Disclaimer: If you can't guess what this is supposed to say, you're either new to fanfiction or you've got a short memory span. I don't own WoW.
Author: Howdy WoW ficcies! It's that weirdo Jim'Van on the blower. I may not be the biggest WoW fanatic in the world, but I hope I've done my homework enough to know what makes a good fic about it. I originally planned horror and suspense for this story, but after the first few pages I could see it wasn't happening. Still, hope you enjoy this. Have fun, readers!
Fleet of Foot
Chapter 1: The Teacher
The druid bent down over the pot, taking care not to pull too hard and rip the roots, gently working the plant from the earth. He could hear their excited chattering behind him. A flicker of a smile crossed the night elf's face before he turned slowly, holding the uprooted shoots of morrowgrain in one gloved hand. He walked back to the sleepy, but excited human children watching him from the stone benches under the steely pre-dawn light.
"What's he doing?"
"He's going to use the plant to cast a spell, silly. Just like we're going to learn to do!"
"Yeah! He's gonna throw 'em down and make some of those cool living tree thingys!"
"No, stupid! He's gonna eat 'em to grow those thorn things on his skin!"
"No way! He'll turn himself into a tree! Just like those huge things in the night elf city!"
Any other druid would have laughed at the childrens' wild theories, but it had been years since this particular night elf had laughed. Well, genuinely anyway.
The childrens' wild chattering died down as the druid stepped up to them and held out the shoots of morrowgrain.
"Now, children…" he said in his deep, monotone voice. "Who can tell me what this is?"
A dozen hands immediately shot up, and the druid scoffed inwardly as he knew full well not one of them knew what it was, they were just trying to get his attention or a couple of words of praise from him. He nodded slowly at one of the younger children.
"Bristleweed?" the little girl gushed enthusiastically. Immediately, the other children snickered, knowing, just as the druid did, that she had simply made the answer up.
The corner of the druid's mouth upturned slightly, though it would be very generous to say he was smiling. "No, little one, I'm afraid not." He held it higher up. "These are shoots of morrowgrain."
As he expected, there was no recognition in the eyes or the mutterings of the children. He started passing them one shoot each to examine. "It is a rare and unusual plant, and it can only be grown in one place in the world: the extremely dangerous Un'goro crater."
This made the children gasp slightly and mutter louder, as several of them had indeed heard of Un'goro from the storytelling adventurers wandering through their town or from their mothers' bedtime stories.
"Of course, children…" the druid continued. "We do keep and grow much of it here in Moonglade now. It can be quite useful." He decided to quench their thirst for excitement a little. "For example, we can use it to grow guard plants to ensnare our enemies in battle."
There was an excited 'oooh' from the little humans, and each of them looked at the morrowgrain shoot with a little more fascination.
"Now," the teacher continued. "Each of you has a shoot, I would like you open it, and place the grains carefully in a new pot of soil. Each of you will care for this new morrowgrain plant as it grows. Before long, you will all have more samples to study…"
The enthusiasm on the childrens' faces quickly slipped off as they realized what he had just told them.
"But sir…" one of the little ones said slowly. "We're here to learn how to be druids, aren't we?"
The teacher sighed inwardly. He knew this had to come up sooner or later.
"All druids have to start somewhere, little one." He said in his most patient and wise tone. "And this is usually where they start. Come now, you didn't actually expect to be growing treant guardians by the next moonrise, did you?"
He hated mocking anyone, especially children, but he knew it was also the best way to forestall any other objections from the others, who scoffed and giggled at their red-faced classmate.
Without another word, the teacher gestured at the pots, trowels, and large mounds of freshly-turned earth waiting to one side, and, some with enthusiastic bounds, and others with weary groans, the children clambered off their benches and went to pick them up.
"Remember, children," the druid said as they started filling pots. "Do not place the shoot too deeply in the soil after you fill your pots. If the grain is too deep within the earth, it will not reach the air in time and it will choke and die. If you cannot keep a simple plant alive, you certainly can never become a druid…"
With much disgruntled muttering, the children reluctantly followed the night elf's instructions, pouring soil and planting shoots into their pots. Within five minutes, it was done.
"Excellent." The druid said quietly, peering into several of the pots. "Now children, before we adjourn this morning, I will give you one final instruction: keep thinking about this new plant all day. Try to hold the thought as tightly as you can. It will be difficult the first time, children, but it will get easier as we continue."
There was a ripple of groans. The druid did not blame them. Being young and mortal, this would be more difficult for a human child than it would for a night elf.
"I know, children, it will be hard…" he said reassuringly. "But if you can do this, you will have learned half of a basic druid's ability. The other half, how to use this thought to change the plant, will be what we will study over the coming year. This plant will be your test subject for this ability throughout the whole time we learn it, so it is best if you attune yourself to it thoroughly."
There was still grumbling, but the children accepted his words without any objection.
Another push. The druid cleared his throat to stop the grumbling. "If you can learn to concentrate in this way, children…that will also be of use in learning to attune yourself to the Emerald Dream. It will take many years, but once you get there, it will be well worth it."
Another ghost of a smile crossed the teacher's face as he said "Very well, children. You are dismissed."
A young night elf priestess approached the children, limping slightly, and called to them in a sweet, warming voice to come with her back home. A mother's voice, the druid thought, reflecting with a pang of pity that this particular priestess would never become a mother because of an injury she sustained at Mount Hyjal years ago.
Let them be her children then. At least for a while, he thought, watching her lead them away.
There was a hearty chuckle from his left as the hunter rose from the bench where he had been watching. "I wonder why you bother, Treike." He said with a shrug. "You know and I know that humans could never become druids…"
The druid named Treike gazed at his friend without expression. "Many causes may appear futile, Ashind. Yet many of them may produce a surprising result, or even a completely new discovery. You should know this, my friend."
Ashind shook his head. "Perhaps. But our time could still be better spent." He snorted slightly. "Come, my friend, I think some of the new dwarven stout they delivered last week might ease our minds over this."
Nodding agreement, Treike picked up his staff from where he leaned it against the wall and followed his friend back to Nighthaven.
"So that's how it was…" Ashind said as he lazily leaned back in his seat and scratched his pet nightsaber, Prowl, behind the ears. "Do you remember that orc we saw floating around drunk in the…"
"Ashind…" Treike said, waving his hand as he looked up from his drink. "You know how I feel about that. You've been spending too much time with the humans…"
Indeed, time and time again, he had made it clear to his over-talkative friend that he didn't enjoy reliving those times. As far as Treike was concerned, his time on the battlefield with the Alliance and Horde was over. But Ashind, very chatty by night elf standards, loved to relive the times when the two of them had put vast numbers of orcs and trolls to flight, something which Treike was not remotely interested in discussing considering what it all led up to.
"Master Kaltreike, sir…"
Treike looked up and noticed a young druidess-in-training walking towards him. She was trembling slightly, as though she dearly wished she were somewhere and someone else.
"What is it, little sister?" he asked formally while Ashind covered his mouth and gave a small snort of laughter at the girl's discomfort. The young, obviously untrained, elf girl was one of the new breed of female druids, the ones who could not hibernate within the Emerald Dream and thus instead learned the ways of nature through the generosity of the ancients. It made sense that such a young one, with so little knowledge in the face of a full-grown druid, would balk at being the bearer of bad news.
"I have been asked to deliver a message to you…" she said slowly, and obviously with great reluctance. "Lord Dendrite Starblaze requires your presence. He says that he wishes to discuss some grave news with you."
Treike nodded politely. "Thank you, little one. I will go to him soon. Blessings of Cenarius upon you."
The young night elf turned red, bowed hurriedly and scuttled off to Ashind's chuckles.
"Regrets, Treike?" he asked his friend slyly.
The druid suddenly shot the hunter a look of pure venom. Ashind started momentarily, and quickly composing himself, looked down and rubbed his temples.
"I'm so sorry, my friend. Sometimes I forget…" He shook his head in a gesture of genuine regret. "It must be the stout that's making me a fool. I apologize…"
Treike glared in answer before rising. "Are you coming or staying, Ashind?"
The hunter yawned. "I will retire. It will be midday soon. I hope Starblaze doesn't keep you up too long, my friend."
Treike let only one word slip out.
"What?"
Dendrite Starblaze looked at him, obviously unhappy at having to be the bearer of this kind of news. "I'm sorry, Kaltreike. I really am. But I cannot disobey the Arch Druid. Even one such as Staghelm…"
Treike sat heavily on the bench next to Dendrite's table. He couldn't believe his ears. "May I see the message please, Dendrite?"
Grimacing, the older druid reached for his table and rolled up a half-open parchment before offering it to Treike. The druid licked his fingers and unrolled the crisp document. He stared at the spidery script, written in Darnassian and obviously in a great hurry. Treike could not help but scowl as he read.
Revered Cenarion Druid Starblaze,
Blessings of the Cenarion Enclave upon you. I, Arch Druid Fandral Staghelm, write to you now in this hour, and I must be brief, as there are a great number of other matters which require my attention.
It has come to my attention recently that the Cenarion researcher and former so-called war druid to our friends in the Alliance, Kaltreike Shadowfury, is currently residing in Nighthaven. If so, then I need hardly remind you that his activities in the past, not to mention the bloodline he carries in his veins, is a cause of great concern to us, your concerned brothers.
I urge you to rethink your plans to keep Kaltreike Shadowfury in Nighthaven. I know already that he is attempting a rather scandalous and hopelessly inane pursuit in Moonglade by attempting to instruct human visitors in our druidic powers. Outrageous as well as imbecilic.
In light of this, and other recent reports of his past activities which have come to me, as Arch Druid of the Cenarion Circle, I issue a command to both you and Kaltreike that he return to Darnassus immediately where the full extent of his crimes can be rectified and adequate disciplinary action may be taken. I will expect his arrival within the week.
-Arch Druid Fandral Staghelm
"He gets more and more carried away as he goes along, doesn't he?" Treike murmured, scanning the document again. He did not show it, but he was tempted to rip the message up and curse Staghlem with every insult he knew right there and then. "Must be brief, eh?" He added with only a touch of scorn.
Everyone in Moonglade knew that their beloved new Arch Druid was long overdue for proper instruction in management of his anger, but to issue such bold accusations and commands was treading too heavily even for him.
Starblaze sighed again. "It is up to you, Treike. You may obey him, or you may leave. Now that he knows you are here, I'm afraid I cannot any longer maintain the illusion of ignorance. If you choose to leave, I can send him a reply stating you left before the message arrived…"
No. The druid knew this had been coming for a while. Leaving Moonglade now would only allow Staghelm to declare him an outlaw and have the Cenarion Circle on the lookout.
He stood. "Ashind wanted to visit his family soon anyway. I doubt anyone will miss him for a few nights in Darnassus, and another druid can teach the human children…"
Starblaze turned back, obviously startled. "You're going? Kaltreike, my friend…I need hardly inform you how dangerous this will be…"
Treike shook his head. "I could put off this danger for another century if I had to, revered Starblaze. But to what end?"
Dendrite Starblaze did not like what his return to Darnassus might mean, but the question Treike posed was pertinent. Running from Staghelm and his followers would accomplish nothing except wasting time. Sooner or later, the Arch Druid would find him, and the infuriating thing about it was that Starblaze and the other druids of Moonglade and Felwood would have to help him do it…
"Where are you going?" Starblaze called, as he turned and saw Treike leaving with his staff.
"To the Grove." The other druid replied quietly. "I have to see Keeper Remulos…"
The healthy, growing grass of the grove crunched only slightly under the hooves of Keeper Remulos, son of Cenarius, as he and Kaltreike strode below the great boughs.
"Our revered Arch Druid…" Remulos said uneasily. "…does not remember the limits of his own power. He has no influence here in Moonglade, and most of our followers hold no great love for him. You need not obey this command of his, young Kaltreike. My word as the son of Cenarius may serve to convince every druid here and abroad that you are no criminal."
"It may certainly, Remulos…" Treike replied just as slowly. He liked the keeper. Everyone did. But he knew now what he had to do. Even if Remulos' words were true, and though he appreciated them, Treike was certain Staghelm would exert not only the druidic arm of night elf society in the attempt to capture him. "…But defiance may lead to escalation in disagreement between the druids, and I believe the Cenarion Circle has enough enemies already without squabbling amongst ourselves."
"Treike…" Remulos began, using the nickname now that they were out of earshot of the silent guards, as if in an attempt to address him as a friend. "This sounds like an obvious attempt to indict you into the unfortunate…" He stopped momentarily at the druid's stare. "Very well…horrible events of three years ago in Outland. I believe it is a mistake to go to Darnassus and place yourself in Staghelm's power. Other druids have visited him on the claim of receiving fair charges for indiscretions before, and…"
He paused, looking upwards unhappily at the falling leaves and glint of emerging dawn rays from the canopy. The keeper then shook himself and pawed at the earth with two hooves. "We never heard from them again. It gives me no pleasure to say this, Treike, but I believe he is not merely reassigning them…"
Treike nodded. "I know that well, keeper." He had heard the rumors himself. A number of druids had certainly disappeared from Moonglade after answering summons from the Cenarion Enclave in Darnassus. Enquiries after them had been shunned, and even attempts to dispatch messengers to the Enclave had turned up no substantial replies. "But what the Arch Druid accuses me of is something that wounds me deeply, and I feel I may have a personal need to answer his charges, with the truth."
He could feel the keeper's questioning gaze as he looked down at the soil. But Remulos did not enquire as to the cause of Treike's urge. After a few moments, he added. "Perhaps I may also discover what became of our brothers who went to see him also…"
This seemed to make Remulos halt in formulating his next objection. Treike knew the disappearances disturbed him. He was silent for several moments.
"I assume you have a plan? Of sorts…?" he tilted his enormous head.
Treike shook his head. "Not quite. But I do know that Tyrande Whisperwind trusts me. And her protection, I hope, will place me beyond Staghelm's reach until these…charges…are disproved. I must go back to Darnassus, Remulos. For my own sake. Not just that of our revered Arch Druid…"
The keeper inclined his head, acknowledging surrender in the discussion. As with most great beings, his gestures of such were very small.
"Very well then. Good luck and godspeed, Kaltreike Shadowfury. May Cenarius be with you…and keep you safe…"
Treike inclined his head, and then suddenly looked up, an idea striking him…
"Revered Keeper…I just may have a plan after all. Tell me, how long has it been since Lady Tyrande has heard from you?"
Remulos was one of the few beings who knew the ironic note in his voice was the closest he could manage to a smile. And what it meant…
Author: Please leave a review. All comments, including criticism, are welcome. On a side note, I may be asking one or two of my favorite WoW ficcers if I can feature cameos of their fic characters in future, so keep an eye out. Love you all, readers!