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Joft-troll shaman
0 reviewsJoft is just trying to finish his shaman training soon he finds out that his cousin has married out of fraction, he is looking for love and dealing with the effects of the elemental upheaval. Just ...
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Chapter One: Orgrimmar
The dawn was just peaking over the massive orcish city, though it never really slept, it was growing even louder as more of the inhabitants began the endless rebuilding of the city. Most of the walls were covered with scaffolding. The city was still recovering from Deathwing’s return to their world. It has been slow process for they were far more determined to build stronger and better than before. Instead of the place, Joft remembered it, a place where friends gathered after a long day, Orgrimmar had a military stiffness that infused in all the inhabitants.
Joft pushed those unhappy thoughts out of his mind as he rushed over the harden road, his dark waist long braids trailing behind him. The troll danced around an orc guard that had stepped out of the tanner shop, the shaman left a word of an apology in his wake which was wasted on the grumpy male. Joft tightened his grip on the books that were nestled in his long arms. He willed his legs to move faster, his spirit was willing but his body had other ideas. He remember a time not long ago, he could run all day without much bother. Now a jaunt from his room at the inn to his teachers flat made him sick.
Joft turned around the corner into the Valley of Spirits, a troll dominated suburb. It was nestled close by the goblin slums which had a nasty taste of burning metal and other things he didn’t know the names of. All he did know was that it smelt bad and made him even sicker if he lingered nearby too long. Part of the reason he couldn’t take his Aunt’s offer to stay at her flat during his lengthy stay, and why he was staying on the other side of the city.
His bare feet slapped against the wooden walk that had been built over the marsh that had spread over the entire area, another result from the cataclysm that hit their world. The trolls flats were wooden platforms that were in several levels up the walls of the city, they were covered with a hide or canvas over a wooden frame for privacy. The flats were richly decorated with the bright and bold patterns of the Darkspear tribe. Stringed beads and other colorful fabric made up the doors, which were mostly tied open to allow the warm breeze heat the interior. The trolls that were already milling about were in equally vivid color clothing, unlike the young shaman who wore a simple linen shirt and pants. His more stylish clothing were laying in his truck in his rented room, he just didn’t have time to change this morning.
Joft was working so hard to keep his bundle from spilling and not knocking into people off the narrow boardwalks, he didn’t notice an orc warrior riding his wolf down the path. Joft looked up at the last moment and flung himself out of the way. His feet sank into the soft earth giving him a buzz from the earthen element in the back of his mind. The cold water around his legs sang of energy before the temperature was noticed by the shaman. The orc laughed as he continued down the boardwalk, the political tensions between their peoples seemed to make the orc’s even more rude to his kind. Joft gritted his teeth, he pulled his foot free from the clinging mud with a loud squishy sound.
“Joft,” a deep voice called from the edge of the boardwalk. “What in the name of the elements are you doing in the muck?”
It was good to hear his own language again, being running around with other members of the Horde he had been forced to speak orcish tongue. He swore he would forget his native speech if he didn’t return to the Valley of Spirits as often as he did. Joft blinked at the witch doctor, Umou, his teacher, who wore a white mask over his blue face. Joft laughed wiggling his toes in the cold mud. “It is good for the skin, at least that is what I have heard.”
“I hope you haven’t messed up my books,” Umou said reaching for the tomes in his students arms.
“I don’t think they were damaged. I had a good hold on them,” the shaman passed each book over, glad to have the burden relieved. If he had not overslept due to his late studying he might have ended up hip deep in the marsh. The fact the older troll was pouring over the state of his tomes didn’t escape the student shaman. Joft turned his attention to working himself free of the mud and cold water, hands of his fellow tribesmen aided his freedom from the swamp and he once again stood on the boardwalk. “Thanks for your help,” he said to his peers who all patted him on the back or grinned before leaving him dripping on the boardwalk.
His amber eyes land on the back of his teacher who was still fussing over the books as he moved toward his flat to return them to their shelves. Joft understood the protective feelings over the knowledge hidden in the pages. Books were not something that was common before the tribe was relocated to the horde lands. One thing he was very grateful about the orc’s was the knowledge of his present path as a shaman and the delightful books that came with it. If he could, he would gather a great library he would let anyone read. Such an endeavor would take gold he didn’t currently have nor the space. That meant settling down, the young troll snorted as he started toward the inn where he started this morning.
He knew if he wasn’t a member of the horde he might have several wives by now, a witch doctor more than likely, performing rites to please the spirits. He had a strong talent with the magical arts that was discovered early in his life. His gaze swept over a few of the females who had been liberated from their lives of being wives and mothers to the careers of their choice. He had not met a woman that just wanted to be a wife and mother to his children. Most wanted to have the freedoms they have gained and the rest was almost forbidden to speak about. Joft put a palm on his forehead, he felt lightheadedness rolling over him. The worse of the sickness was over but he still was plagued with waves of dizziness and weakness.
“Jo!” Yum called running toward his cousin, he fell in step with the shaman. “You will never guess what Mother had received the other day.”
Joft let his hand drop to his side, eyeing the shorter male with short tusks, his green hair tied back showing off his bushy sideburns, and as always Yum smelt heavily of fish. Joft wasn’t in the mood for guessing games. “I doubt I would.”
Slightly disappointed that his cousin didn’t fall in with the unwritten rules of the game, Yum decided to tell his secret anyway. “Tej,” he said with a laugh. “She is married.”
Joft’s brow knitted with confusion, he knew the struggles of his cousin had to fight through to gain her independence. This didn’t sound like her, she was set very strongly against marriage of any kind. “She swore she would never marry? Are you sure it is the same Tej’lie?”
“I don’t know any other, do you?” The young troll laughed. “That isn’t the best part!”
This was concerning at best, he wouldn’t rest until he knew more. He was torn between going to his aunt, Tej’lie’s mother or his room to gather his things and travel to Shattrah directly.
Yum continued with his fit of laughter until he was holding his sides. “It is draenei!” He said between breaths, his face grew even bluer as he attempted to control himself.
Joft left the young cousin sitting on the boardwalk holding his sides. He moved swiftly toward the back of the city walls near the door that led to the Barrens. A nice breeze swept through the massive gate when he stepped up to the doorway of his aunt’s flat. Joft brushed away the clay beads strung over the doorway, soft weeping floated from within. “Aunt?”
The green haired female quickly wiped her cheeks and pushed herself away from the table and stood. “Joft,” she said smoothing her skirts. “So Yum found you?”
“Yes,” he said reaching out toward her, her small hands grasped his larger ones. “Tell me, I could barely understand the message.”
She nodded to the scroll on the table, she squeezed his hands. “Have you eaten?”
“Not this morning,” he answered moving toward the table, he carefully lifted the parchment and read the elegant handwriting. His aunt busied herself with preparing food, she needed something to do or he knew she would start crying again. Females were such tender creatures, well, most of them were.
He slipped into a chair before his knees could give out fully to read. He had to go through it twice to fully understand the whole message, he laid it on the table top as the food was almost finished. “She sounds happy.”
His Aunt slammed down the frying pan. “A draenei,” she yelled, tears threatening to surface again. “What in the name of the spirits would possess her to shame us like this?”
“It is different in Outland,” he whispered as the plate was dropped in front of him. “The fractions are blurred.”
“She is a troll, Jo. She will never be able to have children,” she slipped into a chair beside him and grasped a hand with both of hers. “Please, can you go speak to her. Try and talk some sense in the girl, she will listen to you because you wear the shaman mantle.”
He covered her hands with his free one and nodded. “I will pay her a visit. But I cannot promise anything.”
“Thank you,” she whispered as if all her problems were solved.
The meal was spent talking about her son, Yum, who seemed to only want to fish. All subjects with Yum around ended up about fishing, the lad had more tackle than most of the old fishermen around the city. “He is selling his catches and saving up for a boat,” she informed her nephew. “Can you imagine him on the waters? I fear the day.”
Joft chuckled with a nod.
Chapter One: Orgrimmar
The dawn was just peaking over the massive orcish city, though it never really slept, it was growing even louder as more of the inhabitants began the endless rebuilding of the city. Most of the walls were covered with scaffolding. The city was still recovering from Deathwing’s return to their world. It has been slow process for they were far more determined to build stronger and better than before. Instead of the place, Joft remembered it, a place where friends gathered after a long day, Orgrimmar had a military stiffness that infused in all the inhabitants.
Joft pushed those unhappy thoughts out of his mind as he rushed over the harden road, his dark waist long braids trailing behind him. The troll danced around an orc guard that had stepped out of the tanner shop, the shaman left a word of an apology in his wake which was wasted on the grumpy male. Joft tightened his grip on the books that were nestled in his long arms. He willed his legs to move faster, his spirit was willing but his body had other ideas. He remember a time not long ago, he could run all day without much bother. Now a jaunt from his room at the inn to his teachers flat made him sick.
Joft turned around the corner into the Valley of Spirits, a troll dominated suburb. It was nestled close by the goblin slums which had a nasty taste of burning metal and other things he didn’t know the names of. All he did know was that it smelt bad and made him even sicker if he lingered nearby too long. Part of the reason he couldn’t take his Aunt’s offer to stay at her flat during his lengthy stay, and why he was staying on the other side of the city.
His bare feet slapped against the wooden walk that had been built over the marsh that had spread over the entire area, another result from the cataclysm that hit their world. The trolls flats were wooden platforms that were in several levels up the walls of the city, they were covered with a hide or canvas over a wooden frame for privacy. The flats were richly decorated with the bright and bold patterns of the Darkspear tribe. Stringed beads and other colorful fabric made up the doors, which were mostly tied open to allow the warm breeze heat the interior. The trolls that were already milling about were in equally vivid color clothing, unlike the young shaman who wore a simple linen shirt and pants. His more stylish clothing were laying in his truck in his rented room, he just didn’t have time to change this morning.
Joft was working so hard to keep his bundle from spilling and not knocking into people off the narrow boardwalks, he didn’t notice an orc warrior riding his wolf down the path. Joft looked up at the last moment and flung himself out of the way. His feet sank into the soft earth giving him a buzz from the earthen element in the back of his mind. The cold water around his legs sang of energy before the temperature was noticed by the shaman. The orc laughed as he continued down the boardwalk, the political tensions between their peoples seemed to make the orc’s even more rude to his kind. Joft gritted his teeth, he pulled his foot free from the clinging mud with a loud squishy sound.
“Joft,” a deep voice called from the edge of the boardwalk. “What in the name of the elements are you doing in the muck?”
It was good to hear his own language again, being running around with other members of the Horde he had been forced to speak orcish tongue. He swore he would forget his native speech if he didn’t return to the Valley of Spirits as often as he did. Joft blinked at the witch doctor, Umou, his teacher, who wore a white mask over his blue face. Joft laughed wiggling his toes in the cold mud. “It is good for the skin, at least that is what I have heard.”
“I hope you haven’t messed up my books,” Umou said reaching for the tomes in his students arms.
“I don’t think they were damaged. I had a good hold on them,” the shaman passed each book over, glad to have the burden relieved. If he had not overslept due to his late studying he might have ended up hip deep in the marsh. The fact the older troll was pouring over the state of his tomes didn’t escape the student shaman. Joft turned his attention to working himself free of the mud and cold water, hands of his fellow tribesmen aided his freedom from the swamp and he once again stood on the boardwalk. “Thanks for your help,” he said to his peers who all patted him on the back or grinned before leaving him dripping on the boardwalk.
His amber eyes land on the back of his teacher who was still fussing over the books as he moved toward his flat to return them to their shelves. Joft understood the protective feelings over the knowledge hidden in the pages. Books were not something that was common before the tribe was relocated to the horde lands. One thing he was very grateful about the orc’s was the knowledge of his present path as a shaman and the delightful books that came with it. If he could, he would gather a great library he would let anyone read. Such an endeavor would take gold he didn’t currently have nor the space. That meant settling down, the young troll snorted as he started toward the inn where he started this morning.
He knew if he wasn’t a member of the horde he might have several wives by now, a witch doctor more than likely, performing rites to please the spirits. He had a strong talent with the magical arts that was discovered early in his life. His gaze swept over a few of the females who had been liberated from their lives of being wives and mothers to the careers of their choice. He had not met a woman that just wanted to be a wife and mother to his children. Most wanted to have the freedoms they have gained and the rest was almost forbidden to speak about. Joft put a palm on his forehead, he felt lightheadedness rolling over him. The worse of the sickness was over but he still was plagued with waves of dizziness and weakness.
“Jo!” Yum called running toward his cousin, he fell in step with the shaman. “You will never guess what Mother had received the other day.”
Joft let his hand drop to his side, eyeing the shorter male with short tusks, his green hair tied back showing off his bushy sideburns, and as always Yum smelt heavily of fish. Joft wasn’t in the mood for guessing games. “I doubt I would.”
Slightly disappointed that his cousin didn’t fall in with the unwritten rules of the game, Yum decided to tell his secret anyway. “Tej,” he said with a laugh. “She is married.”
Joft’s brow knitted with confusion, he knew the struggles of his cousin had to fight through to gain her independence. This didn’t sound like her, she was set very strongly against marriage of any kind. “She swore she would never marry? Are you sure it is the same Tej’lie?”
“I don’t know any other, do you?” The young troll laughed. “That isn’t the best part!”
This was concerning at best, he wouldn’t rest until he knew more. He was torn between going to his aunt, Tej’lie’s mother or his room to gather his things and travel to Shattrah directly.
Yum continued with his fit of laughter until he was holding his sides. “It is draenei!” He said between breaths, his face grew even bluer as he attempted to control himself.
Joft left the young cousin sitting on the boardwalk holding his sides. He moved swiftly toward the back of the city walls near the door that led to the Barrens. A nice breeze swept through the massive gate when he stepped up to the doorway of his aunt’s flat. Joft brushed away the clay beads strung over the doorway, soft weeping floated from within. “Aunt?”
The green haired female quickly wiped her cheeks and pushed herself away from the table and stood. “Joft,” she said smoothing her skirts. “So Yum found you?”
“Yes,” he said reaching out toward her, her small hands grasped his larger ones. “Tell me, I could barely understand the message.”
She nodded to the scroll on the table, she squeezed his hands. “Have you eaten?”
“Not this morning,” he answered moving toward the table, he carefully lifted the parchment and read the elegant handwriting. His aunt busied herself with preparing food, she needed something to do or he knew she would start crying again. Females were such tender creatures, well, most of them were.
He slipped into a chair before his knees could give out fully to read. He had to go through it twice to fully understand the whole message, he laid it on the table top as the food was almost finished. “She sounds happy.”
His Aunt slammed down the frying pan. “A draenei,” she yelled, tears threatening to surface again. “What in the name of the spirits would possess her to shame us like this?”
“It is different in Outland,” he whispered as the plate was dropped in front of him. “The fractions are blurred.”
“She is a troll, Jo. She will never be able to have children,” she slipped into a chair beside him and grasped a hand with both of hers. “Please, can you go speak to her. Try and talk some sense in the girl, she will listen to you because you wear the shaman mantle.”
He covered her hands with his free one and nodded. “I will pay her a visit. But I cannot promise anything.”
“Thank you,” she whispered as if all her problems were solved.
The meal was spent talking about her son, Yum, who seemed to only want to fish. All subjects with Yum around ended up about fishing, the lad had more tackle than most of the old fishermen around the city. “He is selling his catches and saving up for a boat,” she informed her nephew. “Can you imagine him on the waters? I fear the day.”
Joft chuckled with a nod.
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