And The Two Shall Be As One
((Written by poFreddian))
A Child Is Born
A young Kaldorei girl named Danyx lay on a simple wooden bed, sweat beading her brow. A midwife stood nearby, awaiting the time of delivery. The young nightelf girl was nervous. This was her first child, which was sufficient reason. But there was another, darker reason for her worry. A few months earlier, she had encountered a troll in the forests. For some reason, instead of attacking her, he had approached in a friendly way. Her curiosity got the better of her, and one thing led to another. It had only been that one time, but the interval was right. What if this child had a troll for a father? What would happen to her child? What would happen to her?
Danyx cried out in pain as her time arrived. The midwife busied herself, unconcerned but sympathetic. As the baby's head crowned, the midwife smiled.
"Your baby has beautiful blue skin!" she exclaimed. "Push, now, push!"
Danyx pushed, and the baby's head emerged, followed rapidly by the rest of her body.
"It's a girl!" the midwife said, smiling.
She lifted the newborn girl to the table, wrapping her in soft cloths. Then she noticed the baby's ears. They were oddly short. The midwife examined them as she dried them.
"Hmm, I've never seen a child with ears like this," she said to herself.
Then she saw her feet. They were wedge-shaped, with only two toes on each foot. The midwife's scream echoed through the small house as she ran out, leaving the baby there on the table.
Danyx struggled out of the bed, stepping slowly over to the table. She looked down at her child's face.
"Don't worry, little one," she said soothingly. "Momma is here."
Danyx picked up the baby, wrapping her tightly in the cloths. She drew on her clothing hastily, knowing that they must be gone before the midwife returned with others. Holding her baby in her arms, she left the house, traveling quietly through the trees, headed for The Barrens. She knew of a woman, there.
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The ancient troll shaman woman looked up from her scrying bowl. She sniffed, nodding and muttering to herself. She motioned to a black raven nearby, and the bird came to rest on her wrinkled arm.
"Go, see how close they are," she commanded in a whispery voice, filled with age and power.
The bird flew obediently off, and the shamaness closed her eyes, muttering the words to a little-known spell. Her vision shifted, and she could watch through the eyes of the raven as it flew. Very shortly, the raven's keen eyes picked out a small figure hurrying down the sandy road, headed south. It was a night elf girl, and she was carrying something in her arms. The bird flew closer, until it could make out the small bundle.
"Yah, dat be dem!" the shamaness said to herself. She dismissed the spell, returning her sight to her own eyes, and went out to stand near the road.
A half an hour later, Danyx arrived, her baby girl held tightly in her arms. Spying the shamaness, Danyx approached cautiously.
"Do not fear, girl, I remember you," the old woman called out. "I have been expectin' you, and you're liddle one. Come in, now, quickly, before you are spotted out here."
Danyx nodded and followed the shamaness into her small house. She started to speak, but the shamaness held up her hand.
"No need ta explain, girl. I know da situation. And I will take da child. It is meant to be dis way. Da spirits have told me dis. I will raise her here, and she will be safe. You don' need ta worry 'bout her."
The shamaness reached out for the child, and Danyx handed the baby over, tears springing unbidden to her eyes.
"Go, now, before da sadness takes hold," the shamaness said, and as Danyx turned, the shamaness waved her hands, casting a gentle spell of forgetfulness. Danyx blinked, and sighed, and ran out the door, turning back toward Ashenvale and home. As the spell of forgetfulness took hold, Danyx had a brief moment of regret.
"I never gave her a name!" she said to herself. And then the urgency faded, and she shrugged and ran on.
The shamaness nodded and spoke softly to the child. "Your momma will remember you, don' worry 'bout dat. But not too much, not too much..."
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The baby grew up there in the Barrens, as a slave, for the old woman knew the realities of life for a half-breed. As a slave, she'd at least have a place in the world.
For a time, she was simply called 'Baby', until she began to speak and the old shamaness decided she needed a name.
"You are always dancin', girl, so I will call you dat. Danzyn. Dat be your name."
And Danzyn was happy enough, playing with the animals, learning about nature and the earth from the old woman. Danzyn especially liked the lions that roamed the plains. Once, she saw a huge golden lion, and she pointed it out to her "master," for that was how she thought of the old shamaness.
"Yah, girl, dat be one o' dem Mulgore lions. Dey don' usually come dis far."
Danzyn watched the lion until it stalked out of sight.
"I want a lion like dat!" she said softly to herself.
Danzyn's life was mostly good, despite the hard work she had to do. The shamaness was kind to her. The only dark spot in Danzyn's life was the shamaness' son, who constantly picked on her. She was a slave, and beneath him, he figured. When they were young, it was mostly name calling.
"Blue skin!" he laughed. "Tiny tusks!"
She never let him see her tears. As they grew, he enjoyed ordering her around, and making her do the chores that he was supposed to do himself. Eventually, the son married, and his wife came to live there with them. She took an instant dislike to Danzyn, and so poor Danzyn had to suffer even more, ordered about by both the son and his new wife.
At last, the old woman died. The son wanted to keep Danzyn as his own slave, but his wife would have none of it. Danzyn was barely 13, but she begun to fill out.
"I don't want that girl here. She is a half-breed, for one thing, and she is entirely too grown-up to be hanging around here. I want her gone."
The son hesitated a moment, looking at Danzyn, and then at his wife.
"I'll, uh, do something," he said.
In the end, he decided that his life would be better if he just got rid of the girl, so he contacted some goblins in Ratchet. One night, they showed up at the house, and took Danzyn away with them, her hands tied behind her back. They shipped her to Booty Bay, to be sold at auction.
Freddian stared at the cards in his hand, carefully keeping his expression neutral. He glanced up at the balding troll across the table from him, trying to determine the man's state of mind. What little hair the man had left was green, and Freddian wrinkled his nose. Freddian looked again at his own cards, and then at the pile of coins that sat on the table between the two trolls. He picked up his own coin sack, and jingled it slightly, thinking. He had a good hand, a very good hand. He doubted the drunken fishmonger across from him was holding better cards, but the real question was how much to risk? He only had about 30 silver left. He could double it, or better, if he won.
He made his decision and announced it in a quiet voice, trying to sound timid and unsure, so that the other man wouldn't guess that Freddian's hand was so strong.
"Okey, dokey, mon. I call you, I guess, and raise da bet thirty silvers." He placed his remaining coins on the table, and the fishmonger across the table sat up a bit straighter, his eyes widening a bit in surprise.
"Hey, dat not fair. I don' have enough ta cover dat bet, mon!" the fishmonger complained, waving his hands about.
Freddian smiled. "So, dat mean you is out? I win?"
"No!" the man exclaimed. "No, wait, let me tink, mon..." The fishmonger shook his head as if to clear it, and his gaze came to rest upon a young female troll who sat quietly in a chair a little behind him. She looked up as he turned, her very small tusks catching the light for a moment. Her skin was lighter than most trolls, and her eyes seemed to glow a little in the dimness. The fishmonger pointed to the girl, and looked back at Freddian.
"How 'bout da girl? She be worth at least 30 silvers, I tink. She be strong, good at cleaning and carrying. What you tink, mon?"
Freddian narrowed his eyes a bit. If the man was willing to bet his slave girl, maybe his hand was better than Freddian thought. Then again, it could be a drunken bluff. If Freddian agreed, he could win all the coin, and the girl too, although what he would do with a slave girl he didn't know.
He peered more closely at the girl, wondering for a moment how she had come to be a slave in the first place. Slavery wasn't that common among trolls, but it wasn't all that odd, either. Based on her skin color and her very small tusks, Freddian surmised that she could possibly be part elf, or some other such thing. That would be a disgrace in any noble troll family, and would explain why the girl had wound up a slave. Probably her parents had sold her to get rid of her. Freddian shrugged. She was pretty, though, in a way, despite her dirty clothes. He wondered idly if she could cook at all.
Freddian nodded, agreeing. "Yah, mon, dat be okay. So, you callin', or foldin'?"
The fishmonger looked at the girl for several seconds while thinking about it, and she shifted slightly in her chair. Her expression was one of resignation, and she stole a quick glance at Freddian. Their eyes met for just a second before she cast her gaze down to the floor, and Freddian saw a glint of something fiery behind her eyes.
"I be callin' ya, mon," the fishmonger said at last. "Show me what joo got!"
"Full house!" Freddian said with a wide smile, laying his cards upon the table.
"What!" the fishmonger stood up, waving his hands in agitation. Freddian quietly grasped the shaft of his mace, just in case, keeping his eyes on the fishmonger. "Damn you, and da earth that spit you out, you, you... shaman!" the fishmonger shouted, as if the word shaman was an epithet.
Freddian stood then, and retrieved his coin bag. He swept all of the coins off of the table into his bag, and bowed slightly to the fishmonger, who was pounding on the table and cursing.
"Tanks, mon. Maybe we play again, sometime, yah?"
The fishmonger let his head droop as he shook it back and forth. "Oh yah, we play again sometime. When hell freezes over!"
He reached over and grabbed the girl roughly by the shoulder, pulling her to her feet. He shoved her toward Freddian.
"Take her, mon. She be trouble, anyway."
The girl managed to stop herself before she ran into Freddian, and she stood before him, eyes downcast. He lifted her chin with his hand and looked into her face.
"What is your name, girl?" he asked.
"Danzyn," she replied softly.
"Ah, dat's a nice name," he said, comfortingly. The girl didn't smile, but her shoulders relaxed a bit. "Okay, den, come on, I will show you where I live. You got any bags or anyting?"
"No."
Freddian nodded and turned, and the girl followed him, never even glancing back at her former master.
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When they arrived at Freddian's small room at the Inn, Danzyn stood quietly just inside the doorway while Freddian hung his backpacks on the wall pegs. He set his mace upon the table and turned to face her, looking her up and down. He wasn't quite sure how to act, having never had a slave of his own before. He chuckled softly to himself, amused at the situation.
"So, Danzyn, dis is my place. Not much to look at, I guess."
She looked around the room for a moment before replying, "It is nice, master."
Freddian blinked at being called master. He rolled the word around in his mind for a moment. Master. He kind of liked the sound of it. He stepped closer to Danzyn and examined her. She smelled of fish, and her clothing was frayed and tattered. He reached out to touch one of her small tusks, and she started to pull back, before remembering her place and standing placidly as he ran his finger along it.
"What be wrong?" Freddian asked. "You don't like your tusks?"
"They are small," she said, with more sadness in her voice than he expected.
"Big enough," he said, trying to sound soothing. "I like them."
Danzyn looked up at him, her expression suddenly vulnerable. "Nobody likes them," she said.
"I do."
She actually smiled then, for the first time since he'd seen her, and it seemed to Freddian that the room got brighter. He felt a sudden and intense desire to hug her, but he restrained himself, surprised by his emotion. This was going to be different, he thought, having this girl around.
"So, um, I only have one bed in here," Freddian said. "It is late and I am very tired."
He had a sudden thought and looked at Danzyn questioningly.
"Did you, you know, have to um, sleep with...your old master?" he asked.
"I slept on da floor, mostly. Only at da beginning he wanted me in his bed, once, but he only lasted a few minutes," she said, sounding disappointed. "Mostly he was too drunk to care where I was. I cleaned his place. Cleaned da fish." She shrugged. "You want me ta sleep wid you tonight?" she asked without embarassment. "I be good slave, do what you say, keep you happy." She arched her back, a hopeful look on her face.
Freddian barely managed to keep the surprise off of his face. This slave stuff was...different. She would do anything? He just had to say so? His mind swirled with the possibilities, and he walked around her slowly, mostly to give himself time to let it all sink in. She was certainly attractive, even more so than he had thought, now that he could see her in better light. She was a little scrawny, probably that fishmonger didn't feed her very well. Danzyn stood quietly as he walked around her, keeping her back arched, with her firm breasts pushed out against her thin shirt.
Freddian grinned, and decided to test out this new relationship. "Sit on da floor, " he commanded. Danzyn complied instantly, sitting crosslegged and looking up at him. "Lay face down," he said, and she did so, pressing her nose against the coolness of the wooden floor. "Stand back up!" Freddian cried, starting to laugh a little. Danzyn stood, a small smile playing across her own lips. "Touch your nose!" Freddian commanded, laughing louder. Danzyn touched her nose, giggling.
Freddian paused for a moment, considering. "Well, um, take off your shirt!" he said.
"Yes, master," Danzyn replied, and she unbuttoned quickly, letting the shirt fall to the floor. Freddian gazed at her, trying not to look stunned. This was definitely more than he had bargained for, but...
"And da pants," he said, quietly.
Several hours later, Freddian spoke gently into Danzyn's ear, his lips pressed against her skin. "Pull up da covers, will you?" Danzyn grinned, sitting up for a moment and finding the blanket. She pulled it up over them, and snuggled in close, pressing her body into the curve of his chest. This master was a big improvement, she thought to herself, as she drifted into the most peaceful sleep she had known in a very long time.
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Danzyn awoke and sat up in the bed. Her eyes swept the room in confusion for a moment, until she remembered where she was. Freddian was nowhere to be seen, and she had a moment of panic. Had he left her? Maybe he was displeased? What would she do if had? But then she saw that his cloak was still draped over the chair, and his mace was still on the table. She felt a pang of fear. She had overslept! And she didn't even know what her duties were! She got up and began straightening the small room. She made the bed, and looked around for her clothing. It was gone, and she wondered what to do next.
Just then, the door opened, and Freddian entered, holding a large bag in one hand. Danzyn turned and knelt, keeping her eyes on the floor. Freddian closed the door and came over to her. When he spoke, his voice was calm, and she relaxed a little.
"I threw dose clothes away, girl. They be too dirty to save, and dat fish smell will never come out of dem," he said, holding out the bag to her. "Here, put dese on."
Danzyn took the bag and looked inside it, her eyes widening. The bag contained a full set of simple leather armor, a soft linen shirt, and linen panties. She looked up at Freddian, her mouth open in surprise and pleasure.
"Dese are for me?" she asked, unwilling to trust that they really were.
"Yah, what you tink? I'm goin' ta wear dem panties?" he said, a glint of amusement in his eyes.
"Oh, thank you, master!" she exclaimed, as if he had just given her the greatest gift in the world.
He watched as she stood and put on the clothing, piece by piece, admiring her grace. At the bottom of the sack, she found a small leather collar. She took it out and held it, looking at Freddian. He just nodded, and she nodded back, reaching up to clasp the collar around her neck. A slight shiver ran through her body, and she stood up straight, turning in front of him, seeking his approval.
"Much beddah, girl," he said. "Dis afternoon we get us a tub, though. Scrub up, yah."
"I will carry da water!" she said happily.
"Yah, dat be good. But first you come wid me and we get you someting to fight wid. A bow, I tink, and a hammah or someting. You know how to use dem?"
She blushed, looking at the floor again. "Only a liddle, master. I wanted ta be a hunter, but my old master, he didn't care 'bout dat."
Freddian nodded and grinned. "Well, tings be different now, girl. You beddah work hard, learn to be a good hunter. I need you to hunt wid me."
"Really? Wid you!? Like, out in da outdoors?" Danzyn's body almost vibrated with excitement.
Freddian grinned wider. "Yah, girl. Dat's what I said, didn't I? We hunt, kill, den come home, eat, sleep, learn, grow... dat what life be for. Hey, is you a good cook?" he asked, hopefully.
"Oh yes, I can cook anyting!" she said, proudly. "I will cook for you! You will be happy wid me!"
"Mmmhmm. I am already happy wid you," Freddian said softly, and stepped close, putting his arms around her. She sighed, and relaxed her body against his. He held her close for a long moment, before releasing his grasp and turning to pick up his mace from the table. He strapped it to his side.
"Well, we have work to do, girl. Let's go."
Danzyn followed him out the door, a spring in her steps, the soft leather armor creaking a bit as she moved.
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The fishmonger drank himself into a stupor after losing the card game to Freddian. When he awoke, his head ached and his eyes were bleary. He called out hoarsely.
"Get me some breakfast, you little slut!"
No one answered, and the nearly bald troll sat up angrily, looking around. Then he remembered. He slammed his fists into the mattress.
"Dat shaman cheated, I bet! He stole my girl! I jus' know he had ta cheat! I never lose like dat! I be gettin' him, yah, I be gettin' him for dat!"
He stood up and dressed hastily, grabbing a wicked looking dagger from the wall and shoving it into his belt. He exited his ramshackle room, slamming the door behind him. The sudden noise caused most of the seagulls in the area to take flight, squawking their displeasure. He cursed at them, shaking his fist.
Freddian stood behind Danzyn, watching her practice her marksmanship. The simple bow he had bought her had pleased her so much that she had done a little dance for him, right there in the market square. Her very sensual dance had attracted the stares of many. He grinned at the memory. She looked back at him, and he nodded approvingly. A few of her arrows had hit the target, at least.
Suddenly her expression changed to one of confusion, and then fear. She raised her bow and aimed it directly at Freddian! He ducked instinctively, instantly casting a shielding spell upon himself. Danzyn drew back her bow, and let her arrow fly. Freddian cried out in surprise, starting to dodge out of the way, but the arrow flew past him to the left. He heard a sudden gurgling scream behind him, and swiveled around rapidly.
The fishmonger staggered, the arrow lodged deep in his neck. He stumbled, dropping a dagger from his hand, and fell twitching into the sand at Freddian's feet.
Freddian stared at the troll, as blood seeped out into a widening pool, soaking the sand. Freddian looked over his shoulder at Danzyn, who had dropped her bow and was running up to him. He turned, opening his arms, and she ran sobbing into his embrace.
"I tink I owe you one," he said softly into her hair.
Re: And The Two Shall Be As One
((Written by poFreddian))
Balance
The next few weeks passed rapidly. Danzyn was a quick study, and her skills as a hunter improved rapidly. She was also a very fine cook, and the two of them ate like royalty. Her once-scrawny frame filled out nicely, and Freddian was more than pleased with his girl. But one thing nagged at the back of his mind, and kept him from fully savoring the time. As a shaman, Freddian was tuned in to the forces of nature. The earth spoke to him in deep and spiritual ways, and try as he would, he could not shake it off.
Finally, one evening after they had eaten a fine meal of roasted boar together, he drew Danzyn into his lap. She cuddled against him happily.
"Dere is some business I mus' do, girl. I will be gone a few days. You jus' keep on wid da trainin', and I will be back before da weekend."
She nodded, looking into his eyes.
"You don' be gone long?"
"No, jus' a few days."
"I will be here, den, master." She smiled a little, but he could see she was trying to hide her worry.
It was a long hard climb up the mountain to the shrine. Freddian had been here once before, when he sought the power of the fire totem. The Shaman Master recognized him, of course, and already knew why he had come. Freddian was not surprised.
"So, you understand the issue, young Shaman?" the Master asked after explaining things in his soft voice.
"Yah, I understan'."
"The forces of nature and the earth must stay in balance. Your very life depends on that. Your power depends upon it. The earth is counting on you, Freddian. Do not fail."
"I will not fail," Freddian replied. Then he stood, and bowed deeply, before starting the long trek back down the mountain.
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Danzyn was in their Inn room when Freddian returned. She jumped up at the sound of the door, and bounced excitedly as he entered.
"You are back!" she exclaimed happily, and took a couple of steps toward him. He held out his arms and she stepped into them, sighing with pleasure as he hugged her close. "I missed you, master."
Freddian chuckled softly, putting his hands on her shoulders and pushing her back so he could look into her face.
"We mus' talk, girl. Dere is someting I mus' do."
Danzyn nodded quietly, looking suddenly worried, but she said nothing.
"It is da forces of nature, girl. Dey are out of balance, and I mus' not ignore dat."
"Out of balance?" she asked. She knew a little about the forces of nature herself, and had been learning much more in her time with him. "How dat be?"
Freddian gestured toward her neck.
"Da collar," he said.
Danzyn blinked in surprise. She had always worn some kind of slave collar, ever since she could remember. When she was 13, she had been sold at auction in the slave markets of Booty Bay, and become the property of the fishmonger. She was now just 19 years old, and the slave's life was all she knew. Her hands moved to her neck, and she fingered the soft leather of her collar.
"What be wrong wid it?" she asked.
Freddian sighed, pushing his emotions into the background. He had to do this. He reached out and unfastened the collar, placing it into her hands. She blinked rapidly, as tears threatened to spring from her eyes.
"You don' wan' me anymore?" she asked, her voice soft and sad.
"No, girl, it's not dat. It is all about life, and da balance."
She gave him a puzzled look, clearly not understanding.
"You remember dat fishmonger, girl. He tried ta kill me."
"Yah, master, of course I remember. I was so scared."
"Yah, you was scared, but you did da right ting. You saved my life. Dat's what I mean about da balance. I owe you a life, girl. As my slave, your life be mine. So, if I owe you a life, I got to give you one back, to keep da balance. You see? I got ta keep da balance."
"But..."
"No buts. I owe you a life. Your life be mine. So, I mus' give you your life back. I mus' free you."
Danzyn was silent for a long while, struggling with warring emotions. Finally, she spoke.
"You want me to go?"
Freddian shook his head. "It don' mattah what I want, girl. Your life belong to you, now. All dat mattah is what you want. You mus' choose, for yourself." He dropped his hands to his sides, and studied his fingernails.
She looked at his face, then down at the collar in her hands. She turned it over a few times, feeling its familiar softness. She felt the coolness at her neck, where the collar had always been. She turned, and sat in the wooden chair beside the table. She studied the grain of the wood in the tabletop as she thought.
This was something she had never experienced before, this choosing. It was new, and she wasn't sure she liked it. She knew how people looked at her. She was used to the expressions of distaste and scorn. She had been told by more than one person how she should "rise up, and take back your freedom!" But she was happy, she thought. Happier than most.
She looked back at Freddian, who still stood uncomfortably, looking at his hands. She could leave, go out into the world on her own, and be a free woman. Or she could stay here, with this man who had been so kind to her, who seemed to know her in a way she never thought she'd be known. Her mind buzzed with the effort of deciding. She could be free, but what did freedom hold for her? This man accepted her as she was. And, deep inside, she knew he needed her, even loved her. And she loved him. Freedom was just a word, anyway. Nobody was really free. Everybody served, in one way or another. In truth, she was the lucky one. She had found her place, and nothing was going to take it away from her.
"Okay, den," she said, standing once more. "You say I mus' choose. Den I will choose."
She walked over saucily and poked Freddian in the ribs, hard. He looked up at her, his eyes widening.
"Hey, what dat for?"
"I want you to watch!" she said. And with that, she raised her chin resolutely, and fastened the collar back around her neck. "Dere," she said simply. "I choose." She smiled then, a smile as brilliant as the morning sun, her small tusks glittering and her eyes gleaming with impetuous glee. "I choose you!"
Freddian felt the forces of the earth shift, swirling around Danzyn and himself as they came back into balance, and he held out his arms. Danzyn flew into them, and he crushed her to himself, smothering her with kisses.
I've been thinking of her of late. I sometimes feel bad that I don't think of her more often, though my guilt is eased in the fact that the old shaman woman likely did something to ease my pain, ease the memories.
I have been know to disappear from time to time. Bearing that child was my longest self exile from all who I know. I couldn't risk what would happen, if the knowledge got out that my child could be other than Kaldorei. We are a proud race. True my love is a human man, but I never promised to give him a child. I have no idea how he'd think of me if he knew that the child I had given birth to long ago was half troll, that I had bedded a troll out of lustful curiosity.
I birthed here where no one knew me, and I loved her instantly but knew I could not possibly keep her. She looked too much like her father's people. It was long ago that I had rescued my white lion in the northern barrens. I remembered a farm there, a shaman woman who seemed kind, did not seem to mind my presence. I daresay I heard her laughing when I stole the white lion from the deathly grasp of that Forsaken warlock that meant to kill the poor cat. That is where I took her, to that farm. That shaman woman seemed to be expecting me. I should have cried when I left. I don't know why the tears didn't come. I could feel them threatening and then they were suddenly gone. I don't even remember leaving the Barrens that day, what route I took, if I saw anyone that I knew or not.
I think of her from time to time. I have been guilty of watching her at a distance, wondering how her life is. I love her, I must do so from a distance, but I do love her, that trollish child of mine.
Re: And The Two Shall Be As One
((written by Defafnyr=poDanzyn))
The Rake of Mulgore
She watched the lions in the Barrens. Like her, they lounged in the shade of a tree, occasionally lifting their noses to a stray breeze to read the wind and what message it might carry. The last breeze brought the scent of a gnome that sent her into fits of sneezing. It took a great deal of time for the wildlife around her to settle down after her allergies calmed, but she had plenty of time. There was little to do today but lounge here beneath this tree this morning and think while her master was away on what he called a “sabbatical.”
Her whole life she’d wanted one of the lions for her own. As a young slave she’d dared to dream of being a great huntress with a lion of her own by her side. Not just a Barrens lions though. She wanted a Mulgore lion, a special lion, one that had grown up not on this dusty landscape but one that had lived on green grasses. Green grasses. She’d never seen those before. She was a Troll. She should have grown up in a lush jungle, at the very least on the coast near the Isles in the south, not here on the sandy, rocky Barrens where grass only came in sun-bleached yellow. Well, at least half of her was Troll. The shaman woman who gave her shelter as a slave in her household told her very little of her mother, only that she had brought her here and that her name had been Danyx. Danzyn could not be sure of her mother’s race, but she had her suspicions. Danzyn’s tusks were shamefully tiny proving her lack of full Trollish blood, and her eyes often had an odd glow, shifting from their normal amber to an iridescent glowing green. She’d seen that same glow in the eyes of the Kaldorei that occasionally came to attack the Crossroads.
She was doing well as a hunter. She smiled to herself. Hunter, who’d have thought? She was a slave freed and encouraged to step beyond her existence and reach for a dream. She was a slave given choice, and a slave given love. It was Freddian that first put a bow in her hand. It was Freddian that took her to stand for the first time in the green, green grasses. A dimple reached her blue-green cheek at that thought, remembering the feel of rich green grass soft and cool between her freshly painted toes. She looked down at her toes, the nails still polished in pink, polish that Freddian had bought for her. It was a great extravagance, and she knew it. She would never fail to appreciate the little things he did for her that meant so much.
Freddian had taken her all the way to the great Tauren city. He patiently showed her everything, everywhere. He took her hunting all the way to the most northern parts of Mulgore, and there she saw the lion. It was proud, golden, with a thick, plush mane. She knew she had to have him. He was the one, he had to be, at least a relative of the one she’d seen as a child wandering into the borders of the Barrens. He had the same tinge of red at the ends of his ruff and at the tip of his tail. How would she go about taming such a regal cat? He surely would be resistant, so used to roaming free, and he was resistant she remembered grimly while tossing the chewed leaf down and reaching for a fresh one to chew on while her mind played at the memory. Oh, she succeeded in the trap she set. The mighty lion snarled and swatted at her, and slowly, gradually, she earned his trust, and he had become loyal, but still, something had nagged at her.
Freddian was teaching her about balance, about nature. The things he said were much like the things that the shaman woman had taught her and so she easily absorbed the knowledge he imparted to her. She had always wanted a lion by her side, a special lion, one from Mulgore, but did this lion want to really be with her? Sure he was loyal, he succumbed to her control and commands, but that collar about her lion’s neck reminded her too much of the collar she wore of the Fishmonger’s. He was a good lion, smart and responsive to her commands, and though she had wanted that lion by her side, it was not his choice to be by hers. Freddian had given Danzyn a choice. She walked with Freddian, wore his collar after being given free choice to do so. She was happy. She was not happy when she wore the collar of the Fishmonger. She had realized at that moment that she had to let the Mulgore lion go.
She played once again in her mind the scene of taking the lion to Mulgore, seeing the serenity on his face when the dry earth of Barrens gave way to the green of Mulgore, and he could smell the green grasses of his home once more. She led him to a great grassy plain, and there she took the collar from his neck. Giving him a hug, and one last ruffle to his mane, she nudged him away from her, encouraged him to leave. He blinked golden eyes up at her, looked to the green plains, looked back to her. She had nodded to him, giving him his freedom, and with that he bounded off. Balance. The great lion was free and he was home. Edited by: deFafnyr at: 8/22/05 11:00 am
Re: And The Two Shall Be As One
((written by Defafnyr=poDanzyn))
Taboo
Danzyn had spent enough time lounging and had more than enough of the dry air of Barrens. Thinking of cool breezes made her feet restless and she decided to leave her shaded spot and do some traveling. She quickly made her way to the Crossroads and took flight to Orgrimmar. From there she started to run south, setting her mind in thoughtful meditation as she jogged, mulling over the changes in her life. Before Freddian, she’d never had thought of traveling on her own. She’d never had the freedom to do so. So many did not understand why she kept that collar around her neck. Everyone, whether they had a color or not had to answer to someone. Some answered to their mates, to their tribes, to Thrall, to their gods. Everyone answered to someone. If they were lucky, they had someone that cared and loved them to answer back, to care for them. No one had ever cared for her the way Freddian had. He had given her freedom. She had nowhere to go. She supposed she could have left and made it in the world herself, been free to do as she pleased, but it pleased her to be with Freddian. It pleased her to take care of him. He took care of her. He loved her.
She was more than his mate, more than his hunting partner, she was becoming a part of him and she couldn’t imagine living the rest of her life without him. People would look at her collar and chastise her, wanting her to “rise up” and take her freedom, take her life into her own hands. Well, she thought to herself as she continued running, she had already done just that. She had been given her freedom, and didn’t want to keep her life safe in her own hands. Her life and her heart were safely held in a pair of hands, one of hers and one of Freddian’s. It was balance. She was his mate, his love, his slave and his woman. She was his completely and it was where she wanted to be. No one would be able to take that away from her, she thought fiercely to herself. She would never let anyone step between her and her master she vowed, and the scowl on her face punctuated that vow. That vow echoed in her mind even after her scowl was torn from her face in shock when she realized her thoughts had kept her mind occupied all the way to Sen’jin and to the salty waters of the Dark Strand.
Now here was a piece of jungle that a Troll should have been raised in, and true enough, she had lived here for a time, but it was not a time of happy childhood like she’d had in the Barrens with the old Shaman woman. When that woman had died and Danzyn had been taken to Booty Bay to be sold, that old Fishmonger had bought her and brought her here. It was so lovely, so serene here. The cool breezes coming off the water were heavenly but heaven back then was tainted by the foul breath of a man that would take her from childhood to sudden womanhood too young and too soon. But now here she stood, her pink toenails tickled by salty waters on the beach, and there was no Fishmonger cursing at her, pawing at her, slapping her for his own clumsiness. Now here she stood, toes in the water and a cool breeze caressing her reddish golden hair, and no Fishmonger in her life. Though she was Freddian’s, she was still free, and that menat she was free to do something that the Fishmonger would never have let her do…swim across the Strand all the way to the Echo Isles and see for herself what haunted those Isles.
How exciting! She' heard so many stories about these islands. The Witch Doctor warned her of the evil voodoo that cursed those Isles at the hands of Zalazane. Were those stories true or were they tales to keep young children behaving? “You be a good child,” mothers would warn their children, “or the bad voodoo will get joo, they be sneakin’ from the Isles across the Dark Strand an’ steal you in the night!” Children would shiver, promising their mothers of good behavior, their young eyes large and dark with fear. “Well, I did not have a mother to tell me such tales and I am not bound by such taboos,” Danzyn said to herself and she continued to swim across the shallow waters of the Strand until she reached the shore of one of the smaller islands. It wasn’t much more than a rock and a tree guarded by a single raptor protecting a clutch of eggs. She backed away slowly, allowing the raptor-mother her space so her own children would not grow up without a mother. Back into the salty Strand, she swam to a larger Isle.
This one was thick with trees and ancient carved rocks standing guard. So thick with trees it was that it blocked out the now midday sun and were it not for the scent of smoky fires, she’d be unable to determine that life hid within the darkness there. Life did in fact live there, not unearthly demons, but the kind of life that cooked fish because she certainly knew that scent as it came with that smoky breeze. She carefully crept her way in tightening circle around the Isle, not directly in but slowly paralleling the beach and making her way in, carefully watching for traps. She skirted another raptor protecting a clutch of eggs and in little time caught the sound of drums sounding faintly, as though they were being slapped at softly in practice. The mumble of voices became the sound of people speaking with each other and though she could not yet make out the words, they certainly had the inflection of her own Trollish language. What a good hunter she had become, she allowed her ego to tell her mind, such a good hunter she was that she was now close enough to see that these people were indeed Trolls. And though she was such a good hunter, at least in her own mind, still there was one hunter that was just a tad bit better than Danzyn, and that hunter slowly stalked behind her.
Each step of the hunter fell soundlessly as it padded behind Danzyn. Every time Danzyn stopped, the hunter froze behind her, the hunter’s muscles slightly trembling and ready as it stared at Danzyn. Danzyn crossed a path bathed in shadow and stopped just on the other side of it to kneel beside a stone pillar. She turned back towards the path she had just crossed, unseeing the hunter watching her from where she had just been, and yet…she sensed…something. She felt a curiosity tickle her mind. She felt a question, she felt….something just beyond her reach…and suddenly the jungle exploded in sound and light. Beyond the path and closer into the small village curses rang out as shock bolts flew from the hands of masked Trolls facing her direction. Those bolts landed with blinding fury shattering rock splinters from the pillar she was hiding behind. Fire began to rain down all around her setting small fires about her as the villagers began running in her direction and she knew it was time to quickly put an end to her curiosity and to her stealth and just plain run for her life. She ran straight for the sea, barely noticing that there was another running with her, slightly behind her and to her left. As she cleared the trees at the edge of that large island’s beach she felt that touch again in her mind, but now that curious touch was colored with adrenaline and…was that a heartbeat she could hear?
She cleared the beach with only a few long strides, still sensing the runner beside her, still hearing the villagers cursing and casting magics behind her. In a long graceful leap, she and the runner both sailed through the air and they both cleanly sliced the sea, diving deep and away from the lightening and fire that continued to rain down upon them. She didn’t dare take the time to turn to see who had been running beside her, to see who now swam just off to her left. The villagers seemed to be keeping to their beach and she spared her breath as she continued to swim underwater until the Strand’s bed began to rise again into the beach of another of the Isles. Far enough to be safe, she silently let herself rise above the water. She allowed her eyes to rise above the sea to spy her situation, allowed her nose enough clearance to refresh the air in her lungs. As quietly as she rose from the water safely in the shadow of another island, the hunter that had shadowed her silently rose beside her.
Finally safe, she turned slowly to face that silent hunter. In the shadow Danzyn’s amber eyes began to glow faintly of iridescent green as she turned her gaze upon another pair of eyes…a pair of green iridescent eyes matching her own blinked back at her, eyes that matched her own, glowing softly in the shadow. These eyes, however, were in the face of a striped cat bearing reddish golden fur that nearly matched Danzyn’s own mane of hair. Together Danzyn and the tiger simply treaded water there, silently blinking at each other. A thought nudged Danzyn’s mind, not in words, but in feelings, a thought of laughter and of peace. Danzyn began to laugh, watching the tiger treading water before her, and in her mind, she heard that tiger laughing too…and in her mind, that laughter told her the tiger was a tigress, a young female like Danzyn herself.
Together they began to swim across the Strand and onto the shore marking the border of the village of Sen’jin. Together the tigress and Danzyn walked side by side. The tigress’ black striped reddish-golden fur dried in the sun as they walked. Danzyn’s long jumble of reddish-golden hair lifted in the breeze as it, too, began to dry. They walked together on the way back through Razor Hill and then to Orgrimmar, side by side, by choice, in balance. When they reached the gates of Orgrimmar, Danzyn looked down again at her new friend. Danzyn’s amber eyes started glowing faintly green down at the tigress. A matching pair of glowing green eyes looked up at Danzyn from a striped furry face. In Danzyn’s mind she could feel that tigress smiling at her as it reached to cup its wet nose into Danzyn’s hand. Danzyn couldn’t wait to introduce her new friend to her master. She hoped Freddian would like her new tigress, Taboo.
Dinner For Two
Danzyn hummed softly to herself as she worked near the fire, preparing a meal. Cooking was something she really enjoyed, and it made her master happy, too. She smiled to herself, thinking about what his reaction to the meal would be. He was always so obvious about his pleasure, or displeasure. And she loved to please him -- first of all simply because he meant so much to her, and secondly because when he was pleased, she got the benefits. Thinking about those benefits made her smile even wider, and a small blush came to her cheeks.
Just then Freddian strode in. He walked up behind her, put his arms around her, and slid his hands up under her tunic. She giggled, pressing her body back against him. He never asked permission to touch her. She was his, body and soul, and he knew it. She liked it that way. It made her feel secure and wanted. She let out an involuntary moan as his fingers pinched her in just the right way.
"What's dat you be cookin', girl?" he said into her ear, causing a little shiver to run through her body.
"Jus' a special dinner for my master," she replied, as if talking about a third person.
"Ah, well den he be a lucky mon, dat's for sure," Freddian whispered, biting on her earlobe.
"No, I be da lucky one," she whispered back, forgetting about the meal preparations for a minute.
------------------------------
After dinner, Freddian sat back happily, and picked up his glass of water. He swirled the water around, looking at it thoughtfully.
"You see dis?" he asked.
"Yes, dat be a glass of watah," Danzyn said, smirking slightly.
"Ah, da wisdom of da ancients mus' be runnin' through your veins, girl," Freddian said, smiling widely. "But really, do you know what dis is?"
Danzyn shrugged, not sure what he was getting at.
"Dis is life, and death. Dis is powah. Dis is da beginnin' of da world, and da end of it," Freddian said, nodding.
Danzyn started to make a little wisecrack, but thought better of it. When Freddian talked like that, it meant he'd been thinking about something for a while, and it usually preceded some revelation about the Shaman's powers that was about to manifest itself in his life.
Freddi was silent for a minute or two, swirling the water in the glass and looking at it intently. Danzyn watched his face, content to wait for him. She closed her eyes and listened, hearing his breathing, feeling his presence. At last he spoke again.
"I need ta take a liddle journey, again, like I did when I learned about da fire," he said, looking up at her, his eyes soft. "You are strong enough ta come, girl. You be learnin' so fast. I be very proud of you, you know dat."
She smiled, her eyes glittering and happy.
"But, even so, dis be someting I mus' do alone. I am sorry 'bout it, but dat be how tings are sometimes."
She nodded, although her smile lost a bit of its lustre.
"How long dis time, master?" she asked, trying not to let her emotions show too much. She always felt so cold and empty when he was away, but she understood that there were some things his art required of him, and there was no point in dwelling upon it.
"I am not sure. I mus' talk to da wise Shaman, Islen Waterseer, down in da Barrens. She has been callin' ta me for a while, ta learn the powah of da watah. I don' tink it will be too long. Maybe a week?"
Danzyn suppressed a shiver, forcing herself to nod and smile. A week wasn't so long, really. Not really so long at all.
Freddian was not fooled. He knew her, better than anyone else in the world had ever known her. He reached over for her hand, and pulled her into his lap.
"You jus' keep busy. Dere be plenty ta do. Focus on da trainin' and I'll be back afore you know it."
He kissed her then, deep and long, and she melted against him, feeling once more safe and secure in the knowledge that nothing could come between them. He picked her up and carried her to the bedroom, and she forgot about cleaning the dishes, forgot about him leaving, forgot about everything except belonging to him, as she surrendered once again to his desire for her.
Out in the street, an elderly troll man walking by turned, startled by the sounds emanating from a window. He listened for a moment, his eyes turning inward as he remembered something from his younger days.
"Yah, dat be da good stuff!" he said to himself, as he turned and continued along the road.
Re: The Water of Life
The old troll shaman threw more damp leaves onto the fire, causing thick smoke to rise and enshroud him and the equally old slave woman who stood next to him. He nodded, and then sat with his back against the rough bark of a tree. He gestured to the woman, who smiled and sat next to him, leaning her head on his shoulder as the smoke swirled around them. A single bird sang quietly from the branches of the tree.
"Da ancestors be callin' us, girl," the old shaman said. "It is time fer us ta be movin' on."
"I know," the woman replied, looking up into his face. She stroked his cheek for a moment, remembering his face when it was young and unwrinkled.
"Are you frightened?" he asked, tugging at her gray hair gently.
"No, master. I never be scared when I be wid you."
"We will always be togedder, girl, you know dat. Our spirits be joined forever."
The old shaman pulled his slave into his lap, wrapping his arms around her frail body. She leaned back against him with a small contented sigh. The shaman squeezed her more tightly.
"It's been a good life," he said quietly.
"And dis be a good death, too," she replied. "Always togedder, I belong ta you."
The shaman began chanting, speaking ancient words of wisdom and power, and the smoke grew more and more dense. The two figures seemed to melt as the haze engulfed them. The sky darkened and a wild wind began to blow. The dark smoke swirled faster and faster, spinning in a silent whirlpool around the place where they sat. The sound of the shaman's voice became one with the wind as the smoke slowly dissipated, leaving just an empty clearing with a single bird, still singing quietly in the tree.
-------------------------------------------
Freddian sat before the High Shaman, trying to absorb the latest teaching.
"You mus' feel da spirit of da wolf, you mus' be dat spirit, and let your mind and body become part of dat spirit. Try now, young shaman. You are ready for dis."
Freddian nodded and stood, closing his eyes and concentrating his thoughts. He spoke the incantation, allowing his mind and his body to flow into the words, surrendering his very essence to the canine spirit he called upon. He could feel his body flowing, almost like water, shifting and changing shape and structure, and he did his best not to fight it. His ears became suddenly sensitive, and he could hear more clearly than he ever remembered. There was an ant crawling across the sand nearby, its tiny footsteps sounding like a small army to him now. He opened his eyes, and looked straight into the knees of the High Shaman. Freddian blinked, surprised for a moment, and then looked up. He began to speak, but as he opened his mouth he noticed that he could see his snout, covered with translucent fur. A surge of exhiliration ran through him as he realized he had succeeded at last. He raised his head and howled a joyful howl.
"Dere you go, young shaman. Well done. Now, use dis new knowledge wisely. You will be swift in this form, able to outrun most dangers, but you cannot cast spells unless you return to your normal form."
The High Shaman smiled, pleased with the progress of his student.
"Now, you already know your next task. It has been callin' ta you. Go see Islen Waterseer, in da Barrens."
Freddian bowed as best as he could in his ghostly wolf body, and ran off on four swift legs.
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Islen turned out to be a wise and powerful Tauren shaman. She greeted Freddian by name, as if she had always known him. He bowed, asking no questions, knowing that she would speak whatever was required.
"If there is one lesson you must learn of water, Freddian, it is this: water means rebirth. Its power flows, erodes, and makes clean all manner of things. You will find its ability to heal and replenish incomparable, but only when it is pure. Water, when polluted, can devastate all that it touches. You must understand how vital a resource water is.
Go now to find the orc shaman, Brine, deep in the Southern Barrens. She will help you to gain the water sapta, which will allow you to see the spirits of the water, and perhaps gain control over the power of water for yourself."
Freddian nodded, thanking Islen for her time and her wisdom. He shifted into ghost wolf form and ran toward the deserts of the Southern Barrens.
As he ran, he thought of Danzyn, and wondered what she was doing. It had only been a single day, and yet he missed her more than he had even expected. What was it about her, he asked himself. Ever since she had come into his life, there had been a feeling of completeness about it, as if they were destined to be together. She seemed to understand him naturally, as though they had known each other a very long time. But it had been less than a year now since that fateful card game.
And that was the other thing. How did he come to win that game in the first place. He was so bad at cards. And yet...it had happened, as if some outside force was pulling the strings.
Well, he thought, it didn't matter. The ancestors would reveal everything to him in time, and he trusted in their wisdom and judgement. For now, he was simply the happiest troll alive.
"I mus' finish dis task as quick as I can," he said to himself. "Den I can get back home, where my girl be waitin'."
With that thought, he picked up his pace, racing silently on four ghostly feet toward the Southern Barrens.
The Fires of Death
The grass was on fire, smoke rising and drifting across the sky in a black smog of death. Birds circled overhead, trying to escape the flames, while small animals rushed madly, screeching in tiny voices as the flames overtook them. Larger creatures managed to stay ahead of the flames, as they were driven ever close to the cliff face. The shouts of hunters filled the air as they followed along behind the fires, waving spears.
A massive red-maned lion crouched in what tall grass still remained. Next to him, a golden-furred female softly growled her frustration. They were trapped, and both knew it. The lioness looked at her mate, waiting, as always, for his leadership. Should they turn and face the flames and the hunters? It was certain death, but what choice did they have? The lion raised his head and roared his defiance, the sound filling the air. The hunters seemed to grow silent for a moment, awed by the strength and power of that mighty roar.
The two felines faced each other for a moment, looking into each others' yellow-orange eyes. The lion snarled his command, and the lioness moved to follow him. Where he went, she went, no question, no hesitation.
The hunters screamed in surprise and anger as the two cats suddenly charged from the grass, headed away from the hunters, directly toward the edge of the cliff. A collective gasp went up as the lions leaped, their bodies arching into the air, up, up, up, and then down, over the cliff, falling to the jagged rocks below.
The hunters slowly shuffled up to the edge of the cliff and looked down. Far beneath them, two tiny crushed bodies could be seen. There would be no lion feast tonight.
A much needed breeze lifted the ends of Danyx’s long white hair from her back as she sat motionless in the sweltering heat. The breeze ruffled the mane of the snow-white lion that sat patiently beside the night elf from their place on the high rock overlooking the fishing hole at such a distance that Danyx, once again, needed her ornate spyglass to make out the details of those she watched. Nearly half a mile away, she looked down at the child she walked away from nearly twenty years ago, and for twenty long years she’d watched that child grow up, always at a distance, always through this spyglass. The Seer had told her it had to be so, it was best for this child, it was this child’s destiny to be at this place and at this time, and so it had to be.
Danzyn had met the mage before, and was intimidated enough the first time. Finding the same powerful woman suddenly standing at her back was enough to send chills of fear racing the length of her spine, leaving a sickly, scared knot in her stomach.
“What are you doing walking about freely, alone? Where is your master?” Kirani had demanded of her.
“My Master told me to keep myself busy while he was away, so I am fishing for his dinner,” Danzyn had replied, her face turned respectfully down.
The conversation continued for several minutes, Kirani demanding and threatening, Danzyn answering respectfully, hoping to not show too much fear. She couldn’t blame Kirani for hating night elves, she had every right to. Danzyn had seen enough of them, herself, attacking Crossroads and Tarren Mills on her travels with her Master, Freddian. That Kirani could smell nightelf within Danzyn was worrisome at best.
Once again, the slave collar on Danzyn’s neck had saved her life. Kirani was straight forward in telling Danzyn that were she not someone’s property she would have killed her on sight. Even so, she warned that if she ever caught Danzyn again, walking freely about without being under her Master’s watchful supervision, she would put an end to her life. Whenever Freddian had to leave, as he did from time to time on shaman business, or in defending Warsong, he always bade her to keep busy, work on her skills, both in hunting and in her studies in engineering. How could she obey Freddian’s commands and not run into Kirani again? What was she to do next time she found herself face-to-face and alone with this powerful mage? Kirani’s hatred of night elves was fierce, and she smelled the taint of elf on Danzyn.
Danzyn had no concrete proof of what she was. The shamaness, Wandasha, who raised her would neither confirm nor deny the race of the woman that had brought her as a baby to the shamaness. Her mistress would only give her a name, Danyx. Wandasha had been a kind mistress, treating Danzyn almost like her own child, but still, she carefully instructed Danzyn on how to act as a slave, to know her place should company or patients come calling to the farm for healing and potions. Wandasha had many such visits to her farm, healing many, many of their neighbors so Danzyn had lots of practice. She knew when she could be relaxed and when she must show her place. This lesson was not taught to Danzyn unkindly, and it was explained to her that she would certainly have freed the child, but being what Danzyn was made it dangerous for her to be free. The shaman mistress warned Danzyn of people in the world, people like the mage she had just met, who would smell the taint on her and kill her on sight. Yes, that collar was a mark of shame to some people. To Danzyn, it was a life-vest that kept her alive and safely under the protection of whoever owned her and claimed her as theirs. She was happy Freddian had claimed her now as his, however it came to be.
Danzyn considered all this, after the encounter with Kirani, walking slowly home with her fishing pole resting against her shoulder, her catch hanging from her other hand. She suspected Kirani was right. She had always suspected, herself, that she might be half elven and it had nagged at her the whole of her life. She had to know for sure. She had to see the woman who bore her with her own eyes and confirm what she was so she could put it to rest and put it behind her. She had a name to search for. She had strong suspicions as to the race of her maternal parent. Perhaps it was finally time she went looking for that confirmation. She nodded to herself as she made that decision and started walking with more purpose, plans starting to form in her mind.
The fish was prepared and ready to serve Freddian as he walked into their small apartment in Orgrimmar. He greeted her, as always, with a tight hug and a warm kiss. He looked down on her uplifted face, sensing trouble in her eyes.
“What be bodderin’ you, mah danzyn-queen?” Freddian asked her.
She moved away from him, motioning for him to sit and relax, have his dinner. She sat with him and related what had happened, and what her thoughts were. He nodded as she explained, always attentive, not just hearing but listening as well, a trait too rarely found these days in people, she noted to herself, yet another reason in a long list to love the man she called “Master.”
It bothered Freddian that Kirani had threatened his slave. He had talked to Kirani at length earlier and had thought they had come to an understanding.
“Well, it is settled, den. Ah don’ care ‘bout who yo’ mudder or fadda be, but Ah know it be importan’ to you, to settle your mind. To know for sure what yah are is to know exactly where yah stand in dis world. We will go find dis woman, dis Danyx. We will find out if da part o’ you dat not be troll, be elfie or whaddever. Den you will know for sure. But I be wonderin’ what will yah do when yah face da woman, eh?”
It was but a few days when Freddian got news from his contacts. The local information broker had news from Ratchet tracing a night elf woman named Danyx spending time in South Shore on some kind of holiday. He said getting the information wasn’t easy; that this Danyx person had a reputation for disappearing for long periods of time and it was pure luck that she was found this time.
Freddian and Danzyn packed what things they’d need and traveled for the second time in Danzyn’s young life to the great Undercity, this time with her pet, Taboo, in tow. Replenishing their supplies there and dealing with Taboo’s airsickness from the zeppelin ride, Freddian mercifully fed Taboo a draught to ease the poor Durator-tiger’s stomach and the three of them took a short flight into Hillsbrand.
They landed in Tarren Mills, right in the middle of yet another siege against Horde territory. The humans insisted on encroaching farther and farther into Horde land and had been relentless of late in Tarren Mills. The numbers of Alliance to Horde was astounding and Danzyn and Freddian called through their Windstone to their fellow guild mates within the Crusaders of the Horde for help. It was with great relief when the mountain of a tauren named Malonik arrived and they cheered till they were hoarse as they watched Malonik smear human blood deep into the roadway and fields near the mill.
The battle over and Alliance bones baking in the sun, the shaman Freddian and the huntress Danzyn with her tiger, Taboo, continued on their search. They had a description in hand. To Danzyn one night elf looked much like another, but the description and picture that had been sent by Freddian’s informant said the first thing that would set her apart from the other nightelves is that she was always accompanied by a snow-white lion with blue eyes, a cub of Echeyakee. The trio got lost; missing the turn to South Shore but soon realized their mistake. They were just turning around near the Hillsbrad fields when they saw her…a tall white haired night elven woman with a snow-white lion standing at the edge of an orchard on the north side of the road.
The woman’s hair was long, the wispy tips touching the small of her back like as the description had noted. When she turned, even at a distance, they could see the glow of her eyes. They were pale, like all the other night elves, but this particular night-elf’s eyes glowed with a tint of emerald green, much like the green that would shine through Danzyn’s eyes when she’d catch her own reflection in mirror or a pool. Before the night elf turned away, still unseeing the trio that watched her, Danzyn caught the last distinguishing mark that the informant had noted on the written description. This night elf wore a brief tunic that ended at the bottom of her rib cage, and her leggings were slung low on her hips, revealing a dark red birthmark on the right side of her belly between her naval and her hipbone. The mark was shaped in the form of a red dragon, and it matched the mark on Danzyn that rested on her own belly, just inside the curve of her right hipbone. Danzyn continued to watch the night elf, entranced. The woman moved with confident grace beside the graceful white lion. Even the act of her reaching up to the tree to pluck an apple was a fluid movement, like a ribbon caught in a slow and lazy breeze.
While Danyx was oblivious to Danzyn, her lion was not. The white lion, Shadah, turned lazy blue eyes to the trio and looked them over, one by one. He sensed no danger to his huntress at present and so he continued to watch the younger huntress and her mate, finally resting his bored blue eyes at the brilliant green eyes of Taboo. If cats could smile, they would have done so, but as they could not, they each sat, passively waiting, acknowledging each other with a nod. Unless either of their mistresses called them to attack, they would contently sit there and be watchful. Until that time, if it came, large white Shadah and young striped Taboo, would just sit comfortably where they were, blue eyes blinking at green, green eyes shimmering at blue.
Danzyn watched the woman, the woman who had dropped her off at the shamaness’ house some nineteen, almost twenty years ago. This was the woman who couldn’t bear to raise her, Danzyn thought. All the talk by Alliance of love and peace and acceptance of their brother, and here was an Alliance woman who could not accept a child with wedged feet, a child that was born to grow tusks. This was the woman who abandoned her.
Danzyn’s anger simmered, thoughts and words were caught in her throat, choked with emotion, as she started moving towards the woman. She got nearly four long steps towards this graceful woman when the woman whose name was Danyx turned into the orchard suddenly and started clucking like a chicken. It wasn’t soft clucking like a mother makes towards a child, but loud “bak-baak-bucaww,” accompanied by strutting on a pair of small graceful elven feet. Danzyn stopped in shock, her mouth wide open. No wonder this woman dumped her off. She was crazy! Danzyn looked over her shoulder at Freddian with a questioning gaze, and then turned back to her mother. She tilted her head in disbelief and shook her head and blinked. She looked again. Danyx was still clucking, in fact it appeared like she was trying to talk to a small chicken that was scratching at the elf’s feet. Danyx thrust her hands under her armpits and started flapping her elbows, her small feet pawing at the ground, “bak-baak-bucawww”.
“That’s it, definitely crazy,” Danzyn thought to her self and gave such a look over her shoulder at Freddian. As Danzyn turned back to Danyx, the crazy elf suddenly bent over to the chicken she was apparently “communing” exposing her petite elven butt in Danzyn’s direction. All the things Danzyn had wanted to say to this woman, all the questions she had were suddenly gone and all she could see was that little, graceful, crazy elven butt bent over in front of her. Danzyn, being a slave, learned early on to be a practical girl, and what does a practical trollish girl do when faced with a round elven butt in her face? She took two more steps towards the woman and planted her big wide wedge-shaped foot right in the middle of it.
“Pivj!!” screamed Danyx as she toppled over. Sensing no danger and receiving no command, Shadaki calmly kept his post, unmoving except for the shiver of his mane which might have been laughter at his mistress if anyone could have believed a cat could laugh. Danzyn, not knowing any of the alliance languages assumed that “pivj” meant “ouch” or some type of elven swear word. Danzyn didn’t even bother with a reply. She simply stared down with green-glowing eyes at the now muddy elf on the ground who stared back at her, wide-eyed with matching green-glowing eyes. Mother and daughter, stared at each other for a few moments. The white lion and the striped tiger stared at each other, waiting and ready should commands they hear commands to attack. Giving Danyx a dirty look, but not giving the woman the privilege of a single word from her, Danzyn reached down and picked up the chicken that now circled Danyx where she sat on the ground and took it away from the crazy elf. Turning on her heel, Danzn stomped off, leaving the orchard and her mother behind her, Freddian and Taboo at her sides, a white chicken under her arm.
All those years of wondering where she had come from, who or what was she, well she knew now. It was confirmed. And now that little nagging voice that seeped at her insecurities in the dark of the night would finally be squelched and would leave her alone. What she was, was no longer a mystery and would now stay in her past. Knowing for sure what she was gave her a foundation she could deal with now that there was no mystery in it. As a child, she was a product of what had produced her. The woman that she was to become, however, would be of her own making, and she would make it with this man, her man, Freddian.
Re: And The Two Shall Be As One
Freddian lay awake, his eyes closed, his fingers gently caressing the body of his slave girl, Danzyn, who lay beside him asleep. Her warm female scent drifted into his nostrils, mixed with the slight smell of whatever spices were in their dinner, as she breathed slowly and peacefully. Freddian grinned, remembering how she had looked just a short time ago, as her body shook and convulsed with intense pleasure. How he loved being the instrument of that pleasure. As time went on, Freddian learned more and more what it took to drive her mad with desire, and he played her body like a maestro, always seeking to maximize her ecstasy. She had a very high pain threshold, and he had learned how to push her to the edge, and not beyond -- to that intense and wonderful place where her pleasure was the most intense and she lost herself compeletly in his touch. Tonight he had succeeded especially well, and her noisy euphoria had no doubt awakened the neighbors for some distance around. Not that he cared much about that. His focus was on her, as it should be.
She was his slave. He was her master. To many, their relationship was hard to fathom. Most people expected a slave to be unhappy with their lot, seeking for freedom. But Danzyn was clearly very happy, and that puzzled them. When they asked her about it, she was very forthright about having no desire to leave Freddian, but he wasn't sure she could really articulate the reason. Freddian himself was only just beginning to understand what made their relationship so special, and unusual.
"It be all about da balance, mon," Freddian whispered to the darkened room.
Freddian understood balance. As a shaman, he worked with the forces of the earth and nature, bending them to his will. Yet he knew in a deep and spiritual way that those forces had to be balanced. He was at his most powerful when he worked in harmony with the earth, rather than against it. It was his understanding of balance that made the relationship he had with his slave so different from the one that most masters had with theirs.
A typical slavemaster viewed his slaves as lesser beings, fit only to serve his own desires. Their desires were meaningless, and their needs were only met in order to continue their existence, to serve him longer. This created the deep unhappiness that most slaves exhibited. They lived, but their own dreams and desires were left unsatisfied and unattainable. No one can be happy like that. Even the slave master was unhappy, if the truth be told. A man is as he thinks, and the constant arrogance of command, the constant ignoring of the needs of another, took its toll on the master's heart, rendering it as cold and dark as the inside of a stone. And so the master would try to compensate by becoming ever more cruel, until in the end the master was nothing more than a servant of evil. And so, the master became the slave.
Freddian understood all this at an instinctive level. He saw Danzyn not as a thing to be commanded, but as a precious person to be nurtured and taught. Oh, he expected her to obey, certainly, but his orders to her had as much to do with her own well-being as his. He remembered how she had looked that first day, when he won her from the fishmonger. She was thin, dressed in raggedy clothing, and smelled strongly of dead fish. But even then he had seen past her exterior, and sensed something special inside. And since that day, he had worked with her to bring it out.
Week after week of training, hunting, fighting and exploring had passed since then. It had been hard on Danzyn in some ways, but she had risen to the task, throwing herself into her duties with intelligence and fervor. Once she had been weak compared to Freddian, but now her skill and strength rivaled his own. Now they progressed together, able to journey side by side into whatever danger might confront them.
The grimy urchin was gone, replaced by a stunning huntress, strong and skilled with her tools, a huge orange tiger at her side. She had become Freddian's most trusted ally, and together they traveled the lands of Azeroth, fighting and learning and growing in power, serving the Horde and doing their best to right the wrongs in the world.
And there were many wrongs in the world.
As their reputations grew, they were sought out by others who had needs. Freddian remembered how humbled he had been when the mighty Thrall himself, Warchief of the orcs, had called them into his presence.
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Thrall had tasked them with infiltrating the ranks of the Searing Blade, a demonic cult that was causing problems. Together, he and Danzyn had followed clues that lead them deep into the Ragefire Chasm, a sulphurous place filled with evil. They had triumphed, and Freddian chuckled as he remembered the look on the face of those foul leaders, Bazzlan and Jergosh, when they realized that they were not going to win against these two trolls who had surprisingly managed to fight their way into the hidden lair.
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Presenting their heads to Thrall had been one of Freddian's finest moments, but even then he had shared it willingly with Danzyn. They were so much stronger together than apart, and Freddian knew this deeply.
And other tasks had followed. They had spoken to the queen of the Forsaken, Sylvanus.
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They had traveled to the top of Dreadmist Peak, and destroyed the altar built to demons there.
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They had journeyed deep into the Wailing Caverns, eventually discovering the truth about the foul corruption that lived within. They had sought out and slain the dreaded fanglords, including the vicious Serpentis himself.
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All this they had done together, just the two of them. And Freddian knew it was only the beginning of what they could accomplish.
He rolled onto his side and let his fingers trace the soft warm curves of Danzyn's sleeping body. They were master and slave, male and female, two halves of a greater whole. The balance was perfect.
In a small room at the top of a high tower, someone hunched over a scrying bowl, peering into it with obvious interest. The cowled figure spoke quietly to herself as she continued to observe.
Freddian sat quietly, eyes closed, meditating before a small fire. Danzyn had told him of her dreams, and he felt certain that there was more to them than simply random images and feelings. He knew very well that some dreams could have spiritual meanings, and hers had all the marks of those kind of dreams. Perhaps the spirits of the ancestors were trying to tell her something. He sought confirmation, and let his mind reach out, his awareness drifting into another plane.
After some time, he opened his eyes. There was one sure way of getting some answers, but Danzyn would have to agree. He rose, and went to find her. At this time of day, she'd probably be fishing. Her tiger, Taboo, had a voracious appetite, and the easiest way to fill the cat's needs was with fish.
Freddian came up beside Danzyn as she stood on the docks of Booty Bay. He paused for a moment to drink in the sight. She was so beautiful, he thought, her golden hair reflecting the sunlight. He watched the muscles of her arms ripple slightly beneath her smooth skin as she landed a large cod.
"Danzyn," Freddian said softly.
She turned and smiled, her small tusks glinting for a moment.
"Master! I am done wid da fishin',now. You have some adventurin' in mind for taday?"
Freddian nodded and smiled.
"Yah, of course. But dere is someting special I tink we mus' do, before we do dat."
"Oh?," she inquired, raising her eyebrows. "I like da sound of dat! What special ting!"
Freddian grinned at her enthusiasm.
"Oh, dem dreams you been havin', I wan' ta find out more about dem. I tink it be time for you and me ta enter da Dreamin' togedder."
Danzyn looked puzzled. "Da Dreamin'? What dat be?"
"Well," Freddian replied, "it be a way fer us ta go inta da dreams and look around, see what da spirits be tryin' ta tell you, mebbe. At least, we might get a clue about what dis all means."
"Okey dokey, if dat what you tink is best, den sure! What do we do?" It was clear from her expression that Danzyn was ready to do whatever Freddian thought they should do.
"Getcher tings and we go ta SilverPine. Dere is a spot dere, a shrine where da water spirits dwell. It be a secret place, nobody goes dere but shamans. It not be on da map, even."
"Oooh!" Danzyn grinned. She loved it when Freddian shared things like this with her, as he had been doing more and more. "I just put dese fish away, den I be ready!"
She returned shortly with her hunting equipment, Taboo by her side. Freddian appraised her approvingly. Truthfully, he was coming to rely more and more upon her abilities. As a team, they were increasingly effective, and able to fare very well in quite dangerous areas. He felt confident that they would be able to accomplish whatever it was that destiny had planned for them.
Freddian gestured toward the flight master, and off they went.
When they arrived at The Sepulchre, in the heart of the SilverPine forest, Freddian prepared himself with a few protective spells. He wasn't expecting any real danger at this point, but anytime they ventured away from civilization he took no chances. They made their way north, and then west to the coast. A few random werewolves attacked them on the way, but they were scrawny beasts and easily dispatched. When they reached the shoreline, Freddian gestured out across the waters.
"What do you see, Danzyn?" he asked.
"I see da ocean, miles of ocean," she replied, breathing deeply of the sea air. "It be very pretty here."
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Freddian nodded, smiling. "Da Dreamin' is like da mists of da ocean, fillin' da air. Come on den, we be nearly dere."
They traveled south again along the coast, leaving their footprints in the sand, until they came to a small, undefined pathway. Following the path a short ways inland they arrived at a clearing. There was a large stone icon there, with a symbol of some kind inscribed on the surface. A small altar fire was burning with a magical fire that never went out.
Freddian sat before the fire, motioning to Danzyn to do the same.
"I will put dese herbs on da fire," he said, pulling a small pouch from his belt and reaching inside it. "When da smoke comes up, just breathe it in, and close your eyes. We will be transported inta da Dreamin'. You will see me dere, and we will walk da dreams togedder."
Freddian looked deep into Danzyn's eyes, seeing her complete trust in him there.
"You be ready?"
"Yah, I be ready," she said quietly.
Freddian placed the leaves on the fire, and a dense smoke arose. The two of them sat side by side, eyes closed, breathing deeply, and surrendered themselves to the Dreaming.
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To Danzyn it seemed as if she nodded off for a minute or two. When she opened her eyes, she didn't recognize her surroundings, and she stood up quickly, reaching for her blades. Everything appeared washed out and colorless, and she scanned the area quickly, looking for danger. A movement caught her eye and she spun to face it, a relieved smile touching her lips as she recognized Freddian. She peered at him, suddenly realizing that she could see through him somewhat.
"You be a ghost, Master?" she whispered.
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"No, dis jus' be da Dreamin'," he grinned back. "So, you recognize dis place?" He gestured to the surroundings.
Danzyn turned around slowly, taking in the place. It was a jungle of some kind, with huge trees, swaying leaves, and lush grass. She nodded to Freddian.
"Yah, dis looks like da places I been seein' in my dreams, all right. But I don' know where it be."
Freddian shrugged. "Well, dats what we be goin' ta find out. While we be in da Dreaming, we can move around and see tings, but only tings dat don' move much. Trees, plants, buildings...but we won' see any creatures or people, and we can't touch anyting or change anyting. We can jus' look. If you see someting dat you recognize, or dat seems ta mean someting to ya, den you tell me. Okey dokey?"
Danzyn nodded, eyes wide in awe. Freddian led the way, and they began to travel through the jungle.
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Many of the things they saw made them both gasp in wonder. There were enormous trees, glittering lakes, strange buildings with a gnomish or goblin look to them, and huge glittering waterfalls. But none of these had been part of Danzyn's nighttime dreams. They traveled a long way down a jungle path, until they came to a large river. A rickety rope bridge spanned the gap, and they crossed. Coming around a curve, they suddenly stopped in their tracks.
"Dis place! I seen dis place in my dreams! " Danzyn cried, pointing up. "It be a...bad place," she continued, her expression troubled.
Rising before them was a huge stairway, made of stones and carved with ancient writing. Skulls adorned the sides of the stairs, and at the top lay an altar, open to the sky.
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"What is dis place, Master? Do you know? You seen it before?"
Freddian shook his head, frowning as if trying to recall something.
"No...I don' tink I know dis place, but it be a place of great power, dat much be for sure. Some tribe be livin' here, I betcha. Dem buildin's look like Troll architecture. And dat altar... dat be a sacrificial altar. Dere only one place dat I know dat could hold dis place, though. Yah, only one place."
"Where, Master? What place?" Danzyn asked, coming up to stand close to him.
"Stranglethorn," he said. "Dis must be in Stranglethorn. I tink it be time fer us ta go dere for real, girl. Dere be someting waitin' for us dere. And it be important."
As Freddian spoke those words, the landscape seemed to shimmer for a moment, and then it faded into blackness. As she looked up, Danzyn could see the sky swirling above her, seeming to disappear into a black hole in the heavens.
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She opened her eyes and was back in the small clearing, sitting before the fire. The sun had moved across the sky, and she knew that they had been in the Dreaming for some hours. Freddian opened his eyes, then, and smiled at her.
"What does it all mean, Master?" she asked, as he pulled her into his lap and held her close.
"I don' know, Danzyn. But we is going ta find out. I tink we will keep a room for a while in Booty Bay. Den we can explore da jungle of Stranglethorn, until we find dis place we saw. Mebbe once we find it, da meanin' will become clear. It mus' have someting ta do with da past, or da ancestors would not be sendin' you dis vision."
He hugged her tight for a moment and then drew back to look directly into her eyes.
"And dere is someting else, too."
She gave him a questioning look.
"Dat place. At first, I didn' recognize it, but...I tink I dreamed of it, myself, once. I forgot about it, until now. I tink it holds some secret dat mattahs to both of us."
"We will find out, together!" Danzyn replied firmly, although her eyes betrayed her slight fear.
"Of course we will!" Freddian agreed, leaning forward and kissing her. "We always do, girl. We always do."
Re: And The Two Shall Be As One
Freddian felt a bit unsettled. The Dreaming he had experienced with Danzyn had raised more questions than it answered. He was certain that there was meaning in it all, but what that meaning was remained unclear. He kept seeing that sacrificial altar in his mind. The more he thought about it, the more sure he was that he had seen it before, and yet he had never been to Stranglethorn.
"Mebbe I be seein' dat place in da past, before dis life," he thought to himself. "If dat be da case, den someting powerful musta happened dere for me ta still remember it. Someting dat was nevah finished. Someting dat still needs ta be dealt wid."
He frowned slightly, concentrating on the image of the altar in his memory, trying to bring it to life. But try as he might, the memory would not expand. He had the feeling that there was something there, just out of his reach, but he was unable to retrieve it.
He looked down at the back of his right hand, absently rubbing what looked like an odd tattoo. He peered at the pattern as he rubbed it, wondering as he had from time to time where it had come from. The image had been on the back of his hand always, but as a child he had never asked about it, nor had his adoptive family ever taken much notice of it. But lately it had been bothering him, tingling, sort of. Probably just age, he thought. But then again...he decided to do some research on the symbol. Maybe it had a meaning, and wasn't just a birthmark or decoration, after all.
Danzyn checked again on Taboo in the corner of the large room she shared with her master, Freddian. They had moved into quite a large room now, one that took up an entire floor within the tall house that their landlady owned. The striped tiger was quite comfortable nestled in her favorite spot, curled around her new cubs. Danzyn sighed with mixed feelings. Taboo could instantly communicate an emotion to her, alert her to trouble, warn of her danger, put her wet nose in her hand to remind her that she was loved. There was no doubt what a gift that empathic bond between them was. Unfortunately, however, Taboo being female, she was bound to go into heat sometime or another. Sometime or another had come now and Taboo had newborn cubs to attend to. Unfortunately, that meant that Danzyn would be without a hunting pet.
“Well since we be often away from home, someone has tah watch da place, guard da tings. Yah, Taboo, ya will do nicely as house cat and will always have a place here tah warmly greet us each night when we be returnin’,” said softly to Taboo. Taboo answered with a purr as she nudged a slow-poke cub in position to nurse with its siblings. Danzyn nodded her head with her decision. Taboo would be watch-cat, keep their home safe while caring for her cubs. Danzyn would have to go searching for another pet, “perhaps,” she thought to herself, “perhaps dis next one should be male.”
It was late, soon it would be night and Danzyn was restless. Freddian was gone defending Arathi Basin. She didn’t like sleeping alone without him. The dreams were bad enough when he was beside her, but they were beyond nightmarish without him here to comfort her. Besides, there were other animals she needed to tame for a time, learn from them and set them free so she could take the things she learned and teach them to Taboo. Perhaps one of them would be suitable for a more permanent hunting pet. She decided she would make herself busy this evening with hunter work. Besides, sleeping was over-rated anyway.
She took a flight quick from Orgrimmar and landed in the Crossroads. She liked to jog when she needed to think, or to run away from her thoughts. She watched the last rays of the sun drop behind the mountains, took a deep breath of the arid breeze, and set her feet to stirring the dust of the barren road south once again. This time her path veered a bit to the east and though she hadn’t given it much thought, catching the tang of a salty sea in the air confirmed that she had drifted towards the coast and was likely near Ratchet. Danzyn’s mind went completely blank of thought; relaxed she kept jogging, leaving thoughts and worries behind her on the earth as she ran. Before long she found herself on the edge of a cliff. To her back she could hear the muffled noises of lions lazing under a larger tree. In front of her, the ocean methodically beat its waves against the coast. Down and to the right of her view lay the few lights in the small houses of Ratchet. As soon as she stopped there to catch her breath, the troubles she’d thought to still caught up with her. The dreams of that place in Stranglethorn Vale were coming more frequently now that she and Freddian had actually gone to see the jungle with their own eyes. Looking again down on Ratchet, her eyes glazed on the torches lighting the small port-town’s paths. In her mind the torches lit a shadowy jungle and in her mind she could hear the pounding of drums. Feet pounded as people danced around her, their voices chanting around her as they circled. She saw herself, and yet it was not herself, tied spread-eagle on a stone slab, a voodoo priest’s face hidden behind a grotesque mask. The chanting ever increasing until it reached a cresendo, she felt terror as an ornate blade twinkled in the torchlight as the voodoo priest plunged it towards her and she heard herself screaming again inside. The screaming turned into screeching and she startling herself with her waking-dream, looking up to see an owl screeching as it dove in the air over her. She shivered and then shook the memory from her head. Her mind began to focus on the here and now, seeing the torches in Ratchet as simple street torches once again, and with a last gaze at the sea under a brightly moonlit sky, she turned to take up her jogging once more.
It’s funny the tricks that night can give to one. Children see a bogeyman in the nighttime shadow of what by day is a treasured stuffed furbolg. Grown men see feared ghosts. Drunks see long dead lovers return. Danzyn saw a shadow. It was as if the tree that sheltered those lions had extended its shadow in the moonlight, reaching out a shadowy arm to give chase, and then it separated itself from the shadows of its fellow limbs. She caught it from the corner of her eye, and then dismissed it as one of those fanciful shadows as it suddenly dissipated. “Da shadah’s be playin’ tricks on yah, girlie. Don’t be lettin’ dem get to yah,” she whispered to herself as goose bumps raced the length of her spine. She shook them off and continued her run, this time heading for one of the oasis.
She spent some time terrorizing the Kolkar centaurs, even stealing one of their pack hound hyenas for a time. She tamed it, worked with it. She named it Mr. Buttons for its cute button eyes. It was a cute pup, making the cutest little yips and he was quite eager to please, but in a short while she thought to let it go. It would never do to bring home a pet that tended to have fleas, and this little guy certainly had them already the way he scratched. She also feared bringing a hyena into a home that had newborn cat cubs. She turned to pat Mr. Buttons to send him on his way back to the centaurs when she saw the shadow again. There were many shadows at night in the oasis but this one stood out quite clearly, suddenly against the rock wall that marked the Wailing Caves. She pretended not to notice it, whispering her goodbye to the hyena. The shadow moved as though alive, as though breathing, and for an instance there seemed to be eyes. At least she thought she’d seen eyes. No, certainly she was imagining things. The dreams she’d been having had her on edge, especially now that those dreams refused to wait until her slumber to raise themselves in her mind She looked again at the shadow, there were no eyes, and it dissolved so slowly that she now wasn’t quite sure she hadn’t imagined the whole thing. The hyena bounded off happily. “It jus’ be shadah’s girlie,” she whispered to herself and began again her jog again into the night.
She knew she should be home sleeping, but sleeping without Freddian, with him away, the dreams were hard enough when she was awake with them. She knew she could not bear to have one of the more intense ones without him there to comfort her, so she continued taming pets, learning from them. And so she continued to jog from place to place, occasionally hearing in her mind the sound of voodoo warriors dancing around a sacrificial slab to the beat of her own feet pounding on the barren dirt as she jogged. Her mind would hear the chanting. Her heart would pound with the screaming. She kept trying to push the memories from her mind as she studied a wolf in Mulgore, then a bear. She studied a spider, a scorpid. She had even studied a flying snake just near the Great Lift. Every now and then, she’d turn and there’d be that shadow. Sometimes it would blink at her with those imagined eyes. She was just starting to question the sanity of her senses when her master called to her through his hearthstone. He was coming home! He had flown in on the Zeppelin and was now flying to Crossroads and bade her to meet him. She had found herself once again on the coast but south of Ratchet near Fray Isle. She began running north to meet him. The waking dream that had chased her all night kept itself more distant with the warm thought of Freddian comforting her. As she ran parallel to the coast, the moon cast her own shadow against the rock sides beside her as she ran. Another shadow chased her. She would one minute dismiss the shadow as fanciful imaginations and the next worry at what she thought was the sound of a runner’s breath close behind her. Her nerves were nearly at the edge with the games the moon’s shadows had played with her this night, but the dawn was just starting to warm the horizon, a pink sky just lightening the air over the sea.
It was with great relief that she saw the shape of Freddian running towards her on the road before her, the night’s chill ever fading to the warmth of a promised sunrise. She reached him and bounded into his arms, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck as his arms enveloped her with all the love her universe could hold. Slowly their embrace loosened, and she stepped back. Her face started to gaze up to Freddian with a smile, a smile that froze on her face as the shadow appeared just in her view just behind and to the right of Freddian. She motioned to Freddian. Reading her, he slowly turned to see what she was staring at. There in the path it sat, under the fading moonlight, a shadow where no shadow could be, out in the open where there was nothing to cast shadow from. It sat there blinking green eyes at them both. The shadows of the night gave way as the first true ray of light raced across the ground towards them. The true shadows of the night dissipated in the glorious light but it did not dispel the shadow that had followed her all night. The ray of the first day’s light lit one dark paw. The light rose up the shadow’s legs to light a strong chest, a black mane, a firm muzzle and finally lit green eyes that glinted to Danzyn as it stood watching them in the newly born day. This was no shadow, it was a lion of legend, a cub of Humar, and it had spent its evening playing with one lone troll huntress, reading her, judging her, deciding if this mere troll was worthy of its proud presence.
Danzyn’s empathy with animals took in the black lion’s attitude all at once now that she realized that this shadow that followed her all night was indeed, an animal. Proud, haughty, judging her of all things, the nerve. "Jus' like a man," Danzyn thought with a quirk of her brow. "Be it two legged or four, jus' like a man." She crossed her arms across her chest and asked the lion, “Well!?! Did I pass your inspection, oh king of da Barrens?” Not waiting for an answer, Danzyn and Freddian turned and started the walk back to Crossroads so they could catch a flight back to their home in Orgrimmar. The lion answered her with a haughty flick of his tail and followed his new huntress home.
Re: And The Two Shall Be As One
Freddian bowed deeply and then sat before Azral. Freddian's inquiries into the symbol on his hand had led him to this one man, who was supposed to have much knowlege of Trollish history. Azral was very old, that much was clear as Freddian looked up into the other troll's wrinkled features. Azral's eyes were deep set, but clear, and Freddian could feel the emanations of power that belied the other's age. Freddian sat quietly and waited for Azral to speak.
"Ah know why you have come," Azral said after some minutes had passed. "And Ah know da ansa to da question you wish ta ask me."
Freddian simply nodded, accepting the message.
"It is da symbol of a tribe dat sposed ta have died out a long time ago. Dey were bitter enemies of the Gurubashi tribe dat now controls most of Stranglethorn. Show me your hand."
Freddian held up his right hand, and Azral took hold of it with his own weathered fingers. He examined the marking on the back of Freddian's hand and nodded.
"It would seem dat at least one member of da tribe still survives. Dis symbol marks you as a direct descendant of da royal line, prob'bly a grandson or great grandson of a high chief. It be a birthmark, and cannot be faked. Do you know who your parents be?"
"Nuh, I don' know dem. I be raised by Dahkspeahs," Freddian replied thoughfully. "So, what be da name of dis tribe?"
"Dey were called da Laeo'preto tribe."
Freddian's eyes widened. "Laeo'preto? But dat means..."
"Black lion, yah. Dat means someting to you?"
Freddian stared up at Azral for a moment before responding.
"Ah tink Ah bedder get back ta Danzyn. Tanks so much for da information. Ah owe ya one."
I am young, too young to know the name of my tribe or that the name of the jungle I live in is Stranglethorn. I do know, however, in my small mind, that my name is Dan`jil. I am crouched down in a tiny ball, shivering in the night air. I am hiding, trying not to cry as my village is being burned by the tall and evil men who are killing the grown-ups. Strange women are running about grabbing the other small ones like me. When Mama woke me, she told me, “Run, baby, run, git yerself away an’ hide real good, and don’cha be crying. Don’t let dem hear you!” I see another small one like me torn from the arms of her mother by a bad woman as the man beside the bad woman thrusts a spear in the mama’s body. I do not know that the raiders will take the children and makes slaves of them. I do not know that the living spoils of any vanquished tribe must become slaves when their tribe is no more. I only know that I watch this with eyes too large to blink, listening to a heart pounding too loud to hear the screams.
It is morning and they are gone. They are all gone. The evil ones have left. The people of the tribe are dead or stolen. The huts are hot ashes and smoke. Even the food is gone and I am hungry. No one feeds me. No one holds me and tells me it’s all right. Finally I start to cry, tears welling in my eyes. I start to walk as I silently cry, walking away from the village, walking away from all I’ve ever known. I don’t know how long I walk, but the sun has gotten high enough to see now above the treetops. I start to cry again but this time I forget to be quiet. I cry with all the pity I feel for myself till I cannot breath through my stuffed-up nose, my face a mess of tears and soot. The birds and small animals hiding in the jungle around me chitter and squawk at my racket. I continue to loudly lament and feel sorry for myself until suddenly my feet slip out from under me and I scream as I tumble down sloping ground. Another scream that rises in my throat as I fall into water is squelched as I gasp at the shock of the cold water. I flail my small arms at the river as the current whisks me off. I sink underwater. Instinct drives me to kick and raise my face above the water for a moment choking and fighting for breath. My arms and legs get heavier and burn as they tire and it’s getting harder to fight to rise above the water again and again.
I sink and rise with less frequency; I have lost the will to fight it anymore, giving into the current as it spins me like a leaf. I can fight it no more and I sink. I feel pressure on the back of my neck and I feel myself being lifted up. I am above the water, I am not breathing and I am limp with exhaustion. I am carried by the neck out of the water and dropped slowly down onto soil. Something rough runs over my face. It runs over my face again and again, insistent. I am finally annoyed enough to roll away from it and I cough as I turn over. I begin to throw up water. When I am finished I take in deep raggedy breaths and crawl away from the water, higher on the soil till I feel grass beneath me and I plop down and sleep. Beside me, a black lion plops down and keeps me warm.
I feel something tugging at me but it doesn’t feel like Mama. It is insistent, again, and again I am annoyed by it. I roll over to look at it and green eyes look back at me in a black furry face. I have never seen fur outside of the one’s that were flat and stretched for tanning, or the fur of blankets. This fur covered a living animal and in my curiosity I reach out and grab a hunk of the fluffiest part around its face. It softly growls a warning but not enough of a warning to frighten me. I make a sound, much like the “pfft” my Mama used to make at my big brother and I let go of the furry face. We look at each other a moment or two and it grabs a bit of my clothing and tugs at me again. I stand up, not in resignation, mind you, because I was actually quite defiant in my little mind. I stand up because I am hungry, painfully now. The animal tugs at me again and I follow it a short distance till it stops before a bush full of berries. Greedily I pluck at the bush, filling my mouth with the wet goodness till my hands are sticky and purple with the juice. My hunger satiated, I look to the creature. I did not know it was a lion but I did know that it had led me to the food and that it seemed quite pleased with itself that I felt better. There we were, me too young to know many words, and the lion knew no words at all, and yet, when we looked at each other’s eyes, the lion could feel that I was no longer hungry and I could feel that the lion was pleased by it. I patted the lion with my sticky hand, bits of its fur coming off its mane and clinging to my sticky palm. Together we walked deeper into the jungle.
We walked together for many days until one day I heard the sound of voices. The closer we got, the more words I could make out. I didn’t know what those words meant but I knew the smell of food. The voices didn’t sound angry like those bad people. They sounded happy. I heard children and they were not screaming. I heard them laughing and playing and calling out to each other. The lion led me to a hut at the edge of what looked much like what my tribe had once looked like. The hut to which he led me was off a bit from all the others, and it had plants drying in bunches, hanging from around its eaves. I did not notice that voices had grown quiet. I did not know that others turned to watch. The lion walked up to the bottom step leading up to the hut and sat, staring at the door. I walked up to the lion and stood next to it, looking towards the hut, wondering what the lion was looking for. Out stepped a man, a kind looking man with many beads around his neck and a medicine rattle in his hand. He stopped and looked at the lion. He looked at me. He looked back at the lion. The man’s face was all at once sad and happy. “Well what’ yah be bringin’ me, ol’ Humazza,” he said as we walked towards us. I was not afraid when the man swooped me into his arms and carried me into his hut. The lion followed us in. I was home, a new home, and I was safe.
It was perhaps a week later that I heard the man that took care of me, Bert`rin, arguing in the yard with another man. I watched from the shadow in the doorway. Humazza stood beside me, a shadow himself with slowly blinking green eyes. The man that argued with my Bert`rin wore many feathers and had a boy with him. The boy was a few years older than me, and it surprised me that he seemed to see me from my spying place. He smiled. I went back to listening to the men argue. I did not understand all the words at the time, but I remembered them and realized what they meant later.
“She is not of our tribe, Bert`rin, yah know da rules, da traditions,” the mightily feathered man spoke loudly, “Yah will not be defying da traditions. I am da Chief and I will be obeyed!”
I will not turn dis orphaned child out into da jungle. We be Laeo'preto, honorable trolls. We are not like da Gurubashi dat destroyed her people. I will not turn away an innocent”, my Bert`rin argued.
The many-feathered man softened. “I knows yah just lost your wife and da baby she carried wit her when da birthin’ time came. Dat be a hard ting for a man,” the chief said as he looked towards the hut, “and I know dat da lion of yours is all yah haves left ta fill your heart, but yah cannot keep dat child as your daughter. It be breaking traditions. It be da traditions dat give dis tribe discipline and purpose an’ keep us from bein’ da heathens dat da Gurubashi have turned ta be.”
Bert`rin looked down in thought and then looked up to the chief, “Ah can keep her as a slave den? Raise her how Ah want?”
The chief pursed his lips in thought, and then making a decision he replied, “as long as she be a slave, yah can treat her however yah wish. She will be your responsibility, your property, and she cannot have da same rights as da people of dis tribe. She mus’ be a slave, but ya, mon, yah can treat her as yah like. Just remember ta teach her what her place be and dat she not be forgettin’ it.”
Bert`rin nodded an agreement to the chief. The Chief nodded to Bert`rin. Bert`rin almost reached out to the boy beside the chief, as if to ruffle his hair but pulled his hand back. The boy smiled at Bert`rin and my shaman master answered the smile with a wink to the boy.
My life had been changed and my future had been set. I did not realize at the time how much of it rested in the hands of that young boy.
Re: And The Two Shall Be As One
Har'zak knelt obediently before his father, Ara'ko, high chief of the Laeo'preto tribe. Ara'ko's voice was stern, and his eyes were hard.
"Ah heard ya went ta see da Shaman Bert'rin again. You know what I said about dat."
"Yah, father. Ah finished all my warrior studies first, and did all my chores too. Ah did everyting Ah was s'posed ta do."
Har'zak braved a small glance up at his father's face.
"Ah don' like you ta spend time wid da Shaman. He be fillin' your head fulla all kindsa notions dat we don' have time for. I know he's always been nice ta you, and dat's all fine and good, but dere be a war comin' tween us and dem Gurubashi's. You gotta be ready ta fight. And someday, you gotta take over my place and lead dis tribe. You bedder get it inta your head dat your goin' ta be da next chief, and you gotta act like one."
Har'zak nodded in agreement, keeping his eyes downcast. "Dere is powah in da Shaman's ways, too, father," he ventured.
"Bah. A strong arm and a good blade be da way of a chief. It won' do ta be chantin' and dancin' when da enemy comes for us."
Har'zak suppressed a sigh. They'd had this conversation before. He thought about his visit with Bert'rin two day previous. The old Shaman had been happy to see him, as always, and Har'zak had been especially interested in the informal lesson of the day -- fire totems. Although his father would be furious if he knew the extent of Har'zak's delving into the shamanistic arts, the fact was that Har'zak had a natural ability in them. Bert'rin had recognized this when Har'zak was still a toddler, and had subtly encouraged him to pursue it, despite how Ara'ko felt. In his younger years it had been easier for Har'zak to slip away, and even if he was seen at Bert'rin's shack nobody thought much of it. He and Bert'rin's slave daughter were often allowed to play together, and the two of them together had explored every square inch of their village and it's surroundings.
But now that Har'zak was approaching manhood, his time was much more limited. He was required to train for hours each day in the use of the sword and shield, tactics and strategy, leadership, history, and language. As the chief's only son, he was the crown prince of the Laeo'preto tribe, and his father had great plans for him. Har'zak's plans, however, did not always coincide with his father's.
The bitterest pill of all was the recent announcement his father had made of Har'zak's wedding. The entire thing had come as a complete surprise to everyone, including Har'zak. Ara'ko had made friends with one of the neighboring chiefs, and the two of them had agreed that it would be wise to ally their tribes against the coming Gurubashi threat. So, Ara'ko agreed to have Har'zak wed Mo'ka, the daughter of Ji'bann, chief of the Kiranosh tribe. It would be a glorious day, and a huge celebration was planned. Everyone from both tribes would attend, and there would be feasting and dancing until the wee hours of the morning.
Everytime he thought of it, Har'zak wanted to puke.
It wasn't that he particularly disliked the idea of getting married. It was just that he had someone else in mind. Someone that he knew he could never marry, and yet was the only girl he had ever loved, or would ever love. Har'zak sighed inwardly, as the image of Danjil danced in his memory. He would trade a million vapid chief's daughters for one particular slave girl, any day.
But there was little he could do about it. Even if his father hadn't come up with this grand plan for his life, a chief's son could never marry a slave girl. It was all so unfair. Har'zak looked up as his father spoke again.
"Have you memorized da speech for your wedding?"
"Yah, Ah almost have it all."
"Good. You keep your head straight, and focus on what you mus' do, now. No more runnin' off ta waste time wid dat Shaman, you hear me? Dere is no time for dat nonsense."
"Yes, father."
Ara'ko nodded, and waved his hand, dismissing Har'zak. As he left the chief's hut, Har'zak looked up at the sun's position. Good, it was not too late, yet. There was still time to finish the rest of his warrior training for the day, and then sneak off to meet Danjil in that little cove up north. Har'zak hid a smile as he turned toward the warriors' area.
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