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Post by Raga on Feb 13, 2006 8:14:31 GMT -5
"What should I do to grow strong and wise?" the calf asked his grandfather.
"Seek mystery, young one," the grandfather replied.
The calf tilted his head and frowned, obviously not understanding.
"Ask questions," the grandfather said, "And listen to the answers, but don't accept them unless they ring of truth to you. Look around you, and learn all you can about this village and this valley."
"What if I learn all there is to learn about the village and the valley?" the calf asked.
The grandfather smiled. "Then go over the next hill, and ask and listen and learn until you know all there is to know of the next valley. Go over every hill. Explore every valley."
"And when I reach the sea?" the calf asked, although he smiled now, expecting the answer.
"Then explore the sea," the grandfather said. "Let your feet always move and your eyes always look and your mind always seek."
"What if.." the calf asked, grown solemn again, "What if I explore all the world and there is nothing left to learn?"
"There is always something left to learn," the grandfather replied. "If not on this world then beyond it. You will never run out of mysteries."
It is a conversation repeated the world over, in substance if not in exact form, amongst the Tauren, the Trolls, the Orcs, and even the human children.
Tawa Owakeri is Taurahe for Seek Mystery. We are those who have grown in body and mind, but whose spirits still search for more.
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Post by Raga on Feb 16, 2006 15:36:35 GMT -5
"Do you ever get the feeling there's something you should be doing that you're not?" Raga asked.
A slight breeze rattled through the sparse leaves overhead, spattering sunlight across the crook of the tree Raga and Bullhoof sat against. The tree's shade was equally sparse, but it was a good deal better than sitting out in the scorching sun of The Barrens. They could see three of The Crossroads' four gates from where they sat, and the fourth was just around the corner of the inn. If trouble came calling, they were prepared for it. In the meantime, there was a moment for them.
Bull was used to Raga's abrupt change from light-hearted conversation to philosophical questions by now. He didn't bother to act surprised, just took a slow drink from his flask of grog and looked thoughtfully down at her. Raga took a drink from her own flask and leaned against Bull while she waited for him to formulate an answer.
"Sometimes I forget things, yes," he said. "But I usually remember, and they still get done."
He was still watching her, a slight smile playing at the corners of his mouth, and Raga got the feeling he knew that wasn't quite what she'd been looking for. He never gave easy answers; he always made her work for them--and in doing so, forced her to think them through for herself.
Raga chortled and reached up to give Bull's beard braid a gentle, affectionate tug.
"Hrm. But I'm not talking about forgetting things," Raga said. "I mean, do you ever think there's something... more, something else that you should be doing, just in general. With your life."
His gaze was steady, unblinking. Raga sighed, grasping for some way to explain what she meant.
"I just feel sometimes that all I do is wander around this town, not really doing anything except helping to fend off the occasional attack," Raga said.
"And drinking," Bull added.
Raga chortled. "And drinking. But so many others are off, fighting against larger threats. I don't feel called to do that, but sometimes... Well. I have to wonder if this is really all there is."
"If we were all off fighting somewhere else, who would be here?" Bull asked, in his usual calm, mild voice.
Raga nodded. She'd thought that, herself. And she didn't feel called to wade into the larger battles waging in more exotic locales across Azeroth. But the something else still whispered around the edges of her consciousness, teasing with its presence but refusing to reveal its entirety.
One thing she had begun to suspect, however.
"There is something else I'm meant to do," Raga murmured.
Bull drank and listened, watching silently. Raga rubbed her thumb across the hem of the guild tabard she wore, black with the eye on the front.
"I don't think I can find what it is while I'm wearing this," she said.
Bull nodded matter-of-factly. Raga wasn't surprised by his lack of an overly emotional reaction. She'd expected it. She counted on it.
"We all do what we have to," he said. He didn't say it wouldn't change things between them. He didn't say he'd support whatever decisions she made. He didn't have to say it, because it was just how it always was. And she knew he wasn't the only friend who would respond the same way.
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Post by Maus on Feb 16, 2006 16:37:11 GMT -5
Maus watched the new arrivals as he took a seat next to Undertaker Mordo. He found this little town a place of comfort, he had started his second life here just over a year ago. Mordo wasn’t much of a talker but Maus always found him to give some decent advice.
“You looked as confused as when I first saw you, what’s wrong with you boy?” Mordo asked.
“Things have changed for me,” Maus started and than paused to take a look at a rat sniffing around.
“Hmm…you aren’t wearing your family tabard,” Mordo said looking Maus in the eyes.
There had been many nights Maus would come to tell Mordo of his tales, he considered Mordo somewhat of a friend. When he first was awoken, Mordo for some reason took a certain liking to Maus.
“You were never much for beating around the bush, eh?” Maus chuckled thinking if he should end the rats life.
Mordo just shrugged off the question, patience wasn’t one of his favorite traits.
“You should know better than most, things change and they change for a reason,” Mordo responded after a long silence.
“I’m not a fan of change,” Maus said, with a little bit of frustration.
“Of course not, it isn’t comfortable,” Mordo mentioned while picking up the rat.
Maus watched as Mordo played with the rat, trapping its every move, while the mouse desperately tried to find another route of escape.
“Maus, I know you loved your family, just like I’m sure you loved your family in your past life, but you know there is always….” Mordo continued after setting the rat free.
“…more to see in this world than what you know,” Maus finished. It was a phrase Mordo had repeated many times before when Maus wouldn’t leave Deathknell after he awoke.
After a year of adventures, laughter, and tears, Maus knew Mordo was right. Sometimes you have to let go of the things you find comfort in to grow.
Maus mounted his horse, there was news the Crossroads were under attack.
“Comfort makes content, never be content. Make use of this second chance.” Mordo shouted as he walked down into the crypt.
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Post by Raga on Feb 16, 2006 16:44:51 GMT -5
"So, what do we do now?" Maus asked.
He and Raga stood in the east gate of The Crossroads, gazing idly across the brown grass and sun-cracked road toward Ratchet. There had been Alliance attacks earlier, but it was quiet now, all evidence of fighting gone save for a few scattered, fly-clouded stains where blood fed the dry earth.
Raga glanced down at the spiky-haired Forsaken. She'd met him long ago, before almost anyone else. He'd been nothing but a true friend since then. She hadn't been surprised to find out he felt much the same whispering need for something else that she felt.
Neither of them wore a tabard anymore. Ties had been cut. The quiet that followed had been deafening, but also liberating.
"We go on, I guess," Raga said.
Maus nodded and peered up from the corner of his eyes. "We could go on together," he said, after a minute.
"Hrm," Raga said. "You have an idea?"
"I might." Maus grinned.
Raga chortled. "When did you ever not have an idea? All right. Tell me."
---
Raga sat by the mailbox outside The Crossroads' inn. She wore the wolf and felt its wild spirit beside hers in the ghostly body they shared. The breeze blew through her, ruffling fur that barely existed. A younger ghost wolf leaped and bounded around her. Raga was tempted to join in Pawanazar's frolicking--she felt odd, as though new and untraveled roads were rolling themselves out before her, a feeling she hadn't had in a very long time. But at the same time, she felt a deep sense of contentment, the kind that soared even though you sat completely still and let it just fill you.
A buzz of static from Raga's earring, and Maus' familiar voice crackled into life, bearing the news they'd been awaiting. Ferine's voice followed, less dry and more enthusiastic than Raga recalled it being. Raga took on Tauren form and smiled at the younger Tauren as he also released the wolf and stood grinning beside her.
"Welcome to Tawa Owakeri," Raga said. She spoke to the other shaman, but she meant it for herself, too.
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Post by Elowynne on Feb 22, 2006 21:58:55 GMT -5
It is time. I am not a little girl anymore.
Once upon a time, the world was new. It was a frenzy of sights, sounds and smells. I was both curious and afraid. They took me in, taught me and protected me. I was the spoiled baby in a house of indulgent adults. I lacked for nothing and wanted little. I was coddled, protected and cherished.
I know I'm not the brightest. I am flighty and fickle. I tend to not stick to one task for too long. I am vain and I can be foolish. I trust too easily. But I am no longer a child and it is time I forged my own way.
I once saw a baby bird jump from a nest. It's options were simple, fly or die.
Well, I have jumped from the nest.
I have spread my wings.
I feel the rush of the wind.
Watch me fly.
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Post by Regatta on Feb 25, 2006 11:49:06 GMT -5
Deep in the bank vault in Orgrimmar, sitting amongst the other bags, is a blue bag, held closed with a bright orange ribbon. This is Regatta's bag. Inside it, is her past. A flower from a friend, growing dark and delicate with age. A piece of coal, a small mushroom. A tiny bag filled with green glowing dust. And now, a black tabbard, folded carefully, tied with a red ribbon. Placed ever so lovingly on top of the mining pick. She sighs. "Time to go." She runs her fingers over the fabric one last time. She ties the ribbon. She leaves.
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Post by Palu on Mar 13, 2006 19:59:04 GMT -5
It felt to Palu like she’d grown up in Noxilite. As far as being out in the world, that was true she supposed. She’d only been in her twelfth season when Raga had talked to her about joining the guild. She’d seen lots of changes, people going and people coming. She’d fallen in love with Moholith and been given the permission of the elders to pursue a deeper relationship with him. She’d grown so much while under the Eye.
But Moholith had gone on a hunt that lasted much longer than Palu, or anyone, had expected. Many things had befallen her in the last few months and she’d changed as a result. Gone was the innocent Druid girl who didn’t understand the ways of the world; gone, the child who believed in goodness in everything and everyone. Now she was more skeptical, less trusting.
As she sat in the Pools of Vision, listening to the wind singing in the cavern she realized that it was time for one more change. Noxilite was the home of her youth, her refuge, but it had become less a shelter and more a chore. It was time to go, to venture out on her own and see where the Earthmother would guide her.
There was a pack in Palu’s bank box which contained items that had no particular value other than the memories they carried. There was the tuxedo shirt and jacket and the loincloth she’d worn to last year’s Hallowed End party, some left over fireworks, the robes she’d worn when she and Moholith had spoken to the elders and the russet hat that Raga had given her ages ago. Carefully she folded the black and white tabard that had been part of her wardrobe for so long and placed it in the pack as well.
Palu prayed regularly to the Earthmother for guidance but her only answer had been the wind. Finally after days of listening she realized the wind was whispering to her, telling her to seek. Weeks went by with the voices in the wind constantly badgering her. Finally, in frustration she gave herself over to the voices and bade them take her where they would. That was how she found herself standing in the dusty, bustling center of Crossroads. “What is it here I am supposed to find?” she asked of the wind. The answer was a friendly and all too familiar “Moo”. Turning her head in the direction of the sound Palu saw Raga waving in greeting and standing at her side, Nikiya and Maus. And at last the wind was silent.
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