Hi! I really hope you guys like this, its my first attempt at a WoW fic. And yes, I actually play Wil. My realm is Dentarg if any of you play, come find me! Well, anyways, read and review please!

Love,

ange69

PRELUDE

It rained heavily this night, of the Telling. It was a yearly thing amongst the soldiers; they all pitched in a few gold to have their fortunes told by the old troll Shaman that came their way every winter. The Shaman liked the barracks of Stormwind; they fed her heartily and truly they were her greatest bounty of the year. Their expensive gold bought her children and grandchildren bread and meat for the summers. It seemed every month there were more mouths to feed, and some days she cursed herself for producing so many offspring.

This night, as Galor'Uhl wobbled steadily up the stone paths, her walking stick clunking heavily against the ground. Her bare feet were cold but accustomed to the weather; winter truly was her favorite time of year, if only because the stormy skies reflected well with her dark, bluish skin. As she neared the stone gates of Stormwind, a man in silver armor broke away from his fellows, abandoning the card game they were halfheartedly playing. "Galor'Uhl!" The man called, waving his gloved hands above his head. Galor'Uhl recognized him then, his crinkly blue eyes and dark, black hair. He had shaved his beard since the last time she had seen him, his young face showing a few signs of wear. Truly the battles of the Horde and Alliance had taken a toll both on her people and other races. Galor'Uhl proudly thought herself nuetral.

"Danail, my boy! Though, you are no longer a boy, it seems," the old troll female said, spreading one of her arms wide. Danail leaned into her, resting his head against her flamboyant, red hair. She and the young human had always shared a special bond, ever since Danail's father brough him to see her in her homeland, once, when he was there on business.

"No, all grown up, Gal," Danail said, the new roughness in his voice surprising Galor'Uhl, "General to the Stormwind Army, now!" He flashed proudly the golden star sewn onto his blue tabard. The troll smiled gently, showing a mouth full of sparse, blunt teeth. "I couldn't be prouder if you were my own kin, Danny," she said, and meant it.

"How are the children, Gal? Malik'Uhl and Sertia have any more young ones while you were away?" Danail always remembered her children's names, along with most of her grandchildren. Having several offspring was common for trolls, in case the first few didn't survive. In Galor'Uhl's case, all six of them had.

"Yes, Malik'Uhl and Sertia welcomed a son and daughter while I was home. Saroom and Z'tinae," Galor'Uhl admitted proudly, smiling wistfully as she remembered her newest grandbabies.
"That's great, Gal," Danail said, squeezing her lightly. He lead her into the warmer tower, just out front of Stormwind City. As many times as she had seen the outskirts, Galor'Uhl had never been inside the great city. She was already pushing the boundaries with Varian Wrynn with visiting his soldiers. Though she was no threat, Galor'Uhl would rather keep her head on her shoulders, not on the ground.

Danail sat her on a small stool on the lower floor of the tower, shoving a bowl of thick, brown stew at her when she refused it. "I cannot accept your food," Galor'Uhl said vehemently, even as she reached out to take it from him, "times are hard and meat is scarce." Her argument was lost when Danail waved a hand dismissivly. "We've had a rush of odd creatures," he said, now looking slightly worried, "but their meat suffices well enough for us to survive."

His fellows watched Galor'Uhl warily as she took a sip of the stew. It was thick and warm, and she felt her cold bones warming already. As she ate, she watched. Most of the boys she had seen last winter were still there, slightly bulkier and scruffier than before. Their eyes passed over her warily, as if she would recite an ancient spell to freeze them all like ice for eternity. Though she could, Galor'Uhl would not. She liked her humans.

Polishing off the stew, Galor'Uhl set the crude, wooden bowl on the stone floor. Shen then reached into her pack at her waist, producing a fine, red powder. She stood and gently spread it around her in a wide circle, humming quietly. The men watched from afar, holding a collective breath, afraid to move.

When she finished, a quivering, bright light flew around the red dust. The soldiers around her gasped, and only Danail remained calm. He was, by now, used to the female's antics.

"Who would like to be first?" Galor'Uhl called out to the congregated men, her emeralde eyes searching. Her connection with the spirits now intensified her very being. She searched their faces and their minds, calling out the ones who truly wanted their fortune told but were afraid to ask.

"You," she said, pointing to a young, wafish looking boy with white-blond hair. The boy's blue eyes glazed over with fear. "Come forward, young one," she searched his mind, "Teronis, you are called." It was not a question, Galor'Uhl knew all.

The boy stepped forward cautiously, his mail armor clanking and tinkling. Teronis stepped inside Galor'Uhl's sacred circle, but stared at the female's extended hand warily. Rolling her eyes, Galor'Uhl took his appendage and tore the glove from it, tossing the armor aside.

As she touched the pale skin of the boy's hand, Galor'Uhl could taste his fear. It was hot and metallic on her tongue, and it flared up inside his mind, attempting to ward her out. The troll Shaman had faced far worse than this, though, and pushed it right aside.

She saw the boy's life from birth to here, and it was extraordinarily plain. His father trained him to be a soldier. His mother was a kind woman with cornflower hair such as his, and his eyes. He loved her greatly. She was ill, though, with a strange disease. Galor'Uhl had seen this in a few of her children when they were young. She took some herbs from her packs and mixed them in her abandoned bowl. She mashed them together with her fingers and handed them to Teronis, who looked at her in confusion. Neither of them had said a word.

"Take these to your mother, immediately," she ordered, her voice a low rasp, "they will heal her of her illness." Teronis' eyes widened and he gasped, a smile flitting across his face. "Thank you!" he cried, and couldn't help but throw his arms around the troll woman's shoulders in a rough embrace that was over before Galor'Uhl could return it, "thank you so much! I am forever in your debt!"

The boy raced from the tower toward the lights of the town. Galor'Uhl watched him through the trees, smiling, before turning to the next soldier.

The process of reading each soldier was a long, arduous one. By the time she had finished it was a very early hour of the morning, and Galor'Uhl's bones ached as she moved. A yawn escaped her mouth as she stood, stretching her sinewy arms in the air. Her eyes, clouded with weariness, traveled over the sleeping men. To show their gratitude for her readings, they had made a bed for her with the softest furs and mats, so she may rest before continuing her journey. As she looked, her eyes fell on one dark haired man, lounging near the entrance to the tower.

"Danail," Galor'Uhl said quietly, as not to wake the others, "I have no read your fortune this night. Come here." The man looked up, almost startled. "You're tired, Gal," he said placatingly, "get some rest. You don't need to read my fortune this time. There's nothing really to tell."

Galor'Uhl shook her head, her spiky, red hair falling in her eyes. "Come over, Danail. I always have time for your readings."

Danail smiled and came to her, taking off his glove and reaching for Galor'Uhl's hand. As her smoky blue skin touched Danail's, a shock went through the troll. Her eyes snapped shut and visions swished through her head, too fleeting to be seen. A blue aura tinged a picture, slowly coming into focus.

Danail stood at the bedside of a red-haired woman, his blue eyes boring into her green ones. In the woman's arms was a tiny, squirming bundle. As Galor'Uhl watched, it let out a tiny cry and the blanket fell aside.

The child swathed in the blanket was beautiful, with milky white skin and perfect, pink lips. The ice blue orbs seemed to gaze right into Galor'Uhl, and the crying stopped. Galor'Uhl suddenly got the feeling that the beautiful, future-child knew she was watching.

The vision switched, then, to a young girl playing in the open yard. A large wolf pup bounced around after her, sometimes stopping to nurse a charred patch of skin on its flank. Danail and the red-haired woman laughed from the doorway of a wooden cottage, their hands clasped around another squirming bundle.

The happy visions had Galor'Uhl smiling as she watched, and Danail, blind to what she was seeing, could only imagine. Suddenly, the troll's mouth twisted from a grin to a grimace, and she gasped.

Galor'Uhl shut her eyes tighter, as if trying to force away what she was seeing now. Danail's blue eyes stared up at her, his face older, and unseeing. His sword hung limply from his hand, and an enormous armored foot clomped down into her line of vision. It was an orc, his green skin tinged with stained blood. By the look of him, he was young, with an unlined face and clear, defiant eyes. The creature let out a terrifying roar, leading his band away on their snarling, drooling wolves.

The vision was quiet then, panning to an open, barren feild. Fires raged all around, creatures screamed with agony and hate. One lone figure was what Galor'Uhl focused on, slim and small yet muscular, weilding an axe. Black hair pulled messily out of the face, with the blue eyes and snowy white skin. A blue tabard, torn and bloodied, with a golden star. The woman turned and Galor'Uhl gasped. The beautiful future-child, grown now, but still stunning. Her face was contorted with hate, focused on an unseen enemy. As she raised her axe for the final blow, her attention shifted momentarily, staring into space. Her expression cleared in recognition, before the long-handled dagger slipped through a break in her armor and she fell, contorting in agony, to the ground...

Galor'Uhl pulled herself from Danail's future, tears streaming, unbidden, from her eyes.

"Danail," she sobbed, "oh, my dear boy. My poor, dear boy."

The man caught her, pulling her to her stool. "What, Gal? What did you see?" He asked frantically, smoothing the troll's hair from her face so she could speak. "No, no, I cannot tell you," Galor'Uhl sobbed, feeling as if her heart was being torn from her chest. The beautiful child, the poor, future-child, and her sweet, sweet friend Danail...

"Tell me what you have seen!" Danail commanded, his voice raising slightly, "it is my future!" He had his hands placed on Galor'Uhl's shoulders, shaking her slightly. Panic flitted across his face. The old troll seemed to rattle inside of her body, before coming to again.

"You...are in a patrol, with your infantry," she started, her voice barely a whisper, "you go because you must protect your family. You die." Galor'Uhl began to cry again, silently this time. "You would not have went, if you did not have the children. Two, a girl and a boy. You go because you must keep them safe. Must keep her safe." Galor'Uhl's mouth contorted into a grimace, as she invisioned the future-child. "She is like you. Very much so. You have the same eyes," she smiled, reaching her hand up to touch Danail's cheek, "and face. You gladly die for her so she may survive. But do not think that you do not have a choice, Danail," Galor'Uhl warned, her tears drying on her face and her voice taking in a new fervor,"do not think that you cannot save your own life. The paths of fate can always be changed."

Danail watched her, and his eyes that were once glowing with pride now showed signs of wariness. "What are you saying, Shaman?" Danail snapped, almost rudely, "Forfeit my child for my life? Never. The very thought disgusts me to my core."

Danail threw himself away from Galor'Uhl, beginning to pace. Both were utterly silent, Galor'Uhl watching him and Danail staring at the floor. When the man looked up, his eyes were filled with tears. "I accept my fate. I will bear this child with pride and love, and raise her as best I can until...until I no longer wa;k in this world," Danail stopped pacing and turned to face Galor'Uhl. The troll gave him a wan smile. "As I knew you would, Danail Wolfslayer," the Shaman said, though she admitted to herself that she was hoping for the latter, "and if I ever see this daughter of yours, I will give her all the blessings my people can give." They reached their arms out at the same time, embracing heartily. "Get some rest, my dear boy," Galor'Uhl advised, smoothing his tabard, "it is a late hour and the life of a soldier is never dull." However short that life may be, she thought, but bit her tongue. Danail nodded, distracted, and wandered up the creaky, wooden stairs of the tower. Galor'Uhl watched him lay beneath his furs. Though she knew he would not sleep tonight, she commended him for putting up the charade, for her sake.

Galor'Uhl sat on the edge of the wall near the tower for the remaning hours of night, just staring into the forest. She watched the creatures interact; two prowlers padding almost silently through the woods, a fox leading her two young cubs home from a night of foraging. As the morning rays began to seep over the mountains, Galor'Uhl stood silently and gathered her things. The men were beginning to stir awake as well, so it was best that she be off now, without troubling them with goodbyes. As the troll Shaman set out, her walking stick smacking against the ground with her unusually fast pace, she felt eyes boring into the back of her head. She turned then, still walking, to stare up into the window of the tower.

A flash of black hair and a glint of armor sent her heart into a whirl. No, it couldn't be, that child was years into the future...

Danail Wolfslayer watched his old friend go, his mouth set in a tight, worried line. As he watched, Galor'Uhl raised her hand in farewell. This was much unlike their happy, sloppy goodbyes of old. The air was thick with the tension between the two. Danail raised his hand in a single flick, either a wave of farewell or a disgusted dismiss, Galor'Uhl would never know.

Galor'Uhl started off on her journey home again, more eager than usual to see her children again, to feel her grandchildren's warm hugs. As hard as she tried, she could not forget the face of the future-child, contorted in agony, dying...

Danail Wolfslayer saw the receding figure of his old friend vanish into the early morning mist. Though he could no longer see her, he knew she was there, watching him through the mist. Wondering when she would see him again, if she ever would. Danail couldn't help but let his mind wander back to what Galor'Uhl had said. "Do not think that you do not have a choice, Danail," she had said. But did he really? Could he sacrifice the life of this child, his daughter, someone he felt he already knew? Someone that Galor'Uhl had said was so like him?

No, Danail Wolfslayer decided, pulling on his gloves. The morning mist gave way to the first rays of sunlight; they felt warm and healthy on his face. No, he thought again, he did not.