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|Author:||Eoin [ Mon Feb 28, 2011 7:51 pm ]|
|Post subject:||Raeru's story|
I suppose it was just the way the adults talked about Argus that made me happy I was born on Draenor. Compared to my world of forests and the rolling plains of Nagrand where I played, it seemed very grim telling. The adults kept a lot of it from me. To be fair, I don't think I would have understood it if they'd told me anyway.
Perhaps I should back up a bit. My name is Raeru Maesha'tar and I'm a draenei. I was born on Draenor 72 years ago and spent most of my childhood around Shattrath City and in the Terokkar Forest when I wasn't following my older sister into Nagrand to hunt. I hear from the elders that there was a time we didn't really do hunting, or had grown out of it. But on Draenor, the need for hunters returned and we learned from the orcs how do do it right.
I loved hunting, and fishing. I was always slipping away from my parents to follow my sister and hold her pack or fishing tackle. I would spend every waking hour outside with the grass under my hooves and the wind in my face. My father was a priest and my mother was a paladin, they both had very high hopes of me and my sister following their hoofprints when we grew out of this call of the wild nonsense.
I knew that was never for me. I hear the voices of the wild, in my heart. Perhaps I could have put aside hunting to be a shaman, but not to follow the Light. No more than I did as a draenei anyway. Don't get me wrong, I love the Light, but it's not the calling of my heart as they say.
To me, as a child, Draenor was eternal, it was everything. I didn't care about Argus all that much, and I wasn't aware of outside matters.
Until I heard the scream.
It was like it was in the earth itself, in the wind. I clapped my hands over my ears and screamed myself, but no matter how I stuffed them, I could still hear it and it went on and on and on. I remember seeing my clothes staining blue from my nose bleed and I remember my sister coming running over to me and grabbing me up and just running like there was a wildfire.
I don't remember getting home, I barely remember the chaos that happened next. I do remember us children being loaded onto vehicles and I remember Velen telling us to remain calm and that we would be safe. My sister, Karajen, was with me. She couldn't leave me, I was screaming and crying out and kept bleeding from my nose and eyes and ears.
I'm not sure how long I was like that, I know it was a long time. I was tended to by priests and my only comfort was my sister's nearness. I never saw my parents again. Karajen doesn't talk about it much but we are both sure that they are dead.
I was still ill and mind fevered when we came to the Exodar. I remember the terrible noise and chaos as the floors threw us up and the walls split and the crystal shards crushed people into seeping blue pools before my sister managed to get me into a pod. The last thing I saw there was her face as she kissed my forehead and then slammed the lid down.
Waking up on Azeroth was like a rebirth. My pod was buried for a while, but that gave my mind time to heal, surrounded by good, solid land, a world a little battered, but still whole. I was dug out by some technicians and spent a few days recovering from the prolonged stay in the pod.
I wasn't born for the exodus from Argus. I wonder if the same sadness and destitute feeling was around then. I felt terrible, Shattrath City was gone, my beautiful forest was gone, my favourite fishing spots. At first I couldn't even find my sister. I tried not to cry, but I know I did a few times. I couldn't find her name on the known fatalities list and nor did I find her at the first camp. It's a terrible feeling to think you might be alone of your family.
I eventually received word that my aunt, a paladin of the Hand of Argus, was alive and had gone with some others to aid some allies or whatever. That wasn't good enough for me, I wanted my sister. I ignored the adults who kept insisting I be escorted to the Exodar and taken into care. I wasn't an adult, it was true, but I wasn't a little fawn either. I'm sure humans have a similar time, when you're grown up but nobody calls you an adult because you haven't met some fictitious criteria. Anyway, that's where I was. Not an adult and not a child. So I did the only thing I could think of.
I kicked the fussy paladin in the shin and ran away into the forest. It didn't take me long to get fantastically lost and I was nearly mauled to death by a beautiful nightsaber before I convinced it I was a much tougher handful than it had expected and quite frankly, it should count itself lucky I didn't tear its throat out (that is the best way to convince cats). With this new friend at my side, I filched a crossbow and argued blue thunder with anyone who said I had to go hide in the Exodar with the other children.
I got in trouble a few times, but I think Velen interjected at one point. I think that's what happened, because the remaining Hand of Argus protectors finally stopped nagging me and let me ply my craft as a hunter. They needed the food, frankly. It was through them that word reached me of my sister.
She had gone to a distant city called Stormwind, where she was helping the delegation there as we joined something called the Alliance. It sounded promising and I shamelessly begged and pleaded to be excused the innumerate make-work tasks the Hand were giving me to keep me "out of trouble". I was finally given permission and went to Stormwind.
I'll spare you the sentimental details of my reunion with my sister. She explained our need for allies and I agreed and set myself to work for the Alliance. It amused me that at 72 they considered me quite grown up and didn't seem to notice I was short (for a draenei I guess), freckled and a bit reckless. It was nice to be taken on my own terms. I was also suddenly without someone insisting I be here or be there, and I confess it went to my head. I was suddenly consumed with the need to see everything.
The lands of Azeroth called to me, and I trod the secret paths and the great highways. I climbed tall mountains and waded through swamps. I saw the Horde capitals and marvelled at variety of the world. I ran from creatures willing and eager to eat my head and came to understand the calling of my heart.
My animals, my pack, my herd, my hive.
I heard the call of Sabre, my oldest and truest companion, from the forests of Elwynn. I heard the call of Celestus, my beautiful dragonhawk from the heights of Silvermoon. I heard Fidget, and Laetatio, and Skippity and Munchie and Rama. I travelled leagues to find these calls and cement the bonds that would save my life over and over again. With these truest of friends at my side, I do not know fear, and I will never be abandoned by them. Only death will part us, but when our friends are this close to our hearts, they never really leave.
That's a fact.
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