Conquest of the Horde

Full Version: Buhayos' Leave
You're currently viewing a stripped down version of our content. View the full version with proper formatting.
Spoiler:
This was intended to be a comic, but after several weeks of working on it, I lost the drive to complete it. The comic script has been adapted into prose form and presented here. Hopefully this will help me get my jive back into RP.

I will post the completed pictures plus more in a bit.

This story is intended as a single one-shot, so no continuations are intended except in RP.

Spoiler:








              The humidity in the forest filtered the sleepy sky with a tinge of Elunite violet while the wind sang a soft lullaby as leaves floated along its gentle breath. Leafy hooves lightly stepped between the delicate webs of moist moss as the slender-figured Keeper of the Grove treaded as quietly as he could. He ducked his head every time his antlers would near the branches above him, his large eyes watchful of anyone or anything nearby. His chest barely heaved as a bundle of cloth is pressed against it within both arms. His own leaves press against his person, the vines wrapping tightly around his skin as sweat dripped along his burn-patched hide. Dew gathered along his antlers and hair as the water in the air thickened the further he delved into the wood, with a hand brushing aside interfering vegetation as he approached the darker corners of the pond.

              From there, a glimmer of light shone like pools after a rain. A large tree, its base swollen to a width far larger than the Keeper himself, grew for the sky, though its crown bent on its side with the branches and leaves hanging like a curtain over the pond. Buhayos raised his tree-like hand and waved it slowly, with nature magic channeling as to lift the leaves aside and allow the Keeper to walk through unhindered. In the same motion, his arm lifts, the palm facing the swollen base. A small hole in the bark slowly expands, the creases of the tree’s skin giving way to present the Keeper a hollowed den. Shelves were formed from the inner wood, and each shelf held an item abandoned or tossed away by some mortal, yet held preciously by Buhayos. A cracked coffee mug. A broken hand mirror. An abandoned portrait of some important human. Gunpowder pouches. Orcish leather maps. There was a warped sword, a scratched Stormwind shield, a painter’s kit, even a lyre and a drum. Buhayos encountered these from time to time, from remains of war to abandoned camps to lost items along the road. No one came forward to claim them, so he did. And he cherished them all… even if he didn’t know what they are.

              “You come back from Hyjal in one piece and the first thing you decide to do is to visit your trinket tree instead of coming to your favorite brother? Shame on you, Bu,” a gruff but amiable voice spoke in jest from behind the Keeper. Buhayos jolted as a much larger, far burlier Keeper approached him, his autumn-gold hair braided with vines and leaves. As Buhayos stared blankly, the larger brother opens his arms as a smile cracks on his hardened face. “I kid, I kid. Welcome home, Littlest Brother.”

              ”Liwanaes!”

              The brothers embraced briefly while Liwanaes ruffled Buhayos’ crown a bit, sending some of his leaves to the ground. “It is absolutely good to see you again, Buhayos.”

              ”Did you get my letter? Did you read it to everyone?”

              ”I got the letter and read it, yes. Everyone is looking forward to seeing you again.”

              ” Oh, I miss everyone, Liwa.” Buhayos turns his head down, his fingers interlocking despite the size discrepancy between the hands. “How is everyone?”

              ” Why don’t you ask them yourself? Everyone has gathered here for you.”

              ”…Truly?” The younger Keeper’s eyes widen as his ears pin back. “Surely you are joshing with me.”

              ”Would I ever do that to you?”

              ”Yes.”

              ”That is besides the point. Come on, everyone is waiting.”





              Waiting around the brushes were a large herd of Cenarius’ Children, some in idle play, some resting. Fawns hopped and galloped around, chasing dragonflies that dared buzz nearby. Nearly birthed mothers lay against the trees with their young nestled tenderly in their arms. Keepers chatted among each other, though should one drop his head to impose an antler threat, the other men would talk him down to avert a fight. The chatter can be heard from the treetops, the voices carrying out past the pond and through the wood. Liwanaes and Buhayos followed the sound of brothers chattering and sisters yammering, of little babes crying and fawns laughing. “Everyone!” The golden-autumn-haired called out as he lowers his head to duck beneath a low-hanging branch. “Guess who’s come back from Hyjal!”

              The fawns briefly stop their play as the adults turn their heads. They were the first to greet their uncle as they leaped over the soggy banks and for their delicate uncle. “Uncle Bu! Uncle Bu!”

              ”You’re not joshing me…” Buhayos muttered.

              Liwanaes smirkd as the fawns swamped the younger brother. “And you didn’t believe me.”

              ”Ohh, children! Hello again….” Buhayos says softly as he extended his arms and lowered his trunk so that he could embrace the young ones. Following them were the adults, everyone quick to hold the youngest of the siblings in their arms. “I cannot believe this… everyone is here, even the consorts. There is Nagala, Gitanos, Palunar, Bigana, Polara...”

              ”Speaking of consorts…”

              Buhayos turned his head sharply towards his brother as a sour glare forms on his embittered face while he blurts out a firm and unmoved “No.”

              ”Not even a prospective one?”

              ”I do not have one, nor do I need one! Besides, I’m the only Child of Cenarius in my assigned group.”

              ”Surely?” Buhayos’ siblings—three brothers, Liwanaes, Tubigos, and Apoyan, and two out of three sisters, Langita and Lupana—began to gather around the younger brother while the escorted the children back to their playing spot by the pond, away from adults’ ears.

              As everyone has reclined onto their bellies, Buhayos did the same. He folded his hands before his lower chest as he speaks to his family. “There are some there, either assigned to other Guardians, or for their own herds in defending Hyjal. They are usually very spread out, however…”

              ”But other Children, indeed, are there?”

              ”Absolutely.”

              Tubigos and Apoyan—one blue like reeds’ waters and the other red like summer fires—got up to sit closer to the youngest brother. “Well, then, Littlest Brother… we have news for you,” Tubigos started.

              ”What is it?”

              ”You won’t be going back to Hyjal alone. We’ll be joining you in defending the mountain.”

              Buhayos leaned back as his ears perked up. “Really? But what about Ashenvale?”

              The blue and red brothers look at each other as the other elder siblings peered towards Buhayos. “Well,” Apoyan starts. “That’s the thing, Buhayos…. And it is to do with why everyone is here.”

              As soon as he spoke up, his eyes turned to the far back into the wood. The elder siblings all rose at the same time. In confusion, Buhayos stood up at the same time and turned around to gaze upon the reason for the sudden standing. Leaves curled, branches buckled, and vines withdrew as the woods made way for a very large Keeper and Dryad. The Keeper’s antlers grew the widest of the males, with vines and twigs hanging from them as they drape over a nightly shade of foliage atop of his darkened stag-like form. The Dryad, with flowers growing in between her curled strands of sun-spun gold that extended to her arms like sleeves of a gown, stood almost as tall as her consort, with their hands entwined delicately as they approached their children side by side.

              As the elder Siblings have met with their parents rather recently, they all greeted the Mother and Father with humble bows as their right front legs curl in formality. Buhayos, on the other hand, has forgotten such formalities as his tail wags like an excited fawn, his legs shaking as his hands clench together. “M-Mother… Father….”

              Kurayam, the father, remains in his place as the mother, Okassa, steps forward to embrace the youngest child. ”Welcome home, Buhayos,” he says.

              ”We surely miss you, my dear,” Okassa whispered as Buhayos hides in his mother’s arms.

              Buhayos breathes in slowly as he takes in the familiar scent of his protective mother, her curls lying gently over his own hair as his head lies beneath her bosom. “I cannot believe you are all here… I have not seen either of you since…. s-since the last time Hyjal was…” He steps back, his hands gripping along his mother’s arms. “I knew you were both still alive… but I have worried for you both ever since you both decided to not return home. And when the Firelord came to sear the base of the mountain… I have thought….”

              ”Worry not for us, my son,” Kurayam began as Okassa stepped aside for the family to form a circle. “Hyjal was the reason we departed, and now, Hyjal is the reason we have all gathered here.”

              Okassa extends an arm towards Buhayos as an invitation to sit with her. “Tell us all, son… how are the battles in Hyjal going about exactly beyond the letter?”

              Buhayos looks around everyone, uncertain where to start. “Well… Mother… Father…. Everyone….”

              ”What plans do you have for the Circle of Cinders at current?” Liwanaes prompted.

              The youngest Keeper stammers silently for a moment before he finally started. “A-At the moment? I don’t know what the other Guardians’ plans are, but we all have at current is likely a push through sheer brute force.” He glances down a bit, the confidence of a mortal’s guide lost as he continues to speak to the other, far stronger Children of Cenarius. “Ancient Protectors have arrived to secure the inclines towards Nordrassil. Watchers are standing guard at the barrow dense and have lined up along the paved roads. Archdruids will be entering the Circle in order to hold back-“

              ”Stormrage?” Lupana inquires, interrupting Buhayos.

              Buhayos stammers again before he could continue. “O-oh, no… not yet, at least. But he and Runetotem have stated that they will join the Guardians in Hyjal.” He breathes much easier as the Siblings and their consorts begin to murmur amongst each other, with more affirmative nods than disapproving shakes of their heads. “So… when shall we depart? A-Are we all fighting together?” Buhayos sits up straighter, a smile replacing the nervousness previously wracking his face. “I can’t wait to introduce the people of my assigned branch to you all! T-there is my thero’shan, the shamans, the worgen, even the ghost, and the-… the….”

              Neutral stare. Everyone looked upon their brother with hardened eyes, their faces remained mostly blank. Buhayos took the hint upon their expressions and bowed his head humbly and silently, uncertain whether to continue to list the mortals he has become fond of or not.

              The silence was broken when Tubigos spoke up. “We will all be going ahead on our own.

              ”What? What do you mean?”

              Lupana took upon herself to answer. “We will be aiding the other branches of the Cenarion Circle in securing the Shrines from the Twilights.”

              ”The Shrines… but…. Those have been scorched! They would be heavy with Twilights, it-… It could be very dangerous!”

              ”They are,” Apoyan says as he crosses his arms. “We’re actually counting on it. But we will be sticking together as a team. You can come along with us.”

              The words Buhayos has longed to hear have finally reached his ears. His fists clench as his eyes brighten as he could barely contain the excitement in joining the fray with his family. “Oh… oh! Of course! I’ll inform my branch right away! We’ll begin planning! I can send in my shamans to direct the streams to reduce convection, then perhaps the Harvest druids track where the Twilights have been walking through, then the Druids of the Talon send in-“

              ”Slow down, Littlest Brother,” Lupana says as she reaches over to place her hand onto Buhayos’ shoulder. “We will, uh… not be involving your subordinates in the recapturing of the Shrines.”

              ”…Why not?”

              Lupana was about to answer, but it seemed another sister spoke before anyone else would: “Do you really think they can help us? Especially with you as their guide?” Everyone turned around. Entering the circle with her consort is the ragged-haird dryad Kapiya, armed with her poisoned spear and equally poisonous glare. The wings of her nostrils lift with condescendence as her speech drips with disdain. “Face the facts, Buhayos: you’re stationed at the lowest rungs of the Circle with misfits and blunderers for members. Even the kaldorei among your troops are foolish and inept. I mean, seriously. Going about fully naked in a firefight? Taking a swim in the Well of Eternity? Picking a fight with a dragon-?” She thrusts the spearhead into the ground and sits by it, her consort—ragged and tattered Gihanos—sits almost directly behind her. “Let’s not forget the farmerboy human whose idea of combat was throwing boots to the head…” she continued. “And a child kaldorei who ran into battle with scorching elementals with nothing but a simple stick.”

              ”H-How did you…” Buhayos stuttered as he pales upon the sight of Kapiya and Gihanos. “I… I didn’t write any of these in my letter!”

              The other Siblings look among each other. A few sigh as Liwanaes spoke up to lower the façade. “You didn’t have to, Buhayos.”

              ”….What?”

              ” We requested information from an attending Talon for additional word on your branch in Hyjal. Besides the progress made, we got…. well. Your demographics.”

              ”Blood elves…” Kapiya began.

              ”Orcs!!” Gihanos barked.

              ”Who chop off heads,” Apoyan sighed as he continued.

              Even the consorts spoke of their disproval. “Former followers of Fangfire…. False priests who insist on everyone to follow their Light over Elune…”

              And then… a brief pause before the single most humiliating word is spoken from almost everyone in the circle to confirm the degeneracy of Buhayos’ branch: “…’Whorehouse’.”

              ”I had no idea what they were talking about!!” Buhayos yells back defensively as he started to shake. He tries to control his breathing as his fingers fumble against each other in his clenched hands. “L-Listen to me…. T-these ‘misfits’-“

              ”-Seldom listen to your words,” Kapiya says as she disallows Buhayos to finish. “They will follow you into battle, but leave them to their devices; a fight will break out among them over the most trivial of matters. Every single time.” She holds up a hand as she waves over the patches in Buhayos’ fur. ”And look at yourself! You should have been able to heal those burns in a heartbeat… but you still have patches over your hocks!”

              ”I-…“

              ”What, is a little fire too much for you to handle, Littlest Brother? Or did you have to rely on—Elune forbid—mortals to heal you.”

              Buhayos’ leaves rustle and stand up on end as the youngest brother moves to stand up. “Now, listen-!”

              ”Enough,” Kurayam says towards Kapiya to stop her further prodding. Okassa raised her arm to keep Buhayos from standing up anymore. The Father looks around the circle, his brows furrow with disappointment as he sees his children deliberately invoking anger in the well-meaning youngest. However, he wasn’t finished with him. “Buhayos. We do not take kindly upon beings who lack sight on the balance of life’s cycles, let alone the protection of Nordrassil and Mount Hyjal. With the return of the Highborne and the Worgen, as well as the mortals’ War, these mortals are only heading closer to overthrowing balance wholly in ways the Twilight’s Hammer wouldn’t even dream of. They will destroy each other, my son—and it seems you are getting too involved with their affairs.”

              ”But I’m not-“

              ”I pray you aren’t trying to get closer to them, are you?” Okassa stroked along Buhayos’ back to calm him down as she spoke to him. “It is one thing to lead and guide them, my son… but it’s another to become one of them. Those Guardians are hardly united, and many more are unprepared for the fights that lay ahead of them. They seem to get that the protection of Hyjal is important… but they do not get at all why it is. They do not see the big picture.” She pauses for a moment as she sees Buhayos’ leaves fall off with despondency. She begins brushing them off as she places a gentle hand beneath his chin so that he may look her in the eyes. “We worry you are losing sight of it. We have a place in nature’s life cycles that these beings cannot even fathom. You must understand that.”

              ”Mother…”

              ”That is why we are heading straight for the Shrines, Buhayos. We will be checking on the Sanctuary of Malorne before we head to Aessina’s Grove.”

              ”Sanctuary of-…” Buhayos paused as he recalls its location. “That’s dangerously close to the Firelord! Y-you can’t just-”

              Kurayam shook his head. “You worry too much for our safety, son.”

              ”That’s right, Baby Bu,” Kapiya taunts. “We’re not delicate flowers like you are.“
              Buhayos barks, “I am not delicate!”

              Liwanaes sighs as he got up to sit closer to Buhayos, on the other side from Okassa and before Tubigos and Apoyan. “Bu…” he began as he spoke gently to the littlest brother. “Face it… you are. We… honestly would prefer you stay here in the Den and watch the fawns like you did before.”

              ”But-“

              ”Nature’s life cycles need us all, Buhayos… but your place isn’t in the front lines.”

              ”Or the back, for that matter,” Kapiya cracked.

              Liwanaes had enough of Kapiya’s comments. “Seriously, Kapiya, shut up.” He turns back to Buhayos as he watches the littlest brother bow his head. “We just want you to be safe, Littlest Brother. Let your troop fight among themselves and have more experienced Cenarions handle Hyjal’s peak. We have bigger matters to attend to nature’s big picture. And besides—all you’re pretty much doing is babysitting.” He chuckles as he nudges Buhayos’ shoulder, hoping to lighten his mood. “If you’re going to be watching children all day, you may as well be watching over our family.”

              Buhayos thought for a moment. He recalled when the hunt for the Twilight scouts took a bad turn when he was at the brunt of most of the fires that severely burned him. Though he was still awake and aware, the others insisted on him resting while they cared for him, even going as far as to transport him as a group despite his large size. He recalled the pillow Sapna provided for him. The feather Dayestra gave him and her fulfillment of her promise to show him her hawkstrider, a bird from the other continent. Roux was nice enough to offer him tea. Jhava, despite being threatened by a dragon, nevertheless gave him acorns as a holiday gift. And there were the Dreaming Glory seeds Sapna also gave as a gift for seemingly no other reason besides she wanted to. And the time Mica was hurt and Buhayos offered to find her family… the words she said…



”But I thought we’re family.”



              ”…the Guardians are my family, Liwanaes.”

              ”….What?”

              Buhayos looked around, no longer stammering, no longer afraid. There were no harshness in his eyes, but a calm, collected focus on what he felt was important. “I have little connections with them, and as far as I know it, I am just a strange deer-man who happens to be making sure they behave and get things done. But even the children among these misfits bear courage most keepers and dryads would not dare possess. They may not see the big picture, but they can see the smaller parts of the whole. They may fight and bicker, but by far, no one has killed each other. When one is injured, the immediate response is to fall back and save them rather than leave them to die—even when doing so would be much more pragmatic.” He turns to his mother as he speaks more directly towards her. “They come from different backgrounds, so they see corners of the world others cannot. They may even view a different bigger picture than we do. But they understand Azeroth’s cycles are in danger of ending. I know their place in those cycles would not be enough to restore balance…” He pauses once more to look at everyone in general, including Kapiya and Gihanos. “…But these Guardians of Hyjal didn’t come for the nature’s life cycles. They came to protect Nordrassil and Mount Hyjal. And I am there to be their guide. Nothing more, nothing less.”
              Once more, silence. Time seemed to stretch as Buhayos awaited an answer. At first, there was nothing. Kapiya stood up, a hand waving for her consort to join her as they both left. After them was Langita and Gitanos… Lupana and Palunar… Tubigos and Bigana… Apoyan and Polara. Nagala looked towards Liwaenaes before Okassa walked along with her. Kurayam turned his back to join the others… but not before saying a very simple sentence:

              ”It is your decision, son.”






              ”Bu…” Liwanaes says, the last of the family still around. Buhayos does not respond immediately, as the younger continued to stared into the void of which his family departed into. “You… can still come for us whenever you wish. We’re trying to see if we can gain the help from the spirits of the Ancients… wherever they roam.”

              ”Liwa…”

              ” Don’t worry, Littlest Brother. You at least have Archdruid Stormrage and Runetotem and even Ysera Herself to help all of the Guardians of Hyjal and the rest of the Circle. Just let your branch be by themselves and come with us.”

              ”I can’t just leave them, Liwa…”

              ”But they did just fine without you, didn’t they?”

              ”………”



              ”……………..It’s your decision, Littlest Brother.” And with that, Liwanaes turned to join the family into the dark.














              Birds sang mournfully for the setting sun as the twilight is arriving with the blanket of night to cloak the forest over. A formation of geese flew overhead, with herbivorous beasts bellowing before they began to make way for the safety of their dens before the predators come at night. The wind blew onto the reeds to produce a despondent thumping sound, with its breath rippling the pond and agitating the fish below. Buhayos observed his surroundings as he picked up a dwarven candlestick, found in a stream not far from Warsong Gulch. It took the Keeper a while to figure out how to make it work, but he was able to use the flint to start a light. He kept the candle far from his trinket tree, using its light to help him see as the night is approaching.

              Keepers and dryads don’t normally do this, but he felt he could put this candle to good use. And he may as well—he and Liwanaes were the only ones of their family who knew how to read and write. Though it seems they’d have to do more of this as the family remains far from him.

              Buhayos opened the bundle he brought with him earlier, with the contents inside intended to be placed onto the shelves before. There were two pouches, one containing the Jhava’s acorns and the other Sapna’s seeds. There was also a bowl inside, intended for food but used for Roux’s tea instead… Buhayos asked permission if he could have some more tea, but the innkeeper misinterpreted his request for having more of the bowl itself and told him he could keep it. Fair enough. The bowl bore Dayestra’s hawkstrider’s feather, with its fanciful shimmer reflecting from the candlelight. As Buhayos spread the cloth, he noticed some of Mica’s juniper berries have been caught onto the fabric… likely due to Buhayos wrapping the items together atop of the juniper bush. Nevertheless, he smiled. He plucked the berries and placed them into the bowl, using it to also hold the two seed pouches. He placed the bowl onto the shelf, right by the damaged portraits found by a broken carriage he found with no owners returning to claim it. He moved on of them to gaze upon the blue-bearing human stranger, with white hairs among red and a great hammer borne in his plated hands. Buhayos couldn’t identify the man in the painting, but given the flags and the wise gaze in his wizened eyes, he figured he was rather important.

              ”Tahogas,” Buhayos called the man in absence of his real name. “If talking to my family wouldn’t lift the burdens from my heart, would speaking among your people will?” He looks down sorrowfully as though the man in the painting laughed at him. “N-no… surely, they would not understand. Perhaps they would come up with my suggestion to just stand on my own and walk on… or I should seek another path or some strange advice…” He adjusts the portrait so that the candle would shine brightly near the corner as he rearranges the shelf. “But the purpose of a Keeper is to protect and guide nature’s life cycles… and they best do their purpose in a herd.” He pushes aside a lyre as he strums the strings idly. “But I get injured too easily, and I am shoved into the Den and kept there more often than not… like a potted flower, kept in the home except to look pretty.” He thinks of Liwanaes’ words, then to the Guardians. Surely, they have their own problems, but they mostly kept to themselves. Even when Roux presented her worries over the woman who pursued her, she encouraged the Keeper to stay aside.

              ”Tahogas… I do not like being alone. When I am with family, I am but a potted flower. When I am with the Cenarion Circle… I’m not sure how I feel.” He idly twirls his bark fingers along a flower, prompting it to grow far larger than the others. He recalls the story he told to Narina, his thero’shan, using flowers and plants to represent the Ancients, the Kaldorei, and the Burning Legion as they all fought in the War of the Ancients… then he has an idea. Buhayos looks upon the tree beside him and the wood it bore him from within the hole. The Keeper raises a hand to grow branches before they would fall off, the bark and wood shedding off to create little shapes. Little people. There is an orc woman, a worgen woman… her consort. Multiple kaldorei. Other worgen, other orcs. He even included a Tauren, some dwarves, and other people he could recall ever since his first meeting as a Cenarion guide. As the figurines take form, Buhayos cleared the bottom-most shelf to put his little display below. He organized the figurines according to how he remembered them chatting and making idle time, either as friends or as petty enemies. Little people within a big tree. A part of it. All part of the big picture.

              The last of the little figures is Buhayos’ himself, made rather crudely as his form would be the most detailed. But he stuck the little Keeper with the little Guardians to complete the big picture.

              ”If just for now… we are one… under one purpose… under the Crown of the Heavens.” He looks over to Tahogas before slipping his hand into the bowl for Sapna’s pouch. He removes one of the seeds and places it into the soil, with warm nature magic channeling for its growth. At last, a little sprout pops out, though it is not ready to bloom yet.

              ”Dreaming Glory…” Buhayos whispered softly to the little plant as he reached for the candle to pinch its wick. The fire hurt a little, but Buhayos didn’t mind. “Dreaming Glory… please give me pleasant dreams tonight.” He says this with some mournful uncertainty, though, figuring that is not how Dreaming Glories work as he lays his head by his trinket tree and flower. He curled up, his eyes clenching tightly as the cold began to settle and the hour of darkness has come. Rather than thinking on pitying himself, he focused on the sounds the forest made and the life cycles he and the Keepers were born to maintain.

There was hardly anything to listen for as the wind had died down. And Buhayos, once more, hardly slept well that night.