Be Kind To Those Less Fortunate 2
Disclaimer: The Warcraft universe is a creation of Blizzard Entertainment, not me. I intend not to, nor am I making, any money from this work
Some rights reserved. This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 3.0 License. Summary: A draenei paladin traveling through Northrend comes across a tauren shaman in trouble with the scourge. More story! I finally got around to writing a bit more. UPDATE (30/06/09) -- Spelling, grammar, and a few other tweaks.
UPDATE (12/12/09) -- Revised the story, adding in new content. Be Kind To Those Less Fortunate 2
Anger. An emotion generally associated with negative feelings, and one that was reflected in the eyes of the Alliance soldiers present on Krasus' Landing. The paladin was sure that they hated him for helping their enemy, however he wasn't a member of the Alliance, so it didn't bother him what they thought of him. And so the draenei ignored them, his attention focused at that moment on his netherdrake friend. "Thanks for you help Jorus," said the paladin, gently rubbing under the drakes snout, feeling more than hearing the rumbling deep in the creatures throat that could have been confused with a purr. "Have fun hunting." 'It's not as fun when I have to avoid these foul undead' Jorus replied, his thoughts communicated directly to his companions mind. 'You know I'll get sick if I eat one.' The draenei smiled and nodded. "I'll be finished in Northrend soon, so we can return to Draenor shortly." 'It will be good to see my family again,' replied the netherdrake, tilting its shark-like head to the side when he remembered his friend. 'You know they are your family too.' His smiled diminished, but still present, the draenei nodded again, patting his friend on his slender but muscular neck. "Off you go, I have things to attend to here." Noticing the sadness in his friends eyes, but knowing that nothing he said would make the pain go away, Jorus nodded his head and turned sharply. Extending his wings and pushing off the ground with his strong hind legs, the netherdrake took flight, quickly descending from view, heading to the forest below Dalaran. After a few seconds of trying not to think about his past, the paladin turned, again trying to ignore the stares and looks of contempt directed his way from the members of the Alliance. Shaking his head slightly, the draenei turned to the stairway that led to Dalaran proper and began walking. Almost immediately he was been followed by one of the soldiers, a fellow draenei. The paladin heard his name called, but chose to ignore it, not in the mood to listen to what he expected was a well rehearsed and propaganda-laden speech. Heading down the street toward what passed for a place to heal the sick, the draenei was grabbed by his right arm and jerked around so that he faced the other draenei. "I'm talking to you, Daniel," said the draenei warrior. "I know you aren't deaf." "And you know that my name isn't Daniel any more," the paladin replied, yanking his arm out of the warriors grip. "I changed it to Anarchei as soon as I reached the age of majority." "Oh, now I remember, Daniel was your adopted name, the one those humans gave you," his voice laced with spite. "Exactly. Now, what do you want?" Anarchei asked calmly, a slight frown marring his usually calm features. "You know what I want," replied the warrior, sneering. "I want to know why you are helping the enemy, or did you forget that the tauren are
Horde?" "And did you forget that I don't subscribe to petty Azeroth politics?" replied Anarchei, preparing to turn and walk away. "Petty? You think politics is petty?" "No, I think politics is a discussion on how best to use violence to solve problems, I believe that being involved in the discussion is petty. Now, if you'll excuse me, there's someone I need to see." Before Anarchei could get one step past the warrior, he found himself roughly shoved against the stone wall of a building. "I don't think you understand what you just said, Daniel," the draenei sneering as he used the human name to insult the other draenei, his two hands holding Anarchei in place as he spoke. "You just insulted Velen, our leader on this world!" Looking down on the slightly shorter draenei, Anarchei snarled. "What do I care?" he said, his sharp fangs flashing. "I'm not welcome on the Exodar, the supposed home of all draenei on this planet, so which is the bigger insult?" Shoving the warrior away, Anarchei stalked off, not looking back at the angry draenei. The paladins anger rapidly faded, to be replaced by thoughts of why he hated politics. The reason he discarded his human name was the same reason he wasn't welcome on the Exodar. By humans and draenei alike, he was considered a freak. It was nothing he said or did, but rather the way he was born. Not many are born that were like him, and those that were tried to hide it as best they could, for those that were revealed were scorned and exiled. It was because of this irrational hatred directed at him that he had come to the conclusion that politics was a waste of time. In the course of his life he had learned that working together and cooperation was more important than which side one was on, and that the only way to accomplish this goal was to be free from the oppressive whims of people who were willing to draw a sword first rather than settle things with words. Right now though, Anarchei had more important things to deal with than the past. The future of an injured tauren was now in the hands of complete strangers, and while the draenei and the tauren were both strangers to each other, Anarchei felt that a part of himself was invested in the outcome of what lay ahead. -- Clip-clop. On softer ground draenei and tauren are generally quieter than any of the other races on Azeroth, however when placed in a city where the ground is paved with stone, they are one of the noisiest. Surrounding a neutral building were several shu'halo pacing, their bull-like bodies enclosed in various armours ranging from leather to plate metal. Upon seeing the lone draenei approaching, they halted in their tracks, watching as the one who had helped one of their own passed them by and entered through the door. Anarchei stopped for a moment, seeing no one at first in what he assumed was the reception room. Looking around, he was quickly pulled from his
observations by the arrival of a male purple-skinned kaldorei, his glowing golden eyes almost level with the draenei's contrasting blue. "Are you the one that brought in the shaman?" the elf asked, his tone gentle yet firm. "I am," replied Anarchei. "How is he?" "I don't think I'm the right person to explain it to you," said the kaldorei. "I'm still in training to become a druid, so my knowledge of the art of healing is still lacking. If you'll follow me, I can show you to someone who knows of what he speaks." "Thank you." The two tall men made their way down a corridor off the reception, the night elf leading the draenei past several doors, all closed, the magical lighting more at home in the forests of Teldrassil glowing a pale blue. The young night elf halted at a closed door, turned to face the draenei, and gestured with his left hand. "In here." Anarchei stepped forward and turned the knob, opening the door. "I have errands to attend to," the kaldorei druid-in-training explained before turning and leaving. The draenei didn't have a chance to thank the elf, let along say farewell, before he was confronted with a familiar face. "Ah, my friend, you have come," welcomed the large creature, his three-fingered right hand reaching out to clasp the right hand of the draenei. "I hope my apprentice wasn't too rude to you?" "Your apprentice?" Anarchei enquired of the shu'halo, the tauren nodding in reply. "One would think it the other way round, yet it would seem even one such as myself has something to teach to the longer-lived." Anarchei nodded in understanding, having experienced a similar situation in the past. "But this is not what you have come to talk about," the druid continued. "The one you brought to us, our kin..." "Yes, how is he?" Anarchei asked. "It is difficult to say," replied the bull, shaking his head slightly. "The wound is different than that which we are accustomed to, and while it heals under our more difficult magic, it seems the infection grows stronger despite our progress in limiting its spread." "You mean its concentrating?" "Yes, that's it!" the shu'halo wagged a finger. "Why didn't I think of that?" "Perhaps the longer-lived have something to teach one such as yourself?" Anarchei smiled, which grew into a grin when the druid burst out laughing. "Thank you for that," said the tauren, chuckling. "Although I think I may have lived longer than you, young one." "Details," Anarchei replied, soliciting another laugh from the bulky creature. "Well, now that I understand what is occuring with the infection, we should be able to treat it now," explained the druid. "You can wait here if you'd like." The tauren gestured to a row of chairs before turning to a wide door that the draenei paladin hadn't noticed before. "How long do you think it'll be before he is back to
good health?" Anarchei enquired. The tauren stopped and turned his head. "A few days at least," he replied. "However when the infection is removed he should be awake in a few hours. Maybe you'd like to see him then?" "I would appreciate it, thank you." The shu'halo nodded before walking through the door and shutting it behind him, leaving the draenei alone in the small waiting room, alone with his thoughts.