Dreams of the Past.

[Zasein]

((Here is a bit of insight into Zasien's character. And note, I did not choose a wolf to be the form of his spirit because wolf is a shaman's travel form. I chose it because I thought it was a good animal representation for his character.))

Zasien rolled over in his bed at the Rest Inn Peace, the dagger in the sleeve of his shirt chafed him uncomfortably. He pulled his hand out of the sheets wrapping around him, and adjusted its sheath. He closed his eyes in the glare of the moonlight coming though the window, and before he knew it, he was asleep. He felt himself draw into a dream much like another he'd had recently. He could feel his spirit and the elements around him this time, though.

He stood atop a tall spire, overlooking a land devided into four eqaul parts, an ocean, a sea of magma, a sandy rocky desert, and a place of mist so thick that he could not see the ground. All four intersected at the base of the spire. He noticed the wolf beside him, his very spirit, standing, waiting. "I've brought you here to show you yourself. I've brought you here to show you the journey you have taken. And who you are now." The wolf said, an eathreal voice sounding not unlike his own eminating from it.

Zasien looked at the wolf curiously. Why did he need to be shown his path, why did he need to be shown who he was? He was a shaman. He would not linger on the past, only learn from it. The wolf answered his unspoken question. "But you have failed to listen to it." It walked to the long, winding, path down the spire. "Come." It said, motioning with his head.

He followed the wolf, and they closed the distance remarkibly quickly. "This path is long, and difficult, but there is only one way to tread. It is far different from the path through life. It leads to yourself, no matter wich way you go, down or up." The wolf said as they reached the bottom. They passed into a tunnel through the spot where the four elements met. As they stepped into it, Zasien noticed swirling colors on the walls.

At first playful green and purple hues surrounded them as they descended along the spiraling tunnel. Zasien knew what they were without even having to ask. They were his emotions when he was a child. He was happy then, living on an island with his tribe, peacefully, comfortably, in awe of the wisdom of his elders. They turned to the red of anger, and still the purple of awe remained. Anger at the humans and Murlocks that attacked his home. Awe at the orcs and their strange powers, and their leader, Thrall, who summoned lightening on will that the shamans of his tribe could barily control.

Then they shifted to a peaceful green-blue, the time when they had finally made a home on the Sen'jin islands. A time when he was content. They shifted again, to the red of hate, and to the black of pain. That was when his parents had died. He hated the humans for what they had taken from him. "Emotions are a great part of who we are, and tempered by reason, they can truely save us." The wolf said.

The rest of the cave passed by quickly, in a flurry of color, emotions lost. "But these are just feelings, not the reasons behind him."

The path leveled out, and they left the cave, and walked into a grassy field full of life. Above them were the elements, water, fire, earth, and air, deviding the sky. Zasien knew that it was his first memory that lay ahead.

((Meh, I'll continue this thing tommorow morning. Its getting late.))

[Zasein]

His first memory was darkened and blurred. He saw himself as a young troll, playing in the sand. The memory faded, and the wolf continued to lead him down the path. He saw his childhood, growing up on the Broken Islands, foraging for food when he was older. Praying to Shirvallah, the Tiger Loa of the warriors, with his parents. "You didn't use sacrifices. Niethan is right, most of the rituals are a celebration of life, not an act of death. The Loa are not the cause of suffering, but the people that excuse it with them are. And the strange part is, she thinks what she is doing is right." The wolf said. He knew that it was refering to Khiskiva when it said she.

They continued onward, to when the orcs had come, and when battles flared up. The fights against the Merlocks and Humans. He'd fought then. Everyone old or young enough to hold a weapon was needed. He'd killed then. It had been tramatic then. Now he was used to it. He hardly needed to think to fight. The spirits aided him on a whim. If he was threatened, or if his friends were threatened, or if the horde itself was threatened. He stood there, ready, dangerous, deadly, and cold.

The trip to Kalimdor was rough, but for some strange reason the hardy orcs faired better than the trolls, despite their regenration. The troll priests called on the power of the Loa to protect them all. The orc Shamans called upon the spirits and the elements. They were all struck by a storm, smashed into the rocky shoals of Kalimdor. The remains of their fleet soon banded together under the guidance of Thrall. A good part of the Darkspeare tribe broke away, mostly young and old. The greatest warriors and priests of his tribe went with Thrall, as he helped the Tauren and went to the prophet on Stonetalon Mountain. His parents were called on to protect the part of the tribe that sought out a home on the islands they had avoided earlier.

They traveled to the islands and named them after their fallen leader, Sen'jin. Food was plentiful. The rare Hydra and Murgills were easily delt with. Life was not unlike what it was on the Broken Isles, but this time without the Humans. Their tribe thrived, learning from the orcs, seperating themselves from the viciousness of the old ways and the other Jungle trolls. They still worshipped the Loa, the still did religious acts of Cannibalism, but they avoided war, and they had peace. This was another time when Zasien was happy.

As the path continued, many branched off to the side, and each branched apart, leading to infinate numbers. "There are many paths through life, and this is the one you had chosen. Some things were forced upon you, but you chose how to react to them."

Then the Kul-Tiras attacked. He and his parents were living on one of the outlaying islands. They and the other families with them were hit first in a rain of fire and lead. His parents sent him away in a reed boat, just before a shell exploded overhead, littering their bodies with shrapnel, ending their lives. He ran out of fear, moving the boat as fast as he could. He was saved by one of the bat riders with Rexxar, and evacuated with the rest of the tribe. He'd been very frighened then. Now he could look death in the eye without fear. Maybe it was the knowlege that his ancestors, his parents, could bring him back if it was needed. Maybe it was the fact that he knew that another journey lay beyond death.

He'd suffered then. "But just because you cannot have life without suffering doesn't mean it isn't worth living."

He'd joined the other warriors, to strike at Thermore Isle. They left, following the standard that Rexxar bore into battle. He fought alongside a troll shaman, one that had chosen to follow the orcish ways, rather than the anchient tradition's of their tribe. He distianed the shaman at first, but then he saw that this shaman was just as powerful as their mistics. "The Loa may have strength, but our tribe does not need them to be strong. Your child will not need them to be strong. You should not deny that they have power. But many tribes do still cling to shadows of the past."

He'd slaughtered humans, giving into his lust for blood. The shaman died in the battle while he chased down retreating troops, leaving his unit. "You cannot let vengance guide your actions. That is why you shouldn't have attacked Okhu, and that is why you should not kill Sulajin, even though through his actions he hurts those you care for. You should not murder, but you should stand between him and Niethan, Vilmah, and Khiskiva."

[Vilmah]

((Good job! I liked this a lot. ^^))

[Sulajin]

((Damn tank. Stop interfering!))

[Zasein]

((Thanks Vil. And Sulajin, I'd like to interfere with everything, so try to do your crazy things on the forum or while I'm online plzkthx :D))

His memories continued by him. His desire to become a shaman, in a way to replace the one that had died. Maybe if he hadn't have left his unit, the shaman would still be alive. "You cannot change your choice, once you have taken it. You will never know where the others may have lead. There is no right path to take, but only a few will lead to joy."

He found an orc who would teach him. An old shaman by the name of Merad. Merad showed him that he had a gift. A gift of reaching out and feeling spirits, spirits of the elements, spirits of his ancestors, and spirits of the spirit realm. It was during this time that he met a young orc. She was kind, funny, playful, and attractive. They'd spent a lot of time together. He could feel the power of a shaman within her. But when he told her about it, she said that she couldn't become a Shaman, and showed him her trainee's robes of a warlock. She said she had just started her training yesterday.

He didn't resent her for her choice, it was her choice to make. A another month passed, and they grew closer to each other. One night he'd taken her to get a drink. It was then that a Burning Blade Insignia dropped out of the pocket in her robes. She begged him not to tell anyone. He told her that he would take her to see Merad tomorrow morning, that the old orc would know what to do. He put the insignia on a chain around his neck. When he lay in bed on the second floor of the inn, she had slipped in beside him, naked. She'd begun taking his clothes off. He could feel the warmth of her form beside him, he couldn't think.

She kissed him, and he'd kissed back. She seduced him, and he'd given into his feelings, acutely aware of how much he wanted her. She'd slid her hands up to his neck, and gripped at the chain holding the insignia. He knew what she really wanted then, and pushed her away. She fled, the room was too dark to see where she went. He heard the sound of a door opening and closing, and hurriedly got his clothes back on. He opened his window, and saw her receding form, clothed in the garb of a warlock, fleeing toward the drag. He knew he should have gone after her, but he was too stunned to think.

"You loved her, and she twisted your feelings. She wanted power, nothing more. And she thought she could get it by joining them. And you were a victim. So you hid from your feelings, you ignored them. You were afraid of them. Afraid of them judging your actions. Emotions are part of who we are, and you couldn't ignore them for very long. Eventually, they escaped, and you didn't know how to control them. And now they have returned, and you don't understand them."

The next few years of his life were full of training, battles fought and won. Victories of the past seemed trivial and meaningless now. Animals that he had struggled to fight that he could now kill without breaking a sweat. There was his time in the Frostwolf Brotherhood, the House of Kai, the enemies he had faced, the allies he had made. And above all, the friendships he found. "You need to spend more time with them, more time being happy. If you don't take time to live life, it isn't worth living."

He'd completed his training, risen in rank with the horde. He began to notice the occasional flirting with him from troll women, which he brushed aside. Then there was Khiskiva. She'd taken him to bed, and he'd let himself be taken. She had said, "I'm yours if you want me." and he had wanted her.

"You couldn't control your newly aroused feelings. You let them control you."

When he found out that she was with child, he'd thought that he couldn't be a father. He'd been afraid. He'd been weak. "You scorned a life, knowing full well that it was as much your responsibility as hers." Now he knew that he would try to raise the child with her as best he could.

He knew he cared for her, he worried for her safety and well being, considering that she spent her time with a fire-crazed mage at the moment. "She may be very different from you, but you still like her." This time, he was a bit lost as to what those words meant. He thought he didn't love her. Maybe he was wrong. It didn't really matter, she loved Sulajin.

The House of Kai had joined into Tower Arcanus, mostly because of the shared goals of the eventual destruction of the burning legion and the hope for peace on Azeroth. He'd agreed, mostly out of their desire to find a cure for undeath, and partially because of his feelings for another shaman that was among their ranks, a troll by the name of Jezaya. When he told her how he felt, some time later, she told him that she didn't feel the same way for him.

"You still stand under their banner, even though you know that Immortality should not be considered. A true cure for undeath would be something that would allow them to escape their condition and embrace a peaceful rest. Death is part of life, and without it, any balance would be upset."

They reached the end of the path, the moment that was the present. The future was obscured in mist, unclear and unfathomable. "Remember what I told you." The wolf said. And then the dream faded.

He woke up in his bed, the sun starting to peak over the horizon. His eyes teared from dryness. He got up and strapped on his armor, wiping his eyes clear. He hefted his hammer, and sighed when he saw rats had eaten the food in his pack. He ignored his hunger, and left the inn, ready to face another day. Except now he had more lessons gleaned from his past. More wisdom to draw on. He would try to see happiness in his situation, no matter what came his way.