Kazthul
04-30-2006, 12:49 PM
It had been nearly two months now since Kazthul had first set foot in Ogrimmar and yet he was still unaccustomed to such a place. Not a day passed in which something new presented itself and curiousity got the best of him. He would lose track of whatever task was at hand and spend hours watching the blacksmiths or engineers dabble in their trades or sit on the rooftops and watch the bustle of the many people below. His home was small and uncomplicated, and within the walls of the capitial, he would often find himself turned around and lost in the vastness of the city and its splendor.
--
He had come from a small island far away from these lands. An uncomplicated life. He and his brother Zangrul had spent their days fishing or tending to the land. His mother would create simple meals with their catch and they would gather round the table and talk about their simple lives. Each day mostly the same, fish, check the herds, repair the fences. His brother would spend much of his day with his wolves out in the brush looking for snakes or other wildlife to bring to the table. Sometimes Kaz would hide out in the trees in wait of his brother, hoping to startle him, but his brother would always be the one to do the startling.
In the evenings, Kaz and his family would join the others from the village in festivities. They would dance and sing songs and occasionally talk of matters of importance, but it was usually talk from Uncle Lorzum about where to move the livestock or where the fish was good. When Kaz's father had passed Lorzum had become the chief and while he had not been quite as wise as his father had been, he was fair and aspired to be like his father. Lorzum had taken it upon himself to teach Kaz about the shamanistic ways, training him to be the next chief should he pass, but Kaz was still young and much the free spirit and would often skirt his training to have fun with Zangrul. On many occasions Lorzum would be the one to find him squating beneath the brush waiting for his brother and then Kaz would spend much of the next few weeks fixing all the fences or patching up the leatherwork of the whole clan.
When winds changed however the playing came to end. The work began to pile up and clan was overwhelmed with the repairs and maintaing their food supply. The birds left and the fish began to stay away from the coast which mean the fisherman would have to take to their boats, but the winds and the sea would toss them about and they'd often come back empty handed. The livestock began to dwindle and the clan was fighting amongst itself. The winds grew stronger day by day and Kazthul found himself beside Lorzum learning all he could about the shaman and hoping there was something that could be done.
Around this time the shadowman appeared. He was noticed among the day, a black shadow far off in the distance, walking upon the water towards their island. Many of the villagers gathered to watch the figure in the distance. The winds became more furious as the day progressed as if each step the shadowman took increased the fury of the elements. A black scar of wind erupted in the middle of the village and the villagers began speaking of doom and how the shadow had come for them. The dark figure continued his pace towards the island aimed for the now growing vortex of wind that had formed.
The children cried on their mothers arms as the shadow set foot upon the sandy beach that lined their home. Fear grew among the strongest men, a fear so powerful that none moved to block the shadow from his path as he contiuned towards the blackness that violently reached for him, until the darkness and the shadow merged in a brief instant. Violent tendrils of the wind whipped out and shattered huts and knocked grown men flying into others, various appendages were shown no mercy to this violent abomination that hovered before them. Finally a voice spoke out loud and non-sensical, booming... A second voice met the first and the wind battered at each word as if the voices themselves struggled to destroy the other. The voices faded and the black scar disappeared and there before them, was the shadowman, standing where it had once been.
The shadow opened his mouth and noise rattled from its mouth, though no one knew of what he spoke, or if he merely cried out. The shadow paused and glanced among the villagers, he stepped forward towards Kazthul and rested his hand upon his shoulder. Fear beat in the heart of the young orc as this creature touched his skin, he felt something cold where his hand touched, piercing through him and racing through his body. The shadow procured a small box from within the shadow. Various metal round notched circles began swirling and spining and moving in maners that Kazthul had never seen. He was mesmerized by this thing before him. The complexity of it reached within his mind and captured his every though. What is this thing the shadow offered him. Kazthul pushed his hand up towards the box cautiously and as his fingers unravelled towards it, the shadow pulled his hand back and the box began to hum.
Suddenly words rang out in his head, as the shadow spoke in his garbled tongue. You do not understand the words that I speak. But you will understand the words in your own head. Kazthul's eyes widened as the words made sense to him.
--
It had been many months since these events had occured. The arrival of the shadowman had changed much in the village. Many of the villagers had wished to leave and follow the shadowman to the world he had spoken of. To see the giant cities and vast stretches of land. Far too long had they lived confined to the islands here. When he left, many tried to follow, but it is difficult to follow something that walks upon water and harness the powers of a dark wind. Many boats we're blown back upon the sandy beaches. In the end, the shadow had chosen to take whom he could. Kazthul and his curiosity had intrigued the shadow and the brother Zangrul had never truly fit in in the village. He had always been alone, to himself with the wolves, so when the shadow offered to bring Kaz to the world he knew, his brother refused to be left behind.
Kaz gazed out upon the city. The hustle and bustle still amazed him. It was far from the life he had once lead. A shopkeep muttered something to him he didn't quite understand, such was often the case in these new lands. Unable to speak with those around him, he struggled to make way in society, the shadowman had tought him enough to string the most basic and simplistic of sentances together, but he knew he often seemed like a complete fool to everyone. He sighed as he though of this, the shadowman to whom he could speak to perfectly throught he use of the box had all but vanished and his brother had disappeared the first day they arrived. With a heavy heart, Kazthul pushed his memories behind him and headed back towards the room that the shadowman had left him. Stacks of books lined the walls, the shadow had left them for him as well, somewhere in those pages, Kazthul would find his way.
((Didn't really like my first draft, so I played with the second half a bit, though it is still just a freewrite.))[/i]
--
He had come from a small island far away from these lands. An uncomplicated life. He and his brother Zangrul had spent their days fishing or tending to the land. His mother would create simple meals with their catch and they would gather round the table and talk about their simple lives. Each day mostly the same, fish, check the herds, repair the fences. His brother would spend much of his day with his wolves out in the brush looking for snakes or other wildlife to bring to the table. Sometimes Kaz would hide out in the trees in wait of his brother, hoping to startle him, but his brother would always be the one to do the startling.
In the evenings, Kaz and his family would join the others from the village in festivities. They would dance and sing songs and occasionally talk of matters of importance, but it was usually talk from Uncle Lorzum about where to move the livestock or where the fish was good. When Kaz's father had passed Lorzum had become the chief and while he had not been quite as wise as his father had been, he was fair and aspired to be like his father. Lorzum had taken it upon himself to teach Kaz about the shamanistic ways, training him to be the next chief should he pass, but Kaz was still young and much the free spirit and would often skirt his training to have fun with Zangrul. On many occasions Lorzum would be the one to find him squating beneath the brush waiting for his brother and then Kaz would spend much of the next few weeks fixing all the fences or patching up the leatherwork of the whole clan.
When winds changed however the playing came to end. The work began to pile up and clan was overwhelmed with the repairs and maintaing their food supply. The birds left and the fish began to stay away from the coast which mean the fisherman would have to take to their boats, but the winds and the sea would toss them about and they'd often come back empty handed. The livestock began to dwindle and the clan was fighting amongst itself. The winds grew stronger day by day and Kazthul found himself beside Lorzum learning all he could about the shaman and hoping there was something that could be done.
Around this time the shadowman appeared. He was noticed among the day, a black shadow far off in the distance, walking upon the water towards their island. Many of the villagers gathered to watch the figure in the distance. The winds became more furious as the day progressed as if each step the shadowman took increased the fury of the elements. A black scar of wind erupted in the middle of the village and the villagers began speaking of doom and how the shadow had come for them. The dark figure continued his pace towards the island aimed for the now growing vortex of wind that had formed.
The children cried on their mothers arms as the shadow set foot upon the sandy beach that lined their home. Fear grew among the strongest men, a fear so powerful that none moved to block the shadow from his path as he contiuned towards the blackness that violently reached for him, until the darkness and the shadow merged in a brief instant. Violent tendrils of the wind whipped out and shattered huts and knocked grown men flying into others, various appendages were shown no mercy to this violent abomination that hovered before them. Finally a voice spoke out loud and non-sensical, booming... A second voice met the first and the wind battered at each word as if the voices themselves struggled to destroy the other. The voices faded and the black scar disappeared and there before them, was the shadowman, standing where it had once been.
The shadow opened his mouth and noise rattled from its mouth, though no one knew of what he spoke, or if he merely cried out. The shadow paused and glanced among the villagers, he stepped forward towards Kazthul and rested his hand upon his shoulder. Fear beat in the heart of the young orc as this creature touched his skin, he felt something cold where his hand touched, piercing through him and racing through his body. The shadow procured a small box from within the shadow. Various metal round notched circles began swirling and spining and moving in maners that Kazthul had never seen. He was mesmerized by this thing before him. The complexity of it reached within his mind and captured his every though. What is this thing the shadow offered him. Kazthul pushed his hand up towards the box cautiously and as his fingers unravelled towards it, the shadow pulled his hand back and the box began to hum.
Suddenly words rang out in his head, as the shadow spoke in his garbled tongue. You do not understand the words that I speak. But you will understand the words in your own head. Kazthul's eyes widened as the words made sense to him.
--
It had been many months since these events had occured. The arrival of the shadowman had changed much in the village. Many of the villagers had wished to leave and follow the shadowman to the world he had spoken of. To see the giant cities and vast stretches of land. Far too long had they lived confined to the islands here. When he left, many tried to follow, but it is difficult to follow something that walks upon water and harness the powers of a dark wind. Many boats we're blown back upon the sandy beaches. In the end, the shadow had chosen to take whom he could. Kazthul and his curiosity had intrigued the shadow and the brother Zangrul had never truly fit in in the village. He had always been alone, to himself with the wolves, so when the shadow offered to bring Kaz to the world he knew, his brother refused to be left behind.
Kaz gazed out upon the city. The hustle and bustle still amazed him. It was far from the life he had once lead. A shopkeep muttered something to him he didn't quite understand, such was often the case in these new lands. Unable to speak with those around him, he struggled to make way in society, the shadowman had tought him enough to string the most basic and simplistic of sentances together, but he knew he often seemed like a complete fool to everyone. He sighed as he though of this, the shadowman to whom he could speak to perfectly throught he use of the box had all but vanished and his brother had disappeared the first day they arrived. With a heavy heart, Kazthul pushed his memories behind him and headed back towards the room that the shadowman had left him. Stacks of books lined the walls, the shadow had left them for him as well, somewhere in those pages, Kazthul would find his way.
((Didn't really like my first draft, so I played with the second half a bit, though it is still just a freewrite.))[/i]