Child of the Goddess: Onyx in Life
The Night Elf priestess was named in a fateful ceremony in which she absorbed the spirit of the Goddess while a former priestess passed away. Her elaborate ceremony was timed in accordance with the sacred cycles of the moon. Her altar was bathed in pure moonlight while the woodland community provided audience. Their view was on the priestess, but the priestess’ view was on the Goddess. The priestess who presided over her was in a trance with the Goddess. Her captivated audience watched as the priestess vocalized the will of the Goddess. She whispered but her voice echoed throughout the night air, “This child, dear child, shall one day bear my will. She has been begotten of my womb.�? Then the priestess fell down like a falling star for her passing was as beautiful as her service to the Goddess had been in life. A Druid of the Talon broke with the formality of the ceremony to catch her in mid air as she fell. He flew so fast his flight rustled the woods and aroused the woodland animals. As the child was crying in the background, all the druid could think about was the sacrifice made as he held the baby in his arms. The priestess' youthful body was gently laid to rest on the altar as the baby was taken by a Druid. The Druid quieted the weeping crowd by reminding the woodland creatures that “She will become part grove now, her death is a fragment of the circle of Nature. May Elune watch over her.�? He smiled at the baby and the baby stopped crying. He [bellowed, “The Goddess has taken our beloved priestess, so that a new matriarch would serve in her place. Just as night follows day and Spring follows Fall, so must we pay our respect to the Goddess' her choice.�? Therefore, the baby was named after the priestess. Her name would one night have renown before her time passed.
It was a time of innocence in the world of Azeroth. Mystery and a sense of magic blessed the acres of forest with a beauty all its own. It was as if time stood still and the innocence of youth forever graced the woods and its inhabitants. The Night Elves had never known the destruction of the Burning Legion or the disrespect for nature of the Orcs and Humans. The idyllic setting was the stage for romances and friendships.
The Night Elf priestess had been in the service of the Goddess for her entire life. Due to her intimate romance with the Goddess, she had a loving rule over her subjects. She was paid with the love from her subjects. This was all she ever needed until a fateful night. The Night Elf priestess was now fifty years old, but thanks to the influence of the Well of Eternity she still had a youthful glow around her and a pure spirit to her as well. Her melodic song flowed through the night air. It flowed, through the ancient forests where trees stood as stout protectors of Azeroth since time immemorial. It flowed too far, maybe, for it had awakened something deep in the woods. Stirring and scratching the beings heard food and they were hungry.
Dark Trolls were one of the primordial beings in Azeroth. The demi-god Cenarius, eons ago, granted the Dark Trolls with higher sentience. They were given the ability to listen to the Goddess and her ways. They were known as the Night Elves.
These Dark Trolls, however, did not know what was carried on the wind, but they licked their lips and began the hunt. A pack of three warriors rallied themselves to the hunt with morale building growls and warpaint. They sprung through the woods like Wintersabres. Their excitement peaked at the sight of prey.
The Night Elf priestess was naive about the intents of the Dark Trolls even though she was warned by Tyrande about their savagery. She beckoned the figures shrouded in darkness to join her in her communion with the Goddess. Because of her night vision she could see them clearly. She was giddy with anticipation as she watched their long, lean arms bring them closer. She felt embarrassed, because she thought she knew all the Night Elves in the community. They looked Elven enough, save for what looked like tusks. She reached out her hand in welcome while they reached their spears in the thicket. Dark Trolls and they scurried off. The Night Elf priestess was shocked when a Tyrande came out of invisibility in front of her. “For your own safety, you shouldn’t be out in the woods. I may not always have a scout out to save you,�? Tyrande sternly warned. “Why would Night Elves try to …�? “They were not Night Elves!�? Tyrande interrupted . The loudness of Tyrande’s voice quieted the soft-spoken priestess. “You are too young, my dear sister,�? Tyrande reminisced. Tyrande then went on to tell her of their people’s lineage. “They are not followers of the Goddess for they do not have the intellect,�? Tyrande derided. They departed with customary Night Elf farewells, but The Night Elf priestess stayed into the morning. By the glow of the morning sun, she had an epiphany. “They are out there… somewhere and I shall bring the grace of the Goddess to them.�?
Child of the Goddess: Mission for the Goddess
The Night Elf priestess went home to gather materials for her journey. It was an ornate shrine of wood and paper with gentle curves matching the forest’s own natural bends. She slept on a simple leaf-woven mattress lit by the moon’s iridescence every night. The silhouette of a small forest creature was waiting for her on her mattress. As she was walking towards her bed to gather her equipment, her pet owl sensed danger in her future. She paid no attention to its incessant hooting and grabbed a small statue of the Goddess.
She had walked the paths through the woods many times, but had never traveled as far as she was now. Guided by the glow of her statue, she followed broken vines and leaves in the forest. As she approached a red fire imprisoned behind the silhouette of trees in the distance, she suddenly became afraid. “These beings are destroying the trees. Could they really be so evil? Elune give me strength,�? she whispered to herself.
She leaned on a tree and looked into Dark Troll village. She shadow melded into the night, becoming invisible. Their village was made of simple tusks draped with skins. By the burning pit, she sees Dark Troll men dancing frenetically to the beat of booming drums while Dark Troll women were sitting near the huts. Quietly she crept into one of the huts, but was not alone. A Dark Troll woman shrieked in Zandali. There was a loud thump, but the Night Elf priestess didn't here it. A spear was thrown threw her head. She died instantly, but her soul lived on.
As a wisp her spirit was trapped. The glowing wisp tried to float away but was trapped by a Dark Troll witchdoctor. Her soul was trapped inside a voodoo doll. Her spirit raged and lamented inside the filthy doll of sewn hides stuffed with feathers. This could not be seen as the small doll lay lifeless on the floor of the hut. She begged Elune to free her or let the other Night Elves know of her, but her pleas seemed to fall on deaf ears.
She lost all belief in Elune. At first she believed that Elune had controlled her fate and imprisoned her here as punishment for disobeying Tyrande. She repented to Elune continuously for years. Because she had no senses to the outside world, time seemed to pass endlessly. She lost all track of time and even her own identity. After a while, all she remembered was her prayers to Elune. After still more time, she forgot who Elune was.
Many wars past but the doll remained. It was an ugly doll. It looked more like a carcass than a traditional doll of thread and wool. Its ugliness made it have few owners. It sat there for ages. The cold and bugs didn't bother the Night Elf priestess because she was essentially dead to feeling if not also dead inside.
By a long process of ownership, it wound its way to the Undercity. A ghoul was out scrounging for carcases and found the doll which it thought was a carcass. He carried it inside through the damp corridors and smell of rotten flesh. Although she didn't know it at the time, the Undercity was home to many lost souls such as her self.
Child of the Goddess: Onyx in Undeath
She was resurrected by an Forsaken in the Apothecary. As the new shipment of carcases came in, the master could sense something special. The master of the necromatic arts could tell there was an ancient soul trapped inside the doll. He was excited but cautious. Ancient souls could be powerful entities. He continued with the precaution that the soul be transferred into a weak container. He scrounged around the "fresh" carcases and found a troll that had recently died with little resistance. With a few mumbling chants, the Night Elf priestess woke.
She had forgotten everything. At first the master thought that she was speaking in demonic or something. He was scared and cast bind demon on her. It had no effect because she was not a demon. He soon realized what it was. She had forgotten everything even the ability to speak. "Poor old soul," he said.
On his way, the Undead Troll was fixated on his appearance in a pool of water trapped by the rain. He saw his huge tusks, protruding greatly and curving abruptly. His nose did the same thing but pointing down. His black beady pits where his eyes had been were filled with a ghostly green flame. This peculiarity intrigued him. He bent forward to inspect it, but turned in disgust. His face was puckered by pustules and flaking with meat from underneath his skin. "Craaack!" His jaw snapped as he tried to move it. The rigor mortis had set in. Someone heard the noise. It was Darkvoid.
The work was rewarding for the Undead Troll. Communication was hard, but body language spoke more than words could have ever hoped to. He just smiled almost instinctively the whole time. It had been almost 10,000 years since this soul had met another. The feeling was good. The void of emptiness just became filled. He could tell that Darkvoid was enjoying this too. They worked all night and day. The will of the Forsaken is obdurate.
This was the start of a romantic partnership. Dark Void laid his hand over the Troll's hand and hugged him. Now, the senses did deceive because there was a warmth between the two carcases which both of them could feel. Darkvoid decided to name the Undead Troll Onyx after the way his darkened eyeless pits glowed with a ghostly flame.
Child of the Goddess: The Goddess Smiles
After Darkvoid left, Onyx was walking around aimlessly when she was caught by both a trap and a memory. He carelessly walked into a trap laid across the floor. With a shriek in Zandali once again ringing in his ears after 10,000 years, he remembered remnants of his former life. He saw a Dark Troll woman. She was there behind the rapid dancing and Onyx was bringing her something. Still hazy though, it was making Onyx's head ponder. Onyx concluded she wanted to dance too. It was equality that Onyx was bringing her. Onyx was collecting all these jolts of his memory while stuck on the back in the net of the Dark Troll.
At the tribal village, the witchdoctor performed experimental magics on this former living Troll, extracting ancient memories. "A little dust here and frog legs there," the twiggy but vibrant old codger mumbled. The old Troll wanted to know about the inside of the Undercity because his Troll community was un-allied with the Horde, so they welcomed all types of intelligence on its activities. In a possessed state, the old troll voiced the memories of his captive to the tribe. He discussed messages of equality for women and communion with nature. When the long blank of memories came, the Troll Witchdoctor became cognizant again. He spoke with authority in this tribe. He said, "This is an ancient Troll. His memories are pure in thought. He has been brought here by providence, to teach us the ways to live. From now on we will grant equality to the women of the tribe." Onyx was let loose and bid farewell. The Goddess was smiling then. Her child had fulfilled her purpose. She was never out of the Goddess' love and never forgotten.
Searching for an Identity: Wandering
Back at the Undercity in a quiet corner, Onyx sat down to rest and reflect on his recent experience, but he could remember nothing of his past. He did not know where the flashes of memories had come from. His effective memory only spanned the time he was stitched together until now. What were the darkened humanoid forms which haunted his subconscious? These images danced around in and out of his conscious. He was searching for a personal history --an identity. Among the distant memories of his past, he could remember no specific images. It was all a blur.
Onyx started to play with the cockroaches, rekindling his love of animals. After a bit of wandering around the Undercity, he discovered a cockroach dealer's cockroaches. The dealer was gracious enough to allow Onyx to play with them with no intention of buying them. The way they scurried around over his hand and nibbled on the maggots writhing across his flesh was adorable to Onyx. They were so cute that they made Onyx light up and put his quest for identity on the side for right now. He cuddled with them like a mother would cuddle a child. After an hour, he put them down while mentally jotting down their location. He would see them again he thought.
This experience instinctively made Onyx hum a tune. Onyx could feel the slack in his muscles tighten as he formed a smile. Then, a noise came that startled him. He started to hum a melodic tune. He suddenly felt chipper. It felt enjoyable to sing, so he continued. His humming could be heard along the desolate halls of the Undercity as he strolled along the walkways.
The tune invigorated Onyx's spirit, releasing forgotten memories. He could feel the gaiety he shared with his forest friends eons ago. He could not remember the specific creatures, but the impression of idyllic visions of sunshine and flowers and love were flooding his mind. The love was the most beautiful part. His love had been so all-encompassing that he had felt like a strand of thread in a net which included all life. In his mind's eye, golden rays of light blazed down like columns through the openings in the tree's canopy above. The vision was so strong that the dreary atmosphere around him faded into the world of his memories.
Searching for an Identity: Spying on Stormwind
Varimathras ordered a Forsaken commander to gather reconnaissance on the Alliance. Varimathras lengthily outlined a plan to a commander, "The aggravating Dwarf Paladin Boldrish Ancientforger has stopped gnawing on the numbers of the Forsaken. Likewise, the Humans have also decreased their attacks as of late. After much deliberation, I believe they either are attacking each other which would be a wonderful boon to our cause or they are gathering their forces for a major attack. The latter possibility would be devastating to us, but it could be stopped if we intervene now. I would like you, commander, to lead your scouts out to search for clues."
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