Vox Infernal, Part II

Mograg still had not told Winatsha of the voice before they broke camp that morning and went their separate ways. A night's sleep had put the matter largely out of his mind. Other needs took precedent over somewhat clouded memories of the previous day. She was to spend the day on several tasks. Mograg prepared himself for the day's fight. Ogres that day, for the orcs of Garadar, and their war beads for himself. He felt an affinity to these orcs. He felt at home among them.

A long day of battle ensued. Night approached and he returned to the orc village. Tired and feeling the heat and burden of his armor, he stripped most of it away and stowed it. It was no lighter on his back, but he could set the pack down whenever he was not in motion. He replenished his ammunition pouch and set out again to Shattrath. He had business to attend there that could not be accomplished here. As he dismounted his wyvern, he caught the slightest hint of a familiar scent on the air. His business was forgotten. He smiled and walked into the bank directly to Winatsha, who returned his smile. "Fancy meeting you here," he grinned. She looked up to him, returning the grin. "How are you, love?"

All hints of happiness vanished. "Mmm..." She glanced around the bank, surveying the other patrons nervously. "I am..." she started. She fidgeted with her tail. "I am... well enough."

This is going to be like pulling teeth. "Well, that was terribly convincing," his voice dripped with sarcasm.

"Walk with me?" she pleaded.

He nodded his assent. "Let me check my mail quickly?" She nodded to him.

"Of course," she said. He returned her nod.

"Then, walk with me." He grinned. She's hunted. They walked together to the mailbox at the rear of the bank. The Aldor and other neutral parties there paid little heed to them. He checked the mailbox. "Nothing. Good." He smiled, more genuinely. "I prefer it that way. Shall we?" She smiled a bit, nodding absently to him. They walked toward the inner city of Shattrath, nearer the portals. She's hunted, and she reveals it to everyone around her, around us. "So, where shall we walk?" he asked casually. She gave him only a blank look. Scared beyond the capacity for rational thought. "We could go see a bit more of the fire festival, if you like," he offered.

"I..." she started again and fidgeted with her tail. "If you wish."

"It doesn't sound that you do. Tell me where you would like to go?" Or tell me where you do not wish to be, that would do.

She peered about, her eyes landing on faces for a moment before the next. Does she even know who stalks her? "I would prefer not to be around so many... One of our camps, perhaps? Or Mulgore? Or the Lower Wilds...?" she trailed off. She has no idea.

"Mulgore is close, in a way. Let's go there." The plains. Her stalker will be forced into the open, or to wait. Winatsha glanced around again, a slight frown furrowed her forehead. She nodded. They walked in silence to the portal that would carry them back to their homeland, their very home planet. She gently kissed his cheek before they stepped through.

The time between stepping through the portal and stepping out the other side always caused Mograg anxiety. It was not long, perhaps not even perceptible, but it tugged at his mind each time. That he always landed in the cavern that held the Pools of Vision, that those whom he saw first on each homecoming were undead aligned with the Apothecarium, did not make him any more easy. They strode out of the cavern, across the bridge from the Spirit Rise to the Low Rise, and headed directly down the lift to Mulgore. As they crossed the footbridge that connected the path over what amounted to not more than a small dip in the plains he saw her relax. Break the silence. "So..." What a foolish question. You're still going to ask it, aren't you? "How are you?"

Winatsha squeezed Mograg's hand. She glanced at him with troubled eyes before setting her gaze back on the well worn path. His own eyes had rarely left the path, determining what numbers had come before them, and how recently. He breathed deeply. No other people. Only the usual animals. No demons. He listened, favoring his good ear. No footfalls, snaps of twig, or brushing of grass. Good. Keep alert, bull. "I... have not had an easy day, my love. I do not know where to start," she said. She smiled small and apologetically, squeezing his hand once more. He returned the gesture.

"Anywhere would be better than nowhere, love," he encouraged.

"I found myself wandering this morning, unable to focus on any task for very long. When I finally admitted to myself I was getting nothing done, I decided it was time and past I visited home," she began. He nodded. "My family was gone, left at daybreak on a hunt." She fidgeted with her tail again. He glanced at her. Her eyes were unfocused, unaware. She said, "I mounted, setting out in the direction the hunters went, thinking I might catch up... Before long I found myself at the base of the Twin Colossals." They settled in near the shore of Stonebull Lake.

"Were they climbing again?" he asked. He watched for reflections in the water. He waited for the wind to reveal to him by noise or smell her stalker, but none came.

She glanced over at Mograg, smiling a bit. Her eyes quickly returned to seeing without seeing. "No, I lost the trail before the bridge near the coast. By the time I realized I had passed them, I decided it no longer mattered as much... I just wanted to ride, to feel the breeze and my kodo beneath me. When I saw the Colossal, I suddenly decided to go up, not really allowing myself to think of my limited options for coming back down." He nodded, aware that she did not find the same thrill he found in leaping from that height. She grinned and shook her head a bit. "I am unsure how long I stayed... An'she seemed to have jumped across the sky in the blink of an eye..." She began to fidget with her tail again as she, too, stared at the water.

"He has a way of doing that, at times," Mograg offered. She nodded absently.

"I found myself atop the Colossal, entreating the spirits for guidance." She tucked her hooves close to her body, curling up, into herself. Nervous, now, but a different kind. "The Winds answered my call... they were... not pleased with me."

"Mmm? Alright." He was spiritual, certainly. If she had said she asked the guidance of her ancestors, he would know better how to react. The elements were her guides, in their most raw form. While not a foreign idea to him, he did not relate as well. She hesitated again, still slow to speak what was on her mind. The beast spoke up for him, catching him by surprise, "I would ask why, but I assume you will get to it when the time is right."

She peered at him a long moment before continuing, "I have been blind to certain truths about myself, though the spirits have tried to help me see."

Mograg tilted his head a bit to one side. He did not understand, nor did he understand why it was taking so long to get to the cause of her earlier paranoia. "Go on?" Easy, bull. You love her, remember?

She lowered her muzzle slightly, her eyes transfixed on her hooves as she spoke, "Though I would never have thought of it in such a way, I put myself in a position of leadership when I hung the first scroll from a tree, announcing I was seeking other Shu'halo to rekindle the old ways. I have been pacing in circles, frustrated and discouraged that so few showed interest that I could not see the obvious." She looked to him. "There was little to show interest in." She shook her head a bit and smiled sheepishly. "Why would anyone wish to follow the path I have been on? Chasing my tail as I've been."

Sympathy found its way back into his demeanor. "It's not such a bad tail to chase," he deadpanned. She blinked in surprise, then laughed at him. "Please, continue," he encouraged, politely this time.

She cuddled against him now and sighed softly. "I am at a crossroads... I cannot continue as I have been, that is clear," she said.

"So, you have decided on which path to take, then?" The crossroads, even in their metaphorical sense, must be a very busy place these days. How many of our spirits are standing there? She nodded slowly to him. "That's something, then."

"The easy path is well worn," she continued, "and it stretches out with a welcome familiarity." She lifted her muzzle a bit and returned her gaze to the water, looking out across it. "The path I walk, I will have to beat as I go." Mograg nodded. She found his hand again with hers and gave it a gentle squeeze, a gesture returned by him in kind. "I hope you will keep me company..." She smiled softly up at Mograg.

Memories of the the white bull, her Greatfather, who approached him in Feralas as she lay sleeping at their riverside camp suddenly resurfaced in his mind. A path often difficult, yes. You and I both knew that, ancient one. I am not so young myself. Noise on the stone interrupted his thoughts. The Elder of the clan had just made his presence known, and those quiet before called out in greeting to him. "Yes, love, surely." He paused a moment. Directly, this time. No more open-ended questions. "But, this cannot be what drives you to seek near-solitude nor what put the paranoia of stalked prey in your eyes earlier."

She closed her eyes and began breathing slowly through her nostrils. The old nervousness has returned. Good. "I was..." she frowned, "...contacted... early this evening, just before I came to Shattrath." Her speaking was labored and slow, as it had been most of the evening.

"By anyone in particular?" the bull's pragmatic side knew no sympathy. She fidgeted with her tail once more.

The voice from the previous night returned, as if to answer his question. "How are you, Mograg?" Zurrikan. He will wait.

"A presence... in my mind... I think..." she frowned darkly. She hesitated.

The voice came to him again, "Mograg?" Good job, bull. You should not have left her alone. Why didn't you tell her of the voice? Foolish pride.

She found the words, finally, "I think it was what Elder Dusthoof was trying to warn me of." Her hunch is not proof of it. Find out more. And what does he want?

He asked internally of the voice, "A bit busy at the moment. You?"

The voice replied almost too quickly, "Busy? What with?" He's far too interested. He wants something. If I'm right, he wants to know where we are. Ignore him.

To Winatsha he said, "Okay. Care to explain a bit?"

She looked to him with troubled eyes once more. She seemed to him searching for the words she needed. "It warned me..." she settled on, for a moment. She shook her head. "No, it threatened me. It said... it said it was coming for me."

Mograg's pragmatism took over again. "Hmm. Well..." He examined her. "How concerned are you of it?"

"Is there something the matter, Mograg?" the voice asked. Why jump to that conclusion, unless you expect it is so? You do not know me, nor should you care.

She twisted the tuft at the end of her tail. "I am not sure..." Clearly. You fidget and your eyes dart about, but look at you. She peered at him a long moment.

In more of a grunt, "Not concerned enough to keep your arms and armor on you," he pointed out.

She nodded slowly. "I am not certain what the danger is, but I felt malice in its touch on my mind." Zurrikan. "But, I have felt the same type of malice from corrupt spirits," she shrugged lightly. "I was in the Felwood... perhaps... perhaps that is what it was? An unusually strong, corrupt spirit..."

Mograg's next thought was interrupted by another noise over the stone. A soft giggle, amused but timid in being so. It was Milanna. She sounded happy, and he was glad for it. Someone ought to find happiness in the day.

He shrugged at Winatsha, "It could be anything." You still don't tell her? How much more evidence do you need? Are you that afraid to be wrong, to not be infallible?

More sound came over the stone, but right now it was comforting, and he did not dismiss it as noise. This time, the high-pitched voice of a pale elf, her name Ceitidh. She was a huntress, and a relative newcomer to the clan. "Hmm?" she asked after the giggle.

"Oh, ah... just some, ah... interesting goings-on in Thunder Bluff..." Milanna, in his head and in the heads of any clan member paying attention at the time, giggled again.

He looked at Winatsha, "Any hunter that announces its intention to stalk you as prey can only have one goal, in my experience."

Ceitidh asked, "What is it?" She'd asked Milanna, but the same question was unspoken by Winatsha, peering up at Mograg now with a tilted head.

Mograg chose his words carefully. In the interim, Milanna gave an explanation. "A shaman... he is giving the waterwalking ability to people... they are dancing on the pond. N-nothing too exciting... b-but it made me giggle." A sudden wave of guilt crashed over Mograg as Milanna spoke. I need to fix this, but the time is not now.

The huntress Ceitidh laughed, though it seemed not genuine. "Does sound silly," she said, all of it inaudible to Winatsha.

Before Mograg could recompose his thought, the voice interrupted again, "At least tell me where you are... I'd love to help." So be it. But not tonight. I will let you think you are close some other night. I need to know more about you first. His eyes narrowed. He surveyed the horizon, taking it in all there was to see, to smell, to hear. He concentrated on the world around him.

He spoke to Winatsha, "That is to flush the prey out into the open so it might be hunted more easily. One can have another scare rabbits toward them out of the undergrowth. You are, in this case, the rabbit." She frowned slightly. He had not meant to say so condescendingly, but by her actions to this point it was truth enough. Winatsha seemed lost for words.

Ceitidh spoke again, "Umm... is...is anyone else near there..?" Two stalkers, or does he use her to gain knowledge? Time to tell her what you know, before it gets too difficult to explain succinctly.

"That potion-seller seems to have taken an overly-active interest in me," he said plainly. Conversation on the stone continued, while Winatsha looked at him, puzzled.

Milanna asked, unsure, "H-here?"

"Any other of the clan near the bluffs?" Ceitidh called out again. "In Mulgore, perhaps?" I wonder if she has an inkling I might be. She sounded a bit desperate this time, "Mograg?" Shit.

Pretend you heard nothing. "Mmm? Yes?"

"Are you and your lady in Mulgore?" she asked. The guilt crashed down on him again. There's no reason to believe she is in danger. Those who knew before, know now.

Not a yes, bull, and not a no. "Mmm. Why?" Mograg always found it educational to see how ambiguous responses were interpreted. Often, he found, those on the other end of the conversation would reveal clues to their state of mind by assuming them to mean one thing or another. "What you need?" he asked.

"I need you to be cautious... Have you met a warlock named Zurrikan?" She didn't go for it. Zurrikan again. One stalker, or more?

"Mmm. What about him?" he asked internally, still neither confirming nor denying.

To Winatsha he grunted, "Hmm." She tilted her head as she waited. "Hold on a moment, love." He found it difficult to converse like this, in the flesh and in his mind.

"You have?" Ceitidh asked, shakily. Such fear. I thought she was a Huntress? And a pessimist, too, should her fear be genuine.

"Strange things are afoot," he said to Winatsha. She nodded to him, fidgeting with her tail again.

Internally, he asked in a calm voice, "Tell me of him, Ceitidh."

"Don't trust him!" Ceitidh exclaimed. "Not a word!"

"Why is this so?" Mograg asked.

"He... he.. he's evil.. possessed by a demon- possibly several.." she trailed off.

Mograg began to unfasten his pack. "Do you still have those potions that we were sold?"

"How you come to know this?" Stay guarded, bull.

Ceitidh's answered, "Stole...murdered.. tormented.." She had trailed off again. An embarrassment. Still, she is no Shu'halo.

Winatsha nodded and took the three vials, Elixirs of Wisdom by their trade name, from her pack. Mograg nodded to her and removed the two potions for increased agility from a padded pocket. He removed their stoppers and poured them into the ground. He shielded Winatsha with his body. Should they react, she would at least have him as cover. He watched the liquid, waiting. Nothing. "Do the same," he commanded. There's a gold coin well spent.

He asked of Ceitidh, "Tell me more, mmm?" The beast had influence on his words again, though his tone remained neutral. "Less one word at a time, more many word at a time."

Ceitidh babbled, frantic, "He.. he used me... took a shard that belonged to my Love.. killed for it- tortured others because they know me..."

Winatsha, looking at him with confusion, obeyed. She removed the stoppers and poured them into the ground. He was unsurprised to find there was no harm caused by this. "I am hearing a story about Zurrikan," he said. "From one in the orc clan." He rarely spoke of the Tears of Draenor by name. Not anymore. Winatsha blinked in surprise.

Ceitidh continued, babbling, "Is whispering in my ear of a tauren couple he's watching- how he plans to hurt them.." A soft gasp was heard in his mind. Milanna.

Mograg now spoke to Winatsha, "To sum up..."

She interrupted, "He is contacting me..."

He cut her off and barked his command, "Ignore it." More civil, he continued, "He's looking for us, which I knew. He's possessed by an array of demons." Winatsha shuddered at the word. "She says he took a shard that belonged to or came from her love, killed for it, tortured others because they know her."

Ceitidh, now sobbing, "and how it's my fault.." Then why have you not done something? I thought you are called a Hunter? Do I have the names confused?

"And," his explanation continued, "he is currently whispering in her ear of a taruen couple he's watching, and how he plans to hurt us, presumably." Winatsha's eyes fly wide. "And something about it being her fault."

No pity, no remorse, and certainly no fear. "And... Why you do not end him?"

Audibly, Mograg sighed. Alright, a little bit of remorse.

"How?" Ceitidh asked of him.

The beast within him demanded control. Mograg allowed it only to be heard, "Same way I end any other demon any other day? Or is he super-demon? Made of bullet-proof demon-stuff?"

Ceitidh sighed, inaudibly. "He has several in him. And the shard keeping him alive contains part of my beloved's soul as well." Pfft. "Though, I guess I have mostly been afraid..." That's more like it.

The beast in Mograg called out, taunting, "Is okay. I have several shells." It's fear that stays her hand. She is weak.

"Put on your gear," he told Winatsha. "Until I get more information, I think it's best we go to Nagrand." She nodded. He began to pull his armor on. He knew she would go to camp. He needn't speak it. As he pulled his goggles down over his eyes he asked, "Shall we?"

"I am ready," she said.

"I shall see you there, love," he assured her. He blew a kiss to her. She approached and kissed him lightly on the cheek. They stood, facing each other. She started to teleport, and he after her. They would not arrive together, but he would not leave her behind. In a moment, he was untold distances away, back in the orc village of Garadar. He summoned his wyvern to him and took wing. While flying over Nagrand he asked one last question of the huntress, "How is it he knows I know you?"

"He doesn't. He chose you at random. I'm just grateful I do know you and can warn you," came the reply.

Mograg grunted. He would be at camp soon.

"The rest of the story, as I've gathered it so far," Mograg said as he dismounted the wyvern, "is that he is kept alive by a soul-shard of her now deceased love, and we were chosen at random." Winatsha frowned darkly. "I'd say we were at the wrong place at the wrong time, but we were headed to the Bluff. It seems like the right place for us to have been. Several demons inhabiting one undead body seem more out of place." She nodded.

More talk on the stones. Athalia had arrived. Mulkanus greeted her, and she returned in kind. Ceitidh spoke up again, "I know it's my fault this monster is loose- even though he admits to using me... And I know I have to fix it. Somehow." She accepts blame then makes excuses. She accepts responsibility and has no plan. It shames her, and now she must speak of it. Good. Maybe it will drive her to end it sooner. I will use that later, if I must.

To Winatsha he spoke again, "Personally, I don't know that I trust her any more than I do him at this point. I don't really know her at all. She is one of the new ones. A pale elf."

Winatsha tilted her head and looked at him. "But... didn't you say she is from your clan?"

Ceitidh sighed in his head, "Just please- all of you- beware of Zurrikan."

He looked at Winatsha. He was incredulous, and cold. Had she forgotten already? Surely, she must feel the scar on his belly, though the length of his fur conceals it. She knew its story. She knew of that betrayal, and of the one that followed. Young. Very young. "I've been given more than enough cause to not trust clan members simply because the elders thought it wise to induct them."

She blanched and nodded. "I'm sorry... of course..." She fidgeted with her tail.

He nodded, then shrugged.

They settled into camp. It was not the easy rest to which they were accustomed. After long moments of silence, Mograg finally spoke again. "I'm not going to worry overly much about this, love. Enough to put on my armor, but not enough to hunt him. I'll leave that to her." She nodded. He thought about demons, and the last hunt he went on for any of appreciable power. He hunted with the clan, then. "Frankly, I've met an Eredar. In the realm of big, scary demons the little guy we saw in Mulgore is about as worrisome as a cloudy day."

Winatsha looked at him with slightly tilted head. "Eredar?" she asked.

"Mmm.... Hrm. If I understand everything properly, which, well, I've been known not to follow Orcish conversations before... Eredar are big demon-corrupted draenei. Or, are demon-corrupted and look more like the draenei did. Something along those lines. Demons from yet another world."

She frowned, nodding slowly. "I see."

"If you do, you're one up on me," he gave a slight smirk. She grinned. "The more I learn of history, the more convoluted and implausible it seems."

"Mmm, perhaps that is why the old stories are told in such simple terms," she offered.

Mograg smiled. Young. Very young, but not without her own wisdom. "Mmm. Probably so. Though, our oldest stories have no need to explain demons from alien planets."

She nodded, "That is true."

They did not sleep at camp that night. They stayed there the remaining evening, but before sleep they sought refuge in Garadar. He had come to know several of the orcs there personally. They've slept there before, when there was no cause for worry. They would sleep there tonight, to ensure no cause would make itself known.