BPB - Entangled (A Warcraft Story)

A Chance Meeting

On this day the floor of Ashenvale was mottled by the sunlight filtering through the canopy of the forest. The greens and purples of the tree leaves shone softly on the sentinels they adorned.

Zen'Kila breathed in the dewy air and silently padded through the brush as she searched for a specific plant. The sun had not long risen and her with it, so she could slip out of the Horde outpost with fewer eyes watching her.

The young troll druid liked the forest. She liked being under the giant trees and feeling the moss and grass beneath her feet, almost as much as she liked the sandy shores of her home on Darkspear Isle.

Zen'Kila had come to Ashenvale with her mentor, Tauren druid Kayaye Mistmane, who was acting as a healer at the Hoard outpost. Kayaye had tasked Zen'Kila with collecting ingredients needed to mix the healing potions that were used daily due to the constant skirmishes that happened between the Hoard members and the Alliance-aligned Night elves who called the forest home.

Zen'Kila had found some of the desired plants close to the camp, but not enough, so each day she searched further and further out, taking the shape of a large cat and using her stealth ability, rendering her invisible so she could pass through the forest unseen.

She hadn't been in this particular part of the forest before and her feline ears pricked and rotated at every twig snap and rustling that she heard, but so far none had amounted to any cause for alarm.

She spotted a patch of knotted vines in the shade of some low-growing bushes and trotted over to get a closer look. She smiled a feline smile as she pushed the bushes aside with a paw and beheld the thorn-covered briarthorn. Her excitement grew as further inspection found more of the shrubs growing under the bushes.

Zen'Kila undid her shapeshift, morphing from the powerful blue-furred cat form back into her lilac-skinned self. Pink hair fell into thick braids over her shoulders and she quickly pulled a small ebony-handled knife from her belt.

Negotiating the vines underneath the bush wasn't easy. Zen'Kila had to get through the thick woody outer skin to the gooey sap at the centre of the vine, without causing permanent damage to the plant, while also avoiding the extremely sharp thorns. The task needed all of her attention or she'd be pulling painful thorns from her hands for days.

She managed to make an incision and position a vial beneath, pulling string from another pouch to tie it in place. She sat back on her haunches to survey her handy work and was rewarded as a drop of the goo pooled at the incision then down into the vial.

If she rigged vials on all the plants here she would have a small sample to take back to camp today, and she could return for the rest. She moved sideways and began to work on the next briarthorn. This plant was larger and she had set more vials knowing it would not damage the plant.

She was so intent on her work that she almost missed the movement approaching her from behind. She did not see or hear, so much as feel the presence and it brought her to a stop. But only for a moment before she started casting. Green tendrils rose from the ground around her, and as she finished the spell, she morphed and moved.

The presence behind her was revealed as a tangle of vines sprouted from the ground at its feet, showing glowing silver eyes glaring from under navy blue eyebrows. The purple-skinned elf strained against the vines as the hooves of Zen'Kila's travel form pounded into the earth.

Her panic drove her straight through a dense bush and into a furbolg, who roared at her and lashed out. She spun around and ran back the way she had come, past the elf still held by her enchantment and into the forest beyond.

The furbolgs black fur bristled with anger as she disappeared into the brush, and he snarled as he noticed the elf. The bear-man let out a low growl as he advanced. Now normally furbolg were on good terms with night elves, but the elf could see this one was corrupted.

The elf watched the salivating hulk draw closer and strained again at the vines that wrapped around his body. The furbolg was huge and if he was part of the Foulwead tribe, who were notoriously aggressive, the elf knew there was no reasoning with him. The furbolg would be intent on killing him.

The elf did not close his eyes, his only chance was being able to move as soon as the enchantment broke, which he knew would be after the beast had already begun to attack.

He braced himself but the first blow struck was not against him, it was in his defence. A deafening roar pulled the furbolgs attention followed a split second later by light blue fur crashing against the black of the furbolg, pushing the bear-man back.

The elf's defender was a bear, light blue fur with navy symbols marking it for a shapeshifter and the elf realised it must be the Horde druid.

Zen'Kila had succeeded in putting some distance between the furbolg and the trapped elf and roared again at the bear-man, keeping his attention and backing up leading him further away.

The bear man's attacks were vicious, the force behind each swipe jarred Zen'Kila to the bone and pushed her along the ground. Each bite, though dampened by the thickness of her bear fur and skin, still opened wounds.

She roared in pain as the furbolgs claw caught her shoulder, opening a gash to her elbow, and reared on her hind legs to answer the blow with one of her own. The bear-man screamed something unintelligible at her and Zen'Kila answered by launching herself at him.

Behind her, the elf felt the vines hold loose and had pulled his bow from his back and began following the pair before the vines had vanished. He pulled the drawstring back and aimed. Black fur, blue fur, he could end them both. He let his arrows fly one after another, the fifth he held.

On the ground, the black-furred bear man struggled to take one last shuddering breath, before his claws fell away from the muzzle that held his throat in its jaws. Zen'Kila tossed her bear head, snapping the creature's neck for good measure, and released. The arrows, protruding from the furbolgs back, broke as the hulking form dropped to the earth.

Zen'Kila breathed deep, lip curling at the taste of blood in her mouth. Her orange eyes were already focused on the elf as her blood lust tingled.

She had lost her chance to escape, if she tried to run now she could have five arrows in her back before she'd gone ten paces. It wouldn't kill her but if he loosed while she was facing him at least she could see the projectiles coming and had a better chance of turning them to avoid the pain.

She watched.

And so did he.

The bear before him still radiated strength, though its fur had patches of reddy purple from the blood and its left arm had been opened so deep he could see bone.

He hadn't had a good look at what race it had been before it shapeshifted, as deep in the bush it had been. He didn't think it was an orc and if it were it was the skinniest he'd ever seen. He did come back though, the elf thought to himself. He had no reason to, they were not friends or allies, but he had, and it may have saved my life.

The elf relaxed his bowstring, but held the arrow nocked. He motioned with his head for the other to leave and the bear began to back away slowly. To show he meant no further harm the elf returned his arrow to its quiver and the bow to his back, holding his empty hands up as an offering.

Zen'Kila needed no more prompting, with a flash she had morphed again and disappeared into the forest. As an afterthought, the elf returned to where he'd first come upon the druid and was surprised at the vials set up underneath.

He'll return for these, he thought to himself and saw a small knife in the dirt. He picked it up and turned it over in one hand, useless, but he tucked it into his belt anyway.

"We may yet meet again." The elf said aloud. "If we do, I will return it."