The Timbermaw furbolg were very accepting of Adarin and Rahoda, as expected since they both spent much time in the adjacent region of Moonglade. They had been traveling through the corridors of Timbermaw Hold for nearly a half hour when their guide signaled them towards the chamber they had been waiting outside of.
"The Chieftain will see you now," the furbolg growled, motioning towards the hallway behind him. Adarin gave the bear-man a slight nod as the pair walked past him. They entered the room, both meeting the gaze of Chieftain Meilosh, though Rahoda had to crouch just to fit in the room, which was even larger, still, than the corridors that lead to it.
The white furbolg wore little more than a loin cloth, as furbolg tended to not wear much clothing to begin with. He did, however, sport a rather intricate necklace decorated with long black feathers encompassing his entire neck. Between each feather was a tooth, probably some sort of trophy, and beads that separated the feathers from the teeth.
"Hamuul has already informed me that he is gathering troops in southern Kalimdor," the chieftain explained. "What, then, is your purpose here?"
"I understand but that is not why we have requested your audience," Adarin answered. "I had spoken with Hamuul. I've been having these strange dreams lately and he said that you may be able to help me."
"Explain…" the chieftain grumbled.
Adarin reenacted the dream from earlier that morning, and many mornings before that.
"The War of the Ancients? Curious… and you say that you cannot remember anything past the events in those caves?"
"Not exactly. I can remember bits and pieces but most of it is unknown to me. I vaguely remember playing with a young night elf girl but after that, nothing! The next thing I remember is waking up in a temple in Un'Goro Crater. I was discovered by my adoptive father and his close friend during the War of the Shifting Sands nearly a thousand years ago. At first, I couldn't remember anything but over time I was able to piece together the events leading up to the cave, but for the most part, there is a nine thousand year gap in my memory." Adarin thought for a moment, looking over to Rahoda when he realized that he had not spoken a word since their arrival in Chieftain Meilosh's chambers. He continued, "I was heading to speak with my father earlier today. He was supposed to be digging around the Emerald Dream looking for any hits of my mysterious disappearance but when I had arrived there, he had been made into an Unwaking.
"Very interesting. I can understand why you would not travel to the Dream yourself. These are very dangerous days, Adarin." He let the thought roll around in Adarin's mind for a while.
"How did you know my name?" he asked, when he finally realized what he had said.
"I know a lot of things, night elf. Now, out of curiosity, you've had nearly a thousand years to try to get to the bottom of this. Why now?"
"To be honest, I spent most of the time piecing the story together and it wasn't until recently that I began having these visions in my sleep. I went to my father a little more than a week ago, seeking help, and then all this happened."
"And so you think this is all connected?" the chieftain asked rhetorically. "The spirit of Ursol, who spends much of his time in Moonglade, passes through here quite often on his quest to cleanse Felwood of its taint. While passing, it is not uncommon for him to stop and talk to us, especially the children. He has a fondness for our young, you see. I have heard him tell many tales of the Unwaking and as I'm sure your aware, he has much knowledge of the War of the Ancients from firsthand experience. I cannot tell you much more than that but I do know that he passed through here many moons ago and has not yet made the return trip. Perhaps he could better point you in the right direction," Meilosh noted.
Adarin thanked the chieftain for his time and him and Rahoda continued on their journey through Timbermaw Hold.
---
They exited the south-western end of the tunnel a while later and found themselves overlooking a village of furbolg to the west. Experience told both Adarin and Rahoda that these furbolg had been tainted by the Burning Legion along with the rest of the region. Even the lakes of the area seemed to emanate the same evil that brought this destruction to these lands.
"This disgusts me," Rahoda said. "Without even lifting so much as an axe, the Burning Legion has defiled this land and the damage will probably never be completely healed."
"It's a shame, really," added Adarin. "Not that it's any of my business but I noticed that you were offly quiet back there. Are you all right?"
"I'm fine. I was just thinking about your situation is all. I may be able to help, though I'm not sure if it will do much good. I'm sure you've noticed by now that I have an abnormal affininity with the natural world, even more so than the average druid."
"So I've heard, but to be honest I was beginning to think it was all rumors."
The two continued to journey south through the befouled lands of Felwood.
"The reason for the mysterious connection is unknown to me, but I've noticed over time that I can sense the spirits of the wild. They speak to me and I may be able to locate the spirit of Ursol, though these lands are so tainted it may interfere with the link."
"I don't suppose it would cause any harm to attempt it, right?" Adarin asked, quizzically.
"I don't believe so, though anything is possible with the condition this place is in. I can even feel the corruption in the soil…" explained a worried Rahoda. "It is worth a shot though." Rahoda crouched to the ground and dug his fingers into the soil. He grasped it and lifted it into the air, closing his eyes in the process. He released his grip when the wind began to pick up. As he opened his eyes, Adarin noted that they were a pale white. The wind caught the soil and carried it towards the southwest.
"Come…" was all that the tauren said, as he began to follow the soil in the direction it was blown.
---
The pair had traveled for a little more than a day and yet Rahoda never said a word or even broke pace. His eyes remained a glossy white and just as quickly as it washed over him, the mysterious trance was gone. His pupils returned to the brown they were naturally.
"We are near," he explained.
"Praise Elune. The silence was driving me insane. And I think someone was following us," Adarin explained. "I'm not positive. It could have been my mind playing tricks on me."
"More than likely, Adarin. These woods have a way of doing that, especially when one has no one to talk to," Rahoda answered.
"So how far are we from the bear spirit?"
"I am not sure. It's not an exact science, old friend. The natural world reveres patience."
It took the two another half hour or so to find a suspicious-looking camp. There were dozens of large logs that were apparently used as the backbone for a lean-to. Two posts stood in front of each of the logs, with a leather tarp stretch from the posts to the top of the log. Several of these lean-to's were arranged in circles around a bonfire, others were off to the side of the main camp. Adarin and Rahoda, both, recognized the village that was before them.
"Deadwood Village…" Adarin thought out loud. Both Rahoda and Adarin had been here before, albeit on separate occasions. The Timbermaw tribe has been in a civil war with the Deadwood tribe since the end of the Third War. When the land was tainted, so was most of the natural fauna, and as such it is customary for druids to practice diplomatic relations with the Timbermaw furbolgs and eliminate these perversions of nature that continue to befoul the land. Despite all efforts, however, they continue to return in great numbers further rooting the corruption of the aptly named Felwood.
"Adarin, over there..." Rahoda was pointing to a large, green metallic crate that looked very much out of place in the primitive encampment. It was covered in sigils from top to bottom. Upon closer inspection, the translucent form of a bear could be seen.
"Ursol!" Adarin confirmed. "He's been captured."
There were dozens of Deadwood furbolg surrounding the cage, each wielding some sort of totem. It was crafted of an unknown charred wood, shaped much like a cross, the symbol of the Holy Light, though there was likely no connection whatsoever. Over the top half, the skull of a bear, even blacker than the wood itself, hung. The furbolg were dancing around the cage, chanting in a language neither of them could understand, likely a dialect of their native tongue.
"We will have to be quick about this. The only thing we have on them is the element of surprise," Rahoda explained, quietly.
"I didn't have the chance to retrieve my weapon when we left Nighthaven the other day. I'm unarmed!" Adarin admitted, mildly ashamed.
"Not a problem." Rahoda snuck, as quietly as a tauren could sneak, towards a furbolg who was not participating in the ceremony. He removed one of his very strange looking daggers from his belt. Really, they looked more like teeth than a dagger but they seemed to have some sentimental value to the mighty tauren. Adarin found it more odd that such a large creature as a tauren would even be using the small weapons in the first place.
He crept up behind the lone furbolg, covered his mouth, and slit his throat using the dagger-tooth. He removed a bow from the felled creatures back and threw it to Adarin, followed by a quiver containing a dozen arrows. Adarin hadn't used a bow in a long time, not since the War of the Ancients, but he would have to use each arrow wisely if he wanted to walk out of this adventure alive.
Turning their attention back to the dancing furbolg, Adarin again realized how severely outnumbered they were. This should be interesting, he thought to himself. Without any hesitation at all, Adarin knocked an arrow and sent it flying towards an unsuspecting furbolg. It landed right in the back of its skull, alerting the others to their presence.
Instinctively, Rahoda launched his makeshift dagger towards the first bear-man who charged towards them, burying it deep in the beasts chest, severing the connection between its heart and its other vital organs. Before his target even hit the ground, the he ran towards the dying furbolg.
Adarin let another arrow loose, focused on one of the Deadwood trying to intercept Rahodas path and hit it in the knee, bringing it to the ground. I still got it, the night elf said to himself as he knocked another arrow ready for fire. He scanned the area, looking for his most vulnerable enemy.
As another furbolg closed the gap between itself and Rahoda, he spun around and split his assailants neck. He reached into his belt and unsheathed his other dagger-tooth, as two more of the bear-men tackled him from behind. One of which sank its teeth into Rahodas neck.
Adarin had found his target. He released another arrow, again towards the beasts head, narrowly missing his comrades own head in the process. With the odds stacked against them, neither could afford to lose each other, and so Adarin put the bow over his shoulder and charged into the fray. He noticed that most of the bear-men were still focused on the spirit of Ursol and were completely ignoring the battle all together. They chanted and danced around as if nothing were happening.
During his fall, Rahoda had lost his grip on the one dagger that he held in his right hand. He still had the other one, and though he didn't have the greatest maneuverability with his left arm at the moment, he thrusted it towards the feral creatures side as it clawed at his back. He aimed for one of the creatures lungs and he knew struck home when he heard the beast gasping for air. Rahoda quickly brought himself back to his feet, retrieving his lost dagger as he did so.
By the time Adarin had made his way to the main fight, a wild animal had taken his place. In his bear form, he lunged towards one of the prone furbolg that were dancing around the cage and raked at its face, nearly taking it off in the process. He gained the attention of several more of the bear-men, though most of them still acted as if they didn't notice the bout. He wondered what they were up to but didn't have much time to think about it as three more furbolg came baring down on him. One thwacked him on the head with its totem, and another sent an arrow his way, piercing him in his right hind leg.
Rahoda reached to the ground and placed his hand on the soil, asking the wilds for their help. He attempted to summon some roots to pin down a few of the furbolg surrounding Adarin but there was no reply. Two more furbolg came at him, one from each side, and he quickly ended both of their lives. He jammed a dagger in one of their temples and, without even spinning around, caught the other in the jaw only to be pinned down by a third furbolg that he never saw coming. This time, however, he dropped both of his daggers.
Adarin was surrounded and now his back-right leg burned from the arrow that he could not remove. He swatted one of the furbolg away but he couldn't muster up enough strength to do any real damage. The other two jumped on top of him and though Adarin couldn't see a thing, he did hear many quick steps coming from behind him, followed by the sound of grinding metal. He assumed the worst as he was overtaken by warmth and blood sprayed all over the landscape.
The furbolg fell off of Adarin's back and fell onto the ground beside him. They didn't make a sound.
By the time Adarin could look back to see what had happened, there was nothing there but two headless furbolg on the ground. The third was farther away but te ground around it was similarly covered in blood from a large gouge in the beasts throat.
A cloaked figure stood over the body, holding a long curved sword. The mysterious warrior was facing the direction that Rahoda was in. He was still pinned to the ground with the furbolg now knawing into his side as blood leaked from the wound. The tauren clenched the earth beneath him, screaming in agony, and the cloaked figure dashed towards the final furbolg that was focused on the fight. It kicked the beast in its nose, sending it flying a few feet from Rahodas limp body. It jumped over the tauren and drove the sword right through the beasts chest. The figure then snapped the sword to its side, cleaning the blood from it, and placed it back in its sheath.
The figure turned its attention toward the dozen or so remaining furbolg, still dancing wildly around the cage and waving their totems in a ritualistic manner. It thrusted its right arm in their direction as several balls of fire erupted from the figures palm, crashing into many of the preoccupied bear-men. Their mysterious savior then raised its hand to the sky and when it dropped, so did lightning from the sky killing all but one of the remaining furbolg.
The last furbolg was still focused on the cage at that point, completely oblivious to the butt end of the sword that was rammed into its skull. The entity stood over the last remaining survivor of the Deadwood tribe with his blade poked towards the beasts throat.
"Tell me. Why do you not only deface a land that is your own, but a deity that made you in his image?" the figure asked. It was apparently a 'he' and his voice was extremely raspy and he pressed the end of the blade a little deeper into the throat to taunt the creature. It laughed in return.
"Why does not matter," the furbolg gargled. "What's done is done." Its laughed turned into a maniacal cackle as their savior ended the furbolgs life.
They could still not make out who their hero was but they both watched him from behind as he aligned his palms on the wards that were placed on the cage. Each time a ward broke there was a loud sound that echoed throughout the area. The creature turned to them, still not proving one hint of a clue as to who he was. His cowl shrouded his entire identity.
"Run," he said. "There's a camp to the east of here. I'm sure your familiar with it." And they were. Emerald Sanctuary it was called. Some of the greatest healers in kaldorei history were positioned their trying to cure Felwood of its corruption.
Adarin had regained enough strength at this point to shapeshift back into his night elven form but his wounds remained in the same approximate areas. There was an arrow wedged into the back of his thigh, which he painfully removed. He had quite the lump on his head and his back was torn up, as well, adding to his discomfort. He could barely move.
Rahoda had a nice gouge in his side from the furbolgs bite and another one in his neck, though it wasn't as severe. Despite all that, he was able to get to his feet and pull a small leaf from his pouch that he strapped to his belt. He crushed it in his palm and he rubbed it into his wounds. The neck healed almost instantly but the side had only healed a little bit, though it would continue to do so over time. He rushed towards a limp Adarin and threw him over his shoulder.
By that time, the mysterious figure had unlocked all of the magical sigils on the cage. The door to the cage creaked open and the bear spirit roared mightily. It leaped from the cage, though this wasn't the Ursol that any of them had been familiar with. He was a perversion of what he once was. His flesh had returned to him and he was no longer of the spirit world. He was a dark brown and though some of his skin and organs had returned, not all had, giving him a rotten appearance.
"What have you done, my cousins?" was the last thing Rahoda heard the cloaked figure say as he ran for his life. He heard loud shouts and roars from behind him but he kept on running. Adarin was right. Something was following them and whoever it was hadn't come to their aid at a better time, albeit in complete secrecy. Several more thoughts ran through the taurens mind as he ran at full speed for the Emerald Sanctuary.
---
When Rahoda awoke the next morning, he placed some of the salve on his wound that Greta Mosshoof, the expeditions botanist, had given him. It had really helped to mend his wounds for the most part. Even Adarin, who was still sleeping at the time, had healed most of his injuries. Rahoda nudged his friend to awaken him.
"What did they do to him?" Adarin asked, though his words were barely audible. "What did they do to Ursol?"
"It would appear that they were trying to use him for their own nefarious ends," Rahoda answered, though truthfully he didn't know for sure.
Adarin pushed himself to the end of the bed, still trying to wake himself up. They took a little less than an hour to get ready and made their way towards the shops that the Emerald Sanctuary had to offer. Adarin got some more arrows and even managed to find a staff that was to his liking. Rahoda bought himself a large warhammer and even a few reagents that he would need for some of his spells. They both spent about an hour crafting something, out of leather, to carry their new weapons in.
When they finished, they headed south towards Astranaar. Adarin and Rahoda both shapeshifted into their feline forms; a nightsaber and a horned lion respectively. They dashed at great speeds, trying to recover the time that they had wasted because of their injuries.