A Noble Worg Passes, Two Hunters are Reborn
Posted: Mon Mar 29, 2010 4:26 pm
Kind of a long title, I know. Hope you enjoy and please feel free to comment, though try to keep the unnecessary snide comments to a minimum. Critiquing is welcome but bashing is not appreciated. 
This is a tale of my first notable adventure in Mulgore with my brother Volzinja. A great worg is known to stalk these lands.....
Jinvaya’s raven-black braids flapped gently against her chest as the goblin-crafted zeppelin hummed softly through the skies over Mulgore. It was a rather serene flight, for the fields of Mulgore stretched as far as her eyes could see. Volzinja’s wind serpent Jiraji squinted his eyes and hissed contently. The breeze was warm and pleasant, as were most of the days in Mulgore.
Jinvaya was the first to break the silence. “Brotha,” she said without looking Volzinja’s direction, “do ya see anything?”
“Dere be some lions, some wolves, but nothin’ outta da ordinary, ‘mon.”
Suddenly something caught Jinvaya’s eye. “Look, Volzinja!” she shouted, “it’s Ghost Howl hisself!” She quickly strung her simple bow and without more than a moment’s pause, leapt from the zeppelin to the hills below.
Volzinja cringed as he watched his sister’s form disappear from sight. “Looks like we be makin’ our stop here, ‘mon,” he sighed to Jiraji, as he too, leapt from the still-floating zeppelin.
Jiraji flicked his tongue in amusement. I’m going to die young, travelling with these two, the young wind serpent chuckled to himself, as he descended gracefully on the warm currents, down to where his master had jumped.
Jinvaya had miscalculated her leap, and landed harshly on the side of a hill. She rolled in an attempt to absorb some of the shock of the fall, but it was of little use. Pain wracked through her legs and for a moment rendered her unable to breathe. Finally, the advanced regeneration abilities her troll race was so well-known for began to take effect, and the pain began to subside. She slowly made her way to her feet and brushed the grass from her leather pants. “By da Loa!” she cursed as she searched the land surrounding her. Ghost Howl was nowhere in sight. Volzinja had landed some distance away and had just reached Jinvaya’s location.
“Ya lost him, ‘mon?” Volzinja sighed as he glanced towards Jiraji, who had coiled himself upon a sun-bathed rock. Sometimes it seemed as if Jiraji was the only one with any sense. The wind serpent simply looked up at him and quickly flitted his tongue once before turning his gaze toward Jinvaya.
Don’t look at me, you two are the trackers. I’m just here for the fun. The semblance of a smile crept upon Jiraji’s face.
“Don’t gimme dat, Volzinja!” Jinvaya folded her arms across her chest defensively. “He’s a legend for a reason, dey say he moves like a ghost – ya see him one moment and den da next, he’s gone”. But in reality, Jinvaya knew that her tracking skills were somewhat lacking.
Volzinja knew better than to provoke his sister further, so he shrugged and pointed westward. “I’ll search to da west, you search to da east. I figure he stays near da other wolves, so we can circle back and meet here at dis hill if neither of us see him.”
Jinvaya grumbled some trollish expletives, then nodded and began down the hill. The sun over Mulgore was slowly retiring itself over the hills, and an orange light began to filter over the valley. Wolves stalked about in search of game, and Jinvaya made sure to keep her distance. She was a vicious fighter, but did not believe in killing if it could be avoided. Lone lionesses prowled around the few trees that dotted the landscape. While it seemed they were alone, her hunter instincts told her that other members of the pride would be waiting nearby in case of meal or foe. These, too, she avoided. As previously agreed, she travelled to the edge of the hills before turning westward to circle back. Suddenly, a low hum emanated from the blood-filled vial that she carried around her neck.
Jinvaya! I found da worg! Ghost Howl be out to da west! Come, quickly!
Her pendant was one of two voodoo charms crafted by a witch doctor when the siblings were but toddlers. They were simple vials, filled with blood taken from each sibling that was mixed before a voodoo hex placed upon them. While it seemed barbaric to other races, these vials were a way for them to always remain in contact. They had proved invaluable throughout their lives. And now, it had proved to be a great help in locating the elusive worg.
Jinvaya strapped her bow to her back and began a full-speed run westward. It wasn’t long before she located Volzinja crouched upon a low hill, bow in hand, staring intently at the silvery-white worg that paced some hundred yards to the north. Jinvaya’s breath caught in her throat upon seeing the great beast up close for the first time. He was a truly remarkable creature, of a respectable size to say the least. He seemed, for lack of a better description, ancient. Jinvaya turned to Volzinja, who simultaneously glanced her way. His face seemed to reflect her sentiment at that moment. They felt it was wrong to fell such a beast, but legend said that whoever could slay this worg would take on his strength. Ghost Howl was renowned for his superior hunting skills, and for his unnatural ability to remain unseen and silent. But more importantly, the elusive worg was powerful – very powerful. These were traits necessary for an ambitious young hunter…or pair of hunters, in this case.
The two hunters prepared themselves, nodded to each other, and with arrows aimed, charged in unison. I shall show you the meaning of POWER, beast! Jiraji hissed. His orange scales flashed under the light of the setting sun, and he was but a blur as he dashed forth to put himself between the two hunters and Ghost Howl’s fury. The massive worg reared up on his hind paws and was coming down on Jiraji, fangs beared. The cunning wind serpent hissed furiously and unleashed a powerful bolt of pure lightning as he dodged sideways. The lightning danced across the worg’s body, stunning him for a moment.
With brutal accuracy, the hunters’ arrows found their mark, deep within the breast of the great beast. They pierced the old worg’s heart, and with a soft thud unexpected of his size, his body found the earth. Jinvaya, now crying, turned to her brother and buried her face in his chest as he embraced her. Volzinja tried his best to bury the lump that had formed within his throat. It was never a happy moment for any respectable hunter to slay such a creature. The winds moaned softly and the trees’ branches drooped; it seemed as if the very land itself mourned the worg’s passing.
Jiraji simply flicked his tongue at the worg’s corpse. Never underestimate a child of Quetz’lun, beast. The wind serpent was well-aware of his lineage, and made sure everyone else knew it as well.
Suddenly, the winds died and the usual sounds of Mulgore stopped. Jinvaya at once ceased her crying and looked curiously at the now-deceased worg’s body. An eerie, otherworldly crimson glow began to gather itself in the air above. Finally, it manifested roughly into the shape of Ghost Howl. The figure shifted as the substance struggled to hold itself together, and turned its “head” towards them. With what would have been a powerful howl, but was instead an enormous gust of blistering wind, the worg figure lurched forward and began to charge through the air at the two troll siblings.
Stunned, all they could do was watch in amazement and horror, holding each other, as the form collided with them. They stumbled back a bit before falling to their knees as an exhilarating wave of raw energy washed over them. They could feel the worg’s ancient, powerful rage coursing through their veins; until finally, once it had imbued itself wholly upon every fiber of their beings, rushed out of their bodies and galloped off behind them. The troll siblings gathered their composure and reached their feet, and watched as Ghost Howl finally dispersed into the Mulgore breeze, disappearing forever.
Then, the world around them began to sway and turn black. Volzinja collapsed first, followed a moment later by Jinvaya. As their consciousness left them, Jiraji flapped over to them and coiled his scaled body in the grass before them.
Rest now, he whispered, and may the Loa protect you.
This is a tale of my first notable adventure in Mulgore with my brother Volzinja. A great worg is known to stalk these lands.....
Jinvaya’s raven-black braids flapped gently against her chest as the goblin-crafted zeppelin hummed softly through the skies over Mulgore. It was a rather serene flight, for the fields of Mulgore stretched as far as her eyes could see. Volzinja’s wind serpent Jiraji squinted his eyes and hissed contently. The breeze was warm and pleasant, as were most of the days in Mulgore.
Jinvaya was the first to break the silence. “Brotha,” she said without looking Volzinja’s direction, “do ya see anything?”
“Dere be some lions, some wolves, but nothin’ outta da ordinary, ‘mon.”
Suddenly something caught Jinvaya’s eye. “Look, Volzinja!” she shouted, “it’s Ghost Howl hisself!” She quickly strung her simple bow and without more than a moment’s pause, leapt from the zeppelin to the hills below.
Volzinja cringed as he watched his sister’s form disappear from sight. “Looks like we be makin’ our stop here, ‘mon,” he sighed to Jiraji, as he too, leapt from the still-floating zeppelin.
Jiraji flicked his tongue in amusement. I’m going to die young, travelling with these two, the young wind serpent chuckled to himself, as he descended gracefully on the warm currents, down to where his master had jumped.
Jinvaya had miscalculated her leap, and landed harshly on the side of a hill. She rolled in an attempt to absorb some of the shock of the fall, but it was of little use. Pain wracked through her legs and for a moment rendered her unable to breathe. Finally, the advanced regeneration abilities her troll race was so well-known for began to take effect, and the pain began to subside. She slowly made her way to her feet and brushed the grass from her leather pants. “By da Loa!” she cursed as she searched the land surrounding her. Ghost Howl was nowhere in sight. Volzinja had landed some distance away and had just reached Jinvaya’s location.
“Ya lost him, ‘mon?” Volzinja sighed as he glanced towards Jiraji, who had coiled himself upon a sun-bathed rock. Sometimes it seemed as if Jiraji was the only one with any sense. The wind serpent simply looked up at him and quickly flitted his tongue once before turning his gaze toward Jinvaya.
Don’t look at me, you two are the trackers. I’m just here for the fun. The semblance of a smile crept upon Jiraji’s face.
“Don’t gimme dat, Volzinja!” Jinvaya folded her arms across her chest defensively. “He’s a legend for a reason, dey say he moves like a ghost – ya see him one moment and den da next, he’s gone”. But in reality, Jinvaya knew that her tracking skills were somewhat lacking.
Volzinja knew better than to provoke his sister further, so he shrugged and pointed westward. “I’ll search to da west, you search to da east. I figure he stays near da other wolves, so we can circle back and meet here at dis hill if neither of us see him.”
Jinvaya grumbled some trollish expletives, then nodded and began down the hill. The sun over Mulgore was slowly retiring itself over the hills, and an orange light began to filter over the valley. Wolves stalked about in search of game, and Jinvaya made sure to keep her distance. She was a vicious fighter, but did not believe in killing if it could be avoided. Lone lionesses prowled around the few trees that dotted the landscape. While it seemed they were alone, her hunter instincts told her that other members of the pride would be waiting nearby in case of meal or foe. These, too, she avoided. As previously agreed, she travelled to the edge of the hills before turning westward to circle back. Suddenly, a low hum emanated from the blood-filled vial that she carried around her neck.
Jinvaya! I found da worg! Ghost Howl be out to da west! Come, quickly!
Her pendant was one of two voodoo charms crafted by a witch doctor when the siblings were but toddlers. They were simple vials, filled with blood taken from each sibling that was mixed before a voodoo hex placed upon them. While it seemed barbaric to other races, these vials were a way for them to always remain in contact. They had proved invaluable throughout their lives. And now, it had proved to be a great help in locating the elusive worg.
Jinvaya strapped her bow to her back and began a full-speed run westward. It wasn’t long before she located Volzinja crouched upon a low hill, bow in hand, staring intently at the silvery-white worg that paced some hundred yards to the north. Jinvaya’s breath caught in her throat upon seeing the great beast up close for the first time. He was a truly remarkable creature, of a respectable size to say the least. He seemed, for lack of a better description, ancient. Jinvaya turned to Volzinja, who simultaneously glanced her way. His face seemed to reflect her sentiment at that moment. They felt it was wrong to fell such a beast, but legend said that whoever could slay this worg would take on his strength. Ghost Howl was renowned for his superior hunting skills, and for his unnatural ability to remain unseen and silent. But more importantly, the elusive worg was powerful – very powerful. These were traits necessary for an ambitious young hunter…or pair of hunters, in this case.
The two hunters prepared themselves, nodded to each other, and with arrows aimed, charged in unison. I shall show you the meaning of POWER, beast! Jiraji hissed. His orange scales flashed under the light of the setting sun, and he was but a blur as he dashed forth to put himself between the two hunters and Ghost Howl’s fury. The massive worg reared up on his hind paws and was coming down on Jiraji, fangs beared. The cunning wind serpent hissed furiously and unleashed a powerful bolt of pure lightning as he dodged sideways. The lightning danced across the worg’s body, stunning him for a moment.
With brutal accuracy, the hunters’ arrows found their mark, deep within the breast of the great beast. They pierced the old worg’s heart, and with a soft thud unexpected of his size, his body found the earth. Jinvaya, now crying, turned to her brother and buried her face in his chest as he embraced her. Volzinja tried his best to bury the lump that had formed within his throat. It was never a happy moment for any respectable hunter to slay such a creature. The winds moaned softly and the trees’ branches drooped; it seemed as if the very land itself mourned the worg’s passing.
Jiraji simply flicked his tongue at the worg’s corpse. Never underestimate a child of Quetz’lun, beast. The wind serpent was well-aware of his lineage, and made sure everyone else knew it as well.
Suddenly, the winds died and the usual sounds of Mulgore stopped. Jinvaya at once ceased her crying and looked curiously at the now-deceased worg’s body. An eerie, otherworldly crimson glow began to gather itself in the air above. Finally, it manifested roughly into the shape of Ghost Howl. The figure shifted as the substance struggled to hold itself together, and turned its “head” towards them. With what would have been a powerful howl, but was instead an enormous gust of blistering wind, the worg figure lurched forward and began to charge through the air at the two troll siblings.
Stunned, all they could do was watch in amazement and horror, holding each other, as the form collided with them. They stumbled back a bit before falling to their knees as an exhilarating wave of raw energy washed over them. They could feel the worg’s ancient, powerful rage coursing through their veins; until finally, once it had imbued itself wholly upon every fiber of their beings, rushed out of their bodies and galloped off behind them. The troll siblings gathered their composure and reached their feet, and watched as Ghost Howl finally dispersed into the Mulgore breeze, disappearing forever.
Then, the world around them began to sway and turn black. Volzinja collapsed first, followed a moment later by Jinvaya. As their consciousness left them, Jiraji flapped over to them and coiled his scaled body in the grass before them.
Rest now, he whispered, and may the Loa protect you.
The smug but patient mentor...makes me want to give wind serpents another try. ^^ The blood vials were also a great idea, both believable and convenient. 
I really like how you depicted the hunt, and especially the spiritual event afterwards.
Yeah, the whole jumping-from-zeppelin thing actually happened, too. In a moment of sheer absent-mindedness, we both just jumped right off the side, except in reality we died and had to recover our corpses.....
I thought it'd be more exciting to you know...not die in the story.