The Letters of Yichimet and Hidua
Yichimet - January 24, 2006
*An owl swoops by and calls for the letter to be untied from its
leg.*
3rd Letter from Yichimet to Hidua Grimtotem
In the Grimtotem script:
2nd day of 2nd week of Harvest:
I noticed with some satisfaction the empty-taloned return of
Carries Young Prey Far. At least you are not arrogant enough to
beg forgiveness or your own ignorance of Magatha's devices, or
some other idiocy.
Never mind that, though. I was angry. I am still angry. However,
our plans may yet drop fruit. Rahauro has taken a liking to me,
for I have done him some favors in the past few days. I will tell
you of it sometime, but it involved chasing down a young
Grimtotem's corpse and destroying troggs in a chasm in Thrall's
own city. The Warchief seems so intent on exiling all his
"traitors" that he doesn't pay attention to the danger growing
beneath his streets.
I believe having Rahauro on my side will help us, Sorcerer. He
does not say it, but Magatha seems to put greater trust in his
abilities and opinions than anyone will say. I have not been
stupid enough to try Magatha's tent again, of course, but in the
future I will visit her again, when her mask has softened and I'm
not in danger by doing so.
Enough of Magatha, though. I told you before of this group, The
Grim, to which I've pledged myself. I think our greatest hope may
lie with them. Magatha's power is great, but she still needs to
keep an innocent portrait in front of Cairne's face. This is not
a liability my new friends have. You see the advantage, I'm sure.
Before I end, I must mention: I have been having returning
Visions of the Tree. They are happening so often I may mix
another sapta for myself. Is this wise?
Glory in the hunt, Sorcerer.
Yichimet
4th Letter from Yichimet to Hidua Grimtotem
In the Grimtotem script:
6th day of the 2nd week of Harvest:
Yes, it was good to read your words, Sorcerer. For all your
faults, you have been like a father to me. I still think you're a
fool for not sharing with me this story you tell, but I can see
why you might have kept the secret. Magatha's past is a thick
forest--no one can see the whole of it, we have to wander tree to
tree--but I did not know you were a part of it. I will return
home sometime soon. You can tell me more then.
Everytime I return to Thunder Bluff, which is not often now,
perhaps twice since my last letter, Rahauro has some new task for
me--not much, truly, often just running something from one bluff
to the other like a messenger boy, but I will do anything to gain
his trust. He is the doorway to Magatha. However, yesterday he
asked me to bring a satchel to some un-named Grimtotem of the
Stonetalon branch. I did not look inside, but of course I'm
curious. I'll dig in the earth and find the answer.
You are right about the sapta, but I will have to do it soon no
matter what. If I can hold off until I return home, then I will,
but the Visions are getting more and more frequent. I do not
sleep without them now. The Tree looms, as always, and the
Hellfire that descends its trunk feels hotter each time I See it.
I am starting to wonder if we have not misread the signs. Have
you Seen anything more lately? Is it just me?
I've found myself surprised lately, also, by some of our Shu'halo
brothers and sisters. Several of them have made their way into
the Grim, and they fight as ferociously as those of our blood.
And none of them Grimtotem! It is thrilling, to say the least.
Maybe not all of the weaker tribes are deaf to our warnings. To
watch Snowfeather slice into her enemies! She is a lioness. I
will tell you of all of them soon, all of them. They are full of
rage. When they realize that this land is ours only, and will be
ours alone again soon, they will fight like all of our tribe to
the last of their breath.
I've written much. Carries Young Prey Far will be weighed down.
Glory in the hunt.
Yichimet
5th Letter from Yichimet to Hidua Grimtotem
In the Grimtotem script:
7th day of the 4th week of Harvest:
I know I told you I would write as soon as I returned to Mulgore,
Sorcerer, but I have not had the time. Simply an excuse, I know,
and your scathing letter is certainly fitting. However, much has
happened, and I hope it serves as a bedding for my late reply.
I did not make it back to the Barrens in time for the caravan
transport that I told you about. I wish I had left sooner.
Because I was not there, Snowfeather lost her hoof to some
pink-skinned mongrel. I rage like a Bulltotem and low like the
smallest youngblood, and I can only blame myself. And because of
other problems, I haven't had the chance to sit around the fire
with her and offer comfort and a plan to right this crime. She
seems confident in her ability to find a replacement, though what
sort of magics she will use to do so are beyond me.
Rahauro was annoyed with my disappearance, though I believe this
to be a not-so-thick bark covering his anxiety at losing me.
Worry pooled in his eyes even as he sneered at me. In the end,
though, he was quick to ask me to carry yet another package to
the Stonetalon Grimtotem. The same nameless, faceless bull took
the package as before, which means that I am still nameless and
faceless to many people also if Rahauro trusts me to carry the
package. I don't know if this is good or bad, though I'm sure it
is only bad for my vanity.
I have been getting weak spells, Hidua, and I don't know how to
fend them off. They are swiftly followed by a relapse of the
Vision, which has become a waking dream that I cannot break from
my head. The sapta you mixed while I was home did nothing, I am
sorry to say. The Vision I had that night was not what we had
seen months ago together. I am still piecing together its
meaning. I wish you had been there when I awoke. Where had you
gone? I can't fathom you most times.
In any case, the weak spells last for a few minutes to a whole
night at times. I can't understand. Perhaps it is my new hunting
grounds in Ashenvale. I am getting closer to the Tree, and I
think I may be feeling a pull to or from it. Oh, I cannot
describe it in a letter. You surely know what I mean. The only
one who may know is this hunter Mohan I told you of--though if he
has figured it out he is the most clever Shu'halo I've met. I
feel a bond with him, though, so I think I may tell him of the
spells, perhaps even the Vision. He is slowly unravelling his
story to me, and I think we trust each other enough that some
secrets may be passed. (It's funny, I can hear you urging caution
even so far away. The wind seems to speak your words today.)
I've written too much. The bird will be heavy enough to allow for
some snarling, squealing quilboar to shoot him down.
Glory in the hunt, Sorcerer.
Yichimet
6th Letter from Yichimet to Hidua Grimtotem
In the Grimtotem script:
6th day of the 5th week of Harvest:
I am going crazy. Beside this letter is another I wrote to Mohan.
I wrote it last night. I don't remember writing the letter.
The Vision is alive around me. I come back to the Needles and all
I see is Fire, Tongues, Tree. Stones speak.
I can't come see you. I can't see Rahauro. The bird's claws are
in my shoulder, and they are the only things keeping me from
licking the moon.
It seems Magatha has sent me on a quest, since I have a note from
her. I pray I did not say anything to her that would make her
know my condition. When I think of her face, I see skull after
skull after skull.
What am I to do, Sorcerer?
7th Letter from Yichimet to Hidua Grimtotem
In a sloppy mix of Grimtotem, Taurahe and something else:
I do not know the days anymore. I hope Young Prey does not eat
this or you. He feasted on my back last night. What a strange owl
he is, eating fur and skin his master pulled from his own back.
I Saw the future of our lands last night. I am not certain but I
think my friends were there. Mohan, though, was missing. The land
was brown and dead and demons turned under the grass. I chewed a
flower but it did not help.
I love you, Sorcerer, and you have destroyed me. My Eyes turn in
my head endlessly. I see the back of my skull.
I yell at them, but no one listens. The Tree stands tall in
Orgrimmar, the Tree stands tall elsewhere too.
I will keep a necklace of ears for you to remember me.
Khaz-thaur khir em midrothar r dun-efrit. Grima gar-modi.
These Tongues move on their own.
8th Letter of Yichimet to Hidua Grimtotem
In the Grimtotem script:
Sorcerer:
Many days and nights have gone by, and we have not said or
written a word to each other. When I woke in that small hut on
the top of Freewind Post and saw you sleeping next to me, the
sapta smudge still on your forehead, I wanted to die. And then I
wanted to murder you. And when that passed I wanted to put my
head in your lap and sleep for another three years.
When you woke, and made me choke down jerky and water and puff
peacebloom from your pipe, I remembered what it was around the
campfires with you, learning the stories of our people. When you
said your life was mine to take, I remembered the crack of your
staff over my head when we first fought. We cannot be separate
now, you and I. Old Moon Horn, we are bound to each other just as
our owls are bound to us.
So much sadness and despair has passed over me in the last weeks
that I cannot even begin to tell you the stories. The leadership
of the Grim has also passed hands, too, with the death of
Maledictus. It seems I gained the ground under my hooves only to
have it taken away again. Snowfeather is dead, Hidua. We had
barely time to talk between my waking and her own problems. What
am I to do? I spend days alone, searching for herbs and hunting
small animals. I am directionless. No wind blows at my back, and
nothing, not even the clouds or sun or moon show me a path.
I go to see Rahauro tonight. If he does not kill me for my
weakness, I will write more.
~Yichimet