Thoughts.com Blogs - Section One. Part Three.

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Section One. Part Three.

The mirror cracked from side to side. - Agatha Christie.

Azroar settled himself against the wall of the cell and waited for the troll woman to begin her tale. “In the dying days of the last war, my tribe, the Revantuks were forced out of our homeland far to the north.” Maruka began slowly. “You see what had allied ourselves with your people and when the war turned against us and most of your kind had been rounded up in da camps, our fellow trolls turned on us for our loyalty to ya.” Maruka smiled through her mask but Azroar could detect the sorrow in her voice. “I was one of the few who made it to the Hinterlands, where I pray to my gods, that our new village still thrives.” Maruka coughed as she finished speaking. “I know of your tribe.” Azroar said. “You fought with honor, there is no shame in what you did.” Azroar tugged on the chain but eventually the orc let it fall to the ground and sighed loudly. “We may have fought with honor mon, but here I am now.” Maruka laughed. “Last winter, while scouting for food for the tribe, I was captured.” Maruka continued. “It was a bad winter, we needed meat, and they sent us out to gather what we could.” Shifting her weight against the wall to make her confinement more comfortable the troll, told Azroar of her capture at the hands of the Baron, who had been on a hunting trip in the Hinterlands looking for wild game. She had been bought here and at first been slated to become a gladiator in the arena herself, but when the Baron discovered she was a Shaman, everything had changed. “A shaman!” Azroar’s red eyes lit up with awe at her words. “That’s why they keep me like dis.” She nodded thoughtfully. “If my hands are free and I can see, I can use the power of the earth.” Azroar nodded silently and waited for her to continue. Maruka explained that a shaman, able to heal the wounds or raise the dead of the Orc and other trolls and even tauren gladiators was prized, as it meant that the Baron could stage fights to the death and then use the same combatants repeatedly. “That is madness.” Azoraor snorted clenching his fist. “I will not fight for him.” The young orc said steel in his voice. “Then they will kill your fellow orcs one by one before you.” Maruka replied. “The Baron gets everything he wants.” Maruka spoke softly almost to herself. “We shall see.” Azroar replied quietly and stood up again began to work on the chain binding him to the wall. “What of you my fiery friend?” The troll asked tilting her head. Azroar threw the chain and spat at the wall. “Nothing so glorious!” The orc whispered. “But I will tell you of my journey so far.”

Phoenix did not remember waking up or even leaving the bed, she had been dreaming the strangest of dreams when finally she was able to awaken herself. Half clad in her nightclothes she was bathed in her own sweat. In one hand, she had the key to the Baron’s study. She felt her pearl choker tight around her neck, as if it was too tight, and for a moment she couldn’t breath. Mentally telling herself to calm down, the courtesan drew in and let out a deep breath, but still her hand shook. She was standing in the hall outside her bedroom. The hall was pitch black, it was still night. Struggling to make sense of what was happening Phoenix opened the door of the bedroom and entered. The fire in the grate had died down, and no light yet penetrated the curtains drawn closed across the room. Her four-poster bed lay open, the covers thrown over the floor, as if she had rushed from the room. Think, her mind screamed at her. However, no memory took shape in her mind, only the dream. In the dream, she had been on a road somewhere in the forest. The she remembered feeling pain, as if she was being ripped apart, that is when she had woken up. Starting to shiver, Phoenix moved to the decanter of fortified spirits on her dresser and poured herself a large drink. Swallowing hard the liquid burned down her throat, waking her, but also starting to settle her nerves. “I am going mad.” She whispered, her hand reaching up and pushing her hair away from her face. Looking down into her hand by the light of the dying fire, she saw the study key. What had she been doing? Her mind asked again. Taking another swallow, she considered leaving the bedroom and making her way down to the study, but decided not too. The Baron’s household guards would be patrolling and she did not intend to arise unwarranted suspicion in her lover, not yet. Sitting on the bed, she struggled to recall why she had left her room, but her mind was blank. “I need a trip to Stormwind.” Phoenix finally decided finishing the last of the rich liquid and felt it begin to work its own magic she was becoming tired. “A nice long trip and to relax.” She mumbled as she lay back and fell asleep. Around her neck, the jeweled shadowgem choker began to glow with a deep violet hue.

Authors Notes.

I have slowed down my posts, to allow others to catch up, but also to reflect on what I write a little more. I am trying to get the right feel for Maruka here. To explain what happened to her. But something is escaping me. I need to do more here. I am hoping my next post will do her justice.

The story of Azroar is part of the central theme, the characters will be drawn together in Strathlohome. Chimp, Meesa, Councillor, Azroar, Maruka and Phoenix will all interact in some fashion. Erro and Ross with Mia will add to the drama as will Jeeves. But there must be something linking them all. The idea has something to do with the poisioned grain obviously, but as yet, my thoughts havent led me to how to tie the threads together.

The quote is an Agatha Christie novel title. One of my favored authors, I read her as a teenager growing up and Hercule Poirot is still one of my greatest hero's. However in this context, its the madness of Phoenix, the story of Maruka that is cracked and shattered.... from side to side.