(( This is being copied over from the old Grim site so that I can link it in my bio. Feel free to comment, but the story is long past. ))
1st Letter from Yichimet to Hidua Grimtotem
In the Grimtotem script:
5th day of 1st week of Harvest:
I've made my way to Mulgore and there set up to gain the trust of some of the Shu'halo in the area. They are less than fierce, as you said, but some of them are surprisingly perceptive about what I am, which raises the hair on their backs and makes their nostrils flare. It is a sight to see! As if they want to swing at me with whatever broom or shovel is in their hand. Perhaps being surrounded by such lush life these past few years has given them a keener sense of smell. I know I carry something of the Needles with me. Though why they would assume, then, that I was a Grimtotem when the simpering lesser clans are scattered throughout the glorious rock spires as well is beyond me.
Most interestingly, I have become involved with a group of members of the Horde called "The Grim." They are a motley bunch, but there is life and wisdom in many. One called Maledictus, a necromancer of the dead-ones with whom Magatha is so obsessed, preaches on the value of hate and anger near nightly. To hear his words is to know I've found those who feel as we do: death to the pink-skins, death to the long-ears. We will have our lands back, Hidua. The Shu'halo will roam this land once again, and the glory of the hunt will be what it was. The fat dwarves will not plunder the earth. The humans will not bring war wherever they go. The Kaldorei, in all their arrogance, will know what condescension is like.
There is also a Shu'halo druidess, Snowfeather, who seems uncomfortable whenever I am around. I can't read her well yet. I don't know if she is remembering some past injustice done her by a Grimtotem--a very likely scenario, I know--or if it's something else. I do hope it's something else.
I will soon be making my way to Thunder Bluff, Hidua. If possible, I would like an audience with Magatha. If you can arrange that, please do.
Glory in the hunt.
Yichimet
* * *
2nd Letter from Yichimet to Hidua Grimtotem
In the Grimtotem script:
7th day of 1st week of Harvest:
You, Hidua, are a fool. Magatha has never heard your name before, as you know. I am a fool for believing you. Out on orders from her? What, did you think Rahauro would simply send me away? That you would have time to gain her ear? He could see I was seeding her favor! All the other Shu'halo drones come to him with loathing dripping from their snouts. How could he not see me for what I am? You are more arrogant than I ever thought. In fact, you are dangerous to yourself.
Magatha has become suspicious of you and me. She did not say so directly, but I could see a change in her as she unravelled the facts. I practically grovelled at her feet, explaining that I had no idea she would not know of our plans, but still she thinks it was an act. Her mood grew so cold I could feel the air cool in her tent. If your plans were ever to succeed, you have split their roots now. The sapling will wither. Fool. Fool, fool, fool. Stay alert, Sorcerer. I don't know what Magatha may plan as a reprisal.
To think, my eyes--the ceremony--the Vision of the Tree--all of this now a pile of lifeless sand. Grow your cactus in it. I will move on to greater things.
Yichimet
* * *
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
* * *
3rd 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 from 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