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The Seven of Elements - a tale of Shillatae
#1
Shillatae was tired.

Her head ached from trying to maintain concentration on the elements around her as she'd been instructed by Taga'sen, her tutor in the Shamanic arts. She'd showed aptitude with the Elements since she was young and been tested to see if she'd be better suited to join with the Magi or the Shamans of the Darkspear Tribe, and fallen into the shadow of Taga'sen as a result.

She didn't care for him much - Taga'sen was casually cruel as many Darkspears remained - and his lessons were arduous. Today she was meditating on the shores of Stranglethorn Vale as the South Sea crashed in waves before her. She was to remain so until the tide engulfed her, a lesson on the inevitability and might of the element of Water. For her own part, Shillatae was having trouble concentrating on much other than the sun beating down on her violet skin.

She'd tied her hair up but strands of it stuck to her temples and neck as she sweated in the tropical sun and tried to think of the soothing, healing powers of Water. She certainly wouldn't mind have minded jumping into the surf before her as it slowly and agonizingly crept up the beach but it was both not permitted by her master and unsafe in its own right. The danger of Murlocs remained and in fact it was a risk to even be out on the beach alone for an untrained Shaman.

The sound of rustling in the sand behind her again broke her concentration and she hesistated a moment before looking to see what it was - if it was Taga'sen checking on her she would get an earful for demonstrating her distraction, but he was likely far off in the cooler shade of the jungle canopy by now.

The sound came from a troll a bit older than herself walking down the beach, a young hunter of the Tribe she'd seen a time or two before by the name of Sreng who carried a spear but hadn't yet earned any deednames. He waved as he approached. "How you doin', Shamaness? Am I disruptin' yer meditations?" He chuckled and she as usual wasn't quite sure if he was making fun of her, but Shillatae grinned back nonetheless.

"'Course you are, but yer knowin' dat already, Srenger. You tink ah'm sittin' in frontah de Sea an' not swimmin' in it f'r mah own pleasure? Taga'sen's got me contemplatin' de Water which pers'nally ah could do wit greater 'preciation from /in/ it if yah get mah meanin'!" She cackled and turned a bit to get a better look at Sreng, who while unblooded walked with a fair modicum of confidence. He seemed aware of the appraisal in her glance.

"Well I don' wanna be gettin' yah any hotter den yah already be, Shamaness, but I didn't think it was safe out here wit all de Murlocs still raidin' lately. De orcs be a great help an' all but dey can't be here all de time."

"Yah followed me out here? An' stop callin' me Shamaness, ah'm barely a 'prentice an' yah know it, foo'!" She stood up and brushed the sand off her legs. "Ah'm too skinny t'make a meal f'r a Murloc anyhow," she laughed. Something emerging from the waves gave her a start even as the words left her mouth. Sreng turned and gripped his spear, but both had to smile as a large crab scuttled up onto the beach and away from them.

"Mebbe we should get outta here," he said grinning, "Taga'sen's busy tryin' t'advise ol'Sen'jin 'bout de upcomin' Moot on Zandalar an' all dat."

Shillatae stepped closer. "Yah heared sometin' 'bout de Zandalar?" She tried to keep the excitement out of her voice. Tales of the legendary Zandalar Tribe remained high in her interest, and she dreamed one day of being chosen to travel to their island refuge far out to sea for the Moot held among all the Tribes of the world. She'd count the years between the Moots on her fingers as a girl growing into young adulthood, and it was nearly time for another. As the oldest Trollish Tribe in existence the Zandalar were reknown for their mastery of ancient lore, especially their Witch Doctor-King Rastakhan.

"Mebbe. Ah mighta heared a little someting," he grinned even more broadly, enjoying teasing the younger Troll as always.

She smirked. "Prob'ly nothin' special, anyhow. What dey gonna say 'round li'l Srenger dat's worth knowin'?"

He chuckled and nodded. "Yah, dat's true. What d'I know 'bout leadin' de Tribe? Ah'll be lucky if dey ask me t'help load de boats bound Zandalar way!"

"Bah, you probably doin' better den dis trollgirl. Ah'm 'bout de worst Shaman ever, whatever dey sayin' 'bout de spirits int'rested in me an' such."

Sreng shrugged and the two of them looked westward out over the Sea at the sun just beginning to descend. Their mind was on Zandalar Isle and the upcoming Moot of the Tribes, but in truth their destiny lay far further west than that and farther in the future as well.
"She is a soothsayer. She’s a mystic. She is a witch doctor, able to see into people’s hearts and minds. She’s also touched by the elements." -Naomie Harris
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#2
<reserved for Part 2>
"She is a soothsayer. She’s a mystic. She is a witch doctor, able to see into people’s hearts and minds. She’s also touched by the elements." -Naomie Harris
Reply
#3
<reserved for Part 3>
"She is a soothsayer. She’s a mystic. She is a witch doctor, able to see into people’s hearts and minds. She’s also touched by the elements." -Naomie Harris
Reply
#4
<reserved for Part 4>
"She is a soothsayer. She’s a mystic. She is a witch doctor, able to see into people’s hearts and minds. She’s also touched by the elements." -Naomie Harris
Reply
#5
Woohoo! Baby Me! Baby You! Keep it comin', baby!
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