Errands: Lost Wilds/Hollow Man Excerpt

[Niethan]

"Of course, sir, but... perhaps you should take some time off? Likely Miss Vilmah is alright and just away on an errand..."

"I will ask the Mag'har."

Errands. When Vilmah made errands she left her hearthstone on, and she usually only turned it off if she was sleeping or with Nojinbu. She did not vanish for days with no note stuck to the fridge.

I left Sigrun's cubs with the nervous clerk and his charge, and waited only long enough to collect my bag of drugs from my quarters. Painkillers and tranquilizers, mostly. A few narcotics, for flavor. My original stock had mysteriously gone missing after Vilmah insisted we both take a nap, and I may be a heavy sleeper but I can put two and two together.

I doubt I'll need the tranqs for a little while, but the painkillers may serve. I'm still too shock-silent to need calming, but the morphine will keep the shakes out, and if Vilmah is in need of either I will have them.

The world got smaller with hearthstones and windriders and a few tricks of my own, and Nagrand was not far. The brown orcs here recognise me; I've done work for them, and I'm not exactly a face-in-the-crowd person. Today I can feel stares on my back, likely because of the black paint covering my skin and hair all down the right half of me. Maybe I should be flinching and running, but I can't bring myself to care. Not when I can see Haala so close.

I watch the tiny clouds of smoke from it as I move through the Mag'har village. I wonder if I'll be spending a lot of time there, or if I'll never touch that ground again. I suppose it doesn't matter.

"You. Have you seen Vilmah Bloodborne?"

[Vilmah]

The Mag'har turned to Niethan, his eyes roving over the paint that covered half of him. The strange troll was not a stranger, here. "Galra's granddaughter? Yes."

He pointed up towards a small and well-kept hut, where colorful rugs could be seen stacked outside. Inside, a rather tall and dark orcess with long white hair trapsed back and forth. She looked nervous. The mail shouted towards her.

"Galra!"

The orcess' ears perked, and she walked outside. Upon seeing the male with Niethan, Galra's eyebrows furrowed in curiosity. "Yes, what is it?"

"This troll," he replied. "He is looking for your granddaughter."

Galra studied Niethan. She recognized his tabard, but not his face. Vilmah had been gone for several days now, and although she had only just met her granddaughter, she was sure that the youth would return as soon as she'd found the Lost Wilds. If she was alive. Galra's face faltered, as she looked at Niethan. "..I see."

[Niethan]

Niethan made note of the downcast eyes and change in inflection. "Where is she, if you know. Or where was she going."

[Vilmah]

"I am not certain I can give you that information, young troll," Galra replied quietly, looking away. "The fact is that she has gone in search of family, and I doubt you would want to be where she has gone."

[Niethan]

So, she'd sent Vilmah somewhere. That much was obvious. As well as the fact it was likely dangerous there. I felt my unpainted lips curl in a snarl. The rest of my face felt stiff and wooden. And she had the gall to look away from me. What sharp teeth you have, grandmother. The better for gnawing on the bones of your children?

"The family of hers I know are dead, so unless you've sent her to Samedi directly, you've given her directions to somewhere she may find Death anyway. You will tell me where you directed her, or I will leave you to your guilt. Either way I will find her, but knowing where might mean I can preside over her wedding instead of her funeral."

[Vilmah]

"You have such little faith in my granddaughter," Galra said, a taken back by the words of this barbaric whelp. "She is stronger than you think. I should hope that one of her men would know better than to imagine that she can not handle herself against the Gol'tor."

The Mag'har folded her arms, looking over Niethan.

"You resemble the one she is going to take as her mate. I have never seen your kind with scales, before.." She looked over his paint. "Either way, this is her homeland. Vilmah will survive, but if you interfere you will only bring her shame in the eys of the Lost Wilds. Is that what you want? To have them reject her? They are all she has left of her mother's family. I do so wish I had the opportunity to meet them, myself."

Galra frowned, shaking her head.

"Old prejeduces can not be taken back, I suppose. They would kill you on sight, troll."

[Niethan]

"You are the one who was pacing with fretting hands. And as you say there is something to interfere with, I assume she is likely needing to prove herself to these... Gol'tar? Either way you imply they are dangerous. I will not stand between her and her family, but I swore to stand between her and death."

His eyes narrowed slightly, turning his thoughts inward. "I will not lose both my queens."

[Vilmah]

Galra looked confused. Queens?

"I worry for my granddaughter, but I have faith that she will survive. She is one of them by blood, it is in her right. I only wonder how far they will make her go, but.."

She paused in thought.

"..if it is dire, she is in Terrokkar. I do not know exactly where. I only ask that you not interfere unless it is absolutely needed. I should not let you know, but.. I have weakened with age. I would rather see her alive and disgraced than dead and accepted."

[Niethan]

Niethan waited a moment to see if there was more, and when nothing else was forthcoming he bowed to the elder. "I will see what she is up to, then."

He turned and left Garadar, taking a rider back out to the shaded canopy of Terokkar. This, at least, was semi-familiar ground. The haunted woods had reminded him of his home since he had first found them. But, like his homeland, the forest was large, and Vilmah could be anywhere. He had no clues as to where, or what these 'Gol'tor' were. He had no worg to track for him, nor did he have Sigrun's sensitive ears to guide him.

He leaned against a tree a moment in thought, then rifled n his rider's saddlebags for his helm. It was a wolf's head, blind but brushed and fierce in form. He fit it snugly over his face, then gave the rider a sharp slap on the flank to send it away. When the birdsong started up again Niethan dropped to all fours, taking a deep breath and sinking into Moment.

If you didn't have a beast, what else was there but to make one of yourself?

[Vilmah]

The Gol'tor were a secretive people. Leaving a trace of their existence could be punished by a massive flailing, not to mention the thought of strangers from beyond the gate entering their home. They covered their tracks by walking travelling through the trees, and wore animal skins to disguise their scent. They moved their camps once every two days, in case someone should find their trail.

Vilmah was with them. She rested from her recent trial, sleeping shackled and nearly nude beside a large bonfire. Edmund whimpered. Hallua smirked.

[Niethan]

The woods were full of animal-smells, leaf-smells and rot-smells, earth-smells and air-smells. Moment loped through the trees, uncomfortable in the basic modesty leathers he wore but not truly knowing how to remove them. He'd found no trace of two-legged or packmates, so he stopped to settle near a stream and drink.

It has been said that fortune favors drunks, small children, and animals. As an animal, luck smiled upon Moment and sent a slim shivver of a breeze to his nose, laden with the sharp tang of terocone, the musty smell of old spiderwebbing, and the familiar puppy-smell of Edmund.

Moment sprang up, sniffing at the scent. Yes, Edmund. He turned in a slow circle, tail flicking impatiently as he oriented himself towards the source. A pleased rumbling growl grew into a monstrous baying as he caught the tracks, and charged into the hunt.

[Vilmah]

Edmund lay on the ground, his head on his paws, bound by dozens of leather straps that had been staked into the ground and wrapped around trees. The wolf whimpered as his mommy lay far away. He could smell blood on her, he knew that she was hurt. He wanted to help her, but the orcs who smelled like other animals would not let him. They fed him scraps and gazed in wonder when they passed him. Some of the children came to look, then ran away. He did not like it here. He missed his mommy, he missed the other pets.

"Mommy!" He barked. "Can we go home now? Can we go hooome?"

One of the Gol'tor shouted something towards the others, and a group of them fell upon Edmund. He trtied to fight them off, but with his limbs bound, it was impossible. He whimpered as they muzzled him.

[Niethan]

Moment sped up when he heard the barks, scrambling up a tree and clinging to the thick limbs as he approached. He heard voices, and stopped.

Peering down from the branches, he saw what looked like a nomadic setup of tiny tents. He curled his lips at the small people walking around in skins, then scanned the area for what he was looking for. There was Edmund, so Vilmah must be...

Blood. He smelled blood.

He smelled her blood.

Moment let go of the branch, crashing to the ground in a spray of leaves and a low rumbling growl.

[Vilmah]

"Kill it! Quick!"

They didn't spare a second to surround Moment, many holding spears, other simply crouched in a low position, ready to spring. Edmund recognized the scent, and he wagged his tail with joy. This was mommy's friend! Maybe miss Sigrun was here, too! This was great!

Vilmah awoke to the sounds of commotion. Hallua was in the midst of it, a pair of daggars in her hands as she joined the surrounding Gol'tor who were slowly closing in on Moment. They were lined up according to rank and skill; those holding spears wre on the outside. Knives, the middle. The closest to Moment, those that would do the most damage the quickest, were completely unarmed. Their forearms and fists were heavilly scarred and callused, as were their feet. They looked strangely proportioned, compared to most orcs.

She tried to move, but Vilmah was still tied down. She cursed as one of the bindings bit accross her wounde wrist. "What's going on??" The ventured to ask.

[Niethan]

too many armed too many too fast run run run

Moment had always been, oddly enough, the most efficient of the three original personas of Niethan, not for his skill but for knowing when to get the hell out. It was difficult to supress the instinctual desire to flee, but Niethan managed to at least hold Moment down long enough to rear back on his hind legs and force a sound that might possibly have been words;

"Villmahh. Wwwhere?"

[Vilmah]

Hallua knew the name. She stepped forward, daggars reflecting off of the bonfire at the center of their makeshift settlement. "She is none of your concern, creature. You have invaded our home, you know of our kind."

A few of the unarmed orcs stepped forward. Simultaniously, they stomped on the ground beneath them. A loud grumble through the earth could be heard, and shards of stone that resembled totems sprung forth from the ground like roots. Everything touching the ground began to feel heavier, weighted down.

"Now," Hallua added. "You will die."

[Niethan]

Pushing down Moment got easier once you'd started, though the knive getting closer was making it difficult.

"I smell her blood, she is my concern. Who or where you are is not. I come to see her my queen, not you."

[Vilmah]

Hallua raised a hand, smirking to the other Gol'tor. "Gij'us," she said.

The others laughed, and those holding spears left the circle.

"Of course," Hallua said calmly, raising one daggar-weilding hand towards some of the unarmed. "I understand, now. However, you must realize that this is not a place for you. I applaud your tracking skills, you would make a fine Blood Tracker... but you do your queen a disservice by being here. She has come of her own accord, to be accepted amongst us. We are her family."

There was a pause, and a few of the female unarmed orcs exchanged snorts of laughter.

"..although I suppose, that means that you are soon family also. To a certain extent."

[Niethan]

Niethan flicked an ear in momentary confusion. What did she mean, family? Odd. Gij'us must be a term for 'vassal' or 'relative' or something.

"Concern is no disservice. She has been missing for days with no word of where, and no contact from her." He forced himself to rise a bit from the pull of gravity, settling into a more comfortable position than on his belly.

"I was warned she was looking for family, and not to interfere. If she is here of her will, I will not. But I would see that she is okay, if I must track her across the world."

[Vilmah]

"She will live," Hallua assured him. "She was injured hunting worgs, but has not otherwised been harmed."

She decided to leave out the whipping. In all fairness, this creature deserved no less than Vilmah's punishment. Perhaps more, simply because he was not even an orc. Hallua let it slide. He seemed more trouble than he was worth.

"Your fal'nae can not see you, now," Hallua continued. "She was more trials to overcome. If she succeeds, she will be ours. You, and her worg, as well. Until then..."

There was a brief skirmish as the unarmed orcs stomped the ground once again. Roots burst forth, reaching for Niethan's limbs, attempting to grab every part of him.

[Niethan]

Niethan stayed still as the vines entangled him, recognising the binding as not malicious in nature. Instead he flicked his tail languidly, watching the vines and feeling shock settle back on his shoulders now with Moment sleeping. A stray beam of sunlight started to warm the plating on his naked back.

"I understand... so long as she is okay, I will be calm."

[Vilmah]

Hallua nodded to Niethan, and made several hand gestures to the unarmed orcs. They exchanged glances and stood from their crouched positions, moving instead towards Niethan.

"You will come with us," one of them said calmly.

They walked towards where Edmund was being kept. As they did, the roots followed, still binding Niethan's limbs, snaking through his body as they rose and lowered from the ground. One of the males chuckled.

"This seems a lot of trouble, for some greenskin whelp.."

He was quickly jabbed in the ribs by another. "Trouble or not, that is Hallua's blood. We will do as she says."

They stopped arguing. Edmund wagged his tail at Niethan, whimpering hopefully. "Frrrrnd!"