Episode 6: Al'tabin the All-Seeing

In the afternoon, we docked at Yojamba Isle. I paid Ran for the journey; and Johnny and I disembarked while Ran and his first mate loaded and unloaded supplies. From here, they would sail west for a few days and fish for tropical squid. After that, they would return to pick us up and then sail back South to Grom'gol.

Yojamba was a small island of little economic or strategic importance. It was, however, culturally significant to the Zandali. The Island appeared in many ancient Troll legends.

Here and there, I could see remnants and ruins of what must have been glorious ancient structures. I wished I could have seen what the island looked like millennia ago, when the construction was intact.

From the dock, I walked up a short path to the central village. I spoke with the baker, bought some steamed buns, and got directions to the central temple. I could really get accustomed to life on an island. The food was delicious, the weather was beautiful, the air fragrant, and the exotic, local birds were not only a symphony to the ears, but a feast for the eyes as well.

The central temple was the most "restored" looking of all the ruins. Part of the building actually had a roof, although it was clearly not the original. The floor was tiled in clay, and no matter how quietly I tried to tread, my hoof strikes echoed throughout. There were large gaps in the stone walls, but the jungle behind them was dense. The lighting was deeply muted, even now, at mid- day.

I found Al'tabin with little assistance. He was an older Troll; lean and stringy. He wore only a long, batik skirt, and a leather necklace that was decorated with crocolisk teeth. He sat cross-legged with his eyes closed before some great stone tablet. A pleasant, woody incense burned in a small, clay bowl beside him.

I did not wish to interrupt Al'tabin's meditation and I did not want to loom over the great man as he attended to his spiritual needs. So I took a seat on the floor and waited for him to finish.

And I waited.

At some point, I must have drifted off. I awoke with a start.

"Wa mek dere big Tarren sleep a mi temple?"

"Oh, I'm sorry sir." It had clearly grown late and the braziers hanging on the walls had been lit. I scrambled to my feet and stooped my head in reverence. "I was waiting for you to finish meditating, and, well, I guess I didn't get much sleep last night."

I hoped that I had not offended him. It would be awful to travel so far, only to alienate Al'tabin with my first meeting. He did not speak.

"I came here to ask you a favor."

He made a foul face and cocked his head to one side and then the other. "Mi dun know ya." He turned and began to walk away.

I hurried to keep up. "No, sir, you don't know me, but I know you. I know of your reputation among the Zandali. And I was hoping..."

He surprised me by stopping in his tracks. "New bizniss a dis?"

"Um, yes sir, new business, I suppose."

He nodded his head and continued walking.

"I was hoping that you would come with me, to Orgrimmar, and discuss things with Thrall."

"Ah..." he said, but he continued to walk.

"I know that others have come down here and asked the same thing, but I was hoping... I'm sure Thrall..."

He turned to face me, and fixed me with eyes the color of the sea. "Al'tabin nah dween what a T'rall tell 'im. De spirits tell Al'tabin what 'im do."

"Um, no sir." I chased after him again. "But Thrall, like you, is very wise. Perhaps... perhaps the spirits would like... you to..."

"An' oo you be, t'be so large? Y'tell a spirits wa dem wan'?"

"Oh no, sir!" I rushed to catch up with the priest as he stepped outside of the temple. "But perhaps... we could ask... the spirits... if they would like you to go..."

Al'tabin sighed loudly, clearly getting frustrated that I was so insistent. "Y'talkin' to a spirits now, eh?"

"Well, sometimes," I said, "doesn't everyone?"

I thought I saw him smile. He slowed his pace a little and allowed me to walk beside him. "De spirits... dey ansa when y'talk a dem?"

"No, sir," I admitted. "But sometimes, I feel like I know what I should do afterwards, even though I didn't hear their voices."

Al'tabin stopped walking. We were in a sandy area, on the edge of the village. The sand had to be deep as the trees did not grow here.

"Y'Tarren a spirichal people. Y'do what dem tell y'do?" He lifted one bushy, grey eyebrow. "Ya dweet when y'dun like what dem say?"

That sounded like an ominous question, but I couldn't see any way to back down. I had, after all, asked him to do the same thing. "Well, sure."

"'Ow a Tarren talk a dem spirit, Sleepy Bull?"

Gah. I really didn't want him to call me that, especially if he did go to visit Thrall. "We build a sweat lodge, sir. Then we sit in it and talk to the spirits from there."

Al'tabin stared a moment in thought. "A'right, ya mek a sweat lodge."

"Here?" He nodded. "And then I'll ask the spirits whether you should come to Orgrimmar?"

"Mi sweat witcha. Ask dem spirit what dem want, togedda."