8/14 Dash

Wincing from the bruises she’d gotten in the last set of jousting, Arisia sighed, taking care not to breathe too deeply and move her sore ribs. She was tired of aching, tired of the multitude of injuries, aches and pains that seemed to be par for the course since she started her time here at the Argent Tournament. She’d been proud to have been invited; training to be part of the force that would take out the Lich King was an honor.

Well, she’d felt that way until her first broken rib. This wasn’t gentle weapon theory craft; if you had been invited, you were deemed to be amongst the best, people that often carried the title of “hero” in smaller cities. You were handed a lance and told to go use it against those much better than you, knowing that it was experience that gave the best lessons. Having left her hawkstrider back in Silvermoon when she and her brother traveled to Northrend, her riding skills were rusty and fight after fight ended up with her on the cold packed earth of the jousting ring, knight sneering down at her discomfort.

You either broke, or became a tempered weapon, and in less than a week, her falls were cut in half, the face sneering down at the unhorsed rider more and more her own. As the days passed, she grew stronger, more sure of her skills. She’d shouldered all the different assignments; there were undead to slay in multitude using skills both old and new and it never seemed to end. In the end, this was really why she’d become a wandering adventurer… she’d wanted to do more, be more, and in the end, fighting Arthas’ army felt like the job she’d been training for all along.

She bowed to the Valiant she’d just unhorsed, and turned her riding beast down the path to turn in the last seal of the day. A scroll awaited her, and the assignment upon it chilled her– she wasn’t ready, not yet! Arisia tried going to the Troll who’d written out her orders, but he was impassive. She’d done her time under the others in that group, and even thought Trolls gave greater scrutiny to Blood Elves, none had a quibble with the work Rissa had been turning in.

She walked out of the tent, and looked at the mount still waiting for her to put him back in the general corral where all Valiants chose their training mounts. Patting its cool hide, she admired her mount. He was a raptor, the usual mount of a Troll, and one she’d never ridden until this training had begun. Dash, as she’d named him, having to chase the swift moving beast around the mount corral every morning, had become her favored mount. He was a soft lilac and blue color with glowing turquoise eyes.  Strong and proud, he pranced as he walked, making the tiny bells on his harness chime softly in the icy breeze, tiny pale blue feathers fluttering as he walked. Her jousting seemed better as she rode him, the raptor moving with the slightest shifting of her weight and so he was the mount she chose for her final test, a one on one joust with a well trained Champion.

Biting her lip, she rode Dash up the hill to the testing arena. The raptor snorted and tossed his head, making his feathered headdress sparkle in the early morning light, but he settled down with a single pat. The hunter moved to the Herald waiting for her, and her opponent was called. She’d had a fight like this before, but the last time she’d been permitted help, and an experienced knight had come in to her rescue. This time it was all her, the skills she’d learned, and an impassive opponent on the other side of a lance.

The sparring began with a ringing blow, both moving into attack positions. Rissa felt her shields hold, and she swung her lance into every hole in the Champion’s defense. They rode hard around the ring, the fighting never letting up and both the Champion and Arisia were even in scoring until Arisia faltered and the Champion swung a heavy blow to her right side. Rissa swore, frantically trying to remake the shields that would shelter her from the blows raining down on her, unable to take the time to control her mount. The hawkstrider she’d ridden the last time had bolted when something similar had happened during her first Champion joust, but the assist from the other knight had given her time to get that mount back in control. This time, Dash was given his head.

But rather than run, the raptor dipped his head and HISSED angrily, shifting in a dance that moved him out of the Champion’s reach, giving his rider time to not just reset her shields but settle her pole and swing a blow at the Champion. Rissa grinned ferally and bent low, guiding Dash with her knees, and turned the fight back on the Champion until the knight raised his hand in defeat. Rissa pumped her arm in triumph and cheered, Dash roaring along with his rider.

The knight grinned at her, removing his helm to reveal one of the masters of the stable. “You know, you’ve earned enough marks from your training to keep him—it’s not often one of these mounts bonds with their rider.”

Nodding, Arisia patted the soft hide of the raptor’s neck. “He’s a treasure indeed; I’ll be by later to transfer the credits.” Bowing her head, she turned her mount back down the dirt path. “Right now, we’ve training to do, Sir Champion; the storm is coming, and the wise prepare.”

Nodding back at her, the knight trotted up another path. Rissa took a deep breath, ignoring the pain, and sighed, this time in worry for a battle more serious than a chase around a training ring. “Let’s go, Dash—time to get back to work.” The raptor snorted, stepping into a fast trot, the soft chiming of his bells gentle music soon covered by yet another rising wind.

Hooked

Flying through the driving icy Northrend wind, Arisia scowled. Yes, she needed the gold that doing this job would bring, and yes, it would be a fairly easy one with so little shot of injury that she’d left her brother sleeping warm in his bed back at the inn– his healing not really needed, she reasoned, so why should both of them be up at the crack of dawn shivering.

She’d gotten a knock early at her door; one of the local fishing trainers, knowing her skills, had passed her name to the healers. A fisherman had been injured hauling in some moonglow cuttlefish, and lost his arm. Before the crew had time to react, a distasteful boat following monsterbelly had nabbed the arm and any hope of reattaching it lay in getting it back within the hour.

It promised a tidy sum of gold, and having a healer owing you was never a bad thing, and so she found herself glaring at the map the captain had drawn, urging her windrider to buck the chill winds and hover near a towering iceberg. She reached for the potion of waterwalking she’d grabbed from her pack and hopped off her mount, shivering but landing atop the ice-rimed water. A few Northrend penguins made their odd noises at the young blood elf hunter, but soon found her silence boring and waddled off. Rissa rolled her eyes, and reached for the fishing pole slung on her back, glad she’d even left her pet home– no one deserved this cold… and to think, it was close to the end of Spring! Back in Silvermoon, they’d have greenery and days that bordered on the over warm without a breeze. Scowling at the thought, she turned and cast, and began fishing in earnest, using all her skills in the hopes to tickle the monsterbelly with the arm to strike.

Cast after cast, and while she pulled some very saleable fish up, including some monsterbelly, onthing like the one she needed. Arisia began to worry– the potion had a short lifespan, and she’d only taken the one, assured that it would be a fast catch. A sound made her spin on a heel, and she snarled, seeing a sharp-toothed monsterbelly harassing something just under the tip of the iceberg. Sliding the pole back into the holster on the back, she withdrew her gun and fired, killing the three fish, and letting whatever they’d been harassing escape. She nodded, put the gun away, and made another cast.

A frighteningly huge and amazingly ugly monsterbelly kited to the surface and hit the lure. It’s eyes glittered silver malice and Rissa swore it HISSED as it struck. She pulled, reeling it in when the ground gave out from under her feet. She  struggled, the bitter icy water soaking her clothing, and the waved crashing over her, filling her lungs. The hunter kicked frantically and hit surface, grabbing a lungful of air, turning to see the monsterbelly headed her way– an arm not enough for this bloated behemoth. She grabbed for the floating fishing pole, her gun floating just out of reach, her mount making creeling noises from above, but no help in any fight.

Arisia set her jaw, cold beyond measure, feeling wooden and knowing the water was leeching her strength, but that the monsterbelly was not just going to go away. She pulled the pole towards her when *something* struck it from underneath. It breeched the surface, and flew into the air, and before Rissa could react, the darkness under the water reached her and flowed beneath and she felt herself lifted on something knobby and oval, and blessedly out of the icy ocean water. A huge golden eye blinked at her as the sea turtle turned to nudge her to get on better and the exhausted Hunter complied, feeling the same soft touch her other mounts made as they carried her. She scooped the gun as she passed, and smiled as the turtle paused for her to gather in the now dead bloated monsterbelly.

Dismissing her winged mount for the moment, Arisia let the sea turtle take her in to Unu’Pe where the friendly Tuskarr gathered and made much of her, taking her inside to get dried and warmed. As she dismounted, she paused to gently pat the top of the sea turtle’s head, knowing that had been the creature she’d rescued from those earlier monsterbelly, and had been repaid with a rescue in his turn. She touched his mind lightly and felt him calm, pleased, and patient, unlike most her other mounts. She got the feeling he’d wait, and was proved right half an hour later, insisting her need to return to Dalaran with the monsterbelly for the healers. He did not go off with the other turtle mounts the Tuskarr patrols rode, but waited patiently for her. Rissa grinned and softly uttered the dismissal spell that sent him ahead of her to Dalaran where she soon followed via her heartstone and after leaving the Inn, the softly uttered summons made him reappear, brightly blinking at her and bobbing for her to mount up.

Rissa giggled, and did so, pausing to scritch the top of the soft wrinkled hide of his head, bending to impulsively hug him once before hopping atop his shell. “You feel like a Herbie, you know…”

The turtle made a soft warbling honk and began waddling forward as Rissa leaned that way, the Hunter quickly learning how to guide her new mount. She had the bloated monsterbelly wrapped and ready for the healers, but felt the best reward for the morning’s effort was the new friend she’d brought home.

Changes

“I’m cold” Arisia shivered, trying to pull her cloak around her tighter, to no avail. Her brother Caylon turned around to glare at her, blowing his long forelock out of his eyes and trying to maintain his temper.

“You’re ALWAYS cold, Rissa—get used to it; Northrend is freaking cold, and it is never going to get warm again.” He attempted a teasing tone, but inwardly winced when it came out a bit sharper than he’d intended. He smiled a small smile at Rissa, who nodded; shoulders slumped, and moved in front to take her turn breaking through the snow.

Rissa looked down at her side and frowned. Once again, her pet had gone off on his own. Grinding her teeth, she sent the mental call to bring him back, but the reply was irritated, and sulky. She wished fist for patience, and then for the wolf that would normally be pacing with her. Sardonyx was stuck in Dalaran with the pet woman; he’d had a rough fall at the end of their last job, and while Caylon could have healed it, the wolf had worked hard and needed a bit of a rest. With her huge orange tiger nursing a litter of cubs, she’d been forced to pull her remaining Pet from the stable in Silvermoon.

Al’Shar, whose name meant brave warrior was indeed a warrior—an immense tiger whose stripes had a teal hue, and whose eyes lit up like blazing blue aquamarines. Arisia had been lucky and tamed him rather than take his life nearly a year ago, but something about the taming had never jelled. Where her other two pets saw her as the leader of their pack, Al’Shar insisted on remaining apart. It was nearly impossible to read his emotions, and he was slow to all commands. Rissa had gone to her teachers and asked for aid, but they informed her that sometimes a Hunter and their Pet did not come together—but since she had a natural rapport with felines that Al’Shar should eventually get along.

Slowly, he’d accepted her as mistress, but today he’d reverted to his old behavior; he was easily spooked, and had been wandering far from her. Rissa frowned and sent another call to her Pet, and this time she felt agreement, with the tiger soon bounding up and joining her in making the trail. After growling once, he shivered, and danced in place to shake the ice from his feet, reminding Rissa that for months the tiger had been living in the warmth and comfort of Silvermoon, and had lost most of the thick fur he had when she first tamed him. He seemed embarrassed, and was broadcasting affection until Rissa paused and smiling, rubbed the top of his head. She turned and looked back at Caylon.

“He doesn’t like the cold either; he might be from Winterspring, but even that snow is less chill. He’s sorry now, though. Me too… I know I get wearing, Cay…”

The priest shook his head. “Hey, it happens; my robes are a bit warmer than those leathers, dearheart; let’s get this job done, turned in, and I’ll treat for a night in an inn.”

Nodding once, Rissa turned back to the trail and then sent Al’Shar up the wide bank of stairs coming up, using his eyes to scout. She knew it wasn’t the safest thing to do, as it left her vulnerable, but the area had seemed empty. Reaching the top of the stairs, Al’Shar began scanning the area and catching scent. Growling sharply, the tiger tensed, spotting several mounted warriors, and for her part, Rissa withdrew with the command to return. She nodded once, and tightened the straps on her travel pack, glancing at Caylon. “Trouble at the top of the stairs.”

Caylon nodded and the pair sped up, Rissa relaxing slightly when Al’Shar rejoined them, eager to fight. She worried slightly, knowing that Al’Shar was not as battle ready as Sardonyx had been. He was a natural fighter, but her skills had changed since they’d last partnered. The climb was hard, and both Caylon and she needed to pause to catch their breath, staying in the shadow of one pillar. Rissa peered out, and saw two mounted undead trolls ahead and signed for Caylon to keep back. He was just as able as her for a fight with the undead, and she needed a wide angle for a clean shot to take out at least one of the pair.

As she fired her crossbow, Al’Shar bounded past her, hitting the rider in front and dealing damage with both tooth and claw. He’d hold them so she could shoot safely from a distance as long as he could; Rissa moving closer and spitting out a curse as she spotted what her pet had missed. Another pair of riders were coming in from the left and as they spied Rissa and Caylon, they dove forward. Caylon tried to hold a shield on himself, knowing that he needed to heal both Rissa and her pet to get through this fight. Arisia mumbled and activated several spells that made both herself and Al’Shar a bit stronger, even if it would mean a need for rest immediately after the fight. Alternating arrows with both sword and axe, Rissa became a whirlwind of mayhem, leaping nimbly in and out, feeling injuries hit and heal alternatively. Al’Shar was working hard, but his inexperience was showing, his coat rent with wounds but his thoughts were clear and strong, insisting he was fine.

Rissa spun and finished the first pair, including the mounts that fought as hard as their riders and barely pulled one of the remaining riders and mounts off her brother who flashed her a grateful look before he concentrated and continued healing Al’Shar. Rissa surreptitiously threw some of her own healing ability for her pet to ease the strain on the priest, but noted with horror that one of the demon possessed cats that had been in the distance had heard the battle and was trying to power Al’Shar to the ground even as the rider and mount were hitting from the other side.

She dove left, then right, and freed herself from the fight she was in, raising her crossbow and rapidly firing several times, muttering spells to make them flare into different colors until the mount and the cat fighting Al’Shar fell to the ground, She nodded, letting him continue his battle with the undead rider and turned back to reengage with the warrior about to swing at Caylon. This wasn’t as easy a fight as she had thought, and her attempt to pull back so she could fall back and fire her crossbow was unsuccessful. She stumbled and nearly fell as she felt Al’Shar fall. It had happened before, to all her Pets, but Arisia hated that blow it dealt her—as if she had somehow failed them. She saw Caylon’s stricken look, and was about to call out that she would take care of it when his eyes widened with horror.

Tucking and rolling, she saw that Al’Shar had not been able to kill the warrior he was fighting, and he was coming over, and another of the feral demon cats was coming in at the same time. ‘I can’t DO this, she panicked, and then a spell came to her.’ She fired rapidly at both that warrior and the cat and began the extremely complicated ‘Heart of the Phoenix’, a spell she’d just learned that would bring her dear Pet back immediately, even in battle. As she bit off the last of the spell, she felt the rush of power that heralded one of Caylon’s powerful spells and she staggered again.

Her brother fell to one knee and the warrior she had been fighting before swung at him, but Arisia moved in a great jump, feeling the muscle in her leg wrench as she left the ground. Before she could cry out, the rush of Al’Shar’s thoughts covered her as he rose again, but he felt … different. She heard a dark, evil snarl, and as she finished off her warrior, felt Al’Shar’s exultation as he fought, filling her with a rush of energy and affection. She knew he’d won his fight, but was unable to stand, half crouched on her good knee, whimpering as Caylon wiped the blood from his vision, then bending and healing the torn and damaged muscles in her leg.

Warm fur rubbed her exposed arm as Al’Shar offered comfort, but Rissa kept her eyes shut with the pain, ignoring Caylon’s gasp, figuring he would complain at her after she was healed how badly she had mangled herself. The warmth faded and she slowly flexed her leg, still keeping her eyes shut, trying to test it before standing, Finally pleased, she grinned up at her brother, pulling back her his stricken face.

“What?” She turned and gasped herself. The warm body next to her was unknown to her—the fur was like liquid silver, the eyes burned with a dark red fire… and yet, the scent was known, and when he made a soft sound and headrubed her arm, she knew it had to be true. She blinked. “Al’Shar?”

The cat sat down before her and made a soft chiming sound, then reached out a paw to playfully bat at the sack of treats she always wore to reward her Pets after any fight. She turned to look at Caylon, who blinked back at her, wide eyed, and as she pulled several treats from the bag and tossed them to the happy silver beast, she turned back and winced, seeing the ravaged blue tiger laying lifeless on the far side of the path.

Slowly she walked on leaden feet, unable to reconcile the cat bouncing at her side and the body that she was soon standing before. A tear ran down her cheek, followed by more, as she squatted before the fallen tiger, running a hand over the soft fur that was growing stiff as the blood froze in the cold rising wind.

After a cautious sniff, the silver cat bounced off, disinterested. He sent a thought that he was going to run a perimeter to keep watch, and Arisia shivered. She felt a hand on one shoulder, and looked up into Caylon’s sympathetic gaze. The priest swallowed, and finally spoke.

“I only tried to raise him, Rissa—I had no clue it would do this…”

Swallowing another shiver, trying to pull herself together, Arisia wiped the tears that were freezing on her face. “It was a combination, I think… a freak one… I used ‘Heart of the Phoenix’ when you tried to resurrect him, Cay… somehow it made him find the wrong body.”

Understanding dawned in Caylon’s eyes. “And now he’s in that one… do you think we can reverse it?”

The Hunter shook her head. She gently stroked the fur again. “This is dead, Caylon – truly dead, not even a hint of a spark of his spirit. There is nothing there to call him home.”

Caylon was about to comment when a scream from one of the feral demon felines stopped him. He looked down at Arisia after biting his lip. “They scent the blood, Rissa… we’ve got to leave.”

Standing, Arisia looked around frantically. The ground was deeply frozen, no way to dig a grave. She turned back to the body of the tiger, eyes widening in horror and she took a step back. She looked at Caylon in abject horror. “I can’t skin him… oh Cay, I just CAN’T!” Her voice cracked and she shivered uncontrollably.

Her brother shook his head and he pulled her into his arms, soothing her. Al’Shar, in his new, sleek form appeared as if from nowhere and he pressed into Arisia from behind to offer warmth, flooding her thoughts with love. Caylon stroked his sister’s hair one last time to settle her and stepped back. “No, you can’t.” Taking a deep breath, Caylon reached and, dazzled as he as, each time he touched the Light, he summoned Holy Fire. It consumed the fallen tiger in moments, and the wind rose, taking the ashes away, giving the body back to the land itself. He smiled down at his sister, who managed a slight smile. He patted her hands, suddenly awkward. “It was the least I could do for him.”

Arisia nodded, and looked down at the cat that looked eagerly up at her, totally at home in this frigid, hard land. “Ready, Al’Shar?” He made a soft warble and turned, eager to continue. Taking a deep breath, she realized she was warmer too, the chill no longer being sent by her Pet. She squared her shoulders and began moving once more – Northrend changed everything that it touched, she thought, wondering how she herself would fair by the time their time there was done.

A Little Fall of Rain…

The stale crunch of charred, crumbled earth under Arisia’s feet startled her. She shivered a bit; Shadowmoon valley rubbed her the wrong way. Nothing lived here– the unearthly beings that prowled around, the mutated creatures that prowled… nothing here resonated to her Hunter senses, senses that she’d come to depend on during her travels with her brother. At her knee, her wolf, Sardonyx whined a question, his eyes flashing as he took in scents.

“S’ok, Donni… we’re just waiting on Caylon… then we’ll be out of here.” The slender blood elf rested a hand between jet ears, and soothed him mentally, that touch easing her own nerves as well.

Sardonyx turned his head and made a low sound, tail moving slowly, welcoming coming from his thoughts as a Windrider landed and Arisia’s brother dismounted, resettling his robes before nodding his greeting. Rissa grinned, letting Donni bound forwards and dance around Caylon, the priest finally rolling his eyes and giving the ravager dog he’d carried from Shattrath city for that very purpose.

“He’s a mooch.” Caylon observed, wiping his hands clean and refolding his handkerchief before coming over to his sister. “And why am I here? You left early this morning from the inn with just a scrawl saying you were coming to Shadowmoon… quite a trip from Northrend.”

Rissa blushed. “I… I’m getting a mount; thought you might like to be here.”

Caylon mock sighed; he’d known that she would, but it was his duty to torment his sister. “I thought we were waiting until we would take the cold weather trainining in Dalaran in a few months.”

Arisia toed the earth looking at the pattern her boot was making in the ash. “I got tired of not being able to do the cooking jobs the goblin offers every morning. He gives out special recipes– things that I can make to help us when we take jobs… but so many of them need you to fly places that the trained paths don’t reach.”

Chuckling, Caylon patted his sister on the cheek, rubbing his thumb on her jaw. “Get the mount, kitten. If we need gold, I have extra.” His eyes lit softly with amusement.

Smile lighting her own peridot eyes, Arisia nodded and looked down at Sardonyx. “OK, Donni; stay here with Caylon.” She reinforced the command with her thoughts, the wolf curious, but agreeing. He always listened… until she needed him; at that point, he’d help her and nothing could stop that.

Hands going behind her back, Arisia walked over to the riding trainer. The orc was older, battle scarred, and his demeanor was gruff. As the blood elf arroached he hawked and spat to the side. “If you have the gold, I can train you not to make a fool of yourself on a mount. But you’ll need to talk to the cow yonder– Dama Wildmane’s her name if you want to get a mount of yer own, got it?”

Nodding once, Arisia held out the script for 800 gold, redeemable at the Crown cities, and Olrokk took it, examined it carefully, then handed it to the mage next to him. After running his fingers over the script, the mage nodded. “It’s clean.” Olrokk grunted in reply and looked Arisia up and down. “You know the basics, but I’ll teach you the things you need to know for a Wind Rider who is not trained for livery… and know this, elf, you fall, you die– mebbe your fancy pants priest there will bring you back, but falling is something you got to avoid. Come with me…”

The spent most of the day on a pair of moss colored Wind Riders, and Arisia was achy and tired by the time they were done. She also made a landing that got a gruding smile from the riding trainer who patted her on the back roughly, a could of dust coming off her armor with the blow. “There you go, Hunter — you know all I can teach you for now… come back when you want to learn how to control the fast ones, aye?”

Arisia smiled broadly, her smudged face lighting up once more. She did a half bounce and impulsively hugged the Orc who sputtered before giving an awkward hug back. “Go ON wit’ ya, elf– go talk to da Cow now!” He shoved her gently to the Taurean waiting on the far side of the paddock.

The hunter scanned the area, noting that her brother and Sardonyx had settled on a bench and were companionably sharing lunch. Waving once, she swallowed the shyness threatening her yet again and walked slowly to the Mount Seller.

The taurean bowed gracefully, smiling softly. Every time Arisia dealt with the Taurean she felt her spirits rise. So many of them were one with the planet, and this oneness was very relaxing to be around. “I see you had your trainining, Huntress… do you have the coin for one of my mounts?”

Nodding once, Arisia offered the script for the hundred gold. The Taurean folded the scroll and put it into her pouch and put an arm about Arisia’s shoulders. “Come… meet my wingkittens.” As the entered, the Wind Riders waiting looked up, expectantly. Some immediately lay back down, but one came over, barbed tail wagging slightly, ears perked forwards, wide golden eyes sparkling and full of interest. He was greyish, nearly a blue tint to his hide. A bit of a husky Wind Rider, he had a full chest and a thick mane of silvery blue fur and after sniffing delicately towards Arisia, he did a very feline stretch and then reached out with a paw playfully.

Hand shaking slightly, Arisia took a step away from Dama and crouched, holding her hands out to the Wind Rider, reaching out with her Hunter’s sense. It was a shock, not exactly like the way a pet felt after she connected with it, but the Wind Rider was part of her. He was happy, eager for them to fly together, and he felt pleased that Arisia had chosen him. Bouncing forward, the Wind Rider gave her a huge headbutt and mumbled softly, a gently purr rumbling from him. Arisia felt Sardonyx move up and both animals touched noses, greeting one another.

The Taurean chuckled. “I think you found your mount, then Huntress. When he hatched, he was named Twilight Rain; but I think if you talk to him, you can change the name if you wish.”

Arisia beamed at the Taurean, fingers scratching the velvety soft fur near the Wind Rider’s tulip ears. “He likes his name; it’s a bit long, but I think we can cut it to Rain most times.”

The Wind Rider made a ‘hruff’ sound and then roared happily. Dama proferred tack, showing Arisia how to saddle her new mount, and offered a shining whistle. “Normally, I tell new owners to use this to call their new friend, but with your gifts, Huntress, just call him and he will come.”

Rissa nodded, mounting. She used the magic to send Donni on to where she was headed in Shattrath, and then gently pulled on the reins. Rain purred louder and rose, hovering perfectly. She thought about Caylon, and before she could turn him, Rain spun and dove towards the Priest who backed up with wide eyes. Rissa giggled as Rain gave Caylon a headbutt as well, then licked him.

“GAH!” Giving Arisia a mock glare, Caylon reached out and itched the hovering Wind Rider under his chin. “Charming… I think I’ll wait…”

Giggling, Arisia urged Rain to slurp her brother once more, which he did happily. “Isn’t he adorable?”

Laughing, Caylon wiped his face and started towards the flight master. “Go, do your cooking thing– I’ll meet you in Northrend.”

In a moment, he was gone. Arisia followed, but the hired mount was swifter and soon left Rain far behind. She felt a pang, thinking how she’d only see her new friend rarely until they could afford the cold weather training and treatment but then shrugged. Rain would wait, and he’d be there when she needed him– like her other pets, he was part of her now, and a little bit of waiting would be fine.

Regrouping…

Many weeks have passed… Rissa and her brother have traveled many roads, nost recently to Nagrand, and soon… to Northrend. Their stories are soon to come!

Puppy Love

She shivered in the chill breeze that clawed its way over the broken ground right into the unsheltered stone passageways of the Hellfire Ramparts. Arisia pulled her cloak tighter, wanting nothing more than to go back to Thrallmar where her brother was to meet her, Caylon having returned to their home city of Silvermoon for some training. Rissa had meant to spend the time alone resting, repairing her armor and trying once more to train the angry Ironhide Devilsaur she had attempted to make her own, but her dreams had been interrupted night after night by a calling that reached to her soul.

Something was out there, needing her, reaching for her, calling over and over until finally, even her days were filled with that threadlike pull at the back of her every thought. It had finally brought her here, high on this chill stony platform, not knowing what lay through the gate ahead. Knowing herself outclassed, she had begged the aid of a gracious Troll Shaman, powerful and well able to make this exercise easier. She was waiting now for the woman, and hoped she could back the other woman up adequately.

Rissa looked up at Malachite, the devilsaur looking around suspiciously. Rissa had to admit, this was not a good taming; he had never really gelled with her, and was always unhappy. She promised him his freedom, and began the elaborate spell that would send him back to his home, wiping his mind of having been with her so that he could return to being the majestic creature she had wanted to make her own.

The spell began its work, but it would take some time, and during that it was best to keep Malachite close so no one else could try and steal him, or worse, slay him since their bond was so thin. She soothed the devilsaur, tossing a treat to the beast, and slowly he calmed.

A lovely windkitty landed on the rampart, and let the rider off before roaring affectionately and taking off to wait for his mistress. Ruiki smiled at Arisia, eyes sparkling. She had been in this place many times during her own early years as an adventurer, and thought she knew what Arisia had claimed to have calling to her. She was always happy to help those still learning, and so had offered her help.

Arisia stood tall, and bowed, and the pair went into the gatehouse. Ruiki called to the Earthmother and summoned mighty totems, and moving like a great spirit herself, tore through the guards who threatened the pair. Arisia, a bit frightened by all she was seeing for the first time soon gathered herself and she sent in her pet, helping the shaman as best she could.

They soon crossed the shaky hanging bridge and Ruiki paused, turning to Rissa. “That which you seek is right ahead; I will take care of the guards, and another, you simply call to the other who calls to you.” She pointed to a patrol marching with a pair of huge ebony war wolves, both heavily armored, their eyes glowing like blue stars in the jet fur. Rissa’s jaw dropped, but as one saw her, she felt filled with the joy it sent to her. No longer frightened, she nodded back at Ruiki.

A soft warble came from Malachite, and the final part of the spell to release him activated. Like smoke, the devilsaur shimmered away. Rissa felt the joy he felt as he reappeared in the Un’Goro Crater he adored, the last touch of their minds before he once again ran free. Ruiki smiled again, nodding her approval at this, her own spirit having felt the fierce creatures sorrow at being paired with the hunter. Rissa looked again at the war wolves and carefully used her Gift as a hunter to draw the Hunter’s Mark on the one who reached to her again and again in her thoughts.

“I will take the one on the left; he needs to come to me.”

She chuckled, but the shaman nodded, pleased. Every time one of the Earthmother left slavery and came to the light, the world became a better place. She summoned totems anew and pulling lightning from the sky, began taking out the guards.

Even though he yearned for her, the war wolf was still mind chained by the handler and so he attacked Rissa, his mighty jaws slashing at her, the only thing saving her the mail armor she wore and the healing totem Ruiki summoned to aid Arisia.

The fight to free the wolf was harder than anything Rissa had done before, but she felt the terrible pain the wolf was suffering, how he yearned to run with her and how he was trying to break the control he was under. Together, the battle, though fierce, had the ending both needed. Like the ringing of a bell, the control broke and the war wolf raced eagerly to stand beside his new mistress.

Rissa dropped to one knee, burying her face in the thick ebony fur, hugging him tightly, the wolf whimpering in joy, tail wagging wildly, trying to lick her again and again. Ruiki laughed when the wolf raced to her and offered his thanks to the Shaman as well. Rissa joined her new friend, hugging the troll tightly.

“You have no idea how much this means to me, Ruiki!”

Smiling, the shaman rubbed the feathery soft fur on the war wolf’s ears, then patting Rissa on the cheek. “The Earthmother smiled on you both; go—run and be one. Let me know what you name this one.” Giddy with joy, Arisia nodded and as the Windkitty swooped in and took Ruiki back to her guildhome, the new pair of hunter and wolf raced off into the plains of Outland.

Chilling, Isn’t It…

Tired, filthy, and hungry, Arisia wondered why she was out walking the streets of Orgrimar rather than in the room next to her brother, Caylon back at the inn. A sharp headbutt to the hip and she jerked, and grinned ruefully, looking down at the large orange tiger pacing next to her. “I know, Solstice, you’re hungry — we’ll get you some fresh meat and then I’m taking a bath, got it?”

The tiger sent a rush of affection to her mistress, along with yet another insistence of hunger, just in case her point hadn’t been entirely understood. She noticed the man ahead of them and moved in closer to his Hunter friend, mumbling to get her attention. Rissa looked up, alerted, and shrugged. He was an Orc, hardly unique here in the Orc Crown city, and while he was overdressed in furs and wool, winter was coming, as was the zeppelin to the new icy land of Northrend. He was wobbling a bit, walking as if drunk, but again, that was hardly unique.

She entered the Drag, a darker road that had an overhang that sheltered those inside from the weather as they went to various other parts of the City. Finding the butcher she preferred was easy, and Arisia was glad that the  man was still open. She tossed a thick steak to her tiger who carried it outside proudly, and then made arrangements with the Butcher’s wife to deliver more fresh meat for the next three days to her room at the Inn. Before she left, she’d be in to grab a few stacks of the richly dried and unseasoned meat the vendor sold, perfect for times when she and Solstice could not hunt for the cat’s dinner.

Rissa was making smalltalk as she finished paying for everything, listening lightly to the pleasure her cat had at a fine dinner, as well as curiosity that followed. Rissa made her farewells and walked out, only to see the man bent over the tiger, softly patting it. He had piles of bundles on the ground, and had shed the thickest fur he was wearing. Rissa tensed, but then relaxed when she realized Solstice was enjoying the attention. Being that the tiger was quite choose about those she would even approach, this was unique. She walked over and smiled up at the older orc.

“Her name is Solstice; mine’s Rissa”

The orc bobbed his head, eyes bright with joy. “Had one like this when ah was a young’n; best damn pet ever. Tum kept me safe until he were as gray as I is now. Good pick, Hunter. Good pick.”

Smiling with pride, Rissa looked at her beloved cat and nodded. “She surely is, Sir; and she knows it.”

He nodded again, then turned and looked at the sacks. “Its hard to be startin’ out, neh?”

Ruefully, Arisia nodded. “Oh yes; my brother and I do the commissions out there, but… well, you know the drill– new equipment, new mounts, food… and he’s a priest– holy. He needs all sorts of things to do his job. But we manage; Solstice and I keep him safe, and he keeps us safe.”

The orc grinned. “It’s smart of you, Hunter; travel with a Priest, you save on heals! But still…” He dug through the bundles and dropped two into Arisia’s hands. “Here; you can sell these– some crackpot mage’ll give you good gold… or, keep them. You can never have enough things to keep you safe.”

Before she could object he bent once more and ruffled Solstice’s ruff, and scratched in the perfect spot behind her ears. “Yah, you picked good — safe travels, Hunter. See you in Northrend soon…” And moving swifter than Arisia thought someone his age would move, he strode off.

Bemused, Arisia slung the bag over her shoulder and made her way back to the inn, Solstice happily prancing alongside. They walked past the innkeeper, nodding, and went up the stairs, pausing and walking into her brother’s room. Caylon looked up, irritated at first, then grinning a welcome when he saw who had walked in.

“Take a bath before you sit on my bed, sister — you look like you rolled in muck.”

She nodded, then put the sack on the floor. Caylon walked over and dropped to one knee to poke at the sack. “What’s this? It has a magical aura of some sort…” At the second poke the bag rolled and two spheres rolled out. Both had a rich blue glow, the surface a patchwork of what looked almost like bone. Caylon picked one up and carried it to the desk to poke at it, nodding as Arisia explained.

“Did he say what they WERE?” He tried casting a spell on the sphere, but it just harmlessly reflected it back. The slender blood elf tucked a long silky strand of jet hair behind a gracefully pointed ear, narrowing his eyes to glare at the ovoid, poking it with a finger.

Arisia sat on the floor, folding her legs under her. She rubbed her forehead, moving the pale gold curls from her eyes and shrugged, picking the other oval up and setting it in her lap. “Um.. no; be Solstice liked him and you know her– she’s a good judge of people. He said we could sell them, but I’ve enough gold for now… and can always use something else to keep us safe while traveling.”

Caylon nodded. “Agreed; I wonder how they work– a spell? Or is there a potion inside?” He tapped the sphere with the stylus he’d been using, and a ringing chime filled the room. The glow intensified of both spheres until the light was nearly blinding, and both siblings picked up their spheres, Solstice not moving, just watching both calmly as if this was nothing to her. Rissa moved to throw hers when a cracking noise made her pause. She pulled it back to her as the light began to dim and tiny cracks appeared and then the sphere itself began to dissolve.

BLinking, almost blinded when the light abruptly faded, leaving the room lit only by the fireplace and the single lantern Caylon had lit before, both siblings blinked and tried to focus at the small creatures clinging to their hands. Rissa peered down in confusion as hers tilted it’s head, blinked luminous blue eyes at her, then flapped the wings that unfolded from it’s back and hovered before her, chirping affectionately.

Caylon’s did the same, and the Priest looked at his in wonder. “It’s a sort of tiny dragon, Ris — not the most prepossessing thing, but it’s rather sweet.” He laughed when a moth flew into the open window from outside, drawn to the light and the dragon turned it’s head, spitting out a blast of icy breath that froze the insect in mid flap. “Frosty little bugger, aren’t you.” The dragonet warbled in reply, and Caylon laughed again. “I think I just named mine.”

Rissa giggled, then stood; ready now for that bath. “You can introduce him to your cat, then — and I’ll hope it doesn’t freeze Boo. I’ll call mine Icicle; keeping with the cold theme, and it fits those sickle shaped fangs in his mouth.” She felt pleased, and grinned even broader when Solstice huffed up at the dragonet playfully, ducking a breath of cold as the pair began to play. She nodded at her brother and went to the room across the hall, looking with pleasure at the full steaming tub the innkeeper had placed while she was talking to Caylon.

As she soaked, she watched her pets play and began to think. The orc was right– Northrend would be coming soon. They were nearly done with all the job offers the Plaguelands could offer them; once her contracts were fulfilled, there was the portal to Outland to check out, and then… the hunter blinked, sleepily, finishing her soak and washing up, eager for the warm bed waiting. Northrend would call… and she and Caylon had a small part of it with them already… the young hunter could hardly wait for the adventure to begin…

Arisia If

The druid started towards Arisia, but Caylon cut him off. “What the blazing hell do you mean it won’t come off?” He moved up and began pulling at the pendant himself until his sister shoved him away with a grimace.

“Leave OFF, Cay– it’s stuck to my NECK, not a treestump…” She glared at her brother, then at the druid for good measure before walking over to a seat and floipping into it. Carefully she ran her fingertips up the pendant, then the slender chain, frowning.

“It’s not stuck in bits, only when I try to pull it off… and the damn jewel is annoying me; it’s cold, and every time it hits my skin it feels like an iceball.” The hunter sat back, sighing. “Soooooo.. what do we do?”

Caylon looked at the Druid who shrugged and looked back. “This is not my sphere of expertise, young priest– but there is a mage in a nearby village who might know.”

Managing to not groan at the thought of even more walking, Caylon nodded, swung his pack back to his shoulder, then held a hand out to his sister. “C’mon, midge… let’s start walking now… we might make it by nightfall. Which way are we headed, druid?” he spoke to the older man without looking; he’d done that part of the job, and dismissing him as important seemed the right thing to do.

“North; the village is Raven’s Corner.”

Caylon rolled his eyes. “Charming…” He waited for Arisia to stomp in front of him, then got himself mentally ready for yet another pointless wandering.

Arisia Ie

The druid sagged more than sat on the bench behind him. Arisia returned the arrows to her quiver, but did not give Whisper the command to relax. Nodding once at Caylon, she moved to a seat across from the older elf and waited while the man gathered his thoughts. When he spoke, his voice was raspy, weaker, but clear.

“It has been several moons since I last heard anything from my brethren. I… I’m sorry child… it was just… when you entered, you looked like one of those accursed Wavechaser naga that have taken over the old observatory… you really did…”

The man shook his head, then raised shamed eyes to Arisia’s. His gaze shifted downwards and his brows drew together. Tilting his head, he almost reached out, a low growl stopping him from moving further.

“What’s that you are wearing, child?”

Arisia reached to pull off the pendant, then made a face. Caylon raised a brow, and even Whisper turned his head when his mistress began jerking at the thin golden chain in irritation.

“It was this stupid necklace we just got from something but…” She began jerking at the chain even stronger, then drew her knife to fruitlessly hack at it to break it before turning to her brother. “THe damnned thing won’t come OFF!”

Arisia Id

Arisia blinked, shocked, then winced back in reaction as a shield of magic shimmered around her. Scowling, she turned to look at Caylon, but her brother was firing bolts at the druid, chanting determinedly as he ducked the magic bolts being tossed at both of them from the man still in shadows.

Whisper flashed in and out of sight, a whirling dervish of claws and teeth that seemed to finally affect the Druid. He stopped firing at both elves, trying to grab at the shadowcat to stop the attack. Pulling several arrows to form a killing bolt, Arisia forced herself through the shield and aimed the arrows towards the older man’s throat.

“Whatever your problem old man, I suggest you stop.” Arisia snarled, fear shoved down under the anger at the greeting they’d gotten.

Pausing, the druid looked at the hunter as if seeing her for the first time. Ris mentally calmed her cat who moved back to her side, tail lashing and low growl in his throat as the cat kept watch. The man shook his head, rubbing his eyes with his hands and sitting down as if his legs would no longer hold him. “I… what came over me?”

Caylon folded his arms and moved to stand next to his sister. “I’ve no clue old man, but you might want to figure it out before we leave; I believe you owe my sister an apology.” Like Whisper, the Priest watched the druid for an untoward move. Something had happened, and neither cat nor brother would relax just yet…