<62 - Post-Feralas>
“Ugh… I’m really tired of this rain, dad.  How much longer?”
“Not much,” Drenan assured her as he reached back to give his daughter’s hand a firm squeeze.  “Thousand Needles is much drier, last I remember.  It has been years since I have been there.”
“I never went that far South,” Lyrah added as she attempted to shake the rain from her mane for the umpteenth time.  “I’m really glad we gave Feralas a shot, but living there….”
Drenan cocked an amused eyebrow as the pair trekked through the forest.  “Not even for your Darnassian friend?”
Lyrah’s cheeks grew hot.  “M-maybe, I guess.  Too many ogres though.  Way too many,” she added with a sharp nod.
“Right,” Drenan rumbled with a chuckle.  “I agree though.  It is difficult to look at a place fondly when one has traversed most of it injured.  If we can find some assurance that Keldah has no presence in Thousand Needles, I would like to fly once more.”
“No kidding.  My hooves are killing me,” the shaman lamented and drew one leg up behind her to hop and inspect her hoof.  “Maybe we can get you a better weapon again, too.”
Drenan glanced over his shoulder at the hilt of a crude, one-handed axe he’d acquired from the local blacksmith at Camp Mojache.  It was not an unusable weapon, but it didn’t have near the balance, nor the power, his warhammer had.  “It would make me feel better,” he admitted as he turned a bit more to regard Lyrah, halting their pace.  “Perhaps you should consider the same, hmm?  I have not seen you use even a shield before, come to think of it.”
Lyrah gave a half-hearted shrug as she slowed to a stop, stomping her sore hoof carefully. “The elements protect me, so I haven’t really needed anything.”
“Well, it is something to consider,” he offered before respectfully dropping the subject.  “Proper armor would be nice to have again as well.”
Lyrah looked down at the slate gray kilt of chain links she’d purchased, coupled with a matching, clunky chain mail shirt.  “Ugh, don’t remind me.  These links keep catching in my fur, and I look awful.”  The shaman’s ears drooped as she looked to her father.  His previous plate mail had been replaced by a a set of heavily-scuffed leggings and a matching chest plate.  While they served their purpose, the leather straps had been replaced with thick ropes to keep it in place, as the original armor was a few sizes too small for the bulky paladin.  “And that rope won’t last long.”
“I do not doubt that,” he agreed and dropped to one knee to stretch himself out in kind.  The pair hadn’t taken a rest for a while, so while the opportunity presented itself, Drenan pulled out their remaining belongings to take inventory.  “So, as it stands right now, we spent our last few gold yesterday morning, correct?”
“Right,” she agreed and looked down at herself again, murmuring under her breath, “Not worth it.”
“So we can worry about finding work in Thousand Needles.  However…”  The elder tauren pulled a small, now-empty vial he’d been fortunate enough to stash in their gold pouch.  “We will have to be very careful for the time being.”
Lyrah caught sight of the vial.  “Oh… have you-“
“I took the last dose yesterday,” he lamented.  “There wasn’t much left to begin with.”
“That’s okay.  I can make more,” Lyrah perked up with a smile.  One of her hands disappeared beneath the chain waist of her kilt and returned with the parchment Shele had given her before they’d left home.  In their haste to move, the shaman hadn’t gotten much chance to look it over, though the steady descent of her ears said much as she absorbed its contents.  “I see why this potion isn’t used by tons of people now.  Most of the ingredients are easy -Liferoot, Icecap, Fadeleaf- and really, we could make it with just those….”
“But…?” Drenan prodded gently.
“But the effects only last for about an hour that way.  If we want it to last longer, we need Starlight Rose.”
Drenan gave Lyrah a blank look.  “I have not heard of such an herb.”
“I have.  They’re only found on the Broken Isles.”
The paladin seemed to remain unfazed as he reached out to place a strong hand on her shoulder.  “Beyond Thousand Needles is Gadgetzan, and while goblins are not my favorite to deal with, there are auctioneers there who serve both Horde and Alliance alike.  When we get there, we’ll just reach out to them and pick up everything we need.  No sweat.”
The spark seemed to return to Lyrah’s eyes at her father’s words, her ears perking up once more.  “Oh, well, as long as we have the gold, I think I can make some more.”
“I suppose you will have to.  Otherwise…”  Drenan let his words hang in the air as he gave Lyrah a firm embrace with one arm.  “I do not think we are ready for the alternative just yet.”
“Not until we find a new home,” she returned and leaned into her father warmly.
The paladin felt a strange twitch at his daughter’s words, and after a brief, “Let us keep moving,” he quietly sunk himself into his own thoughts.  Would finding a new home be the seal on the start of a new family?  Was he willing to go so far with his own daughter?  Sure, he wanted to live a peaceful life with her, and indeed he loved the idea of spending his remaining days with her, but… a sudden, intense flashback shot through his mind, memories of his late wife instantly beating away the thoughts of a new, lasting life.
Lyrah was no fool.  She could see the pain etched on her father’s face, though she dared not push him about it.  If he wanted to tell her, she knew he would in time.   “Right,” she affirmed and gave his hand an extra squeeze as they trekked onward.  Their winding route had led the pair to the northern edge of Feralas, and finally its border came into sight, defined by the sudden shift from dense forest to barren cliffs.  As the pair stepped out into the open, Drenan ground to a sharp halt, his eyes widening as he beheld the great gorge of Thousand Needles flooded by the sea.  Lyrah stepped past him with a raised, skeptical eyebrow.  “I thought you said this place was dry?”
	Drenan did not respond.  The paladin scanned the flooded gorge with the lingering feeling of horror creeping into his mind.  As his eyes turned upward, far beyond their location, a number of tauren could be seen high atop one of the great pillars that stretched up from the sea water, many of them swinging arms and flinging spells... at one another.
<63>
Lyrah slowly followed her father’s gaze, her eyebrows arching in surprise at the sight.  “Wait, why are they-”  She turned to look to her father, only to find him sprinting along the ledge of the chasm, making for the nearest pillar’s bridge.  “Hey, wait!  Dad!” she cried as she went sprinting right after him as fast as her endowments would allow.
Drenan did not slow.  His sole focus seemed on the bridge which connected the cliffside to the first pillar.  His axe practically leapt to his hand as he neared the first pair of fighting male tauren, and at the last second he flipped the axe around in his hand and smashed the pommel down hard on the dark-furred tauren’s head.  The male dropped harder than a rock, much to the lighter-furred male’s relief who had been fighting the attacker before.  “What’s going on here?!” Drenan rasped as Lyrah came trotting up behind him, breathing heavily.
“The Grimtotem,” the male returned as he struggled to catch his own breath.  “They hadn’t bothered us for ages until just a few days ago.  Freewind Post has been overrun, and we’re struggling not to be pushed back.”
Drenan furrowed his brow angrily.  “Where’s Magatha?”
The male’s eyes widened in shock.  “Magatha?  There have been no signs of her as of yet, but-” he sputtered, but cut himself off as Drenan sprinted past him and across the rope bridge for the next clashing pair of tauren.
Lyrah huffed as she watched her father sprint away, confusion in her eyes.  She looked to the male next to her as she attempted to catch her breath.  “Wha… Magatha… who are the Grimtotem?”
The male looked as if she’d just asked him what water is.  “We do not have the time to mince words, young one!  If we are not careful, the Grimtotem-”  His words were cut off by a thundering war cry.  His head whirled around to watch as Drenan came crashing down on a trio of Grimtotem warriors, and in one fluid motion he cracked all three of them at various points on their skulls with his axe pommel, dropping them all before they could strike at him.  His roar had drawn another group of them in his direction, though the distraction allowed the Tauren braves to retaliate against them, dropping most of them to their deaths before they’d realized their error.
The shaman gave the male a light shove as she stepped past him.  “Whatever.  I’ll find someone else to clue me in.  Go find somewhere safe or go after some more of these… Grimtotem guys,” she called behind her as she made after her father once more.
The paladin was a relentless force of power as he plowed through the Grimtotem like they were butter.  Tauren after tauren fell at his feet, though not once did the blade of his axe see blood.  Several of the fighting braves took note of his actions, and even a few of them began to show the Grimtotem a semblance of mercy.  Drenan’s path took him to the pillar’s center where he stopped short, a Grimtotem in front of him falling with an arrow in his back.  “Duck!”  A feminine voice commanded, and no sooner had Drenan dropped to one knee, three arrows soared over his head to plunk into another Grimtotem brave.  The brave had been charging at the paladin, and as the arrows sank into his chest, he immediately dropped to the ground and grew still.
The circle of fighting tauren offered the paladin a brief reprieve as he regarded his savior.  “You have my thanks, Talla.”
Talla Whitefeather fought to catch her breath as she lowered her feather-covered bow.  The hunter sported a matching set of green-and-orange, two-piece chainmail armor, though a few links here and there had been either bent out of shape or had broken away completely.  “N-no sweat Mr. Lighthand…” she panted and offered him a nervous smile.  “W-we could use your help… the Grimtotem… they’ve been attacking for days… the braves… they’re almost outta steam.”
Finally, Lyrah was able to adequately catch up to her father, her eyes suddenly flashing happily as she caught sight of her friend.  “Talla!” she cried and walked up to throw her arms around the white-furred tauren.  Talla returned Lyrah’s embrace, a brief wisp of color flashing over her snow white cheeks before Lyrah drew back with a stern expression.  “What on Azeroth is going on here!?”
Talla offered her friend an exhausted smile.  “We think Magatha’s nephew brought on the attack, but we haven’t been able to find him.  The Grimtotem have had us pushed back until we were able to plant our hooves in here.”
Drenan grimaced angrily and let out a guttural snarl.  With a sharp turn he strode toward the eastern edge of the pillar and bellowed into the flooded gorge, “Magatha!  You know who I am!  Recall this attack now, and spare the tauren further bloodshed!  We will speak on the morrow, unless you’d rather lose even more of your kin to the Freewind braves and the Light!”
The paladin’s powerful bellow echoed all throughout Thousand Needles for what seemed like an eternity, and after a mere minute Grimtotem scouts came running to relay orders to the fighting Grimtotem.  After a three day siege, in the span of a few minutes, the Grimtotem forces retreated out of sight.  A deathly calm swept over the pillar, though the cheers of the exhausted braves were cut short by the appearance of a massive wind serpent from out of seemingly nowhere.  The crimson-colored, snake-like creature with feathery wings whirled around the pillar to hover directly in front of the paladin.  Drenan did not back away as an aged, female voice echoed from the beast, “Forty-eight hours.  Come find me at the Twilight Bulwark.  It has been too long, Drenan.”  As quickly as the beast had come, the wind serpent swept off across the gorge and out of sight, leaving a large group of confused and unnerved braves unharmed.
Drenan whirled back around to address Talla.  “We have no desire to impose upon the tents of your wounded braves, but if you could spare us one for a few hours, I can explain.”
<64>
Father and daughter kept silent as Talla led the pair across several rope bridges until the trio found themselves in a secluded, empty medical tent.  Lyrah wore a look of pain and betrayal, while Drenan remained stern.  Talla glanced between the two of them nervously on occasion, until she said, “Ooookay, um… should I… leave you two alone for a bit?”
“No,” Drenan returned gently.  “You need to hear this too.  You will be a better candidate to explain it to the others.”
Talla nodded slowly.  “Right….”
Lyrah was quick to turn to her friend, her expression softening.  “Not yet.  I’ve already asked twice, but I need to know who this Magatha is, and who the heck these Grimtotem are first.  I’m tired of feeling like I’m in the dark.”
Drenan had opened his mouth to answer, but Lyrah shot him a disgruntled look to silence him as Talla meekly piped up.  “Magatha Grimtotem is the leader of the Grimtotem tribe of tauren.  Many call her the Elder Crone as well.  The Grimtotem tribe has always kinda been the black sheep of our people… they’re bloodthirsty warriors, and they feel they should be leading our people.  Magatha is… kinda responsible for our last chieftain’s death, Cairne Bloodhoof, and since then the Grimtotems were exiled from Thunder Bluff.”  Talla paused to glance over at Drenan sympathetically.  “I would understand why Mr. Lighthand wouldn’t say much about them.  I kinda wish nobody knew anything about them.  It’d be more peaceful that way.”
“Thanks, Talla,” she returned before another silence followed.  Lyrah kept her eyes fixed on her father, while Drenan looked stoically to the tent floor.  The second Drenan looked up to meet Lyrah’s gaze, she quickly spoke up in a quivering tone.  “Dad.  I don’t know much about these guys, but are… are you a Grimtotem?”
A flicker of pain flashed across his eyes.  “No, Lyrah…” he spoke softly and calmly.  “... But you are.”
Neither of the female tauren had expected this. Deep shock and confusion flooded Lyrah, her only words being, “But… what…?” as she attempted to process his words.
Drenan took a deep breath before continuing.  “There are things I never told you about your mother, sweetheart, not because you weren’t mature enough to know, but because I felt these things would harm your image of your mother, and I did not want the stigma of the Grimtotem to follow you as you grew up.  Before she became my life-mate, your mother’s name was Kinah Grimtotem.  She was Magatha Grimtotem’s youngest daughter, and she was the kindest soul I had ever met, once upon a time.”
Lyrah slumped backwards a bit as her wide-eyed gaze turned to stare into nothingness.  “What… how…?”
“We met on the battlefield,” Drenan continued softly.  “The Grimtotem were not as horribly disliked at the time, but this was before the death of Chieftain Cairne.  The Grimtotem sent a battalion of their braves to work with the Sunwalkers in an effort to push the Alliance out of the Barrens.  Kinah had been sent to lead the Grimtotems as a trial by fire.”  Drenan paused and let out a quiet chuckle.  “ Five minutes in, she nearly lost her head.  Twice.  She was too gentle for the warring Grimtotem.”
Lyrah listened to every word intently, but she could hardly muster words as she absorbed her mother’s story.  Still, Talla was quite curious herself, and she suddenly chimed in, “How did the battle end?”
“We could not reach the Alliance.  They had dug themselves in too firmly.  The Sunwalkers understood -we would have needed three times the fighters to get through- but Kinah was mortified.”  Another pause as Drenan took a few breaths to collect himself.  “The Grimtotem tend to kill their own kind who do not share their bloodlust.  This test for Kinah had been set up to defeat her from the beginning.  During our retreat, Kinah pulled me aside and asked if the Sunwalkers took refugees.”
“Do they?” Talla asked.
“Not of the Grimtotem,” the paladin admitted somberly.  “But I could not bring myself to tell her that.  Instead, I simply told her to run, and when she did, I told the others I would pursue her.  We rode all the way through the Barrens, through Alliance-occupied Ashenvale, and did not stop until we reached Azshara.”
Talla felt a bit of color wisp over her cheeks.  “How did the Grimtotem react?”
Drenan bit his lip.  “To my knowledge, the rest of the battalion presumed I’d killed Kinah, and they were at peace with that thought.  Magatha, however… she knew better.  While she found her daughter disappointing, Kinah was still her blood… and a loose end out of her control.  The Elder Crone showed up in Azshara two weeks later on our land.  I stood between her and Kinah while they spoke, and I could see the struggle in Magatha’s eyes.  She still loved Kinah, and ultimately that love turned her away.  She never returned.”
“What about the Sunwalkers?” Talla added, enraptured by his story.
“I never told the Sunwalkers either.  After her escape, I devoted most of my time and energy to building our house with her.  It was meant to simply hide her, but… well, we grew close.”  The paladin slowly reached out to place his weathered hand atop his daughter’s.  “Lyrah, I am so, so sorry I never told you.  You understand now how our people perceive the Grimtotem, but you and your mother are both proof that they are just tauren like us.  Their customs are far more gruesome, but they are not all evil, and your heritage does not change who you are, nor who your mother was.”
Silence settled back into the tent as the young shaman mulled over her father’s story.  Talla could only offer her friend a sympathetic look as she tentatively draped one arm around Lyrah’s shoulders to comfort her.  After what seemed like an eternity, Lyrah’s eyes flickered back to life, and her head rose to look her father in the eye with a sad gaze.  “I… I understand, dad.  I just… I need to think a little bit.  That’s just… just a lot… you know?”
“I know,” he returned calmly as Lyrah leaned forward to fall into her father’s embrace.  Drenan held tight to his daughter as she laid in his arms.  She was not cold to him, but she didn’t feel the energy to return the hug.  Drenan tentatively ran his thick fingers through his daughter’s hair as he turned his gaze to Talla.  “I believe Magatha listened because she believes Kinah is still alive.  I would like you to tell the others the bare minimum of what I told you, at least enough to assuage their fears.  Tomorrow I will go to her and convince her to call off the siege altogether.”
Talla quickly grew concerned.  “But, Kinah….”
“Kinah is gone, but Lyrah remains.”  Drenan looked down at his daughter in his arms.  “You are not a bargaining chip, sweetheart, but I remember the look in Magatha’s eyes when she looked at your mother.  She will listen to us.”
Talla swallowed hard and nodded before exiting, leaving the couple alone together.  Drenan’s hand never stopped moving as he held Lyrah, and in turn she slipped closer and tighter against his chest.
<65>
  A long hour of silence settled in for them, and between slow shifts, Drenan found himself on his back with Lyrah curled tight against his chest.  Among the peace, Lyrah shifted to look at her father with her chin atop his chest, her expression simply stoic.  “Am I really a Grimtotem?”
Drenan’s eyes had turned to the pointed peak of the tent, his hand still running rhythmically through her hair.  “Only by blood, and even then, only half of it.”
“Hmmh,” she sighed thoughtfully.  “Do you think they’d listen to me over Magatha?”
The paladin sighed heavily.  “I doubt it, sweetheart.  My blood runs through you as well, and without committing horrible acts, your Grimtotem side would not hold much weight.”
“Damn,” she swore, her body shifting closer to him.  “That would’ve made it too easy I guess.”
“Indeed,” he agreed with a soft chuckle.  “It will be a… tense meeting tomorrow.”
“Mmm,” Lyrah murmured and tightened herself against him even more.  Out of the blue, the shaman added, “You know I’m going with you tomorrow, right?”
Drenan lifted his head with a concerned look.  “I am not certain that would be wise.”
Lyrah let out a soft giggle as she arched her upper body into a seated position.  “Oh?  You think the evil Grimtotems might convert me, hmm?” she asked dryly.
“I never said that.”
“Mmmmmmbut you thought it,” she shot back teasingly and turned her back on him.
Drenan did not respond immediately, one hand drifting to Lyrah’s lower back to squeeze gently.  “I simply am not certain how… coherent Magatha still is compared to two decades ago.  As hostile as she is to our kin, I fear she may be steadily going off of the deep end with this skirmish.”
Lyrah turned her head to look back at him with a slight smile.  “I was joking, dad.  I know you better than that,” she assured him and exhaled happily at his touch.  “I’m… I’m sorry I was so… cold to you back there.  I assumed way too much, too quick, and…”
Drenan’s powerful hands came to rest gently on Lyrah’s shoulders, his squeeze gently muting her words.  “You have nothing to apologize for, sweetheart.  I do not blame you one bit for your anger.  By all rights… I should have told you ages ago.”
Lyrah’s hands reached up to press tenderly against his atop her shoulders, letting out a happy sigh.  “It’s okay, dad.  I see why you didn’t.  I mean… it is what it is, y’know?  It’s like… I’m a big gem, and that’s just one facet.”
A deep chuckle resonated from Drenan as he squeezed her shoulders softly, his thumbs pressing a bit more firmly against the chain shirt.  “That is one way to look at it, yes.  I admit, I am very thankful for your understanding.  I… I dread to think of losing you over your blood.”
“Mmmmmh,” Lyrah moaned gently and leaned into her father’s touch.  “Not gonna happen, dad.  I think blood keeps us together more than makes us different anyway.”
Drenan smiled wide as he shifted a bit closer behind her, his hands leaving her shoulders to drift down toward the fringe of her chain shirt.  “Arms up,” he requested softly.  “Such information can still be burdensome, and I can see as much in how you carry yourself.  You are stressed.”  Lyrah lifted her arms without a second thought, and with great care the paladin lifted the chain shirt up and clean off her body, leaving her naked from the waist up.
The shaman opened her mouth as if to protest, but just as her arms went up, a sharp twinge went off in her back, causing her to cry out and lurch forward in pain.  She bit her lip as she flopped heavily forward onto the furs along the floor of the tent, her words muffled as she retorted, “... maybe a little.”
“That is what I thought,” Drenan quipped as his hands moved back to her now-bare shoulders.  His thick thumbs pressed gently against her shoulder blades and began to swirl in slow circles over her chocolate brown fur.  His two open fingers applied gentle pressure as well, and steadily both thumbs began a slow descent down her naked back.
Silence ensued at first, though as his hands began to drift, Lyrah let out a long, drawn-out moan, her arms shifting to prop her head up off the furs and to one side to look back at her father.  “Since when did you learn how to do this?”
“I have always known,” he admitted, his hands drifting down just above the waist of her chain kilt before leaving her to begin back atop her shoulder blades.  “Paladins are not known for their dexterity or agility, but certain spells required a great deal of finger gestures to learn.”  A slight frown crossed his face.  “Perhaps I am not so dexterous as a five-fingered being, but I manage.”
Just as she was about to retort, Drenan’s fingers dug nice and firmly into her lower back, forcing her words to melt into a succulent moan of happiness.  “Mmmmmmmwhy do you sell yourself short, daddy?”
Drenan stared lovingly at his daughter’s bare back as he continued his intricate work.  “An old habit, perhaps.  Many consider a tauren such as myself to be a… brute, I suppose… a stupid, gawking, angry brute.  I think my way of handling it is to act as if I have no talent.  Then when do I show talent, it surprises people.”
At this, the cooing shaman pushed herself upright and turned to look at her father.  Lyrah smiled warmly as she draped her arms over his shoulders and pressed her muzzle to his in a tender kiss for several long moments.  When she drew back, she added, “You should be as proud of your abilities as I am to have you as my father and mate.  And, honestly, it’s… kinda nice to see this side of you.  I never would have guessed.”
“Give it time,” Drenan rumbled as he returned her embrace and smile alike.  “You will probably learn much more about me than you’d care to, you know.  I will always be your father, but being my mate opens up many doors which parents never let their children look into….  I simply hope you do not dislike what you see.”
Lyrah giggled and graced him with a second kiss before slowly slipping back onto her belly.  Her plump bottom arched into the air and wiggling seductively from side to side.  “I’m not worried.  You’re my father, and I’ll always love you… aaaaas long as you keep doing what you were doing.”
