The Young Hunter's Tale (5 parts) (WoW)

[Morreion]

I had a Hunter I played solo in WoW in 2005; I wanted to write a series of stories about things that actually happened to him in-game, embellishing the truth a bit to get a good story. I wish I would have continued these at the time.

The Young Hunter's Tale - Shadowglen.


The young Hunter's last day in Shadowglen dawned brightly; scattered sunbeams penetrated the canopy of leaves high above, illuminating the little village nestled against the hills near Aldrassil.

He stood, his face burning red as the people of the village turned out to wish him well on his journeys. Unused to the attention, he was a quiet lad, more used to his own company than that of others. He smiled awkwardly, his golden eyes upon the ground in front of him; he was a tall Night Elf, clean-shaven, gripping his ashwood bow in one hand, his other hand resting on the back of his Nightsaber cat, his constant hunting companion.

He was given small gifts as he walked through the people whom he had known from infancy, the village that had raised him as an orphan after his father, a Hunter of some renown, went off to the continent of Kalimdor and was lost there; his mother had died of grief a year later; he had been very young, and only had vague memories and dreams of the faces of his parents.

He placed the offerings of food and the copper coins into his satchel. He walked to the road that led away from home and to the rest of the world.

Beside the road was Elthania, the old woman who had taken him into his care after his parents were gone. She leaned upon her walking stick, the heaviness of age bending her back, but her smile was bright and happy for him; he went to her and took her frail body in his arms, holding her close.

She broke their embrace and stepped back a pace.

"Elune has blessed me this day, to see you as a fine man off to see the wide world."

He smiled. "Elune blessed me years ago, Elthania, with a fine mother when I had lost my flesh and blood."

Her smile widened; he felt warm inside, yet sad, knowing that he may very well never see her again.

She bent down slowly, picking a bundle up off the ground at her feet.

"This is for you, my son. I have kept it all these years for this day. It was your father's, long ago, when he was young."

Curious, his heart beating, he unwrapped the rags in his hands, to reveal a large fighting knife, angled forward, heavy yet balanced in his hand as he hefted it. Sunlight glinted off the burnished steel; the blade had an edge like a hatchet. The wooden handle was worn smooth from use. 'Father held this', he marveled.

"Elthania..." he started to say.

"Go now. Any more words would make me want to keep you here. You are too old now to be nursed, you know."

The young Hunter stuck the War Knife of Stamina in his belt, and embraced his foster mother once more, his eyes closed, heart aching.

"Elune be with you, my son." Elthania turned and shuffled back up the street towards her cottage, turning away just in time to hide the trickle of tears that coursed down her face as she left the young man who she had raised as her own.

He called a blessing out to her, then turned away, his throat tight with emotion. He looked up at the road's path, winding gradually upward towards the pass leading to Dolanaar, and hence on to Darnassus, the capital of Teldrassil, and the heart of the Night Elf nation.

"Come, Furtig!", he said, and his large cat fell in beside him as he strode briskly up the familiar road, leaving behind Shadowglen, his world, never to come back this way again.

[Morreion]

The Young Hunter's Tale - Ban'ethel Barrow Den.


The Druidess wiped the sweat off her forehead with the back of her forearm.

The dark cave was lit only by occasional torches in holders along the wall. In front of her upon the stone floor was the body of a Gnarlpine Defender, lay sprawled in death. She crouched, searching the body for any items of use.

She had been moving in circles in this maze of darkness for an hour now; she searched for the fourth and final Relic of Awakening- the Sapphire of Sky- to bring back to Athridas Bearmantle in Dolanaar. The fetid air, the foul monsters guarding the cave, most of all the oppresive gloom- all weighed upon her spirit.

She stood, gripping her staff resolutely, and whirled around in a half-crouch, ready to swing- she had heard a small sound behind her.

An old Nightsaber cat came up the corridor behind her, its left ear shredded with an old wound, its eyes showing that it was friendly to her and no threat. Following it was a Hunter, bow held at the ready, arrow on the cord; a young Night Elf, looking as tense as she was.

"Blessed Elune", the Druidess said softly, and cast the Mark of the Wild upon the Hunter and his cat. He bowed to her, and they spoke words of greeting.

"I am seeking to release the Druids held in the Emerald Dream, and only lack the Sapphire that is hidden within this maze." Being fiercely independent, she would not ask for aid, though in truth this barrow was oppressive...she had always been strong, and proud.

The Hunter nodded slowly, stroking the fur on the back of his great cat, who looked uneasily around the darkened surroundings. He spoke.

"I have heard of the Emerald Dream. None should have to spend eternity here..." His voice lowered. "The Gnarlpines have claimed this den for their own for too long."

She told him she was seeking a small cavern where the Relic should be found. It was unspoken, the fact that they would both seek it. The Nightsaber cat nuzzled her hand, and she scratched behind its one good ear. She felt confident now.

They moved along the darkened corridor; the cat prowling ahead, them behind. It seemed like an hour before the cat came back to the Hunter and gave a low growl in its throat. The Hunter nodded silently to her, and nocked his arrow once more.

They stepped out of the corridor into a wide cavern, dim smoky torchlight showing a foot-bridge leading over a chasm to another cave. Two Gnarlpines paced back and forth at the far end of the bridge. The Druidess nodded to the Hunter, indicating she would take the right-hand creature.

The eerie green fire of the bolt of nature magic called Fury struck the Gnarlpine, and a split second later, an arrow buried itself into the shoulder of the other guard. The creatures rushed over the bridge; the Druidess shouted a Word of Power, and the harsh white glow of Moonfire leapt from her target like a shaft of vengeance up to the top of the cave; as the cat tore at the other guard, and the Hunter thrust a large knife into its body, the Druidess slammed her staff into her weakened foe thrice, and then all was still.

They walked over the bridge slowly. As they neared the opening in the cave wall, three Gnarlpine Shamen appeared at the entrance, chanting alien words of sorcery. They were caught in a field of energy; the Druidess called upon Elune in a clear loud voice, and the spell was broken, and the fight was hard but brief, staves and knives and teeth flashing in the death struggle, ending with the death of the Shamen, one throwing himself off the edge of the chasm before oblivion took him.

The Druidess bent down, entering the small doorway into a round chamber. A totem stone glowed in the corner, illuminating a sturdy metal box upon the floor. As she opened it and gazed down at the gem, she smiled for the first time in two days.

Afterward, when she stood triumphantly in front of Athridas Bearmantle with the Relics, she realized that the young Hunter that she had parted ways with as they left the Barrow Den had never told her his name.

[Morreion]

The Young Hunter's Tale - The Pools of Arilthrien.


The young Hunter knew that it would be any time now.

He kept pushing the knowledge out of his mind, putting it off. But the signs were there.

Furtig, his Nightsaber hunting companion, was old. He kept falling behind as they wandered through the forest, and he would have to wait for him to catch up.

This day he waited, and Furtig did not appear. He slowly walked back the way he had came.

The old Nightsaber cat lay upon the ground, his head upon his paws. His shredded ear twitched when he saw his master, but he did not get up.

The Hunter sat down next to the great beast, ran his hand over his coat of fur, and remembered:

Growing up as a child, riding on the back of the hunting cat who was his father's oldest pet...learning how to hunt, his feline companion stalking ahead of him, flushing out prey for him to shoot...the hunt on which a giant spider attacked him, and Furtig seizing the creature, dragging it off of him, allowing him to put an arrow into it.

The old cat raised his head, his eyes vacant. He turned his head and licked the Hunter's hand.

As the afternoon lengthened, he still sat next to his pet, stroking his fur, singing in a soft voice the songs of adventure from his childhood.

Over the land he went to find
His destination true,
And by his side his faithful pet
Wandered with him too.

He felt the old cat stop breathing, and he cried, burying his face in the shaggy coat. His last link with his past, to his father, his childhood, but most of all a friend- was no more.

The next day, he buried Furtig where he had died, using his knife and his bare hands to carve out the hole in the ground. It took a long time.

When he resumed his journey to the capital, he felt strange without the great cat at his side. He hummed as he walked to ward off the silence, the loneliness.

Once the one that led me here
Spoke of farther lands,
I heard and followed in my youth
Now alone I stand.

He was on his own.

[Morreion]

The Young Hunter's Tale- Darnassus.


Darnassus, the capital of Teldrassil, was not like the crowded warrens of Kalimdor or Azurath. Dwellings were built into the ancient trees that towered into the sky. Wooden buildings clustered in the trade district, and the impressive Temple of the Moon stood at one end of the city. Ponds dotted the central area.

Into one such pool the young Hunter awkwardly cast his fishing line. Having recently learned the trade, he thought it wise to be able to catch his own food as well as hunting it.

Clear laughter rang out behind him.

He turned to see a young lass dressed in leather, a Druidess by the looks of her, fishing pole in her hand, smiling at him.

"You have not fished before?"

His face flushed. "I'll admit to this being my first time."

"It shows, Hunter. Watch me, and learn?"

He nodded to her and observed her cast expertly into the pond, move her bait around in the water, and suddenly pull in a grouper, thrashing on the end of the hook.

He was watching her, though, and missed all the finer techniques of her skill, in favor of enjoying the movements of her lithe form. Such is youth, regardless of race, or time, or place.

Her name was Jassilis. As they fished- she expertly, he poorly- they talked of what brought them here, to the capital. Youth and the desire of adventure seemed to walk hand in hand under the bright sun of Teldrassil on this day.

She was an expert fisher; for every fish he caught, she hauled up several, to his rueful observation. He told her that he typically spent his time improving his leatherworking skills.

"Oh- a leatherworker!" She gazed down at her worn leggings. "I have been in need of a new piece of armor for a while now..."

His face reddened, and he vowed to make her a better pair this very day. She smiled and protested, but he would not take no for an answer. He gathered up his pack, and telling her he would return, he set out for the city gates.

He roamed the wooded shore of Wellspring Lake, hunting deer. He struck down three fine does with three expert bowshots, and set about skinning the hides, using the magic passed down for millennia to cure the hides at a touch, and then he began to sew the leather, fitting it in the well-known pattern that he had done many times.

He returned the next day to the capital, and he was surprised to meet her at the Warrior's Terrace. He took the leggings out of his pack, and handed them to her.

She smiled and laughed, and started loosening her belt. His face burned red and he turned his back while she changed into her new armor.

"It is wonderful!" she exclaimed, standing proudly in her new garment, giving him a dazzling smile, and she hurriedly told him that she was late for an engagement , and turned and ran off between the marble pillars.

He started to call her back, his heart sinking. Instead, he waved and yelled "Fare well" as she disappeared down the broad avenue leading towards the Cenarion Enclave.

He sat upon the magnificent stone terrace, lost in thought, a conflict of emotions welling up inside of him. He sat there still as sunset came upon the ancient unchanging capital, the shadows lengthening across city.

[Morreion]

The Young Hunter's Tale - The Veiled Sea.


The young Hunter sat on the grass on the heights above Rut'theran Village, watching the sea.

The village was at the extreme south end of Teldrassil. It faced south over the Veiled Sea towards the great and wild continent of Kalimdor, a land that had drawn many an adventurer, and would draw many more.

The sea. The young Hunter had heard of it, and now he looked upon it for the first time. He watched the waves wash rhythmically against the shore of the sleepy little village, as they had for millions of years. It was hypnotizing. Overhead, gulls cried as they wheeled in the sky, looking for fish.

The ship made its way to the dock. He picked up his bow and his pack, and strode down the path through the town and out onto the pier. A few others awaited at the end of the dock for the large sailing vessel to halt. Rut'theran had a Gryphon station, but, like others, he lacked the funds for the flight by giant bird. And so, the ship.

He stepped up the gangway to the vessel along with three others. As he found a place along the railing to set down his gear, he studied his traveling companions.

And an odd assortment they were. A tall Night Elf Warrior, shield slung over his back, was a journey-companion with a Human, a Rogue dressed in dark leather armor, bald pate shining in the afternoon sun. He had seen Humans before, but this was the first time he had seen one up close- the man had a sly look about his face, and a brace of deadly fighting blades at his belt. He made the young Hunter feel unsettled.

The third was a Dwarf Hunter- squat and powerful, with a full beard- who traveled with his pet bear. The young Hunter had only heard tales about the master craftsmen and skilled fighters of Ironforge before this day. He was the natural focus of attention from the others. He spoke in a curt, booming voice:

"Name's Hurten, and a curse on all boats! A Dwarves' feet belongs on solid rock!"

The Elf Warrior said that his name was Moonwarden. The human just smiled as if to himself, but later on his companion called him Remi. The young Hunter spoke his name, and said that this was his first voyage by sea.

"Ya will get use ta it lad", the Dwarf said gloomily. "Just stay near the rail acase you be ill!" The bear snuffled and pawed a mop-bucket on the deck.

The Human spread his cloak out upon the deck, and his companion and the Dwarf played at dice. The young Hunter walked along the railing, looking up at the billowing sails, trying to stay out of the way of the crew as the ship got under way, moving out into the Veiled Sea.

The trip was a brief one, Kalimdor being separated from Teldrassil by essentially a strait. As the afternoon lengthened, a rocky shore with gloomy pines became visible to port. Darkshore, as this coast was known.

The young Hunter gazed at the land that meant many things to him- adventure, danger, mystery...life. He already felt he was changing inside, as if a door was closing behind him, yet splendid gates were opening ahead. Strangely, he felt the urge to tell someone about his father, and what this journey meant to him.

Up ahead, the docks of Auberdine appeared. As he went to retrieve his gear, he heard the Dwarf growl, which was answered by a near-roar by his bear.

"I'd a known it. The boat leavin' for Khaz Modan leaves about now from the same docks ahead! I need ta make that boat!"

The ship pulled up to the long pier stretching out from the shore. Across on the far side of the pier, another ship was docked, yet the sails were being unfurled, in preparation for getting underway.

Remi, laughed. "A silver piece says that Master Dwarf shall miss his ship! What say you Moonwarden, and you, Sir?"

The Warrior Elf grinned and took up his bet. The young Hunter shook his head smiling, saying his coin was in short supply.

Hurten look ill-humored about the wager, but then again, he seemed to always be ill-humored, perhaps.

As soon as the ship pulled up to the dock, the Dwarf shouted out to his bear and leaped powerfully onto the dock before the ship had even stopped. Stumbling a bit, he ran towards the other ship at the end of the pier, his short, powerful legs moving his body along as fast as he could. His bear lumbered after him.

Remi and Moonwarden laughed and cheered, yelling out comments to either move faster or slower, depending upon their wager. The young Hunter stepped onto the dock, watching the Dwarf run in the distance.

The ship suddenly lurched away from the dock as the anchors were pulled up. Hurten kept running grimly, but it was over- he ended up plopping down upon his bottom at the end of the pier, chest heaving with exertion, as he watched the ship sail away. His bear came up and sat next to him, the duo looking comical, both sitting, their legs splayed out in front of them.

Remi applauded and demanded his coin from Moonwarden, who passed it over with a wry look. The Hunter smiled and nodded to them, and walked down the dock towards the village of Auberdine.

As he stepped upon the shore of Kalimdor for the first time, his heart thumping in his chest, he turned around and waved at Hurten the Dwarf still sitting on the pier in the distance, chewing his beard in vexation.