The Young Lilliana
Lilliana - January 16, 2008
Lilliana took a deep breath and experienced what felt like her
entire world in a single breath of air. As she exhaled, her dark
eyes were resting on the figure beside her, a mirror image of
herself, although much older than she. The pair smiled at one
another briefly, then Lilliana gazed away once again, and
listened...
The sounds of the forest were like music playing gently, drifting
somberly through the trees on a bit of wind. The moon brought dim
light to the forest below, sparsely bringing some reason to the
darkness that lingered beneath the quiet world.
This peaceful forest was known as the forest of Savane, long home
to the tall elvish creatures which were once immortal. Not so
mortal now, for the cooling body of a young female rested amongst
the dried leaves and small blades of grass that littered the
forest floor. Beside her once perfect body two figures crouched,
each with a full head of red, fiery hair.
The two, Lilliana and the older woman, were trolls. A mother and
daughter pair which traveled through the lands without fear, nor
without consideration to those that would encounter their path.
The dead night elf that still bled fresh at their taloned feet
was solid proof of that, for she was young and had little chance
against the older troll, a shaman who was well on in her years,
and very experienced in the bloody path of battle. Lilliana was
not as experienced as her older mother. She was young and fresh
with eyes that had not yet seen pain and horror unless it was
carried out in others by her hand.
“What are you doing, my silly little priest?” The shaman’s rough
voice broke the gentle tranquility of the night, the harsh tones
of her well put speech were like a nail scraping relentlessly
across a board. Although she spoke without the thick accent of
her kind when speaking the tongue of orcs, her voice was still
harsh and broken as if shards of glass had lodged in her thin and
delicate throat.
Lilliana winked playfully at her mother. “I’m making you a
present.” Lilly’s voice, unlike her mother’s was gentle, quiet
and smooth and went quite well with her clearly defined speech
and lack of thick accent.
“I have enough of those, little Lilly.” Her mother rose to her
feet and sniffed the air, narrowing her eyes which held so much
distaste as they scanned the forest that surrounded them.
“Bah, can’t ever have enough of these things!” Lilliana raised a
blood stained hand, and along with it, the head of the night elf,
severed at its thin, weak neck.
Lilly’s mother chuckled at her and motioned her to be still. The
shaman raised her arms to the air as if praising the heavens
above her, and called forth for the earth to birth her one totem
of power. The earth obeyed and from the dead leaves and grass
emerged a wooden protectorate that would eat a hateful spell as
hungrily as a starved prisoner would take to a freely offered
loaf of bread.
“Oh,” Lilly grinned and leaned back on one hand while dangling
the night elf’s head by its hair. Lilliana’s pointed ears were
perked and her head titled to the side as she listened carefully
for the expected approach. As the night elf’s blood ran through
her talons, the sounds of the forest disguised recent occurrence
of murder. The wind dance through the leaves, teasing and
rustling them like sprites wishing for trouble. The moon
continued to shine desperately through the canopy of trees. A
raccoon scurried up a tree.
Through the thick forest a missile of fire rocketed through
bushes and collided with the totem set sentry before Lilly and
her shaman mother. The shaman did not seem overtly concerned, and
folded her arms and tapped her foot, as if impatient.
“Come out, or I’ll fish you out!” The shaman bellowed her heated
threat into the dark night.
There was silence for a long while, so long that the young priest
put the severed head down and rose to her feet. She wiped the
blood from her hands on her robes and stared with her mother into
the darkness. She glanced at the shaman, who was forever patient
when Lilly was not. Lilly opened her mouth about to say
something, when her mother shoved her hand to her face, motioning
her to be quiet. The shaman’s other hand then rushed downward,
snagged something hidden in the bushes, and pulled out a
struggling gnome.
Lilly’s mother brought the gnome eye level and the two stared at
one another. The shaman licked her dark lips, bearing her fangs
and said, “Hello, Tranquility.”
The gnome stropped struggling and sighed, but he had the
strangest expression upon his face. An expression that should not
be held by any gnome that was in the clutches of a fierce troll.
He was smiling. Not only smiling, he looked darn right pleased
with himself.
“Hello my dear Bloodshine.” The gnome said to Lilly’s mother in
his silly, squeaky gnomish voice. “I see you two have been busy.”
He gestured to the decapitated night elf at young Lilly’s feet.
“Letting your daughter have her way again are you? Tsk tsk my
dear, haven’t we spoken about that?”
“We have spoken about it, haven’t we?” The shaman replied, giving
the corpse a reproachful look.
“Mmmhmmmm,” Tranquility waggled his short legs. “Well then,” The
little gnome folds his little arms. “Seems that everything is in
order here! Might I be let down then, Bloodshine?”
The shaman narrowed her eyes darkly at the gnome, and it looked
for a moment as if she was going to bite straight through his
face with her fangs, but the gnome was persistent and continued
with his “charming” grin. The shaman, or Bloodshine as
Tranquility had called her, cracked a grin, winked, and returned
the short gnome to the forest floor.
“Ah!” The gnome exclaimed happily. “Young Lilly, show me what you
got there!” He was pointing to the mangled night elf body.
Lilly’s gentle face filled with a dark smirk as she displayed the
corpse to Tranquility.
“There’s no more time, we have to go.” The shaman took Lilly by
her hand, and whistling into the night, calling forth her mount,
Moggn an old raptor, to their side. He arrived, glaring hatefully
at the gnome as he turned to allow Bloodshine access to his back.
Bloodshine leapt atop his strong and scaly back, then swept
Lilliana up behind her. The gnome called forth his own mechanical
mount, a strange looking thing that particularly resembled some
sick form of a raptor. “Let’s go.” The shaman said again as the
strange trio galloped into the serene night.
Lilliana whispered into her mother’s tattered ear, “Race him,
come on….” And on a swift pace they left behind the forest of
Savane, and a decapitated elf whose cooling blood still ran along
the forest floor.