Believe that change is coming soon (for orithore)

[ginnalka]

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.

Comments

[ginnalka]

Abu'jia doesn't quite laugh, not wanting to antagonize her friend further, but she does smile a little, no real humor in the expression, just a slight baring of her tusks. "Does he actually have any friends besides the Warchief?"

That comes out surprisingly smoothly, considering her current opinion of Sylvanas, but it's not quite as bad a taste as calling Garrosh that ever was.

[orithore]

"Point taken," she allows, deflating slightly. "Nathanos was always a dour man, even before his death." A little warmer, maybe, but maybe not. She was never so close to him even before.

[ginnalka]

Abu'jia still looks faintly amused. "I can't imagine him another way."

She pauses a beat. "And what brings tha two of you here?"

Before they just get into circles about Nathanos's sense of humor - or lack thereof.

[orithore]

Atrosas hesitates for a moment before offer, "Apparently not all are loyal to the Warchief. I was asked to keep an eye out for anyone who might be acting against the Horde's best interests."

That's vague, she knows, but -- well, there's a lot going on. She's not sure she, herself, agrees with everything Sylvanas is doing, but there has to be a reason behind it all. The Banshee Queen is nothing but a brilliant strategist, and she's never been anything if not loyal to her people, whether that was the elves of Quel'thalas or the Forsaken after. There has to be a reason for everything, even if she can't see it.

(She can't see a reason for trying to strip Derek Proudmoore of his free will before sending him on home.)

[ginnalka]

Abu'jia doesn't quite tense, tilting her head to consider the other hunter. She knows Atrosas can't know what she was thinking about before joining them by the fire, but, well.

She hums, thoughtfully, reaching out to stir the fire as a long shifts, sending up a shower of sparks. "Blightcaller passed me the same warnin'. We've been a bit busy setting up new camps. Haven't had much luck finding those dissidents yet." A beat. "Have you?"

[orithore]

"No," she answers, mouth pressing into a thin line. She sits there for a several seconds like that, clearly displeased -- though even she's not entirely sure by what at this point -- and then she ventures, "This entire campaign has been ... wearying."

[ginnalka]

Abu'jia keeps a hand on Idai's head through Atrosas's pause. She wants to believe this conversation won't go anywhere either of them will regret, but, well. It wouldn't be the first time she had considered treason, and it also wouldn't be the first time someone she thought an ally tried to put a knife in her back.

When Atrosas speaks again, Abu'jia lets out a weary chuckle, smirking around her tusks. It's a tired expression, though, lacking in actual humor. "'Dat be an opinion we be sharin'," she returns, almost daring to relax. "You feelin' pulled in too many directions?"

[orithore]

"Something like that," she allows, mirroring the smile and the exhaustion behind it. She feels her loyalties being pulled in too many directions and she doesn't particularly like the feeling. Up until now, it's been so easy to trust in Sylvanas, her sister, her savior -- but now?

She shakes her head faintly, the smile evaporating.

"Perhaps I'm getting too old for this."

Maybe she should bow out and find a nice little homestead to claim out in the Plaguelands like the Blightcaller did so many years ago. Maybe she should make way for the newer Forsaken, still unflinchingly loyal to the Banshee Queen for their existence. Maybe some distance would bring some clarity, and dismiss her rising doubt.

Maybe, but she doesn't think that kind of life is for her. She can't understand how Nathanos sat idle for as long as he did.

[ginnalka]

Abu'jia nods again, slowly. She pauses for another long beat, her eyes steady on Atrosas. "If I were to be suggesting another turn at disobeying our leadership, would I need to be worried about finding your arrow in my back?"

Enough dancing around it. She wants to trust Atrosas - but until they address it outright, she's just going to keep second-guessing.

[orithore]

"Suggest it and we both may have an answer."

Which is to say even she's not sure.

Either way, a heavy sigh follows, and then at length, she admits, "There are orders the Banshee Queen has given as of late that I question the wisdom of. What's more worrying still is the fact that I seem to be the only one who is ... unsettled."

That's not quite the word she wants, but it's what she goes with all the same.

She's also not sure how the rest of the Horde feels about some of Sylvannas's more recent decisions, but she's not talking about them when she says she's the only one. She's talking about the people that matter -- Nathanos, her fellow Dark Rangers, and so forth. The fact that Abu'jia both fits into that category and seems to agree, however, is nothing short of a relief.

[ginnalka]

Abu'jia waits out the sigh, waits out Atrosas's hesitation - and then nods.

She sags a little on her log, unspeakably relieved. She's so glad this isn't going to end in them trading blows and blood; she's lost too many friends already. "There be rumblings. Quiet ones, but they be out there." She pauses a moment before she goes on. "What d'you know of the Banshee's Wail?"

That's where all this started after all, and it will be the easiest place to begin comparing notes.

[orithore]

Atrosas blinks deliberately, closing off a little again despite herself. "It's one of our battleships. I believe the Blightcaller is running his command from there."

She knows more than that, but she's hesitant to say. Never mind the fact that if Abu'jia is asking about it in the first place, she probably knows all about its significance.

[ginnalka]

Abu'jia rolls her eyes at herself. "Right. Forgot that'd been da start, not de endpoint. Y'know of the recovery missions launched from her? Meant to find Valentine, found someting else instead?"

[orithore]

"Proudmoore," she supplies sourly, walls dropping again as quickly as she had pulled them back in place around her. "The Dark Lady planned to strip him of his autonomy and use him against his former family."

If the Proudmoore name is a curse, Sylvanas's title is one, too, in this moment.

[ginnalka]

Abu'jia nods. "You already know how we-" Trolls, she means "-feel about tings comin' back from tha dead when they shouldn'. Seen too many of my people see their loved ones comin' back under Zalazane, tryin' ta kill 'em in tha night, had to put down too many who shoulda stayed down the first time."

She shakes her head. "Couldn't let that one stand, zanmi."

[orithore]

"I remember what it was like to be under someone else's control," she says by way of agreement. She remembers how terrible that loss of autonomy was, if only in hindsight, perhaps. She'll have to live with the memory of killing her sisters and eagerly for the rest of her unlife. "I would have thought the Dark Lady would, too."

[ginnalka]

Abu'jia nods, humming agreement. "You would think." She pauses a beat. "D'you think someting mighta happened? To Sylvanas, I mean. Someting t' make her act this way?'

Abu'jia trusted Vol'jin, trusts still that he had reason for naming Sylvana Warchief instead of Baine or one of his own inner circle. She wants to hope that this isn't just another mistake, like Thrall naming Garrosh.

[orithore]

Lips pressing together into a thin, unhappy line, Atrosas takes a moment to consider that. She's not sure which explanation she likes less -- that Sylvanas has lost her mind or that there's something, somewhere controlling her. She's not sure which explanation Sylvanas would like less, if she could see herself from an outside perspective.

"It would not be the first time we were forced to serve," she offers finally.

It's possible, if nothing else, as much as she hates to admit it.

[ginnalka]

Abu'jia makes a discontented noise behind her tusks, eyes on the fire. "Dere be no shortage o' dose wit' da proper magic for it."

She turns her head and spits to the side, making clear her opinion of those who dabble in that kind of magic.

"Dere's been talk of takin' Proudmoore back t' where he should be," she confides, finally, because that is something she's heard whispers of, even if they are only whispers for now.

[orithore]

"To the bottom of the ocean?" Atrosas scoffs. She's all for letting Derek Proudmoore retain his autonomy, but, "His kin will never willingly take him back."

No one welcomed them home with open arms when they broke free of the Lich King's control.

[ginnalka]

Abu'jia laughs - she can't help herself, letting out a sharp noise of amusement. "If dat be where he wants t' go. But I tink dey be tinkin' more of... letting de Proudmoores make dat decision. Instead of de Banshee, I mean."

She won't be surprised if the Proudmoores don't want him back, considering the fact that he is supposed to be dead. But that will be there decision to make.

"If dey do decide not t' keep him, 'least he'll be buried in de family's way."

Instead of lost to the ocean.

[orithore]

She hums, still in no way optimistic, and lapses into silence for a moment. When she breaks it, a tilt of her head prefaces, "Is that why you're here, then?"

To find and free Derek Proudmoore?

[ginnalka]

Abu'jia shakes her head. "No. Or. Not at dis time. Still a lotta details to work out, an' it be somewhat above my paygrade," she returns, flashing her tusks in another grin.

She sobers a little a moment later. "I been asked t' take part. Just not sure what dat part be yet."

[orithore]

Another small, accepting noise passes her lips. Another silence follows as she struggles with her own part in all of this.

"I don't think the Blightcaller needs to know about this," she decides, finally. She's not sure she's ready to stand against the Banshee Queen just yet, even if she disagrees with the madness that's brewing, but she can't stand against Abu'jia either. Not when their autonomy -- Derek Proudmoore's autonomy -- is as much a pillar of Forsaken society as the Banshee Queen herself is.

[ginnalka]

A rush of air goes out of Abu'jia at Atrosas's response. She might not have been aware she'd been holding it, but it takes a lot of tension with it all the same. "Thank you. I be lackin' in friends dese days. It'd be nice not t' lose one more to dis."

[orithore]

"You're welcome," she offers, simply. She may not be as quick to admit it, but she considers Abu'jia something like a friend, too.

"And in the meantime ... " Maybe they should talk about something else that isn't Derek Proudmoore, just so that she has some plausible deniability if Nathanos does ask her about it. Or maybe she's looking for an out because she really doesn't want to keep thinking about Sylvanas and whatever madness has gripped her, right now.

[ginnalka]

Abu'jia hums - and then nods. "Y' been keepin' busy? How y' been findin' Zandalar?"

It's not entirely a shift in topics, but it does at least open a door to get them off Proudmoore specifically and into catching up.

[orithore]

"I saw one of your fellows eating a Goblin my first week here," Atrosas notes with some small amount of amusement. Clearly, she approves of that, if nothing else. That's as far as she seems willing to comment, however, instead turning the conversation back to Abu'jia. "This is your people's homeland, though, is it not?"

She seems to remember reading that all trolls originally came from Zandalar.

[ginnalka]

That response actually startles a laugh out of Abu'jia, and she grins at Atrosas across the fire. "If you hadn't seen dat already back home, den you hadn' been hangin' 'round da right parties."

Her grin fades a little and she nods, humming agreement. "Not so long before my time. Vol'jin had seen it. He an' his father and Thrall led de Darkspear to Kalimdor from de islands when dey were lost to attacks from de outside."

Those attacks are some small part of her hatred for the Alliance, considering the part they had played in many of them.

"It's interestin', bein' here. Feels home but not."

She knows this is where her people came from, feels it in her soul - but she's not from here.

[orithore]

"Like Silvermoon feels, now."

She's knows it's not the same -- Silvermoon City was home for her, once upon a time, unlike Abu'jia and Zandalar. It's as close as she can get to being able to empathize with the feeling, though. Silvermoon feels like home-but-not because it was once upon a time. No matter how welcoming the remains of her people have been, however, it never will be again.

"I wonder if a part of you mourns this place like I do." Like she mourns Silvermoon.