Around The Campfire by Ashagga

[Keeper Of Lore]

Ashagga nodded and placed her hands at the small of her back, letting the brave tie them in place. She kept her hands tightly clenched as he tied the rawhide around her wrists, grinning slightly.

"You tie a fine knot, Muatah. Practice often?"

It was lighthearted banter, but she could not put much of a smile into it. This was a deadly serious situation, and she could only hope her friends would speak for her. They had all promised they would help, but...

As soon as Muatah finished tying her hands, she relaxed her wrists, giving her maybe a quarter inch of spare movement. She did not plan to escape, but she wanted to keep her options open. At best, she might be able to slip free, vanish into the night. At worst, she could assist if some damned fool Alliance decided to show.

Come on, Yichimet... she thought to herself. You are wise enough to see me. Look past your fear and your concern and SEE ME. Once tied, however, she fell silent, awaiting communication with the others.

[Keeper Of Lore]

A short while after receiving Yichimet's call, Syreena arrived at the top of the spire. Before emerging from the shadows, she noticed the tenseness of the gathering. She looked around, expecting to see Alliance nearby, but there were only Grims.

She stepped into the circle of light from the campfire, bowing her head to Muatah, then offering a smile of greeting to Ashagga, before moving to the shaman.

"I'm here, Yichi," she said. She was curious to know what was going on, but she suspected it had something to do with Warneshi's sword. Shaggy had already told her that Yichimet wanted to destroy it.

[Keeper Of Lore]

Yichimet heard the sounds of battle in the background of Chingaso's hearthstone. "Come find us when you are free, brother. Ashagga needs you."

Minutes later, he watched Syreena approach the fire, and saw how cloudy with confusion her face was. He looked at Ashagga, who stared at the ground, and was ready to shock her silent with the earth's concussion if she burst out. He wanted only Syreena's words.

"Ashagga says she has spoken with you about the sword, sister. What did she tell you?"

[Keeper Of Lore]

Syreena looked again at Ashagga. Only now she noticed the ring of fire at her feet, and that her hands were held behind her back. She looked for the sword, but she didn't see it. Even more confused now, and getting a sense of danger in this situation, she turned back to Yichimet.

"She told me that the Tyrant talks to her through the sword, and I asked her if I could talk to him sometime. But she said that you want to destroy it. Where is it? Did you destroy it already?" Syreena paused, frowning. "Warneshi is a Grim, Yichi. Please, I hope you didn't cut off our only connection with him. I miss him."

[Keeper Of Lore]

Yichimet shook his head. "The sword is not destroyed, sister. I do not think I can destroy it. I don't think anyone can." He breathed deeply. Telling this story to Syreena would be difficult. Sometimes her mind was so youngblood that she didn't understand his stories. He hoped this was not one of those times.

"The Tyrant went back to the desert to die, Syreena. You know that. When the Grim fought his mother and won, he lost his power. Remember how old his face was at the end?

"The sword was back with his tribe, where it should be. But now Warneshi, the old dead king, is talking to Ashagga. And her words are not her own. Something is wrong, sister. The sword is a thorn. It will prick her, and dig in deeper and deeper until she is infected and even my magic cannot cure her.

"Even if it is our only way of speaking to the Tyrant, it must go back to its place."

Muatah was silent, keeping his bow and eyes focused on Ashagga.

[Keeper Of Lore]

The little rogue shook her head, refusing to accept Yichimet's words.

"No, Warneshi is Grim. He would never harm us," she insisted as she turned away from the shaman to go to Ashagga.

"Shaggy? Are you okay?" Syreena reached out to touch her arm. "Why is there an arrow aimed at you?"

[Keeper Of Lore]

Ashagga stepped back, away from Syreena, shaking her head. She did not speak, nor move from the ring of fire, but her eyes flickered from Syreena to Muatah and back.

She would not speak. Let Yichimet seek out the truth.

[Keeper Of Lore]

"She will not speak, sister, because she knows I will silence her. She threatened me. Muatah points his arrow at her because she wanted to kill me."

Yichimet knew this would be difficult. He did not truly want to see Lupen--the warlock had too many motives of his own--but he needed a demon-talker here.

"Syreena, something has happened to Warneshi. I saw him before Muatah showed, standing behind Ashagga, looking young again. And then he disappeared like a Spirit. And there is demon-stink in the air.

"Do you remember how you had that voice in your head? Ashagga has that, too, only she has many, many voices in her head. And I think they are yelling for power, now. And the sword...I don't know where it is now, but it is bad for Ashagga."

Yichimet looked around. The Spirits had calmed some. He wished he could make Syreena see them. They still yelled in words he could not understand. So much here he could not understand.

[Keeper Of Lore]

Syreena's gaze followed Ashagga's to Muatah, searching for answers there as she listened to Yichimet. At the mention of her own haunting, she absently lifted a hand to her side. Ashagga had many voices in her head, Yichimet had said, all fighting for power. The other voices and Warneshi. Maybe....

"Maybe the Tyrant is trying to help her with the other voices," Syreena pleaded, ever reluctant to accept that someone she cared about could do such serious wrong. "Maybe it was the other voices who want to kill you--not Shaggy. She wouldn't do that."

[Keeper Of Lore]

Ashagga glared at Yichimet. She couldn't help herself. He was misrepresenting her... and she could not speak in her own defense! She did not want to hurt Yichimet... she had said as much, and taken pains to avoid doing so. And her threats had come only after his own toward her!

Hopefully, the wise Tauren would give her a chance to speak. If not... she might have to flee, and that would be unpleasant at best.

[Keeper Of Lore]

Yichimet looked from Ashagga to Syreena to Muatah and back to Ashagga, catching the wounded eyes she gave him. Was he right? What was going on here? Did the wailing of the Spirits keep him deaf to other things? Ashagga was his friend, a sister like only Syreena and Chavie had been, and he had her tied up. No wonder the look on her face, yelling Why are you doing this to me?

"Syreena, I only know she pulled her blades on me. I don't know what is in her head. I should have helped her long ago get rid of them, as I should have helped you. I don't know why Warneshi's Spirit is here. There are many things I don't understand, but I do know that the air is full of screaming Spirits, and Ashagga's voice is not her own."

"Ashagga, why did you pull your blades on me? What is going on inside your head? Why are you speaking in another voice?" Muatah grunted as if a bad taste entered his mouth, and Yichimet knew he was displeased with this, but something had to be done.

[Keeper Of Lore]

Ashagga sighed, relieved. Yichimet was wise. She should have trusted that he would do the right thing.

"I pulled my blades on you because you came here and refused to listen to me when I explained myself. You were threatening. I do not want to fight you, or hurt you, or gods forbid kill you. I WILL not surrender Sul'thraze... it is the last link to Warneshi, and I owe him more than that. Moreover, it is, as Syreena suggested, helping me to control and fight the others."

She took a deep breath, looking nervously at Muatah. "My voice is different because I am different. I have grown, in no small part because of what I have done or not done at your request. I have changed. I have grown. I have become more than what I was. And yet, I am still Grim. At the heart of me, I am still Ashagga Wolfskin. I have inherited a Sandfury legacy. I have earned Mannoroth's curse. I have become a host for the Forsaken. I have become a hive of spirits. But I am still Ashagga Wolfskin, daughter of Biggon, scion of the Stormhunter Clan. I was born in Lordamere, raised in Orgrimmar."

She gulped in a breath and stopped when Muatah scowled. She fell silent. She had answered the shaman's questions, and she was allowed no more.

[Keeper Of Lore]

As Chingaso scaled the sheer side of the needle to which he had tracked Yichimet and Ashagga, Chingaso noticed the presence of Syreena and Muatah as well. How was it that he was approaching uncontested by Azeroth's mightiest hunter?

Chingaso pulled himself up over the side of the bluff and surveyed the situation. Ashagga looking defiant. Yichimet looking concerned but in control. Syreena looking as lost as Chingaso had ever seen. And Muatah, with an arrow nocked and pointed at Ashagga...

[Keeper Of Lore]

"A hive of spirits..." Yichimet muttered, trailing off. He looked up to the Moon, praying for the right path. I don't think she sees what is in the air around her, Yichimet thought. She sees only what is inside her now.

He allowed the fire around Ashagga to die down and walked over to her. Muatah's arrow was still tipped at her heart. Yichimet put a hand on her cheek, so big it curled around her skull, cupping her head.

"What does the Tyrant say to you, sister?"

[Keeper Of Lore]

Ashagga swallowed nervously, Yichimet's furred hand nearly swallowing her head. She knew he could release the energy of the earth at any moment, and, this close, it might well kill her.

"Warneshi guides me. He is helping me to fight the others in my head, to keep them from taking me over. Occasionally he makes demands... I grew angry with Lovely when she entered Zul'Farrak, for example... but they are never large, nor lasting. He wants me to keep the blade, but I do not wish to use it. He wants me to slay things... demons, presumably those that challenge his power, the Qiraji, the Scourge... nothing that conflicts with the Grim."

Her eye flicked to the edge of the bluff, noting Chingaso. Mighty hunter... he'd climbed the whole way. Surely, Muatah had noticed him already. Please, Chingaso, don't do anything rash.