Chapter 23 - Darkspear

"No tricks now, mon. De warchief said not to hurt you, but dats only if you behave." Dalrus' captor said as she slowly stepped out of his back, the dagger still firmly pressed against the side of his neck. "Not dat you would get far if you tried. You be right in de middle of our camp."

Looking back over his shoulder, he finally managed to see exactly who had managed to get the drop on him.

The first thing he thought was 'Woah, she's pretty.' The second was: 'OK, she's not human. Still pretty, though.'

The woman was almost twice his height, matching most orcs in size, but lacking by far in bulk. In fact, her musculature resembled that of a regular human woman, if she had decided to take on the life of a soldier and developed them through constant exercise. This Dalrus could tell because of how scantily she was dressed; there was a tight crimson wrap around her chest, but not over her shoulders. Around her waist, she wore a belt, from which a thick leather loincloth hung all the way down to her knees. A pair of brown bone bracelets were strapped around her forearms, and a necklace adorned with sharp fangs from beasts Dalrus couldn't identify was hanging around her neck. Along with a single leather anklet on her left leg, that was all the woman wore, leaving the vast majority of her body fully bare, and nothing to the imagination.

Her skin was a deep shade of blue, like the sea. Dalrus imagined she belonged to the same race as those ugly blue men with tusks he had seen earlier, but she was so different from them, it was almost like she was from a whole different species. Her face was incredibly human shaped, save for a slightly longer nose, and tiny tusks jutting out from her lower lips, these only going halfway up her cheeks and being as thin as Dalrus' fingers. Her wild red hair surrounded her head like a mane, with a thicker patch combed into a ponytail behind her head.

She also had long pointy ears - not nearly as long as an elf's, of course, but longer than his - with at least four bone tooth earrings on each. Her hands only had three fingers each, and when he looked down, Dalrus noticed her feet only had two toes. "So you be a human, eh? First time seeing one up close like diz. But you be smaller den de other ones we killed today. Are you not a man yet, mon?" She was saying as she examined him, her eyes gleaming with interest as she placed her hands on her hips and leaned forward to get a better look at him.

Dalrus lifted a brow. "Uh... Yes, I am a man. I'm just... Probably younger than most humans you saw." It was hard not to be distracted by her rather... Well developed body. Naturally, being as skilled in stealth as he was - as well as a blooming lad at that specific age - Dalrus had taken a peek of women during their more... Private moments back in Gilneas, so naturally he was no innocent angel when it came to a woman's body. But never had he seen someone like Watu. "I hope you don't mind me asking, but uh... You're not an orc, right?"

She simply threw her head back, and laughed. "Dat be a good one, mon. Can't say I blame ya for not knowin'. Our leader only decided to join Thrall a few days ago." He was utterly mesmerized by that cocky expression she had, as if he were a rat trapped between the paws of a cat. "We be de Darkspear trolls, mon. Spend most of our lives on de southern kingdoms, until we were driven off to de Darkspear Islands. Den one day, Thrall helped us out of a big pinch, and our leader Vol'Jin decided our future was with him."

It was quite a bit to take in at once. Of course, he had heard of trolls before. Murderers, poachers, thieves, and practicants of some crazy religion that demanded blood and sacrifices. Kids would be told stories about how if they were bad, a troll would drag them off during the night and offer them to their evil gods. "I... See." And then his eyes were attracted to Watu's hands. Held in between those thick, long fingers, were nothing less than Dalrus' own daggers. "Hey, those are mine!" He protested, pointing at his weapons.

"Wat, these?" Dalrus watched as the woman spun one of his stabbers over one stubby knuckle. "I picked dem up in de battlefield earlier. Thought dey looked pretty, so now dey be mine. Anyway, dat be enough chatter, mon. I'll be taking you to my tent now. Warchief said I should watch you." Then, using Dalrus' own daggers, she poked the boy in the back and directed him towards the exit. He had no choice but to lower his head, sigh, and walk as instructed.

If he thought the orc camp was busy earlier, now it was practically a bee's hive. Even as the moon was high in the sky, many people were shouting and running back and forth carrying crates full of throwing spears to the watchtowers, as well as hastily trying to fortify walls and erect more spikes out of them. For once, no one was paying Dalrus much attention, since it looked like they were far more focused on the battle already in progress.

"Dey be busy." Watu casually said as they walked under the pale moonlight. "Would be nice to join them, but diz be fine too. I never got to watch a human before. All the others who attacked us back in the isles wind up dead before we take them prisoner."

Dalrus looked back in surprise. "Wait, they were attacking you? All the way out in the isles? Why?" He asked, perplexed. He would imagine driving trolls off the shores of Stranglehorn would be enough.

"Who knows, mon. People be killing each other over silly tings. Maybe because we have six fingers, and dey be having ten. I can't believe how you manage to work so many little tings at once. And they be so tiny, too! I bet they break real easy." She chuckled to herself, then led Dalrus towards the western side of the camp. "It be diz way, mon. No funny business now. You be in de Darkspear territory, and most don't like your kind much."

"Not like anyone I met today liked me much either." Dalrus said, his wrists burning from having worn those cuffs for so long now. Damn things were pretty heavy, too. They didn't bother him much at first, but after wearing them for so long, his arms were feeling very tired now.

Amazingly, the troll hutts managed to look even more rustic and tribal than the orcs'. Most were basically a stick on the ground with a large cloth over them, or four sticks holding a larger cloth that did little more than filter sun or moonlight. Most trolls were simply laying over stray mats or on the floor itself.

The trolls were also very varying in their features, most notably, their tusks. They came in a dozen shapes and sizes, but only the males sported those gigantic tusks that were as long as their heads. They also wore ritualistic paintings and tattoos, and some even sported several bone piercings all over their faces. A few gave Dalrus sideway glances, but most ignored them completely.

That was, until suddenly there was a loud 'thud' from a stick hitting the ground, and a heavy troll voice said: "Hold it right dere."

Dalrus and Watu turned around. It was a wonder how the old troll speaking to them could keep his head up. His tusks jutted downwards from his jaw before bending back up and circling around his head like a ram's horns upside down. His entire face was covered in black and white paint, giving it the ghastly resemblance of a skull. He sported a thick bone piercing through his nostrils, and his long green hair had many more bone adornations of creatures Dalrus couldn't identify. He wore a ragged robe, and on his hand was a long wooden staff, which Dalrus presumed he had used to draw their attention earlier. "Watu. You be bringing bad juju into our midst. What are you tinking, girl?"

Now every single troll had stopped what they were doing to look up and stare at them. Dalrus began to feel nervous. Watu, however, looked annoyed. "Diz be the warchief's orders, Tal'din! He say I should watch the human prisoner until the battle is over. No bad juju here."

The skull faced troll, who Dalrus assumed was Tal'din, squinted his eyes and approached the duo, his gaze fixed on the human boy the entire time. "Can't you feel it, girl? Diz boy be touched. Bad juju hangs around him like a cloud. The shadow got its eyes on him."

"Hold on, what?" Dalrus said, both of his brows perking up as the troll simply didn't stop walking until his face was right on top of Dalrus', which prompted the boy to lean back to prevent their noses from touching. "Look, I don't know what you heard, but no... Juju or whatever touched me, alright?"

The troll's eyes were a deep shade of violet, and Dalrus felt like they were sucking him in as they stared, unblinking, into Dalrus' on. "You be marked, boy. You went too far in. De shadow is not like a bat. It cannot be tamed and taught to accept a master. De shadow is a savage, wild beast. It only knows hunger. And you gave it a taste of you, mon. And now it be wanting more."

He felt a cold grip in his heart, and then, as clear as if a person were actually whispering in his ear, he heard the words: 'He is dangerous! He wants you dead! Kill him first! Your weapons are within reach! You need only reach for them, and do it!'

Dalrus merely coughed, then shook his head. "I have no idea what you're talking about... Sir. Now, if you excuse me, I believe I'm late for my interrogation, or... Whatever you do to prisoners." He nervously looked up at Watu, who was peering back down at him with a curious expression.

Tal'din did not move. His eyes switched from Dalrus to the troll woman escorting him. "You be wary, girl. There be no turning back for him now. Sooner or later, de shadows are gonna sink their teeth into him, and like a hungry shark, dey won't let go." With that ominous prophecy, and much to Dalrus' relief, the troll turned back around and walked away from the duo.

"Now dat be sometin'. What did you do to get the shadows so hungry for you, mon?" Watu inquired as everyone else began to resume their activities... Although Dalrus did notice a lot of them seemed to be avoiding getting too close to them now.

"I told you, I have no idea what you're on about. I'm perfectly fine." The boy stated, his gaze now fixated on the ground between his boots. 'No one must know about us... You must kill all who discover our secret. Kill them before they kill you!'

"Whatever, mon. We be here. In you go." They had arrived at a slightly more well built hut than most in that area. This one was actually closed, with the four corners of the tent nailed to the ground. Watu pushed Dalrus inside, then followed him afterwards.

There wasn't a lot of room in there; the two could barely stand up together. Hanging from the walls of the tent were a few leather bags full of herbs and bones, and in the middle of the tent was a huge patch of furs, which Dalrus presumed the woman used as her bed. Next to one of the bags was a huge hunting spear, even bigger than the woman was, with a wide, leaf-shaped tip. "Make yourself comfortable, mon. We gonna be here for a while now." Watu declared as she sat cross legged. She reached up for one of the bone-filled bags and laid it over her lap, which made the entire thing rattle loudly.

"Right..." Sighing, Dalrus lowered himself against one of the fur patches, a moan of relief escaping him as he was finally able to rest his wrists. He watched as Watu began to pull individual bones out of her bag, then threw them onto the dirty floor in front of her, only to pick them back up and toss them again. Pressing his lips, he ran his eyes over the insides of Watu's tent once more, but there was literally nothing more for him to observe. "Soooooo..." He said out loud after a couple minutes of the woman enjoying her little bone game. "Your name is Watu, right?"

Without looking up from her bag, she said: "Dat's right, mon. Dat be my name."

"Lovely. I'm Dalrus." With a little grunt, he laid on his back on top of the furs, his shackled hands now resting over his torso. "So... What's it like where you come from, Watu? These... Darkspear Islands?"

The rattling stopped. Looking up, Dalrus noticed the troll was staring at him, a new handful of bones in her grip as she looked like she was about to toss them. "Why you be asking me dat, mon? Ya planning to do sometin'?"

Dalrus simply shrugged. "Not really. I just... Never had a conversation with a troll before. So I figured I'd try to get to know you a little more."

She looked confused, her head even tilting to the side slightly. "Why?" She simply said.

Now it was his turn to be confused. "Well... Isn't that what you do when you want to understand someone? I know next to nothing about your people. Like my master used to say, ignorance only breeds more conflict."

Watu said nothing that moment, and finished tossing her bones instead. She stared at them for a while, then suddenly she threw her head back and laughed again. "You be a funny one, mon. I never heard of a human who wanted to know more about us before. Only kill."

He shrugged once more. "Well, maybe if more people were interested in chatting rather than waving weapons around, we wouldn't be at war like this."

And then suddenly there was a shadow over him. Each of the woman's huge muscular thighs were straddling his head, with her body looming over his face from above, her face peering down at him from an upside-down angle. "What you sayin', mon? Dat we should just talk tings out? And what about de dead? What about our losses? What about revenge?"

His heart raced within his chest, his rational mind telling him this was an important conversation to be having as it could be the first steps towards a healthy diplomatic relationship, while his young blooming mind could only focus on the fact that woman had her knees around his shoulders and if he lifted his head just a little more he'd be able to peek under her loincloth. "Of course there is all that, too. Trust me, I know. But if no one backs down, there will always be someone wanting revenge and justice. Your enemy can feel pain and grief the same way you do."

She then reached out for that huge spear laying against the tent's wall, then she held it against her chest, those deft blue hands slowly rubbing the shaft as she pondered. "De spirits can't rest until you give dem rest. And for dat, you need to make de people who killed dem pay."

The boy pinched himself through his clothes in order to focus once more. "Well, yeah, everyone knows that. But... You know, the same goes for the enemy. The people you kill... Their spirits will also be restless afterwards, won't they?"

Watu spat to the side. "Pah! Let dem! It be deir own falt for attacking us in de first place!"

Dalrus lifted his hands in a peaceful gesture. "So... If they stopped attacking... Wouldn't that solve the issue? That's what peace is all about. Nobody kills anybody, nobody needs revenge, nobody dies an angry spirit."

It actually looked as if that thought had never crossed the woman's mind. She was quiet, now idly spinning that spear in her hands. "Dat won't work. Life is fightin'. Life is killin'. It's de way tings be. Kill, or be killed. Peace is nice but it will never happen. Not until one side kills de other."

That managed to distract Dalrus from what she was doing to the spear's shaft. "Eh... Maybe I'm a dumb child, then. But I'd rather try and fight for a world where folks are allowed to live a carefree life without the fear of being slaughtered out of nowhere."

Watu laughed again, then, both to the boy's relief and his disappointment, she got up and leaned back against the side of the tent. "Dat's just silly. We fight for each other. We protect what's important. Family. Your tribe. Nobody can protect everyone. Dere always be fightin', mon. Dat's why we are warriors. We learn how to fight and kill so they die instead."

Dalrus sighed. "Yeah, I suppose that's how life seems to go around here..." Dalrus was reminded of his early years in Gilneas... And how things had turned around so much since then.

He heard a little clank, then looked up. Watu now had his daggers on her waist. She had long, sharp bones in each hand, and appeared to be scratching a hole through the dagger's guards.

"Hey, those are my daggers!" He said, instinctively trying to get up, but quick as a serpent, Watu raised her huge two-toed foot and pushed him back down against the floor by his neck. He coughed. "Give them back, they were a gift! From my uncle!"

Watu simply grinned down at him, her foot squeezing his neck a tad harder. "I told you, mon. Dey be mine now. And I tink I'm gonna give them a bit more jazz." Pinned down by her leg like that, Dalrus had no choice but to watch helplessly as the troll completely removed the guards and covers from both of his daggers, leaving the spiky steel completely bare. "These be some good weapons. But I make dem better." She proudly declared, then pulled out another bag from above.

Again, Dalrus had no choice but to watch as the woman began applying modifications to the weapons. She added little bony spikes to the pommels, as well as little yellow gemstones at the bottom of each blade. She then wrapped a thick dark cloth around them, and attached three sharp fangs to the back of each dagger.

He lost track of time while she worked, but by the time she was finished, Dalrus' daggers were nigh unrecognizable. Each of them resembled the mandible of a beast, with those yellow gems resembling eyes peering from the shadows. She had even carved what appeared to be ritualistic lines over the flat sides of the blades, which added even more to that fearsome look. They also looked much bigger than before, too. The handles were almost twice their original size, and those extra details she had inserted added even more length to the blades, making his weapons resemble short swords rather than knives.

"Much better!" She proudly said as she spun the daggers back and forth over her knuckles. "Now these be decent weapons! Dat's some quality steel you had dere, mon. All it lacked was a little enchanting... And dese bones help a lot, too. I knew keeping these fangs until now would be worth it!"

Dalrus had to hold back the urge to shed a tear as two of his most beloved belongings were soiled beyond use for him. Even if he were to recover those weapons, they were now simply too big and too heavy to ever be effectively used by a human. "Yeah... That's great." He mumbled. "Look, if you don't mind... I think I'm gonna catch some sleep now, alright?"

Watu didn't even look down at him, obviously too proud of her own handiwork. "Sure, whatever, mon. Lay down anywhere, but if you step out of the tent, I'll chop your leg off."

A shiver ran up over his spine. "Duly noted. So, uh... Good night." Too tired for a witty retort, Dalrus laid down on his side with his back turned to his guard, closed his eyes, and almost immediately regretted his decision.

"Your chance is here... Seize it! Slay her with the weapons she so foolishly crafted herself! Bathe them in her blood! Then seek their leader, and claim his life as well! Vanquish all your enemies!"

'You know, I kind of liked it better when all you did was try to put me down. Now you're sounding like a psychopath and it's starting to make me feel uncomfortable. I'm afraid I'm gonna have to ask you to move out of my head.'

"You know you crave it. You want her dead. You hate her, and all her people for what they have done. They want you dead as well. They want to burn your home and kill all you love. Kill them first. Do not give them the chance."

'Yeah yeah that's grand and all but you mind letting me sleep for a bit? Seriously, I won't be able to snap and go on a killing spree if I'm too tired to even lift my arms.'

"The more you avoid us, the closer we get... You cannot run. You know it to be true as well. It is only a matter of time."

'Cool story, mate. Go tell your friends or something, I just want to sleep.'

"The moment approaches... Even you have your limits. And you will reach it... Very soon. This loss is nothing compared to what you have yet to lose..."

And then he could smell fire.

Dalrus opened his eyes as the cries of the Horde filled the night, a war horn blowing off to the distance. And then he heard Thrall's loud, booming voice echo through the night.

"THE HUMANS ARE ATTACKING! LOK'TAR, WARRIORS!"