Disclaimer: …. Really, what do you people want? Don't sue me, don't blame me, and I swear to the gods I won't come into court wearing pajamas. I don't own Warcraft, I don't even legally own my own car! So. Really. What do you expect?
A/N: 'Ello and welcome back everyone. I'm sort of bored, so once again I take my fingers to the keyboard and begin construction of another chapter of Raincaller. Writing this story is a roller coaster, up and down, up and down, up and…
Anyhow, welcome to the wonderful world of Var'Jun's crazy personality Kyn. He is, by far, one of the most fun characters to write for. Especially when he's drunk, I love that troll when he's drunk. You'll be seeing more or Var'Jun drunk and with hangovers later. Var'Jun has many redeeming qualities, but doesn't often show them. His past will unravel, just as everyone's will in this story. Cairne is an interesting thought…..
And for Ashti, it's always nice to see some new reviewers. I must admit, Raincaller started as a rather jagged story because I was unused to writing for Yawna, but now I have her down pat. She is rather hard to write for though because she refuses to fight. What am I gonna do when they get into an actual battle? Anyhow, yes Var'Jun did split. That troll has quite an agenda, let me tell you. I ain't tellin' you where he went though!
And Crimson Reaper, shame on you for ditching me for Arthas! Just joking, thanks for popping by. I'm going to end up killing you all with cliffies.
And wow, stay out of my brain Bloodyfields. No more spying around my house! Anyhow, you people like the OMG thing a lot….
So, without further ado, here's is a very nice chapter eight.
Chapter Eight: Web
Var'Jun sighed softly. His arms still tingled with the memory of Kat's warmth within them. He resisted the urge to turn around though he knew no one had followed him. He had told them not to anyhow, though somewhere inside he had wanted any one of them to call out or beg him to stay. Anyone but Malchior that was.
The troll shook his head as if to rid himself of the image of the paladin. His blind hatred had stuck a stone into the warrior's stomach which seemed to make him writhe and wriggle. He couldn't fend off the thought that there was something of Malchior he had missed, something below the usual paladin's righteous thoughts and below the human's insatiable nature to prejudice against those unlike him.
As the troll plodded on his feet felt heavy. He had grown quite accustomed to the constant noises of traveling with others. He missed the companionship, the feeling that others around would defend him if necessary. He chuckled to himself, recalling his constant bickering with the priestess and the utter disdain that Gwyn and Yawna had put towards these arguments.
"I could do with a good cup of ale right now," the troll voiced aloud, "Anything with alcohol really."
Something behind him whined softly. The troll spun around, his sword already drawn and glimmering with the half light that now spanned across the plains that were doused in moonlight. Var'Jun had already recognized the sound as the whine of a wolf. Though it was not the usual eager whine of hunger it was a wolf and Var'Jun was not prepared to be cornered by a pack of the beasts.
Instead he was met by the green-eyed gaze of Weary Traveler. The ash grey and black wolf yawned widely, sitting down on his haunches and scratching at a flea on his ear. The wolf's tongue lolled out almost comically and he seemed to smile at the troll.
"Yawna sent you after me, didn't she?" The troll asked with a bit of hesitation. He knew it was foolish, but the wolf seemed almost human at times and even though the troll expected little answer he still felt the need to ask. "To watch me?"
To the warriors surprise Weary Traveler nodded, his fangs gleaming as the lupine grin spread wider. The troll shook his head, chuckling to himself despite the fact that he began to feel the nostalgic biting of his need for his friends.
"Leave it to Yawna to get a wolf to do that."
"Now," the voice continued with a slight rasp, the dagger curling around to lightly touch the throat of the priestess, "Let's see exactly what this camp holds." In the dim firelight Kat looked over. Already she could see that Yawna, who had been on guard at the moment, was holding up her hands in resignation.
"Sorry," Yawna smiled coolly as she spotted Kat's face, 'I couldn't kill them though. You know me." She chuckled lightly, her eyes roving to a figure by her side. Kat recoiled when she realized it was an undead. The hunched figure's eyes blinked red from deep set in his head.
"Quite alright, my tauren sister." the figure in front of her called out. Upon further inspection this too was revealed in the half light that another undead was holding the dagger to her neck. This undead was dressed far more finely though, with ruby and wine hued robes that made her suspect him a summoner.
The undead straightened up, his polished voice oozing with a charm that made the priestess want to gag. "They don't seem to be hostile towards each other, except of course the paladin. But otherwise, tauren mistress, I promise they won't be harmed."
Yawna nodded, her face half shadowed. But behind it Kat thought she saw something glimmering in the tauren's eyes, and it was an anger she had never seen from the tauren before.
"Tie the Alliance members up," the undead in front of Kat roared to his unseen troupes, "Don't harm any of them thought, lest you want your life to be taken away from you." The trouped shuffled forth and Kat felt a few dead, cold hands grasp her own and pull them behind her, tough ropes tied around her wrists not so tight so that they hurt but still were not escapable.
"You are now my prisoners, for you were caught in my territory." the undead summoner cleared his throat and farther off Kat heard Malchior yelling and Gwyn grumbling to herself.
"Your territory?" Yawna demanded, looking about her as if to check she was still in Mulgore, "Since when do the undead own the tauren's holy lands?" Despite the tauren's usual calm sense she felt her hair stand on end when around this new undead. The summoner was strange, and try as she might she could sense nothing from the undead's mind. No feelings floated around him, like he had raised a barrier against her.
"How long has it been since you have been into a well built town?" The undead demanded, completely ignoring the tauren's question. He twiddled with his robed impatiently, gleaming fangs bared as he smiled to himself. Everything was going according to plan for the summoner.
"Long," Yawna replied through clenched teeth, "Moons now. Why?"
"Because," The summoner answered with his polished tones of patience, "The undead have claimed this area of Mulgore as their own. We received no complaints from the tauren, they seem to be subdued as of late. Dwarves are moving in from the west, but they've done nothing. Anyhow, any Alliance dog caught on these grounds is our prisoner by right."
"Can anything be debated?" Yawna asked, her eyes roving over to where Gwyneth was standing. The night elf was staring at the undead summoner, her eyes flashing in the night. Though the tauren could not see her face she felt something strange creeping through her. Gwyn, as an oracle, always had some degree of a wall built against the Awareness, but Yawna had been trained by Two-Moons to penetrate such things. The huntress winced as a blast of anger came from the elf.
The summoner scratched his chin and interrupted her with his rasping voice. Yawna had to strain to understand the summoner through his strange accent as his rotting mouth tried hard to form words that were meant for supple lips.
With a pang of sorrow Yawna recalled how she had struggled at first to understand Var'Jun through his thick, jungle accent. It had been hard at first, but the accent that would be compared to our day Caribbean style soon grew to another personality trait of the troll. Yawna pushed these thoughts aside and wondered briefly whether Weary Traveler had found the warrior.
"We could take you back to camp. The Alliance members will have to come, but you my tauren sister, you have a choice. If you come we can debate the outcome of their trespassing, but if not I can guarantee that they will become… toys." The summoner cleared his throat before speaking again, "My troupes are always looking for sword practice and the… the night elf and human are most appetizing for soldiers stuck alone and lonely after battles."
Yawna saw Kat lurch away from the grasp of an undead holding her, her face a mask of horror as she realized what the summoner was saying. She was soon overtaken by two more of them, a stifled cry escaping her lips and starting ranting from Malchior once more.
"I choose to come," Yawna replied evenly, looking at the summoner as if one would look at a piece of rotting meat offered to them as a meal. "I'm Yawna" She held out her hand, the three-fingered digit a peace offering. Yawna winced as the rotting hand took her own and a great surge of emotions ran through her fingertips. Mostly there was contempt and the feeling made Yawna instantly sick to her stomach.
"My name," the undead smiled, " Is Thralk."
As they entered camp Gwyneth froze. She retched softly, startling the undead that was guiding her and making him mumble something about night elves. The oracle doubled over, almost collapsing on the ground. Her captor kicked her legs roughly, alerting Yawna through her Awareness.
"Hey," Thralk barked, his voice rough and grating, "I made a promise they would not be harmed. I'll mount your head on a stick and roast it up good if it happens again, do ya' hear?" The undead shrugged at the huntress.
"Can't help some things. You can go aide her if you want. I trust you to keep her by you though, because if you don't I'll make sure the humans take the elf's share of the pain."
Yawna nodded and as Thralk spat out more orders for the undead Yawna made her way over the elf. Gwyn's long hair was hung in her eyes and she seemed to be having trouble breathing. As Yawna approached she sensed a huge amount of fear coursing through the elf's mind.
"A vision," Gwyn hissed as Yawna drew near enough, "I had a vision. A terrible one, Yawna. There was so much blood." The elf trailed off before allowing Yawna to help her stand properly. She looked up into the calm tauren's face, her mind ringing with her vision.
"Just death," Gwyn began to walk again, aware of the undead around her, "That's all I saw Yawna. And then," again the elf paused, "I heard Two-Moons speaking Yawna. He told me to beware and… another prophecy… more than you have known."
Just before Gwyn was about to repeat their old mentor's warning Thralk called back to the worried tauren.
"I'm afraid you'll have to leave your friends now. They must be taken to the prisons, though I assure you nothing will befall them without my consent. You may come with me to discuss our little arrangements."
With an apologetic look to the elf and humans Yawna continued after the undead summoner. Her fur stood on end in this camp, bad feelings resonating through the area. The soldiers were angry and afraid, their eyes burning into the tauren's back as she followed Thralk.
They reached a tent, the large structure compiled of heavy Kodo leather and thick poles of wood. The summoner welcomed inside, barking more orders for food and drink as he let the flap close. Inside was a heavy throne of wood and gems, though it seemed out of place. There was a table surrounded by chairs and a map laid out on top of it, areas marked in red and purple dyes. The entire tent smelled of blood and old meat, making Yawna retch and gag before composing herself.
"Sit, sit," the summoner offered his smile widening as the undead brought them bread, cheese, and wine. Pouring a glass of the burgundy liquid Thralk began to sketch out his point.
"You are traveling with these Alliance member's are you not?" Thralk asked softly, his voice dipped in sweet sugar but his tone still worming its way through, like a tainted meat disguised by heavy spices.
"I was traveling with these people of Azeroth, yes. The truth is that the Horde and Alliance are no different. We are all part of this world and should be working together to revive the damage we've done to the earth."
"Spoken like a true tauren, sister." Thralk chuckled into his wine glass, the burgundy liquid staining his fangs a dull berry hue. He put down the cup thoughtfully, his fingers folding up into a steeple.
"But what you really wanted to talk about is your… friends. See, I have really no choice but to let the soldiers do with them what they will, but somehow that weighs down on my conscience too much with you here pleading for their release." Thralk chuckled as he stared at the tauren. Spreading his own Awareness out slowly he began to try and probe the huntress's young mind. His anger was doubled behind his mental shield as soon as he found the almost impenetrable wall Yawna had cast around her mind.
Yawna's ear twitched. She almost immediately felt the tug at her mind, the odd feeling that someone was trying to intrude. She didn't look about though and not once did she suspect Thralk of the deed.
"I was hoping you could just let them go, yes. What have they done to you?" Yawna's question was an annoying gnat in the undead's ear. He snorted, his lip curling in slight contempt.
"We fight them because they burnt down our villages and killed our families. This latest outburst of tactics is not to be excused. They can't leave their wake of destruction from their bloody boats here in Mulgore." Thralk smiled to himself as the tauren looked down at the table with her eyes full of sorrow.
"You must have been affected by the fires then," Thralk stood slowly, easing himself up and making his robes rustle. He walked around the table until he was behind the tauren, his breath bated with anticipation.'
"But so have they," Yawna chose not to answer the question. Her mind was buzzing with a warning that made her hackles raise. She could feel Thralk breathing on her neck through her thick black mane and braids. She tensed, mistrust pouring through the Awareness like milk from a pitcher.
"Well, maybe Two-Moons was right then," the undead leaned down and hissed into her ear as the tauren's eyes widened, "This is the time of Burning."
Before the tauren could say anything else he straightened up, a satisfied smirk gracing his countenance. The pain that coursed through the tauren at the mention of her mentor made the undead feel powerful and he opened his mouth slightly as if to taste it on the air.
"Please leave me now. You may walk about camp for a short while whilst I think of my answer to your request. Beware of the soldiers though, sister, they have loose tongues and lies in their heads." The stunned tauren allowed herself to be guided out by the malicious summoner. Her reveled at the thought of her confusion and utter torment as Thralk let Two-Moon's name slide through his lips.
As soon as the bewildered tauren exited Thralk called in one of his men. The undead squirmed as he was faced by his leader for the mad glint had come back into Thralk's eyes. The undead had heard tales of his leader's cruelty and near madness. The undead shook.
"Fetch me the elf that was taken prisoner. I'll meet her in the stone dais, set guards in a twenty foot perimeter outside of it." Thralk sat watching the undead , who was waiting for more orders, shake like a leaf in Autumn, " What are you waiting for? Go!"
Well Gwyneth, let's hear your excuse." Thralk spoke to the air, his teeth clenched.
"You know, I'm not going back. Staying with me is not going to help, wolf." Var'Jun wrinkled his nose, picking at the remains of his meal and the fading bits of daylight. The troll threw the remains of the Plainstrider at Weary Traveler who threw back his head and gulped it down.
"Besides," the troll spoke half to himself and half to the wolf who he knew couldn't answer, "It's better for all of them if I left. I'm going to turn myself in anyways, running is far too hard." The troll threw back his head, laughing hard in an almost insane manner. "If there's anything left of my village that is. They'll be surprised to see me too, like a ghost waltzing into town."
When the first traces of dawn peered their heads over the hills they found the troll still fast asleep. He stirred in the light, sensitive and full rested. But the nagging thoughts of his friends still plagued Var'Jun and as he slowly moved south his strength deteriorated quicker than usual.
"Over the next hill," Var'Jun promised the wolf that followed him, "And then you'll hear yelling. Oh yes, they'll be so angry I've returned. It's too bad Malchior's not here right now, eh Weary Traveler? He'd so love to watch me get dragged away by my own friends." With another bitter laugh Var'Jun crested the hill, his old homeland meeting his eyes with the fires of a still burning hatred.
Var'Jun began, shaking his head and muttering the old rhyme to himself. "Oh what a tangled web we weave…"
Sorry about the shorter-than-usual chapter. See, I just got this new game, Katamari Damacy and it's really fun. I mean, c'mon, I haven't even beaten it yet. But since this chapter is so short I'm gonna try and get another one out soon… maybe. If you're all lucky. I've been procrastinating lately. And to tell you the truth, I have very right to (or not). I'm in New England, it's all snowy and warm and drippy and cold here… if that's even possible. But that makes me lazy. And really, this is no excuse. shakes head Anyhow, leave a review and I promise to get back soon, everyone pray I don't brake it….
