Zaedus' Room

[Zaedus]

A small storage room formerly used by the city guard that was, with the help of Zaedus, cleared for habitation. The small room has been slowly decorated with Zaedus' personal effects. A decent pile of furs sit in one corner as a bed for the Worgen, a used chest from the armory to serve as one of his storage spaces. Bone and scrimshaw talismans and decorations dot the room in various places, a symbol of his heritage. Also decorating the walls are numerous racks of antlers from his kills in the wilds, as well as a few pelts he claims as prizes. Being more of a nomadic warrior the Worgen has really no use for chairs or tables and what is in his room are there purely for guests.

Word traveled quick through the Sentinels of Zaedus' apparent return and if any sought him out, the wolf was easy to find.

[Zaedus]

Zaedus sighed in relief as he plopped down on his pile of furs. Many a day was spent in renovating this old store room. He had been ever thankful to the city guard for allowing him to take this place as his home. He knew while he was in the guard all those years ago this small out building was the old armory, and it worked being separate from the main compound that existed now he could have a modicum of privacy.

" 'ope all is well captain, the boys will prob'ly have more morale with you being so close."

Said one of the current captains now standing in the main room of the building. Zaedus got up and walked into the room eyeing the man. He knew this particular man, the scar that arced across his stubble covered face, was a constant reminder of what the Worgen had done to him when he lost control of himself in a training session after Raevrin's "gift". Zaedus nearly winced every time he saw it, a reminder of his failure. He had spent almost every night in the healer's ward to make sure he woke up. Zaedus shook the thought from his head and came back to the present.

"I insist Captain Drax, you do not have to address me as captain any longer. I hold not that station anymore. As for morale I doubt those who know me not will gain morale form my living here."

The captain shook his head and laughed softly

" 'ay now Captain, you will always be that to tha boys, as fer the new ones, well we have made sure to tell them a few stories about ya, 'specially the one with those two Vampy-Vampi- "

He stumbled on his words to find the right one, then abruptly gave up

" ah hell you know those blood suckers as people were spreading tales about, that you and Kerag fought off. "

Upon hearing the captain's descriptor more memories of that day and after flowed into Zaedus' mind.

"...Yes....those two...I am sure wildfire tales are not away to increase morale but instill fear my friend."

" No, some of the fresher ones often say they are going to do things that you and the former members used to, you know Kerag, Venom, Captain Marg, Commander Grayell. We jus' laugh at em and tell them they can try, and in a way it does give 'em motivation."

Zaedus chuckled, then the good memories started flowing into his head. He walked over to his long chest where he kept his armaments. Releasing the latch and reached in and pulled out a linen wrapped great sword. To a normal man it was a giant of a blade, one would say unwieldy but to Zaedus it was just another extension of his body. The Captain took a step back seeing Zaedus draw the blade from the chest.

" Captain, do you know why this blade is wrapped?"

Zaedus asked, eyes narrowed. The guard shifted a bit, uncomfortably, and cleared his throat.

" nay, I d'not "

Zaedus sat cross legged on the ground and beckoned the Captain to take a seat in one of the chairs. Drax pulled a chair up and sat feeling small that the Worgen, sitting cross legged on the ground was almost as tall as he was sitting in a chair. It made him realize just how feeble he must have seemed to the wolf.

"Then stay a while and listen to the tale I have to offer you."

Zaedus continued, laying the blade across his knees.

[Zaedus]

Zaedus eyed the blade, then slowly pulled back the linen wraps binding the blade. Slowly but surely the crimson orange tint of the metal gleamed softly in the light peeking it's way through the window near where he was sitting. He removed more of the wrappings, revealing the fine etchings within, two wolves running down the breadth of the blade.

Drax became suddenly awestruck at the craftsmanship of the blade. He pondered what metal made that hue, among what other materials were used to implement the different shades. Along the outer edge was red, almost as if it were hot, the inside going in a smooth gradient from red to orange to silver. His eyes widened further at the sight of the pommel and cross guard.

In the center sat a ruby, cut in the middle to resemble an eye, the cross guard shaped to be two wolf fangs hanging downwards. It was a beautiful blade, an exotic one he had never seen the likes of before. He eyed Zaedus, wondering how he came into possession of the blade.

"...By the divine....where did you get that?"

He said, suddenly shutting his mouth as he came to the realization that he just vomited out that question with out wanting to. Zaedus simply smiled, then looked form Drax, to the blade, then back again.

"It is a clan blade, forged only for those who have proven themselves in the Frostmane clan to be great and accomplished warriors."

His tone dropped as he finished, Drax picking up on it.

"I take it, you having that is...well contrary to what you said....not a good thing"

Zaedus nodded his head in agreement. Drax nodded, and lowered his head.

"This blade was not meant to be in my hands, it was my brothers."

[Zaedus]

Drax shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He had suspected that the soon to come tale would not be a pleasant one. But he sat there, somewhat perplexed. Zaedus looked solemn, a look Drax had not seen on the Worgen in a very long time, not since he woke up from the medical ward and the Worgen had been standing there. Drax dismissed the thought, then looked from Zaedus to the blade.

"If you don't mind me askin' how then did ye come abouts it?"

He asked hesitantly, hoping he did not upset Zaedus. In his experience prying too much unwanted could lead to tension. He was relieved when Zaedus smiled, the corner of his mouth arcing up ever so slightly. Half-hearted, but a smile none the less and he took it as a good thing. Zaedus cleared his throat.

"Seven years ago I ventured north with Grayell and Yukiko-"

Using her formal name, as to not disrespect her being Zaedus did not know if Drax knew of her. A possibility he may, but not something Zaedus was not willing to wager on.

"It was during the time werewolves were being persistent with being around Wistvale. On that journey we managed to quell the problem but I learned much from the tribe of people we met, that in turn triggered something in me. I had to resolve conflicts I left behind in my own selfish arrogance. I had to mend what was broken."

Zaedus paused slightly, running a clawed finger tip across the flat of the blade. It made a soft ring, almost musical. Drax was once again admiring the blade. He took in what Zaedus had said concerning his unresolved past and nodded.

"Aye, I know of what that feels my friend. A hardship I wish on no one, especially if it is washed in tragedy and sorrow."

Zaedus chuckled. It was that moment he realized why he had enjoyed talking to the man, even as a young recruit Drax had always shown a more intuitive side that betrayed his usual habits of playing ignorant until provoked.

"I started by going home..."

[Zaedus]

The winter winds were harsh, though the Worgen was accustomed to the cold, he had forgotten how strong of a bite the winds of the Frostlands could place upon a traveler.

He looked back seeing Nearheath far into the distance then looked back to the road ahead of him. The first snow had not fallen yet, but by the chill in the air and the push of the wind it was fast on approach.

It was hard to tell the exact time of day due to the cloud cover, but he wagered it was mid morning as the frosted ground crunched under his foot falls. The smell of the pines was heavy in the air, a comforting scent lifting his heart.

Home...

Although the bitter taste of his departure here still yet lingered, he could not deny the elation he felt at being in such familiar territory. He looked to the west and knew where it would lead him.

He looked south east and also knew where it would lead. Then north east, and reality sank in with an increased gravity, the reminder of why he was here in the first place.

Zaedus sighed, watching the fog of his breath float lazily in front of him then disperse into nothing. A small smirk crossed his face and he pressed onward towards the looming mountain range that rest in the distance.

He estimated a four day travel before he came near the mountains, the trek through the large pine forest that sat at the mountains base would take the longest, and could be the deadliest...

[Zaedus]

Smoked snaked and danced it's way through the dirt placed on it, the embers beneath hissing in vehement protest. Another scrape of his foot buried the rest. Zaedus looked forward, his eyes scanning the mountain pass that would lead to his home. Although familiar with the territory he knew he was not entirely safe.

The pass was known to be treacherous, the woods that flooded the base even more so. Dire Bear were known to use them as hunting grounds, and were ever at war with the dire wolves. He gathered his things, shaking off the light dusting of snow they accrued over the night.

The sky was gray, small flakes floating listlessly in the air as the breeze dictated their every move, against their will. Zaedus soon brought himself back to the present, taking his gaze away from the pale sky to the forest that lay just a couple of miles ahead of him.

He pressed forward jumping from rock to rock as he made his way down the hill side, careful not to land on one that was too covered in snow. He was out of practice, but made it down with little problem, and continued on.

[Zaedus]

Clouds of steam filled the air. The scent of copper heavy.

Zaedus reared his head, eyes closed tight trying to fight the rending pain in his chest. Warm fluid draining over his hand as he clutched his chest. He could hear the roars of the angered beast in the distance and he knew he could not stay here forever.

He looked down from his perch in the tree, watching as globules of blood dripped down into the snow, painting a vivid crimson picture spattering across the ground. His head throbbed from the extended use of his "Gift". He cursed Raevarin at that point, cursed him to suffer the wrath of all the hells.

He had to flee, knowing full well that it may cost him his life. He looked to the distance, the road to the pass in clear sight. he had been in these woods for two days now, and of all times he had to be attacked by that damned Dire Bear.

I could make it, its not that far.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A harsh scream pierced the morning air causing those nearby to rush to the bed side to calm and help. A robed figure soon entered the room of the large yurt. He was aged for a Warven, what was once vibrant brown fur was now stained with white and gray. Many a talisman adorned his robes and hair. A symbol of his status.

He looked on, and when the scream stopped the female on the bed looked at him, her milky white eyes piercing his own gaze.

"Father......they have come home. They are almost here, they fight for their lives.....but.."

Tears welled in her eyes, and she soon fell to a silent sob. Her father was soon at her side, a look of concern and sadness showing itself in full form on his face. After a few moments she turned to him.

"The darkness poisons the blood, taints the soul, and the beast yearns for release. Father.....he has been tainted by darkness. It churns in his soul, it lashes out with hatred. It lusts for blood and vengeance."

She sat shaken, her milky orbs dancing wildly as she looked at her father. At that moment the High Shaman of Clan Frostmane showed defeat. He went to rise but was nearly jerked down as his daughter grabbed his wrist.

"He comes father, he has escaped. I must see him."

[Zaedus]

Zaedus crawled towards the battlefield in the darkness, the mist from the falls pressing down, blotting out sound, scattering starlight. Though the elders and parents forbade the cubs to go here, he'd played on this field many times since the clan war--during the day. Tonight, his purpose was grimmer.

Reaching the top of the hill, Zaedus stood and adjusted his belt and cloth. The river behind him was hissing, or maybe it was the spirits of the fallen warriors. He squared his shoulders, ignoring his imagination.

The mists made him seem suspended, outside of time. Even though there was no evidence showing it, the sun was fast on approach. Even Kalzumar didn't come out here at night, all the kids thought the blood stained field was haunted.

Gripping the small knife attached to his belt, Zaedus started walking. It was not just the unquiet dead that might pull him down into the underworld. A pack of Dire Wolves were seen roaming about the past few nights, fangs large, claws as sharp as steel.

Nor were the dire wolves the only creatures that roamed the night. Bears and Dire Bears also roamed the nights if hungry enough and young Zaedus would be a perfect snack if he were to get caught. A low howl cut the mist and the darkness hundreds of paces deeper into the field. Zaedus froze. Oh, it seemed the direwolves were about.

Another wolf answered, farther out. A haunting sound, the very voice of the wilderness. You couldn't help but freeze when you heard it. it was the kind of beauty that made you soil yourself.

Another howl, this time behind him.

---------------------------------------------------

He awoke suddenly, and he was in a different place. The pain in his chest still apparent, but less so and a bandage was wrapped expertly around him. He looked up to find glaive tips pointed at his head. He looked around confused, wondering why he was suddenly a prisoner.

That was until he noticed the two guards on post suddenly drop to their knees, pain rearing on their faces. The clattering of their weapons was loud on the ground. He looked up to the door way, seeing movement as a green and brown robed female Warven entered the room, her milky eyes piercing his.

[Zaedus]

"You know...you got in so much trouble after that night."

Came her voice, it sounded soft and calm. Zaedus could pick up the worried tone in her voice. He looked at her confused wondering why she looked the way she did. Wondered what had happened to her. He dismissed the thought as she sat next to him on the bed side.

"What.....what do you mean?"

He asked, hoping she would not have noticed the tone caused by his internal questioning. She saw through the deception though, a small smile cracking across her face. She placed a hand on his face and smiled wider.

"Your dream silly, I was watching it. You went to the sundered field in hopes to find a relic to show to father, but what you ended up doing was being attacked by a dire wolf. Father was so mad that you went, but so proud you came back with one of their corpses."

She laughed and let it trail off...it levitated in the air for a few moments. Zaedus grabbed her hand, a look of concern growing over his face. He looked her in the eyes, and for a second it seemed as if she did the same. He was almost lost in those milky orbs, lost in despair.

"What...happened? Why are you....blind?"

His voice was shaky, but she simply placed a finger over his mouth to silence him. She stood up and looked at him with slight pity.

"I am not. I may have lost my physical sight, but in no way am I blind. I can see into the veil, see through the weave of magic."

She stretched out her arms and breathed deep.

"The spirits have given me the third sight. For that I am thankful. We will talk more when you are fully recovered. The high shaman had much to discuss with you."

At that Zaedus winced. The woman moved to the flap covering the room and released her hold on the two Warven guards. She turned back, a smile on her face.

"Welcome home.....brother."

The two guards had a look of terror on their faces, and even though they had just stood, they were back on their knees, heads bowed low.

[Zaedus]

The room was circular, shelves lined the eastern wall almost full to capacity with books and scrolls. On the opposite end vials upon vials of various liquids cluttered a desk. A large table sat on the northern wall, on it books,maps, and more scrolls littered it.

The pelt of a dire bear adorned the floor, nearly covering the small room's floor completely.He remembered that one. Kalzumar had killed it long ago, Zaedus nearly died that day, a common thing when he and his brother were out in the wilds.

Zaedus would be bait and Kalzumar would be the hunter for whatever beast they were trying to kill. Zaedus had been victorious that day as well for he etched his name in one of the fangs on that horrid beast. He could see it as he walked by.

An aged Warven sat behind that table, peering over information depicted in whatever book he was reading. A simple hand gesture form the Warven and Zaedus knew what it meant.

He pulled up a chair, an odd thing to see in a yurt, but he knew this Warven had many foreign visitors and accommodated for them.

He sat down and as he did he reflexively went to adjust his armor, but he was not wearing any. No, on this day he decided to wear what was given him, a simple sash with a cloth band draping from the center, and a hide vest.

He was uncomfortable wearing it, the scar left by Raevarin visible. That was what he wanted to hide. The Warven across from Zaedus looked up at him, then leaned back in the chair he was sitting in, a sigh escaping his lips.

"Why have you returned Zaedus?"

[Zaedus]

The question stunned him.

Why?

Zaedus figured it should have been obvious. Should have been plain and easy to see. He had not come here under some mysterious circumstance. He had not arrived under some hidden agenda.

The scowl on his face was apparent and it caught the attention of the old Warven across from Zaedus. A similar look was given in response but swiftly retracted. Another sigh escaped, this time it was shared. Zaedus breathed in to speak but was cut off.

"I meant you no frustration Zaedus. My question was merely to get a straight answer. Something you usually fail to give. It was meant for another underlying meaning. You were banished, told to never return and yet here you sit. Why?"

The scowl on Zaedus face deepened. The rage building up in his eyes giving them a slicing edge to his glare. Of all the years...twenty two to be exact, the old Warven was across from him hadn't changed. Zaedus gripped the ends of the chair, and cleared his expression once he heard the wood begin to crack under the pressure.

"Well, to alleviate your suspicions, I am not here to grovel at your feet and beg forgiveness. Nor am I here to plead my innocence over something that happened decades ago. However I figured I would return and possibly dilute the foul taste that was left on our last discussion prior to my departure. Or is your youngest son not worth it enough to you anymore?"

Zaedus said that last bit through his teeth. He wanted it to be venomous, he wanted it to inflict a wound. Seeing the sudden change of expression on his father's face, he got what he wanted.

[Kiko]

(Lovely stuff. I have missed seeing you write.)

[Zaedus]

Minutes passed and the arguing and heated debate ended. Zaedus walked out of his father's study, a guard approaching to see what he may need swiftly hit the ground. The guard was seeing bright flashes as pain jolted through his head. The taste of copper filling his mouth with haste.

He looked up to see the middle Frostmane son standing over him, the guard noticed his own blood dripping from the young lord's hand. However it was outstretched offering assistance instead of coming in for another blow.

Confused, he took Zaedus' hand and was hoisted up with enough speed to almost send him reeling again. Once oriented on which way was up and which way was down the guard looked to Zaedus, to which the big Warven just nodded and shook his head in a dismissive manner.

At this point that poor guard still had no idea what the hell just happened. He didn't care though and just shambled off clutching the side of his.

In Zaedus' anger he barely noticed the soft touch brush his arm. He turned instinctively in defense and soon dropped his guard.

"Always the sporadic one you were. You remind me of your father so much."

She said, getting a disapproving grunt from Zaedus. Zaedus took her arm in his and escorted the old Warven, aiding her in her steps so she was not bearing down on that twisted oaken staff. Looking at it brought a sense of amazement.

She still had it.

Zaedus remembered when he made it, or rather smoothed it up with sandstone since he had found the branch randomly. He received many a jape from his elder brother, saying he was a mother's cub. Her voice distracted him form his thoughts.

"When I was told of your coming by your sister I almost did not believe it. For the longest time I had thought I lost both of my sons. Whatever the case of you being here, and despite your differences with your father, I am overjoyed that you have returned."

He guided her to a chair, and eased her into it. At this time he barely registered her words, instead his mind was focused on how frail she was. She was thin, very thin, he felt the bone of her arm as if she had no muscle. He also noticed what the wear of pain had done to her over the years. At that point he had nearly forgotten everything that had just happened and just stared at his mother.

[Zaedus]

Her slender frame trembled and the tumultuous, ragged cough gave Zaedus a start. He was not expecting that. His suspicions from earlier in the day gave way to truth and it made him question how long she had been ill. Even though he was in his room in the yurt and his mother and fathers were across the great room, he could hear it clearly.

He got up from his bedding motioning to the guard to move out of the way. He went to find his sister, easy enough. He spotted her just outside scrawling something in the dirt, muttering some words as a small mound of dirt rose up to give way to a small figure. It shambled about excitedly then fell to dust. She giggled.

"You scared him brother...now it will take me a while to get him to come back."

He was confused by her statement. He was going to ask but she was already ahead of him.

"It was an elemental brother. A young one and he likes to come visit from time to time, as for mother she is ill and I know not the reason why."

That made him grumble...he was not accustomed to having someone meddle in his thoughts. She laughed again knowing full well she "heard" him. His scowl deepened.

"Stay out of my mind, it is intrusive."

She laughed and faced her brother, neck craned slightly to look at his face...or seem too since she appeared blind.

"I can't just turn it off Zaedus..."

She placed a hand on his chest, her mood turning somber

"Just as you can't with this...."