Disclaimer: Warcraft: not mine. Microsoft Word: not mine. Level 23 in Warcraft: pnwed

A/N: Well here we are with the next installment of Raincaller. I tell you, this story puts me in between a rock and a hard place. I so badly want to keep going with it all the time but sometimes I have to work on my other story too. Choices, choices. Ugh. Anyhow, I'm still in school so updating less frequently is to be expected. But I am getting out of school in about three weeks… or two, I can't remember… and so then I might be able to update more regularly and often. So, on with the reader responses!

Kyn, thanks a bunch. Malchior was fun to write for (sometimes) while other times I just found myself royally annoyed with him. But he did make the right choice in the end and we can only hope that he was saved by it. Sorry, I don't write my own reviews so it's not my fault I have more reviews. I'll read your story too (been busy) and let you know what I think. Anyways, thank you very much. I love writing Raincaller and I've been thinking about sending it to Warcraft just to see what they would think about it. If I ever publish anything you all would be one of the firsts to know.

Wow Crimson you actually liked Malchior? Miracles never cease. Yes, he did die and that was rather sad. I made it unsuspecting so that it would hit people with a shocking result. Just what I was hoping for. It would be nice if he could have a second chance (he might have been a good guy) but people die, especially when their stomachs are removed. Such is life.

No Dragoness, a scorpid was not the cause of death. I had planned it earlier when I first introduced the Murloc so I couldn't. No, Kat was not further traumatized. Not only did I think that would mentally break her but she was no damsel in distress. She has power too.

Hopefully you will al like this chapter. Thanks to the people who reviewed but had no questions or comments for me to answer (or wrote a reviewing novel like Kyn did.)

And here we are again…. (70 reviews!)

Chapter Eighteen: A Child of Fire

Thralk was not happy. In the very least he was angry, but to tell the truth he simply furious. The undead chewed at his fingernails, his worry vented until the sharp tooth slipped and his finger oozed thick, blue-black blood. The undead cursed softly before turning to watch the battle again.

The Murloc were losing badly. Apart from the tribe that had escaped to the opposite shore (something that Thralk did not think their minds were capable of realizing) the battle was going quite badly for the Murloc. Thralk smiled as the wind carried the scent of terror to him. The undead summoner's mind was at total peace with the terror, it was the feeling that he had gotten earlier that was scaring him.

The undead had known that Yawna escaped from his clutches, but he had certainly believed that by now the pesky Tauren would have died. Yawna had seemed more than an annoyance than anything else to the summoner until only a few days ago when he had sensed the first upbringings of power from the huntress. She had gained the control over water. Thralk had long ago realized that the two Awareness would opposites, but he never believed it would be in such a drastic way.

Thralk controlled fire. Even as he sat on the crude chair of his tent he could sense the Demon Wolf lingering just outside his mind ready to be called at will. But water, water was a different thing. Fire was, if he could excuse the drama, almost powerless against water.

Thralk sighed. He could only hope to find the tauren mistress before things went horribly wrong. The prophecy was still there, of course, and his 'untainted victory' was still fresh in his mind. But the undead lord could only think of how many ways things could go terribly wrong. He was a worrier like that.

A burly undead general caught his attention as he entered the tent. Thralk rose, trying to make a powerful figure. The generals were rather unruly, as it went, and they might not want his leadership. But Thralk could handle them. He always did.

"Sir," This one was loyal, at least, "The Murloc are vanquished now. Shall we send our troops in." Thralk couldn't resist a smile. At least his plan left him guarded and safe.

"Yes, make sure one lives. This must be made clear. One." Thralk eased himself back into his seat as the general went to prepare the troops. The humans would become so enraged with the undead if only one of their brave soldiers returned. They might even prepare for battle with the Undercity. That would cut a few of Thralk's steps out very nicely. The undead purred with pleasure, but stropped as he remembered Yawna.

"Soldier." he called, exiting his tent to find one of the many guards on duty. The undead battalion member stood stiffly in salute. Thralk was a feared but revered leader.

"I am leaving for a short amount of time. I'll be going North, not far into Elwynn Forest. At the dawn of the second day you can send me a troupe of two hundred men. If anything changes I will contact you." Thralk sneered as he saw the puzzled look on the soldiers face.

"What?"

"How will you contact us, Sir?" the soldier flinched. Rumor had it that if you looked into Thralk's eyes you went up in flames on the spot.

"I have my ways." Thralk slipped past the soldier and disappeared into the brush. The recruit shivered back as his leader left. Thralk was not one to be messed with.

Kat felt the cool breeze as the sun set. Var'Jun had finally stopped walking, his fevered pace stopped and now resting beside him on a hill far from the battle and Yawna and Gwyn's comforting fire. The grass tickled her ankles and made her want to hurry and race but she decided against this. Var'Jun had resisted all her calls before but now he seemed ready to talk.

"Var'Jun," Kat called softly before she approached the troll. She saw his back tense and the priestess sighed. She could feel herself failing as well and she knew what it was. The healing spell that she had used on Var'Jun was almost healed now. Though she did not posses the troll's unique ability to recover from serious injuries quickly she did have what her mother had always referred to as a the spell sleep, a deep sleep that followed a few days after a huge spell and would keep her incapacitated for a few hours.

Kat lowered herself down onto the cool grass beside the troll. The moon had risen deep and full that night like a serene glowing eye rested far above the world. In it's light she could see Var'Jun's face, his golden yellow eyes pinched at the corners from sorrow, his tusks glowing an earthy white, and his strands of lavender hair falling across his forehead and eyes. Kat took a deep breath, breathing in the smell of leather and life.

"Sorry for running," the troll did not turn to her, instead staring back into the eye of the moon, "I just needed to be away. From the battleground and the corpses and the smell of death that seems to follow me wherever I go."

"It's not your fault." Kat tried to reason, "Malchior made his own choice. I would rather he had lived and I had died if the guilt would lessen. But it's not your fault."

The troll turned to look at her now. Kat could see the thought and pain running through his eyes but he spoke with a level voice and a smooth tone.

"Malchior, he and I never shared any love between us. But he changed right before he died. He knew his right and wrong then, and only really then. If only I had gotten there a little sooner than none might have died. I almost feel like Yawna somehow. I want the fighting to stop."

Kat was about to speak when she was suddenly enveloped in the troll's warm embrace. Contrary to when Malchior had held her Kat was not afraid or tense. She could sense no further pursuit than just the trolls need to have her close. Kat relaxed in his grip.

"The fighting between us, so stupid, but even though it was unjust I still can't regret it. Fighting over love, maybe it was wrong but I wouldn't fix it. Ever." The troll sighed, resting his head on her shoulder.

"Fighting over love?" Kat felt as if she were floating in clouds. So light and smooth.

"Yours." Var'Jun seemed to barely be able to whisper this but he got it out anyways. His voice was soft and calm, his breath warm against her neck and shoulder. Kay could feel the light pressure of his tusks against her shoulder.

"Mine?" Kat's heart fluttered, skipping a beat and pausing as she felt the troll's grip tighten. He raised his head from her shoulder to look the priestess steadily in the eye. His golden eyes were hooded with contentment and he nodded as if unable to produce worlds.

"Oh," it was more a sound than a word because Kat was quite unable to string together any syllables at that point. She blinked as the troll's smile widened. He was looking quite pleased with himself now, chuckling softly. Kat suddenly wanted to be close to those eyes, to feel that breath on her face instead of her neck.

Var'Jun paused as he saw the priestess's face draw closer. His mouth dried and at the expectation he could feel himself tense and ready. But as the priestess's face hovered between his tusks, her lips parted in a mouth partially open with the same expectation, the troll found his own mind spit forth scenarios.

"Listen," Var'Jun grasped the human's shoulders, his eyes now glowing with sadness and regret, "Is this really what you want. For gods' sake I'm a troll, and no less the Prince of the Darkspear tribe. Whomever I marry is queen of trolls. And your own people, your old friends-"

"Shhh," Kat pressed a slender finger to his lips before he could speak any further, "This is more than I want. More than anyone could want." She took her finger away and drew the troll's face close to hers.

The first kiss was chaste and worrisome as if Var'Jun were holding back. The troll's muscles were tense and though he was excited his mind was still full of guilt. Kat giggled softly, purring smoothly, "Don't hide from me."

Var'Jun grew closer and under the watchful eye of the glowing moon the two joined together, much longer this time. If the moon could have called out a warning she would have, for this was one of the first in a series of events that would shatter Azeroth like a splintered tree.

On the opposite side of the once-battle Yawna smiled with delight. "You owe me five copper Gwyneth." the huntress remarked. She took another large bite of the dried fruit that was left from the nights pillaging. Gwyn had gone to the battlefield for supplies, Yawna waiting at the edge of a land that caused her so much pain.

"You cheater. You can sense his emotions. You knew he was going to kiss her just as well as you knew she wasn't going to push away." Gwyn's eyes smiled as she looked at the couple farther away on the hill. Those two deserved this.

"You are an oracle," Yawna sniffed, "You're supposed to see the future. Frankly I think you saw this even beforehand and you never told anyone. None of us have five copper as it is anyways."

Gwyn shrugged, "I've seen a great many things. I did see this, but it could be any full moon night and besides, the future is definitely able to be altered. Money is no object anyhow." The pair nodded, Yawna reaching down to pet Weary Traveler where he usually sat at her knees. The wolf was not there, however, and the huntress looked down with thought.

"Wonder where that dog went to." she remarked, looking around. "Oop, here comes Var'Jun. Wonder why he's carrying her."

Sure enough the troll warrior was cresting the hill the pair were on. In his arms he was tenderly supporting Kat, the woman collapsed in his arms. The troll's hands were supporting her back and the crook of her knees and he slowly lowered onto one of the already-spread bedrolls.

"She passed out." Var'Jun explained, his face warm and soft as he watched the rise and fall of the priestess's breath, "I suppose you two were watching, you nosy peepers. I thought I made her feint at first, but then I remembered her once mentioning a deep sleep that comes without warning after long spells. She's so funny sometimes."

"You look pleased with yourself," Gwyn handed him a bowl of soup, throwing in meat from a separate helmet turned pot over the fire. The troll took it with a whetted appetite, his shoulders hunched as he shoveled the food down."

"I'm taking first watch." He replied in between bites, "I can do with it. Still coming down from Fury anyhow. You girls can sleep."

Gwyn snorted as she pulled a bed roll over to her, "I catch you doing anything untoward to that girl and I'll have your hands in a bottle."

"I'd rather get my hands on a bottle thank you. Nice, swimming ale the color of a sunset." the troll closed his eyes in ecstasy, pleasure written over his features.

Yawna fell asleep with a warm feeling. Everything was going to be all right.

Everything was on fire. Yawna could see it burning, like time had slowed down and allowed only her to stand while the rest flailed. She could tell it was a dream, just by how fuzzy and silent it seemed. Yawna had always been lucid in her dreams. But this time was worse.

Children were screaming with silent, open mouths that yawned over the flames and boiled away. The entire country side seemed to have gone up, the trees moaning as they fell like people cut from their roots. No, maybe it was the other way around. Maybe.

A figure slipped from the fire's hungry mouth. It rose slowly, like a phoenix borne from the flames. When the smoke cleared from it's view Yawna could see the undead summoner who's image still haunted her dreams. Thralk smiled, a glittering thing full of teeth and malice. His voice was smooth and silky when he spoke, his words coated in milk that had gone bad.

"My Yawna, how you are so very illusive. But I finally found you." Thralk chuckled as he saw the tauren reach for her axe, "Are you going to kill me Yawna? Are you? I doubt it, you can barely be near anyone in pain lest take someone's life with your own hand."

"It makes me a stronger person than you." Yawna replied quickly, her hand limp at her side. She knew she couldn't kill Thralk. She knew she couldn't kill anyone. She might die even trying. But she assured herself this was not a weakness.

"Is that what your mother told you?" Thralk demanded, "Or maybe that's what dear old Two-Moons told you. He always was an old fool. But let me let you in on a little secret Yawna. It was not a fire or an Alliance member who killed Two-Moons but I. I killed your mentor as well as commanded the Demon Wolf to light fire to your village."

"No," Yawna cried out, "I'll kill you. I'll kill you." She leapt at the spirit but it was already too late. The dream dissolved around her accompanied by her mother's voice.

"Wake up Yawna, Wake up…"

"Wake up Yawna! Wake up!" Yawna snorted and started up, her entire body tensed and ready to fight as the effects of the dream made her hair stand on end. Kat's worried face loomed over her. The priestess now had lively color back in her cheeks, her hazel eyes bright and shining but now worried and slightly amused.

"You were dreaming."

"So I surmised." Yawna rolled over and stood slowly. The first thing she noticed was that Gwyn was already up, Var'Jun not long behind her as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. The second thing was Weary Traveler. The wolf was back, burs clinging to his fur and the remains of a quick breakfast in front of him.

"I woke up a bit early because I slept so deeply." Kat put in, smiling cheerfully at the troll as he rolled his sleeping bag up with clumsy and slow movements. Var'Jun was not a morning person.

"You're not rolling that tightly enough." Kat called to him, kneeling beside the troll and helping him with his morning blues. The troll grunted a thanks, his eyes narrowed as they stared at the ground. Yawna had never seen Var'Jun shy. It was interesting to watch.

"I need beer." the troll remarked, his sigh longing, "Just one bottle. Even a cup. Anything. It's been a long time since I've drunk."

"And that's good." Kat growled, "Your chronic drinking is going to get you in trouble. Besides, you have no reason to drink any time before noon."

"Ugh," Var'Jun sniffed, "You oppressive little Murloc." He dodged a half-hearted swat from Kat and danced around her before circling back on the group. His light mood seemed to have returned to him as had Kat's. It might even have been a fresh start for all the group.

"Still headed North?" Gwyn asked, "The Undercity is a long ways away. You know that, right?"

"Of course," Yawna replied, "To both your questions that answer applied."

"And what do you plan to do when we get there." Yawna faltered as Gwyn asked this. She had a basic outline in her head but even that seemed strange in her own mind. What's more it was dangerous, super dangerous that was. The only way to make it work would be distracting the Abominables and from the tales Yawna had heard of them she had no eagerness to do that.

"You'll see." She chose to reply with instead. Gwyn just shrugged, the camp cleaned and ready, and started off for the northern horizon.

"It's another Murloc camp. Please say we can finally rest." Var'Jun put as he raced back. He had been scouting ahead, the prospect of hostile humans and other things always a threat. Kat's face lit up as he returned, her hands which had been clasped tightly in anxiety now loosened. Relief was written on her face.

Most of the day was traveling. The group had only stopped for short breaks, the prospect of the long journey ahead hitting home when realizing that they hadn't even left the forest yet. Most of it had been talks of home, bickering between Kat and Var'Jun, and the occasional traveling song struck up. Only Gwyn and Kat could keep steady notes with Yawna and Var'Jun's baritone yanking the group down an octave and sounding off key. Yawna couldn't sing well in common at all and all Var'Jun could usually manage for common singing was a bar shanty.

"You sure it's not an ambush?" Yawna asked the occupied troll. The warrior had become quickly distracted by Kat, his bright yellow eyes sparkling as he watched her. "Var'Jun!"

The troll quickly snapped out of it, Kat's face blushing a deep crimson color.

"Right… I mean no. If they were going to ambush us the most strategist place would have been in the last Murloc camp we passed because it was open. And really the last one and the last one. It's fine here. And these ones had built structures so there's no tents."

"Fine, fine, fine," Yawna replied, "You pest. Go ahead, set up a camp. I'm just as tired as you all are." Yawna smiled, however, as Var'Jun laced his fingers in Kat's quickly and went running off towards the camp with her before she even had time to realize what was going on.

That morning the two had gone out to bury Malchior. Var'Jun used a broken broad sword as a shovel, burying the paladin where he had fallen and pushing the fallen knight's sword into the ground at the head of the grave. Kat had come back depressed and Var'Jun hadn't been much better. The mood had luckily lightened since then.

"Spending a little time alone, I wonder?" Gwyn remarked softly. She too was ripped from her prior grimness and was now as haughtily light as ever.

"I don't think so. Every, muscle in that troll's body is radiating eagerness but he doesn't want to rush her. Kat's been a bit jumpy. Remember the night we got out of Thralk's battle camp? She was really horrified then, no inch of her wanted any contact at all. I think something happened, the two aren't telling though. And I'm not pushing it. Whatever it is it was a delicate subject."

Gwyn nodded. "I noticed that, but then again I don't have the Awareness. I didn't want to say anything lest it might have been an argument between her and Malchior or her and Var'Jun. If it's a touchy subject there's no use irritating it."

The two arrived only shortly after Kat and Var'Jun. The pair were standing sadly side by side, Kat gripping Var'Jun's arm and the brave troll staring off sideways so he wouldn't have to look forward.

"I didn't go this far into the village before coming back. I didn't see this." The troll shook his head, looking down at Kat now and drawing an arm over her. "Don't look."

Yawna could sense the death already. She stepped past the figures of the troll and human to look at what had spooked them. Spooked wasn't quite the word now because Yawna knew that spooked applied to being startled. Yawna wasn't startled, she was just plain sickened. Before her was a pile of flesh. That was the only world that Yawna could find for it. It was not a pile of bodies or even a pile of a certain body part, just pieces. All Murloc and human there were arms and legs and heads and smaller bits like just toes and fingers. Some pieces weren't even identifiable anymore, just lumps of sinew and blood. The entire area reeked of death, the caustic smell like a cutting knife.

"My god." Gwyn whispered, "Who in the blue hell would stack all the body parts. Or shred them, for that matter. There's Murloc and Human there, not just one or the other. What side would stack them?"

"Do you smell that?" Kat demanded suddenly. She blinked, letting go of Var'Jun's arm to sniff the air and step over a few stray arms to get there. "It's weird. I smell something strange. Anyone else?"

Yawna too tested the air. Immediately the smell sprang out at her through the mist of the smell of the dead. It was a cutting smell as well, but this one was far more dangerous than bodies that were dead and could do no more to you.

"Fuel," she spit, "The kind goblins use in their machines."

"Bingo." Yawna barely had time to cry out a warning before she saw the Demon Wolf. The creature reared it's ugly head from the bushes, Thralk standing just below the slavering jaws that were already dripping liquid flame and lighting lines of fuel that Yawna had taken for water. The lines of fire spread, the roaring flames spreading a rift in between Yawna and he friends.

Gwyn disappeared behind a wall of fire that leapt and sprang on it's own. Var'Jun and Kat were forced to spring back as a similar barricade rose and blocked them from Yawna and the night elf. The only form left that Yawna could see was Thralk.

The Demon Wolf pounded through the flames, what was left of it's bony paws leaving deep marks in the ground. Thralk smiled maliciously as his creation flew out of sight on it's way to light more of the city. Behind Yawna she heard the bodies bake and sizzle.

"Bastard," Yawna spit mordantly.

"Yes," Thralk lazily let the fire travel up and down the bones that were his arms. "You're most likely right. I didn't have a father or mother. I was nothing. But now I am something."

"No," Yawna tried desperately to summon her powers. Water, that was what she needed. Water so calm and cooling that would soothe the flames and her biting heart.

"I who killed the people of your village, your mother, your mentor, the tauren that would have been your lover. I who will kill your friends and your hopes and your dreams. I who will kill you. I am everything and nothing maybe, but I will soon be the only thing." Thralk took a step forwards, the fire ran down his hand and cut a burning scar over Yawna's arm.

"Where is your mother now, your mentor, your lover? Where is your father, who abandoned your mother in her time of need. He knew of your power and he wanted nothing to do with it. He apparently would rather die." Thralk was close by the tauren now. He could see her struggle to reach the power that was hidden in her but could not be tapped.

"No!"

"It's true. All true." Thralk smiled, "Are you going to bring forth the power of water Yawna? Are you going to kill me? You couldn't do so in your dreams, literally of course, what makes you think you can do it here?"

"I can. I will."

"No you can't." Thralk circled the tauren, "I could be your father you know. You're mentor. Granted, not your lover. I daresay not. But I could get you one easily. This is not some anticlimactic 'come to the evil side' Yawna. This is 'come to the powerful side.' You can't run forever. I could help you. Tap that power inside and you could be great."

The prospect was a rich one. Yawna could taste it on her tongue, the riches that could be held. She could rule with force and with supremacy divine. Azeroth could be hers for the taking.

But then she remembered all the dead. Bolo whom she had so cared for. Her mother who had always been there for her. Her father who had risked his life to save her and died in the process. Her mentor, Two-Moons, who had died at the sword of the summoner. Malchior, who could have been a great man if only he had realized sooner or lived longer. And all the children, all the dead children…

"Never."

"Then burn." Thralk growled, "Burn in hell and regret what you could have had." With a flick of his fingers the fire sprang forth to engulf the tauren. At that moment Thralk had an even better idea. His smile twisted.

"No, I think the Demon Wolf can deal with you."

Var'Jun screamed. Every bit of him was on fire. He could feel it seeping through his skin. Kat had long ago been separated from him as a new wave of fire had come forth to continue burning.

The troll collapsed on the ground. His mind whirred and clicked, buzzing out on him before he had a chance to retrieve it. The troll wanted to blank out, wanted to escape the pain and allow the death to sweep over him but he couldn't. Not without Kat and the others…

'They're dead.' His mind told him, 'All dead. You have nothing to live for.'

Var'Jun managed to nod. There was nothing left for him. The troll closed his eyes…

… And opened them for what seemed to be only a few minutes past. He faltered, his skin on fire. Around him it was quite, no roar of flames or rearing holocaust that would have burnt through his mind and made him weep.

Only the smell of soot. Var'Jun sniffed and managed to stand after what seemed like an eternity of work. He wavered slightly, taking off his sword with more effort than it usually took to run ten miles without stopping. He used the weapon as a cane almost, supporting himself with effort.

"Kat?" his voice was scratchy. All he could see around him was soot and ruins. Black edges of houses and charred remains of what he couldn't tell might have been the pile of bodies or might have been his friends. "Yawna? Gwyn?"

The troll grew frantic, "Kat? Yawna? Gwyn?" He suddenly couldn't breathe. The troll sank back to his knees, his body shivering all over. He was sobbing, quietly at first until it grew in intensity and turned into a fit of sobs and chokes that rendered him helpless. All he could do was cradle his face in his hands and cry.

After hours the troll was silent. His body could no longer handle the weeping. He could only raise himself onto his feet again, eyes taking in the scene of destruction. He couldn't handle it. Yawna was dead, Thralk had gotten his untainted victory. Gwyn was dead, she would never live to save her mother. And Kat… Kat was dead… How could she be? The troll couldn't fathom it.

He needed to run. The burnt figure stumbled away from the land of death. He couldn't stand being there. Not with them all dead.

"I should have died with them." he hissed miserably to himself.

Wowy, wow, wow! I apologize for the cliffhanger and realize that I am extremely evil. I, Jahna, have a dark gift. Yes, you may tell me how evil I am. Go ahead, and I apologize.

That was terrible to write, I'm very emotionally shocked. And it started so happy! Don't worry, this isn't even close to the last chapter so please stay tuned! Please. And look below for my official letter of apologies:

I, Jahna, being of healthy mind and body, did write Chapter Eighteen of Raincaller with the knowledge that this constitutes the fact that a mob of doom might come to my house.

Sorry ;