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Old 01-02-2012, 10:23 PM
Exxile87 Exxile87 is offline

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Default Troll’D: A Druid’s Tale of Self-Discovery and General Comedic Circumstances

Part one of chapter one. I had written it all out by hand and transcribed this part tonight. Will edit the second part in tomorrow evening. Enjoy. Or else.

Quote:
Troll’D: A Druid’s Tale of Self-Discovery and General Comedic Circumstances

Chapter One: You’re A Druid, Dajoka Darkspear!

Dajoka was fairly certain that he was dreaming; why else would everything be a strange shade of bright green? Sure, he could feel the sun warming his purple skin, and the wind caressing his long green braids, but he knew it was a dream-warmth, and a dream-breeze. He keenly remembered closing his eyes while swinging in the hammock he’d pulled from his pack and hung between two tall palm trees on Darkspear Isle. He recalled drifting to sleep as the ocean’s rhythmic splashing and the children’s laughter served as a lullaby on this lazy summer afternoon. Now, he was standing in the middle of what he was certain was an ancient forest in the Night Elf-controlled parts of northern Kalimdor.

The trees stood tall, ancient and noble. The salty tang of the ocean air that Dajoka had been breathing moments ago was now gone, the void it left filled with the sweet stench of decaying leaves and wood. No waves struck the shore in a gentle, calming rhythm, but the whistling of the wind through the tree branches carried a similar effect. This was definitely not the place he’d drifted off to sleep in.

Yes, he was dreaming alright. But why did it feel so vivid, so real?

Just as Dajoka was about to voice his concerns to no one in particular, someone spoke his name. He turned about, searching for the source of the voice, which he soon realized was in his own head. Again, his name echoed in his mind.

”Dajoka, now is a time for heroes. You’ve been allowed to enter the Dream, and must answer the call. Seek out Zen’tabra and begin your journey. I am waiting.”

At that, Dajoka woke up with a start. The sun was setting, and the Darkspear trolls were beginning to light the evening’s campfires and prepare the final meal of the day. He must have slept for several hours.

”Dis is some shit. What da fel was dat about, mon? Dat fish musta done turned...” Dajoka made his way to the campgrounds, when a blue light appeared before him.

The light coalesced, and took the form of a translucent and pale night elf male in long robes, carrying a staff crowned in the shape of the head of a stag.

“I implore you, Dajoka, do not ignore the call. The Lady Ysera has allowed you passage into the Dream. This is an honor, and a rare one among your kind. Go to Zen’tabra. Now.” The last word was said quite forcefully.

“Okay, mon, sheesh. Ya don’ gotta be like dat. Zen’tabra gonna be at dinner. I can talk to her den. Who are ya, anyway? Why ya be appearin’ to me like dis?”

“Zen’tabra has the answers you seek, troll. Find her.”

Dajoka threw his hands up and huffed loudly. “Ya night elves be a stuffy bunch. I’mma go an’ talk ta Zen’tabra and get some answers, metinks.”

“That’s...I just...fine. Do that.” The night elf disappeared, leaving Dajoka in darkness once more.

“Damn, dat guy got a few issues.” Dajoka once again started for the campgrounds.

Upon arriving at the fires, now blazing with the furious intensity of fires being stoked by a skilled shaman, Dajoka’s eyes hungrily searched the crowd for Zen’tabra’s face. Surely the Darkspear representative to the Cenarion Circle would be here tonight. Druids ate dinner, didn’t they? Dajoka spent several more minutes searching for the she-druid before hunger forced him to call off the hunt. Falling victim to the allure of the tables of food before him, Dajoka set himself to the task of digging in with vigorous enthusiasm.

There was roast boar brought in from the swine farms outside of Orgrimmar, fresh bananas, mangos, and oranges picked from the trees on Darkspear Isle, all manner of aquatic life that had been fished from the fruitful seas, and more exotic fare. Dajoka recognized some slabs of rhino meat from the beasts native to Northrend, salted zhevra from the Barrens, and an odd looking meat that smelled strangely like gnoll.

He had only just sat down to enjoy some of this astounding feast when suddenly he was in the dream state again.

This time, Dajoka found himself to be on Darkspear Isle still, yet the buildings and trolls were no longer present. The islands were unsettled and unspoiled, a perfect snapshot of a world untouched by war and mortal concerns. It was startlingly beautiful. His eyes hungrily consumed the scenery that surrounded him, intent on devouring every detail. He scarcely had time to bask in the glow of such beauty, however, when Zen’tabra materialized before him.

She stood a few feet away, her face serene and mirthful, with a humorous twinkle in her bright eyes. Her long, green leather robes were ornately tooled and extremely well-detailed. She carried a simple staff topped with a golden disc and a few colorful feathers that radiated a strange energy; powerful, yet calming. Dajoka felt both comforted and intimidated all at once. After a long moment, Zen’tabra spoke.

“I know ya been called, brudda. Dere not be many of us Darkspear druids yet, but we be growing in numbers. Ya should be honored and humbled ta be among da chosen.”

“I be confused an’ seekin’ answers, sista. Yestaday, I was on da fishin’ boats and getting’ ready ta be tried by da Loa, and now you and dat night elf be sayin’ I been chosen. I don’ know what to tink ‘bout all dis.”

Zen’tabra smiled knowingly and nodded.

“You not alone on dat. Many of da young druids are untried an’ unproven, but dey be learnin’, as you be learnin’ when ya answer da call.”

“I don’ be answerin’ no call till I be knowin’ who be callin’. Can ya tell me, sista, what it is I gotta do ta get my head aroun’ all dis?” Dajoka’s usual laid-back and playful attitude had been replaced by bewilderment and confusion. The frown he wore now was unnatural and uncomfortable, and served only to worsen his mood.

“Ya need to come an’ see me in Moonglade, Dajoka. I be showin’ ya many tings when ya get here. For now, enjoy ya dinner. I be seein’ ya soon enough. Now wake up.”

Dajoka’s eyes snapped open, and he shouted. He threw his hands into the air, tossing his very full platter of food high into the air. It landed on the table before him with a loud “PLOP!” and he was keenly aware that every eye within about thirty yards was focused on him. An elder troll male spoke up.

“Ya been too long on da fishin’ boats, boy. Ya got a bit sun-touched, ain’t ya been?” The assembled trolls had a good laugh at his expense, and Dajoka couldn’t help but join in.

The rest of the evening passed without issue. Dajoka had laughed along with his troll kin, made a joke about eating some bad fish for lunch, and sampled the gnoll dish (it was fantastic).

After the meal was over, the adult trolls left the young ones to clean up the mess and headed to the campfires to talk about recent events. It had been both a difficult and exciting time for the Darkspear tribe: on the one hand, Thrall had left Garrosh Hellscream to lead the Horde, and the ogre of an orc had spit in the collective face of the tribe. They’d been forced out of the center of Orgrimmar, made to take up residence in the slums. His people, once valued members of the Horde, now shared a polluted and festering swamp with the diminutive and psychotic goblins of the Bilgewater Cartel.

On the other hand, his tribe had finally retaken their home in the Echo Isles, and Vol’jin, along with the Darkspear druids, had removed the insane Zalazane from power. There was also the small matter of the return of Deathwing, the escalation of the war against the Alliance, and the whispers of the rise of the Zandalari.

It was an uncertain future to be sure, but by no means a dark one.

The talk soon turned from the seriousness of current events to more lighthearted and generally more trollish topics: the thrill of a particularly good kill, remarks on how it was much warmer now than usual, and the best techniques for spearing fish. On Darkspear Isle, one could find a small slice of peace and sanctuary from the ailments of the outside world...provided they were Darkspear trolls or any member of the Horde who was not called Warchief.

Dajoka left the fireside chat as the full moons reached their zenith, and headed back to his hammock by the shore. He lay back, looking up at the clear skies and blanket of stars. He remembered the unspoiled island he’d seen in the Dream. As beautiful and pure as it was, his last conscious thought was that he’d take the version he called home over it any day.

He awoke the next morning feeling refreshed and rejuvenated. In fact, he felt better than he could remember feeling in a long time. As a young troll, he’d been frail and sickly, and he’d never really outgrown that. His body still ached, but he’d managed to find ways to deal with the pain. Somehow, though, he felt none of it this morning. It was as if he were...dreaming.

“Ah, to da Nether wit dis shit, mon! How ya gonna keep pullin’ my ass into da Dream like dat, Zen’tabra?” Dajoka yelled to the empty air.

“I ain’t Zen’tabra, whelp, and ya bes’ be showin’ some proper respect to Gonk. I come to show ya da powers ya can posses, so mind ya tongue. ‘Less ya wanna be losin’ it.”

A great raptor bounded up to him. The beast was huge; Dajoka had to stand up straight and tilt his head uncomfortably far back to make eye contact with it.

No, not a beast, Dajoka corrected himself. This was a Loa. This was Gonk, the Great Hunter. Stories of the raptor Loa had been passed down from the Darkspear’s Zandalarian ancestors, for an untold number of generations. Gonk was known to be a fierce warrior, cunning hunter, and wise teacher, but also fickle and something of a prankster. Dajoka knew he’d best be careful here.

“Forgive me, Loa. I don’ wan’ to offend ya. Da last day or so been...a bit confusin’ ta me.” Dajoka bowed deeply. Gonk made a noise that was equal parts chuckle and growl.

“Well boy, ya need ta be workin’ on dat. I gonna teach ya da methods a druid be needin’ to get started, and I don’ like no soft-brained students. If ya be ready ta learn, take a seat. If not, I ain’t had my breakfast yet.”

Dajoka gulped and sat down.

“No need for da threats, mon. I get it. I be ready ta learn whatever it is ya got ta teach me.”

And the lessons started. Gonk talked at great length about the spirits of nature and how they related to the more familiar spirits the shamans Dajoka had known communed with, and how they differed. The Loa told him of the origin of the Dream, its purpose, and a druid’s responsibility to protect and police it. Dajoka listened in rapt attention, silently taking in all the new information.

After a long while, Gonk stopped talking. He simply nodded at Dajoka, and faded into the wind. Dajoka was left alone in the Dream, his mind still reeling from all that he’d learned, the weight of his charge pressing down on him. He didn’t shrink from it, however. He’d never been the sort to run from something that scared him. He steeled himself against the fear and doubt, and put a smile on his face.

Zen’tabra had told him to come see her in Moonglade. He figured that was as good a place as any to practice the skills Gonk had taught him. He closed his dream-eyes, and opened the ones that belonged to him in the waking world. He noted that it was still early morning, the mists still clinging to the ground, not yet evaporated by the bright sun.

To his pleasant surprise, he found that the pains he’d lived with for most of his life were indeed gone, and he had been invigorated with the energy of life. Gonk had told him he’d feel different, but he hadn’t mentioned that “different” meant “better.”

Dajoka busied himself with filling his pack with supplies for the long trip north to Moonglade. He imagined it’d take him a good three days by raptor. He considered taking a wyvern, which would cut his travel time substantially, but decided against it. Wyverns were...tricky and he wasn’t the best flyer. Better to keep his feet closer to the ground.

When he finished loading his pack, Dajoka mounted up and pointed his raptor north. He took a deep breath and held in the salty tang of the sea for a long moment, then reached out tentatively to the tendrils of nature magic he was now aware were surrounding him. As he caught hold of the invigorating energies, he felt as though he could make the trek to Moonglade on foot, in the snow, uphill, with one arm tied behind his back. He laughed loudly at the image, which caused a young troll female to jump and squeal a shocked yelp. Dajoka laughed even harder, nearly fell off his raptor, and righted himself. Now it was the little female’s turn to laugh. Dajoka gave her a nod and a smile and yanked on the reins.

His journey was officially underway.
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Last edited by Exxile87; 01-22-2012 at 08:26 AM..
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Old 01-02-2012, 11:03 PM
AndyJP AndyJP is offline

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Yes. Yes. More. More!
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Old 01-03-2012, 04:55 AM
Orifiel Whitedeer Orifiel Whitedeer is offline

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Quote:
Originally Posted by AndyJP View Post
Yes. Yes. More. More!
This!
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Old 01-03-2012, 07:16 PM
Exxile87 Exxile87 is offline

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Update incoming. Adding it into the original post. Also adding some paragraphs to increase the descriptiveness and setting detail into the original body, so it'll be worth another read for those interested in having the picture painted for the,
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Old 01-21-2012, 12:24 PM
DarkAngel DarkAngel is offline

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Ah, a new project! Always good to see.

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he could feel the sun warming his purple skin,
What kind of Troll is he?

Are you capitalizing race names, or not? The first time you do, but not always. Either way is fine, just pick one.

Actually, the Echo Isles wouldn't be islands at all in the Emerald Dream, but I'm giving you a pass on continuity because this is a comedy.

Now you're making me curious. What does Gnoll taste like? I suppose some people eat dog...

Something struck me here: the Darkspear have a feast like this every night?

Quote:
whispers of the second rise of the Zandalari.
A second rise? The way I remember it, everybody else left them.
  • the Night Elf-controlled parts
  • This was definitely not the place he’d drifted off to sleep in. That is what you meant, right?
  • allowed to enter the Dream,
  • “Damn, dat guy got
  • ornately tooled and extremely well-detailed.
  • laughed along with his troll kin,
  • clean up the mess, and headed
  • time for the Darkspear tribe: on the one hand,
  • generally more trollish topics: the thrill
  • and headed back to his hammock
  • unspoiled island he’d seen in the Dream.
  • ass into da Dream
  • The beast was huge: Dajoka had to stand
  • be needin’ to get started, and I don’ like
  • Dajoka was left alone in the Dream, his mind
  • “different” meant “better.”

Two recurring issues are bothering me:
  1. Some proper nouns still require an article. This article is capitalized under the 'first word' rule when written on a map, sign, or heading, not otherwise. You never see something like "I heard The Washington Monument has some cracks in it."
  2. You keep using semicolons in a certain context where full colons are better. Conclusion: Explaination The semicolon is more like a strong comma or weak period used to link ideas that don't neccessarily have a causal relationship.
Other than that, I love it. It doesn't rush; it doesn't drag. The flow is admirably smooth. Good work!
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Old 01-22-2012, 08:17 AM
Exxile87 Exxile87 is offline

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Such high praise. I'm flattered and humbled.

As to the continuity issue with the Echo Isles not actually being present in the dream, I admit that I'd not considered that. I'll explain it away by having Zen'tabra tell Dajoka that she constructed a pocket in the Dream to the young troll druids feel more at ease there. Or something. Druids can do that, right?
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Old 01-22-2012, 01:38 PM
AndyJP AndyJP is offline

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At first I was like "There is no update, lies!" And then I saw that you added it to your main post.

I was thinking that Dajoka might end up like Zen'kiki, a druid that really doesn't know what he's doing... but Dajoka seems more competent in the second part.
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Old 01-22-2012, 08:49 PM
Exxile87 Exxile87 is offline

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Quote:
Originally Posted by AndyJP View Post
At first I was like "There is no update, lies!" And then I saw that you added it to your main post.

I was thinking that Dajoka might end up like Zen'kiki, a druid that really doesn't know what he's doing... but Dajoka seems more competent in the second part.
Things are happening. Dajoka's a druid of a different leaf (lol). I'm gonna ignore talent trees and all that gameplay bullshit in my story, and just make him a genuinely cool druid character. Sure, I play him as a Feral (bear) in-game, but in the story, expect to see him healing, summoning treants out the ass, and ripping out throats as a day-glo kitty.

But my beloved bear form will be making an appearance or two.
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