Friday Five Hundred: The Warchief

February 6th, 2009

Anna from Too Many Annas has prompted for a short “ficlet” about a character.  The limit is 500 words, although mine is nearing 700.  Just couldn’t cut it down anymore!  The prompt was:

Write an event, a situation, or a scene that involves your character as a child/teenager and has some impact on your character later in life.

I chose to write about Brajana.  If I have my timelines correct, this story takes place just after the establishment of Orgrimmar, about 8 years ago.  Brajana was about 11 years old.

The Warchief

“Why can’t I bring Zither?” Brajana asked her father, as she trudged along the road to Orgrimmar.

“You just can’t bring a snake to a festival.  There are going to be people everywhere.  What if you lost him?” he replied half-heartedly.  As much as she loved the snake she’d been nursing, he knew she’d forget all about the Village once she saw the Great City.

“Do you know why we are going to Orgrimmar?” Brajana’s father was a very proud warrior of the New Horde, and it was very important to him that his daughter understand their history.

“To visit Thrall!”

“You must call him ‘Warchief’, Braj. He deserves all of your respect.”

But there was no response from the young Troll.

They’d come within eyesight of the magnificent city, and she’d stopped in her tracks.  She’d never seen such great walls. She’d seen the Orcish design of Razor Hill Outpost, but this was like a dream to her.

“Come along Brajana, and stay close. I have enough trouble keeping track of you in Sen’jin!”

Brajana walked the rest of the way in silence, wide-eyed and open-mouthed.

Orgrimmar was bustling with Orcs, Tauren and even Forsaken, blood red flags were flying from every building, and war drums could be heard over the roaring of the crowd.

“Your Uncle should be here, we should find him before the feast begins.”  Her father said as he dragged his awe-struck daughter toward the Valley of Honor.

Of course her uncle was near the stables.  He was a Beastmaster, and Brajana seemed to be following closely in his footsteps.

“Look at the animals while your uncle and I talk, Braj.  But don’t leave the Valley!”  He’d barely finished when Brajana bolted off to see the Wolves and Raptors.

After a few minutes discussing her favourite pets with the Stable Master, something caught Brajana’s eye over by the pool of water.


She’d spotted a small snake slithering around the edge of the Valley entrance.  Brajana was learning to Track Beasts from her uncle, and she took any chance she had to put it into practice.

She followed it around a few corners, but with all the Orcs and Taurens blocking her view, she eventually lost her prey and gave up.  It was only then that she realized how dark it had gotten.  She was in some sort of cave, a dim purple glow coming from the nearby tents.  And then she saw – warlock summon circles.  She’d heard of the dark witch doctor Zalazane from the stories they told naughty children… she needed to hide!

She saw light coming from a tunnel ahead of her, and she darted towards it.  She ran to the closest building with closed doors and sneaked inside to catch her breath.  When she had, she turned around to find herself in large, extravagant chamber.  With a throne.

She tiptoed over to the Throne, and when she’d decided the coast was clear, climbed up and sat down.

From the seat, she could see banners hanging on the walls representing all the races of the Horde.  There were murals depicting battles and historic events lining the walls.

“Um, excuse me, I think that’s my seat your in there, young Troll.”

Brajana froze.  She knew who this throne belonged too.  She panicked, and said the only thing she thought of.

“Brajana.  My name is Brajana.”

“Nice to meet you, Brajana.  My name is Thrall.”  He offered her his massive hand, and she took it.

“My father says I have to call you ‘Warchief’.” She told him and she climbed down from the seat of power.

“Well, Brajana, we are friends now.  You may call me Thrall.  Now, tell me, what brings you to my city?”

Nearly an hour later, when the feast was about to begin, Thrall brought Brajana to her father and uncle.

Looking at her uncle, Thrall simply said, “Teach her well. She will be a great huntress someday.”

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5 comments to “Friday Five Hundred: The Warchief”

  1. Aaaaaaaaaaaaaauuuuuuwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww.

    That is all.

    Rainbeaux’s last blog post..On Staying My Blue Arse Put

  2. Nice story, I really enjoyed it!

  3. Ahhh! “Thrall touched her AMG,” is what went through my head. What a great start to her huntressing!

    Anea’s last blog post..Recruit-a-friend – wise?

  4. After re-reading it, I was hoping no one would come up with that… Thrall and an underaged Troll in a room together for nearly an hour… lol. I swear it’s not like that! :)

  5. [...] previously wrote a story for Brajana.  This story is about Ferguson and Anabelle, my undead priest and [...]