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| - They began walking, the Troll now part of their party. He seemed friendly enough as he journeyed with them, but the haunting echo of long ago screams rang in Lucias head. Fires danced before her eyes and the chilling howl of large, exotic and frightening lizards ridden by grinning demons of war flooded her senses. It was indeed a strange effect that her childhood memories cast upon her. She knew nothing of this Troll but she feared and hated him on sight. As they walked, Lucia attempted to banish the sight of her best friend Leslie and the brutal Trolls and Orcs that had chased her down. Beasts had trapped and surrounded her in the barn, fully unaware of the young Lucia in the hayloft watching what they did to her. She recalled clearly the Renegades that had attacked her hometown and stolen her dearest companion away from her. Leslie died a week later, a shell of what she had been. After the barn, she had stopped eating, stopped singing to herself and stopped talking altogether. Leslie ignored Lucia entirely and she didn't get a chance to see her again, for Leslie refused any company of any sort. For a time even Lucia had stopped speaking. Her parents had worried, but they did not know that she had witnessed her friends terror. They believed she only heard about it from the townspeople. Lucia attended the funeral. The sun was shining brightly, the birds chirping merrily. Thus had her childhood had been scarred. The presence of the Troll brought it rushing back to her in one fluid motion of misery. She carried a child's fear of him, and an adult's hate. As they walked, she kept close to Kopfjagger. Her face was pale, hands gripping her robe in a magically chilled and yet sweaty grasp. Despite herself, she could not shake the feeling of the Trolls eyes burn into her back. She hoped she hid it well enough. She forced a laugh, a little twitter when she tripped on a root. She hoped it passed for a normal reaction when in the company of friends. Slather knew that the human was having great difficulty being near him. He had expected this from the beginning and it was no shock that she would not look at him. The Forsaken was tolerating him, yet the Human in between fearing and loathing. This was a challenge to overcome as far as Slather was concerned. He understood very little Gutterspeak, and even less Common, but he could read emotions like a scroll. Kopfjagger watched Slather and Lucia exchange meaningful glances at each other as they walked. If things were not complicated before, they most certainly were now. He noticed how tightly she gripped him. He heard how her voice was not quite right when she finally spoke a few words. She was not okay with this Troll, despite his helping them earlier. That was unlike Lucia. She was able to see the soul beneath the flesh but something was bothering her and he did not, as of yet, know what it was. Slather racked his brain for a good hour or so as to how he could get the Human to trust him. Thick, blue fingers traced along his tusks as he walked and thought. It was obvious that she could be open-minded, and Kopfjagger was living erm proof of that. But this still doesn't completely rule out the fact that the Humans are often a bigoted and occasionally xenophobic race. Fear can be dangerous and unpredictable. Still, Slather couldnt bring himself to blame her. Before his lifetime, nearly every Troll was a bloodthirsty killer that would wage wars against nearly everyone, including Troll against Troll. Surely, he thought, Human parents must raise their little ones by frightening their young children with tales of fearsome, bloodthirsty Trolls and Orcs. They would surely tell the children how the mean Orcs and Trolls will get them if they do not go to bed. The stories of the damage that the Horde did during the First and Second wars would put terror in the hearts and minds of young ones. And while there are some of these Trolls left out there, admittedly excluding the rot about little children and bedtimes, they are scattered and hunted down by the New Horde. "If only I could show this Human the New Horde" he mused in his Troll tongue, knowing full well that she wouldn't understand him. "Gone is our bloodlust. We have embraced our Shamanistic past, and we hold honor above nearly everything else. What is there not to like?" Bah. It is not in a Human's nature to trust. Then he looked at her hand wrapped tightly in the Forsakens. Well, he conceded, maybe he wasnt right about everything all of the time. He gave up on Lucia for the moment, and thought again of Kopfjagger. There was little chance he would be welcomed back into ranks of the Forsaken, he surmised. He could go back to Orgrimmar, and start a new life there. It was beautiful, in a primal sort of way, or at least Slather had always thought of it so. If only it weren't so busy all of the time. The empty flats in the Cleft of Shadow may suit the Rogue in him rather well. Snapping back into reality, Slather heard the sound of boots running up the path behind him. An alarmed whisper soon followed. Then nothing. He paused for a moment and looked over his shoulder, but saw nothing. That meant little truthfully. The bounty ensured that they were hunted not only by the Alliance, but also by a great number of Forsaken as well as the other Horde races. Slather turned to the Undead and warned in a hushed voice, "Be on your Guard, Kopfjagger. I believe we are not alone on this trail." Long they walked with everyone lost in their own thoughts. It was not until they were near the river and the border of Darkshire that Slather first heard the sounds of nearby.... enemies? His warning gave the rogue enough time to free his hand from Lucias grasp and pull out his blades. A quick glance around to get his bearings and Kopfjagger had a plan formed. Humans came off of the trail with a war cry, rushing down upon the strange party of Troll, Forsaken and Human. Kopfjagger did not yet trust the Slather fully with Lucia.... and he surmised that Lucia trusted the Troll far less then him. The rogue counted four, six, seven humans running down the small hill towards them. The river that was the border to Darkshire was within twenty paces. Kopfjagger could not shed the blood of humans so close to Lucia's home. They were less than an hours walk from Goldshire now and it was too close to lose it all now. There was hope, however. Turning to Lucia, he stuck his blade tips in the dirt, hilts only inches from his hands. He held onto her shoulders and looked straight into her eyes. The intensity of his emotion was plain. "My heart, you must go into the water and swim to the other shore. Do not look back. Wait for ten minutes." The war cries were getting louder and closer. It was probably a good thing that he could not understand what they were saying. "If I am not there," he continued hurriedly, "your home is nearly due north from the other side of the river." "Go!" He yelled when she did not move. Then, he pulled is blades out of the dirt and held them in a loose, comfortable grip. "Troll," he called out. "There will be no killing today. Slow them any way you can." A handful of powder was thrown into the air and the Head Hunter was gone. Kopfjagger began to slink towards the flank of the humans. They were very close now. All he had to do was slow them long enough for Lucia to get into the water safely. Today was a sorry day to die. ((This part of the story was written in partnership by Kopfjagger and Lucia. I have the honor of retelling it but at least half, if not more, of the creative power comes directly from Lucia even though her name does not appear to the left of the post. *bows deeply to Lucia* Thank you, Lucia, for letting me retell our story, I hope to do it justice.))
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