Post by jayoba on Oct 20, 2006 0:11:58 GMT -5
The sound of crashing waves and the gentle fall of water all about him did little to ease Jayoba's mind. Perched on the high cliffs of his jagged home, he watched the misty land before him unfurl, his mind seeking some escape, any escape. At length he peered uneasily down into his hands, cradling a long troll's tusk. Hate and rage filled his thoughts, he felt about him the dark radations of spite, every hair, every patch of blood-encrusted skin smelt of contempt for this Troll he had killed. Jayoba wrenched his darkened face from the macabre token, and peered once more over the land he had called home for so long, the limitless cruelty and harshness of Stranglethorn Vale.
*****
His mind raced back through the happenings of a week past, when he had sent Rizin into the jungle that held her greatest fears, to a night he had spent talking with her, attempting as hard as his simple mind could, to convince her that fear was not to be shied away from, but to be accepted and controlled. Jayoba poured his memory over the question that she had asked him, and though he could not fully remember it, he rememberd all-too-well where it had led.
It had led him back to Zul'Kunda, the place he was whelped in, the place he had fled so long ago, and had feared to return to. He felt the hate and anguish of every Bloodscalp Troll he felled as the pair entered the city. He watched over and over, the look on a face not unlike his own, terrible, cruel, and confused, as he smashed bones, riped flesh, and tore souls from thier mortal coils. And he felt keenly his self-doubt and hollow anger as the pair fought thier way onto the central dias of the city. Jayoba did not know what had driven them there, but both he and Rizin would not stop, until they saw, gathered in a small ring, several Trolls chanting and praising one grand figure who stood in the center.
Jayoba heard only faintly Rizin's confession that the Troll in the center had been one of those who had captured her. He knew the man. Nazzliok the Dire. Jayoba could never forget the man who had sent him to sacrifice a young woman to Hakkar, he would never forget the menacing and arrogant snarl that constantly graced his menacing visage. He replied to a question he had not even heard from Rizin, stating that Nezzliok must die. The young girl was startled, and frightened, Jayoba could smell her fear, a tantilizing sent he had once longed for, which now brought bile to his mouth.
Jayoba crouched low, and stalked his way through sparse brush and undergrowth to a position behind the circle, noting Rizin's clumsy, yet determined footsteps. He watched silently from his hiding spot the group, facing towards the throne on which the new chief of the Bloodscalps sat.
"Chu take de mon in de middle, but don' kill 'im, ah take care a' de ones around 'im." Jayoba hissed at Rizin, choking out the words. She nodded, stating that she wanted Nezzliok to remember her, and remember what he did to her.
With a silent nod, Jayoba burst from the brush, slamming his mace into the side of a sitting troll's head, blasting out the fool's brains. He spun and broke ribs, kicked out, ripped and tore, slashed and growled.
"Do you remember me?" Rizin taunted Nezzliok as she dodged and parried his blows. "Do you remember what you did to me?" Nezzliok snarled and hissed a short curse before partially turning his attention to Jayoba, who had made short and messy work of the guards. Jayoba turned dark, hatefull eyes on Nezzliok, who's eye's opened wide as Jayoba's pig-faced mace slammed into Nezzliok's chest. The last words Nezzliok heard were the most d**ning words Jayoba had ever uttered. They showed his failure, showed his blind hate and rage, showed his greatest sin.
"Honnah Fidong."
"Goodbye, Father."
*****
Jayoba screamed in rage, throwing his head back and cursing his family, his people, himself, he looked up at the moon, who's pure silver gleam mocked him, and mocked his transgressions. He cursed the perfection of the moon, cursed the glimmering lights of the stars, and cursed the cold, lonely abyss of the night.
*****
His mind raced back through the happenings of a week past, when he had sent Rizin into the jungle that held her greatest fears, to a night he had spent talking with her, attempting as hard as his simple mind could, to convince her that fear was not to be shied away from, but to be accepted and controlled. Jayoba poured his memory over the question that she had asked him, and though he could not fully remember it, he rememberd all-too-well where it had led.
It had led him back to Zul'Kunda, the place he was whelped in, the place he had fled so long ago, and had feared to return to. He felt the hate and anguish of every Bloodscalp Troll he felled as the pair entered the city. He watched over and over, the look on a face not unlike his own, terrible, cruel, and confused, as he smashed bones, riped flesh, and tore souls from thier mortal coils. And he felt keenly his self-doubt and hollow anger as the pair fought thier way onto the central dias of the city. Jayoba did not know what had driven them there, but both he and Rizin would not stop, until they saw, gathered in a small ring, several Trolls chanting and praising one grand figure who stood in the center.
Jayoba heard only faintly Rizin's confession that the Troll in the center had been one of those who had captured her. He knew the man. Nazzliok the Dire. Jayoba could never forget the man who had sent him to sacrifice a young woman to Hakkar, he would never forget the menacing and arrogant snarl that constantly graced his menacing visage. He replied to a question he had not even heard from Rizin, stating that Nezzliok must die. The young girl was startled, and frightened, Jayoba could smell her fear, a tantilizing sent he had once longed for, which now brought bile to his mouth.
Jayoba crouched low, and stalked his way through sparse brush and undergrowth to a position behind the circle, noting Rizin's clumsy, yet determined footsteps. He watched silently from his hiding spot the group, facing towards the throne on which the new chief of the Bloodscalps sat.
"Chu take de mon in de middle, but don' kill 'im, ah take care a' de ones around 'im." Jayoba hissed at Rizin, choking out the words. She nodded, stating that she wanted Nezzliok to remember her, and remember what he did to her.
With a silent nod, Jayoba burst from the brush, slamming his mace into the side of a sitting troll's head, blasting out the fool's brains. He spun and broke ribs, kicked out, ripped and tore, slashed and growled.
"Do you remember me?" Rizin taunted Nezzliok as she dodged and parried his blows. "Do you remember what you did to me?" Nezzliok snarled and hissed a short curse before partially turning his attention to Jayoba, who had made short and messy work of the guards. Jayoba turned dark, hatefull eyes on Nezzliok, who's eye's opened wide as Jayoba's pig-faced mace slammed into Nezzliok's chest. The last words Nezzliok heard were the most d**ning words Jayoba had ever uttered. They showed his failure, showed his blind hate and rage, showed his greatest sin.
"Honnah Fidong."
"Goodbye, Father."
*****
Jayoba screamed in rage, throwing his head back and cursing his family, his people, himself, he looked up at the moon, who's pure silver gleam mocked him, and mocked his transgressions. He cursed the perfection of the moon, cursed the glimmering lights of the stars, and cursed the cold, lonely abyss of the night.