Khouska Lightmourn

Part 1

That low buzzing and humming noises echoing in the empty halls of that sparse home. A soft huff of hair escaped from the female as she stirred, holding her head. Blinking blearily around the somewhat familiar surroundings, those dull blue eyes flicking their gaze to the two small sleeping forms next to her. Causing that smile to creep upon her face, glancing to her other side that empty space caused her to look about finding that male figure skulking at the broken doorway simply watching the three.

That silence broken with that warm tone. “Morning..sleep well?”

The female merely cracked her back. “Well enough...I should ask the same. Another sleepless night?”

The male sighed and nodded slowly, “I keep...forgetting things.”

She merely blinked almost trying to get the sleep from her eyes. “Like what?”

He skulked over to the bed, that creaking sound of rotting floorboards following him, sitting on the edge of the worn bed folding his hands together. “How did we become husband and wife? How it all begin?” His gaze carefully gauged her, as she merely sighed heavily. “You honestly forget?” The elven males ears lowered with a solemn nod. “Let's see...”

A land of white capped mountain tops, descending into lush green forests. Farm land, hunting grounds, with the occasional yeti problem here and there. An enclave on the ascent of a mountain, steam rolling from those hot spring pools. A young female, upon careful inspection, finds herself enjoying those natural springs. Lowering herself under that water she misses the subtle crunch of leaves beneath heavy boots. The male glancing to the pile of armor, noting the blue and white tabard of the clan, finding himself hiding behind the only cover of bushes and a tree. Re-breaking the surface of the water she sighs as hand wander that youthful green skin. Wide set hips, large bosom, taute muscles forming around these assets. The body built for mothering children not of fighting and war, but this woman had only seen that, the scars could attest to that. The males eyes watched carefully as her hands roamed, eyeing that Frostwolf Insignia upon her left arm, watching fingers tuck that auburn hair behind a pointed pierced ear. She moved towards her items, and he shifted with a sickening crack of a branch under his boot. And like that the female before him tensed with that low growl escaping her throat.

“Who's there? Who steps foot into Frostwolf Territory?” As quickly as she tensed, sat a white wolf in her place, those blue eyes boring into the bushes where the affronting sound resounded from. That large wolven form, about six and a half foot in height. Toned muscles meant for running and bringing down prey larger then her, large paws to keep her steady.

He sat quiet for a moment, before shifting, holding his hands up. “I mean you no harm, I'm seeking information. Something I believe your clan could help with.”

Those eyes narrowed suspiciously, as that muzzle wrinkled up bearing those teeth at him. “Acquiring information from hiding in bushes is foolishness. Besides seeking legends only leads to disappointment elf.” That slight snap of teeth with that mention of legends.

The elf furrowed his white brows. “Legends, is not what i'm after. Your one of the oldest clans, perhaps you have some information on your fellows?”

The female paced back and forth so ever slightly. “Which fellow do you speak of?” Bluntly she asked.

He simply watched her. “Do you recall a certain elf amongst your ranks, a ranger perhaps?”

She snorted, only to perk her ears at that. “The only elf I recall that we welcomed with open arms was “Dawnstrider.” Her fur bristled. “What of our brother?”

The male simply mused at that. “I was looking into information about a troll that he use to run with. . I need to bring Dawnstrider to him.”

The wolfess neither backed down nor pursued. “Did the troll give you his full name perhaps?”

The elf gauged her quietly. “Castien Dawnstrider.” Came the reply.

She paused her pacing slightly. “What is wrong with the troll?”

He merely said in a cool tone. “It's his final request that Castien would be at his side.”

Bowing her massive head and grabbing her items. “Very well then, I will go fetch him. We shall meet at the crossroads just down the road.” And just like that she was off towards her way into the valley.

A mere twenty minutes later, a fair haired ranger with a large black wolf at his side and the familiar orcess at his side met the white haired elven at the crossroads. “Sir...you found him?” Castien merely spoke quietly, almost in despair at what had been told to him about the trolls condition.

“That I did, let us hurry.” Gesturing them to follow, Castien going along easily, as Khouska merely narrowed her eyes watching the white haired elf cautiously. He seemed genuinely concerned about the trolls' last request, and to come that far, gave cause to believe him more so.

They arrived to the trolls resting spot, not too far from where he had fallen with such grievous injuries to his side. Castien paused at that sight, that look of sheer horror. “Ru! Wh-what happened to you?!”

Ruijin merely coughed softly. “Almost t'ought you weren't coming dere elfy.” That shakey inhale of a breath. “Held on ta see you, one last time.”

Cast shook his head. “No you, you were always the toughest out of us both. You'll make it...”

Khouska merely shook her head, frowning deeply. Ru merely smirked a bit at that. “Shhh..shhh, dats not the brave face I remember elfy.” The troll merely clasping Castien's shoulder squeezing it with what strength he had. “Keep fighting, keep learning wat I taught ya. Ya made me proud to fight beside ya Casty. Do me proud now, ya keep living.” He lets out a hacking cough.

Cast touched the cool metal. “Ru...I can't.” That soft. “Ya can, and ya will.” Escaped the troll in that last moment, his hand fell from the blonde's shoulder. That look on Castien's face as he shook him slightly. “Ru...Ru!” Those ears laid back, as tears pricked the corners of the youngers' eyes. The white haired elf paused for a long moment looking on as the younger was grieving. Silence befell the trio as Castien refused to leave his friends' side just yet.

Khouska breaking that silence. “Perhaps a proper ceremony would be befitting.” Wordlessly the blonde nodded, as she prepped a burning.

Cast spoke softly. “Friend, what is your name? So I can thank you for bringing me to him.”

The white haired elf mused softly. “Lightmourn.”

Castien tried to quell his remorse for his loss. “Thank you Lightmourn, at least I got to say goodbye.” That burning ceremony, as prayers were sent along the wind with the ashes of his friend. A promise that would be fulfilled in time.

Part 2


The following morning broke through those thick, low rising clouds in the valley. Looked as if were going to snow today, but then again rarely did that weather ever change enough at this altitude. Castien was still buried underneath furs of the hut, both Khou and Lightmourn allowing the boy time to grieve in his own way. That chill of the air as she pulled the pelt closer about her body offering a bowl of gruel to the elf. “I know it isn't much but, it'll stick to your bones at least.” Finding her seat about the fire, as Lightmourn merely looked at that contents with a look of disgust. Those long quiet moments drew between the two in that morning twilight, at least till the blonde rustled awake.

Regarding the two. “Lightmourn...would you be willing to teach me to fight, to become stronger so I can wield this as an honor to my fallen brother?”

Light paused for a moment mid-bite with a clearing of his throat. “I should be returning to my post to the Scryers' but I could teach you along the way, if...you are willing to learn.”

Cast perked up those ears. “Of course I am, I want to push myself, to be something better. I want to learn.”

Khouska smirked to herself watching how the blonde was so earnest in his request. “You could spend a few more days here if you wish, use our training supplies so he has a basic understanding before you shove off.”

First morning of training, Lightmourn was up before both Khouska and Castien. To wake him up he mused as he shouldered his axes first calling to the elf. When that didn't work, he shifted those blades so they come tumbling down sinking into the ground beside Castien's head. That thick noise of the blade cutting into the ground by his ears, being scared to death as he shot straight up. Lightmourn only to chime. “Ah, finally awake, now back to training.”

Over the next few days, Castien built up his basic knowledge of how to hold such a weapon. His muscles jerked with movements as Lightmourn as powerful as he was still had that elven grace which intrigued Khouska. She found herself every day watching them both train, watching the white haired elven more and more. How such powerful arcs can be controlled as such. Even their sparring matches she found herself enjoying to watch.

Castien swiped his wooden blade towards Lightmourn as he parried it, shifting that blade quickly to hit his side. “Dead.”

Resetting themselves Cast went on the attack once again, a block, and a dodge. Lightmourn merely lifting his brows to meet his hairline as Castien brought that sword over his head only to find the tip of Light's at his throat. “Very dead.”

“You move without defense, the power is there, but with no control you cannot defend yourself. Again.” Their spars went on like this for sometime.

Later on, after nightfall, returning to her hut, Khouska was confronted by another female. “Morka... give me a heart attack will you?”

“You spend far too much time with those elves, sister. You know why were here and you're not searching for it.” The elder glared at her younger sibling, dragging her out from the camp out of earshot from anyone except those wolves.

“Will you stop with this whole, legend. There is nothing here! And I will not continue to search uselessly.” Khouska merely snarled.

Morka snorted lowly. “Then we will return, empty handed. There is no need for us to stay here.”

“Im not leaving, I refuse to go back to there.” That tensed body, wrenching her arm away from her sister's grip.

“Then you my dear, are a traitor. No better then those who blindly look away from our true destiny!”

“No, you can go back tail tucked and ask for forgiveness. But I have seen enough of that hell!” Khouska slamming her foot on the ground causing that shake under Morka's feet.

Morka lerched forward trying to connect her fist with any part of Khouska she could manage, that snarl of their fighting echoing through the valley, sounding nothing more then mere wolves. Blow after blow was exchanged, Khouska pushing Morka away, over powering her and onto her back, holding back her axe from a killing blow. “Get out of here. Never come back. Or next time I see you, I will show no mercy.” She growls lowly, as a battered Morka retreats only after making that promise. “I'll be sure one day, you'll loose everything sister. Mark my words.” Khouska lunged slightly chasing her off, that low snort escaping her as she headed back to her hut.

The following morning both Castien and Lightmourn are seen packing up what they do have, and taking some rations with them. An elder, looks solemn but understanding that this is his choice to leave. From afar Khou watches on as the elder steps away from the two elves with her own pack, she finds herself by their sides. “Are we ready to go?”

Castien pauses. “Aren't you staying here?”

Khouska shakes her head. “It is no longer my place to be here. I sense my path leading me somewhere else. And this, feels like a step in the right direction.”

Lightmourn regards the female carefully, only to let out an amused noise. “Well then, let's get moving then. It's a far ways from here to the Scryer's Tier.” Shouldering his pack and weapons, Castien almost look like he could toddle over with that large axe, his black wolf by his side as well. Khouska shakes her head, pulling that wolven pelt over her head, after taking one last look in the valley. A bow of her head before moving out of the valley and onto the traveling road.

As they traveled, Castien's training continued and each day there was some improvement.

Tho one evening about two days travel from the Tier itself, once everyone was settled for the night, Castien grabbed what items he had, making the choice to choose his own path. Whether it would be to continue to the Scryer's or to carve one for himself.

Part 3

Back in that small house, the boys stopped their fussing and made themselves content with playing with the toys that seemed so brittle to the touch. The elven watched her as she dragged herself around the house, seemingly that dust she tried to clean never coming off. Her gaze glancing over the little nick-nacks placed along one of the side tables in the room. Her fingers grazed that worn wood, glancing to the old lamp that bore no wick nor oil. A leather bound journal with papers sticking every which way out of it, its red leather dulled, the gem at its center loosing its luster. Her fingers grazed that worn book, those papers written in that foreign tongue. She held onto it fully with both hands as she flipped through it slowly as that echo of screams finding their way into that small space, along with a familiar reciting of a quote.

“In the beginning was shadow eternal. HATE blazed forth, and fire was born. Wounds scabbed, and so beget earth. Cries of anguish birthed howling wind. Wherein the skies wept seas of tears. We live in shadow, The world we know, Built of rage, hurt, anguish and sorrow.” She found herself amongst those other initiates dressed in black and purple. Reciting the beliefs of what the cultists stood for, against her will. But for her to survive she would have to pretend, play this lackey for a while longer until the opportunity of escape would show it self.

“Very good! Seems you whelps will prove useful to us. As for your reward, you shall see death! Death of those who are unworthy of our leader's grace!” The male orc bellowed. She swallowed hard, steeling herself as five hooded figures were lead upon the elevated ground, forcing them to kneel removing those bags from their heads. Men, Women, Children, Young, Old, Sick and Healthy. It did not matter as long as their blood ran along the ground. Her gaze catching one of the leaders, the only thing she could do was act, as much as it sickened her to her stomach to do so. Those yell up roaring from the crowd as soon those heads rolled, each with a horrified expression which only fed the blood lust of these cretins. As soon as it started, it was over, she found herself heading back to her quarters, steeling herself each step of the way, only to feel a hand on her shoulder.

“You did well today sister...I didn't think you had it in you.” Morka smirked at that.

Khouska only being able to return the gaze with a nod. “They were unworthy, thusly why it had to be done.” Came the quipped reply.

“Come, there's something I'd like for you to see.” Steering her along, to where the children were kept.
“Wh-what are we doing here?” Khou merely furrowed her brow watching the young bent on knee as a warlock hovered nearby.

“Just watch.” Morka's grasp never easing as if making sure she was to watch it.

Before her six children, forcibly aged to fight. Loosing their childhood to fight for the end of the world. Khouska steeled her features, but inside. The mental anguish of her staying quiet was killing her. How she wanted to lash out and stop this, but there was no choice in the matter. The sickening crunch and popping of bones of out socket. The screams of the children as their bodies expanded into adults. She only tensed once and that was a particularly sickening noise of a boys hips popping in and out of their sockets.

“Why?” Came the soft reply as the children laid there recovering.

“Pah! We can't have an army of children. So we make use of them that swear themselves to fight.” Morka chimed.

“And those who do not swear?” Her gaze finally met Morkas'.

“Simple. They become fodder for the beasts.” Morka said cooly, not like throwing children to the wolves was a big deal.

“I've seen enough. I need to head to my quarters and study.” Pushing Morka's hand off her shoulder, finding herself stepping a bit faster back to her room. With that door shut, she allows her head to fall into her hands, not even having the energy to allow herself a grieving moment for what she found out. Even the scent of death lingered everywhere she went. Not even those moments away from the camps, provided enough cleansing breaths to make this bearable.

Months passed within these encampments. Fights scheduled against one another to determine ranking. Executions of those who failed their assignments. The daily classes of torturing the weak with dark magics. Missions of wiping out civillian housings, in the dark of night, butchering of innocents. Khouska watched and waited, collecting reports that she could manage without much problems.

That sound of screams resounding in her mind as she dropped that book, those shaky breaths as she slumped against the table. Shaking slightly recalling that memory, her hands firmly clasped over her ears. The elven got up as quickly as he could holding onto her to keep her upright.

“What's wrong?” That expression on the males face, was that of concern.

Khou found herself turning against him and holding onto him. “The sounds and smells of death. The sights of ...” She shook her head as if trying to get it out of her mind, clinging to him as if she didn't have the energy to hold herself upright.

Part 4

Locked in his arms she righted herself finding that footing once again. “Im fine...im fine.” He gave her that look of suspicion. “I promise.” The elven still held onto her as her hand cupped her face, shaking that realization from her. “Those....those are memories that I rather not dwell upon.”

The elven merely tilted his head with that concerned look about him. “What memories?”

She heaved that sigh. “Something I'd rather not dwell upon, it is rather in the past nor cannot be changed.”

Her features flinched as those echoing screams of children found their way back to the fore front of her mind. The elven simply ushers her back to sit on the edge of that bed, which left out a hellish squeal of rusted springs. Cupping her face into her hands, as she merely shook as those images of flesh tearing, limbs being devoured by the wolven that they rode. Tears warm against her cheeks as those memories come full circle. Even the mistreatment she would receive if she even hesitated at a single moment when out on a mission. Those scars along her body can attest to that. The elven held her close as those tremors along her body finally after those long moments slowed enough, as his brow furrowed and knitted together.

That soft whisper escaping him. “Khou?”

Her face was still buried against him. “Don't...” She turned her face to look at him with that serious look upon her face, her palm brushing away what tears did fall. “It's in the past, no more then a nightmare now.”

He froze for a moment watching her as she righted herself, looking a bit more sluggish then before. “Aside...it's my own burden to bear.” Her back towards him, her finger tips avoiding that journal that laid askew-ed upon the table as she shook her head, that hand hovering over it before moving on. That gaze of hers flickering to the large axe laying against the wall. “Where...did this come from?” She murmured.

The elven merely perked his brows at that. “Does it look familiar to you?”

Her finger tips grazed that handle with that soft sound. “It reminds me of my fathers.” Lifting it up that familiar squeal of leather bindings under her hands, her face faltering just slightly. “Still smells like home.” That familiar scent of wood fire, herbs and talbuk wafted through the air. “I remember when I was little trying to pick this up, oh how he would fuss me.” She smirked a bit to herself. “And then wind up giving me my own set of little axes.”

The sound of a childs laugh running towards a large draenei. “Papa! Papa! Lookit what I caught!” A small girl holding up a bullfrog as the draeneic male picked her up laughing. “Well then! Aren't you just my little frog catcher this year.” Those giggles escaping from the smaller one as she sat on her father's shoulders. “Think ill name him....Froggy.” The male simply laughed. “Froggy the tenth now?” That fervent nod from the child, as father and daughter worked out in the fields with those large hooved creatures. But two other sets of eyes looked upon them, one shaking her head. As the other younger set frowned. “Morka....back to your studies.” The younger turned her gaze from that scene. “Yes mother.”

One day a knock came to the door, as a small Khouska answered the door, looking up to a most peculiar creature. “Papa! There's a strange pointy eared man and woman here!” That draenei shaking his head as he came to the door. “Pardon my daughter friend, how can I help you?” That white haired male bowed his head slightly. “Children...are always outspoken. It does not offend, but would you be able to provide refuge, at least till my companion and I are healed enough to find our group?” The draenei nodded with a soft sound. “Ill get my healing supplies...please make your self at home.”

Time skips forward, now that small girl a teenager training with her father. An adventure to speak to the elements, meditating with them, even those trials of learning to ask for their aide, let alone for her to gain insight to the shamanic clan. Each vision passes of an aging Khouska, from her first failed attempts, to her succeeding. And then to that final moment when she was accepted as an Earthen Ring member. Bearing that proud smile, simple leather armor with prayer beads looped about her neck. Feathers weaved into her long mane of hair, whipped by the wind. Her father looks on at her with that smile. “You've grown up far too fast pup.”

Khouska merely mused. “Oh papa...it's not like I'm going anywhere. My place is here with the family.”

He sighed softly. “Oh one day you'll feel your papa is too old or too slow. Plus, you're a shaman, there will be times you're called upon.” He nudges her cheek playfully with his knuckles, only to grin. “And I won't be the cause from you doing your duty.” She mock shoves him only to laugh.

“Come now I think your acceptance is cause for celebration no?”

Khou merely gave him that look. “You papa, you only want a cause to tear into that sweetbread.”

That mock look of hurt. “Well I never!”

Those fits of laughter and reminiscing went on throughout the night, father and daughter musing together. At least till after Khou long went to bed, that ruckus outside causing her father to stir. Shaking her awake. “Pup...Pup you have to get up.” That harsh urged tone, something was amiss.

She startled awake only to sigh. “Papa? What's going on?”

The male shook his head. “Something doesn't feel right. Your mother is up to something, and I think shes even gotten your sister in on it.”

“Morka? No she wouldn't.” She shifted out of her bed tugging on those pieces of armor as quickly, as her father stuffed her bag, placing a trinket within that satchel.

Ushering her out to where the trained talbuk stayed. “Go, stay low, stay safe. Find the elders of the ring.” Helping her up onto the saddle and fastening the bags.

“Come with me father.” That look of fright within her gaze.

“No pup I will distract them for as long as I can, now go!” His hand coming down cracking the animal in the flank, the large beast taking off across the plains before Khou could say another word. That image of red eyed orcs descending upon her home, and her father right in the middle of them.

That thud of a weapon onto the ground, as her brows furrowed in though, and with that glazed look. “I...I abandoned my father.” Her eyes searched only to narrow, looking at her hands. “Even with all my training, I couldn't save the one person, that raised me.”

Part 5 (After the Storm-Mumford and Sons)

The elven watched her for a long moment. “Couldn't save him? What do you mean by that?” That tensed body language from the female as her fists balled up.

“Because of me, he died. Because he had to save me, in the end he sacrificed himself for me.” Her ears laid back at that.

“How so?” The male countered a little too easily, that haze in the room from the old lanterns lit. Their gloomy light filling that room, as Khouska turned her head. “Khouska...tell me what happened?”

That hurt filled gaze looked at him. “You tell me you don't remember that....of all the things you've seen me through, that one thing I lost in my life, that only resemblance of family I had when I was a child!” The voice harsh with just pain and sorrow.

Two groups faced each other, one clad in gold and black, the other in rich purples. An echo of war cries as four figures left the main battle field. The clashing of metal of the males fighting, the females at each others throats as spells collide with one another. “How dare you betray us! Youre nothing but the mutt we found those years ago!”

“Found?!” The other halted just for a single moment. “YOU! Where Is my father, you heartless bitch!” That snarled echo’d from her as she went on that attack once more, the elder’s spell colliding with her head on.

“Oh no…you figured it out didn’t you….” That spell putting fear into Khou’s mind. “Your nothing but the well fare whelp we took in. Kraanvir was never your father…you stole him from Morka whom was his rightful child my dear. He never truly loved you pest.” The snarling from Khou subsided for the moment when images of her father, within the cultist tents, being tortured entered her mind. “Because of you child….he has suffered.” Images of being burned with magic, his life energy keeping the elder orc living. She was using him the entire time to stay alive, ebbing his life away piece by piece.

That jolt of pain through Khouska’s body as she struggled. “No…that’s where your wrong.” On her hands and knees she eyed her step mother in front of her. “Tokilla…he did what he did, because he loved me.” A pained hitch of breath. “Despite my blood, I will always be his pup.” She snarled lowly, pushing that feeling of fear and doubt aside, shakily getting up a firm foot planted on the ground, brandishing her axes and sending a lightning bolt right at the warlock. With all her might she rushed her. “No more! It ends now!” Taking those axes and slashing amongst the locks body, those shrieks and howls of pain to be cut short as the guard of her axe handle found its mark upon Tokilla’s face.

Shifting from that lifeless body, its blackened blood staining the ground, she heaved herself up staggering towards the sounds of the males, finding herself staring at Lightmourn with his blade near the orcs throat. “You won’t k-kill me…” That rasped cough left the male orc glaring at the elven.

“No I won’t…” Moving that blade from the orc, as Khou glared at the male on the ground, heaving a sigh of relief. At least till Khou spoke. “But…I will.” The look of sheer horror as she brought down her hand axe lopping off the orcs head in one fell swoop. The male elven watching her from the corner of his eyes, with an unreadable expression plastered on his features.

Wiping her axe on her kilt. “We have to find him.”

The elven gauged her. “Find who?”

“My father.”

The scene skips forward to the opening of a tent and her father heaving his breaths. “Papa!” That clatter of her axes as she rushes towards him trying to help him sit up right those blue orbs loosing that glow that’s known of his people.

“Pup….you’re safe…” She had him leaned against her legs.

“I’m safe because of you papa…and my companion.” She swallows hard watching him intently.

Kraanvir coughs softly with a pained smile, as that far off gaze looked towards the elven. “Such a good lad –wheeze- looking after my daughter like that…” Lightmourn raised his brows at that. “Promise me… you’ll watch over her.” The elf merely pauses just for a moment. “Of course.”

Khou’s face was wet from tears. “You’ve made me awful proud pup. Mind yourself…while I’m gone.” Those soft rasped whispers escaping him.

“No…no papa. We can heal you…you’ll be alright, you’ll see.” Her answer was a shake of his head as she tried her best to do what she could.

“It’s ok pup…I need the rest…” His hand weakly cupped her face, as his eyes closed. That soft exhale from him, his hand only to fall moments later from her grasp.

“Papa?....” That hitch of breath escaping her. “No…no…” She held onto him, as she started that sobbing her entire body shaking, her face buried against his chest.

The elven giving her a moment, found himself knelt beside her a hand on her shoulder. “Khouska…” He gently pulled her away from that body, her planting herself against his neck sobbing hard, arms clinging to him. His long ears laid back with that soft sound as he merely held her close, looking towards her father. “I promise.”

The leather cried out as her hands squeezed the bindings of the axe in her hand. Tears pricking at her eyes as she shook her head. “I thought….that, that day that would have been my last taste of loss.” Setting the axe back against the wall, wiping her face with the back of her hand. “I was sorely mistaken, that my past would not come back to bite me.”