From the Darkness
Part 10
But unlike the other recruits, my leave was postponed by someone who didn’t like me. Sentinel Commander Ravenheart. She was the CO whom my mother reported to and after my mother’s victories at Hyjal, during the Third War, she came to admire Reyada, despite my mother holding a lower rank.
And so, after the near treasonous action I committed with the Fires of Sanctity, Commander Ravenheart felt it was her duty to punish me for the shame I’d cast upon my mother. It wasn’t until my mother was gone, that I realized how she never once mentioned being embarrassed by me. Oh, mom was disappointed and at time, angry, with me, but never once did mom say I shamed her, even though I’m sure I had.
But Commander Ravenheart had no qualms in reminding me of that. I’m the shameful offspring of a hero. I remember how seething she was when I was brought from the barrows and told of my mother’s request. I also knew that she was hoping I would fail and then be thrown back into my infernal cell. I knew it was her who had told the recruits of how I had worked for the Fires of Sanctity and how I had fought against a group of sentinels. That earned me little love from my fellow recruits.
Somehow, by Elune’s loving a forgiving grace, I managed to make it this far. And then I got the unexpected surprise of a lifetime.
When I arrived at her office, Commander Ravenheart handed a mission to me. My training isn’t even complete and I was already being given a mission. She even congratulated me on my performance during traiing and with the disaster recovery.
Perhaps Commander Ravenheart wasn’t really out to get me after all.
The mission was one that I was suitably qualified to handle. It was a simple satyr hunt and extermination; a solo job. I can handle this. Find a crimson furred satyr that had been terrorizing caravans and travelers near the Darkshore/Ashenvale border. Bring back his head and then time to party.
Simple enough.
I few days later I found the cart with three murdered bodies and the first inkling of doubt crept into my mind. Butchering doesn’t even come close to describing what this single satyr had done to his victims. Two draenei, a mated pair, according to the bands that encircled their wrists and a carriage driver were shredded and pulverized beyond recognition. The cart was utterly destroyed.
I say single satyr, because only one set of hoof prints were traced leaving the scene of the attack. A tuft of dark red hair was found under the fingernails of two of his victims and around the inside of the cart.
I left the cart where I found it and masked my own tracks as I began the hunt. He’ll pay for the atrocity he’d just committed.
That was three days ago and since then I’ve long lost his track. Frustration began mounting until just a few hours ago when I found a mutilated carcass of a doe. It was only a day old and something told me he was going in circles at a leisurely pace, supposedly looking for victims. The deer was sustenance. The victims in the cart were for sport.
He wanted more sport.
And all of this has led me to my latest spot in the highway of life; alone, in a well concealed perch overlooking a small camp. The camp and the gear strung out are mine. A makeshift dummy next to the fire is clad tightly in my cloak, leaving me shivering in the cold rain. That’s my blood that I’ve spread around the torso of the dummy. That’s also the deer that I killed, that’s slowly cooking in the fire.
The camp is decoy.
Rule #20: Patience. Raptors, lions, birds, sabers and deer all have something in common. They know how to stand perfectly still and wait for the other to make the first move. Invariably, she who can afford to wait is usually the one who wins.
Being still doesn’t come easily to us humanoids. Our minds have evolved well beyond the basics of survival. We think too much. When a deer hears a noise, it raises its head and waits perfectly still. When an insect hunts, it stands perfectly still. When we hear a noi
So, here I am, perfectly still, waiting. Water has long since seeped past the sleeveless leather jerkin and the short sleeve shirt I’m wearing. During my incarceration, I allowed my dreadlocks to grow far longer than I had intended to. Right now, they’re saturated with water and feel heavy. They’re also irritating because some of the strands are sticking to my neck. Usually, this isn’t a problem, but the silverleaf extract I’m also wearing is complicating that. When this is over I’m going to have to investigate other ointments.
And so, after the near treasonous action I committed with the Fires of Sanctity, Commander Ravenheart felt it was her duty to punish me for the shame I’d cast upon my mother. It wasn’t until my mother was gone, that I realized how she never once mentioned being embarrassed by me. Oh, mom was disappointed and at time, angry, with me, but never once did mom say I shamed her, even though I’m sure I had.
But Commander Ravenheart had no qualms in reminding me of that. I’m the shameful offspring of a hero. I remember how seething she was when I was brought from the barrows and told of my mother’s request. I also knew that she was hoping I would fail and then be thrown back into my infernal cell. I knew it was her who had told the recruits of how I had worked for the Fires of Sanctity and how I had fought against a group of sentinels. That earned me little love from my fellow recruits.
Somehow, by Elune’s loving a forgiving grace, I managed to make it this far. And then I got the unexpected surprise of a lifetime.
When I arrived at her office, Commander Ravenheart handed a mission to me. My training isn’t even complete and I was already being given a mission. She even congratulated me on my performance during traiing and with the disaster recovery.
Perhaps Commander Ravenheart wasn’t really out to get me after all.
The mission was one that I was suitably qualified to handle. It was a simple satyr hunt and extermination; a solo job. I can handle this. Find a crimson furred satyr that had been terrorizing caravans and travelers near the Darkshore/Ashenvale border. Bring back his head and then time to party.
Simple enough.
I few days later I found the cart with three murdered bodies and the first inkling of doubt crept into my mind. Butchering doesn’t even come close to describing what this single satyr had done to his victims. Two draenei, a mated pair, according to the bands that encircled their wrists and a carriage driver were shredded and pulverized beyond recognition. The cart was utterly destroyed.
I say single satyr, because only one set of hoof prints were traced leaving the scene of the attack. A tuft of dark red hair was found under the fingernails of two of his victims and around the inside of the cart.
I left the cart where I found it and masked my own tracks as I began the hunt. He’ll pay for the atrocity he’d just committed.
That was three days ago and since then I’ve long lost his track. Frustration began mounting until just a few hours ago when I found a mutilated carcass of a doe. It was only a day old and something told me he was going in circles at a leisurely pace, supposedly looking for victims. The deer was sustenance. The victims in the cart were for sport.
He wanted more sport.
And all of this has led me to my latest spot in the highway of life; alone, in a well concealed perch overlooking a small camp. The camp and the gear strung out are mine. A makeshift dummy next to the fire is clad tightly in my cloak, leaving me shivering in the cold rain. That’s my blood that I’ve spread around the torso of the dummy. That’s also the deer that I killed, that’s slowly cooking in the fire.
The camp is decoy.
Rule #20: Patience. Raptors, lions, birds, sabers and deer all have something in common. They know how to stand perfectly still and wait for the other to make the first move. Invariably, she who can afford to wait is usually the one who wins.
Being still doesn’t come easily to us humanoids. Our minds have evolved well beyond the basics of survival. We think too much. When a deer hears a noise, it raises its head and waits perfectly still. When an insect hunts, it stands perfectly still. When we hear a noi
So, here I am, perfectly still, waiting. Water has long since seeped past the sleeveless leather jerkin and the short sleeve shirt I’m wearing. During my incarceration, I allowed my dreadlocks to grow far longer than I had intended to. Right now, they’re saturated with water and feel heavy. They’re also irritating because some of the strands are sticking to my neck. Usually, this isn’t a problem, but the silverleaf extract I’m also wearing is complicating that. When this is over I’m going to have to investigate other ointments.