Kettara Bloodthirst (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
oldtonew) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
hadriel_logs2019-02-22 11:08 am
oldtonew) wrote in hadriel_logs2019-02-22 11:08 am
Entry tags:
is this the place where monsters hide?
Who: Pratt and Kettara
What: Shaman lessons
Where: Outside the city
When: February 22nd
Warnings: Discussions of cults, murder, possible genocide.
It's time. Kettara has spent days worrying over her own choices, wondering whether she has disgraced her ancestors and her master by even considering the action she means to take. She has remembered the lessons Master Muln meant her to learn and the ones she actually took, by blade or her own, uneasy wisdom. She thinks about the story of her own people, and how the Warchief stood as the instrument of their redemption. A slave turned warrior, turned again to become a shaman.
And she remembers what it was like as a child to know she was small and the world wanted nothing more than to crush her underfoot.
Preparations were made. And when the time comes, she shows up at Pratt's house dressed in armor and a new fur cloak. It's a crude thing, badly tanned, but even Kettara feels the cold.
She knocks on the door, then makes herself stand as tall as she can.
This must be done. And therefor, she will do it with all the honor she can muster.
What: Shaman lessons
Where: Outside the city
When: February 22nd
Warnings: Discussions of cults, murder, possible genocide.
It's time. Kettara has spent days worrying over her own choices, wondering whether she has disgraced her ancestors and her master by even considering the action she means to take. She has remembered the lessons Master Muln meant her to learn and the ones she actually took, by blade or her own, uneasy wisdom. She thinks about the story of her own people, and how the Warchief stood as the instrument of their redemption. A slave turned warrior, turned again to become a shaman.
And she remembers what it was like as a child to know she was small and the world wanted nothing more than to crush her underfoot.
Preparations were made. And when the time comes, she shows up at Pratt's house dressed in armor and a new fur cloak. It's a crude thing, badly tanned, but even Kettara feels the cold.
She knocks on the door, then makes herself stand as tall as she can.
This must be done. And therefor, she will do it with all the honor she can muster.
no subject
"So the orcs were cruel, the humans were cruel, and then someone stole a baby to raise as their own?"
He frowns, he thinks he sees where this is going, but there's still an innate confusion in who exactly he's supposed to be rooting for here. The orcs who invaded and merged with a demon? The humans who defended their land but then stole a child? Everyone seems to be in the wrong.
no subject
It's better to die in battle, or surrounded by family in one's old age. Not locked away as a prisoner. That is not life.
She exhales slowly. "Yes. It was - not a good time. Time passed. The human raised Thrall, trained him to be a gladiator. Even then he was a great warrior. The human kept him in chains when he was not fighting. But he had some freedom. He was taught things. How to read, how to command troops. The history of Azeroth. Things like that."
Not the traditions of his people, or even their language. But it was something.
"I was born after," she adds. "In one of the camps. I don't remember it well."
This is a lie. She remembers it with terrible clarity.
"Thrall was wise, even as a young man. He questioned why he was named, why he had to fight. And in time, he decided to escape. This was not an easy thing. Certainly he was a great warrior, but the other orcs, the ones who had survived, lived far away in the wild. Thrall did not know how to survive alone. He did not know the woods or the traditions of his people. Not even their language. Why would they take him in?"
Kettara's voice is soft and proud. She loves Thrall, or at least the idea of him. What he represents.
"There was a human who helped him get away. A woman. I don't know her name. I don't know why she did that. I think she died because of it. But this human, she helped Thrall get away. And so he went out into the wild. It nearly killed him. But he found what was left of the clans."
no subject
Some people meaning him. There are absolutely fates worse than death, but simply being imprisoned isn't one of them. At least not to someone who was tortured on a daily basis.
"Camps?" It's drifting away from his understanding again, wondering if maybe she doesn't mean prisoners and cages the way he's thinking of. "Like a labor camp? I thought they were prisoners not slaves?"
Perhaps in her world they're the same thing. There's so much he doesn't know and is struggling to understand.
"She died helping him escape but he didn't tell people her name?" He snorts. Of course not. No one cares about people who help others when it doesn't directly effect them.