Finding the Path to Peace

[Yemana]

It had passed.

A sudden, sickening drop and the wyvern swooped down towards the landing platform. Yemana clenched her fists tighter in the mane of the great beast, shutting her eyes against the sight of the tower rushing towards her at an alarming speed. She felt the wyvern slow, felt a hitch in its wingbeats as it hovered for a brief moment before alighting on the wooden planks. The druid's sigh of relief rushed out between clenched teeth and she opened her eyes, reveling in the weight of her own body and the feel of something other than air under her hooves. She could not get to the bottom of the tower fast enough.

The tiny pink-skins have destroyed me with fire and ice, wielding the power of the Earth's spirits against Her own daughter. I can still smell my own fur burning.

Yemana moved through the crowded main streets with a grace that belied her heavy bulk. She did not come often to Orgrimmar - it was a city of too many, too much. Too many in one place, stacking buildings on top of one another to keep growing beyond the space they had walled off for themselves. The smells of too many fires, too many animals, too much refuse and too much food, all crowded together - it was enough to make the fur on Yemana's neck bristle. Today, though, the Shu'halo wrinkled her soft nose only slightly, ignoring the assault on her senses and focusing instead on the path beneath her hooves.

I have heard of a city hollowed out of a mountain, in a land where the snows never melt. Creatures with a lust for all that shines have chipped away Her bones, too focused on their delving to hear Her cries of agony...or perhaps, they did hear, but were too consumed by their greed to care about what they were destroying in order to create.

The druid withdrew a soft bundle from her pack as she approached the hall. Passing beneath the proud banner of purple and gold, she ducked through the doorway and scanned the room for Vilmah.

They have come against Orgrimmar, and they have come against the dead city. They have come against the home of the long-ears with pink skin - I will not wait until they are swarming over Shu'halo lands. I will not wait until they spill forth from the lifts onto Thunder Bluff. I will not wait until Stonebull Lake runs red with the blood of my people.

There was no softness about Yemana as she stood in the hall. All warmth seemed to have drained from her - the druid's eyes were chips of black stone, and her mouth was drawn in a thin line.

In her hand, she held her tabard.

[Laron]

((Watches story))

[Vilmah]

She hadn't wasted any time.

Vilmah was writing. She wrote to friends, to allies, and surprisingly, she wrote to Thrall and those who worked beneath him. Her words were encouraging, and she supplied information and tactics. There was far too much at stake now, and although she spent her nights writing, her days were spent fighting. Even now, she wore her armor, still damaged from the attack on Orgrimmar. Her green cloak was stained with blood, torn in several places, and burnt. There were circles under her eyes.

"First Itakae.. now you," she said quietly, not lifting her head from her desk.

Vilmah heard Yemana step inside. From the corner of her eye, she could see the purple and gold in her hands. With a deep breath, she calmed her trembling. Blood surged, and her orcish ancestry was fighting it's way through her veins. She was furious with everyone right now, but most of all, herself for not having the strength to protect them.

"Don't make their mistake, Yemana.." she said, finally, rising from her seat. Diminuitive and young, there were several gray hairs in her ponytail. "Don't give in. That's just what they want."

[Yemana]

The druid felt her heart crack as Vilmah looked up into her face. This child would carry the weight of the world on her back, she thought. How long before she is crushed into the ground?

Yemana stepped forward to the table where Vilmah had been sitting, easing herself down into a nearby chair so that she was at eye level with the tiny orc. Her black manetails hung down on either side of her face as she leaned forward and rested her elbows on her knees. With a heavy sigh, the Shu'halo began to speak.

"My mistake is that I have been something that I am not for too long." Yemana turned the folded tabard over in her large hands and continued. "This piece of cloth has been heavier on my shoulders than any armor could be. It has been a grip around my wrist when I would have raised my hand against those who do not revere the Earthmother as they should. Her bounty feeds their greedy mouths, Her bones are hewn to make their homes." The druid raised her head and looked into Vilmah's weary eyes. "It does not matter if I spare their lives because they would be at peace with the Horde - if they are not at peace with Her, they are my enemies. One day, they will seek Her gifts on Shu'halo lands because theirs -" Yemana paused, remembering Yichimet's words. "The lands that used to be ours..."

The druid's rich voice hardened. "I cannot allow it to happen. I will die before one pink-skin, before even one of them sets foot on the land we have spent generations of blood to call our own. Whether it is because they wish to take what we have or whether it is because they wish to destroy what we are - they see us as Horde, but they forget we are Shu'halo. I forgot." Yemana dropped her eyes to the tabard in her hands. "I cannot be Shu'halo and wear this."

[Vilmah]

She took a deep breath.

"You know.. it's hard to talk to someone who's older and more experienced, and try to convince you that there's something you're missing.." she began, leaning against her desk. Vilmah bit the inside of her cheek, steadying emotions that were begging to be released. "..but I think there's more to this than you realize, Yemana."

"I'm not too good with history, sometimes, but I do know about the history of the tauren. You guys go way back, and as I've come to understand, you've been unfairly pushed aside by centaurs, humans, elves, and just about everyone else. You've fought valiantly to keep your traditions, to live peacefully. You helped us, the orcs of Draenor, when there were plenty who would have rather seen us dead. We owe you and the trolls our rebirth into the shamanistic arts. You taught us a lot, but.. most of all.."

Vilmah bit her lip.

"..you taught us that the earth doesn't bellong to anyone. We can share it, we can help it, and in turn, it helps us.. but Yemana, what's the point of fighting if all we're losing is ourselves? I can't see you going out and fighting a war that we're all destined to lose. We can't.. we can't annihilate races, we can't kill people because their skin is pink, because if we do, what are we? We are not savages!"

She said that last part a little louder than she'd expected to, but it unblocked a river of anger that was hard to keep held at bay. Vilmah's hands shook.

"We are not the savage Horde that they say we are! They look at us with contempt, with hatred, and it's because they fear us. They fear us, because we have horns and tusks, and they want us dead for the same reason that you say you can't wear that tabard! There are murderers out there, Yemana! They're killing innocent people, and they wear the mask of honor, of glory, of strength. Some of them are pink, yes, but some of them are blue, and green, and some of them have fur and look just like you.

"And at the end of the day, when you're finished killing countless people.. when your axe is covered in blood and you've sent another child home without it's mother or father, what are you going to be proud of? What is the world going to say about the tauren, the Shu'halo, who despite everything they did.. at least kept their honor? Their strength and their culture? That they threw it away for vengance?"

Vilmah rubbed her forehead.

"They attacked me in our city, Yemana.. the city we built after years of injustice. Injustice, not just at the hands of humans, but injustice from our own people. We've been rebuilding, we've only been trying to live, and they came to attack us. They laughed at me, because I defended their kind. And.. it was hard to stand tall against that, you know? Do you understand? A dozen or more, putting every once of strength into killing me. All because I believed in them."

Vilmah rubbed her eyes, now, the corners of her mouth twitching.

"If you need to go, I won't stop you.. but don't fool yourself into thinking that it will make you what you strive to be. The tauren who helped us weren't murderers. You're not a murderer. Don't.. don't be like them. Don't become what you hate so much."

[Yemana]

Yemana listened to the little warrior rage. Her hands were trembling like leaves, and the druid longed to take them in her own and sit her down - it was not her place to calm her, though. Finally, exhausted, Vilmah rubbed her hand over her eyes.

"Don't become what you hate so much."

The druid smiled sadly. "You do not see what I see, child." Yemana's voice was very soft. "I do not see that their skin is pink, I see only that they would bring war to my homeland. I do not see that they are the small and sturdy ones, but only that they have destroyed mountains in their lust for wealth. And I do not see that their skin is green," Yemana continued, meeting Vilmah's eyes once again, "but only that they are destroying the forests to the north and giving nothing back to the Mother except the blood of those who would stop them."

The Shu'halo stood, setting the tabard on the table and laying her hand against Vilmah's cheek. Her thick fingers curved around the back of the orc's head, and Yemana stroked her face gently. "You know if our people laid down our weapons tomorrow, we would be destroyed. Every orc, every troll - all who are allied under the red banner would be slain. You know this. Their fear will not be soothed at the sight of an orc wearing her symbol of peace. It will not be soothed at the sight of me with my weapons sheathed. They will kill you regardless, and then they will kill your husband, and they will kill my mother and all that you or I have ever loved."

[Vilmah]

Yamana was so calm. It was so hard to be angry when she was calm, so instead she felt her chest heave a little in want of tears.

"Then tell me why.. why did Laron send me letters speaking of his loyalty? Why is Haven our ally? Why do we have friends on the other side, friends who have given up everything we have to be allied with us?

"I'm not asking you or anyone else to put down your sword! I'm asking you to use your judgement and to see that not everyone out there is going to come and kill us! And maybe if they see that we're not savage, maybe if we stop proving them right, they'll uderstand.. Yemana, they want what we want. And as far as I know, all we want is to be able to live."

Vilmah squeezed her eyes for a moment. They felt dry and itchy.

"We kill who we have to. We kill those who would kill us. We fight for justice, but we do not fight for vengance. My husband is out there right now, risking his life to put an end to those who would murder innocent people. Don't let him do that in vain.. don't you murder innocent people, too."

[Lovely]

Lovely stepped out from the shadows of the room. How she had remained unnoticed for so long was a large question, but she too looked battle weary. She smiled and nodded as she spoke.

"If I may say something...

I too have felt the way Yemana feels. I even quit Sanctuary last week for a couple of days after I was angered by the actions of the Alliance. But thats because I'm a very emotional person and often act before I think."

She paused, watching the two before continuing. "Being a member of Sanctuary means that the Alliance will always think of us as weak...And so will the Horde. But they don't know what true strength is. True strength is a sixteen year old girl walking into a room full of killers and daring them to be civil. True strength is taking the risk to protect your enemy as well as your friend. True strength is being downtrodden by those who hate you, and still standing under insurmountable odds."

Lovely pointed at Vilmah. "Vilmah is my Warboss, my friend, and I consider her my family. I do not always agree with the policies of Sanctuary...But I do believe in Vilmah. I believe in her dream, as foolish as it may seem sometimes. I would follow this girl to the gates of hell, and dare anyone to touch her. I would die gladly for Vilmah, not because she wishes peace, but because of what Sanctuary truly stands for....Helping those who need to be helped the most. This small orc right here is the embodiment of honor."

Lovely then turned to Yemana and smiled. "If you still choose to leave, just remember that. And remember that we will protect you regardless of where you go....As long as you stay true to yourself and serve the earthmother the way she would want."

Lovely turned and walked from the room, casting a spell of great healing on Vilmah as she exited. "Forgive the interruption."

[Laron]

Sitting outside the door, Andellyn patiently waits her turn for to speak with the Warboss. The yelling had caught her off guard, but she knew the shorter Orc was not in danger, not here... She had done her best to not ease drop until she heard her fathers name loud and clear. At that point, her curiously got the best of her and rested one of her long ears to the stone, and listened to the argument. She was surprised to hear the voice of the woman she had looked up to and considered her Mentor.

"Lovley?"

[Lovely]

Lovely smiled at Andellyn and nodded. "Good to see you again. I have to hurry, but I would like to speak with you soon....And also maybe to your father."

With that, Lovely gave a salute, and waited for a response before activating her shield out of habit and hearthing.

((Sorry, wanted a way to let you get out of the RP with me since I may not be on the rest of the night. hehe.))

[Yemana]

Yemana nodded gravely as Lovely exited the hall. "That is where I am forced to choose, Vilmah. The golden hammer claims that I stand for peace with the pink-skins and their allies, but there is no peace between a Shu'halo and one who defiles the Earthmother. She is our life, our nourishment, the very Spirit of all Shu'halo - when she is not cared for, a part of us dies." The look on Vilmah's face struck deep within her, and Yemana felt herself grow stony inside in spite of herself.

Little Wind, you keep your heart wrapped in the thickest of hides. Will no one touch it?

No, Mother.

Lifting her arms, the druid blessed Vilmah with the strength of the Wild. She slipped her hand into her pouch and withdrew her hearthstone, running her fingers over the carved rune. The green light began to emanate from it as the spell took hold, and Yemana looked at the warrior one last time.

"You are right, Vilmah - all we want is to be able to live. I go to ensure that we will."

A sudden flash of light, a rushing of air to fill the space where the druid once stood, and Yemana was gone.

[Vilmah]

Vilmah felt her stomach churn. It was an all too familliar feeling. Her heart breaking from Yemana's departure caused the orc to stumble away, feeling sicker than she had in months.