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User:Eywa
From WOWRP
| | |
|---|---|
| Guild | Second Gurubashi Empire |
| Gender | Male |
| Race | Troll |
| Class | Mage |
| Faction | Horde |
Scarred One, retired Blood Drinker of the Second Gurubashi Empire.
Contents |
Stories
The Curse
"Id is almost time. Come with me." Hen Ji'ro motioned his green-heared grandson to follow him. They started walking toward Ulatik's hut, on the far side of Shatterspear Village. The pair moved slowly, but Eywa was not really sure if it was Hen's old age that was the cause. His grandfather seemed to take his time for things, even now he made a stop to quietly observe the waters of the lake. His silence made Eywa frown, something troubled the old troll.
There was a cold wind blowing from Winterspring, which made him shiver. He had always hated the cold; however hard he tried, he would always remain a foul desert troll. Painful memories entered his mind when thinking of the desert... He lost his family there. A brother and mother murdered, and a father lost to madness. Altough he had found new family in the jungles of Stranglethorn, he still felt like he missed out on something special.
Then came the wedding of Rao and Mliaa, and he discovered a place he had searched desperately for years. A search which he had given up when he joined the Empire. And now the Empire, in a way, was the reason he found the hidden settlement. It was the place where Rao and his lovely bride decided to give their wedding after-party. Shatterspear Village.
The Shatterspear were indiginous to Kalimdor, not like the Darkspear who recently colonized parts of the continent. Pieces of the puzzle started falling into place. At first he was oblivious of the fact that the Shatterspear at the wedding party were looking kinda familiar. But when a drunk green-heared shatterspear made a joke about the strange looking trolls in his village, Eywa was shocked. The drunk troll had directed the joke to him, apparantly not aware that he was one of the visitors.
Not really sober, Eywa started an investigation. He went around asking if anyone knew a troll named Sasha. But most trolls he asked were too busy partying to listen to his question, and those who took the time to answer had just one word for him: "No." Still, even though the alcohol was wearing off, he continued questioning the shatterspear.
As always, when you look for something hard enough, you will find it in the end. An old grey heared troll named Krah'Ranik had the following to tell Eywa. "Sasha? Neva heard of her. Or wait.. perhaps you mean Sashya? Hmm... what ya say, Jory? A two feeted bull just stole some of our banana liquor?!! Dis cannot be! Where did he go?" "He ran towards the hills to the north, elder, shoutin 'Praise da vood' or sumthin." Krah'Ranik turned back to Eywa. "I'm sorry young troll, but you'll have to excuse me now."
Eywa went back to the party. He knew his feelings were right. He even telled lady Mischa about his findings. Not that she probably cared much, but he had to tell someone, and most of the Gurubashi had already left the party. This was his mother's tribe, he just knew it! Someone tapped him on the shoulder. He turned around and was looking at a middle aged she-troll with fiery orange hear. "Are you da troll who's been asking around about Sashya?" "Eh yes, dat'll be me. Ya kno sumthin about her?" She motioned Eywa to follow her, away from the dancing and singing trolls. When they were far enough to speak unhindered, the orange heared troll said: "I'm Una Ji'ro and Sashya was my aunt, even though I nevah met her. Granpa says she ran away from our village when she was still young... We thought she be dead. Now tell me, how do you kno her name? Is she alive and well? An' where?" "I'm sorry, i'm afraid I might have bad news for ya. My mother's name was Sasha.. But she be in da lands beyond the known for quite some time now." Una looked sad after hearing this news, he knew far too well how she felt. "I'm from de Sandfury tribe, far to da south from here. And my mother was from another tribe.. I nevah known her birthplace.. Perhaps untill now.." "How did ya momma look?" "I can't really remember. She.." He hesitated for a second. "..passed away while i was only four years old. But I do know dat fatha always loved talkin about her fiery hair... Jus' like yours." Suddenly Una started grinning. "Ya do kno what dis means, no? We be cousins!" She grabbed a startled Eywa and gave him a big hug. Somehow it was very unsettling for him, time had made him forget about truly meaned affection. "Ya should come wit me now, Granpa is asleep but I dun't think he'll mind if we wake 'im up." Without leaving any room for discussion, Una dragged him off towards a hut.
Eywa looked over the lake at his grandfather's hut. The blood drinker pondered. It was there that his life changed so drasticly just a month ago, when he found his family again. How foolish had he been thinking he could spend lots of time with them. The Empire was in unrest.. Plots have been made. Fools who believe they are loyal, have been coerced into believing the new truth. The only truth. Soon the climax of all this scheming will come. Eiwar loved the chaos and unrest.. He found sarcastic pleasure in the fact that his brethren gurubashi are despairing for nothing. He knew blood and intrigues were the ingrediƫnts of every succession of the throne. Call it a troll thing.
"Ya still wit me, kiddo?" Hen was already walking towards Ulatik's hut. Eywa shrugged and followed his granpa toward the witch doctor's residence. He had no clue what was waiting for him in there. But he had some ideas, as always.
---
Ulatik snarled. "What an arrogant lill brat. I wouldn't be surprised if he turns out ta be your blood, Hen."
Eywa looked from one old man to another, annoyed with the situation. There were three elders sitting on the other side of the large hut, Ulatik being one of them, his grandfather was sitting next to him in front of the elders. "Care to tell me whot I'm doin here? Else i'll be takin my leave now." He stood up and was halfway to fresh air when one of the elders finally answered. "Ya be here ta find out the truth." Eywa turned around, knowing very well what was coming next. The symbols which were painted on the floor and walls of the hut couldn't hide their meaning from the troll mage. "So ya wish proof of our bond, granpa?" "No kiddo, but the elders.." Ulatik interrupted Hen quickly. "You say you are the child of Sashya Ji'ro. Now the time has come to find out if Shatterspear blood flows through your veins. You shall take part in a old ritual that allows us, elders of the Shatterspear, to look back into the past. We shall search into your anima an' find an image of your mother while she still was alive. We, elders, shall all be part of this sacred union, we will all see and hear her. And then we will now if you truly are a Shatterspear."
Eywa felt the discomfort from both the elders and his granpa. Why are they so nervous? He was convinced that his mother was Sashya. The ritual will only confirm this. "So you mean to use magicks to dig into my memories from when i was younger den four, and project dose memories wit mah mom into the minds of the odders here. Just to look if she is the same girl who ran away from your village here, huh?" He grinned at the elders. "Well, if that'll help ya ta accept me, den go ahead." "Be aware that you'll be fully unconcious during the whole ritual. You will not be able to see the things we will see. When you awake again, we will have our judgement ready. We will then know what we'll need to know about you, Eiwar Vidja'sul."
The elders and his grandfather moved to sit in a circle around him. It was one of the two other elders, a shriveled up old she-troll, who started chanting. The tongue seemed strangely familiar to him. He didn't have long to ponder about it before his eyes fell shut by a magic-induced slumber. "All join hands now." The words from Ulatik were the last things Eywa heard before he fell into darkness.
"It has to be the boy. He demands it."
Little Eywa felt sad that his mom and dad were talking with loud voices again, so he decided to ignore them and divert his attention to the small statue of Hir'eek. The ruby eyes of the bat captivated the attention of the young troll. "You cannot do this, Sezz'ziz. By the Loa, he is your own blood!" "That's exactly why it needs to be him, Sash." Sezz'ziz hissed the words. "This isn't a bad thing, this is a blessing that will be bestowed upon him. He will be chosen to wear the Great One's mark." "And what will that do to him, have you ever wondered about that? You have gone mad, Sezz'ziz! That you even consider doing this to your own son, hurts me deeply."
"Shut up, woman. It is the will of the hives, an' so shall it be." Sezz'ziz turned his back to his wife, signalling that this conversation was over. But Sasha had no intention to stop.
"i'll tell them which god you believe in now, Sezz'ziz. I have kept my silence for far too long.. My love for you has hold me from revealing your shameful acts." She started to cry. "By the Loa, Sezz'ziz, how could you? It has gone far enough! The moment you harm our child, I swear you, I will tell Ukorz all about your new faith."
"Be careful, Sasha. I warn you."
Screams in the dark.
Eiwar slowly became aware of his surroundings. He was standing in the middle of a hut, blood covering his hands, clothes, even his hair. Not his blood. Horror entered his mind when he saw the corpses.
No. Not again.
The cursed troll kneeled next to his grandfather's lifeless body. The voices in his head were raging. Screams who seemed to tear the last pieces of his sanity away from him.
He kissed granpa on his head, whispering: "I'm sorry."
However hard he tried, he couldn't cry. The chaos inside him still partly controlled his body.
The torment of screams ended. The inside of the troll mage's head was as silent as when he had consumed a whole keg of cherry grog. He knew why the voices had decided to depart him. Yet Ran'zuula didn't speak. Eiwar spoke first then. "Why? Why did they have to die?" No answer. "Answer me you wretched spirit!" He stood above the remains of Ulatik, waving his hands angry at the air in front of him. "Answer me now!"
They heard too much.
"They were a couple of old fools! How could they pose a threat to you?"
Knowledge is far more powerful then any blade. You better learn that, if we ever wish to succeed. You have lowered yourself with this ridiculous ideas of 'family'. I am all the family you will ever need.
Eywa fell onto his knees again and buried his head in his hands. Noise from outside told him that he wouldn't be alone for long anymore. The broken troll raised himself back on his two feet and started chanting the spell. A bright flash followed and then there were no more breathing trolls left in Ulatik's hut.
Early Days: The Awakening
A large troll sits on the slope of a rock hill, somewhere in western Tanaris, looking at the restless sands of his searing homeland. His bright green hair is in stark contrast to his heavy blood-red armor.
The troll thinks about what has happened the last few weeks. The fight he had with his father before leaving 'Farrak. The incident with the flying reptiles in the green pit, that almost ended bad for him and his brother. The discovery of the great hold that strange long-eared creatures were building in the crystal desert. But above all, their unexpected meeting with... that thing. His brother called it an Anubisath. He probably just made it up, but it wasn't the first time his little brother surprised him with strange facts who happen to be true. The little brat spends too much time reading books and scrolls. He should learn how to properly kill, not devote all his free time to ancient histories of fallen empires. How is the name of a long dead emperor going to save your life, when sharp blades are being stabbed in your flesh? The troll turned his head quickly to his right, he heard a scream. This is gonna lead to trouble.. Bered looked down at the desert, searching the shifting dunes from where the scream had come. He saw nothing.. but he had a pretty good idea of what was going on.
A running figure came in sight on top of the dunes, coming in Bered's direction. Closely following him was a vicious insect. A Centipaar stinger, and by the looks of it, a large one too. "Beredjin, waya waitin' fo?!! Help meh!!!" Beredjin.. only his little brother calls him like that. It makes him sound like some kind of hero. That was probably also the reason why it always felt so distressing. The gods knew he was no hero. Not even close.
The stinger gained ground on Eywa, who had crossed half the distance to Bered. It seemed the wasp was gonna win the race. A sly grin spread over Bered's face. This was gonna be the fourth time he saved his little brother's life, this hunting trip alone.
"Ah'm comin'! Dont get stinged! Run fastah! Ah said FASTA!!" He couldn't help gloat about his brother's misfortune, the bastard had a talent for getting himself in trouble. Bered jumped down the rock hill where they had made their camp for the night, and unsheathed his blades while he ran toward his brother.
He heard the ogres three seconds too late. A blast of fire crashed hard in his side, sending him flying to the ground. The burns didn't slow him much, he was a notorious warrior, once even part of chief Ukorz his elite bodyguard; they'll have to come with something better than fire to stop this berserker.
But when he stood back on his two feet, he had to make a dangerous choice. Either attack the bug that was chasing his brother or focus his attention on the three dunemaul, two magi and a brute, who had so easily surprised the proud warrior. By sending another fireball crashing into the troll, one of the mages took away every choice Bered had in the matter. By the time he had recovered, the brute already was too close; lunging out with his spiked club.
I am a Sandfury Blood Drinker. Bered used one blade to fend of the blow, the other one he embedded deep in the ogre's throat. Rage engulfed him, made him fast and strong. The first mage was too slow for him. The furious troll leaped and landed with a blow on the ogre, his blades piercing the dunemaul. The last ogre proved to be a bit more difficult. Arcane bolts flashed around Bered, a rain of energy ripped at his flesh. He was dazed, confused for seconds. When he got a grip on himself again, he saw the mage preparing to launch a finishing blast at him.
This is not the end.. this can't be.
Hmm.. perhaps I'd better move away from here...
Eywa looked at the activity below and couldn't help feeling unsettled. The great insects were magnificent beings, but their beauty was easily surpassed by how deadly they are. Still the young troll decided to stay for a few moments longer. Insect hives had always fascinated him, ever since he was a tiny troll in 'Farrak, and played god over a couple of ant colonies. He grew up and ants were replaced by Silithid, but the excitement never left. Of course, playing god over these bugs was impossible. The Silithid Centipaar were the cause of death for a few sandfury trolls every year. Yet Eywa still felt compelled to take a closer look...
Suddenly something under him started moving, and before he could react, he was tumbling down the hill. The rock ledge on which he was leaning had failed to support his weight. When he came to a halt, the young troll looked around him in shock, but he didn't saw a bug close to him. The strange soil felt sticky under him, and nearby a huge alien tentacle was reaching to the sky. Those tentacles were everywhere, sticking out of the ground to show the world this was Silithid domain. After some moments of panic, Eywa recollected his mind and carefully stood up, looking for a way back up. He started climbing the hill but this wasn't going to be easy, with the moving sand working against him during the climb. Suddenly he froze. A sound came from behind him that he knew far too well. The buzzing of wings. Insect wings. At the same time, the voices started to whisper again.
Pain.. Flames consuming his flesh...
His chest felt like it was still on fire. Bered opened his eyes and looked around in a state of half-consciousness, searching for some point of recognition. Finally his gaze found the old campfire. The one that he made last night to scare the hyenas. His sleepy eyes turned to the skies above. The sun had almost reached the far horizon and a gentle purple light made the world seem like a dream. Perhaps he was still dreaming... Bered let himself slip back down, he was exhausted. A sigh escaped his mouth; the pain in his muscles was a heavy burden, but pain means life. His wounds had started to heal already, he would be back in top condition in no time; the fact that it hurt like hell was something he had learned to accept long ago. Zul'Farrak was close. The troll's ancestral power flowed strong in his veins, so close to the sacred city. Just a couple more minutes rest... Bered's foggy mind had almost drifted back to sleep, when some words were uttered in the dying sunlight. "Dey screamed.."
It all came back to him, not only the fight with the ogres and his brother in danger, but also everything what had happened the hours, days, even weeks before that.. No, this can't be... I should be dead.. Bered quickly sat back up again and looked down at the sands around the rock hill. He saw the two dead ogres still lying there, in a pool of blood. Not too far from them was another corpse. The smoldering remains of what appeared to be a wasp. He turned his head to his little brother, who was sitting a few yards away from him. The world spinned around him and a sharp pain filled his head, but he succeeded in asking the question. "What happened?" "Ah.. dunno.. dey... de voices.. dey.." Eywa's whole body was shivering, it looked like he was freezing. The ever-present heat of the desert proved to Bered it wasn't the cold at all that was eating at his brother. "Calm down, ya look terrible. Wat's wit de voices?"
Ever since his early childhood his little brother had been tormented by a curse; it started with voices whispering to him in an unknown tongue during his sleep, when he was 4 years old. Then came the nightmares.. After months gone by the voices still continued to enter his brother's mind. But now they didn't restrict themselves to his slumber anymore. He started hearing the whispers every waking moment.
Time passed and Eywa learned to ignore the voices in his head. He kept his secret from the trolls around him, his brother and father as well. Even amongst savage, brutal creatures as the Sandfury were, a troll hearing voices in his head wasn't a sign of good mental health.
Some years later he suddenly started speaking in strange and bizarre tongues at random times. Sezz'ziz quickly discovered his son's condition and gathered the wise men of the tribe for consultation. But no troll in 'Farrak could figure out the meaning of this phenomenon, not even Velratha or the old Overseer of Sul, who were widely considered the wisest trolls of the Sandfury tribe.
Sezz'ziz however fiercely believed that the voices were from the Loa, and the gods have favored his flesh and blood. The mighty shadowpriest considered his youngest son as his true heir, and he put considerate amounts of effort into training Eywa to become a priest of the great Blood God, like Sezz'ziz himself.
Bered was second in row to receive love. He was nothing more then a failed warrior to his father, ever since the day he was kicked out of the chief's guard. In the beginning it had hurt Bere deeply inside to see his father turn his head away everytime he walked by. In time, he accepted the fact that he was unwanted at home, and started staying away longer and longer on his trips to Un'Goro. Hunting ravasaurs seemed the perfect escape from his sorrows at 'Farrak.
And then the day came that his little brother wanted to come along. The fact that Bered had said yes, enraged their father beyond belief. But still he didn't forbid his youngest son to go. Sezz'ziz knew his sons well enough to foresee that Eywa would be too stubborn to obey him and most likely slip out the city to join his brother. So the old shadowpriest didn't act, but he hated Bered for it never the less.
"When de wasp got me.. dey.. started screaming.. dey.. dey didn't stop till... id felt like dey exploded in my head..." Bered poked his brother against the shoulder, a small gesture of friendship and support. "Ey come on, mon, get ah grip on yaself. Wat happened to de stinger? An' de ogre?" Eywa looked up at him, and his eyes seemed filled with intense fear. "Dunno, Bere.. Just can't remember id right... dey... dey screamed.. and fiyah.. fiyah and death followed.. The ogre... the ogre ran.."
"He ran away? Dat can't be... Dunemaul don't run, an' especially not when dey have de advantage." Bered scratched his head, confused by what his brother said had happened. There was something amiss. Ogres just don't run that easily... And the dead wasp was another thing... He looked at his brother with frowned eyebrows.
"Ah don't know, Bere..." His brother's head dropped back down again, facing the ground. Again a shiver ran through his body. Bered decided to do something about Eywa's condition. He seemed to be even more depressed as that time he almost got eaten by a dragon.
"Hmm... Well id seems I owe ya ah thanks... fo savin mah life." Suddenly Eywa's head jumped back up again, looking confused at his older brother. Then finally a sly smirk slowly started to spread over his face. "Heh... yeah ah did do dat, eh?"
Bered stood up and stretched his muscles, everything seemed to have healed well. Confident that his strenght had returned to him, he turned back to his brother. "Don't led id get ta ya head, ya may be a danger to wasps but ya still be long away of gettin even wit me. Now start packin' up ya things, we move in ah short time. Let's head home."
Sources
[http://www.vashna.proboards51.com
Categories: Characters | Male | Troll | Mage | Horde | Second Gurubashi Empire


