((Author's Note: This story was inspired by World of Warcraft. Izusa is my character from the Thorium Brotherhood server. This story, although using characters I've created personalities for, is copyright Blizzard Entertainment 2005, please don't sue, etc.

This story is rated M for some language, some adult themes and violence.))

Izusa Witch Doctor Extraordinaire

A World of Warcraft fanfic

By Heidi Cautrell

~Izusa's Homecoming.~

Ana'thek the Cruel was aptly named, Izusa decided as she stood before the towering Skullsplitter leader. He sneered down at her, his eyes full of contempt. Casually shifting his armor with a lazy roll of his shoulder, Ana'thek settled onto his haunches. Only once before had Izusa met the leader of her tribe and that was the day she'd been cast out.

"Half-breed, you are no longer welcome. Too long have you conspired with the crone, Isme. And now that she is dead, you have no one to speak for you. Your sire has cast you out and now so does the tribe," Ana'thek had said. A moment later a spear grazed Izusa's ear. Eyes wide with fear, she turned and ran.

They chased her for almost a week before finally letting her go. She sustained a few wounds during those seven fear filled days and nights, but nothing that wouldn't heal completely. She realized in that moment that being a troll was a curse and a blessing. If she hadn't been a troll, she likely wouldn't have survived the chase nor the spears and arrows and even the poison darts they threw. Then again, if she hadn't been a troll, they wouldn't have tried to drive her off nor hunt her like an animal.

Now she stood before her people's leader once again and she wondered if it wouldn't have been better to help the orcs raise the dead. Considering her past with her people and Ana'thek's reputation for torturing and eating his victims, the shaman was thinking that perhaps being damned by Samedi might almost be better. Almost.

"So you've come back, half-breed. Eager to die are we?" The sneer on his face was so fierce it looked painful.

Swallowing the bile in the back of her throat, Izusa croaked, "I am not here to die, great one. I'm here to warn our people."

The sneer, slowly faded into a frown. His burning eyes roved her face and then her body, which had been stripped bare. Fidgeting under his stare, Izusa hoped that rape wasn't also on the agenda. Not that it would matter in the end if she were dead.

"Warn us of what?" said Ana'thek, finally. He gestured to one of his concubines, who scurried forward with a bowl filled with red liquid. Izusa didn't have to be a troll, a healer or anything else to know that the contents were blood. The smell hit her nostrils, causing her gorge to rise. Swallowing it back, the shaman cleared her throat again.

"Two orcs stole an artifact from me. They wish to rais Atalai priests from the dead."

The leader stared at her as he drank. Wiping the excess blood away with the back of his hand, he barked out a laugh. "And? What of it, half-breed? You want your trinket back, is that it? Isme instilled the love of gold in you too deeply, I think," said Ana'thek, his sneer returned full force.

"No!" Izusa shook her head wildly, beads and feathers flying from her bedraggled hair. "No, I don't care for the stone, but I care that they will anger Samedi and Lukou! I care that they will destroy us all if they let the priests invoke Hakkar!"

The crowd around them gasped and made warding signs, spitting and even prostrating themselves at her mention of the Blood God. One did not say his name lightly.

Snarling, Ana'thek jerked to his feet. One moment he was standing in front of her, the next he was standing over her and blood filled Izusa's mouth. She couldn't feel anything yet, but she knew he'd backhanded her. Why couldn't she see out of her right eye? She tried to swallow, tried to breathe, instead she choked on her own blood.

Her last coherent thought was that she would have been better off with the orcs, at least she would have had a chance to steal her gold back if she'd helped them.

~Izusa Is Redeemed. Sort of.~

Izusa's eyes fluttered open. Light filtered between the leaves high above her head. Unable to make out more than a few distinct shapes, she closed her eyes. Turning her head to the right, she groaned as her swollen cheek touched something solid. The solid object was cool, however, so she kept her head to the side.

"You were stupid to come back, you know." The voice was female and one she recognized, though it had roughened as the years had moved on.

"I know, Mama," she said softly.

A swift kick to her ribs, had her curling into her right side, a soft moan the only sound she could manage.

"I was never your Mama. You were a curse from day one and I'll never claim you, half-breed," the voice hissed. Another kick caught Izusa in the middle of the back. Izusa could only groan.

"You never were a good mother anyway,Izma" said Izusa, her voice barely a whisper. She opened her eyes finally to stare up at the woman who had give her half of her fuschia hair color. She was older now, wrinkles forming around her eyes, yet she still looked in her prime despite the fact that she was likely in her fifties. It helped she was one of the top females in the camp, having born all males except for Izusa--whom she would not claim.

The elder woman snarled at her offspring's comment. Pulling back a fist, she was caught off balance by a hand around her wrist. Gasping in surprised, Izma whirled toward her captor. Ana'thek snarled at her, then flung her to the side by her wrist as if she were a rag doll. Izma lay where he tossed her.

"What are you doing? She's a wretch, a bastard, a slut! Don't touch her!" Izma said wildly, fearing that Ana'thek would attempt to bed Izusa.

Throwing back his head, the leader laughed, then took one lunging step and backhanded Izma, throwing her into a nearby wall of ancient stone. "Shut your mouth, wench. No one, let alone a female," he said the word with contempt, "tells Ana'thek the Cruel what to do."

The statement was a dismissal like Izusa had never heard. He turned toward Izusa as she tried to rise to her knees. She would not face him without a fight. He crouched before her, grasping her neck with one wide hand. Her breath hitched, but he didn't squeeze, he merely held her.

"My scouts have confirmed the truth of your words, half-breed," he said. His gaze roamed over her face as if he were searching for an answer to a puzzle.

"And the artifact?" said Izusa, not daring to ask after her gold. Not yet anyway.

With his free hand, the leader of the Skullsplitters pulled out the rough stone disk Izusa had lost, holding it up so that the runes on the front showed clearly in the afternoon light. He regarded her once again. "This was given to you by Isme?" Izusa nodded. "It is used in a ritual of the dead?" She nodded again.

Spinning the stone between his fingers, Ana'thek let it fall into his palm. He squeezed. A popping sound followed by the trail of dust had Izusa's eyes widening. He'd broken a piece of stone with one bare hand. She swallowed against his grip on her throat.

"The orcs are no longer a problem. And now, neither is this. You show your face to our people again, and I will kill you where you stand. Understood?" Ana'thek put his nose an inch from Izusa's. She nodded jerkily as she whispered, "Yes!"

Tossing her away, he rose, shot a contemptuous glance at Izma, then strode away, his footsteps coming close to shaking the ground. The broken stone was still gripped in his hand as he left.

Izusa climbed to her feet. She was still naked and it finally occurred to her it would be a bad idea to be in a state of complete undress when she returned to the jungle. Spying a robe laying nearby, Izusa snatched it up. With one last glance at her mother, who snarled at her from where she lay slumped and bleeding, Izusa pulled on the robe and headed out of the ruins. She paused near the entry way and looked back.

"No wonder my Bloodscalp father sent you away. You probably made a lousy slave," said Izusa, but there was no anger in her voice, but there was no pity either.

She turned away then and left for good. On the way out, she stopped to ask the whereabouts of the two orcs. After several discussions, she found they'd been left for carrion near Zul'Gurub. Izusa grinned widely as she hurried off. Maybe, just maybe, no one had picked them over and she could get her gold back.

~Izusa's Revenge.~

A solid kick to the orc's thick, green head told Izusa he was dead. Of course the seven spears and many more arrows might have done that as well, but she wasn't about to take any chances. Her sienna gaze shifted to the twin of the first orc. They looked very much alike, but Izusa guess they were merely brothers and not twins. When she leaned closer she saw that their skin coloring was off slightly and their tusks had different slants to them.

"Not dat it be makin' a difference now, ya mon? Ya both be deadah den Samedi's peckah," cackle Izusa. Launching herself to the right of the bodies she began dancing around them in circle. Her whole body moved, belly undulating, feet shuffling, hips swaying, arms swirling, hair flying--the shaman flung herself into her dance.

Her foot hit something solid, throwing her off balance and drawing her attention to the orc's belongings. They'd been left where they'd been dropped. The tribe hadn't bothered with their things. It made sense, if they hadn't even bothered to make a meal of the orcs, they weren't about to take anything from them either.

Dropping to her knees, the sounds of the jungle muted behind the thudding of her heartbeat in her ears, Izua dug into the worn leather pack, tearing off buckles and even biting through a cord. Inside the sack were rations. She tossed them aside, they were rotted. Next she came across a small leather pouch with several slots inside that held half empty vials of varying liquids. She took a sniff. "Poison," grunted the troll woman. She set them off to the side. She dug into the pack again and again, discarding or setting aside as she determined what she could keep or sell and what was worthless. Next to the poisons she'd added several knives, throwing weapons and a short sword and a ragged velvet pouch full of gems. Pawing around one last time, Izusa was about to put her loot back into the bag when she came across a scrap of crumpled paper shoved into the corner of the bag.

Pulling the paper into the light, Izusa read:

#
WANTED: Dead or Alive

Gren & Sol of the Shatteredhand

Bounty: 1,000 gold a piece

Bring them or their heads to The Salty Sailor Tavern.

Signed Baron Revilgaz #

A loud burst of laughter scattered the near by birds and scavengers that had gathered because of the carrion smell. Once Izusa had taken her fill of loot, the bodies were theirs for the taking. Every thing from the pile Izusa had made was unceremoniously shoved into the leather bag. With another cackle, the shaman leaped nimbly to her feet and took off into the jungle.

"Dis bein' bettah den mah gold, cause it bein somebodeh elses! Samedi, ya dead bastahd, I owes ya one!" Her shout echoed through the trees. A chilly wind swirled around her, sending goose bumps racing along her lithe body. Only a pause in stride indicated Izusa's acknowledgment of the warning. Samedi heard her and would keep her to her promise. It was a bad omen or perhaps a good one, but at that moment, the swilding witch doctor didn't care.

"Watch out Booty Bay, de Witch Doctah is back!"