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Stranglethorn Fever	By : Machina Category: +S through Z > World of Warcraft Views: 7796 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own World of Warcraft, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
- 3
The Troll stirred the pot in lazy
circles, watching the fire closely as he added more wood to the crackling embers. Shadows
flickered across his rough, greenish blue skin, toughened by a long life
in the harsh seasons of Stranglethorn. While his
simple leather attire was frayed by the elements, it still had the appearance
of being kept in a clean, decent condition.
His grey-white hair was a mass of
unkempt locks that spilled over deep-set emerald eyes, tied into ragged
ponytail where the bristly strands stuck out in a frozen explosion. Raising his
heavy frowning brows in amusement, the Troll looked down at the Night Elf with
a small smile curved around thick, dangerous tusks.� Colored a dull ivory they curled
up and outwards, forcing a permanent grin - or perhaps grimace - on the angular features.
Joachim lay quietly, numb to his
current situation. He had given up trying to squirm out of the expertly woven
bindings, and even his Shapeshifting abilities were
weakened by the strange Voodoo performed by the Troll. It had been a simple
ritual with a childish doll in the shape of a Night Elf, and a single strand of
his long white hair. Yet with such a crude trinket he was unable to focus onto even the most rudimentary of spells.
�Don�cha rememba me, Night Elf?
Osoran be rememberin� ya.�
�� Long,
willowy ears flickered once at the thickly accented voice, the blurry state of
mind preventing Joachim from discerning whether it was from a dream or
reality.� It was deep and gravelly with a
harsh undertone � yet it held no malice, holding a soft edge to the thick,
rolling accent. It was almost a murmur, a part of the exotic noise that rustled
throughout the darkening jungle.
�� While he did not think about it at
the time, he did find it very strange that he was able to understand the Troll.
�� Osoran carefully sipped from the ladle before he reached
around to add some more unknown ingredients to the stew.� Joachim blinked and squinted through sticky,
hazed eyes, dumbly watching the large three-fingered hands.� The thick black nails reminded him vaguely of
hooves, leaving eerie streaks of nothing
in the fascinating trails of shifting colors.
The Kaldorei
wrinkled his nose at the thick, oily
aroma of stew.� He had heard stories about the Trollish customs of sacrifice and cannibalism, and being
trussed like a pig didn�t help the situation. Most likely he was going to be an experimental ingredient, one only the barbaric Horde could appreciate.
�� Bein� quiet won�t help ya feel
any betta, mon.
Why don�cha try some of my cookin? It�ll make ya feel real
good.�
�� Too tired
to fight back, Joachim slumped as the Troll sat him up against a gnarled
tree.� Even when the binds were loosened he just couldn�t be bothered to move.�
He didn�t even care if he dropped dead right then and there if it meant
he would be able to sleep. Forming words was an effort, words suddenly an
exhausting ordeal to slur out.
�� Please� just kill me and get it over
with��
�� Joachim rolled his tongue thick and heavy with
drowsiness, uncertain if he had spoken.� Osoran smirked at the
low gargle besides him as he poured some stew into a simple wooden bowl.
�An� turn ya
into them pretty wisps that float awei? Nah mon, me be thinkin�
you be worth a little more alive than dead.�
�� Everything was slow and irritating; a massive
apathy welling up within the Elf as glazed eyes dully focused on and
illuminated the strange red flower by his head.�
The soup seemed reluctant to part with the ladle, dripping into the bowl with a honey-like
consistency, each drop splattering into a thousand more earthy marbles.
With heavy eyes Joachim
watched each drop fall, while his
lost mind lazily recalled everything that had led up to this unfortunate
situation.

+

�� It�s time to wake up.�
�� A sharp cuff across sensitive ears
jolted the young Druid into an upright position as his ears jiggled from the
blow, blearily trying to force his eyes open as wide as possible.
�� It�s the last day of your studies
and still you fail to take it seriously!�
What addles your mind so that you are always distracted?�
�� Joachim hunched his shoulders,
trying to avoid the angry glare of his elder brother.� Arrion let out an
exasperated sigh and shook his head, the glow of his eyes flickering in the
directions he rolled them.
�� -IF- Mother and Father were here and
thankfully they are not, they�d be horrified at your lack of dedication.� Get dressed properly and retrieve your things
before the others leave without you � as always!�
�� Ears drooping, the younger Elf went
to do as he was told.� His parents had
given him their blessings before they had left for Stormwind,
always busy discussing things with the Lords and Ladies of the human world.� While he was well taken care of, Arrion was the one who had raised him with a strict
discipline that was more than enough substitute for an entire family.
�� Joachim had always envied his elder
brother for the strength and courage he had shown in battle, although he feared thatArrion would eventually fail to
return.� Often dressed in the heavy garb
of a Warrior even at home, the heavily built Kaldorei
commanded respect by his sheer charismatic presence and well-muscled
stature.� While Joachim favored a more
playful hairstyle by separating it into thick braids with a short topknot, Arrion slashed it short with harsh movements to accentuate
equally harsh features that were prematurely aged by the hardship of battle.
�� A low growl startled the young Druid
out of his intense study of the Warrior�s violent hairstyle (to him it seemed
as though his brother were so infatuated with war that he took it upon himself
to go to battle with his own hair), as he closed his book with a shy glance
upwards.
�� I promise I will do well, Brother.� I will be as great as you someday, I swear
it!�
�� The Warrior eyed his younger brother
incredulously; it was hard to take such a small, quavering voice seriously,
although he merely shook his head with an exasperated sigh.
�� Let us pretend that this is the
first of your great adventures.� Since
your first destination is convenient, I want you to deliver these skins to the
Blacksmith there.� Keep the money for
yourself as you will need it to supply yourself. �You must be strong � pay attention to your
surroundings.� Be aware� ATTENTIVE!!�
�� Joachim bolted upright as two heavy
hands slammed onto his desk, abruptly drawing his attention away from two small
wisps that were in the beginnings of what seemed to be an argument of sorts.
�� Rubbing his eyes, Arrion turned away with a heavy sigh as he began to walk
towards his room.
�� May Elune
watch over you lest you impale yourself on a stone.�
�� The young Druid merely drummed his
fingers along the worn desk, wishing his brother was better at saying goodbye.

+

He had waited his entire life for
this.
�� During the
Third War, Joachim was yet too young to fully contemplate the great tragedies the world had endured.� He did not understand the sorrow of his
peers, did not understand the loss of immortality nor how close all existence came to being consumed by the Burning Legion.� All he knew was his innate talents with Druidic magic and a strong lust for
battle.� While the former was much
encouraged, the latter was observed warily by his teachers who were old enough
to fear the damage of corruption.
�� Now after
what seemed like countless years of study and servitude, he was finally ready
to take his part in the eternal War between Alliance and the Horde.� What tentative truce there was had dissipated
once their common enemy had been pushed back, and each force struggled
viciously for the right to exist.�
Joachim was as eager for the battlefields as much as any other youth, a
genuine loyalty to serving the Balance veiling a dark, burning desire for the
chance to prove his worth.
�� He was part
of a small group that was to travel from Teldrassil
to Auberdine in Darkshore, before
splitting up to deliver individual satchels.�
The young Elves boasted of their skills, spinning elaborate tales of
their limited adventures with such conviction one could almost believe them.� It was a typical grouping, meant to keep the
inexperienced youths safe for most of the excursion into the world before they
split up for their respective destinations.
�� Ashenvale was a dangerous place, a territory violently
fought for between the Night Elves and the Orcs.� Not only was it full of mysterious ruins, the
beaches riddled with the hateful Naga, crazed Furbolgs
slaughtering innocents and dangerous animals roaming the lush forest, but the
war had entered even this lonely and ancient place. The Orcs
needed lumber, new homes and new land � their enemies did not appreciate this
intrusion and were willing to do everything to push them back.� It was naturally, not a friendly place for a
young and inexperienced adventurer to be.
�� The hippogryphs landed on the outskirts of Auberdine,
a small quiet town near the center of the great forest.� The land was surreal in this ethereal land, shafts of light glimmering in luminescent shafts between the
thick, rustling leaves of various shades of cool greens and warm reds and
purples.� Sparkling wisps and particles
flitted lazily through the light, creating the illusion of an ever-shifting
forest.
�� Joachim was
one of the last to dismount, awkwardly shifting his package of soft leathers into
a comfortable position.� A small huff
from the tired hippogryph startled the young Druid, who promptly bumped into a rather
short Elf he recognized immediately by the bright red hair, unusual in their
people.
�� Moonfall
normally disguised the plain white of his hair with the bright crimson juices
of crushed berries and powders, the concoction unfortunately making it stand on
end.� Precocious and over-eager, he was nonetheless an excellent student despite
being a far cry from the typical dour silence of other Rogues with his bright
personality.
�� Whatcha
got in there, J-Joa?�
I�ve got to deliver this bundle of akiris
reeds t-to someone in Booty
Bay � I heard they got
all kinds of s-sea giants and strange beasts in there!� Oh man, and �p-pirates-!�� The frazzled Rogue�s eyes bulged slightly as
his grin widened into something rather macabre, causing Joachim to nervously
step back.
�� Oh, that�s nice� please stay safe,
I hear that travelers often get some kind of strange flu � and from the rumors,
the antidote isn�t exactly pleasant.��
Joachim spoke quietly, shyly plucking at his satchel.
�� A moment of awkward silence passed,
before Moonfall placed a hand on the Druid�s shoulder
with a hopeful look.
�So� w-where are ya goin�?� You should write about it s-so I can read
about your big adventures!� You want me
to write t-too?�
�� The young Druid opened his mouth in
an attempt to respond, quickly shutting it when a Sentinel and her escorts
astride on massive Nightsabers approached the group.
�� Hail, young adventurers.� We have been notified of your arrival and
have prepared for your immediate departures.�
Be wary of the land, and of the enemy � you are now far from the
protective boughs of our great World Tree, and your tender skills and wits
shall be tested.� May the Goddess watch all
of you.�
�� The Elves shifted restlessly and
murmured excitedly amongst themselves, except for one � Joachim, who was
somewhat small for his age had hunched over slightly and avoided the prideful
glare of the Sentinel as she spoke.� He
suddenly felt rather homesick, and it caused him great discomfort to think he�d
be soaring over unknown lands on some flying chicken he had to entrust his life
to.
�� Hastily each new adventurer waved
their farewells, each one secretly fantasizing about the glories that awaited
them as passion welled in their hearts.� Moonfall was the only one who gave the Druid any attention,
wrapping him in a rough hug and laugh.
�� Watch yourself my m-main man!� Stay s-strong!�
�� Moonfall
gave a confident toss of his red hair before leaping onto an ornery bird and
kicking it into gear.� Again, Joachim was
the last to leave � he had thought that it would make him less conspicuous but
instead he was being watched with a multitude of hopeful, glowing eyes.� Ears drooping he looked back at the proud
group of Sentinels as well as the other adults who had gathered to watch the
younglings off.
Quickly
the Druid stirred his hippogryph into flight, ducking
his head to avoid their expectant gazes.

+

�� There were
many times Joachim wished he could have halted the hippogryph�s
flight, partially out of nausea and partially to explore the beautiful world
that flashed underneath.� From the dense
forests of Ashenvale he flew to Theramore,
enjoying a bit of freshly grilled fish as he waited for the boat.� Shyly he observed the many aged and hardened
warriors that casually ignored the young Druid, quietly ducking behind them
when the sea-worn ship finally arrived.
�� Thankfully
the Druid wasn�t one prone to seasickness, having a natural love for fishing
and exploring the mysterious depths in
the shape of a fat little seal.�
Leaning over the edge he squinted over the horizon across the sun-speckled waters,
breathing in the salty-sweet ocean air and observing the thick clouds that
tangled across soft blue
skies.� It was a beautiful day, and the
young adventurer�s shipmates relaxed underneath the warm sun and cool breeze as
the ship lazily sloshed towards the other continent.
�� Joachim was
more than a little anxious � this was the first time he had ever left Teldrassil, and going to a whole new world before even
being allowed to explore his own continent was a rather intimidating
process.� Still, his task was only to
deliver the satchel before returning home.�
The Druid absently reached into his pocket and nervously touched the
comforting weight of his Hearthstone, fingertips yet smooth with innocence
gingerly pressing into the carvings.
�� First time
on a ship, laddie?�
�� The rough
voice jolted Joachim out of his reverie, and wide eyes blinked up at the
black-bearded Hunter.� Giving a throaty
laugh at the nervous little jump the Dwarf slapped the young Elf on the back, causing him to fumble with the
Hearthstone before he managed to stuff it back in his satchel.
�� Ah come �on
lad, don�t let ol� Steelie
get to ya.� I
kin tell yer a green one; mind tellin�
me where ya headed?�
�� Smiling
slightly Joachim reached around to share his bundle, eager to share his little
quest.� �It�s only a small collection of
leathers; I�ll be taking them to Southshore.�
�� Stroking
his beard, �Steelie� grumped softly and mused.� �Mm, ye best bein�
careful there... tis too close tae Horde for me
comfort.� Hillsbrad
be right too near the Undead
City, ya
know.� Fulla
them creepy crawlies, broken jaws and rottin� flesh �
blech!� Tis right unnatural I tells ya!�
�� O-oh?�� His brow
knitting slightly Joachim lowered his eyes, feeling a soft wrenching in his
gut.� He knew his task would be simple,
but anything could happen�
�� Another
raucous laugh escaped the Dwarf, who gave another mighty slap to Joachim�s back, leaving a hot sting.� �Don�t worry so much, laddie!
Ye�ll be safe, coz Southshore has some of the best guards in tha land.� Ah, speakin� a land, here we are now.� Ye take care of yerself
now, ya hear?�
�� Finally the
ship lurched as it began to slow, turning as it expertly slid into the dock of Menethil
Harbor as it had done
countless times.� Joachim stood aside
respectfully as his peers filed out of the ship, an occasional nod or curious
glance the only acknowledgement he received except from Steelie,
who gave him an encouraging wink and wave without a backwards glance.
What must it feel like, the young
Elf thought to himself, to have such direction, such drive and purpose?� He had never felt so alone or small in his life,
although this moment of vague self-pity did not last long.� He felt ever more determined to make his
existence grand, to stand as proud as any other Hero.
�� Self-consciously
pulling a few coins from his humble savings, Joachim warily glanced up at the
golden, white-winged gryphons that proudly nested by
the Windriders.�
While the hippogryphs had a quiet kind of
lethality, the gryphons seemed outright dangerous
with their massive beaks, huge talons and muscled bodies.� One of them blinked their golden eyes and
cocked its head in the Druid�s direction, who unconsciously returned the curious look.
Soon he was in flight again,
passing over the vast hills of Arathi, camps of thieves and even catching sight of a massive
glowing arcane bubble he did not
know was the mysterious Dalaran.

+

�These aren�t enough.�
Joachim blinked, as the gruff man bluntly tossed the leathers into a corner
and leaned forward in his chair with his fingers interlocked, glaring up at the
Druid.
�But-�
�But nothing.� Listen
kid, business is business and if your boss screwed up the deal, you�re gonna have to cover, you get what I�m saying?�
�I� uhm?�
Giving an exasperated sigh, the man leaned back and lit a pipe.� Joachim watched in defeated silence, watching
the embers glow as the merchant puffed.
�Listen, I know you�re fresh outta the tree and
all, and that you�re into nature and all that, but here.�� Tossing a small sword and skinning knife onto
the table the man motioned to them as if they were the most obvious things in
the world.� �For the balance or whatever
rocks your boat.�
�But I-!�
�LISTEN kid, you wanna do this the hard way or
the easy way?� You can pay for the
missing leather outta your own pocket or you can do
it the harder way and get the skins for free!�
With a soft groan Joachim�s shoulders slumped � he wasn�t afraid of killing
animals, but... he really didn�t want to do any work, especially when it wasn�t
his fault that they were short on supplies.�
Slipping the simple sword into his belt he pocketed the skinning knife,
heading out for the nearby woods.
It was a bit of an ordeal, and ashamedly Joachim had to kill more than he
really needed as several skins lay ruined.�
It was sloppy and amateur, although by the end of the day he had managed
to harvest a few hides to be proud of despite looking like a hack surgeon.
Having finally gathered enough, Joachim shouldered his belongings and weaved through the small patch of trees where he had his last kill with a soft hum, casually ambling towards town.
It wasn�t long before he stopped
cold, his heart dropping into his stomach as he gripped the leather to his chest.
�� In all respects, it was a wondrous
sight.� Sweat and iron, blood and magic
saturated the air as low tremors caused the grass to tremble and stir.� The birds grew silent, and a strange ringing
noise began to tickle Joachim�s ear.
�� In all of its awful glory, was the Horde.
�� They
weren�t many, but even one would be
intimidating on their own.� Each
one looked far more dangerous than the last.
Leading the front were the gargantuan and virtuous Taurens leaning on huge
weapons, long beards thickly braided with
war paint dabbed across their broad faces.
Struggling for the right to survive and persecuted for years were the
powerfully built Orcs in thick armor riddled with spikes and chains, several donned in the garb of their re-found
Shamanism.
�Lanky
Trolls lurked in the shadows, the Darkspear Tribe
having been decimated and displaced by various outside forces.
Finally from the safety of the rear sat the universally feared and
despised Forsaken, exposed bone and viscera twisting as they wove
their secret spells and enchantments.
�� The largest
Tauren, clad in gleaming dirty-gold and white armor
with heavy ridges turned his head sharply in Joachim�s direction, the thick
helmet concealing most of the broad face except for the burning brown-red
eyes.� Joachim did nothing � he was sure
he would die then and there, but the Tauren simply
stroked its bearded chin before giving a slow wave.� The others ignored his existence completely,
staring in the direction of the town.
�� The Night
Elf spared not a moment as he bolted straight for Hillsbrad,
a red panic exploding in the back of his mind.

+

�� The Horde�
the Horde have arrived!!�
�� Joachim
stumbled once, almost sliding along the
ground before a guard
caught him by the arms and gave a firm shake that rattled Joachim�s brain,
glancing over the younger but taller Elf�s shoulder to look for the intruders.

�� What are you talking about?� Where
are they, man!? Where are they coming from?�
�� I saw them
in the hills! I saw them as I was harvesting leather - there must be twenty...
thirty even!�
�� The guard
shoved Joachim in a panicked haste, and the Elf fell onto his side with a
grunt.�
Suddenly, he was afraid and
coldness gripped his gut.� He had
waited so long for battle but he had dreamt only of glory, of the welling heat
in his stomach with each foe he struck down and the pride in his heart of fighting for the Alliance.� All of his daydreams were that of Heroes and
victory, but this crushed everything.�
Now, he only wanted to go home.
He had seen the enemy for the first
time in his young life, and finally knew fear.
�� Horns were
sounded, alarms and bells clanging in desperation and to alert the enemy that
the town was aware.� Gryphons
and couriers soared in all directions to summon aid, while those closer to the
town gathered near the City Hall where the Mayor and civilians were
secured.� The guards stood in a
semi-circle around Hillsbrad, while the proud
defenders and nameless Heroes waited tensely for battle.
�� Joachim
whirled around in confusion, feeling utterly helpless before an older veteran
of the Alliance
with a scar-twisted upper lip silently shoved him to the front of the
line.� When the younger Druid tried to
run back into town with eyes
flaring white-gold in panic, the
Night Elf Warrior easily pushed him back with a powerfully muscled arm and
firmly held him in place with a nasty snarl.
�� This�ll be
a good way ta cut yer
teeth, don�t you think?� Not ta mention if yer cryin� wolf, you�ll be oh so conveniently standin� in the way of my sword that mighta what �ax-identally�
lop yer ears off.�
�� Shaking his
head furiously, Joachim squeezed his eyes shut and stood his ground.� He didn�t want to die, not so early in his
life.� Gripping his flimsy staff tightly
he dug the heel of his boots into the ground, wishing he could just meld into
the shadows forever.
�� The entire
town tensed, beasts crouching low by their masters and mounts pawing clods of
grass and dirt in anticipation.
��
An hour passed.� A few of the heavier warriors rested on their
weapons, and Rogues shifted their cramped positions in the shadow.
�� .�
Accusing looks began to graze over the Druid, who bit on his thumb and
found no way to avoid the nasty glares.
�� Confound it, Elf!! Where are they!?�
�� Joachim
nearly leapt out of his armor when the red-faced Captain screamed into his
hypersensitive ears, causing him to double over in pain as the words bounced
around in his head.
�� The rest of
the town gave the Druid annoyed glances and haughty sniffs, muttering things
about how one shouldn�t tell such terrible lies and the state of young folk
these days.� Guards began to disperse,
children peeked out the windows of the sealed City Hall and the Captain
raged.� Joachim could do nothing to
persuade them back.
�� I swear to
Elune that I saw them!! They were just over the
hills!�
Another smack to his head knocked
him onto his rear, and the Warrior rolled the hopeless Elf around with the
steel heel of his boots.
�� Don�t ya dare swear on sweet Elune�s
name, ya little prat.�
�� The next
sounding of the horn nearly cost Joachim his life, as the startled Warrior
pressed down hard on his ribs and practically ran him over to rush into battle.
�� To arms, to arms!! Defend Hillbsrad
with your lives!!!�
�� The Horde
had been waiting for this moment.� Their
leader was wise, and they had expected their ruse to pull through.� Who would believe a young, obviously
inexperienced adventurer, especially when the attack did not come? Now in this
moment of chaos they attacked from all sides, the defenders of the town scattered
and vulnerable.

+

�� Chaos raged, and Joachim was shoved
out of the way, stepped on, or simply ignored.�
Even in the confusion the warriors did not seek him as a target, as even
the most depraved Forsaken had some sense of honor despite the cackling delight
as they violently shoved him aside like schoolyard bullies.� Several times did a battle-worn weapon pause
lethally close; the edge only a hair�s breadth away before swinging towards a
worthier opponent.� He felt pathetic,
helpless, but he was only getting in the way - he swore vengeance, a hasty and
young decision as he scampered into the nearby woods.
Lungs close to bursting, Joachim slumped onto the grass and glanced back at
Southshore where the small war raged.� He squeezed his eyes so tightly shut
that the golden glow disappeared completely, not even a sliver of light dancing
across the high cheekbones.� Never had he thought his end was near
so many times in such a short period of time, and he cursed himself for
being so timidly accepting of his
fate whenever he had just stood there with his eyes closed, just waiting for an
axe to cleave his head in two.
�� Hey mon� you be doin� alright?�
�� Joachim
blinked, too stunned to move as the grip
on his staff tightened. �The voice was hesitant and heavily accented,
almost difficult to understand in its exotic pronunciations.� It took him a few moments to realize that the
words were Common, and he glanced around with a faint hope that it was perhaps
a member of the Alliance
from a foreign area.
�� Hey, I be talkin� to ya!�
�� The
luminescent jewel on the end of the staff blazed a white-green trail as it
swung through the air, ending with a thick �CLUNK� as it slammed into the tree
behind Joachim.� He stared at the empty
space for a few seconds as a drop of sweat rolled off his nose, pressing his
back up against the rough bark while nervously glancing around as he did his
best to meld with the shadows.
�� You be pretty
new at dis.�
�� It was a statement, not a question - a blow to Joachim�s young arrogance in the surety of his inexperience. Whoever it was they were keenly observant, although truthfully it did not take much observational skill to conclude the young Elf�s inexperience.
�� Again, that
maddening voice murmured in that sympathetic, taunting tone from somewhere in
the confounding dappling of light and shadow.
�� How �bout
I take you awei from dis
place? It too dangerous for ya, you might get�cha lil nose bruised.� My time be up anywei.�
�� Show
yourself!�� A tiny quaver betrayed the
bravado.� �I�ll have you know, I�ve
survived many battles!�� This was only
partially true � Joachim had indeed lived through many scraps, mainly with the
less cunning beasts of the land.� He had
never fought against another sentient being, much less a seasoned warrior.� Secretly, he was only hoping that someone of
the Alliance
would come this way�
�� A low
chuckle purred from above, and Joachim scurried away from the rustling leaves
and into the open in a mild panic.� This
fatal maneuver alerted the stranger further to the glaringly obvious.� The small war still raged on in the distance
at Southshore,
a dull hum of weapons and war cries.� The
birds and beasts all had fled.� It was almost peaceful in this lonely patch
of lush green land and clear blue sky between the Druid and his mysterious
assailant, and the absurd illusion of
serenity made Joachim laugh nervously as he backpedaled, accidentally
crushing a peacebloom.
�� Hey mon� don�cha
be hurtin� dem flowers,
they dun nothin� to ya.�
�� One of
Joachim�s ears quirked at an odd angle
from the peculiar comment.� For some
reason, he was suddenly unafraid.
�� Are� are you making fun of me?�� Curiousity
overwhelmed fear, and the anger was never there.
�� Do ya
want me to?�
�� The Druid whirled around, face to
face with his tormentor.� Standing a
full, maybe two feet taller than him was a rather large and lanky Troll,
scrutinizing him with small sharp eyes that stared over a long nose.� He blinked once.
�� A small, strangled gasp of surprise
was the only sound that escaped Joachim, before eyes rolled back and knees gave
out, the young Elf crashing lifelessly to the ground.
�� Scratching his head and glancing
around him, the Troll slung the unconscious Elf over his shoulders and began to
walk away singing a common bar song in halting Common, gradually leaving the
tragedy of Southshore far behind.

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Stranglethorn Fever