Obligatory disclaimer: I do not own World of Warcraft, or I would have gotten more of the details right.
Author's note: Second (or really, third) chapter tonight. Don't say I never did nuthin' for ya.
Bruim watched curiously as the lanky, black-haired troll approached her. He moved with the rolling, self-assured gait that all male trolls seemed to have perfected by puberty. His leather and mail armour was not showy, but clean and well-kept, and the broad expanse of his shoulders attested to regular use of the bow and full quiver at his back. A hunter, Bruim decided, though it took her a moment longer to spot the sleek, felid shape of his pet, sliding through the shadows of the grave markers, nearly invisible in the fading light.
"Greetings, traveler," she hailed him, and he raised a hand in response. As he came closer, Bruim could see that the trollish hunch of his shoulders was more of a sag, and his eyes were lidded and tired. She sensed no danger from the lone hunter, so she raised her hands and cast a swift healing spell on him. She was rewarded with a grateful nod and a groan, and the troll stopped to stretch both arms over his head, spine popping audibly. He was slightly taller than her when he straightened.
"Thank you, I've missed that," he said, in lightly accented Taur-ahe. Confused, Bruim didn't respond immediately. The troll continued, "Are you… Bruim Mistrunner? A friend of Eikahe's?"
Bruim puffed air through her nostrils in surprise. "That is I. Did he send you with a message for me?" She flicked her ears back and forth, perplexed. She hadn't seen Eikahe in many seasons, though she thought of him, still.
"Not exactly," the troll drawled, ruffling one hand through his already messy hair. His shoulders slouched forward again and he clacked his teeth together noisily, apparently lost in thought. When he continued, he didn't quite meet her eyes. "He spoke of you, though. As a friend. He told me I could seek you out if I was ever… well. He said I'd know you by the butterfly on your chest, and your large, uh…"
"Udders," Bruim filled in, smirking. She hadn't thought Eikahe had noticed. Thoughtfully, she ran a hand over her collarbone, though she couldn't feel the silhouette her brown and white fur made there. She was a little vain about the large, butterfly-shaped spot. She was not a particularly beautiful tauren (though undeniably well-endowed in the curves department), but the natural marking made her memorable, even to non-tauren humanoids.
When the troll volunteered nothing more, she asked, "You are also a friend of Eikahe's?"
"I was," he replied, shifting to meet her eyes again. "He's dead," he added. His eyes were very blue, and very expressive. Bruim found herself thinking absently that he was attractive, even as the bluntly delivered news sunk like a rock into her belly.
She stooped slowly to kneel on the earth, lowing mournfully. The troll dropped into a crouch before her, elbows on his knees, long tapered fingers trailing in the dirt. He waited in silence as she collected herself.
"How?" was all she could manage, at first.
He clicked his teeth again before answering. His pet, a black panther, came to stretch beside them on the ground. When she turned her golden eyes on Bruim, they, too, seemed to shine with melancholy.
"We were in Tanaris, on a mission for the fu… uh, goblins," he began. "We found a goblin slave, a female human, in a caravan that had been attacked. She was… anyway, it's a long story, but Eikahe wanted to save her. He was trying to heal her."
When the troll stopped and showed no sign of continuing the story, Bruim prompted him, "How did he die?"
"Trying to save her," the troll said again, his voice rough. He lifted his head to gaze past Bruim, at the graveyard. His expression was fierce, but his eyes were distant. He was silent for a long time. Not much of a talker, Bruim thought in exasperation.
"Who killed him?" she asked, plucking at the short fur of her legs to keep from reaching out to give the troll a shake.
Blinking, he turned back to her as if in surprise. "Silithids." He ruffled his hair again, jutting his lower lip up between his tusks in a scowl. "And a… a humanoid silithid. I've never seen one before. They've been attacking goblin caravans up and down the route from Un'Goro Crater to Gadgetzan. I need to get word to my superiors," he added, trailing off.
"Qiraji," Bruim breathed, "There have been escalating attacks here, as well, with almost no survivors. They are gaining strength; testing us. You say the human survived such an attack?" She frowned, trying to remember the story the little human had told the night elves. There had been no mention of silithids, though she had spoken of being captured by a troll; hence the raptor mount.
"Yes," said the troll, "although I haven't really been able to ask her about it. I don't know any Common, and she was out of it for a while. She was burned in the attack. Badly. Eikahe was trying to heal her, but her slave collar prevented healing spells from having much effect."
Bruim huffed and glanced toward the camp. The human had been scarred, and burns would make sense. She had also been wearing a magic-suppression collar, and all the druids had been immediately dubious that it had been put there by a troll. Certainly this hunter was unlikely to have done so.
"Why are you here, troll?" she asked at last, not unkindly. "Did you come to inform me of Eikahe's journey to the Earth Mother?"
"N… no. Or, not only that." The troll glanced at her, and away again quickly. Bruim could tell he was considering lying to her. Compared to the stony, stoic face of a tauren bull, the troll's shifting expressions were as open and revealing as a human's.
No, she thought generously, not quite as dramatic as a human's.
"She left," he said finally, "and took my fucking mount." He sat back into his heels and looked at Bruim evenly. He did not elaborate further.
"Why did she leave," she enunciated slowly, "and why are you here, in Silithus?"
The troll clicked his teeth and ruffled his hair. "I was trying to get her away from the goblins," he admitted, "It's what Eikahe wanted." The troll looked sidelong at her, as if assessing the effect his words were having. "I brought her across Un'Goro in the hope that you, or one of the other druids, might be able to help her. To free her." He is being truthful, decided Bruim, with mild astonishment.
When he did not explain why the human was not with him, Bruim rephrased her question. "And what happened that led to the human leaving?"
The troll looked down and away again, rocking on his heels and clicking his teeth. When he spoke again, his voice was oddly muffled, and his accent slightly thicker. "I scared her, I think. I had to… to kill someone. And I yelled at her, but I never hurt her. She tried to… but I didn't, anyway. She's just so…" His sharp teeth flashed in a pained expression. "She's so human," he finished, as if that explained everything.
Bruim frowned, considering. "Flighty?" she guessed.
"Fucking maddening," snapped the troll, "and unpredictable. She does one thing, but she means another. Or she lies, but expects me to know what she is thinking, or feeling. How can I fucking know, when she seems to be feeling a hundred different, incompatible things at once?! Loas take her!" He flung his hands up at the last, his blue eyes flashing with anger.
The druid sat back a little from the seething hunter, watching him carefully. "So you want your mount back?" she guessed, tentatively.
"No!" he snarled, looking both startled and ferocious, "I mean, yes, of course. But I need to find her, to make sure she's okay. She's somewhere in this loa-damned place, with no fucking magic, no weapons, nothing. Fuck." He stopped, breathing hard, then added, "She's very small, with brown hair, and green eyes. Sort of. They're green and brown and gold. Like a forest." After a moment, he held up a hand from his crouched position, possibly to indicate her height.
Oh, Eikahe, thought Bruim, suppressing a wistful laugh. This troll of yours is dreadfully handsome, noble to a fault, and infatuated with someone he can never have. How like you.
"What was her name?" the tauren asked, stalling. As if there might be another human slave girl, about yay high, riding a raptor around Silithus, she thought gloomily.
"Lid'ta." The troll stumbled over the unfamiliar phoneme. He added unnecessarily, "My raptor's name is Jozala. She's red."
Bruim nodded gravely, trying to keep her expression serene as she considered what to tell him. "And what is your name, hunter?"
"Ga'vik." He did not give any additional title or information about his lineage, though this was not unusual for a troll. He was watching her keenly.
Bruim blew through her nostrils and nodded again, slowly, toying with a beaded decoration on the edge of her skirt.
The troll surged abruptly to his feet, anger and relief flitting over his face.
"You've seen her. She's been here. Where is she? Is she okay? Jozala?!" He looked toward the few small buildings, though it was obvious no raptors could be hidden there.
"She is not here, but she was." Bruim was glad she hadn't had to tell him. She could honestly tell Layo that the troll had deduced the truth on his own.
"Where has she gone? Have you freed her?" The last was said with an almost desperate note of hope, but Bruim began to shake her head before he had even finished.
"She did not come to me, or perhaps…" But probably not, she admitted to herself. "Regardless, none of us here have the ability to remove that collar. Even Layo Starstrike. You would need… it matters not. Her story was obviously a fabrication, and we rely heavily on the goblins for supplies here, Ga'vik."
The troll ran both hands through his hair in agitation. "Her story…? The goblins… have you returned her to them?"
"Not yet," Bruim said gently. "Layo ordered that she be taken to Commander Mar'alith, in Cenarion Hold. He will decide if she is to be returned to them. The Ficklespraggs may know more, as well – the goblin pair that deals in potions and reagents," she explained.
The tauren watched as Ga'vik wrestled with this information, shifting his weight and clicking his teeth. When he stilled, she knew he had come to a decision. Looking resolute, he adjusted the leather satchels he carried, crooked a finger at his pet, and gave a short nod in Bruim's direction.
"Thank you for the healing spell, and the information, Bruim Mistrunner," he tossed at her, turning toward the path.
"Wait," cried Bruim, getting heavily to her feet. "Surely you cannot intend to travel tonight, by yourself?!" When the troll didn't respond, she continued, "They are mounted – she on your raptor, and the night elves on sabers. There is no way to catch them tonight."
The troll stopped walking, but did not turn.
"It is very dangerous to travel alone in Silithus, now more than ever. They are mounted and well-armed, and will reach Cenarion Hold swiftly and safely, but there is no need for you to hurry, and risk your life. The Commander has grown… distracted, since his wife passed. He will not make a decision quickly. Days – maybe weeks."
Bruim cursed Eikahe silently. I hope the Earth Mother is scolding you for the mess you left, she thought. Leaving this troll to complete your impossible quest… and now, forcing me to assist him.
The tauren approached the troll and gingerly laid a hand on his forearm. "Rest here tonight, hunter. In the morning, I will travel with you to Cenarion Hold, and we will see about this… human."
After a moment, the troll nodded wearily and followed her back into the small encampment. He offloaded a large stash of hides and leather items with a trader before rolling out a sleeping skin beside Bruim's small hut. He declined her invitation to sleep inside the hut, stating flatly that he didn't think it would rain, but readily accepted the food and drink she offered him.
They dined in peaceable silence for a time.
"Did Eikahe speak of me often?" Bruim asked finally, unable to contain the question any longer. The troll gave her a sidelong look.
"I think he regretted the way he left things with you," he said, instead of answering her question. Bruim snorted loudly.
"The way he left things… do you mean when we fought so heatedly, I nearly made him a bullock?"
The troll continued to scowl into his bowl of desert dumplings, but she thought there was a touch of humour in the way his blue eyes crinkled at the edges.
"You would castrate him for becoming celibate? Don't you think that's a bit redundant?"
Bruim snorted again and poked at her food. "He did not become celibate, he simply refused to…" she gestured helplessly, "to do as he ought to do, to be who he was expected to be, to be…"
"Be with you?" suggested Ga'vik.
"Not only that." The tauren cast an irritated look at the troll. She wondered how much he knew about it. Dragging information from him was an excruciating process. She thought hard about her next question.
"Was he… with anyone, while you knew him?"
The troll shrugged and swallowed a mouthful of food before answering. "No, of course not. He was celibate."
"Any particular friends with whom he spent a great deal of time, though?"
"Me, I suppose."
"Any special interest, in anyone?" Bruim found she was unable to state the question more directly.
"Me, I suppose," the Ga'vik said again, and turned to her with an odd half-smile. His eyes were rueful as he spoke, "and we would have made a fine couple, too, if we'd been of the same…" he twirled his spoon vaguely, "…faction."
Bruim gave an explosive chuff of surprise, nostrils flared wide and ears pressed flat back, but the troll seemed unmoved by her consternation. He finished his dinner quietly, passed her the bowl, and stood to stretch majestically once more before moving to the bedroll he'd laid out earlier.
"You don't need to come, but if you want to, for Eikahe, I'll be leaving first thing." He began to tug off his armour, forcing Bruim to look away in confusion. "Good night, Bru."
The tauren wrinkled her nose in distaste at the nickname. At least Eikahe was not entirely alone, but did it have to be a troll? she thought. Now we have to go find this deceitful human, and the Qiraji are rising. Sweet Earth Mother, what next?