#Vak'ha Marshblade

[actualpanda]

Enter The Stranger

Follows the events of The Unsettled Present.

There was a silent, cold embrace in the darkness, then the night drew over him once more, carrying a touch of loneliness that Vak’ha Marshblade had not felt in years. The old Warsong shaman rolled onto his side. His life was once again a solitary one. His mate was leaving for Azeroth once more – and as strong as she was, he did not know when he would see her again. Inari had always been the stronger of them, and she had known it; had comforted him in it. Never had she gloated or boasted. It had been her fierce fire that kept him alive throughout their time in the Zangarmarsh, had seen them through the shattering of Draenor and the formation of Outland… And once again, in her absence, he found himself lost within the last gaze she had given him.

There are things that we both must do.

He blinked and looked over the small hut. The place Tahkagar had kept within it was tidied in a meticulous manner, the mage having hugged his father one last time before leaving early in the morning, before the first songs of dawn had come over the horizon, for Shattrath. From there, Inari and he would return to Azeroth.

His groggy thoughts came to the matter of his youngest son. Jangvir had stopped being part of his life two years ago, and every time Vak’ha thought of him, he could only think of the lingering anger in his voice. Why didn’t you raise a hand to stop Hellscream, father? Was there any bravery in holding your tongue?

It filled his heart with shame. His wife and sons had taken up the righteous cause. They had opposed the would-be tyrant, one of their own clan, who would have driven a spear through the heart of the Horde. The man who would have dealt the Orcish peoples a blow that they could not recover from – Garrosh Hellscream, son of Grom. Inari, Tahkagar, and Jangvir had left Outland for Azeroth to fight Garrosh’s efforts, and when they returned, they were very different people.

Inari did not judge him for his inaction. She knew the measure of her mate in her heart, and war was not one for the faint-hearted. Tahkagar had not stayed long at all, returning to Azeroth in short order, and his true thoughts were known only to him. But Vak’ha had not been able to meet Jangvir’s eyes, for when he did so, the accusation within them filled him with shame. That shame had quashed his voice even as he opened his lips. The arguments he had thought of for months failed in that instant. He was unworthy of his son’s trust. Jangvir had followed in his path until that point, had been the child he knew and loved best…

Now he was gone, and on his own road. If that road led him to face the Legion, Vak’ha did not know.

He closed his eyes and a scowl formed on his lips.

No. His sons were orcs; once their mind was made up, especially on a matter of honor, the only thing that could stop them was if they were knocked silly. And even that was no guarantee.

He sighed and buried his head in the covers – wishing that he could, would, be blessed with an insight that had eluded him.

…

It was many hours before he woke again, the grogginess of the night having passed from his mind. He did not have a moment that made the world entirely clear…but he did think that he had made a step along that road.

In the eyes of Jangvir, I have cast aside my honor and left us all weak. I did not join my family in their fight against Garrosh Hellscream. And now…I am little more than a peon in his eyes. He scowled at this idea. To him, even a peon would be more useful to a cause of war than I was.

A great shuddering gasp left his lips as he sat up. This he did reluctantly, for the covers of his bed were of the finest netherweave in Outland. Then he cleared his throat and his mind. Now that he had found his realization, it would do him little good to sit on it. To lie still after one had been given knowledge - this was not the orcish way.

He heard footsteps on the load road from Garadar. The air spoke first to him, in a whispered tone. Vak’ha at once made himself decent, quickly gathering a heavy hide that his grandfather had shaped into a tunic and vestments decades ago. He slung the wolf’s hide about his shoulders, and it draped down his torso, hugging the curve of his gut. It was the pelt of one of few Garn to have ever walked the plains of Nagrand. To think that they had once roamed freely over Draenor…

Then the Legion arrived and Draenor had changed forever. As far as Vak’ha knew, the Garn had not survived anywhere in Outland, and most sightings were dismissed as a watcher having drunk one too many before watch duty. The wolves truly ruled this place, or so it is said. Orcs and draenai marked the place with cities and villages, but the garn and the wolves are the ones who truly knew the land. Their calls to the night…how I miss them.

There was a metaphor there, and he had a feeling he’d have many more of them to impart.

He stepped to the front of his hut and looked to the road. A heavyset visitor stood there, wearing loose robes that covered their physique and offered protection against both heat and cold. It was the first time Vak’ha had gotten a very good look at someone from beyond Azeroth; he blinked twice to make sure he was not staring at an apparition. Truly, there were orcs who gained mass later in life, and Vak’ha had done so himself, but this stranger wore their bulk so naturally that it made Vak’ha somewhat envious. Once satisfied, he met the stranger’s eyes. Both of the traveler’s eyes gleamed with a soft cerulean glow. In night, they might have been luminous. Three braids hung from the stranger’s heavy features – one below each of the fluffy red-furred ears, another dangling below their chin. His inspection complete, Vak’ha bowed his head in greeting.

“You seem to be going somewhere.” He spoke decisively, with little room for uncertainty in his voice. “Can I help you?”

The outsider was taller than his son by two to three inches, which meant they stood taller than Vak’ha by almost half a foot. Their build would have made for an imposing mark, to say the least, which was probably why despite their well-maintained robes and kindly demeanor, they had not been set upon by anyone. Or, at least, they didn’t look as though they had. “It’s possible that you might.” The traveler admitted, the guttural tones of Orcish steady and deep, but betraying youth and inexperience. Vak’ha nodded, and the stranger continued. “I’m looking for someone - a shaman of the Warsong clan by the name of Vak’ha Marshblade.” The outsider’s thick eyebrows softly furled. “Might you know of him?”

“Know of him?” Vak’ha suppressed a dry chuckle, then stood out from the hut. “Most certainly. I am the one you are looking for!” A gruff chuckle escaped his lips, and he folded both arms over his gut and bowed fully. “Did one of ice send you in search of me, traveler?”

The outsider looked positively baffled, confusion creeping into their cerulean eyes. “Oh. Oh!” A smile spread across their lips. White fur alternated with reddish-brown – how interesting! Vak’ha kept his attention on the visitor’s features as they shaped their words. Orcish was a guttural, fiercely spoken language, but it did not seem to slow his visitor down. If anything, they spoke with greater grace than Vak’ha had heard Orcish spoken in years. “I was sent by one who called himself ‘Ice Wolf’.” The stranger clasped one heavy hand into a fist, then clenched it to their open palm in a salute.

“My son, then.” Vak’ha shook his head, a soft smile playing across his lips. “And who might you be?”

“Lixi-Ong Bramblefoot, son of Dan-Cha and Qui Bramblefoot. Pandaren by birth, in spirit, and body.” Lixi-Ong thumped his expansive middle with a heavy hand, causing it to wobble. A soft grin played about the corners of their lips. “Well…now that I have found you, I was told you might be able to help me. And I wished to see if this was true.”

“Perhaps it is.” Vak’ha shrugged. “You are welcome to stay as long as you must in my lodge, and I shall see what it is I can offer you.”

Lixi bowed his heavy head and nodded once.

[actualpanda]

The Unsettled Present

(Featuring Tahkagar and his family - I meant to write more about Tahkagar a while ago, as well to level him, and...well, something else happened. Namely, I fell in love with elemental shaman and started leveling a new character >_>)

His thoughts were cool and collected. It was a warm evening on the fields of Nagrand, and for Vak’ha Marshblade, warm evenings meant many things. They could be the last calm period before a thunderstorm that lasted several days and nights, or the warning of a dust storm about to hit the plains. But tonight, this warm evening meant the old shaman of the Warsong clan mused and meditated on the world. He sat, legs folded, and listened to the ever-present hum of life in the world around him.

There’d been a time, not so long ago, where he had not known the plain as home. Where the world he knew had been reduced to a swamp, with massive stalks and hidden caps concealing the very stars. Where the slightest misstep might spell disaster, where the first wrong choice one made that day could well be the last decision they ever made.

The sound of a waterfly’s hum, just a few inches away from his ears, did not distract Vak’ha from his thoughts of the past. The present was ever at his fingertips, and the future remained to be shaped… He chuckled. A few years ago, the notion of ever becoming a farseer, of living long enough to become one, would have been patently absurd.

There was a tickle in his mind – a sensation of a language that had taken him years to learn, to speak, to understand…and to be understood, for understanding without being understood was somewhat frivolous. Especially so, considering his calling meant that he dealt with ancient forces that had been around since the very forging of the world.

After a few moments, he understood the meaning of the words. This was followed by the sound of his name on the wind, the dry rattling of the reeds of the nearby streambed. Then the air cooled...

Vak’ha chuckled – he knew that influence well.

As he stood, his meditations complete, he knew that he would be graced by the presence of his son. The wind offered to carry that name back – but Vak’ha politely declined that offer. Some things were best done in person, after all.

…

When Vak’ha arrived back at the small home that his mate and he occupied, just outside of the small settlement, he saw that quite a few things had changed. For one, there was the smell of freshly cooked food, though it was different. Like it had originated from another world entirely. That wasn’t unusual; here in Outland, many things had changed over the past few decades. There were other places beyond this one – whole new worlds. Ethereals often came this way, other times, it was the Draenai, and still others, completely different beings. Vak’ha had not seen many of them.

Within the home, Inari sat, his life-mate’s brown eyes carrying a warmth that he knew well. It was the kind of warmth that was only present when their son returned home. There was still ferocious strength in those eyes, but Inari was at peace. The year she had spent beyond Outland had changed her in many ways.

Perhaps I need a year beyond Outland myself. Vak’ha suppressed a chuckle. As though he would leave Nagrand of his own will... This place was home, and it would always be so for him. Then again, Inari had felt the same way and she had left for a time to find her own road, hadn’t she?

Tahkagar sat on the ground, cold wafting off of him. The Ice Wolf had returned home, and he was heavier still through the gut than the last time he had returned. At the sight of Vak’ha, he stood at once and met his father’s eyes…before embracing him.

Despite the fact that his son was cold to the touch, Vak’ha wrapped both arms about his son’s chest and hugged him fiercely. “Ice Wolf.” He murmured. “You are back.”

Tahkagar didn’t flinch, but instead relaxed. He chuckled as he softly stepped out of the hug a few moments later. “You’ve added weight too, I see.”

“I have!” Vak’ha chuckled. “I took your advice from the last time. Was it…six months back?”

“Seven months and ten days.” Tahkagar said softly. He was the kind of person who never forgot such things. “I am glad to see you well.”

“Beloved.” Inari’s voice was deep. “Our son has news.”

Tahkagar nodded, sitting down once again. Vak’ha sat near Inari, his mate’s hand coming to rest on his broad shoulders. “Well…” Vak’ha murmured. “What has changed in the world, Ice Wolf?”

This made his son chuckle. Ice Wolf was a nickname, though it accurately described his son’s nature. But then the chuckle faded, Tahkagar’s expression becoming severe. “…the Legion that turned our people into the thralls of the demons has returned to Azeroth.” His voice was soft. “Many hundreds have died. Perhaps thousands.”

“Tens of thousands?” Inari’s voice shook.

Tahkagar shook his head. “I hope not, but I do not know the scope of the destruction. I only know that they have returned. And as it always does, suffering has followed in the Legion’s wake.”

“…you could have sent a messenger to tell us that.” Vak’ha murmured quietly.

His son raised a hand. “I could have, yes, but there is more than just that. I felt it important enough to tell you in person. The Legion has returned, but Azeroth has not fallen. You remember the demon hunters, yes?”

Vak’ha’s lips formed a decisive frown. “…those who fight fire with fire.” He murmured. At Tahkagar’s quizzical look, Vak’ha chuckled. “The wind has not forgotten them. What of them?”

“They have returned to fight the Legion. Others stand with them. The Alliance and the Horde…”

Inari huffed in annoyance, and Tahkagar’s voice trailed off. He always allowed his mother to speak. “I do not understand why they would keep that name.” She said, her voice low and cold. Almost as cold as the magic her elder son possessed. “Go on.”

“Saurfang has taken charge of matters.” Tahkagar’s voice was a murmur. “He leads the defense of our people in Azeroth now.”

“Wait…Saurfang leads?!” Inari’s voice rose in tone and shock. She had been there, though – the day that Garrosh Hellscream’s reign over the Horde had ended. A new leader had been chosen. “What of Vol’jin?”

The way her son paused in his speech indicated that he was greatly hesitant to say what had happened. But under the blazing fire in Inari’s eyes, he relented. “The Horde and Alliance met the Legion on a distant island.” He spoke softly. “They fought the Legion, but were turned back. Vol’jin was mortally injured.” He met Inari’s eyes. “He died several days later.”

A harsh cry tore from Inari’s throat. Vak’ha closed his eyes tightly. That his wife grieved the loss of this Vol’jin meant that they had likely met – and that his mate had been greatly impressed. She had not mourned as such when word of other deaths, even of her own family members, had reached them.

Then again, Inari’s family has always misunderstood her. And myself. He clenched a hand into a fist.

“We did not know.” Vak’ha murmured softly. “I am pleased you felt this news important enough to deliver in person.”

“It has been largely suppressed.” Tahkagar said in return. “The Legion delights in chaos.”

Inari’s voice returned to her, though it was with soft efforts to suppress the grief in her heart. “I will go back to Azeroth with you.” She said in a determined tone. “The Legion must be stopped, and I cannot do so here.”

Vak’ha’s heart raced. No! He at once closed his eyes. His family was going to fracture again. Jangvir, their youngest son, was in Shattrath – and he barely spoke to Vak’ha these days. His road had become even more painful to walk.

But his mate had always been a woman of action. From birth, she had been a fierce member of the Warsong clan – perhaps one of its fiercest warriors. Was it so wrong to want peace for her, though? They had waited out the Burning Horde in the wilderness of the Zangarmarsh once…

His thoughts were interrupted as his son spoke. “If you are certain that is wise…” Tahkagar began.

Inari raised a hand, her eyes blazing. “It is.” She said quietly. “What good is the peace we know, if the suffering of others continues?”

It was the sort of point that she had raised time and again. Vak’ha had no answer at all for his mate in such things. She was right – to know peace while others were being tormented and hounded by the Legion was an absurd notion. Inari Marshblade had always been a fighter.

“You would not alone on some sort of a one-woman crusade against the Legion, mother.” Tahkagar chuckled. “There are a lot of people fighting them.”

Inari stood at once, her mind clearly made up. “Good.” She said firmly. “I shall see if others have the fighting spirit that I do in the village before I go.”

Before Vak’ha could raise a hand, Inari met his eyes. The twin fires of ferocity and determination danced in her gaze. “This home will stand when you return, beloved one.” Vak’ha murmured, standing up.

A quick embrace later, and his life-mate had left their home. She didn’t ask Vak’ha for his blessing – but then again, Vak’ha Marshblade knew his mate well. Once she’d decided, her mind could not be dissuaded from such a thing.

There was a part of him that wanted to be swept away at how quickly the world around him had changed. The part of him that knew better refused such, however.

“Did you come so that your mother would go to war, son?” He asked, a tremor coming to his lips.

Tahkagar met his father’s gaze, then stood. “…no.” He answered. “And yes.”

“Explain.”

His son’s heavy belly softly rose and fell as he breathed, thinking his answer over. When he spoke, his voice carried his mother’s determination. “Mother is the fiercest fighter I know. She is proudest when she can make a difference for the better. And I have seen the Legion myself.” He held up a hand softly. “I have fought them. They are powerful, but they are not invincible. They can be stopped. They have to be.” He met the eyes of Vak’ha once again. “I did notice you did not attempt to stop her.”

Vak’ha chuckled dryly. “Stop your mother? Perish the thought. She’d have cracked my elbow and left me with a bruised skull for trying.” He sighed heavily. “But she cannot, will not, stay here.” He smiled suddenly. “You have given her a good reason to leave!”

Tahkagar seemed more than a little surprised by the smile.

“You know…I’m rather glad you came back.” Vak’ha nodded swiftly. “She’s been looking for a reason to go back to Azeroth, and I think she was happiest there with her friends. The monks of…Pandaria?”

Tahkagar nodded, indicating that Vak’ha had said that word correctly. “She was happy, yes.” He said softly. “I think when she sees what has happened to them, her resolve will be heightened.”

“They were also attacked by the Legion?”

“Yes.” Tahkagar answered. “They are some of the fiercest combatants against the Legion.”

Vak’ha snarled something under his breath. The Legion would find a way to ruin the lives of those who had helped his mate find the kind of peace that had eluded her for years.

“If the Legion wanted to destroy their spirit, they failed.” Tahkagar continued. “There was…something else I wished to ask you. It’s the main reason I returned…until I came to the village and found that many had no idea what had happened in Azeroth these past few months.”

“You are a mage, but even you could not slip away from the conflict until it had become more controlled.” Vak’ha murmured.

Tahkagar huffed a breath through his nose and nodded. “Things have been chaotic these past few weeks. We have a measure of peace, but I do not know how long it will last.”

“Which is why you needed mother to help secure that peace." Vak’ha raised a hand. “I will note that you did not ask me to help there.”

“I didn’t.” Tahkagar’s voice was quiet. “I need your help. Or rather…a very good friend of mine does.”

Vak’ha buried the urge to laugh. Tahkagar was an orc through and through, and proud though he was, he had issues with just asking his father for things. He kept his tone serious. “And during the middle of a war with the Burning Legion, what sort of help might your friend need?”

Tahkagar explained the matter quickly, and Vak’ha’s eyes widened. Then he nodded. “I will do it.”

His son blinked. “Really?”

“Yes.” Vak’ha nodded once again. “And I will make certain not to fail your friend where others have.”

[actualpanda]

Tahkagar Marshblade (character meta)

Tahkagar of the Warsong - a frost mage who views his ancestry as history playing a joke on a Frostwolf. An orc mage who possesses the physique and appreciation of food of a Pandaren, Tahkagar is the eldest child of Inari and Vak’ha Marshblade. Born in the Nagrand of Draenor (before it became Outland), Tahkagar’s parents received a portent of coming disaster - the arrival of the Legion and the rise of the Burning Horde. Before it could sweep over them, Inari and Vak’ha took their infant children and fled into the wilds of Nagrand.

The Marshblades returned to their old clan only after the Burning Horde’s collapse. As a result of leaving the clan and being accused of cowardice, Inari faced a warrior of the Warsong in a mak’gora. She not only triumphed, she destroyed the warrior’s fighting spirit to the point where no one ever issued such a challenge against Inari, her husband, or her children ever again.

More after the cut! This turned out to be a LOT longer than I thought...

His early childhood spent in the wilderness of Nagrand and the newly formed Zangarmarsh (after the destruction of Draenor and the forming of Nagrand), Tahkagar’s talent for wielding frost magic brought him attention from other mages once contact with Azeroth was re-established. While his parents told him of the legacy of the Burning Horde, seeing the Path of Glory and the ruins of their Draenai neighbors brought Tahkagar to a new awareness of his people’s wrongdoings. Determined to forge his own legacy, Tahkagar left the Warsong once again for the ranks of the Horde proper, hoping to forge a new path.

Fiercely critical of Garrosh Hellscream’s time as Warchief (and having seen the horrors of the sha firsthand), Tahkagar gladly signed on with the Darkspear rebellion and used his magical gifts to aid in the battles outside the Dranosh’ar Blockade. He has settled in Halfhill in recent days, though his magical gifts enable him to travel quickly wherever he needs or desires to go.

Physical Attributes:

Height: 6′6″

Weight: 345 lbs.

Eyes: dark blue, almost purple.

Hair: rich, dark black with curls that foil his efforts at control.

Distinctive markings: a faint scar over his right cheek, and another below his chin.

Build: While he possesses a thick chest, Tahkagar is quite round about the middle and is an appreciator of fine foods and drink. He possesses a physique the rival of a Pandaren man’s. His strengths are more mental than physical, enabling him to have a softer physique - magic solves many of the problems that he can’t physically handle!

He possesses an icy aura due to his magic being passively channeled, lessening significantly if not entirely in the presence of people he likes.

Mental Attributes:

Stubborn in his mindset. While he does respect the viewpoints of others, he is frequently at odds with his own kind, particularly those who feel that Garrosh was fully justified or that Grom was a complete hero who doesn't deserve criticism.

Tahkagar: “HE WILLINGLY DRANK DEMON’S BLOOD AND LED A GENOCIDE AGAINST OUR NEIGHBORS WTF”

Tahkagar’s mind is made up in a lot of regards. He doesn’t usually get along with other orcs - that said, he does feel a strange sort of kinship with the Frostwolves. At times, his own clan referred to him as the Ice Wolf of Nagrand. He dislikes confrontation, as well as the hearty backslaps of Warsong elders. AS a result, his frost magic combines with his dislike of these things to provide him with an icy aura. If contact is made against his will and he dislikes the person, they can expect their fingers to be coated by frost. Or broken.

However, he does find himself very open to other magic users - though not all. He doesn’t form attachments easily, but those who find Tahkagar as their friend will be hard-pressed to find a more loyal ally.

Ancestry: Warsong Orc.

Mother: Inari Marshblade - a ferocious warrior renowned for her skill with wielding a spear (or a javelin), Inari carried the family name of Marshblade from her mother. Upon hearing Gul’dan’s offer to the Warsong, Inari realized what sort of fate was meant for her children. Inari and Vak’ha took their infant sons and left the clan altogether rather than risk that sort of end. While there were efforts made to kill them by loyalists to the Burning Horde, Inari ensured her family’s survival by vanquishing any who dared to face her.

Inari Marshblade is a protector at heart, and has always carried a fierce sense of self and responsibility - values she instilled into both her children and carries to this day. A protector of the Mag’har after her return to the Warsong, Inari despises the Burning Legion for the things they inspired her people and clan to do, and is a fierce advocate for the orcs finding a new path - one that isn’t hell-bent on conquest.

When news of her sons being involved in the Darkspear rebellion and the fight against the True Horde reached her, Inari at once left the Mag’har to assist - making sure her sons made it safely through the fighting. Once things settled, Inari decided to remain in Orgrimmar and take up the path of the Pandaren monks, inspired by the way they fought.

Father: Vak’ha Marshblade - a lesser shaman of the Warsong clan, Vak’ha witnessed a portent of disaster as a young man. When Gul’dan brought his offers of power to the Warsong clan and to Grom Hellscream, Vak’ha saw his worst nightmare made reality. Rather than be made a conscript of the Legion, Vak’ha and Inari fled into the wilderness of Nagrand, simply disappearing the night after the offer was made.

A gentle soul, Vak’ha’s skill at herbalism and divining portents kept his family alive, while his stories of his youth ensured his children knew of their clan - but also that there had once been a time of relative peace. Vak’ha has returned to the Warsong and the Mag’har, working as a scribe and a teacher of inscription skills.

Siblings: One - a brother, Jangvir Marshblade.

Jangvir is much like his brother in many regards - a heavyset orc with lovely curly black hair. Unlike Tahkagar, Jangvir is skilled with the shamanic skills that their father wields. When the Cenarion Expedition came to Outland, Jangvir’s memories of a youth spent on the run in the Zangarmarsh proved very handy as a guide for the Expedition. He chose to leave for Azeroth in later years, finding a place among the shamans of Mulgore. He did not see his brother for many years, until they both became involved in the war against the ‘True Horde’ of Garrosh Hellscream.

Jangvir lived through the conflict, and is still developing his shamanic skills. In time, he hopes to make his own life and path, but he is proud of his parents’ decisions and is quite glad he wasn’t made into a shock trooper of the Legion.