Tashorr's blog

Tashorr’s smile was always the least obedient part of him; always popping up at inopportune times, getting him into trouble, making people think he wasn’t taking them seriously, or betraying his true intentions.  The female shu’halo in front of him that was showing him the tailor-made dress, finely-woven silk and mageweave dyed rich red and yellow, was in danger of seeing that smile.

“It beh a simple robe, fah sure, but it beh fine,” Tashorr said, pulling his eyes into a pleading look as he kept his smile in check.  “Mah wife look good dancin’ fah da spirits wit’ dis, but I nah got dat much.”  He shook his head sadly, sighing as he reached a hand out for the dress, stopping just short of touching the fabric.  He lowered his head and let his shoulders slump.  Jus’ like fishin’, now reel ‘em in slow, Tashorr thought to himself as he turned to leave.

I'll show 'em useless!  Tashorr fumed as he stalked through the undergrowth, moving quietly despite the fury that gripped him.  He breathed in a deep breath of warm jungle air, trying to calm himself to keep focused on moving silently.  The sea witch was sending her murlocs against the Darkspear, and they'd refused his help!  He was thirteen years old, nearly a Darkspear man!  His scowl darkened further as he made his way through the jungle.  The murlocs had stopped coming for a few hours now, but everybody knew the sea witch was just calling up more.  The bright green plants only waved slightly as he stalked by, his fur blending in with the foliage.  Tashorr's fury softened as he grinned.  I'll show 'em useless!

Tashorr’s teeth were bared, his eyes wide with panic.  His lynx companion, sensing his distress, was at his side, snarling.  He pulled his knife free of the wolf’s body, looking down at the prone figure that he was standing above.  Yunari’s body was cold and pale, her left hand a bloody mess, a great wound still bleeding despite having been wrapped up hours ago.

“Chief!  She’s hurt!” Tashorr shouted, the voice rough, fatigue and hours of screaming had worn it away.  “We need help, chief, she’s lost a lotta blood!”

“Just go away, you horrible thing!” the elven shopkeeper screamed, slamming the door.

Tashorr shook his head as he walked away from another shop in Silvermoon.  It seemed he’d come all this way for nothing, shop after shop insisting that what he wanted from them was impossible.  His face twisted in a grimace as he walked, listening to the soft wind.  He ground his teeth, frustrated by the hours he’d spent walking around, talking to every shopkeeper.  The bright colors and ornate gilding were starting to give him a headache, and his stomach began to growl loudly as he walked down the crowded streets of the Bazaar.

The gentle night sounds and surge of the ocean shouldn't have woken him up but Tashorr knew he wouldn’t get back to sleep. He turned his head, looking at the troll woman next to him. He smiled as he looked down on her, her delicate tusks, her long legs and the curve of her body. His smile changed, turning into a frown as he remembered uglier things.

The hideous smell emanating from the red-eyed, thick-bodied troll sitting in the tent was starting to wear on Tashorr. His lips were pulled back from his teeth in what he hoped appeared to be a friendly smile rather than the angry grimace he felt.

"We been here a few hours now, I don't know what else ya want for ya daughter. I’d think ya be relieved not ta have to care for her no more."

Yun’s father scratched his chin thoughtfully, swaying slightly as he sat back on his heels. "She be mah only daughter, since me wife died she me only comfort," he said, lifting the jug in his hand and taking a swig.