Voodoo Child

Chapter 3 - Home Again

By Genoscythe

Three days had passed, and Xan'Jin felt himself growing more awesome by the day. He could now stealth easily (although maintaining it was still a problem), Zureetha had regretfully given him a shiny new dagger and vest, and he had just finished the biggest confidence-booster of his life. Just like the orc that had awoken him on his first day, he had been given a blackjack and a death sentence for any peon caught sleeping on the job.

As he handed the bludgeon back to Foreman Thazz'ril, the grizzly orc nodded approvingly.

"You've added some new dents to this thing. I'm impressed," he said with a hearty laugh. "I think you're done here."

Xan'Jin's face lit up. "Wha's next? Razor Hill?"

Thazz'ril laughed again. "Kid, your next stop is Sen'jin village. From the looks of you, I take it you know how to get there?"

Xan didn't respond. His jaw was too busy hanging limply.

"What?" Thazz'ril questioned, seeing the look of terror flashing across Xan'Jin's face. Then, it suddenly dawned on him. "You must be the guy that got dragged here a few days ago."

"Yes!" Xan practically screamed; he was getting sick of people saying that to him. Suddenly, an idea struck him. "Hey, can I keep dat blackjack?" Foreman Thazz'ril looked as if he had been slapped.

"What! You're kidding, right?" He held the bludgeon tightly to his chest, as if protecting a baby. "I can't live without something to beat people with!" Xan hung his head.

"Figures..." he muttered, taking a look back at the Valley of Trials. It was a miserable looking place, made even more so by the nightmares he had garnered in the past week. He waved to Zureetha Fargaze, who looked the other way. Scanning the valley for any more familiar faces (though he knew he wouldn't find any), he turned around and took a step forward. This single step landed his face into the armpit of an exceptionally large, burly orc. When Xan pulled his head free, he recognized the orc as the one who had 'helped' him in the cave three days ago.

"Hey, it's you!" Xan said needlessly. The orc swiveled his head around to glance at him.

"And you are...?"

"You helped me in da cave three days ago."

"I helped a lot of people in the cave three days ago."

"Remember fightin' wit Zureetha Fargaze?"

"Ah, yes. But you don't look female or orc. Nor do you look like a warlock."

Xan'Jin bit back an insult. He wanted to be on this guy's good side.

"I'm Xan'Jin, master rogue."

"Granik, uh...master warrior." Nodding as if satisfied by the conversation, he turned his head back and began walking out of the valley once more. Xan'Jin held out his hand and caught up.

"Wait. Mebbe we better team up?" He said, hoping it sounded casual enough. Granik stopped, then bellowed out a laugh. He was clutching his sides by the time he stopped.

"...oh. You were serious."

"Ja," Xan said through gritted teeth. Suddenly, the orc turned around and held out his hand.

"Sure. You could use a mighty warrior like me."

Xan'Jin held out his hand as well. "Seriously?" As their handshake became complete, Granik jerked his hand back. He immediately burst into laughter again.

"I'm joking, son. Get on back to the Den. You look like you could use a few more days there." Before Xan could offer any kind of reply at all, he burst off into a run and disappeared around the corner. In shame and anger, Xan slid down to his knees. This wasn't how all the legends had started. But then again, Xan had to remind himself that he wasn't a legend, and never could be.

He felt a presence behind him, and a small black piece of wood slid into his hands.

"You need this more than I do," Foreman Thazz'ril whispered.

Hours later, Xan found himself standing at his parents' doorstep. He knew he could avoid all this, but he wanted the chance to square everything away with his family. He was also hoping to whack his dad with the blackjack a bit.

After several wary knocks, the wooden door scraped open and Xan'Jin's mother was framed in the doorway. A momentary look of shock passed through her face, which was soon replaced by a warm smile. Xan's mother was known for hiding emotions.

"Xan! What a surprise!" She exclaimed cheerily, and behind her Xan could see his father eating at the dinner table. The scarred troll leaned back on his chair to take a better look at his son. The expression on his face was hard.

"Dey kick joo out already?" Rai'Jin said as Xan stepped forward into the room. From behind his back, the blackjack swung out and struck Rai'Jin across the forehead.

"As a matter o' fact, I be here on business," Xan growled. However, his father hadn't taken the blow well. He stood, slamming his fork down on the table. Xan'Jin suddenly realized how much taller and stronger his father was. Instead of a smack on the face, Rai'Jin went into stealth. Xan looked to his mother, who seemed horrified. Rai had never used any of his rogue skills on Xan before.

A moment later, Xan felt an incredible pain shoot up his side. He doubled over, feeling his father re-materialize behind him. The older troll grabbed Xan's shoulder and pulled him back, somehow producing a thin black wire and stretching it over Xan's neck.

"Gimme da stick, son," Rai'Jin's voice said gruffly. Pain still coursing from his kidneys, Xan handed the blackjack to his father. Wasting no time, the old rogue smacked Xan in the back of the head, and the young troll merely grunted. He didn't want his dad to know that it hurt like hell.

With a sigh, Rai'Jin dropped the blackjack and walked back to his place at the table. "What 'business' joo be on?" He questioned harshly.

"I gotta talk to Gadrin 'bout that."

"Das Master Gadrin to joo," Rai'Jin interrupted.

"He never calls me Master," Xan shot back. His father fixed him with a pitying stare.

"Joo not gonna last tree years," he said disdainfully. Xan noticed that his mother had conveniently disappeared.

"Well, I got more important things to do," Xan said with a note of finality. "Be seein' ya." He turned and picked up the blackjack on his way out. As soon as he slammed the door, he cursed himself. That had accomplished nothing, save a bruise on the head. Oh well, to hell wit' dem, he realized. I'll be at Razor Hill by next week. Deciding to sleep at the inn, Xan turned in early that night. He had no intention of returning to his old haunts.

Xan'Jin awoke to a torrent of freezing water. However, this morning, he was more shocked than annoyed. He stared up at his father from the inn's straw mattress. "What da...why..." He was so surprised that he couldn't find words to show quite how surprised he was.

"No son o' mine be sleepin' late," Rai'Jin offered as explanation, swinging a bucket in one of his gnarled hands. "I had hoped you made a habit o' it by now, son."

Xan'Jin finally found the right words. "How da hell did you get in here!"

Rai'Jin shrugged. "Innkeeper let me."

"What about..." Xan struggled to point out another absurdity to this scene. "What about da others-" he stopped, as he realized there was nobody else sleeping at the inn. He blinked, trying to clear his thoughts. "You're not gonna keep doin' this the rest of my life, are you?"

"Long as I can. Once you be outta Sen'jin, I can' do noting 'bout it. 'Till den, expect to be wakin' up at six."

"It's only six?" Xan asked furiously. "Don' suppose you're gonna ask me to do chores now, eh?"

"Das Master Gadrin's job," Rai'Jin said with a toothy grin.

"I don' believe this..." Xan murmured, shaking seawater out of his hair. "I thought volunteering would get me away from dis..."

"Not as long as joo be here!" His father exclaimed triumphantly. "Now c'mon. I didn' wake joo up for no reason. Gadrin's waitin'!"

"You mean 'master' Gadrin?" Xan said with a smirk as he fastened his belt. Rai'Jin threw what was left of the water over him.

After a quick look around the village, Xan found himself standing before Master Gadrin, the chief of Sen'jin. "Oh, it's you..." Gadrin muttered, glancing warily at Xan as he walked up.

"Hey mon," he said casually. "Where be Minshina?" The only face unaccounted for in Xan's trip around the village was Gadrin's brother.

"I'm glad you asked," the tall troll said, though his tone indicated otherwise. "He was taken by Zalazane, the warlock on the Echo Isles to the east. And...he is dead." Xan's jaw dropped.

"Zalazane! Da crazy old fart wit all the skulls?"

"The same," Gadrin continued gravely. "Minshina's spirit was trapped within his own skull by Zalazane's magic. He is being kept with other skulls, in a circle of power on the largest Echo Isle."

"When did this happen?"

Gadrin paused for a moment, too pained to speak. "Last night," he finally said. "We have sent every able-bodied troll in Sen'jin to kill Zalazane and get my brother's skull back, but so far we have met with doom. All our true fighters have left to join the army, so all we have left are children and elders. Except, of course, for your father." Gadrin's voice dripped venom. It was common knowledge that Rai'Jin was both a strong fighter, and an incredibly lazy and dishonorable person. He would make a fine human, as many who knew him would joke.

"You asked him?" Xan questioned, already knowing the answer.

"He told me to swim out there and get the skull back myself."

"Knew it."

"I don't suppose you'd mind helping, would you?" Gadrin's voice was accusing.

"O' course. I knew Minshina too, remember?"

"Fine," the village chief said, almost sounding disappointed. "While you're there, slaughter that beast Zalazane and his army of hexed trolls." Xan nodded enthusiastically; until now, Zalazane had most kept to himself, but Xan was never comfortable with the idea of a hostile witch doctor living right next door.

Leaving Master Gadrin, Xan now faced the ocean and the distant Echo Isles. The morning seemed eerily silent, despite the alleged battle taking place across the sea. Xan'Jin took three slow breaths, trying to calm his nerves. People told horrifying tales of Zalazane, the mad witch doctor. Tales of disgusting curses, hexes, and cruel torture at the hands of his mind-controlled army ran through Xan's head with no consideration for his resolve.

If he couldn't face the Burning Blade warlock three days ago, then what chance did he have against the mighty Zalazane? Xan gripped his dagger tightly. Do dis for Minshina, he told himself. More importantly, do dis for your career...

With a deep breath, he plunged into the ocean. Surf crawlers scuttled out of his way as he knifed through the water. If there was one thing Xan'Jin was good at, it was swimming. He surfaced halfway to the first Echo Isle. However, the sight before him made him stop in his tracks. A huge green form was running across the island, holding two objects in his meaty hands.

"The witch doctor is dead! The village is saved!" A familiar voice echoed across the sea. Xan hung his head. In one of Granik's hands, Zalazane's head hung by his scraggly hair. In the other, a skull that could only be Minshina's rested between massive fingers.

"Once again, stealin' my glory..." Xan muttered, turning dejectedly back toward land. Granik beat him there, and by the time Xan made it back to the village, he was talking with Gadrin.

"I thank you, Granik. And my brother thanks you..." Gadrin said, and Xan could swear he saw a shimmering image of Minshina waving at him.

"Anytime, Master Gadrin!" Granik said dutifully, giving a military salute.

"Ah...yes," Gadrin said, looking uncomfortable. "Now, please leave. We must mourn my brother's passing." Granik broke his salute and ran off down the street. Now, Xan figured it was safe to approach the chief.

"You let an orc help?" Xan cried in disbelief. Gadrin turned sadly to him.

"I had no choice. He overheard me talking to Lar, and just ran off toward the Echo Isles." Xan was glowering with rage.

"How many died before Granik jus' walked in an' killed Zalazane?"

"At least five. Lar Prowltusk and Master Vornal were the last to leave, and they haven't returned yet."

"They'll be fine," Xan reassured him. We can 'ave Granik to thank for dat.

"Thanks for trying, by the way."

"No consolation prize?"

Gadrin burst into laughter, which suddenly ceased. "No. Besides, you were actually on speaking terms with Minshina. Seeing his death avenged must be a reward in itself."

"I guess..." Personally, Xan had been hoping for something a little more material. Say, a pair of gloves.

"Well, I do have some spare gloves I could 'loan' you," Gadrin said as he retreated into his tent for a moment. When he returned, he carried a pair of leather gloves. Handing them to Xan, he said, "Make us proud, Xan."

"No promises," the deep blue troll said with his now-perfected roguish grin.

"At least help out a bit when you come back in three years."

Xan scowled. "Don' worry. I make it a habit to be different from my papa." For the first time since seeing him, Gadrin laughed honestly. Pulling on the gloves, Xan turned around and made his way out of the village. He knew there were plenty of other army-sanctioned quests for him to take up, but he was tired of Sen'jin already. Plus, the idea of being woken up again to a bucket of seawater didn't appeal too much to him.