Silent Spirits (Open Thread)
When: Day 6 Who: Akama and...?
Silence. It had been years since the "sound" of it had reached Akama's malformed ears, but now it seemed as though it would be all he would ever hear. There was no doubt in the Shaman's mind that he was dead, bled out from countless wounds, or suffering the fatal blow from the demon hunter's spear...but not far away Illidan lay dead as well, the last piece before Karabour could be itself again. For that...he would gladly return his bones to the earth, that his spirit might soar free.
There was light, there was darkness, somehow both the same. Silence, and deafening sound, all at once.
Eventually, there were sensations.
Warm sand. All along his back.
Cool water... washing against the outstretched limb.
Salt-laden air, moving across him from the direction of the water.
Slowly growing light.
Then the cry of something, above, something that rode the air fearlessly. If this was death, then it seemed he could have done far worse for himself.
Raising one three fingered paw to shield his eyes he opened them to slits, blinking back sudden tears at the sudden brightness. Too long he had been confined to the corridors of the Warden's prison, never seeing the sun through Shadow Moon Valley's perpetually black sky.
His nudity was hardly distressing, there wouldn't be a need for clothes any longer. There would be none to mock his twisted form, to gasp in horror at the mutations the Fel taint had wreaked on him. For a moment he luxuriated in the feel of the sand beneath his back, the surf against his arm...and then he sat up, still shielding his face as he surveyed the landscape into which he found himself thrown.
He was on a wide, level beach, with greenish water lapping at his feet. There were creatures in the air above, a few, widely scattered and too high in the air to see clearly. They seemed interested in the water far offshore, not in him.
Inland, the beach sloped up to hilly dunes and then vegetation appeared.
Looking that way, in the distance, where the land rose there was something that broke the natural randomness of the horizon. Something regular. Something that resembled the skyline of a city, no city he had ever seen before.
Pushing up from the sand he smiled wide, jagged teeth gleaming like bleached bone in the sun. His joints didn't ache and his old wounds had died with him it seemed, leaving him feeling better then he had in the decades since his body had first gone through the changes.
Glowing azure eyes surveyed the landscape on which he now stood, feeling the air from the sea, the gritty granules of sand beneath his toes...and the smile slipped slowly from his face, replaced with a thoughtful frown. Something seemed...off somehow, as though there were a disturbance in something he couldn't quite touch or see. Perhaps it was time to commune with the spirits once again, although now to approach them as one of their own, a spirit like themselves instead of a Shaman seeking supplication.
Closing his eyes, Akama held his hands out to the sides. Taking a deep breath in through his nose he filled himself with air, grounding his feet in the earth of the beach, the damp sand between his toes. As he had learned so many years ago he let go of his flesh, spirit seeking out the elemental spirits that inevitably dwelled nearby...but the spirits of this place, if there were any, didn't answer. They might have been sleeping - if so, they had been so long asleep that they had little or no connections to the land, air and water.
The frown deepened, small trenches running from the corners of his mouth as he called his spirit back to himself. Something was very clearly wrong, if the spirits of this place were unreachable. Had he been a novice he might have attributed it to a lack of experience, even unfamiliar terrain...but such a thing was unlikely.
Perhaps, if it were populated, the beings that dwelled in the cityscape beyond might have answers for him. Shaking the excess sand from the three tendrils that ran down his back, Akama set out towards his new destination.
He wanted time to ponder this new mystery, but if the land were sick, or the spirits of this place hostile...then it was best to remain alert. So he remained low to the ground, moving quickly but cautiously, scanning the hills and horizons for any sign of movement.
Once in the shelter of the vegetation, there was movement - breezes from the beach lifted fronds to sway. Other sounds and telltale shifts hinted at creatures of varying size, going about their business, like the flying things above had been. Here and there, tracks remained.
The light increased as a single sun rose on its journey across the heavens and the animals at least seemed undisturbed by the spirits sleeping silence, a thought that eased the sudden pressure that had sprung up in Akama's mind. Stealthy movement was a specialty of his people, something in the Fel that tainted their bodies long ago had imparted an ability to hide in all but the smallest shadow. And so he loped quickly from shadow to shadow, pausing to catch his bearings and check his surroundings.
Any new set of tracks was subjected to the elder shaman's intense scrutiny, his tendriled face leaning down close enough that he could study the makeup of each new depression in the soil. The world's life was a strangely mixed collection. Over the millenium, balances had been reached, an ecology had formed, but the original denizens had not all been from common origins. Creatures from many worlds had been brought here - some were now extinct, others had thrived.
Akama did his best to catelogue each set of tracks against creatures he knew from Outland, or the strange beasts that had come through the portal from Azeroth. The tracks alone wouldn't tell him if they were dangerous, but if they possessed a similarity to a species that he knew to be dangerous...there was no sense in taking chances. Perhaps, being as he was already dead, he could not be killed...but with the spirits strangely silent, he was not eager to test that particular theory.
As new tracks became less common he moved more swiftly towards the city he had spied, the new strength in his legs carrying him swiftly over uneven terrain or even up into low hanging branches. It was not the first time he was glad to no longer have the hooves of a Draenei...they were not suited for stealth or climbing. The distant skyline grew closer. The day wore into afternoon. There were small streams to quench his thirst. Exotic fruits with appetizing perfume to tempt his appetite. And he was all too happy to indulge. It was a welcome change from the rivers of poison or magma that flowed through Shadow Moon, and if any fruit grew there it was certainly a danger to even consider consuming. Given nothing to carry any fruit or water with, he contented himself with eating or drinking his fill from each spot before moving on, though he was careful never to take too much.
"Perhaps a test." He mused out loud, more to hear the sound of his own voice then anything. "Perhaps it falls to me to awaken the spirits of this place, or find some other means of communicating with them."
It was a tempting picture...but a test as a prelude to what? Death was a mysterious force indeed, but he had never pictured it being quite so...unfathomable as this. In many ways his body felt more alive then it had in decades, his senses sharper then they had been for years. If this were death...what then was life?
His musings were cut short when he finally reached his destination, glowing eyes widening in wonder and awe. The city was within view, but between Akama and the towers that made up the skyline there were stretches of vegetation that seemed to thin, and finally, a wall. The wall was perhaps ten feet high, and above... the air shimmered like heat off baking ground.
"Curious." He rumbled, eying the patch of strange air.
Turning from one side to the other he attempted to locate a door or portal he could enter through, or at least a tree close enough that would help him scale the wall itself.
For the most part, the trees did not come too close to the wall. Akama had come directly through the forest? jungle? and emerged not close to any openings in the structure. Vines crawled up its sides in places, however, some of them thick and sturdy, the growth years, decades... who could guess how old?
"These will have to do it seems." Picking a patch that seemed thicker then the others, Akama gripped a vine tightly and began his ascent up the wall. He was accustomed to climbing the treacherous peaks of Shadowmoon, but a straight wall still made for slow going. He paused at the edge, looking appraisingly at the heat field before him.
"Alarm maybe? Perhaps a defense system?" Snapping off a piece of vine not holding him up he extended it into the field, ready to drop back to ground level if necessary.
It felt like he was pushing the piece of vine into something... thick. Viscous. Something that resisted the intrusion, but didn't stop it.
A vibration ran back along the branch to his hand. It was... faintly unpleasant for no specific reason.
"Hmph. Probably an alarm then." He grumbled, dropping the vine. "Best to be done quickly."
Gripping the edge of the wall he hauled himself over with powerful arms, hoping to break through the strange field and drop into the shadow of the wall. It would provide him the security of stealth long enough to determine if he had been detected. Passing through the field, he felt the resistance. It wasn't enough to stop him if he pressed through it. The longer he remained in contact with the field, however, the more unpleasant it became, until vertigo edged up.
Once over the wall, the sensation ceased at once.
On the other side the vegetation was less wild. Not controlled, but as if it had once been tame. Once, a millenia ago.
Landing heavily on the far side, he crouched in the shadows to observe his new surroundings. His skin itched and he felt...stifled. The ground was hard like rock, but with none of the life he'd come to associate with it. Even the air felt different, the way it smelled, touched and tasted. This was a strange place, and one he was beginning to dislike. Perhaps this was what death actually like?
It would make sense. Everything here felt...muted somehow, fogged over. It was clear even the flora had been controlled at one point.
"What manner of place is this?" He mumbled softly. There was only one real way to discover the answer. Dashing across what he assumed was some kind of road he vanished into the shadow of a small dwelling. So long as the shadows persisted, he could explore with only a small chance of discovery.
The dwellings were attractive, to an aesthetic that admired symetry. Unusual, to human eyes. Doors were panels in oddly shaped doorways. The buildings lacked any signs of age or wear, yet they were immeasurably ancient. Anything time could wear away had long disappeared, but time seemed unable to destroy the very substance of the stuctures themselves.
"How strange." Akama murmured, running the three fingers of his right hand over the walls surface. For a structure to be so old, yet still standing...and to be made of such strange, lifeless rock. His mind was too inquisitive to miss a chance such as this.
Slipping along the wall, doing his best to remain hidden, the Krokul shaman slipped towards the door of the dwelling knocking gently.
"Hello?" He called softly.
But there was no answer forthcoming from within. Shifting his body slowly closer to the portal that seemed to serve as a door, Akama reached out one heavily muscled arm to rap sharply on it.
Again nothing.
“Perhaps this place is as abandoned by people as it seems to be by the spirits.” He mused, shifting his bulk out of the shadows to stand in front of the door. Squaring his broad shoulders he pressed his hands against the door and heaved, a grunt of effort working it's way out from his chest as the muscles along his back and shoulders stood out against his blue-grey flesh.
He might as well have been pushing against the earth itself. Panting a little from the exertion he stepped back, surveying the house with a curious eye.