12-04-2010, 08:07 PM
Chapter One - Old Habits
Spoiler:
There WILL be some language. Viewer discretion is advised.
I am somewhere in the Barrens, and I am out of my fucking mind. My sister Shivala, who is very dear to me, has quite recently informed me that her innocence had been taken by a Troll. Some sort of slave catcher, or something. It doesn't matter, I am going to kill it. Kill it and dump it somewhere putrid for it to rot in the muck. The look on her face when she said this... Anyways, I went back to Stranglethorn and did my best to retrace her steps. It took a combination of educated guesses, my former training, and what she told me to finally come upon a deserted campsite. The fire was barely put out and the imprint of a bedroll was still fresh in the dirt. It turns out that it had packed and gone to the Bay very recently, by what the tracks told me.
However, this Troll was more cunning than I anticipated. He spotted me and immediately identified me by my resemblance to my sister and, admittedly, I was staring at him with daggers emanating from my eyes. He had many friends, oh so many friends, and their professions got him safely spirited away on a boat. My own job was very difficult, now. Goblins are very secretive when one gives them money for silence. It took quite a bit of my own coin to figure out that the troll was bound for The Barrens. No doubt he wished to lose himself within Horde territory, somewhere I could never enter. And indeed, I shouldn't be here. I'll be dead within the next three or four days, most likely, unless I can get back into the shelter of Ratchet. Not likely.
Right foot, left foot. Slide left, jump forward. Circle once. The Troll certainly knew how do disorient his tracks. Double back, swing around. They were everywhere. Then they ended. However, Safksha Shadowedge could certainly guess what had happened. Kodo prints from there on went in a definite direction: forward. The troll had hitched a ride, and apparently thought that the animal tracks were enough to overlook. Close, but no cigar, buddy. Safksha smiled in triumph and began to follow. Some time later he came upon a cave. The kodo prints went onward, but then a separate pair of tracks detached themselves from the line and went into a cave. The troll must've separated from his rescuer, thinking that it was far enough away to no longer have worry. Smiling at his good fortune, he stepped into the cave.
First impression? It was dark. Dark and drippy. Blip! Blip! Blip! There was no noise. No heavy troll breath, no crackling fire, just: Blip! Blip! Blip! And yet Safksha knew it was here, lurking. He could smell it, mostly. It smelt as most Trolls do, like shit. The stench surrounded him, wafting up his nostrils and making him grimace. Blip! Blip! Blip! That god damned dripping. Why couldn't the Troll be more conspicuous?! This was getting tires-WHAM! Safksha flew backwards, clutching his face. A very large branch hat hit him in the face and it was now bleeding profusely. It's a miracle he didn't lose consciousness. There was the Troll, gloating in its surprise victory. The gloat was short lived, however, as he very quickly was back up on his feet. He drew his blades, fire in his eyes, and diced the log up into little bits.
Typically, the Troll started begging.
"Mon! Ah din't meene tah dyoo eet! Please, dohn't!"
But Safksha Shadowedge just smiled.
"Sorry. Old Habits."
Now i'm drowning myself in booze in some backwater tavern in Ratchet. Can you really blame me? I haven't killed anyone in a while, and the light going from a creature's eyes is not something you get used to, even if it's a creature you despise above all other beings. I only wish I hadn't taken my time with it. Perhaps just beheading it would've made things better, satisfied my bloodlust. But no, I had to cut it the f**k up and then throw the pieces to the lions. It makes me sick because, above all things, I enjoyed it. I ENJOYED killing it. If Eva were there, she'd have ran from me and never spoken to me again. I-
"Turn around."
A chill ran down Safksha's spine. He knew that voice, and that voice meant 'Not good.'
"-Turn around.-"
He turned. Oh yeah, it was him. Urelle. He made a snarling face.
"I thought you were too racial to put a toe out of Ashenvale, old man."
His dearest Grandfather furrowed his brows and looked just about ready to pull his ears all the way back to Darnassus. And he made a move as if to, but restrained himself, merely saying:
"I came to get you and Shivala. This is but a brief foray."
"Oh, 'a brief foray' he says." He now actually snarls. "You seem to be under the impression that I actually WANT to go back with you. Did it not sink into your thick skulls that I hate all of you?"
"Irrelevant."
He was now on his feet, his voice rising. "NOT irrelevant! YOU made Shivala like this, YOU made her a self destructive rage spiral! YOU did it!" With each you, he made an accusing jab of his finger.
"I loved her, and you -will not- speak to your elders such."
"Yeah, well, your love made her almost kill herself. You can get stuffed."
He looked down, going back to scratching down his experiences and life stories and shit, but the irritable old man would not be ignored. Yes, he was now being dragged via ears by surprisingly strong hands, Urelle ranting all the way.
"We wanted you to be a druid. We wanted you to do your race proud! But no, you had to be selfish. You had to run away!"
He managed to get away from the grip, rolling back up onto his feet and kicking at Urelle's chest. But he had forgotten one thing: He was up against an extremely powerful druid that could beat him with a finger. Urelle simply swat his leg away with his staff and, now that Safksha was off balance, fired a blast of nature energy into his chest, sending him to the ground. That sure was effortless, and thus Safksha felt very angry and very pathetic. Roots sprang up and bound him in place.
"Contrary to what you may think, I do care for the both of you. But you test my patience. Will you come back with me or not? I will even teach you the ways of the druid. I will teach you the wonders of nature. I will teach you to be a proud Kal'dorei."
Safksha sighed.
"You're not giving me much choice. Oh well, let's get this over with."
I'm on my way to Teldrassil, the Great Tree. The Old Man is pretty adamant on this. I might even be able to let go of my past misdeeds with all this druidism crap. Or i'll end up dead from trying. Oh well, it's best not to tamper with fate's loom. I'm on my way to my destiny, or my doom.
However, this Troll was more cunning than I anticipated. He spotted me and immediately identified me by my resemblance to my sister and, admittedly, I was staring at him with daggers emanating from my eyes. He had many friends, oh so many friends, and their professions got him safely spirited away on a boat. My own job was very difficult, now. Goblins are very secretive when one gives them money for silence. It took quite a bit of my own coin to figure out that the troll was bound for The Barrens. No doubt he wished to lose himself within Horde territory, somewhere I could never enter. And indeed, I shouldn't be here. I'll be dead within the next three or four days, most likely, unless I can get back into the shelter of Ratchet. Not likely.
Right foot, left foot. Slide left, jump forward. Circle once. The Troll certainly knew how do disorient his tracks. Double back, swing around. They were everywhere. Then they ended. However, Safksha Shadowedge could certainly guess what had happened. Kodo prints from there on went in a definite direction: forward. The troll had hitched a ride, and apparently thought that the animal tracks were enough to overlook. Close, but no cigar, buddy. Safksha smiled in triumph and began to follow. Some time later he came upon a cave. The kodo prints went onward, but then a separate pair of tracks detached themselves from the line and went into a cave. The troll must've separated from his rescuer, thinking that it was far enough away to no longer have worry. Smiling at his good fortune, he stepped into the cave.
First impression? It was dark. Dark and drippy. Blip! Blip! Blip! There was no noise. No heavy troll breath, no crackling fire, just: Blip! Blip! Blip! And yet Safksha knew it was here, lurking. He could smell it, mostly. It smelt as most Trolls do, like shit. The stench surrounded him, wafting up his nostrils and making him grimace. Blip! Blip! Blip! That god damned dripping. Why couldn't the Troll be more conspicuous?! This was getting tires-WHAM! Safksha flew backwards, clutching his face. A very large branch hat hit him in the face and it was now bleeding profusely. It's a miracle he didn't lose consciousness. There was the Troll, gloating in its surprise victory. The gloat was short lived, however, as he very quickly was back up on his feet. He drew his blades, fire in his eyes, and diced the log up into little bits.
Typically, the Troll started begging.
"Mon! Ah din't meene tah dyoo eet! Please, dohn't!"
But Safksha Shadowedge just smiled.
"Sorry. Old Habits."
Now i'm drowning myself in booze in some backwater tavern in Ratchet. Can you really blame me? I haven't killed anyone in a while, and the light going from a creature's eyes is not something you get used to, even if it's a creature you despise above all other beings. I only wish I hadn't taken my time with it. Perhaps just beheading it would've made things better, satisfied my bloodlust. But no, I had to cut it the f**k up and then throw the pieces to the lions. It makes me sick because, above all things, I enjoyed it. I ENJOYED killing it. If Eva were there, she'd have ran from me and never spoken to me again. I-
"Turn around."
A chill ran down Safksha's spine. He knew that voice, and that voice meant 'Not good.'
"-Turn around.-"
He turned. Oh yeah, it was him. Urelle. He made a snarling face.
"I thought you were too racial to put a toe out of Ashenvale, old man."
His dearest Grandfather furrowed his brows and looked just about ready to pull his ears all the way back to Darnassus. And he made a move as if to, but restrained himself, merely saying:
"I came to get you and Shivala. This is but a brief foray."
"Oh, 'a brief foray' he says." He now actually snarls. "You seem to be under the impression that I actually WANT to go back with you. Did it not sink into your thick skulls that I hate all of you?"
"Irrelevant."
He was now on his feet, his voice rising. "NOT irrelevant! YOU made Shivala like this, YOU made her a self destructive rage spiral! YOU did it!" With each you, he made an accusing jab of his finger.
"I loved her, and you -will not- speak to your elders such."
"Yeah, well, your love made her almost kill herself. You can get stuffed."
He looked down, going back to scratching down his experiences and life stories and shit, but the irritable old man would not be ignored. Yes, he was now being dragged via ears by surprisingly strong hands, Urelle ranting all the way.
"We wanted you to be a druid. We wanted you to do your race proud! But no, you had to be selfish. You had to run away!"
He managed to get away from the grip, rolling back up onto his feet and kicking at Urelle's chest. But he had forgotten one thing: He was up against an extremely powerful druid that could beat him with a finger. Urelle simply swat his leg away with his staff and, now that Safksha was off balance, fired a blast of nature energy into his chest, sending him to the ground. That sure was effortless, and thus Safksha felt very angry and very pathetic. Roots sprang up and bound him in place.
"Contrary to what you may think, I do care for the both of you. But you test my patience. Will you come back with me or not? I will even teach you the ways of the druid. I will teach you the wonders of nature. I will teach you to be a proud Kal'dorei."
Safksha sighed.
"You're not giving me much choice. Oh well, let's get this over with."
I'm on my way to Teldrassil, the Great Tree. The Old Man is pretty adamant on this. I might even be able to let go of my past misdeeds with all this druidism crap. Or i'll end up dead from trying. Oh well, it's best not to tamper with fate's loom. I'm on my way to my destiny, or my doom.