Iwilo: Bloodlust
It had been a short but bloody battle, the horde having defended Orgrimmar against the incoming alliance siege with very few casualties amongst their own. The Alliance forces had withdrawn themselves after just over two hours; fleeing through a portal summoned by a group of mages that had flanked the massive army.
Their own swords had proven, in the end, to be ineffectual against those carried by the vicious outpouring of axe and sword-wielding orcs, towering but lithe trolls, and the few tauren who'd happened to be in the area at the time of the attack to lend a hand or hoove.
Many an orc would later sneer that the haughty (but beautiful) blood elves had been absent for the fight. They presumably rested in their lofty towers, bathed in magickal light as they drank the finest wine in their flowing robes. I'wilo didn't begrudge the elves their glowingly garish city, as he was allowed to walk through it as he pleased (Ignoring, of course, the barely concealed whispers and cutting glances of most of the elves.) and often spent the evening in the company of one or more of its lovely women.
The undead were also absent from Orgimmar, though I'wilo didn't miss their presence in the least. He spit on the ground at the thought of the scourged creatures, off plotting and summoning demons no doubt.
The Alliance had put far too much stock in their assumption that a sneak-attack on the orc capital city would catch the enemy unarmed. Given the night elfs' preference for fighting in the dark, it was an unusual sight to find them charging in the late afternoon, the sun still very high.
True, the Horde had been unaware of the oncoming army until the enemy had been less than a mile outside of their gates. The mages, whose combined efforts had been used to summon the escape-portal at the end of the fight, had spent much of their energy on a spell that had shielded the alliance army from view, rendering them invisible as they'd made their way across Kalimdor.
Unfortunately for the Alliance, said spell had significantly drained the mages, making them all but useless in the battle. The mages had stayed far back, shielding their own presence right up until the portal was required. Still, they'd served their purpose for the attack, as futile as the battle had been.
I'wilo himself had been one of the first to join in the fray. He'd just finished a good day of hunting, and gathering the occasional rare herb. "Flowah picken" and selling meats and hides were his sorce of income. He'd been unloading his wares at the market when the alarm had been risen.
Slinging his quiver over one shoulder, he'd grabbed his ornately carven bow (For he was admittedly quite vain. The bow was gorgeous and earned many sneers and chuckles from the other men who saw it, the orcs in particular), and he'd dashed through the gates. He took up a position off to the side, to allow for the impressive wave of fighters to pass. When the first swords and axes struck against the Alliance shields, I'wilo had already sunk a good dozen arrows into the enemy.
The troll had gone through his arrows quickly, having used many of them to hunt over the past week. He'd not taken the time to replenish his store. Once the arrows were spent, he'd placed his bow aside without hesitation and unslung his axe.
It was a small weapon, a tiny throwing hatchet in comparison with the great weapons carried by his Horde brethren. Still, I'wilo and his one-handed axe had proven a worthy foe for any that managed to squeeze through the front lines. He'd worked silently for the first hour, slicing off whatever part of the enemy that came within his reach. Despite the fact that he was taller and heavier than any of the other trolls present, he'd managed to always dance nimbly out of the way of the enemy's desperate attacks.
Without a mark on him; his own sweat mixed with smears and splotches of blood not his own, I'wilo had tirelessly aided the defending Horde as they had pushed the Alliance invaders further and further back into the desert from whence they'd come.
A tall night elf man fell to a huge, brown-skinned orc's tremendous sword. As the elf's armor-obscured mouth had stretched in a battle cry, the orc had answered with a cry of his own , removing the elf's head with one swipe of the blade.
The corpse, apparently unaware that its fighting days had come to a definite end, stood before the gore-spattered orc. Its neck sprayed blood upward, showering the orc and I'wilo - who stood nearby - in bright crimson.
The orc kicked the corpse in the chest, knocking it down and trampling over it as one of its arms trembled spastically and finally dropped the sword the elf had been holding.
I'wilo lifted his lip in a snarl, the enemy blood painting even his long white teeth as he turned to retrieve the still - rolling head. Lifting the elf's head in one hand, I'wilo yanked off the helm and tossed it aside. He lifted the sightlessly staring head by its long indigo hair and held it at eye - level. The way the elf's shining blue hair sparkled cleanly in the bright sunlight, amidst all of the red gore and grey metal weaponry, somehow struck I'wilo as humorous and he finally broke his silence to bellow laughter into the dead elf's face.
With a bestial grunt, he dropped his tiny axe aside and drew forth the deadly-sharp dagger he wore on his left hip. Licking the blood from his teeth absently, he quickly removed one long, pointed ear from the skull and dropped it into his empty quiver. All of this had happened in the space of seconds and when the next enemy rushed up to greet I'wilo, he thrust aside the mutilated skull and met the human with his axe.
I'wilo dropped to a crouch, leg outstretched and swept the man's feet aside gracefully. The human cried out in surprise as he fell with a thud. Before the warrior could get up, the troll had yanked off his helm and planted the axe squarely in his skull, the handle jutting out from between his eyes.
The last thing the man saw was the fearsome countenance of the raging troll, teeth bared viciously, thick tongue snaking out to lick some blood from the troll's full bottom lip. Bright red eyes with pinpoint pupils had held his gaze as the troll's laughter had rang full in his ears. And then, merciful darkness.
I'wilo leapt, snarling, onto the next Alliance warrior, and the next. He flung his massive weight at the humans, night elves, and draenei as they desperately tried to fight their way though the brutal army. Enemies went sprawling with missing and dangling parts, deep and gushing axe wounds... One man's nose was bitten off. I'wilo was consumed with bloodlust. And woe to any who fell within his sight. Even the other Horde seemed to steer clear of him for the remainder of the battle. I'wilo didn't seem to notice. He growled and snarled and laughed as he dismembered any and all that he leapt upon, for they seemed to have stopped attacking him.
After the last of the surviving Alliance army had fled through their conjured portals, the mages drawing said portal shut as they stepped through it, to avoid being followed, the cries of the injured didn't last long. Nobody complained as several wailing human survivors were dragged south toward the troll village of Sen'jin. The Alliance had bought their fate when they'd attacked their city. Let the Darkspear have their fun, as distasteful as the others found it. Let them make their decorations.
The rest of the army immediately began to remove whatever armor and weapons the enemy corpses had. The stripped corpses were then loaded onto carts and taken off to be burned before they could start stinking. A few heads were jammed down on pikes outside of the gates, to mark the Horde's victory.
I'wilo made no move to help salvage armors and weapons. He stood, panting, staring into the desert. He'd torn his shirt away at some point and the spider he'd tattooed deep in the flesh of his chest was all but obscured by the blood that painted his chest, arms, and face. His eyes shone red in the dying sunlight as he stared out across the desert beyond the blood-stained sand. A cool breeze kicked up and he stretched to his full height, throwing his head back and pointing his tusks skyward as the wind ruffled his long, russet-colored mohawk. His hair, more headfur than hair really, was naturally bright silvery white but the young troll often dyed it bright colors.
As the wind died down, he lowered his head and tilted it quizzically as he caught some movement off to the side, behind a strand of thick cacti. Eyes narrowing suspiciously, I'wilo lifted his axe and walked around the cacti, giving them a wide berth in case another Alliance warrior were there, poised for attack, as unlikely as that was.
His eyes widened and his lip lifted in a cocky sneer as he beheld the bound and struggling draenei warrior. His size, while impressive, was very small for a draenei. He couldn't have been much taller than seven feet or weighed more than two hundred pounds. Someone, presumably a few orcs or trolls, as I'wilo couldn't imagine the tauren getting up to such devilry, had left him here unguarded.
He'd been stripped of his armor and weapons, left only in a light tunic and linen pants, and bound tightly, hooves bend back to nearly meet his hands. His back was arched uncomfortably and his blue-grey skin shone with sweat as he tried to wriggle free from his bonds. So engrossed was he, in his efforts, that he failed to notice the troll staring at him.
I'wilo circled around the struggling draenei silently. His bow and quiver were strapped to his back, the small axe at his right hip, the dagger hanging from his left. He scratched his chin with the two blood - sticky fingers of his left hand before letting it dangle at his side.
The draenei finally happened to lift his head and he froze, panting as he stared back at the troll.
The troll's skin, where it wasn't covered in brown, drying blood, was of a bluish - green hue. A sprawling tattoo of a black spider covered the creature's bare chest. Even in the dimming light, he could see that the tattoo was raised. It had been carved deeply.
A long, leather cord adorned the troll's thick neck, and various carven bones, claws and teeth dangled over his chest. His leather pants ended at thick calves and his ankles were protected by bracers. His huge, two - toed feet were bare and the big square nail on each toe was black.
A tall mohawk jutted straight up between long pointed ears. The troll flexed his jaw and his upper right lip twitched slightly, but he remained perfectly still, otherwise. He noted the axe and dagger and the top of a bow that peeked out from beyond the troll's shoulder with much dismay.
The draenei's mind was reeling. His head still ached from where he'd fallen and struck it on a rock at the very beginning of the battle. He was sure that his end had come. What remained to be seen was by which method the savage brute would dispatch him. It was a bigger troll than he'd ever seen, and he wondered if the orcs that had stolen his weapon and armor had left him there as some sort of offering.
I'wilo stood there for several minutes, letting the draenei inspect him as he watched with amusement. The draenei didn't move at first; glowing blue eyes showing brightly from a face that betrayed no emotion. Finally, I'wilo took a slow step forward, his eyes never leaving the smaller man's.
The tip of the draenei's thick armored tail began to twitch madly at his approach, and I'wilo barely suppressed a chuckle as he took another step closer. As he closed the distance between them, the draenei finally began to struggle again, his eyes widening as he stared back at the troll. I'wilo squatted in front of the draenei and tilted his head, placing one hand on the ground as he leaned close and grinned menacingly. He licked his lips and said quietly, "Well, whaht have weh heah?" The draenei swallowed and tried to speak but only a short, bleating bark managed to emit from his throat and I'wilo met the sound with a dark chuckle.
The tail lashed about more violently as I'wilo reached out and patted the man on the shoulder. "Beh raht bahk. Don't ya move." He shook his head and laughed again as he turned and made his way back into the city to retrieve his mount.
The draenei renewed his efforts to struggle out of the bonds, as futile as he knew them to be. His race was a proud one, but any sense of pride was lost in the abject terror that threatened to seize him. The troll would be back, he knew, and he didn't want to be there when he returned with whatever twisted plan he had devised. He grunted and moaned as he rolled in the sand, the ropes cutting painfully into his wrists and ankles. His hands and hooves were going numb from the tightness of his bonds and he cried out in frustration as he fought to untie himself.
I'wilo nodded at the dozen or so orc guards that had been placed at the city gates. They merely stared at the half-naked, blood drenched troll as he led his saddled raptor out of the city. He led the raptor across the sand to where the draenei still struggled. His bonds still held but he'd managed to crawl several yards on his belly. The draenei let out a distressed moan as he caught sight of I'wilo and the reptilian beast.
Without a word, I'wilo reached out and cut the connecting rope between the draenei's hands and feet. The legs unbent and hit the ground and the draenei gasped in astonishment. His struggles ceased and he craned his neck around to look at the troll but he'd stepped out of his line of sight. Before he could start thrashing around again, the troll stepped on the back of his legs and cut the rope that held the draenei's feet together.
I'wilo grabbed the six-foot length of cut rope that had bound his feet and unravelled it, tying the end of it securely to the rope that still held the draenei's wrists, so that it served as a sort of leash. He stood aside and bent even lower than his normally hunched posture.
Straining against the draenei's considerable weight, he began to walk away, dragging his captive backward by the wrists. The draenei caught on quickly and used I'wilo's efforts to aid him in getting himself to his feet. As I'wilo turned to face the man, rope still in hand, the draenei suddenly tried to bolt.
His balance was thrown by the mild concussion he had suffered and the fact that his wrists were bound back and his legs nearly numb from being held in such a position. Still, he managed to catch I'wilo by surprise and yank him forward a few steps before he dug his heels into the ground up to the square dewclaws, causing the draenei to stop short and nearly fall over again.
I'wilo approached the prisoner slowly, hand - over - handing the rope to pick up the slack. As he reached the draenei, who hadn't made any attempt to turn around, he slapped him on the shoulder chummily, causing the male to jump. He chuckled and stepped in front of the draenei, leash still in hand. "Daht how ya peh meh bahk foah helpin ya out?", he asked quietly. His eyes shown with amusement. The draenei glared at him mutely. He hadn't expected an answer. Even if the creature'd somehow known Orcish, I'wilo was aware that he fairly mangled the language. He chose to speak in it for practice, and because he found it exotic.
The draenei, he found to be exotic, as well. With the high, armored forehead, thick tendrils protruding from the neck and strange glowing blue eyes, the others in the city would doubtlessly have found the draenei to be repugnant. I'wilo, on the other hand, embraced everything new and different. It was his nature. He wondered what he looked like to his captive and assumed he was quite fearsome to the stranger. The idea made him grin a bit.
I'wilo dropped the rope as he stared the Draenei in the eyes. Cool, glowing blue eyes studied his own red - irised ones. They met eachother's gaze for a moment and then the draenei looked down at the rope on the ground. He looked at I'wilo questioningly. I'wilo slapped his own chest and said "I'wilo." The draenei slightly shook his head. I'wilo poked the draenei in his chest and the draenei twitched but held his ground. "I'wilo", I'wilo repeated again, slapping his own chest loudly before poking the draenei again. After several dogged repetitions, the draenei finally realized what I'wilo meant by this and he said in a deep, quiet voice, "Anduraar."
I'wilo quirked an eyebrow and blinked. "Daht beh a mahwtful if ah evah hehd one... Ahndeh it is." He nodded and the draenei returned the gesture, looking around uncertainly. I'wilo turned his back slowly toward Anduraar boldly, and began checking the saddlebags and straps on his mount. Anduraar watched silently, his eyes flicking down at the discarded leash several times, but he made no attempt to run.
Grabbing the raptor by the reins, he guided it closer to Anduurar. I'wilo gave his mount a quiet command, and the animal actually lowered itself close to the ground. Troll and draenei stared at eachother again and finally Anduraar shrugged and allowed himself to be helped astride the large lizard-like beast. I'wilo threaded the leash through the bonds on Anduraar's wrists several times before winding it around a knob at the back of the saddle, presumably meant for the same, or a similar purpose.
With that, they began to make their way west, toward the area known as the Barrens and the Southfury river which separated it from the desert of Durotar. I'wilo walked briskly, the raptor slightly behind him and to the side. Anduraar's throat was dry and he felt he would fall off of the mount from the fear that choked him.
He'd known the dangers he faced as he charged into battle against the Alliance's sworn enemy, but this was a mystery... something he didn't know how to prepare for or steel himself against. He was at the mercy of this monsterous troll and it didn't look like his death would be a mercifully swift one. The trolls were notoriously cannibalistic creatures, despite the fact that the horde had supposedly outlawed such practices. He'd have struggled more, but he was dehydrated and his head still foggy and throbbing where it had met with the stone hours before.
At the swift pace I'wilo had set, they arrived at the river within a half of an hour. I'wilo stopped the mount and it lowered itself. He helped the draenei from the mount with surprising care. They had a minor scuffle when Anduraar made a halfhearted attempt to break free, and I'wilo had knocked him on his back and held his dagger to the man's throat. "Dim Ahndeh. Tah seh ahmeh skahm eh rehvah eh yuhdah ju nehjah. Dim i'sahns reh hevah weh seheeyah yuhdah dim ju deh duti'eh suh.", he growled into Anduraar's face, "Ju'uah mahleh?"
Anduraar, of course, had no idea what any of it meant, but he had the sense to stop struggling.
I'wilo relaxed instantly and his vicious scowl was replaced with a genuine - looking smile as he patted "Ahndeh" on the cheek. Obviously the troll was completely mad, Anduraar thought. He slipped the dagger back into his belt as he stood, reaching to help Anduraar back to his feet. He then tied the rope around the base of a small tree before turning , dropping his weapon belt to the shore. I'wilo leapt into the river, disappearing beneath the surface with a great splash.
The sun had set by now, and the water appeared blue-black. The light of the rising moon reflected off of the rippling water and painted wavering silver stripes across the river's surface. He could see no sign of the troll. Anduraar held his breath as he stared at the water.
He jumped as the troll finally broke the surface, his mohawk weighed down by the water and pasted down his head and neck. He lifted double handfuls of sandy clay and began to rub his skin with it, loosening the dried blood and grime to be washed away in the current.
I'wilo hummed quietly as he cleaned himself, lifting the necklace and washing beneath it before letting it drop again to his chest. He dipped beneath the surface several times, always coming up in different places, and the draenei realized the troll was taunting him. Once he had emerged close to the shore, turned away and swam a few feet below dipping down again, and Anduraar had caught a glimps of a short, silver - white crest of fur that ran down the center of the troll's back and faded to a thin fuzz where it met the waist of his pants.
Anduraar swallowed. Despite his position, he couldn't help but yearn thirstily toward the river. He'd give anything for the chance at a drink. His thought was interrupted as I'wilo first removed his pants and threw them ashore, ducking down presumably to clean himself before he lifted one long leg and planted a giant food on the shore. He rose, nude and started toward the tree where Anduraar helplessly watched.
As if he had been reading the draenei's mind, I'wilo fished in the saddlebag and pulled forth an empty waterskin. He winked at the draenei and turned to fill it at the river. His flaccid penis swayed slightly as he walked, unabashedly nude, and crouched down to scoop clean water into the skin. Anduraar assumed the troll was going to taunt him with the water. Possibly dump it on his head or spit it in his face.
I'wilo surprised him by walking up and placing the mouth of the skin to the draenei's lips. He hesitated, staring back at I'wilo, but he was painfully thirsty. Even his eyes felt dried out. He parted his lips and allowed the troll to tilt the water down his throat. He swallowed greedily, the water better than anything he could have asked for (save maybe his freedom) at the moment.
He accidentally inhaled some and began to cough. The troll took the skin away and waited until the coughing stopped before feeding him the remainder of the water. The troll returned to the river and filled it twice again, and twice again Anduraar drained it quickly.
Anduraar was even more shocked the fourth time I'wilo went to the water, and returned with a damp cloth and began wiping at his face. He then carefully cleaned the small wound on Anduraar's temple where he'd struck the rock and knocked himself out.
He didn't return the troll's affable smile, but nodded to show his appreciation. The entire situation was becoming more and more bizarre. The troll was being something akin to civil, and if returning the favor made his end less horrible, so be it. At the very least, he could humor the creature to buy some more time and hope for a means of escape to reveal itself.
Dropping the damp cloth aside, the troll then returned to his patiently awaiting mount. He carefully removed the heavy saddle and bound up the reings to keep them from dangling. Once the reins were secure, he babble something quietly and patted the side of the fearsome creature's toothy muzzle. The raptor lumbered away and the troll busied himself with digging through his saddlebags.
The troll produced a pair of dark colored, gauzy pants and pulled them on. Over these, he strapped his weapon belt. The axe and sheathed dagger swayed at his hips as he began gathering dried out sticks that had dropped from the gnarled grey trees that dotted the shore.
He built a fire in the mid-point of the fifteen or so yards that separated the place where the draenei was tethered from the shore. That being done, the troll then picked ujp his now and reached for his quiver, only to remember that he was out of arrows.
I'wilo sighed and shrugged apologetically at the draenei, who'd begun nervously shuffling his hooves and backed away as the rope would allow as soon as he'd seen I'wilo lift the bow. Shaking his head, I'wilo turned and stalked off, muttering to himself.
As he crested a rise and marched out of sight, Anduraar began working at his bonds. He spread his palms as far as he could and pressed the rope that bound his wrists against the rough bark of the tree trunk.
He began to rub the rope up and down the trunk, but the bark crumbled away. In the places where it held, the bark wore into his palms more than it did the rope. He checked the knots again, but they were so tight that they were fairly melted together.
Cursing quietly with frustration, he tried pulling the part of the rope that surrounded the tree from side to side, but several minutes of this and the rope still held, though a light colored ring had formed around the tree where the bark was tearing away. He was rewarded for his efforts with a pile of shed bark at his feet.
Biting back a cry of rage that threatened to well up from his chest and burst from his throat, capturing the troll's attention should he be anywhere in earshot, Anduraar fell to his knees and bit into the rope that held his bonds to the tree. He began to whimper quietly as he chewed and tugged uselessly at the hitch. The rough braid began to cut his lips and he closed his eyes tightly as he tugged and bit with unrelenting determination.
I'wilo stood in the firelight, a dead rabbit dangling from each hand, wearing a bemused expression as he watched the blubbering draenei chew at his binds. So engrossed was he in his task that at first he didn't open his eyes when I'wilo said softly, "Ahndeh." I'wilo lowered himself next to the fire and laid the rabbits on the ground next to himself. "Ahndeh.", he said more loudly. Anduraar's eyes snapped open and he let out a startled cry, "Wah!". I'wilo continued calmly, "Ya kehp daht shit up ya ganna teah ya lips clean off."
The draenei remained on his knees and made a frustrated sound as he leaned forward and rested his forehead against the tree, ignoring the throb in his head. "Daht's bettah. Relax, broddah." I'wilo set to work, deftly skinning and cleaning the rabbits. Brushing some stray fur from his hands, he stood and skewered the prepared rabbits, making a brace out of some sticks and rocks, and then using this to hang the rabbits away from the flames.
After washing his hands in the river, I'wilo walked over to the dejected draenei and lowered himself to regard him evenly. The two looked at eachother silently; I'wilo with curiousity, Anduraar with glazed and hopeless eyes. "Cheah up, Ahndeh. Ah got enahf foah bot' of us." I'wilo stood and turned back to the fire, rotating the rabbits to cook them evenly. He brought over a full water skin, but Anduraar shook his head. "Ya hahv ta piss?", I'wilo asked boldly. He pursed his lips as the draenei only stared at him. Of course "Ahndeh" didn't understand him...
Anduraar's eyes widened as the troll stepped toward the river, turned sideways, and began urinating as he stood there in profile. He shook his head in disgust at the vulgar display and glared at I'wilo when he returned. The troll maintained a neutral expression as he pointed at Anduraar and tilted his head. His eyes widened again in recognition and he shook his head. But he was full of water and he was going to piss soon, whether or not he had his pants on. He nodded hesitantly, his jaw clenched angrily.
I'wilo returned the nod and drew forth his dagger. Anduraar started and leapt to his feet, running backward til he met the end of the rope with a jerk. The troll shook his head and muttered something at him, stepping forward with the menacing dagger in his right hand. He reached out with his left and caught the rope in his strong grip, close to the draenei's hands. I'wilo flipped the dagger around skillfully. He indicated the knots around his wrists with the handle of the knife. "Ya want daht teng off, don't ya? Ya gonna let meh caht it oah ya gonna fight abaht it? Mmm?"
Anduraar blinked, took a deep breath, and nodded. I'wilo gave him a measured look and then flipped the dagger again and quickly severed the bonds that surrounded the draenei's wrists. I'wilo watched Anduraar's face and Anduraar stared, dumbfounded, as the coils fell loosely to the ground. He held his hands there, as if an invisible rope still bound them. Both men stood in silence.
One of the sticks holding up the rabbits suddenly collapsed, and both of them jumped as one end of the skewer fell into the fire.
Without hesitation, the giant troll dropped his dagger back into its sheath and turned away from the confused draenei. He began to resecure the rabbits without turning around but Anduraar marked the way the troll's ears swivelled alertly and knew that he wasn't forgotten.
He ordered his legs to turn him, take him away from this insane creature while he had the chance. But he was frozen in place. He looked down again at his hands, dumbly. He slowly spread and flexed them, lifting them before his eyes before letting them fall at his sides.
Anduraar stared as I'wilo looked over his shoulder at him. "Well? Ya gonna piss oah ya gonna stahnd ahround, broddah?" The troll spoke in a questioning tone and Anduraar felt compelled to answer. He cleared his throat quietly. "I don't understand your language.", he simply stated.
I'wilo stood, turned to face him and smiled. He spread his hands and shook his head to show that he didn't understand the draenei. Anduraar startled himself with a short, barking laugh. He clapped one huge hand over his own mouth and the troll's eyebrows slowly raised, his ears flipping backward as let loose several hardy guffaws.
The troll stepped aside and gestured at the river, bowing dramatically, still laughing. Anduraar remembered his aching bladder and nodded slightly before letting his hand fall away from his mouth.
He strode toward the river numbly, his mind trying to process the surreality of the situation. The troll's laughter had subsided and it took every ounce of his willpower not to turn around and look back as he stiffly approached the river.
The moon shone full and he eyed its reflection as he relieved himself into the water. When he turned back toward the fire, he was relieved to see that the troll was removing the meat from the fire and not making ready to stab him in the back.
Anduraar stood there, trembling slightly. The troll was large but he appeared quite agile and he was certain he couldn't escape by simply running. The only feasible weapons around were sitting on the creature's hips. He had no clue what he should do.
He cursed himself silently for his lack of action. There was only one option, then. He had to charge the troll, overpower him somehow, and slay him by brute force or with his own weapons... or at least die trying.
I'wilo finished setting the meat on some tin plates and raised his eyes to meet Anduraar's. His ears swivelled forward to face him and he was smiling but his eyes were alert and piercing. Under the troll's commanding gaze, something in Anduraar worked loose and gave and he knew in his heart of hearts that he could not hope to beat the troll in hand-to-hand combat.
... And he knew that I'wilo was confident in this as well. This he took it for fact, and it was fact. Anduraar could not win. It was as though some silent communication passed between them and Anduraar was frightened by the realization that it was this that held him more tightly than his physical bonds had.
He wanted to look away but the troll's red gaze held him steady. His hands opened and closed at his sides as he stood, trapped. I'wilo turned away to pull something from his bag, but the spell remained unbroken. Anduraar didn't move to attack or flee. He just... stood.
I'wilo drew forth two long, dark bottles. These he lifted and shook before waving the draenei over toward him. For a nightmare moment, Anduraar couldn't move. His body wasn't his own. Then his paralysis broke and he was moving back toward the fire. I'wilo signalled for him to sit, and he did so without hesitation. He bit the cork from one bottle and held it out, and Anduraar accepted it clumsily. He pulled the cork from the second bottle and tossed it aside.
"Chakareh skah swehfu. Sah gin'nahlkah yeh... yehyeh ahwata. Jah nehjah sweh staht.", Iwilo said quietly as he ran the open bottle beneath his own long, hooked nose. He sniffed the bottle with obvious relish and then nodded toward the draenei. Anduraar slowly raised his own bottle and mimicked the motion, sweeping the bottle beneath his nose and inhaling deeply. He stared at I'wilo the entire time. I'wilo stared back.
"It smells good.", he said, more to break the silence than anything. I'wilo shrugged and then nodded, tilting back his head and guzzling the wine thirstily. Anduraar watched him dumbly and then lifted his own bottle, drinking with a bit less enthusiasm. The wine was actually quite good; he'd have enjoyed it if it weren't for his predicament.
After draining a third of the bottle, I'wilo lowered it and wiped at his hand with the back of his hand. He placed the bottle between his legs, leaning it against his thigh as he reached over and grabbed the two plates. He handed one to his unwitting comrade and took the other for himself. The draenei accepted the plate with a slight nod, holding it in one hand, the bottle in the other, as the troll dug quickly into his food.
I'wilo lifted his head, chewing slowly, his ears rocking slightly back and forth with the movement of his large, square jaw. A piece of stringy meat caught itself on one of the curved tusks that extended upward from his bottom jaw, and he picked it off and shoved it in his mouth. The troll held up his own plate a bit and nodded toward Anduraar.
Anduraar hesitated as he looked down at his hands holding the plate and bottle. He slowly placed the bottle on the ground and lowered the plate into his lap. The troll watched him expectantly as he tore loose a bit of the meat and brought it slowly to his mouth, feeling as if he were dreaming. Upon tasting the gamey meat, he realized he was ravenous. I'wilo nodded and started eating again as the draenei dug into the rabbit. Both men cleaned the meat from the carcasses with their fingers, leaving not much more than bones.
Having finished their meal, they set their plates aside; I'wilo did so first and Anduraar followed suit. I'wilo grabbed his bottle again, raised it, and leaned back on his elbows as he drank. He eyed the draenei intently across the fire. Anduraar stared back. He was no stranger to trolls, but he'd always viewed them as only the enemy, aggressive and unyielding warriors that were harder to kill than most other species. They kept coming at you until they were thoroughly dead. He'd never thought of a troll bathing, eating from a plate and drinking wine.
I'wilo rolled the cool bottle back and forth on his chest as they sat in silence. After a while, he nodded and slowly rose. Anduraar peered up at him, unsure of how to proceed. I'wilo lowered the bottle to the ground and raised both hands, palm up. Anduraar nodded and got to his feet. I'wilo held up a hand and started toward around the fire. The draenei stood stock-still, breathing heavily, bracing himself for attack. As I'wilo got closer, he looked Anduraar over curiously and began to walk past and around him.
Anduraar began to turn, but I'wilo made a sound, "Ch-ch-ch-ch-ch." and laid a hand on his shoulder. He stopped turning and the troll continued to circle him. He grunted in surprise as the troll grasped his tail suddenly, but he didn't turn. He wasn't keen on having his tail touched by any man, especially this troll, but the inspection was over quickly; his curiosity over the appendage that he lacked apparently satisfied.
He jumped and grunted again when he felt the ends of the troll's two fingers come to rest on his hock, sliding carefully upward to the back of his knee and then back down. He was obviously fascinated with the draenei's unguligrade legs but the intrusion was not welcome, and he stomped his hoove on the ground with a quiet thud. I'wilo released the part of his leg that corresponded with his own plantigrade ankle and stood back up, circling around to face him.
I'wilo suddenly lifted his hand, causing the draenei to flinch as he brought it to stop at eye level, the palm facing him. He tilted his head, his lips pooched out in a slight smile as Anduraar looked at him in confusion. He wiggled the two thick fingers and thumb and chuckled quietly, and Anduraar realized the joke. He held up his own five - fingered hand and surprised himself by laughing back.
"Yes, we're quite different.", he said. This, for some reason, caused the troll to laugh a bit more loudly and Anduraar found himself joining in. I'wilo stepped back and lowered himself again, gripping the wine bottle by the neck and drinking what was left in it. Anduraar sat as well, folding his ungulate legs carefully and pushing them out to the side. He noted the way I'wilo watched this and nearly smiled at the troll's dauntless curiousity.
He was a bit curious himself, having never seen a troll up close for any extended period of time. I'wilo might have been reading his mind, for he suddenly slid over and lifted one big, two - toed foot, wiggling the toes right in front of the bemused draenei. He opened a third bottle of wine and propped himself up on one side, drinking as he held his leg up. He rolled onto his bag, holding the bottle out to the side so that it didn't spill.
Grinning crookedly, he bent his leg and indicated the square dewclaw above the heel. It didn't appear to have any function at all and it also appeared to have been painted red. Upon closer inspection, he could see that the nail was black beneath and was indeed covered in chipping paint. He snorted and shook his head and that sent the troll into more hysterical laughter.
I'wilo pulled back his foot and tapped it, "ahntu". Anduraar blinked, "What?" I'wilo jutted one long, thick finger at Anduraar's hoove. "Oh..." I'wilo pointed at his own foot, "Oh." he declared. "No. It's... that's your foot." I'wilo raised an eyebrow and Anduraar shook his head and pointed at his own foot. "Foot. Foot."
"Fooot.", I'wilo repeated, pointing at his own foot. Anduraar nodded. "... ahntu.", he replied, pointing at his own hoove. They both blinked silently and then Anduraar grabbed his tail, lifting it. "Tail." I'wilo slapped the ground behind himself and they both laughed.
Before long, the two were both drunkenly comparing themselves, surrounded by a half dozen empty wine bottles. Both men stared at eachother blurrily. I'wilo's eyes were red-rimmed and appeared slightly swollen. Anduraar's own were slits of blue light that remained closed longer and longer each time he blinked. It was a stand-off of sorts. As chummy as the two had become, neither wanted to fall asleep first.
Finally, I'wilo lay over and closed his eyes. They remained closed for one minute, then two. Anduraar watched him silently. After ten minutes had passed, he could stay awake no longer. He lie on his side and promptly passed out.
I'wilo's eyes snapped sharply open and he walked over, leaning over the noisily snoring draenei. "Ah wahs nevah gonna kill ya, baht ah did plahn on sahmtin ya would rahmembah meh by." He ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek and pressed the tip of his finger to one of his sharp tusks. "I'wilo knows whaht et beh lahk ta beh too liddle. Mehbeh naht to da Dahkspeah, but ahmong my own..."
After emptying his bladder, I'wilo returned to his spot to lie down. He slept quietly.
Anduraar awoke to find I'wilo checking the straps on his raptor. The empty wine bottles clinked in the saddlebags as he turned around to survey the area. There was no sign of the previous night's campfire, save for some thinly spread ashes, but the wind was making quick work of erasing even that.
I'wilo approached the groggy draenei and drew his long dagger from its sheath. Anduraar didn't flinch but his breath did catch, briefly. The troll's red eyes bored into his own and he returned the gaze evenly, accepting the dagger when I'wilo flipped it over in his hand and placed the handle in Anduraar's palm.
I'wilo then removed a small, rubbery object from the bottom of his empty quiver and pressed it into the draenei's palm. He nodded at him and Anduraar nodded back. The troll turned and walked alongside the raptor instead of mounting it.
Anduraar opened his hand and beheld the strange, purplish thing in his palm. He gave I'wilos back a puzzled glance, but the troll didn't look back. He used his thumb to roll the object over and then shouted, flinging it to the ground in revulsion. He looked up and saw the troll's shoulders shaking with silent laughter. "May the light embrace you, I'wilo.", he muttered, shaking his head. And then Anduraar turned and began his long journey home.
