Voodoo Child

Chapter 7 – The Guns of Northwatch, part 1

By Genoscythe

It didn't take long for Xan'Jin and Argam Stonehoof to adapt to each other. Xan got free rides on Argam's back, and Argam got someone that wasn't imaginary to talk to. He wasn't sure if Xan actually listened, but it was the principle of the matter that counted.

After declining the Warchief's offer, Argam suggested they move on to the Barrens; a place Xan had only heard of in horror stories. He found out why. The place was dull, boring, mindless, hot, boring, mindless, and dull. A week after working with the Crossroads outpost, Xan was convinced the Barrens was hell on Azeroth. The Barrens was hell, and Sergra Darkthorn was Satan.

The details of that week will remain a secret, simply because they were dull, boring, and mindless details. The first truly interesting thing happened on the second week, when Xan was sitting atop a palm tree eating lunch. While this doesn't sound truly interesting, it was what was happening below him that mattered. He and Argam had been given an assignment by Tonga Runetotem to investigate some sort of mutant turtles, and he had taken a temporary break from slaughtering the hapless animals.

Xan pulled a waiting apple out of his right tusk and prepared to bite down when he heard a sickening crunch from below, followed by a string of Taurahe that could only be swearing. The white-haired troll waited approximately fifteen seconds for Argam's rage to cool off before he hopped down from the palm tree and took stock of the damages.

Argam Stonehoof was hunched over a limp form, his shoulders heaving and air pumping out of his nostrils like a steam engine. Noting that he was fine, Xan now looked at the turtle he had caught. It was cleaved in half, shell and all.

"Proud of ya, mon," Xan commented as he picked at the dead animal. It was an odd shade of blue, and had a strange haze in its eyes. "We got enough shell dis time."

Argam looked disconsolately at the trail of dead turtles behind them. All were smashed to bits. "We're just lucky this one didn't put up much of a struggle." Xan, with a little more effort than he would've liked, pulled off half of the creature's shell and flipped it over in his hands.

"Hey mon..." Xan began, looking intently at the underside of the turtle shell. "These things supposed to be all glowy?" He turned the shell over in his hands, and it struck the light. A flash of rainbow struck at Argam's eyeballs, but in a second it was gone. The hulking tauren shook his head.

"They're not supposed to be blue either."

"What's dis mean?"

"It means we take it back to Master Runetotem."

Xan looked stricken. "ALL da way back to da Crossroads? You know how far away dat is?"

"You make it sound like we haven't done it a million times already."

"I don' care to do it anymore."

Argam sighed. "Need a ride?"

Xan sighed. "Too much work."

Argam sighed again. "Have it your way." The next instant, Xan was struck by the shaft of his axe and carried into the air, where Argam laid the weapon on his shoulder. Xan found himself slung over Argam's back like a knapsack. He found that it wasn't all that bad, once he caught his breath again. "How was that?"

"Great...mon..." Xan coughed. Thus began the slow trek back to the Crossroads. Once again excluding the details of said trek, the travel-beaten pair found themselves in front of the commanding tauren who had sent them across hell in the first place.

"Here is the shell sample you requested, Master Runetotem," Argam said politely as Xan slipped off of his axe. Tonga Runetotem took the shell from Argam's meaty fist, and looked at it intently.

At length, he said, "This is most troubling. I'd like you to take this to Mura Runetotem, a relative of mine."

Xan perked up. "You kiddin', mon. I been Sergra's errand boy all week. Why can' you jus' figure dis out yourself?"

"I'm afraid I don't have the knowledge to understand exactly what this it. However, I do have an idea..."

"What is it, master?" Argam cut in before Xan could say something disrespectful.

"It's possible these creatures have been tainted by the Wailing Caverns. If that's the case, I'd like you to see Hamuul Runetotem. He should be able to formulate a plan for stopping this taint from spreading."

Xan scowled. He'd heard enough about the Wailing Caverns to know that he never wanted to go there. "We better take dis to Mura. Don' wanna make no rash decisions." Argam nodded in agreement.

"I would agree. She is currently helping our Forsaken allies at the Sepulcher."

Xan blinked, hoping he hadn't heard correctly. "Isn't dat...on the Eastern Continent?"

"It is, young troll." The tauren nodded sagely.

"You be freakin' crazy! Tonga, I been walkin' circles around dis place all week. Don' think I'll survive goin' all da way across da world..."

"Call him 'master'!" Argam whispered reproachfully.

"He's not mine," Xan shot back quietly.

"Well, you could always attempt to infiltrate the Wailing Caverns and uncover this mystery yourselves," Tonga said with a knowing smile. Xan cursed him out in Trollish.

"Don' expect us to do dis right away."

"Why not?" Tonga asked. Argam gave him a look that wordlessly asked the same thing.

"We got stuff to do."

"Like what?" Both the tauren asked simultaneously.

"Like..." Xan thought for a moment. Then, behind Tonga's tent, he saw a path. "Ratchet. We be headin' to Ratchet tomorrow."

Tonga raised a bushy eyebrow. "Why is that?"

"Ah, yeah. Sergra wanted us to pick up some more beer," Xan said, thinking quickly. He was quite pleased with himself.

Apparently, so was Tonga. He chuckled, saying, "I can believe that." Xan was immensely relieved. "However, this mission is vitally important. If we don't stop this taint soon, we may all be consumed." Now the troll was confused.

"If we be all you got to stop dis taint, you may wanna say your goodbyes," he said with a chuckle. Tonga wasn't amused.

"He may have a point," Argam said, the first words he'd spoken aloud since things had gotten ugly.

Tonga turned to glare at the shorter tauren. "I think I know what I'm talking about, young shaman. If a scrawny troll knew better than me about the Barrens, then I would have been out of a job long ago."

"No, I mean..." Argam fumbled with his words, taken aback that Tonga would suddenly become so fierce. "You may want to alert more people of this matter. Depending on the two of us is not only a bad decision, but less efficient in general. You should probably send some soldiers to Master Hamuul..."

"I'll make the decisions here!" Tonga bellowed. "And I decide...I should find another group to speak with Hamuul."

"Good man," Argam said, clapping him on the shoulder. He knew it would be pointless to argue over whose idea it really was. Leaving him no chance to call them back, Argam pulled Xan away and behind a dormant catapult. "What was all that about Ratchet?" He asked immediately.

"I'd rather walk to Ratchet five times den go to Lordaeron," Xan explained.

Argam gave him a stern look. "Do you have any idea what's on the Merchant Coast?" Xan shook his head. "Pirates. Bootleggers. Thieves. Worse."

"Worse?" Xan remembered that a few weeks ago, 'worse' had been a bloodthirsty rabbit. He decided that the threat level had risen considerably since then.

"Goblins," Argam said with a shudder. Xan almost laughed.

"Wa's so bad abou' goblins?"

"They're cheaters and liars! They can't see anything but profits! Nothing is sacred to them, not even the land! I'll bet they're raping the Earthmother as we speak!" Argam's eyes took on that slightly off-set look that alerted Xan of an imminent rage. "Monsters! The Earthmother will make them pay!" His bellowing silenced nearby conversations, and he was drawing an uncomfortable amount of stares. However, his frenzy was in full swing now.

With a warcry that wasn't entirely unlike a vicious moo, Argam unsheathed his axe and slammed it into the catapult. The wheels snapped, and the wooden contraption crashed to the ground. Now, the entire town was silent.

With a nervous look around, Xan grabbed Argam's wrist and led him to the inn. The inn that just happened to be on the other side of town, on the other side of all the astonished onlookers.

"See? Not dat bad," Xan'Jin insisted, taking a sip from his mug. Argam nodded in what he hoped was the right direction. Xan had blindfolded him before they entered the tavern at Ratchet due to the goblin innkeeper, and now the tauren was nodding at a provocative photo of a female goblin on the wall.

"If I take off this blindfold, would I lose it?" Argam asked out of curiosity, fumbling for his mug.

"Mos' definitely, mon."

"Oh, good." Their conversation ended at that. Argam had suggested they start looking for work, but Xan had suggested they start looking for a drink and some shade. As always, Xan's argument won out.

"Hey boys, you gonna start a tab, or what?" The innkeeper screeched. Argam began humming to himself.

"Nah. We jus' be stoppin' by, mon," Xan said.

"Stay any longer, and I'll be charging you by the minute!" The innkeeper growled, wiping down the same wooden mug he had been wiping down ten minutes earlier when they had first entered.

"Give us a break, mon." Argam's whistling was now beginning to drown out the conversation.

A moment of silence passed. Then, "Alright, time's up. Either start paying or get out."

"What? We been here ten minutes, if dat!"

"Time is money, friend." The goblin waddled closer, now halfway across the room. "You're wasting an awful lot of time."

"Whose time?"

"The customers! Other people want a seat, ya know."

Xan looked about. There wasn't a soul in the tavern. However, as if on cue, a worn looking figure stepped through the entrance and pulled back a chair across from Xan and Argam. Immediately, the innkeeper made a beeline for the newcomer, who Xan noted distastefully was a Blood Elf.

"Brightsun! My man!" The innkeeper cried smugly as soon as he was within arm's length of the shady elf. The newcomer dug through a pocket and dumped several coins into the innkeeper's hand.

"Just take these and shut up," the elf named Brightsun muttered in a gruff voice. Or, as gruff as an elf's voice could get. It still sounded like silk compared to Xan'Jin's voice.

"You're the boss," the innkeeper cackled, turning around and standing in the midst of all the tables. He was still polishing the same mug. "What's got you down today, captain?"

"I thought you Goblins spoke the universal language," Captain Brightsun growled, throwing another small handful of coins at the innkeeper.

"I'm just makin' conversation, is all. But really, what is it?"

"To hell with it..." Xan heard the elf mutter under his breath. "Another one of my ships was lost to those overzealous humans at Northwatch Hold."

"What's the damage?" The goblin asked immediately. Figures.

"A shipment of boots for Gazlowe, a couple shipments of saw blades, three boxes of shovels, four talking parrots, a shredder, and ten crates of troll porn." Xan gasped. Those bastards!

"Those bastards must be dealt with," Captain Brightsun continued. "Their paranoia has them in a frenzy. Trigger happy, reckless louts'll shoot at anything in their sights!" The elf suddenly turned around, looking Xan in the eyes. "Interested?"

Xan blinked in surprise. Suddenly the conversation had shifted from the elf and the goblin to the elf and him. "Uh..."

"Of course. Travel south along the Merchant Coast and lay siege to the Hold. Bring me the medals of their soldiers as proof. And for the love of my fleet, slay Captain Fairmount and her overzealous cannoneers!"

Xan arched an eyebrow. "You been rehearsin' dat?"

Captain Brightsun hung his head. "So you noticed too..."

"How many people you asked before us?"

"At least three groups. All of 'em dead."

Xan gulped. "Well...lemme ask my partner, here..." He was trying badly to stall for time. "You hear dat?" Xan asked, leaning over the table toward his tauren friend.

"Hear what?" Argam stopped whistling long enough to respond.

"We may got a job," Xan whispered.

"What is it?" Xan briefly described what Captain Brightsun had just told him. Argam scowled.

"I'll make it worth your while," the elf called, and Xan damned those massive ears and sharp eyes.

"Alright," Xan said, completely going against his better judgment. "We'll do it."

Captain Brightsun gave the patented Elvin Arrogant Smirk, and they shook hands. Later that night, both Xan and Captain Brightsun washed those same hands like they were infested with the plague.

End of Chapter 7

AN: Sorry this one's a bit short and a bit cliffhangerific, but the assault on Northwatch Hold is gonna be pretty long and I wanted to get the setup out of the way.

Next up: Zuridan Fargaze!