe this!"

And with a violent tug of her backpack, Karnia headed north. She had a zepplin to catch.

[Sorchea]

The zeppelin sailed across the Great Sea. It sailed northeast from Durotar, far enough to give the dark uncharted waters near the maelstrom a wide berth. Tonight the air was clear, and the ocean seemed calm.

Karnia sat in a chair on the back balcony and stared out at the water passing far below. Her mood had not improved over the course of the day. She was so upset about the letter, about how her mother made her seem so ungrateful, so horrible. Like her mother had fought so hard for her to stay and she had left anyway. It wasn’t like that!

Garla had even been pushing her to leave, had talked about the area becoming to dangerous. The Elders had spoken nightly in the main tents. There were mercenaries flying in daily to head deeper into Desolace. She had heard whispers, of some sort of portals being seen in the hills, and demons.

She was not ashamed to admit she had been afraid. When her mother suggested she go to Durotar and try to improve her minor healing skills into something more substantial, she had jumped at the chance. But she had thought her mother understood that her main purpose in leaving had not to become a famous shaman, but more to leave the monotony of their small fishing village. And her mother HAD given her some money. But the old women had been in the village for too long. She made her money dancing for the travelers around the nightly fire. She lived on tips alone. She had no idea what a room in an Inn near the city would cost. But Karnia did. She had done her research.

She had talked to the Horde soldiers and mercenaries. She had found out the price of certain things. Weapon Trainers, Armor, food and supplies. Karnia was amazed, she could never even dream of having the amounts of gold these wanderers threw around every day. And she would definitely not make it with the few silver pieces her mother had managed to scrape together.

So for weeks Karnia worked. She fished all morning and in the afternoon she would come back and sell sandwiches to the Horde warriors coming back from various quests. She would also hear horrible stories from them. They all seemed to confirm the rumors of the Demons, and spoke of even more terrible things deep inside one of the local Centaur temples. It only firmed her resolve that she needed to far away from here. The bigger cities would surely be better protected. Demons would never come to an area with so many Trolls and Orcs around.

Karnia shook her head and stood up. She needed to stretch her legs. She took one last look back over the water and tuned for the stairs. The upper deck was mostly empty. The only other passengers were a few Undead huddled together near the front. One of them glanced over her shoulder at the young Troll and hissed. Karnia shrugged, she wasn’t really in the mood for talking anyway. She walked over to the opposite railing. Seeing them had reminded her of the first time she had taken this voyage two weeks ago. She had just completed the first phase of her training at The Valley of Trials. One of the others in her class had told her that if she wanted some weapon training, go to The Undercity and see the Master there. She had taken down the directions from him and made the long walk the next day…


She remembered how gloomy the country had seemed. The very air smelled thick with decay. The landing platform of the Zeppelin tower was rickety. Karnia had to watch her step to avoid broken boards or rusty nails. The pads of her feet were very thick, but she didn’t want to take any chances. She walked down and around the long wooden spiral staircase and through the door at the bottom.

A low fog seemed to hang over everything. She was just stepping out onto the path when a scream cut through the air. “AAAaaaiii! Die! Die! Die!” Karnia screamed and jumped back into the doorway as an armor clad Undead man went running past the Zeppelin tower and threw himself on a small Bluish dog that had been wandering by. The dog turned to defend itself but was hardly able to do more than growl a warning before the side of its neck was opened cleanly by the madman’s axe. Karnia watched with stunned horror as the Undead shoved his hands inside the wound and began tearing the creature apart. Blood was flying everywhere and soon the ground was covered in a slick red carpet.

“Don’t look so afraid, he does this all the time.”

Karnia turned to see an Undead woman leaning against the side of the building with her arms crossed. She had on a brown dress and her dark hair was wild and unkempt.

“You-you…you’re a Forsaken?” Karnia stuttered

“Whatever would give you that idea?” The woman asked. “The grayish skin tone? How about the exposed spinal column?”

Karnia blushed, her cheeks turning an even deeper shade of blue.

“I’m sorry; I’m not from around here. I didn’t mean to offend you. My names Karnia, I’m training in Durotar to become a Shaman.”

“Don’t worry, if ignorance is the worst thing that happens to me today, I’ll count myself lucky. I’m Mortai. I used to be a…I mean…I’m still a priestess I suppose. The guy over there molesting the wildlife is Kurt.” Mortai motioned down the hillside.

“Is he dangerous?” Karnia asked.

“That would depend on your definition of the word.” Mortai unfolded her arms. Loud cracks and pops of joints accompanied her movements. “He’s helped me out a lot these past few days, what with all the risers coming up from around Brill. Not everyone’s got their act all there if you know what I mean. Some of them are mindless, and very violent. They need to be put down. Kurt saved my ass more than a few times.”
“Risers?” Karnia asked.

“Um, yeah, the Living Dead? Hello?” She wiggled her bony fingers for emphasis. “Not everyone’s coming up as fresh as myself and Kurt here.” She jerked her head backwards to indicate the man who now seemed to have his entire head stuffed into the chest cavity of the dead dog. “The Lich Kings hold is very strong, those with weak minds or bodies can’t break away and continue to be re-animated in his service.”

“You mean like Zombies?!”

Mortai gave her a look that was not entirely friendly. “Yes, like zombies.” She held her hands out in front of her and took several shuffling steps forward. “Braaaiiins…..uuuunngg……Brains.”

Karnia gave a little yelp and took a few quick steps backwards. She tripped over a stone, and fell down, landing on her butt. Mortai threw back her head and cackled loudly.

“How do you not know this stuff? Have you been living in a cave? What are you doing here anyway?” She advanced on the blue haired girl.

“I was heading to The Undercity. A friend of mine told me they have a weapon trainer.” She felt the back of her throat start to tighten, and took a few deep breathes. She really didn’t want to cry. Karnia sat up and looked at the woman. “I know you’re probably busy…but could you take me inside? I don’t know where to go.” Shamed, she stared at the ground and waited for a reply.

Silently Mortai smoothed the front of her dress and thought it over, she smiled. “Yeah, sure. Go and round up Kurt if you can.”

“Okay.” Karnia said. Glad to have someone to help her, even if that someone was a little creepy and didn’t seem to like her, made Karnia feel more secure. She made her way over to the male Forsaken carefully. She didn’t want to startle him; he still had a rather sharp looking axe clutched in one hand.

“Sir? Umm, hello?” She nudged him with her toe. At her touch the Undead jumped up. He still had the dead Darkhound on his head and it flopped around wildly sending blood and bits of flesh flinging in all directions. “AAAAaaiii! Die! Who Dares Touch Kurt Russul!?” He spun around in a circle a few times, thoroughly covering Karnia and himself in ichor before realizing he couldn’t see. He lifted the corpse up over his eyes slightly and peered at his attacker. Karnia was standing about two feet away. Blood and thicker chunks of things were in her hair and on her vest. She lifted one hand and wiped the blood from her face, trying not to retch. “Hi Kurt, I’m Karnia. Mortai wanted me to come and get you, she’s right over there.” Karnia pointed back the way she had come. “She said we-“

“Where?” Asked Kurt.
She looked back over her shoulder. Mortai was gone. Karnia started to turn back when Kurt took off running down the hill.

“Aaaaaaiiii! Die! Fear Kurt Russul! AAAAaaaiiii!” He screamed as he ran towards another darkhound. His previous kill flopping on his head as he ran.

Karnia broke, she ran after him down the hill. “Wait! Please wait!” She yelled. He stopped mid-charge and turned to look at her. She caught up with him and clutched her stomach to catch her breath. “Please wait. I don’t know where to go.” The tears were welling up in her eyes and she fought to control them. She looked at Kurt. Only then did she notice his eyes. They were blue! A blue like the waters from home, Cerulean blue. She didn’t know eyes came in that color. They were the most beautiful thing she had ever seen.

Kurt had heard the panic in the young Trolls voice. That was why he had stopped. Now he could see by the slack jawed way she was staring at him that she had lost her mind. Kurt Russul could understand. He had seen a lot of people fall victim to that lately. He decided he should take her to town and try to get some food into her. He took her by the arm and started to walk down the hill to The Undercity. He patted her gently on the shoulder and asked. “Do you like my hat?”


Karnia giggled and pushed away from the railing. Those days following their meeting were the most fun she could ever remember. Running all around The Undercity. Running wild in the hills behind Brill. They had even hid behind trees and watched Alliance troops going in and out of The Scarlet Monastery. How dare her mother try and judge them. To judge her.

Karnia rummaged around in her pack till she found the letter and a small bottle of ink. She turned it over and began to write on the other side.

Dear Mother,
Mind your own business. I am in love with Kurt Russul. I plan to move to The Undercity and have lots of undead troll zombie babies out of wedlock. I’m going to quit school and get a job stripping on top of the mailbox. I don’t need or want your advice. Go ahead and try to find my sister, I don’t think you have the guts.

You’re Daughter,
Karnia
P.S. He beats me.



Satisfied, Karnia sealed the letter inside a piece of leather and wrote the address on the other side. She would throw it in the mailbox as soon as she got to The Undercity.

[EnheilRas]

((Your troll wouldn't happen to have Green eyes? Because last time Kurt Russul went underground with a woman with green eyes, there was all sorts of big trouble))

[Nazshakul]

((

/grin

/say "Peasant magic..."

"And very good Sorchea. :) "

))

[Sorchea]

((EnheilRas-Big trouble in little China? No, she has reddish brown eyes :)

Nazshakul- Thank you :D Glad to see anyone interested. I'm also trying to tie in some in-game RP))


It was a typical lazy morning in the seaside town of Shadowprey Village. The sun had risen bright and clear, it turned the waves lapping at the beach a brilliant cobalt blue.

Shadowprey was mainly a fishing village, but more travelers came through these days thanks in part to the decision by the Elders to bring in a Windrider station. But it was still business as usual for the lifelong residents. Already plenty of activity could be seen. There were nets to be mended and Lobster traps to be reeled in. The smell of roasting fish and imported Stranglethorn coffee wafted on the early morning breeze. A few small blue haired Troll children were playing in the ashes of last nights fire.

A lanky young Troll with a giant green mohawk walked out from one of the huts closest to the beach. He ambled along the beach and up one of the trails to the village proper. The main area of the village was set on top of a small rise and surrounded on two sides by sharply rising hills. The majority of dwellings lined these, hills and was the common multi-story wooden spiral homes favored by The Darkspear Tribe. They were of an airy design with an open lower story with the top being enclosed by bamboo walls and a thatched roof.

The main kitchen hut was off to the left; The Troll walked inside and grabbed a wooden tray from a stack by the door. He loaded it with smoked fish, some toasted bread, and a mug of coffee. He bowed to the cook and carefully made his way back across the camp, around the central fire pit, and up the front steps of a brightly painted hut. He disappeared inside.

Garla’jin Shadowscar sat cross-legged with her back to the door in the small room at the top of her hut. Her once bright hair had faded to a steel grey. She was adjusting one of her many small braid in a small mirror when she saw the youngling coming in behind her.

“Kovar! Ya lazy bum! I bin up fer an hour now.” She said, setting her last braid.

“Ima Sorry Garla’jin, I had ta wait in da line.”

Garla turned around with a growl. “Ya did not, I could see ya from da winda dere! Ya liar! Now git out of ma sight before I decide ta drink ma coffee from ya skull!” She turned around, dismissing him.

Kovar bowed, set down the tray, and backed out of the room. He shut the door and walked back down the spiral staircase grumbling to himself.

Garla’jin waited till she could no longer hear the fool’s mutterings on her stairwell before she turned to her breakfast. She picked up a piece of toast and arranged a few pieces of the smoked fish and some onions on the top, took a big bite and closed her eyes. Delicious. She washed it down with a few sips of coffee. But she found herself growing annoyed. The only reason they could enjoy breakfast peacefully inside their own homes was because of the sacrifices of her family! She did not appreciate the attitudes among the Younglings lately. They led a carefree existence; they didn’t remember well enough the terror of their youths, the constant threat of attack. She made a mental not to bring this up to Zharg at the next council fire. None of them should ever be allowed to forget. She would remind them.

Garla’jin finished the rest of her toast and stood up. She brushed what little crumbs remained off her skirt and taking her coffee mug, headed outside. There was the usual motley crew of Horde fighters sleeping in the sand around the embers of last night’s fire. She frowned. What would they have done had there been an attack? Nothing, except die uselessly, giving the tribe new armor taken from their corpses. Garla’jin balled her hands into fists, her small claws digging into her hands. She knew better than to think like that. There had been no attacks for years, other than the occasional Alliance hero trying to make a name for themselves. The Centaur did not come here. The truce still held. Her eldest daughter had seen to that, and with it, insuring the safety of the Village. She forced herself to relax, to uncurl her fingers. She took a few deep breaths and another sip of her coffee. There was no need to think of these things now.

Some commotion down the hill drew Garla’s attention. A few members of the tribe were hurriedly grabbing coin purses and running towards the village entrance. This usually meant one thing, the Goblin merchants had stopped by. Garla’jin walked back inside the hut, grabbed her change purse from the hook by the door and went to join the others. She was hoping they would have some bells or trinkets to add to one of her dancing costumes. Before she got more than a few yards down the road though, an Orc woman walking back handed something to her. “Here Miss Garla, something come in da mail for you.” She looked down to see a crudely wrapped leather package.

A few minutes later Garla’jin was storming through the center of town. Her thoughts of shopping forgotten. She marched right towards the largest dwelling. The home of their Clan Chief Zharg. Two guards in light leather armor holding bone spears stood guarding the front door. They exchanged nervous glances as she approached. After a brief scuffle, the one on the left was shoved forward.

“Garla’jin…please sista..” He began nervously. “”We need to announce ya.” He held out his hands beseechingly. The other guard ran inside.

Garla’jin paced outside the door. She could feel the muscles in the back of her neck and along her temples tightening. The urge to scream was growing. She wanted to take these two arrogant whelplings who had never seen a war, and bang their heads together.

After some minutes passed, the guard returned and motioned Garla’jin to follow him. He led her through the entrance hall she had seen many times before and into the large central meeting room. The Chieftain of Shadowprey Village sat in a large wooden chair against the far wall. He was an old Troll and his hair had also gone to grey. It hung in two large braids down his back. His large tusks were pitted and worn. He wore a plain tunic and a baggy pair of silk pants. The scars of his many battles marched up and down his arms to disappear under the clothes. He barely looked up when Garla’jin entered the room. Instead his attention was focused on a cage that set upon a metal stand next to his chair. Inside the cage was a pink haired Gnome girl in a dirty yellow dress. She would hold her pudgy hands out to Zharg, and he in turn would hand her a tiny piece of cooked meat from a bowl by his feet. He acknowledged Garla’jin’s presence with a slight incline of his head.

“Good morning sista. I take it ya did not come ere in such a tempa ta tell me about the wares the goblins carry?” He asked.

Garla’jin made a slight bow, the most her mood would allow.

“No, I come ta request soldiers.” She said.

He glanced at her. The little gnome pawed at his arm and he nonchalantly slapped her hand away.

“And what would ya be needin these soldiers for ma dear?”

Her patience had worn thin; she marched up to Zharg’s chair and threw the letter in his lap.

“I don need yer questions. I need dem to bring ma baby home ta me.” She looked away.

He picked up the letter shook it out. Only because of his age was he able to bite back the grunts of laughter that welled up inside. The youngest Shadowprey was finally coming into her own. She had gotten a taste of freedom and it had gone to her head. Zharg did not blame her. But he could tell with a look at Garla’jin from the corner of his eye, she did not share this opinion.

He raised his head back up. “Garla, while I do see dis is very disrespectful. I don tink we need ta send anyone ta drag her home.”

Garla’jin gaped at him. “Wat! Are ya mad! She is a prisoner! Ma daughter would nevah talk ta me dis way!.”

Zharg sighed. He did not want to be a part of this conversation

“Garla, dear, ya know she would not ta yer face. She has come of age, she needs time ta herself. She-“

“How dare ya! Jus stop, I don want ta ere any more! Ya don want ta help me. I’ll find someone who will. I’ll take da little brat up on dat dare.”

Zharg narrowed his eyes. “What are ya going on about?”

Garla’jin stood up straight; she looked Zharg in the eye. “I will call on ma own family. I’ma sure dere are some who don want ta see dere baby sista taken by da undead.”

Zharg stood up. “Be careful wit what you say, I don like jokes.”

“I’m not joking, I will not be ignored. I will not have another daughter corrupted. I want her back in da Village. Wat was done in da past was done for us all. You shou-“

“I know full well wat was done!” He interrupted. They were both shouting now. The gnome prisoner cowered in her cage. “Ya remind us every day. But at wat cost? She is tainted Garla’jin!” This was an old argument, one that neither side could ever win.

“Dere is no proof, don you dare speak ill of her! She saved us! You don know fer sure!”

“The Demons nevah come here Garla’jin! Why is dat!?” Zharg screamed. “I have da reports, dey attack every other settlement, nevah here. Wat other proof do yo…” He stopped. Garla’s wide eyes and trembling jaw told him he had gone too far. He took a few steps towards her. “Garla’jin…ya know dat da name Shadowscar will always be an honored name in dis village. But I cannot allow da risk. Your eldest cannot come back ere, I will not welcome her to da fire.” He turned away, dismissing her.

Garla’jin took a deep breath and let it out. She bowed, then turned and left the hut.

After she had gone Zharg sat staring at the place where she had stood. He felt drained and a little melancholy, as he always did when he was confronted by Garla’jin about the past. She would never let things lay, never move forward. She refused to believe in things which were largely accepted as fact by everyone else.

A small whimper brought his attention back around. The pink haired girl was huddled in the corner of her cage, dried tears stained her face. Zharg picked up the bowl of food. He opened the cage and placed it inside. He didn’t even feel like playing with the small pink creature anymore. The fall harvest festival was weeks away, he had plenty of time to amuse himself before she was to be roasted. He would come back after he had done some fishing, which always helped his nerves.

[Morsh]

(( Wow, this is some good stuff! :D ))

[Sorchea]

Meanwhile…

Far away from all these things and ancient drama was about to be played out. In the center of a bleak dry field in southern Silithus a raptor was prowling for food. The only sounds were the constant buzzing of the insect hives. Head bobbing; it walked along scenting the air for any of the sweet smells that would signal the presence of a rotting carcass. It appeared to be an older female, about 8 feet tall. She had obviously been here in the wastes for quite awhile. Her reddish scales had a dull sand-blasted look, and her head darted back and forth ever vigilant for the large flying insects of the region.

The raptor made her way along the edges of the field. So far there had been nothing that looked like easy prey. There was a small ridge ahead. The lizard altered her course towards it, there could usually be a groundhog or other small animal to be found hiding among the rocks.

But there was also something else hunting among the rocks. Two glowing green eyes had been tracking the raptors movements for several minutes now. A massive Frostsaber lay crouched behind a boulder, its tail twitching back and forth in anticipation. It watched the lizard draw closer and closer. The feline drew down, tensing back legs, digging its razor-sharp claws into the rocky dirt, preparing to strike.

With a snarl it launched itself over the rock and onto the unsuspecting raptor. With a stunned grunt the great lizard was knocked to the ground. The sounds of vicious growling and high pitched screeches echoed across the plain.

The raptor tried desperately to regain its footing with the 400 pound cat latched to its side. It clawed it the feline’s underbelly hoping to shift its position. The saber easily dodged the smaller front arms. The raptor heaved itself backwards frantically. Hoping to outweigh its aggressor, it used its powerful tail for leverage and rolled the pair over, pinning the smaller saber under her large back claws. The cat yowled and scratched at the toes of the raptor, opening a gash along one instep. The raptor screeched in anger and with a glowering look at the large cat, began bouncing up and down upon its body. This caused the cat to grunt in pain as the air was forced from its lungs. The saber wiggled and twisted around crazily to get free as the lizard started to bob its head down, snapping its jaws around the cats face, trying to find a good angle to get the cats head into its mouth.

She was striking and getting nothing but mouthfuls of thick fur, she arched her neck sideways, trying to get a better shot at the sabers neck. The large cat tried to push with its back legs and rear up but the raptor gave it a swift downward headbut. The cat gave a stunned yelp and lashed out with one immense paw across the top of the Raptors head.

A thunderous gunshot ripped through the air above their heads. The two animals froze. They turned their heads to see a Troll woman standing on the rocks above them. The sun was behind her, causing her red hair to light up as if halo of fire was around her head. She held an oversize shotgun, its barrel pointed now at the sky. Karnya Shadowscar did not look amused.

“You keep playing like that, someone’s gonna lose an eye.”

The two large animals untangled themselves and looked around sheepishly.

“Luxa, you know better. Molli come here.”

The Raptor came walking slowly up the path between the rocks, limping slightly. When she reached the top she inclined her head into Karnya’s outstretched hands. She gave the big lizard a few gentle smacks before pulling its head closer to inspect the damaged scales around her face. She pulled out some of the ruined ones around Molli’s eyes. Karnya reached into her pack and pulled out a small bottle of oil and two pieces of rag. She used one to wipe blood from the scratches, then poured oil on the other and used it to seal the wounds. The raptor gave little deep throated chirps. Rubdowns always made Molli happy.

Karnya put the bottles away and attached Molli’s saddle leads. She walked back down the ridge to where Luxa was shading herself under a rock overhang. She was trying really hard not to be noticed.

“She’s limping now, and we need to go to town. So you get to carry the rucksacks.”

The massive cat looked up, incredulous. But one glance at Karnya’s raised eyebrow put a stop to any argument. The trio made their way over the rocks and across another field; soon they came to their hidden encampment for these many past months. After Karnya had loaded everything to her satisfaction they started their journey north. Karnya leading her mount by its leash.

The Hunter tried to make as few trips to Cenarion Hold as possible, she didn’t like the possibility they could be followed back. Other than her monthly trips to the front lines to help on the Battlefields, she spent most of her time here researching the giant gate that had been opened and trying to keep the spread of bugs in check.

They were a few miles into their journey when Karnya noticed black smoke coming from a nearby hive mound. She set Molli’s lead on the ground. Making a small signal to Luxa the pair inched forward. As they got closer she could smell the acrid smoke and hear a slight whimpering sound. When they get to the mound they stand with their backs pressed against it and Karnya peers around…and lets out a mighty laugh.

On the ground not far away lays a broken mechastrider, smoke billowing from its ruined engine compartment. Trapped underneath the mechostrider lies a gnome, bleeding into the sand. It seems one of the sandworms must have charged him and knocked the small machine over. He notices Karnya and cries out pitifully.

Karnya lets out a whistle, getting the attention of the nearby raptor.

“Well girls, looks like breakfast is from the gods this morning, make it fast…”

[Mortica]

((nice!))