1: Wrecked
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The Barrens. A savannah sheltered by two sets of mountain ranges to the north and west, and the sea to the east. Dry most of the year and soaking wet the next, it is a difficult place to live if you choose to stay.
A Tauren, muscled, clad in leather armor sat in his home. Unlike the classic nomadic tents made of freshly skinned animals, stretched out and woven together, this home was constructed of logs and wood. More tempered to the Barren’s harsh weather extremes during the seasonal change, and also better to protect his possessions. Books stuffed in shelves barely able to hold the burden, ceramic pots that hold various herbs and plants near the open window, letting a cool breeze wash through the structure. A single candle was lit allowing the owner to read through his scriptures.
He was tired, very tired. For years he had been on the edge of something incredible. A discovery that had drawn him away from the paths of both Shamanism and Druidism that his people revered, a way for magic to be harnessed without corrupting the world. Something stirred within him, and he was very close to making that discovery. Just as safe as channeling the Spirits of the elements and of nature, the discovery would help everyone. He searched through records of magi, theories and hypothesis created by the majority of the human ruling class. The records regarding magic use and corruption were not few in abundance, and the taint could be felt if one knew where to look.
This Tauren, Agrogon, had spent much of his life studying the Druidic ways. He still retained knowledge from his teachings and applied them to many situations. The preservation of nature was one thing, but the preservation of Azeroth’s magick was another deal all-together. He had seen much of the world, and spoken with the Night Elves in Moonglade, been one of the first members of the Cenarion Circle’s Tauren representatives. He also had a family.
Had being a key term.
The Burning Legion’s assault on Azeroth took its toll in many ways, and one way that affected Agrogon greatly was the death of his mate. His mate had been strong of mind and body, and reared three children of which he was proud. As time when on, his children had eventually made him a grandfather, but he hadn’t felt his age. With the Burning Legion’s attack, he had lost his mate and left the service of the Tauren Chieftain to find his own path. During the assualt, his Druid senses had been enraged by the demonic power of the demons, causing a pain from deep within his very soul that rushed forth in the form of Rage and bloodshed. That Blood-rage was made empty and meaningless when his mate was slain.
He traveled alone, for many seasons, following the web and flow of nature and the effect that the war between demon and mortal was having. Through his travels, he had seen the magick of Azeroth through the Emerald Dream, and followed its patterns while awake. He found the magick circling various runic symbols. These were not engraved into the rock by force, but however the magic collected there. Like a pool of water the magick flowed gently into the runes, collecting as naturally as a spring rain. Then, Agrogon realized there was much to be done, and only one lifetime to accomplish it in.
Years later, there he was, sitting in his structured home. Reading scripture and trying to understand how the magick of Azeroth flowed through the runes, and how to use them as an alternative to the arcane or demonic magick that other races used.
He sat, rubbing his furry brow with one hand and reaching for a flask with the other. His massive hands wrapped around the ceramic glass and he drank to keep himself awake.
The wind started to blow harder now, and Agrogon could smell the sea. The wind was blowing westward this evening and the salty air floated through his home. Something else was on the wind and he inhaled with a snort, the ring through his nose sliding up as his nostrils wrinkled.
Smoke? He sniffed again, concentrating on the scent. Yes. It was smoke. Agrogon immediately looked at the candle on his table, and then at the other unlit ones scattered around his home. None of them were on, or blown out, so his house wasn’t on fire. He was only slightly relieved, but a fire on the savannah was never a good thing. Dry for most of the year left much of it brittle and flammable. Standing up he blew the candle out and grabbed his staff as he seemed to fly out the door as quickly as the wind.
Agrogon ran and sniffed the air again. From the east, the smoke was comeing from the east. Taking off yet again, nature magick flowed around him as he shifted forms. His massive muscular Tauren physique shifted and contorting, reducing his mass into a lithe and graceful manticore. Faster now, he sprinted, feline senses informing him of where the smoke was coming from. Minutes went by, and he could feel the grass of the plains become sparser and the scent of the sea stronger with every bound.
He skidded to a stop, sliding along the quartz grains that made up the eastern seaboard. Looking out at the sea he saw a single ship lit aflame. The winds had blown the scent inland, embers fading out before reaching landfall. There was no danger this time for the Barrens or his home. He stayed there watching until something else caught his attention.
Someone was fleeing the burning ship, swimming weakly towards the shore. They were halfway from shore and each stroke had less energy than the one before it. Agrogon dashed out into the surf before jumping, magick swirling around his body and changing it into something that was a faster swimmer.
He hit the water as a giant sea lion, with horns protruding from his skull. Swimming through the water was easy as if slicing through a Slime. His senses had gotten better as he changed forms for the situation, allowing him to locate the struggling individual through their thrashing at the water’s surface. Gently he came up underneath them before rushing them towards the shore. Thank the spirits they were light and he could get them away as soon as possible.
As he hit the shallows, before his form would have to start scratching at the sand, he changed forms again, this time to a massive bear. With his new passengers on his back he drudged through the muck and the dirt before gently depositing them on the beach, away from the surf.
Shaking his salt-drenched body, sea water flying in every direction, he shifted back to his Tauren form and looked at who he had saved.
It was a kaldorei female, huddled over something wrapped in cloth. Her breathing was ragged and seemed to be in pain. Agrogon knelt down next to her, his hooves sinking slightly into the sand. Gently he moved her onto her back, and she still held the bundle close to her chest.
“Night Elf,” he said, doing his best to remember the language he had tried hard to learn. “Speak your name.”
Her eyes opened slightly as she heard another voice. She seemed to stare at nothing, each breath becoming a struggle. Slowly she turned her head towards him, her eyes unfocused and staring through him.
“Kasia... of the...” she struggled to say.
“Hush. You are safe now.” he said, while moving her so that she could be more comfortable. As he did, he felt warmth from her waist. He raised his hand up to his eyes and could now smell the copper-scented blood, and he knew she was no longer for this world.
“Cerine...” she said weakly.
Agrogon looked at her in confusion.
“Her... name is.... Cerine...” the Night Elf tried to say something else, a sur-name for someone he might have to find and inform them of this tragedy. However she was badly injured and her grip on life was slipping away.
Kasia closed her eyes for one last time on that Barren shore.
Agrogon lowered his head and honored her death, and the death of the crew of the ship as the sounds of it breaking apart echoed across the sand. His silent prayer to the spirits of nature was interrupted by the sound of a babe crying.
Surprised he stepped back, before leaning over Kasia’s body, and the object she had clutched to her chest. It was starting to move! Gently, Agrogon removed a layer of wet cloth that surrounded the infant and was surprised to find a small kaldorei infant squirming around and crying.
Carefully, Agrogon picked up the infant and took some of his own cloth to dry and clean it. He then used more cloth to wrap the infant up, and protect it from the elements. The Tauren looked at Kasia and kneeled once again. Carefully he placed her arms over her chest. He would have to go back and get the correct tools for a proper burial, but leaving her for the predators to fight over wasn’t proper either.
While comforting the infant and treating Kasia’s body, Agrogon noticed something around her neck. Carefully he extracted the object and held it. It was a pendant attached to a golden necklace, with various engravings similar to the Night Elven writings and scriptures. He took the pendant and rested it with the infant, within the folds of the cloth wrapping.
Agrogon stood there, deep in thought. Wondering how to finish this task he had set before him. The mother was dead, the infant was crying, and he himself stood on the beach with them both. It had been years since he had reared any children, and he gently rocked the infant as he thought to himself how to address this problem.
His attention was grabbed by something moving from the water. Quickly he shifted forms, placing the cloth holding the infant in his mouth and dove into the grasslands nearest the beach, watching silently from the grass.
Slithering from the waters came two Naga, their fins and scales reflecting the burning ship behind them. One massive male slithered forward from the sea, his trident glowing with a dark purple aura. He let out a hiss to his subordinates and they searched the beach where they had slithered out.
“Sir,” one hissed. “I’ve found her.”
The large male let a snarl escape his lips before he slithered over to the dead Night Elf. He looked her over carefully, before grabbing her by the hair and lifting the body up three feet. He sniffed some more before letting it drop with a thud onto the sand.
“Where is the infant?” he snarled.
“Gone,” said the other. “It’s wrappings were torn away from the female,” he indicated the tracks that seemed shuffled around the corpse. “Some animal, wanted a free meal.”
“Perhaps.” the large male replied. “Our Queen wants that infant dead. And I will not tolerate apathy here. Search the shore! If you fail to bring me that infant back dead then I will have your heads on pikes outside my chambers!”
The two Naga darted off in separate directions along the coast, leaving long trenches where their tails slithered along the ground. The large one stood there, watching the ship sink into the sea. They had tracked that boat for weeks, following its path around Kalimdor. He had come too far to allow failure.
The Naga caught a rustle in the bushes, and he turned his reptilian head towards the sound. He hissed, and poised his trident ready. Silently he slithered towards the grass towards the edge of the sand. Listening to the sounds emanating from the grass. He would kill something, be it the infant or whatever got in his way. Pushing back blades of grass, his hiss was caught in his throat.
There it was! The infant, squirming around in a small clearing just for it. Oh such a good day. To kill and return to his Queen, successful. He raised the trident higher, along with his body into the air, prepared to strike.
Agrogon watched, his eyes narrowed and whiskers brushing against the grass around him. He saw the Naga, rise up, and prepare to strike, bloodlust in the reptile’s eyes.
Not quite in his prime, Agrogon had the element of surprise.
And he wasn’t going to waste it.
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Next:
Bloodshed
Warcraft: Rise of a Runemaster (M for some scenes)
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