Be Kind To Those Less Fortunate 3
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. Author note: Amazing! I wrote something! Sorry it took so long to write this, I've been playing WoW and it has taken my free time away, plus I've had a few things happening lately. This was supposed to be twice as long, and as it is this part is twice as long as what the previous parts were. I kind of finished this at a good spot so I hope this keeps you happy until I get the next part written. Don't worry, I promise I'll write it! UPDATE (30/06/09) -- Spelling, grammar, and a few other tweaks.
UPDATE (12/12/09) -- Spelling, grammar, and a few other tweaks. -- Be Kind To Those Less Fortunate 3 -- Calm. A feeling that should always accompany meditation, something that the draenei always struggled to attain. Yet, he persisted, knowing that if he didn't undertake this daily ritual he would lose himself. So many times in his younger years had he succumbed to the easier emotions: anger, fear, hatred, despair. Almost all of that was behind him now. Almost. In his time on Azeroth, Anarchei had learnt a few things. The first was that he didn't like most people. Not because of who or what they were, but how they were, how they lived. All around him he witnessed the expression of the same emotions he analysed within himself daily, to understand them, and know where they came from. In so doing he was able to observe the world around him with clarity, seeing most people for what they really were, and he didn't like it. These emotions often led to what must be a universal constant: violence, and of course, the accompanying pain and suffering. Not particularly keen on experiencing said pain and suffering himself, he had often wondered why others would wish to inflict it on their fellows. The answer was simple: power. And the more power you had, the less consequences you would face should any retaliate against your evil. At least, that was what usually occured. Having observed many different races, he had reached the same conclusion for all of them. Even his own kind, been so good-hearted and willing to help those in need, were not exempt. It began long ago with his adopted parents, witnessing first-hand just how cruel humans can be. A few months before he was to reach they age of majority, he had come to the realisation that there was something different about him, something that he did not see whilst living amongst humans. When he raised this issue with the only people he had loved in his life, he was met with fierce rejection, and for the first time he remembered, violence. It was his 'father' that dished out the physical abuse, his 'mother' served up a plate-full of the verbal kind. Of course, he was devastated, and naturally had little choice but to flee the only home he had ever known. How he managed to survive on his own after that was still a mystery. Now, years later, he sat in a rather uncomfortable chair obviously not designed for draenei comfort. Sitting, thinking, and above all: waiting. The door across the room was still closed, and Anarchei had not heard a sound since it had clicked shut several hours ago. Inside that room was a sho'halu, or tauren in the common tongue, lying unconscious and gravely wounded. With him were several of the best healers of Azeroth and possibly beyond. Dalaran had to have the best, being stationed above Northrend while armies fought below. With these thoughts, the paladin thought back to why he couldn't heal the tauren himself. With all the advances in
knowledge about the plague, many antidotes and methods of magic had been developed to combat the disease. He himself knew them all, and had used them all in trying to save the life of the sho'halu. Nonetheless, his efforts were in vain. This new strain from the Scourge must have been recently developed, perhaps by the hand of the Lich King himself. Just thinking about such evil incarnate made the sturdy draenei shudder. The last time he had encountered the Lich King had not been pleasant, to say the least. The chair he sat on creaked, and not for the first time Anarchei wondered if he should have removed his armour before sitting down. However, his train of thought was interrupted by the sound of a door opening. Standing up swiftly as he realised what was happening, he watched as a line of people from various races stepped into the waiting room, and then out into the corridor beyond. None of them made any gesture, nor did they glance at the paladin, they just silently marched out of sight. Feeling a sudden cold in the pit of his stomach, he jumped slightly when he turned and was faced with familiar tauren druid. "You need not worry, we removed the poison," said the bull, a metal jar in his hands. "We had to cut it out in the end. First time I've had to use stitches, the wound cannot be fully healed with magic." "I see," Anarchei replied, sighing in relief. For a moment he was not sure if he should say anything, but his curiosity got the better of him. "What's in the jar, if I may ask?" "You may indeed ask," said he druid, his voice deep. "Contained within this magical device is the evil we had to cut out of our friend in there. We will be keeping it safe and studying it extensively. This is indeed something new, and we need to find some way of quickly neutralising it. You were lucky getting him here when you did, most would have died and come back as an undead monstrosity." Relieved, and his curiosity satisfied, all the draenei could do in response was nod. "You can go see him now if you'd like, although he is still sleeping, and will not awake for several hours" offered the tauren, turning his head away for a moment as if considering something, then facing the draenei again. "It is late now, you will be hard-pressed to find a place to stay the night. There is a spare bed in the room, you are welcome to use it." "Oh, no, I don't wish to impose," Anarchei replied, raising his hand in polite refusal. "I will make do." "Nonsense!" bellowed the sho'halu, his voice almost making the paladin jump. "You have aided one of my brethren, and what is more, brought to our attention a new strain of plague. You are more than welcome, in fact you deserve it." "Well, if you say so." "I do say so," replied the druid, before lowering his voice. "Also, if you don't mind me saying so, you do need to bathe." Raising his arm and taking a sniff, the draenei almost blushed. He didn't smell all
that great, that battle earlier had only added to a few days worth of sweat and unwashed dirt. "Come, I'll show you where you can wash." With the tauren leading, Anarchei followed him out of the waiting room and down the corridor to a door with a water droplet painted on it. The druid opened it, revealing a room big enough for the largest sho'halu, a strange device attached to the ceiling, and a drain in the floor beneath it. On the wall near the door were racks with folded towels of various colours and sizes. The druid grabbed a purple one, which had the symbol of the Exodar embroidered upon it. "You will find no need for soap, the shower will do everything for you," explained the tauren as he handed the towel to the draenei, who was peering into the room with a sense of child-like wonder. "Never seen one like this before I take it?" Anarchei shook his head. "It's pretty simple. Just turn that handle on the wall over there in the direction you want the temperature of the water to be. Red for hot, blue for cold. We find that having something like this makes cleaning our patients a lot easier, and it also helps when they start recovery and can do it themselves." "I see," said the paladin. "Thank you." "No problem," replied the tauren, before glancing to his side, noticing the appearance of his kaldorei apprentice, then turning to face the draenei once more. "My friend, I'm afraid I have to leave you now, this analysis cannot wait any longer. I trust you can look after yourself?" Receiving a nod from Anarchei, the druid nodded as well and departed with this apprentice in tow, leaving the draenei alone in the hallway with a towel in his hand.