64. Into the Shimmering Deep

Now that Ziggly has been found, Cris moves on to the next thing on his list: a ship.
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63. Reunion

After several weeks of being distracted and traveling, Cris finally gets back on track and does what he was supposed to do: find his friends.
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62. The Heart's Nightmare and Redemption

Cris' life has been more than tumultuous since his return to civilization. The loss of Rain and the emergence of a new lover has not only confused him, but slowed his search for his friends. However, Cris is getting some well deserved peace in his life, even if it's just for a little while. Author's note: I return to you with a dream sequence! 
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61. Sacrifice

Inspired by "Gorecki" by Lamb. Grab the tissues...
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60. No Choice

The magical tome has infuriated Cris due to someone's writing and Tia has decided to handle the situation the only way she knows how...
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59. Interventions

Tomorrow.  The day after today. Today is tomorrow…and she’s still not dead.

                  The high sun didn’t stop them as they continued to talk and run along the red shore. Each day, Sarahai became less of a victim and more of a friend, something that was starting to eat at Cris’ conscience. He sat on the red sand, looking up at her as she twirled in circles. His toes dug into the sand and he simply took in the sun while keeping his eyes on her.
                  “I wish we had music,” Sarahai said as she stopped spinning, her brown hair covering her smiling face slightly.
                  “Why do you want music, Lamb?” He had started calling her Lamb since she told him the story about the wolf and the lamb.
                  “So that you can dance for me!” She jumped toward him and crouched at his feet, sweetly looking up at him. Cris smiled and reached up to caress her face, an action that she responded to by closing her eyes and sighing endlessly. He knew what she was doing. She was falling hopelessly in love with him and while that wasn’t his intention, he didn’t mind the attention she was giving him. It had been a while since a female had held him, kissed him, and simply longed for him. He missed it very much. However, in the back of his head, all he could think about was Tia’Zula growling at him, forcing him to end the girl’s life.
                  Cris laughed and threw his head back. “Lamb, what makes you think I can dance.”
                  She crawled up along his body. Cris gulped and shuffled his legs along the sand so that her legs crawled between his.  As young as she was, Sarahai was sexually curious and he recognized the signals she was giving him. As much as he wanted to take her, he knew that it would reduce the purity of her soul and that would really upset Tia, especially if they continued to be lost longer than a week. He knew that eventually, death would creep up onto the shore.
                  “Something about you tells me you can.” Her lips were close to his that her moist breath was felt against his lips. “I can sense some sort of…wild blood within you.” She kissed his lips and, pushing against him slightly.  “I’m usually never wrong.”
                  Cris laughed and gently bit her lips. “Perhaps you’re right, Lamb, but I ain’t gonna dance for you.”
                  Sarahai frowned and whimpered a little. “Why not?”  Her accent was growing on him and slowly he was starting to love it when she spoke to him, even when she whimpered, as a normal teenage human girl usually would. She thought that was the way she was going to have her way, but regardless, Cris loved hearing her speak.
                  “Why do you want me to dance?”
                  “Because I think you would be entrancing.” She sat up on his hips and danced on him, moving her chest and arms as she tilted her head to the side. Cris watched her, his heart racing and his hands inching up her legs, but he tried to think of other things.
                  “I’m sorry, Lamb, but I will not dance. You want dancing? You should see the women of the caravan. They really know how to move, like you.”
                  “I’m sure you can move in other ways, Wolf.” She pressed against him, kissing his lips once more. This time, he didn’t resist or turn away. He simply gave in, surrendering to her young lips and her soft touch. Cris didn’t want to think. He simply wanted to enjoy, and if it wasn’t for her fingertips slowly touching his scar along his neck, he would have waited to see how far they would have gone. However, that single touch sent a shiver throughout his body and he pulled away. No…she’s my prey…
                  “Is there something wrong, Wolf?” Sarahai asked in her soft, tender voice.
                  “N-no…no. I just think that – “
                  “Sarahai!” Both Cris and Sarahai turned and saw three men standing on a red sand hill.
                  “Father!” Sarahai leapt off Cris and moved away, leaving him on the sand, rolling his eyes and taking a deep breath.
                  “Great,” Cris muttered.
                  “Sarahai, what are you doing here…with that?”
                  “Father, don’t start with that!”
                  The large built man with a widened mustache walked down the dune, followed by two similar looking men. They all glared at Cris, who quickly jumped up and dusted himself. “Hello, I’m Captain Seawolf. And you are?”
                  “Her father,” said the main man. Sarahai ran to her father’s side and held his arm.
                  “Father, don’t do this! You’re embarrassing me!”
                  “If he touched you in anyway, Sarahai…”
                  “Sir,” Cris calmly started, “I have not touched your daughter in any inappropriate way.” He looked at Sarahai, smiling rather brightly before a fist came flying toward his cheek. Caught off guard, Cris fell back onto the sand. Usually, he would reach into his boot and pull out a gun, but without a gun, all he had was his dagger and that wasn’t going to work against this man.
                  “Sarahai, go home. It’s almost sunset.”
                  “But father!”
                  “Now!”
                  Sarahai took one more look at Cris before running away, sobbing loudly and dramatically. Cris looked up at her father and chuckled, rubbing the injured cheek. “Protective, eh?”
                  “She is my only daughter. I will not have some elf take her away from me!”
                  “Sir, she’s the one who’s coming on to me. Maybe if you didn’t have her on a tight leash, she wouldn’t be going with the first elf she saw.” He saw the man rush toward him and as if he has some sort of superhuman strength, he lifted Cris over his head with one arm.
                  “A leash? She’s not a dog, you dirty elf!” There was a slight growl in his voice, one that Cris had never heard before. He tried to pull the man’s fists away from his shirt. One of the fingers was dangerously close to his shark tooth, which made him panic slightly.
                  “I never said that. I just said you should let her go once in a while.” Cris was thrown a distance away from the man, landing hard against the sand.
                  “You stay away from her, elf, or you will be hunted after sunset.” The man glared at him angrily before walking away. The two other men chuckled and followed, with one of them staring at Cris. For a split second, Cris could see the last man smiling and showing a mouth full of razor-sharp teeth. His face appeared to be elongating into a snout, but after blinking, Cris noticed the man’s face was normal. He threw himself onto the sand and lay there for a while longer, until the sun set.
                  Rushing back to his camp, he noticed Tia lighting the second campfire. “Where joo be, Cristianno. I thought joo be eaten by sumting.”
                  “Her father beat me up.” Tia turned to look at him and rushed to his side, touching the bruises on his face. “Watch it, it stings.”
                  “Joo be alright, but dat mean da job still not be done, eh?”
                  “It will be done. I’ll do it tomo—“
                  “Tomorrow, ja. I be ‘earing dat all week.” Tia shook her head and walked toward the devilsaur, taking it some fish to eat.
                  Cris sighed and sat on the wooden plank near the fire. He noticed his magical tome and began to read the pages that had filled up since he was gone. He looked for the familiar moniker, the keeper of his heart and the one that not only worried him, but also had him curious about what she was doing and how she was doing. Her words seemed pained and irritated. He was unable to do anything for her, but she had her many friends and her new lover with her. With a deep breath, he scanned the rest of the messages.
                  He came across one from the one he knew was Niela. He asked what was wrong with her and she replied that her arm was broken. A sudden rage began to fill within him. Who would dare harm her? It wasn’t as if she couldn’t take care of herself. He was well aware that she could, but something about her getting hurt bothered him. He wasn’t sure what it was. As he wrote his final concern into the book, he sighed, “If I can help you with this one, assassin, I will.”
                  One more, he scanned the messages that kept appearing and he saw one final message from Rain. There is something I need to tell you, but I must be cryptic: Doubt thou the stars are fire. Do you understand?
                  After being hit and thrown, his head was still fuzzy. He responded as well as he could, followed by a whisper, “I know you love me.” He closed his eyes and closed the book, sighing deeply. “I know.” It was then that his heart ached once more, however, with the befuddled mind and everything mixing together, Niela, Rain, Sarahai, Cris simply lay on his side and took a deep breath, knowing well that his heartaches were far from over.
                  “Fuck.”

58. Lamb Hunts Wolf

Cris continues to speak with the human girl Sarahai. The tale is adapted from Aesop's fable "The Wolf and the Lamb."  Inspirational music: "Eyes On Fire" by Blue Foundation
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57. Beauty

Cris has been on stranded on a red beach for over a week, along with a group of odd humans. Amongst the humans is a teenage girl. She has been watched closely and now, it's time to make the move.
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56. To Survive

Cris, Tia, and two crew members survived the Cataclysm, unbeknownst to them, but with humans hiding when the sun sets and the sudden disappearance of one of the crew members, things are looking rather...odd.
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55. Red Sands

            Days had passed and it seemed as if he had been wiped off the face of the world. The elf sat along the red shore, staring at the still waters, and thinking silently while his finger dragged along the sandy beach. His auburn hair was a mess behind him and his clothes were in shambles, but all he could think about was finding those he had lost. The last thing he remembered was someone pulling him out of the water and before that, he saw pieces of wood and items from his ship.
            “Dammit, my bloody ship,” he mumbled. He picked up a nearby stone and threw it into the ocean. Taking a deep breath, he leaned back and looked at the red sand with the squiggly lines beside him. In one swipe, he erased the doodles and started to draw lines, connecting them with other lines and curves. He wasn’t paying attention to what he was writing until he finished, lifting his finger from the sand and sighing.
            “She still on joor mind,” Tia’Zula spoke from behind him. Cris looked down at the name on the sand. Rain. Tia shook her head, reaching for his hair and pulling it slightly.
            Cris winced. “Ow. Well it’s not like I’m dead or anything, Tia. I still remember and I still feel. And no, she’s not on my bloody mind.” He stood and looked at the troll. “She’s in my heart.”
            Tia rolled her eyes and with her large foot, she stomped on the name and wiped the sand. “Well joo keep ‘er der and not on da bloody beach.”
            “I don’t need this bullshit from you, alright?”
            “Joor friends be lost out der, Cristianno, and all joo can tink about is ‘er?”
            The elf shook his head. “No, because she’s surrounded by her…” he rolled his eyes, “…her bodyguards. She’s fine. I’ll look for her once we find the others.” He ran his fingers through his hair and looked out at the sea. “Ziggly is crucial. Laerchel is going to be extremely difficult. And Niela…”
            Tia tilted her head and stared at Cris. “Joo keep sayin’ dat name. ‘Hoo be dat?”
            “A friend. Nothing to worry about.” But he did worry for her and about her. Ever since Laerchel had warned him about working with Ravenholdt agents, he worried a little. However, after the last conversation he had with Niela, where she was kind enough to make him a meal allowing him to have his own personal picnic on the roof of the Ratchet bank, he was beginning to trust her and oddly enough, he was beginning to miss her. “I would show you a picture I drew of her, but my bloody journal is somewhere under water!” He threw his hands up in the air and screamed.
            “Calm jooself. Joo scare de oters.” Both Cris and Tia turned behind them. At the point of awakening, Cris found out that Tia had saved two crewmembers and the beach they had landed on had a few other sailors and humans who were shipwrecked. They only appeared during the day and were quick to disappear at night.
            “They scare me.”
            “But remembah, joo need ta feed.” Tia reached for his giant shark tooth at the base of his neck and cradled it in her hand. “Da stress be wearing joo out. Joo soon be needin’ souls.”
            “I don’t feel anything.” Cris looked away, his eyes back on the ocean.
            “Joo don’ wait ‘til joo be starving ta eat, do joo? Don’ wait ‘til joo about ta die to feed it.” Tia let go of the tooth and cupped his chin. “We will find dem, Cristianno, but joo need ta take care of jooself too.”
            “I should take Davy and find out what lies behind those cliffs.”
            “I don’ recommend it right now, Cris. Da sun be settin’ soon and dose people still be worryin’ me. Why do dey hide at night?”
            “I dunno. But make sure we keep two bonfires up tonight and Davy nearby. I don’t trust them.” Cris gazed at the serenity of the water and recalled how only a week ago it had devoured everything that he held dear to him. “Where am I going to get a bloody ship, Tia?”
            The troll shook her head and patted his back. “First find joor friends, den we worry ‘bout a ship. I be tinking dat we set out soon. Leave da ‘umans alone to deal wit der problems.”
            Cris looked back and noticed children running around and laughing. He smiled softly. “They’re the innocent ones in this chaos, Tia. Look at them. No idea what happened and they still run around, playing.” He sighed and waved at the children, who stopped and giggled, waving back before they ran around once more.
            “Cristianno, we don’ even know wat ‘appen!” She smacked his arm, breaking his reverie and making him turn toward her. “Stop dis foolishness and let’s figure out where we be.” She walked toward their little camp, took a few pieces of bones she had in her pouch around her waist, and rolled them onto the sandy ground. “Der be bad tings, Cris. The earth not be happy. The world be not right.”
            “But what happened? What was up with that giant wave? Did it have anything to do with the earthquakes?”
            “I donno, Cristianno!” Tia reached to grab her pieces of bones, along with a handful of red sand. “It not clear ta me!” She walked to the edge, her hands holding her own arms, as if comforting her self. The seas were indeed calm, but she knew they held more secrets from her than they were letting on. “I need ma ‘erbs.” Turning to see Cris, she said, “Only den can I see wat ‘appen.”
            “Sure, or we can just ask someone as soon as we get out of here.” Cris shrugged and turned away, walking toward a piece of wood they had found in the water. Tia glared at him and with the snap of her fingers, a tiny bolt of lighting zipped straight from her to his ass. He screamed out and jumped, grabbing the afflicted area. “What the fuck?”
            “Don’ doubt me, Cristianno.”
            “I wasn’t doing shit!” He touched his pants and growled, “And now there’s a hole there. Great. My ass cheek is gonna show.”
            “As if joo care.”
            Cris growled again and plopped onto the pierce of wood. “We need to get of here. Tell Penny and Larry. They’re going to help us escape this…red shore.”
            “Dey be joor sacrifice, Cristianno.” Tia walked closer to him, accompanying him on the wooden plant. Her hand gently fell upon his knee and she looked at him with determined eyes.
            “But we can’t leave them out of the loop. It’s too suspicious.”
            “Fine. But da way der souls look, joo lookin’ at six days at da most.”
            “Combined?” Tia nodded. “Damn, lousy immoral men.”
            “Joo soul don’ look too pure eeder.”
            Cris reached out and placed his hand over her eyes. “Will you stop looking at my soul? This isn’t about me.” Tia chuckled and removed his hand, holding it in hers, to which Cris didn’t argue against. Davy’s foot stomps were getting closer and he sat beside the wooden plank, beside Cris.
            “We’ll find a way back. We’ll rebuild. We’ll make a name for ourselves,” Cris said, looking out into the ocean. Tia nodded, but inside, all Cris could really think about were his friends…and the three women whom he loved, one of them being the one he was dying to be with at this very moment.

Thief's Bounty

Pilgrim's Bounty is celebrated on Azeroth, similar to Thanksgiving. In-game, it usually lasts a week, so I'm going to say that the festivities last a week, but there is a particular day that the it is really celebrated, such as Thanksgiving Thursday. n_n By the way, this is a backstory before the current timeline. Before Cris.  ... No pun intended!
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“I said I wanted fresh meat! What is this? Huh?”
“Ma’am, this is the freshest turkey we had. We cooked it to your specifications. I don’t understand what the problem is.”
“The problem is that it looks like someone ran over it! Look at this squished side! The turkey is supposed to be round! How am I going to present this to my guests? And today is the day we celebrate Pilgrim’s Bounty! Where am I going to get a turkey at this time?”
The man placed his hand on his face and sighed deeply. “Look, ma’am, this is a fine turkey. We saved the biggest one for you. You can either take it or we’ll sell it to someone else.”
The human female gasped. Her child was glancing over the counter at the man trying to sell his mother the turkey. It did look good and he simply wanted to go home. “Mommy, just take the turkey.
The female glared at the man and then lifted her nose. “No, son. We do not pay for such vulgar service or food. How dare this man say that this is the best he has? I am serving nobility! He would not serve the King such atrocities!”
“Ma’am, I’m sure the King would be more humble than this.”
“You’re accusing me now?”
“No ma’am.”
The woman grabbed the cooked turkey off the counter and threw it on the floor, pieces of meat flying all over the wooden floor. The little boy’s blue eyes widened as the bird was destroyed. “Try and sell your disgusting turkey now!” She turned around and grabbing her son’s hand, she marched out of the butcher’s shop and back out into the streets of Stormwind.
“Damn lady! Patrick! Come clean this up!”
A teenager walked out with a bucket and pail and sighed at the task ahead of him. He picked up the turkey and placed it in a bag before taking it out to the back, where the man was sitting, smoking a cigarette. “Can you believe this? That woman just threw it on the floor!”
“Sorry.”
A soft rustling came from behind the trashcans along the alley wall. “Who’s there?” the merchant asked, getting up and walking toward the cans. A brown cat jumped out and ran down the alley. “Stupid cat.” He turned back to the teenage boy. “Did you pick up the damn bird?”
“It’s right here.” He lifted the bag in his hand.
“Well, toss it in the can and just clean up the mess inside. We’ll finish the rest of the turkeys for later. I’m sure the rest of the orders will go better than this one.” The man finished his cigarette and went back inside. The teenager swung the bag into the can and followed shortly after.
The smell of slow-roasted turkey with seasoning and a tinge of sweetness began to attract all sorts of creatures, from the ants to the cats, but one particular one managed to outsmart and claim the food for himself. Out of the shadows, a pair of green hands reached for the bag, pulling it close to him and running to a small shelter made out of boxes and papers. The goblin looked around, making sure he wasn’t being watched. He quickly tore the bag open and saw the pieces of turkey. His eyes widened and he smiled.
“Finally! A real dinner!” Ziggly grabbed a handful of turkey, some of it with dirt from the butcher’s floor, but to the hungry goblin and the cats and rats he ended up sharing the meal with, it was truly a feast.

54. Cataclysm

Cris returned to Booty Bay to speak with his crew about his idea. He was ready to begin the plan, but sometimes life has ways of spoiling one's plans. (*cough*blizzard*cough*)
The second part of this story (you'll notice it when you get there) was inspired by "Gabriel" by Lamb.
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Her Name Is...

He met her when she was trying to steal his gold. She has become his best friend and confidant.

53. A Moment of Peace

After having spent a few days with Davina, Cris takes a journey to Northrend and finds his best friend Laerchel. They travel to Moonglade.
Inspired by "The Last High" by The Dandy Warhols
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52. It Doesn't Make Sense

Cristianno received a letter from Rain and he spends the entire day trying to figure out what she really means. Meanwhile, the rogue Davina sleeps in his room, on the floor, by choice.
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In his Journal

This is the drawing Cris was working on in the story "On His Mind." Drawing by me. In color!

"Davina," the rogue who follows Cris around ...

51. On His Mind

Having taken another job from Stormwind, Cris and the crew make a quick trip to Ratchet to pick up some cargo marked HKPB Enterprises and deliver them back to Stormwind.
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50. Cris Goes to Tia

Having encountered Rain once more, Cris is convinced by Davina and Rain that it's time to own up to his past. 
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49. Help From A Stranger

Over the trip, Cris meets a dark-haired woman who goes by the name Davina. Having saved his life, they make a blood pact and she tells him that she will go to him whenever he needs her. Feeling lonely in Mulgore, Cris summons Davina to chat.
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48. Birth of an Idea


            The brush made a few strokes in his journal, coloring the paper with a deep blue. A bit of water made the blue light and spread across the page. No one cared about the painter in the corner of the Orgrimmar tavern. The poor elf was simply a no-one.
            Soon that no one was joined by three orcs in heavy armor: guards. Their axes were placed on the ground and they were quickly served their alcohol. They laughed and drank without a care in the world.
            “We’re sending a heavy shipment to Warsong Hold this month,” grunted one orc. He appeared to be heavily decorated compared to the other two, as if he were the leader.
            “Why?”
            “Grom wanted to send supplies back to his old city I guess. We don’t question. We do.” They all grunted and clashed their mugs together, nodding in agreement.
            “Same old supplies?” asked the third guard.
            “Yes, but more of it. Bandages, cloths, armor and this time, we are sending weaponry. We’ll catch those Alliance scum before they plan anything against us.
            Once more, they grunted and agreed, taking a drink. The no one in the corner lifted his head and looked at the three orcs for a brief moment as he shifted his body at an angle so that he could hear them better. He continued to work on his painting.
            “Are we sending more guards this time around?” asked the youngest of the three. The commander shook his head.
            “No, we don’t need extra security. No one messes with us when we transport to other cities. Everyone knows better than that.”
            The no one stopped his art, lifting his brush from the paper and turning slightly to glance at the orcs. The candlelight cast shadows on his face, allowing the orcs to see only part of the no one’s face, and a long slender ear. He chuckled, which caused them to turn and look at this odd stranger.
            “Does something amuse you…” The commander glared closely, noticing the ear. “…elf?”
            “I just think you’re being a little too over-confident there, sir.”
            The orcs laughed, except the commander, who simply smirked. “We haven’t lost a ship yet.”
            “I would think that the Horde would send their ships with many guards. Pirates and Alliance love to roam the sea.”
            A cacophony of laughter rang throughout the tavern, the echoes sending the noise out to the Drag, making the no one’s ear twitch. “By sea? Elf, you must be preoccupied with your little magic tricks to even know that the Horde does not travel by sea. We’re not the filthy Alliance.”
            “Oh, how do you travel?”
            “Our transportation of choice is an airship.”
            The no one smiled, the candlelight only showing half of it. “Goblin technology. Interesting.”
            The orcs turned back to their drinks, mumbling about ignorant elves and how they weren’t truly Horde. Their conversation continued and all the while, the no one in the corner finished his painting, small as it was, in his journal. He wiped his brushes and dumped the water he was using beside the table. He turned to the orcs one more time. “Excuse me.”
            The commander turned around, obviously irritated. “What!”
            “How would someone like, oh I don’t know, myself, join your operation? I’ve been wanting to give my services to the Horde for a while now.”
            The orcs laughed once again. “We don’t like scrawny elves, but I suppose any help is good. Report to the Valley of Honor. They’ll let you know what to do.” The no one nodded and grabbed his bags.
            “I thank you, kind sirs.” The orcs scoffed the comment and turned back to their conversations.
            As he walked past their table, the commander stopped him, grabbing his hand. “Who are you anyway?”
            Lifting his auburn head, sea-green eyes stared firmly into the commander’s eyes as he smiled and simply shrugged, “Me? I’m a no one.”
            Taking his hand back, Cristianno bowed politely and whistled as he exited the tavern, followed by a wide, sly grin.

Watercolor done by me.

47. In Memory of Marcus D'Avros

Part two of the Day of the Dead stories.
Inspired by "Papa Can You Hear Me" by Barbara Streisand, sung by Lea Michele.
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46. In Loving Memory of Maerin Suncloud D'Avros

This is a side story for the Day of the Dead, which is celebrated in World of Warcraft™.
Inspired by "River Flows In You" by Yiruma.
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45. But It Felt So Real...


            Darkness enveloped him, embracing him as if he were a lost child seeking much needed comfort. It seemed eternal, an everlasting veil of shadows and serenity. In the distance, he saw two beings approach him. Their ethereal figures were consoling. He smiled and reached out for the man in the dark hair and the woman in with the slender ears and long auburn hair.
            “Mother…father…I’m home,” he whispered, but his brief reunion was interrupted when his hand was held back. He looked behind him and saw her. Her. The sunlight of his life, the rain in his ocean. She simply shook her strawberry blond head and smiled at him. He turned back to see his mother and father, who were now reaching out. Tugging his arm, he longed to go to them, but once more, he was stopped, this time by her soft, delicate voice in his ear.
            Cristianno, wake up.
            He slowly turned, her lips brushing against his ear. “What?”  She simply smiled at him. It was the same smile that warmed his heart every single time.  His parents were starting to be distant.
            Cristianno, wake up.
            He looked at her one more time and she was now walking away, waving at him. “Wait…”
            Wake up…
            “Hey, wake up!”
            His eyes opened widely and his head shot up, eagerly searching the area he was in. The goblin next to him shook his head and hit him faintly with a dishrag. Cris recognized the tavern. He was in Ratchet. The mug of bourbon was sitting beside him.  Cautiously, he shifted his eyes toward the corner opposite his. There was no one there except him and the bartender.
            “Where’s…where’s the dark iron dwarf?” he asked faintly. His hand reached for his head, touching his skin and hair.
            “A dark iron dwarf? Where!” The goblin ran toward the dark corners of the tavern, drawing his gun and searching desperately. “I’ll kill the fucker!” Cris stared at the goblin and looked down at his hands. There was no dwarf. There was no gun. There was no blast. The goblin returned and placed his gun away. “You can’t hold your alcohol eh?” He laughed as he leaned against Cris’ table.
            “What…happened?”
            “You walked in, got yourself a drink, sat down and in a matter of seconds, you passed out on the table. “
            “Seconds? How long was I passed out?”
            “About ten minutes.”
            Ten minutes? His heart raced. It was so real. The night terror only lasted ten minutes. The dwarf, the feel of the cold metal against his head, the sound. Her. Everything felt alive, even the pain in his head when he… Her.
            He reached for his bag quickly, ripped a piece of parchment from his journal and grabbed a writing tool. Hastily, he wrote a several lines and folded it carefully so that no one could open it except for her. He took the candle’s wax and poured it to seal the note. His mind was starting to cloud as he addressed the note:
Mordrain
Silvermoon City

            “Hey, barkeep! Please… please mail this.”
            The goblin shuffled toward him and sighed. “Lazy ass.” He took the note and walked to the mailbox outside the tavern. “There. Maybe you should go get some sleep.”
            Cris smirked at the word. “I can’t sleep.”
            “You sure did for ten minutes. Although, I can’t imagine how comfortable it would be sleeping on a table while you’re trembling and your legs and arms jerking about. I thought you were having some sort of attack. Hell, you even spoke. Something about luck and whatnot.”
            The goblin’s words surprised him. Luck. He didn’t feel as lucky as he once did anymore. He looked out the entrance. “It’s still three in the morning?”
            “Yup. Well, three something, but yup, still dark out there.” The goblin returned to his work and Cris simply sat, slouched against his chair.
            He couldn’t understand why he was having the terrors. They were haunting and terrifying. They were real and impossible to escape. His journey had to continue as he decided to go north, into Alliance territory. Cris looked at his mug of bourbon and pushed it away, bringing his journal up onto the table and turning to a page past the one he tore. He had forgotten already why he cut out the page, but he just shrugged. On a clean section, he began to write.
            Captain’s My Guidelines:
                        Never play a game of chance.


The letter he sent.

44. Take A Chance


    Inspired by "Russian Roulette" by Rihanna
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43. Dozens of Roses

Finding his way back to Booty Bay, Cris receives a rather angry letter from the mousey human in Stormwind.
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42. Captain's Log

41. Blur

Cris heads back to Silvermoon to start his land journey when he runs into her. He is able to recall her when he sees her, but as soon as she leaves his sight, so do the memories.
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40. Becoming a Pirate

Cris decides that it's time to leave his past behind and start looking toward his new future. This is when he decides it's time to talk with The Captain once more.
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            The pirate walked into the tavern, his leather sole shoes stepping lightly and quietly. It was a typical evening in Booty Bay: drunken sailors, whores leaning against buildings, bruisers attacking enemies of the city. He stopped by the bar, asking the bartending goblin for his usual, a large tankard of cherry grog. With drink in hand, he walked up the stairs and looked for the darkest corner of the tavern. That’s where he would find him.
            He slammed his tankard onto the table and glared at the shadow. A dark figure chuckled and a gruffy old voice spoke out in common, “Imagine seeing you here, Seapup.”
            “Wolf, jackass.”
            “I call you whatever the fuck I want to call you. I should call you dead. You never came to tell me you were alive.”
            Cris smiled and shook his head. “I figured someone would have told you.”
            “Oh, they did. Two whores called Rumor and Hearsay.”
            “Well, there you go. What more do you need?”
            “I need you, fucker, to tell me that you’re alive. Now sit your ass down before I decide to make the rumors true and kill you off once and for all.” Cris chuckled and sat across from the figure, who now leaned over and showed his face in the candlelight. His peppered beard was unruly, with bits of food hiding beneath his chin. His bushy eyebrows cast a shadow over his green eyes. The long hair of his head reached his shoulders but it matched the beard and eyebrows. He grinned, as if his smile contained the many years of adventures and piracy. His golden teeth in his mouth were his pride, showing them proudly as he smiled, followed by the reeking scent of alcohol and years of not washing his mouth. His heavy golden embroidered overcoat was in shambles, patched here and there with pieces of leather and scrap cloth. “Who helped you?”
            “Tia’Zula.”
            “A good woman. Has she tried to get into your paints yet?”
            “All the time.”
            The Captain chuckled, “I wonder if she’s still good fuck.”
            “Lovely. You look like shit, Captain.”
            “So do you, asshole. Let me guess, another heartbreak?” Cris blinked at him several times and the Captain shook his head. “If it wasn’t for my sources, I wouldn’t know shit about you. Tia told me you were being pathetic. And I knew she had helped you with your little death incident.”
            “She did?”
            “Of course. She talks to me all the time.”
            “So why the fuck did you ask?”
            “Because I want to hear it from you! She also told me that some little wench ‘broke’ your fucking heart.” He mocked the word broke and laughed, “Didn’t I tell you that was your problem? Falling in love with the first wench that shows you her smile and before you know it, you’re a blubbering fool.”
            The memories were blurry for Cris but if Tia had said that, then he knew it was true. “I’ll move on, Captain”
            “Damn right you will. You’re pathetic, pup. Letting a wench control your heart.”
            “Not anymore.”
            The Captain looked at Cris and grinned. “Good. Maybe you will begin to act more like a man. How’s the business going?”
            “Good, but I need you to teach me once again.”
            “How to be a merchant? I never was a bloody merchant.”
            “No, Captain. I want to be a real pirate.”
            The Captain laughed, droplets of spit falling onto Cris’ face, followed by an invisible cloud of foul breath. “A real pirate? What, you were pretending all this time?” He continued to laugh again.
            “I’m serious, fucker.  I want to change.”
            “And what led to this? Couldn’t handle your wenches? They’re a waste of time. That’s all they’re good for; to distract a man from what their true goals in life are.”
            The conversation was enough to trigger the memories back. Cris sighed and leaned back against the chair, his ears wilted slightly. The Captain rolled his eyes and threw a sharp kick at Cris’ legs. The elf perked up and growled at the Captain. “What the fuck was that for?”
            “You’re a fucking pussy! If I ever fell in love with my wenches, I wouldn’t be here.”
            “Drunk, dirty, and in rags?”
            “Rich and satisfied. I love me life, boy. That’s the point to life. Live for yourself. Enjoy your life. I wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.”
            “Live without love? You told me yourself I was the marrying kind.”
            “I ain’t perfect, am I? So I was wrong. “
            Cris sighed and leaned against the table. “Teach me.”
            “You must be willing to listen, ass. All those years I had you on board and all you wanted to do was play your sissy flute and stare at the sea.”
            “I’m going to travel. By land.”
            The Captain stared at him silently. He gestured for Cris to get closer, which Cris obeyed, only to feel the Captain’s hand strike his face. The elf’s eyes widened and glared at the Captain. “No, seriously, what the fuck!”
            “You come to me for advice and you say you’re going to travel by land? Get your fucking insulting self away from my presence.”
            Leaning back, Cris rubbed his face. “I need to find myself.”
            “You’re right there.”
            “I need to really see the world. Meet other people, find other ports.” The Captain didn’t say a word after the last thing he said and Cris noticed. “I want to be more familiar with what’s around us.” This time he leaned forward voluntarily. “I want to see what the world has to offer me.”
            “Ay, smart boy.” The Captain smiled widely, his gold, brown, and holed smile not phasing Cris. “And then when you see all you want?”
            “I take it.”
            “You take it.” The Captain nodded and lifted his calloused hand, moving toward the elf’s face. Cris winced slightly, but he felt the hand gently tap his cheek. “Smart boy.”
            “Will you guide me?”
            They stared at each other and the Captain grinned. “Very well, Captain Seapup. Here are a few rules I follow. Share them, and I’ll kill you. Break them, and you’re bound to get yourself killed. Choose not to follow them, and you can go back to a life of pussy love and self-defamation. But hey, you’re already used to that, right?”
            Cris rolled his eyes and paid close attention. “I’m ready.”
            “Remember, boy, these are my guidelines. Other seascum will differ and I hope you aim for your own guidelines one day.” He leaned back and grinned, chuckling softly as his body lifted and dropped with each laugh. “We’ll make you a pirate yet.”
            Cris nodded, ready to hear his words. His mind was clouding slowly and now filling with excitement at the thought of going through the world and planning his attacks. The Captain was right. There was no time for love. Romantic love was simply a waste for him now. He knew he could be charming and get what he wanted, but otherwise, he swore to keep his emotions away from women. 

Washing Away the Pain

After the tumultuous turn of events, he is placed in a bath by Tia'Zula, as described in "Cleansing the Mind, Body, and Soul." Drawing by me.

Cris just letting the pain wash away. I really love the way this turned out.

39. Cleansing the Mind, Body, and Soul

As promised, Cris visits Tia.
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            The rowboat had the word “whore” carved along the side in scratchy spelling. Each time he rowed, he pushed against the water toward the island. Jaguero Island. The hut was starting to appear at the distance. Tia’Zula emerged from her hut and welcomed him with open arms. Cris pulled the rowboat toward the shore and walked into her arms, his legs making an extra effort to push him along.
            She glanced behind him and noticed the empty boat. “Joo say joo ‘ad someone to introduce ta me.”
            “There’s no one, Tia.”
            The troll looked at him and still holding him, she led him into her hut. As soon as the door opened, the large white wolf Misae jumped up on him and began to lick his face. For a moment, Cris smiled, a genuine smile and he hugged the wolf tightly. “Hey there, girl. I missed you too.” He sat in a chair by a table and the wolf sat beside him, her head on his lap and her eyes looking up at him, longingly, as if she really wanted him to pet her for eternity.
“She senses sumthin’ be wrong.”
            “She’s a faithful girl. She loves me unconditionally.” Cris sighed softly and petted the wolf’s head.
            “Ah, girl problems. Is dat not why joo died?”
            “Different girl.”
            “In two months? Joo work fast. Cheat on dis one too?”
            “No, Tia, I did not. I was more than faithful to her.”
            “Ah. Payback ‘urts, don’ it?”
            Cris rolled his eyes and looked down at the wolf. “She’s the only girl for me. Yes you are, Misae.” The wolf panted and rubbed her head against his leg.
            “So, what joo want to talk about?”
            “I was told by some trolls that I was condemned to death either way. That the spirits would never release me from this…” He placed his hand on the shark tooth and sighed, “…thing.”
            Tia chuckled. “Sum trolls, eh? Sum trolls don’ know what dey say.”
            “It was a witchdoctor.”
            “Witchdoctahs are all differen’. We all ‘ave different contracts on our lives. And joo be on mine.”
            “Me?”
            “Ay. If joo fail, I will no save you again. So joo die. End of story.”
            “Will they stop, Tia?”
            The troll leaned back and pushed her pink braids back. She reached behind her and grabbed a box. Before responding, she pulled out a cigar and lit it up with her fingers. The flame seemed to not burn her as she puffed on the cigar to light it up. “Ay, dey be stoppin’”
            “When?”
She exhaled in front of her and seemed to examine the puff of smoke before it dissipated. “When dey decide.”
            “Tia, I’m getting the urge to kill.”
            “So kill den. Joo a pirate. Dat wat joo do.”
            Her words seemed so casual and nonchalant. The signs were growing more and more each day, showing him his new direction in life. “Fine.”
            “Gud. Now, I be bathin’ you.”
            “You’re what?”
            “Joo reek of bad juju. I ‘ave sum ‘erbs dat will be ‘elping joo wit whatevah is wrong wit joo.”
            Cris slumped against the chair and nodded. “Couldn’t hurt, I guess.” He touched the shark tooth with his fingers, but his palm rested above his heart, as if he were guarding it, or soothing it.
            Tia took another puff of her cigar before putting it out and placing it back in the box. She stood and walked toward a counter covered with jars and plants. She took a mortar and began cutting leaves off the plants. “Dis one meant a lot to ya, no?”
            “Is it that obvious?”
            “Joo are a good man, Cristianno. Emotional tings like dis are obvious.”
            “I don’t want to be obvious anymore.” Not after a third time of disappointment.
            “Joo should talk to Da Captain. ‘e will show joo ‘ow to live. Look at ‘im. No wench and plenty of life.”
            “Well he does have that one wench. The human that comes and goes.”
            “Ya, but she no ‘is. She is married, ja know dat?”
            “Yeah to some human in Stormwind.”
            “Ya, mon. Joo should get joo sumone like dat.”
            Cris sighed, leaning forward and running his hands along his hair. “I don’t date whores.”
            “ ‘ho said anyting about dating?” She turned to look at him and grinned, her tusks pulling back her lips. She turned back and carried with her the mortar and a bucket of herbs, as well as a few jars of powdered substances. After they were placed on the table, she walked to the door and shouted, “Tik! Boil da watah, den cool it down a little. We need a bath.” She walked back in saw Cris with his head hanging low. “Joo look broken.”
            “Do you blame me?” His hand petted his wolf’s head, which she never removed from his thigh.
            “Yes.” He looked up at her and lifted an eyebrow. “Joo ‘ave survived death, Cristianno. Joo ‘ave fought against ships and won. And joo die ober a girl?”
            “She was more than just a girl. She was my life.”
            The troll walked quickly toward him, snapped her fingers at the wolf, moving her away, and straddled Cris’ legs. “Dis be joor life.” She held on to his shark tooth. “Dis be why joo are alive. Not some girl. Love be a gud ting if joo ‘ave it, but it can also be a curse. Joo are not alive because of some girl. Joo are alive because you want to be alive. Joo are joor life.”
            Cris looked up at her and sighed heavily. “I don’t want to love anymore, Tia.”
            She grinned wickedly and played with his hair. “Dat can be arranged.” She let out a cackle and pressed her body against him, but he simply sighed again. “Joo don wanna love? We make joo stronger den.” She snapped her teeth at him and cackled again before getting off his lap. “Joo need to revitalize joor mojo, without the need for love.” Tia walked back to the shelf and reached for a few more items. “Joo sure about not wantin’ ta love?”
            Cris stared at Misae, who was lying on the ground, her eyes gazing at him, as if awaiting his response as well. “I don’t want to fall for another woman.” Tia nodded and chuckled. “Or man, Tia.” He narrowed his eyes as he heard her chuckle again, her hand putting back a jar she had reached for. “I want to love my friends and those I call family, but I don’t want another woman to hurt whatever is left of my heart.”
            Tia turned and glared at him with a cruel smile. “Joo jus wanna lust.”
            Cristianno lifted his eyes and stared at her. “Whatever.” She nodded and placed a pink powder on the table. “What’s all that for?”
            “For strength, for cleaning, for clearing da bad juju, for luck, for clearing your mind, for lust….”
            “Clearing my mind?”
            “She canno’ stay in der, Cris. She will kill joo.”
            “You’re wiping my memory of her?”
            “No, da ‘eart is stronger den da mind. I will simply fog joor mind of her. Like if all was a dream. Dat’s all.” She walked toward the door and nodded at the goblin outside. Cris didn’t like the idea of losing his memories of her. He wanted to hang on to them and cherish them silently, but perhaps she was right. Perhaps she was going to hinder the next stage of his life. He looked at Tia and saw her waving at him.
            “Come on, Cristianno. And lose da clothes.” He obeyed and removed his clothing, the same clothing he had been wearing for days. The same clothing he had worn the last time he saw…
            He walked out of the hut, naked and his head hanging low. Tia saw him and sighed, shaking her head. She grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the wooden tub outside the hut. “Joo be a strong…” She looked him up and down and smirked, “…good lookin’ man, Cristianno. Walk straight.” Cris lifted his head and saw the ocean ahead of him. By the tub, a shy goblin’s eyes widened at the sight of the nude elf and he gazed away. Tia laughed and patted the goblin’s head. “ ‘ee be jus’ a man, Tik. Nuttin’ wrong wit nudity.” Cris looked at the goblin, who lifted his head and helped him enter the tub.
Once he was settled, Tia began to pour the herbs into the tub, the warm water triggering the scents that the petals and plants emitted. Cris closed his eyes and simply inhaled the soothing scent while Tia gently scrubbed his body. The goblin watched for a brief moment before he simply walked away, back into the hut. With a sponge in one hand and her free hand rubbing his body, she leaned against the tub, close to his ear, whispering, as if she were fine-tuning his psyche.
“Joo be strong, Cristianno.” She rubbed his torso, gently, a purr against his ear. “Joo be the man joo want ta be, not one controlled by emotions.” She went lower, beneath the water. Cris shivered slightly as she touched his waist, moving further below. He smirked, but didn’t say a word, keeping his eyes closed. Tia seemed to hug him as she reached over to rub his legs. “What joo want, Cristianno?”
“What do I really want?”
“Anyting in da world.” She whispered into his ear, her breath sending shivers down his spine. “What is it joo really want?”
“I want a home, Tia.” His words were soft, quiet. “I want a family. I want to be what my father wasn’t.”
“Joo canno be dat and be wat joo are.”
Cris sighed softly, “Then take it away. Take my desire away from me. The thought of family, of love, of a home.”
“I canno take it away. Like I sed, it be ‘ere, in joor ‘eart.” She moved her wet hand up to his chest, inches away from the shark tooth. “But I can fog joor mind. When joo find da one who is willing ta give joo what joo really want, the clouds will be gone.” She rubs his torso as she removes her hands from the water. She reaches down and gives him a cup with a white, swirly substance. He opens his eyes and looks at her. “Drink and it would all ‘ave been a dream. Don’ drink, and joo will be a slave to joor feelins’”
“I won’t forget her?”
“Oter thoughts will keep joo busy.” She touched the center of his chest. “But she be livin’ ‘ere if joo let her. No potion stron’ enough to take dat away from joo. If joo are reminded of ‘er, joo will remember.” Cris nodded and reached for the concoction. He stared at it for a while before lifting the cup to his lips and tilting it back, he swallowed.
For a brief moment, as he gasped, he saw an entire run of his relationship. The moment they met, the promises, the intimacy, the touch. Her smile. Soon, the images began to cloud in his mind. He wanted to say her name. Once more. Just once more. He wanted to say…
“Cristianno, come back ta me, Cristianno…” Tia’s voice whispered into his ear while her hands rubbed his chest and caressed his head. “Come back, Cristianno.” Cris blinked and gulped, staring at nothing. “What be on joor mind?”
“I…I wanted to say something…”
“Wat be dat?”
“I…I don’t know.” Tia smiled and nodded, kissing his cheek.
“Come. Let us get joo inside. Joo be cleansed now.”
“I feel…empty.”
“Joo gonna be fine, Cristianno. Speak to Da Captain. ‘ee will show joo da way.”
Cris nodded, walking naked back to the hut. Something was bothering him, but he didn’t remember what. Tia kept talking about the herb to prevent pregnancies, about the concoction he added to the water to increase his drive, about finding The Captain, but all he could focus on was trying to figure out what he was thinking about; what bothered him. He touched his shark tooth and sighed, turning to Tia, who was smiling wickedly at him.

38. My Never

That night, after he lost Rain...

Story inspired by "My Never" by Blue October.
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            “Rain?” His voice echoed all around. It sounded empty, hollow. “I’m coming for you. Rain!” Cris ran and ran, but there was nowhere to run to. Then, there was laughter. Cris turned and saw a female in white passing by in the darkness. “Rain! Wait!” Cris ran after her, but he didn’t seem to reach her. She turned around and smiled at him. He stopped and smiled back at her. It was her smile that captured his heart since day one. It was her smile that lit up his heart. Her arms reached out to him and he began to run toward her, but she never seemed to get closer. Instead, a man, a dark haired elf, passed him and reached her first.
            “She’s mine,” Cris tried to scream out, but it wasn’t loud enough. “Stay away from her! She’s mine!” The little elf boy tried to run again. “Stay away from her! She’s my mom! She’s mine!” He looked at the two figures in an embrace. The woman leaned from behind the dark haired man. Her long flowing auburn hair framed her like a cascade. She smiled at the boy and reached out for him. The human turned and frowned, reaching to kiss the woman again. “No! She’s mine!”
            “She’s mine!” The echo got louder as Rain peeked from behind the dark haired elf.
            “I love him, Cristianno.” Her voice was angelic. It was a blessing. It was what he had always wanted to hear, but not those words.
            “You love me, Rain. You told me. You swore to me. It was me, not him.”
            “I love him.”
            He drew his pistol and pointed it at the elf’s head. “No!” The loud bang echoed viciously around him and he dropped the pistol to cover his ears and eyes. When he looked up, the darkness was gone. He looked around and noticed he was on his ship. He took a few steps and saw two figures running past him. Children…on a ship? He stared at them, noticing their auburn hair and green eyes. He looked up and noticed Rain at the cabin door. She smiled at him, extending her arms to him.
            “Is… is this real?” Cristianno walked toward her and she wrapped her arms around him, holding him close. He closed his eyes, the sound of the ocean surrounding him, the children’s laughter getting closer. “I dreamed you left me, Rain.” She tilted her head and looked at him, a look of concern on her face. “You left me…for another. You lied to me. You betrayed me.” He held her again, feeling her warmth, enveloped in her scent.
            “I did, Cristianno.” He opened his eyes once he heard her speak, and pulled away. She was still smiling. Cris looked at her lips and back at her.
            “You...you can’t speak.”
            “I left you. I love him.”
            Cris turned around and saw him again with his dark hair. “I belong to him. Forever.”
            Cris shook his head before he fell through the ship, into an ocean. “Rain!” The man looked down at him and extended his arm toward Cris. At first, he doubted the man’s help, but anything for Rain. He lived for her. He reached out for the man and as he lifted Cris out, he reached for the shark tooth and pulled it off.
            “Now you’ll never take her away from me,” he said. Rain stood beside him, smiling at Cris as he sank to the bottom of the ocean.
            “Joo gonna die, Cristianno!”
            “Tia! Rain! Help!”
            “Joo is damned! He knew too much.”
            “NO!” Cris hit the ground, once more surrounded in darkness. His heart beating fast as Rain walked up to him once more. She handed him the tooth back. “Rain, will you think of me in time?” She shook her head and kissed his cheek, the same way she did when she first met him. With a smile, she simply turned around and walked away.
            “Rain…”


            He didn’t open his eye even though he knew he was awake. They quickly filled in tears as he held his pillow close. It still held her scent. He only had a few more days before that was gone as well. “It’s never my luck,” he whispered. He took a deep breath. Once more, Cristianno D’Avros, not Wolf, nor the captain, but Cristianno the elf, had lost the home he had dreamed of. The love of someone who loved him in return. And this time, he knew it wasn’t his fault, which pained him even more. He buried his face in the pillow, not wanting to sleep because if he did, she would be there and nothing would change.
            She was still gone.