Ashagga Wolfskin: The Bridge
Ashagga, August 22, 2006
Ashagga stood in a dark cave, some kind of green ichor dripping
from the stalactites on the sloped roof above. Massive mushrooms,
easily as big as a medium-sized dog, grew in scattered formations
on the spongy ground, occasionally shuddering as if terrified,
sending small showers of spores to be whipped about by the
periodic eddies of wind through the cavernous tunnel.
In the distance, Ashagga could see a pair of glowing embers in
the darkness, eyes, she knew. She moved slowly toward them, the
white cloth of her lovely wedding dress scraping and tearing
along the uneven ground. As she drew nearer, the mists of
darkness parted to reveal a black stone altar, seven spears
planted face-down in the ground in a half-circle around the back.
Beside it stood Sylvanus Windrunner, the Dark Lady, the Banshee
Queen of the Forsaken, her eyes glowing like fire.
Ashagga moved to stand beside her, as she knew she was supposed
to. There was a figure on the altar, but she could not make it
out. Sylvanus touched her neck, and she felt ice spread through
her veins. The Banshee spoke words Ashagga could not recognize,
not elven, not gutterspeak, not orcish. The body on the altar was
her mother. The spears were point up, and each bore a head:
Chingaso, Seveir, Corian, Valzodar, Regnanetah, Bloodscream,
Hektar.
Sylvanus grabbed her by the hair and hauled her head roughly
back, and Ashagga’s eyes went wide. The Dark Lady’s lips closed
on hers, and she was made of ice so cold it burned like fire.
Ashagga felt like she was dying.
Ashagga Wolfskin: The Bridge by Ashagga
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Keeper Of Lore
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Re: Ashagga Wolfskin: The Bridge by Ashagga
She woke with a start, nearly sitting upright in her desire to
get away. Beside her, Corian slept fitfully, murmuring under his
breath. Her chest rose and fell with panicked gasps, adrenaline
pumping through her body. Only a dream.
She knew she would never get back to sleep, now. Quietly, she
slipped out of bed, dressed in her leathers, and slid out the
door. Corian never woke. She was a rogue, after all.
The streets of Orgrimmar bustled with activity, even at this time
of night. Trolls mounted on loping raptors hurried to or from the
battlemasters, seeking new orders or returning from old. Fires
still burned inside the Auction House, and the shadows of those
eager to get a jump start on their competition haggled over
trinkets. Shadows occasionally blotted out the stars, signaling
the return or departure of yet another wyvern.
Through all this, Ashagga moved, letting herself actually become
a part of the complex system that was the Horde. For so long,
she’d avoided it, tried to remain aloof and apart to better serve
her own schemes. Now, she was a member of the Grim and a Sergeant
in the Horde. She’d commanded small squads on elite missions
against the elves of Ashenvale and defended the resources of the
Arathi Basin. She was a part of something greater.
She found herself avoiding the Shadow Cleft. She only went there
when she had to, and she preferred to train and purchase poisons
from the dealers in the Undercity when she could. There were
still problems in the Shadow Cleft, and she was not eager to deal
with them. She smiled a little to herself. She was still running
from her problems. Some things never changed.
Instead, she headed past the Valley of Spirits, nodding to the
snake vendor on his incessant rounds. Ashagga found herself
standing on the bridge between Orgrimmar and the Barrens, looking
down at the Southfury river as it coursed beneath her. She could
still remember clearly the time spent along its banks hunting
dreadmaw crocolisks… poor Misha Tor’kren. She should go back to
her, see how she’s doing.
That was when she felt the hands on her neck, felt her head
shoved forward and her body bent double over the railing of the
river. She tried to kick backward, but her foot hit solidly
compacted muscle. She elicited a grunt from her assailant, and
little more. A hand grabbed her ankle, and she was suddenly
pitched forward over the rail. For a heart-stopping instant, she
was free falling. Her assailant, however, maintained his grip on
her leg, and she found herself dangling over the rushing waters.
"Well, orc bitch, it'ss good to ssee you again. We were beginning
to think you were avoiding uss."
Ashagga looked up to see Blythe standing beside her assailant,
his massive orcish bodyguard, Brog. She swallowed the sarcastic
retort that came to mind, deciding she didn’t want to fall into
the rushing waters of the Southfury.
"Blythe... 'allo. I was jus' t'inkin' about yer."
"I doubt that very much, Asshagga. Or, rather, if you were, then
I am very dissappointed that we had to come find you, and not the
other way around."
"Look, Blythe, I don' live inna Cleft anymore. I got me a new
place ter live, so yer don’ ‘ave any reason ter take me money."
"We don’t?” Blythe looked at Brog, who grinned. “I can think of a
reasson, orc bitch. We want money. You have it. That sseemss like
a fine reasson to me."
Ashagga grimaced. "Blythe, look at what I's wearin'."
"A tabard, it would sseem."
"Exactly. Now, look at the symbol what's on the tabard."
"The ssymbol of the Grim, if I am not misstaken."
"Also right. I’s a Grim, Blythe. You mess wi’ me, you mess wi’
all o’ us. That ain’t worth it fer a piece o’ shine or a piece o’
ass. I promise."
Blythe sighed. “Brog, I do believe our little orc bitch iss
getting ssnippy. I do not think sshe will let uss have fun with
her anymore.” Brog growled down at her and shook her, hard enough
to send some of her herbs and collected items tumbling from her
backpack into the river below. Blythe sighed. “It’ss alwayss a
sshame when a toy sstopss working. I guesss we’ll jusst have to
let her go."
Ashagga smiled for an instant before Brog’s laughter followed,
and his hand just opened. Ashagga was falling, hitting the water,
struggling to breathe, and then there was only darkness.
get away. Beside her, Corian slept fitfully, murmuring under his
breath. Her chest rose and fell with panicked gasps, adrenaline
pumping through her body. Only a dream.
She knew she would never get back to sleep, now. Quietly, she
slipped out of bed, dressed in her leathers, and slid out the
door. Corian never woke. She was a rogue, after all.
The streets of Orgrimmar bustled with activity, even at this time
of night. Trolls mounted on loping raptors hurried to or from the
battlemasters, seeking new orders or returning from old. Fires
still burned inside the Auction House, and the shadows of those
eager to get a jump start on their competition haggled over
trinkets. Shadows occasionally blotted out the stars, signaling
the return or departure of yet another wyvern.
Through all this, Ashagga moved, letting herself actually become
a part of the complex system that was the Horde. For so long,
she’d avoided it, tried to remain aloof and apart to better serve
her own schemes. Now, she was a member of the Grim and a Sergeant
in the Horde. She’d commanded small squads on elite missions
against the elves of Ashenvale and defended the resources of the
Arathi Basin. She was a part of something greater.
She found herself avoiding the Shadow Cleft. She only went there
when she had to, and she preferred to train and purchase poisons
from the dealers in the Undercity when she could. There were
still problems in the Shadow Cleft, and she was not eager to deal
with them. She smiled a little to herself. She was still running
from her problems. Some things never changed.
Instead, she headed past the Valley of Spirits, nodding to the
snake vendor on his incessant rounds. Ashagga found herself
standing on the bridge between Orgrimmar and the Barrens, looking
down at the Southfury river as it coursed beneath her. She could
still remember clearly the time spent along its banks hunting
dreadmaw crocolisks… poor Misha Tor’kren. She should go back to
her, see how she’s doing.
That was when she felt the hands on her neck, felt her head
shoved forward and her body bent double over the railing of the
river. She tried to kick backward, but her foot hit solidly
compacted muscle. She elicited a grunt from her assailant, and
little more. A hand grabbed her ankle, and she was suddenly
pitched forward over the rail. For a heart-stopping instant, she
was free falling. Her assailant, however, maintained his grip on
her leg, and she found herself dangling over the rushing waters.
"Well, orc bitch, it'ss good to ssee you again. We were beginning
to think you were avoiding uss."
Ashagga looked up to see Blythe standing beside her assailant,
his massive orcish bodyguard, Brog. She swallowed the sarcastic
retort that came to mind, deciding she didn’t want to fall into
the rushing waters of the Southfury.
"Blythe... 'allo. I was jus' t'inkin' about yer."
"I doubt that very much, Asshagga. Or, rather, if you were, then
I am very dissappointed that we had to come find you, and not the
other way around."
"Look, Blythe, I don' live inna Cleft anymore. I got me a new
place ter live, so yer don’ ‘ave any reason ter take me money."
"We don’t?” Blythe looked at Brog, who grinned. “I can think of a
reasson, orc bitch. We want money. You have it. That sseemss like
a fine reasson to me."
Ashagga grimaced. "Blythe, look at what I's wearin'."
"A tabard, it would sseem."
"Exactly. Now, look at the symbol what's on the tabard."
"The ssymbol of the Grim, if I am not misstaken."
"Also right. I’s a Grim, Blythe. You mess wi’ me, you mess wi’
all o’ us. That ain’t worth it fer a piece o’ shine or a piece o’
ass. I promise."
Blythe sighed. “Brog, I do believe our little orc bitch iss
getting ssnippy. I do not think sshe will let uss have fun with
her anymore.” Brog growled down at her and shook her, hard enough
to send some of her herbs and collected items tumbling from her
backpack into the river below. Blythe sighed. “It’ss alwayss a
sshame when a toy sstopss working. I guesss we’ll jusst have to
let her go."
Ashagga smiled for an instant before Brog’s laughter followed,
and his hand just opened. Ashagga was falling, hitting the water,
struggling to breathe, and then there was only darkness.
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Keeper Of Lore
- Lost
- Posts: 1749
Re: Ashagga Wolfskin: The Bridge by Ashagga
She slowly came to consciousness some time later. A goblin stood
over her, prodding her with a stick, until she coughed and
gasped, and then hescowled.
"Damn! I was hoping for some salvage!"
Ashagga rolled onto her back on the bank of the Southfury river,
looking around. She spotted the crane over Ratchet and thanked
whatever gods existed that she hadn’t been washed out to sea. The
goblin, seeing she was alive and was planning to remain so,
shrugged and resumed his patrol around the edge of Ratchet,
cudgel in hand. Such was the concern of the Steamwheedle Cartel.
Blythe had honestly tried to kill her. She gritted her teeth.
Though she felt weak as a kitten, she knew the time had come to
end this fiasco. She couldn’t do it by herself, though. Her hand
dipped into her pouch and pulled out her hearthstone.
"Seveir, Corian, Chingaso... I need your 'elp."
[Chingaso]
Chingaso sit at table in guild hall, not have pressing task for
once. But Chingaso uneasy. Something not right in Chingaso world.
Chingaso reflect on time spent so far with Grim. Feeling of
gratitude once again settle on Chingaso as think to self how
great to be Grim. Chingaso resolve let Pincus and Grainger know
how great Azeroth since night in Shadow Cleft when Chingaso
answer Grim call.
But still, something feel wrong.
Chingaso feel call of hearthstone, pull from pack to see who
call.
"Seveir, Corian, Chingaso... I need your 'elp."
That Shaggy! What happen now?
Chingaso jump up and head out into Orgrimmar, senses attune to
track. Senses pull Chingaso to Valley of Spirit, toward bridge to
Barrens. On way there, Chingaso spot Blyth and Brom, look surly
and unpleasant as usual. Chingaso know of past trouble Shaggy
have with these.
"Blythe, you see Shaggy?" Chingaso ask.
"Perhaps. What of it hunter?" Blythe sneer as Brom step close.
"Blythe call off dog before Chingaso anger Blythe," Chingaso
warn. Brom step back, having tangle with Chingaso before and come
up short. "Know this, dead, if Chingaso find that Blythe or Brom
hurt Shaggy, Chingaso be back. And this time Chingaso not come
alone." Chingaso scowl to match look on face of Blythe.
Blythe blanch bit and say, "We have done nothing. Leave us be and
trouble us no more with your threats."
"Not threat this time. Promise. Blythe also should know that
Shaggy now member of Grim. When Chingaso say no come alone,
Chingaso mean bring Grim. Blythe and Brom not want tangle with
Grim..."
Chingaso head for bridge, then across, and run down riverbank to
goblin stand next to what look like stray flotsam from river. But
as get closer, Chingaso realize it Shaggy. Chingaso let out huge
roar of anger, cause goblin wet self and scamper off.
"Shaggy?" Chingaso ask tentative...
over her, prodding her with a stick, until she coughed and
gasped, and then hescowled.
"Damn! I was hoping for some salvage!"
Ashagga rolled onto her back on the bank of the Southfury river,
looking around. She spotted the crane over Ratchet and thanked
whatever gods existed that she hadn’t been washed out to sea. The
goblin, seeing she was alive and was planning to remain so,
shrugged and resumed his patrol around the edge of Ratchet,
cudgel in hand. Such was the concern of the Steamwheedle Cartel.
Blythe had honestly tried to kill her. She gritted her teeth.
Though she felt weak as a kitten, she knew the time had come to
end this fiasco. She couldn’t do it by herself, though. Her hand
dipped into her pouch and pulled out her hearthstone.
"Seveir, Corian, Chingaso... I need your 'elp."
[Chingaso]
Chingaso sit at table in guild hall, not have pressing task for
once. But Chingaso uneasy. Something not right in Chingaso world.
Chingaso reflect on time spent so far with Grim. Feeling of
gratitude once again settle on Chingaso as think to self how
great to be Grim. Chingaso resolve let Pincus and Grainger know
how great Azeroth since night in Shadow Cleft when Chingaso
answer Grim call.
But still, something feel wrong.
Chingaso feel call of hearthstone, pull from pack to see who
call.
"Seveir, Corian, Chingaso... I need your 'elp."
That Shaggy! What happen now?
Chingaso jump up and head out into Orgrimmar, senses attune to
track. Senses pull Chingaso to Valley of Spirit, toward bridge to
Barrens. On way there, Chingaso spot Blyth and Brom, look surly
and unpleasant as usual. Chingaso know of past trouble Shaggy
have with these.
"Blythe, you see Shaggy?" Chingaso ask.
"Perhaps. What of it hunter?" Blythe sneer as Brom step close.
"Blythe call off dog before Chingaso anger Blythe," Chingaso
warn. Brom step back, having tangle with Chingaso before and come
up short. "Know this, dead, if Chingaso find that Blythe or Brom
hurt Shaggy, Chingaso be back. And this time Chingaso not come
alone." Chingaso scowl to match look on face of Blythe.
Blythe blanch bit and say, "We have done nothing. Leave us be and
trouble us no more with your threats."
"Not threat this time. Promise. Blythe also should know that
Shaggy now member of Grim. When Chingaso say no come alone,
Chingaso mean bring Grim. Blythe and Brom not want tangle with
Grim..."
Chingaso head for bridge, then across, and run down riverbank to
goblin stand next to what look like stray flotsam from river. But
as get closer, Chingaso realize it Shaggy. Chingaso let out huge
roar of anger, cause goblin wet self and scamper off.
"Shaggy?" Chingaso ask tentative...