The windswept cliff was
awash with the sounds of hammers and saws going as Mariskka sat on a
mossy boulder looking out over the grassy fields in the distance. Her
vantage point let her see far away, the grasses blowing in the breeze as
far as her eyes could see across the plains of Arathi. The sounds
behind her emanated from an Alliance lumber mill that was a bustle of
activity as the humans there shaped wood and prepared it for shipment
out of that place.
Although not normally drawn to war zones, Mariskka had agreed to escort a group of mill workers after hearing about the job from one of the posting boards that King Wrynn kept throughout Stormwind. She had heard of the miraculous Spirit Healers that could be found near such conflict zones, and the chance to speak to one of them and learn better ways to soothe the spirits of the dead was too tempting for the shaman to resist.
Although she had feared to encounter war, what she had not counted on was that she would be forced to battle boredom instead! After arriving at the lumber mill, she had let her warhorse go off to graze and the human mill workers had gone off to begin their work, leaving her alone with her thoughts. There was no spirit healer nearby, and she had nothing to do but watch the grass blow in the breeze; an activity that gave her a sense of calm for a time.
As she sat on the boulder, she reached into one of the many pouches sewn into her ringmail armor, pulling out a small leather bag. The bag was one of her prized possessions, containing a number of odd glass cubes that were about three times the size of normal dice. Each cube was elegantly inscribed with runes on each of the six faces, and the glass was see-through, allowing one to see the water contained within each cube. The corners of each of the cubes were capped with gold that glittered in the sun.
Mariskka smiled as she handled the cubes, feeling the energy of the water within them. Water was her prime element, and she was intimately connected with it in ways that were hard to define. It strengthened her, it taught her, it soothed her, and most importantly, it guided her. With the cubes she could foretell the future to a limited degree, although her auguries were not always precise. It was something she often did to pass the time, to amuse others or simply to try and help. The smile still playing across her lips, she happily threw three of the cubes into the folds of her armored skirt, cradling them in her lap as she looked to see what runes would show so she could use them to interpret the future. Her eyes widened when she saw the results of the augury; all three cubes had come up with a rune of death on them.
Only one of the cubes actually had a death rune inscribed on it!
With a gasp she gathered up the cubes, absently stuffing them back into her armor as she turned to look at the humans working at the mill. A deep sense of dread filled her and she waved frantically at the nearest man.
"Hey! Be taking shelter! Danger is coming, yes!" she shouted. The man turned and looked at her, blinking in surprise. A few of the other workers turned to watch, expressions ranging from amusement to confusion.
Mariskka bit her lip in frustration, trying to find the words to get the men to safety. "Be running now! Is...vhat is vord...disaster coming! Must be fleeing, yes! Please, be listening to vords am speaking!"
The men looked at each other and then back at Mariskka, stepping closer to her but not really grasping the urgency of what she was saying. Nearly in a panic now, the shaman did the only thing she could think of. In the blink of an eye she shimmered and suddenly a large wolf sat where she had been a moment before. The workers looked at it with wide eyes, and it growled menacingly at them, hackles raised. Several of the men took hesitant steps backwards, and Mariskka-wolf pounced, landing before the first one and growling loudly. The man jumped back, yelping and then turning to run and a few of the others followed suit. Soon all of the workers were in flight, not wanting to face an angry wolf unarmed. As the last man disappeared into the treeline near the mill, Mariskka's form shimmered again and she returned to her original shape, smiling to herself.
"Is being clumsy yes, but is vorking!" she said with satisfaction. Her smile faded as she looked around, the feeling of unease building within her. She cautiously walked towards the edge of the cliff and called upon the elements. Instantly four totems thumped to the ground near her, small stones hovering in the air around them and each glowing with the light of a different element. She reached out and touched the one that glowed with a green light, and earth magic surrounded her in a protective shield of power. Her instincts saved her life as a moment later two arrows flew through the air and struck the shield, shattering it but doing no harm to the Draenei.
Mariskka stumbled back in shock, tripping over her fire totem and falling to the ground as more arrows sped towards her. As she sprawled in the dirt with an 'oof!' the form of a large male Orc sped over her, a look of surprise on his face as he tripped over her hooves. The charging warrior had not expected her to fall, and in turn he fell, slamming into a Foresaken assassin that had been sneaking up behind the Draenei.
Mariskka winced as she heard the impact of the two bodies colliding, and she quickly rolled over and got to her feet as the two untangled themselves from the pile they had ended up in. She drew her mace and shield, not wanting to fight but knowing that she might have no choice.
"Am not vanting to hurt, yes?" She began to say, "I vill leave if are letting..."
Her words were cut off as a tendril of dark magic wrapped itself around her body and jerked her towards the edge of the cliff. There a blood elf with glowing blue eyes stood, runeblade ready as she flew through the air towards him. The death knight had her in his grip, and the magic squeezed her breath out as she was dragged towards him. Almost instinctively Mariskka cowered down, trying to resist the pull.
The death knight pulled her head first, or rather HORNS first, into his own chest.
Expecting to be hit when she landed, Mariskka blinked in surprised as her thick horns collided with the elf, who gave a gasp as he was knocked over. The shaman's relief was short lived however as the Tauren hunter who had originally been firing arrows at her grabbed her by the arm, a knife in his hand. Behind her, the Draenei could hear the sound of her other attackers rushing forward, intent on bringing her down.
"No! Am not vanting killing!" she yelled. Her form shimmered, turning into that of a wolf again and breaking the tauren's grip on her as she slipped past his knife. The orc warrior that had originally charged at her grabbed her tail, while the Forsaken slashed at her with his poison coated daggers. In a panic, Mariskka called upon the elements to aid her, not knowing what to do.
Lightning slashed down from the clear blue sky, striking the ground around the shaman with an explosion of power, hurling everyone away from her. In a blink of an eye, she was free, all of the grasping hands and slashing blades gone from around her. She shimmered, returning to her natural form and turned to look. Where there had been a group of enemies along the cliff's edge, now there was blackened grass. With horror she realized the explosion had thrown the attackers from the edge, and she rushed over to look down.
She sighed with relief upon seeing the treeline below her; it was possible that they survived the fall by being entangled in branches as they went down. She could only hope they hadn't been killed. Even as the thought occurred to her, a scrabbling sound made her blink and she realized the Forsaken clung to the edge of the cliff, his dagger sticking into the rock and one boney hand grasping the dirt of the cliff's edge.
"Be holding on! I vill lift you!" she said frantically. She knelt down, reaching out a hand to the Forsaken. "Be taking hand, yes. I am pulling up!"
To her great surprise, the Forsaken growled something in Gutterspeak and yanked his dagger free from the cliff face. Using his one hand as leverage, he slashed at her offered arm, his dagger slamming into the ringmail bracer along her forearm. The blow was dampened by the coils of interlinked metal, but the tip poked through, wounding her and making her squeak in shock. The Forsaken grinned viciously and tried to pull himself up so he could get another stab at her.
The cliff face he was holding onto crumbled away at that moment.
Mariskka could only watch in shock as he tumbled down into the distant trees below, the sounds of branches breaking from his weight echoing back up. She shook her head sadly, grasping her wounded forearm with her other hand. Her blue blood oozed from the wound, and she'd have to heal it before she did anything else. She paused for a moment, looking down into the impenetrable treeline below her, trying to ponder why someone would hate her so much that he would risk his own life to try and kill her when she was clearly trying to help.
"Vhy is being such hatred?" she whispered quietly. "Am not being hateful, am not vanting to be killing."
She sighed, shaking her head. She would likely never understand why such pure bitterness existed, and despite the things she'd seen in her thousands of years of life, she was glad that she didn't. There was always a positive, always a hopeful end to all things as far as she was concerned.
"Ah vell. Am thinking they are knowing now that shaman are not for stabbing, yes!" She said, shaking the glum thoughts from her mind. "They are being alright down there, yes. Are being thorns at bottom of cliff though. Is being sad thing am thinking...or maybe is not?"
She laughed at her own joke, turning to go find her horse. Predictably it had wandered off, and she wandered into the nearby woods in search of the beast.
Although not normally drawn to war zones, Mariskka had agreed to escort a group of mill workers after hearing about the job from one of the posting boards that King Wrynn kept throughout Stormwind. She had heard of the miraculous Spirit Healers that could be found near such conflict zones, and the chance to speak to one of them and learn better ways to soothe the spirits of the dead was too tempting for the shaman to resist.
Although she had feared to encounter war, what she had not counted on was that she would be forced to battle boredom instead! After arriving at the lumber mill, she had let her warhorse go off to graze and the human mill workers had gone off to begin their work, leaving her alone with her thoughts. There was no spirit healer nearby, and she had nothing to do but watch the grass blow in the breeze; an activity that gave her a sense of calm for a time.
As she sat on the boulder, she reached into one of the many pouches sewn into her ringmail armor, pulling out a small leather bag. The bag was one of her prized possessions, containing a number of odd glass cubes that were about three times the size of normal dice. Each cube was elegantly inscribed with runes on each of the six faces, and the glass was see-through, allowing one to see the water contained within each cube. The corners of each of the cubes were capped with gold that glittered in the sun.
Mariskka smiled as she handled the cubes, feeling the energy of the water within them. Water was her prime element, and she was intimately connected with it in ways that were hard to define. It strengthened her, it taught her, it soothed her, and most importantly, it guided her. With the cubes she could foretell the future to a limited degree, although her auguries were not always precise. It was something she often did to pass the time, to amuse others or simply to try and help. The smile still playing across her lips, she happily threw three of the cubes into the folds of her armored skirt, cradling them in her lap as she looked to see what runes would show so she could use them to interpret the future. Her eyes widened when she saw the results of the augury; all three cubes had come up with a rune of death on them.
Only one of the cubes actually had a death rune inscribed on it!
With a gasp she gathered up the cubes, absently stuffing them back into her armor as she turned to look at the humans working at the mill. A deep sense of dread filled her and she waved frantically at the nearest man.
"Hey! Be taking shelter! Danger is coming, yes!" she shouted. The man turned and looked at her, blinking in surprise. A few of the other workers turned to watch, expressions ranging from amusement to confusion.
Mariskka bit her lip in frustration, trying to find the words to get the men to safety. "Be running now! Is...vhat is vord...disaster coming! Must be fleeing, yes! Please, be listening to vords am speaking!"
The men looked at each other and then back at Mariskka, stepping closer to her but not really grasping the urgency of what she was saying. Nearly in a panic now, the shaman did the only thing she could think of. In the blink of an eye she shimmered and suddenly a large wolf sat where she had been a moment before. The workers looked at it with wide eyes, and it growled menacingly at them, hackles raised. Several of the men took hesitant steps backwards, and Mariskka-wolf pounced, landing before the first one and growling loudly. The man jumped back, yelping and then turning to run and a few of the others followed suit. Soon all of the workers were in flight, not wanting to face an angry wolf unarmed. As the last man disappeared into the treeline near the mill, Mariskka's form shimmered again and she returned to her original shape, smiling to herself.
"Is being clumsy yes, but is vorking!" she said with satisfaction. Her smile faded as she looked around, the feeling of unease building within her. She cautiously walked towards the edge of the cliff and called upon the elements. Instantly four totems thumped to the ground near her, small stones hovering in the air around them and each glowing with the light of a different element. She reached out and touched the one that glowed with a green light, and earth magic surrounded her in a protective shield of power. Her instincts saved her life as a moment later two arrows flew through the air and struck the shield, shattering it but doing no harm to the Draenei.
Mariskka stumbled back in shock, tripping over her fire totem and falling to the ground as more arrows sped towards her. As she sprawled in the dirt with an 'oof!' the form of a large male Orc sped over her, a look of surprise on his face as he tripped over her hooves. The charging warrior had not expected her to fall, and in turn he fell, slamming into a Foresaken assassin that had been sneaking up behind the Draenei.
Mariskka winced as she heard the impact of the two bodies colliding, and she quickly rolled over and got to her feet as the two untangled themselves from the pile they had ended up in. She drew her mace and shield, not wanting to fight but knowing that she might have no choice.
"Am not vanting to hurt, yes?" She began to say, "I vill leave if are letting..."
Her words were cut off as a tendril of dark magic wrapped itself around her body and jerked her towards the edge of the cliff. There a blood elf with glowing blue eyes stood, runeblade ready as she flew through the air towards him. The death knight had her in his grip, and the magic squeezed her breath out as she was dragged towards him. Almost instinctively Mariskka cowered down, trying to resist the pull.
The death knight pulled her head first, or rather HORNS first, into his own chest.
Expecting to be hit when she landed, Mariskka blinked in surprised as her thick horns collided with the elf, who gave a gasp as he was knocked over. The shaman's relief was short lived however as the Tauren hunter who had originally been firing arrows at her grabbed her by the arm, a knife in his hand. Behind her, the Draenei could hear the sound of her other attackers rushing forward, intent on bringing her down.
"No! Am not vanting killing!" she yelled. Her form shimmered, turning into that of a wolf again and breaking the tauren's grip on her as she slipped past his knife. The orc warrior that had originally charged at her grabbed her tail, while the Forsaken slashed at her with his poison coated daggers. In a panic, Mariskka called upon the elements to aid her, not knowing what to do.
Lightning slashed down from the clear blue sky, striking the ground around the shaman with an explosion of power, hurling everyone away from her. In a blink of an eye, she was free, all of the grasping hands and slashing blades gone from around her. She shimmered, returning to her natural form and turned to look. Where there had been a group of enemies along the cliff's edge, now there was blackened grass. With horror she realized the explosion had thrown the attackers from the edge, and she rushed over to look down.
She sighed with relief upon seeing the treeline below her; it was possible that they survived the fall by being entangled in branches as they went down. She could only hope they hadn't been killed. Even as the thought occurred to her, a scrabbling sound made her blink and she realized the Forsaken clung to the edge of the cliff, his dagger sticking into the rock and one boney hand grasping the dirt of the cliff's edge.
"Be holding on! I vill lift you!" she said frantically. She knelt down, reaching out a hand to the Forsaken. "Be taking hand, yes. I am pulling up!"
To her great surprise, the Forsaken growled something in Gutterspeak and yanked his dagger free from the cliff face. Using his one hand as leverage, he slashed at her offered arm, his dagger slamming into the ringmail bracer along her forearm. The blow was dampened by the coils of interlinked metal, but the tip poked through, wounding her and making her squeak in shock. The Forsaken grinned viciously and tried to pull himself up so he could get another stab at her.
The cliff face he was holding onto crumbled away at that moment.
Mariskka could only watch in shock as he tumbled down into the distant trees below, the sounds of branches breaking from his weight echoing back up. She shook her head sadly, grasping her wounded forearm with her other hand. Her blue blood oozed from the wound, and she'd have to heal it before she did anything else. She paused for a moment, looking down into the impenetrable treeline below her, trying to ponder why someone would hate her so much that he would risk his own life to try and kill her when she was clearly trying to help.
"Vhy is being such hatred?" she whispered quietly. "Am not being hateful, am not vanting to be killing."
She sighed, shaking her head. She would likely never understand why such pure bitterness existed, and despite the things she'd seen in her thousands of years of life, she was glad that she didn't. There was always a positive, always a hopeful end to all things as far as she was concerned.
"Ah vell. Am thinking they are knowing now that shaman are not for stabbing, yes!" She said, shaking the glum thoughts from her mind. "They are being alright down there, yes. Are being thorns at bottom of cliff though. Is being sad thing am thinking...or maybe is not?"
She laughed at her own joke, turning to go find her horse. Predictably it had wandered off, and she wandered into the nearby woods in search of the beast.
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