A Roach Joins the Clan

[Rhoach]

((I've got this whole story written down, but I've decided to release it in parts, 10 in all. Figure it'll make it last longer ))

Part 1

Stranglethorn Vale

10 years Before Present

Rhoach peered out of the thick foliage into the clearing. The 11-year old troll had developed keen survival instincts during his childhood. One of these instincts was staying hidden, and that instinct dictated that open, bright spaces were to be avoided as a rule. This ingrained behavior had served him well during his flight from the human city of Stormwind. A thieves’ guild was not an organization to be left lightly in the best of times. With a master like Kzar the Knife, desertion meant certain death for the deserter unwary enough to be caught ((but that is a story for another time, dear reader)). Rhoach’s ruminations were interrupted by the sound of rustling branches.

Slowly turning his ears toward the source of the noise, he shrank further back into the shadows, dropping on all fours into a feral, alert crouch. Only the faint yellow gleam of his eyes betrayed his presence in the wall of greenery. Two tall humans and a dwarf walked into the clearing. One of the humans, a female, was clearly a mage, using a staff with a glowing gem on top as a walking stick. The other human walked with a noble bearing. He was clad in chainmail and wore a shield over a large warhammer strapped across his back. The dwarf seemed typical of his race, holding a two-handed battleaxe against his shoulder and wearing a dour expression.

“I think we’re off course, Chorich,” the dwarf spoke grumpily, addressing the human with the sword. “No tellin’ what lies in these woods,” he added gloomily, fingering his axe and throwing suspicious glances at their surroundings. Rhoach crouched a little lower and stilled his breathing.

“Patience, Kerlack,” the mage spoke softly, fingering the gem on the top of her staff. “Kivian will lead us aright. He has never failed us before.”

“Where is that damned ranger anyway….” the dwarf grumbled.

Too late, Rhoach heard the slight sound of a dry autumn leaf crunching less than a foot behind him. Muscular, purple hands grabbed Rhoach underneath his armpits and hoisted him into the air from his prone position. A night elf, apparently Kivian, held the squirming Rhoach aloft as he walked into the clearing.

Chorich merely raised his eyebrow when he saw the ranger’s prize. “Find yourself some vermin, Kivian?”

“It would appear so, paladin,” the night elf spoke, disdain in his voice. Whether the disdain was directed at his wiggling captive or the human, Rhoach couldn’t tell.

The small troll (he was about a foot shy of the paladin’s height) was dumped unceremoniously in the middle of the clearing and immediately surrounded by the company of Alliance members.

[Rhoach]

Part 2 Posted!

Edited June 26, 2004 by Rhoach