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To say that trolls on the whole are superstitious is a fair summary that few of them are likely to argue. It's also why if anyone had told Abu'jia when she was a child that she would come to call one of the Forsaken one of her closest friends, she would have insisted someone had been working some kind of voodoo on them. She had always been slightly wary of the undead - anything that came back from death was unnatural and probably cursed or hexxed and she didn't want to be around when Bwonsamdi showed up to take them where they were supposed to be. When Saurfang summoned her and one of the Banshee Queen's rangers in Northrend to give them a scouting assignment, it was only her years of working with the Forsaken in the Horde that kept her distaste from showing.
When she found that the two of them worked together remarkably well, she actually managed to forget her old biases in favor of getting shit done.
After Northrend, Azeroth proves itself to be a small world, and the two run into each other more often than Abu'jia would have expected. As time passes, their occasional chance meetings turn into planned nights at taverns or local celebrations.
By the time Teldrassil burns, Abu'jia considers Atrosas one of her closest allies, if not one of her closest friends.
Abu'jia doesn't see much of the Dark Ranger during their time in Zuldazar (partly because she's a bit busy being gleeful to be surrounded by the Zandalari, learning of their history and their loa). That changes when the Blightcaller summons her. Her glee is slowly replaced by a sense of forboding. She wants to think the best of the warchief, wants to ignore the creeping doubt slowly making its way up her spine, but.
She's been at this for over twenty years, now. Her instincts are well-honed, and she's learned not to ignore them. Her doubts prove well founded when Sylvanas makes known her plans for the body of Derek Proudmoore. She has just seen the pain caused by Zelling's attempted reunion with his family; while she has no great love for Jaina Proudmoore, the idea of weaponizing such a thing is more than her sense of honor can bear.
The real kicker is that it won't even be the first time she's committed treason against a corrupt leader.
Who to reach out to is the first problem to be solved, and as she sets up camp one evening, it's the question she turns to.
"What do we do, my friend?" she asks Idai lowly in Zandali - and the cat just opens his mouth widely in a yawn that has her chuckling, leaning down to scratch behind his ears - and then sitting upright and grabbing for her bow as something moves just outside the ring of firelight.
When she found that the two of them worked together remarkably well, she actually managed to forget her old biases in favor of getting shit done.
After Northrend, Azeroth proves itself to be a small world, and the two run into each other more often than Abu'jia would have expected. As time passes, their occasional chance meetings turn into planned nights at taverns or local celebrations.
By the time Teldrassil burns, Abu'jia considers Atrosas one of her closest allies, if not one of her closest friends.
Abu'jia doesn't see much of the Dark Ranger during their time in Zuldazar (partly because she's a bit busy being gleeful to be surrounded by the Zandalari, learning of their history and their loa). That changes when the Blightcaller summons her. Her glee is slowly replaced by a sense of forboding. She wants to think the best of the warchief, wants to ignore the creeping doubt slowly making its way up her spine, but.
She's been at this for over twenty years, now. Her instincts are well-honed, and she's learned not to ignore them. Her doubts prove well founded when Sylvanas makes known her plans for the body of Derek Proudmoore. She has just seen the pain caused by Zelling's attempted reunion with his family; while she has no great love for Jaina Proudmoore, the idea of weaponizing such a thing is more than her sense of honor can bear.
The real kicker is that it won't even be the first time she's committed treason against a corrupt leader.
Who to reach out to is the first problem to be solved, and as she sets up camp one evening, it's the question she turns to.
"What do we do, my friend?" she asks Idai lowly in Zandali - and the cat just opens his mouth widely in a yawn that has her chuckling, leaning down to scratch behind his ears - and then sitting upright and grabbing for her bow as something moves just outside the ring of firelight.
