Simple Musings

[ryborun]

Ryborun sat on the peaceful shores of Lake Elune'era, seeking to find understanding in the events that had helped to shape him. He couldn't bring himself to slip into the Emerald Dream to seek understanding, as the peace of Ysera seemed to be fracturing, a dark presence invading the lush green realm. Lying back, staring at Mu'sha (whom the elves called Elune), the left eye of the Earthmother as she chases her brother An'she across the sky, he allowed his mind to wander........

.......to a time of simple joys, the peaceful days of youth. He sees a young tauren, full of joy at the simple pleasures that the Earthmother provided, running over the plains of Mulgore with his clan brother and sisters of the Swiftwind tribe. Even at a young age, Ryborun showed a natural affinity to speak with the winds, and learn wisdom from them. Many assumed that he would follow the path of the shaman, as did he. The old shaman Sordokar had agreed to accept him as an apprentice, and Ryborun was almost of an age to begin his training.....

........fires ravaged the grassy plains of his home, as the dwarven invaders, greedily seeking the metals and minerals they so coveted, rampaged through the village, killing all who stood against them, as well as those who offered no resistance. A sword held clumsily in his hand, Ryborun attempted to defend himself from a dwarf whose eyes shown with the fanatical gleam of a holy light in his eyes. The dwarf, raising his axe above his head and howling in his barbaric tonque, brought the axe down in a blow that should have killed the young tauren. Collapsing in a heap, the young tauren did not die, but laid there, unable to do anything as the sounds of the dying were forever etched into the recesses of his soul. Later, when the dwarves had finished their business, and left the village, a savage beast, once a young tauren, fled the town for the relative safety of darkness, the tears of the Earthmother falling on the remains of youth and happiness, as well as a smoldering village.....

(I'll add more over the next few days, can't stay awake any longer now!)

[ryborun]

A rustle in the grass disturbs Ryborun's musings. Looking around, he sees a small squirrel sitting next to him, with a quizzical look on it's simple face, as if it could read his thoughts.

"Little friend" addressing the squirrel in a softer voice than most of the clan would ever hear him use, "there are indeed times when I feel more at ease with the simple creatures of the Earthmother that I do with the more sentient creatures she has created." The squirrel chitters back, and Ryborun chuckles at the demand for food. Reaching into his pack, he throws a small piece of Mulgore bread to the squirrel. "It is all I have at this time." The squirrel chitters happily, eagerly eating the bounty laid before him. Ryborun's smile fades, as he remembers back to the time when he was scarcely more intelligent than the squirrel he now shares the peaceful lakeside with.....

......roaming the fringes of the plains of Mulgore, scarcely less savage than prairie wolves that he competed with for the rocs and other wildlife found on the plains. His fur was matted from long years of detritus that he had slept in. He bathed only as necessary, to keep his scent from alerting the other animals of the plains of his presence. Physically, he had grown to manhood, but spiritually, he had atrophied. He no longer sensed the spirits of the wind when they tried to whisper to him, no longer cared about the beauty of the Earthmother's creation. His eyes glowed red, with a feral bloodlust that could not be tamed. He lived to eat, but even more, he lived to kill, especially the hated dwarves.

The dwarves had come in greater numbers to Mulgore, and established a camp. From this camp, they began to mine the precious minerals that they so coveted. Ryborun did his best to keep the population in control, finding the taste of the entrails of dwarves the sweetest meat known.

He awoke that day as the first light of An'she shown down upon the world. His hunger was gnawing at him, and he knew that he would need to eat today. Sniffing the air, he could sense that a patrol of the accursed dwarves was near. Lowering himself to all fours, creeping through the gorse that surrounded the dwarven camp, his ears picked up the tramping of dwarven feet, along with a sound that he hadn't heard for years, the sound of the shu'halo tongue. Roaring out a bellow, he raced on all fours towards the dwarves. An innate sense remember the tauren stomp, which he used with great effectiveness to stun the well armed dwarves. Bashing the head of one dwarf into the ground, smearing grey matter over the dewy grass, he had one dwarf down before the other two could recover. The second recovered, and rushed at him with its axe raised on high. Ryborun absorbed the blow of the axe, roaring his pain to the sky as the axe bit deep. Wrenching the dwarf from its feet, he hurled it into the nearest tree, the sound of cracking ribs signalling the end for the hapless dwarf.

The third dwarf, hoping to save its cowardly hide, tried to use the captive shu'halo child as a shield against the enraged tauren. It babble pathetically in its barbaric tongue, holding its weapon at the throat of the young tauren, who was not allowing fear to overcome her.

Tearing the axe from his back, holding it as a cudgel, Ryborun charged the dwarf, who threw the young cow aside, and tried to run for its life. Before it could raise the alarm to the rest of the camp, Ryborun drove the blunt edge of the axe into the skull of the rotten creature, driving its eyes from its head in its final death throes.

Hearing the sobbing of the young cow, Ryborun turns toward her, gore dripping from his muzzle. The rays of An'she shone down through the clouds, bedazzling him with their brilliance. A rush of warmth flooded his being, and skills long dormant began their slow return to the conscious mind. Looking at the young cow, a glimmer of intelligence returns to his eyes, and he says simply "I am Ryborun."