Matron Kaumalea

“Wow… you’re tall, even for a tauren. And what happened to your face?”
“I’m not a tauren, I’m a taunka. We’re relatives of the tauren who live in Northrend. We all look like this.”
“Cooool!”

Alas, Matron is a title I will never obtain in-game until “School of Hard Knocks” is removed from the Children’s Week meta requirements. Although certain of my characters would like to be able to use that title, it doesn’t fall into the category of things I want badly enough to suffer through PvP for them.

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the Underpowered Death Knight and the orphans

In mid-spring — or what she was told was mid-spring, back in Azeroth; here in Outland, there did not seem to be any noticeable seasons — Kaumalea returned to her lodging house one evening to find the public areas filled with chattering orcish and blood elven children. Surprised, she asked the innkeeper what was going on.

The innkeeper raised an eyebrow at her. “Ah, right, you’re one o’ them taunka from Northrend, ain’tcha? So you wouldn’t know ’bout Children’s Week. There have been so many wars everywhere that all the big cities have orphanages overflowing with children that have lost their parents. Once a year, the orphan matrons do a charity drive to get adventurers to recognize the cost of the wars by giving a little of their time to these poor kids.”

“But what do you, well, do with one of these children?” Kaumalea wondered.

“Oh, mostly you just let them follow you around as you do whatever it is you do everyday anyway. Usually, the kids have a few particular things they really want to do, too — places they’ve dreamed about going, famous people they want to see for themselves, that kind of thing. And it’s nice to buy them a treat or a toy or something at the end of the week, to help them remember you.”

Kaumalea looked around the crowded, noisy room. “It certainly seems to be popular.”

“Aye,” the innkeeper smiled. “The kids, they want you to remember them, too. They’re always taming little critters of one sort or another, and of course the orphan matrons won’t let them keep them, so they’ll give them to you. A lot of adventurers treat the orphans they sponsor kind of like a little sister or brother — write them letters, send them trinkets, that kind of thing. Those folks over there,” the innkeeper indicated an orc warrior and a troll hunter who were playing cards with two blood elf children, “have sponsored those same kids from the orphanage over in Shattrath for three years or so now. It’s great experience, they say — doesn’t strengthen the body much, but does wonders for the heart.”

Kaumalea considered this. She could definitely use more experience, in whatever form. The Battle for Light’s Hope Chapel had left her severely debilitated, making the usual ways that adventurers gained experience very difficult for her. It had taken her nearly a year in Outland to gain enough strength to even think about trying to return to her once-home of Camp Winterhoof, and when she’d gotten there, she’d soon realized that she wasn’t nearly strong enough yet to contribute meaningfully to the defense and provisioning of the tribe. So she had come back to Outland. She had surely created orphans herself during her time as the Lich King’s thrall. Because of her weakness, she was used to being careful, so she wouldn’t have to be any more careful than usual with a child in tow. Sponsoring an orphan was something that was certainly within her power to do.

Kaumalea had such an agreeable outing with the orphan that she sponsored from Shattrath — a clever-fingered blood elf girl named Ameridala who soon had her hair out of its customary braids and twined up into an elaborate crown never seen before or since on a tauren (or taunka) — that she decided to sponsor an orphan from Orgrimmar as well.


With the talkative orc boy Ezrom as her guide, she learned much more in a day or two about the history and heritage of this “Horde” that she had been swept up into upon being freed from the Lich King than she had gleaned during a whole year in Horde settlements in Outland.

“I am sorry,” Matron Aria in Dalaran said, “but only adventurers who have already reached their 70th season are allowed to sponsor the wolvar and oracle children. I have heard, however, that there is an orphanage of taunka children at Agmar’s Hammer in the Dragonblight; the matron there does not like to ask for help, but I am sure she would accept it gladly if you offered.”

“Oh!” said Matron Twinbreeze, when Kaumalea explained her intentions, “I had never thought of something like that, but, yes, it would be a wonderful thing for one of the older children!”

She introduced Kaumalea to a youngster named Omner.

“I miss my sister, Abish,” Omner said when Kaumalea asked him where he would like to go first, “She’s the only other member of my family who escaped when the Nerubians overran our village. She’s almost an adult, though, and she’s already started her real training to be a hunter. I think she’s probably at Westwind, where we’ve had a hunting camp forever. Everyone knows where it is — west of here, just this side of the bridge to Borean Tundra. That’s what made it such a good spot for the refugees from the Scourge attacks to gather.”

“I can’t wait until I’m old enough to start my real training, too!” Omner enthused. “Then I’ll get to be with my sister and her friends all the time!”

~*~*~

“Greatmother Icemist tells us a story about ancient druids trying to grow a huge tree in the middle of the Grizzly Hills,” Omner said next, “I don’t know how growing a big tree could fix the world in the first place, but I guess it didn’t work because she said the tree died. I don’t know if I belive that a tree could get that big, either. Can we go see the place where it was?”

“Wow,” Omner said as they flew over the fallen pieces of Vordrassil and down into Grizzlemaw, “that must have been some strong magic. Usually trees rot to splinters in only a few years after they fall, but Greatmother Icemist said that this tree fell thousands of years ago! I guess that strong magic is why the furbolg decided that this would be a good place to live.”

~*~*~

“Sometimes at night,” Omner confided, “I sneak downstairs and listen to the adventurers talking. Once, I heard one of them saying that he went to a place called the Bronze Dragonshrine, northeast of the dragons’ Wyrmrest Temple, and saw himself, only from the future! And then another one laughed and said that he’d done that, too, and then he’d come back later, and seen himself, only from the past, when he was there before! If we go there, do you think we might see me from the future and you from the past?”

“I wasn’t expecting that… I’ve always wanted to be a hunter. But I guess being a wind tamer wouldn’t be so bad.”

~*~*~

As they rode out of the pass leading to the Bronze Dragonshrine, Omner pointed at the great Titan structure rising up in the distance. “Wyrmrest Temple! That’s where the dragon queen lives, up on the very top floor. I’ve always wanted to see a dragon up close, and she’s supposed to be friendly… right? Let’s go!”

“I never knew that dragons could do that, change their shapes. It makes sense why they do it, but I’d still like to see her dragon form, someday. If her dragon form is too large for even that big room, she must be simply magnificent!”

~*~*~

Finally, Omner said, “I love to hear Greatmother Icemist’s stories. Matron Twinbreeze tells some good stories, too, about the place where she comes from. You know who has all the stories about our people, though? There’s an Elder named Xarantaur who knows everything! He lives at Tunka’lo Village. It’s on a mountaintop way up in the Storm Peaks, north and a little east of the frost giant place called Dun Niffelem. Will you take me to visit him?”

“That was so cool! Maybe being a wind tamer will be better than being a hunter, after all, if it lets me spend more time learning stories.”

Before returning to Agmar’s Hammer, Kaumalea took Omner to The Wonderworks in Dalaran. His eyes grew big and round as he took in the variety of toys. He inspected them all carefully, lingering longingly over the copper racers. Eventually, he chose a paper zeppelin kit, explaining that this toy was simple enough that maybe he could figure out how to make more, to share with the other children, from materials he could scavenge.

When Kaumalea at last came back to her lodgings in Outland at the end of the week, the innkeeper asked, “So, how did you enjoy helping the orphans?”

“It was good experience. It made me feel… warm. On the inside. I think I’ll do it again next year,” she replied.

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the Golden Lotus: the Jedi of Pandaria

The most recent Blizzard short story, “Bleeding Sun”, not only thoroughly jossed the picture of Dezco’s Boys that I posted a couple of weeks ago, it also reveals an interesting similarity between the Golden Lotus and the Jedi. Like the old Jedi, the Golden Lotus choose new members as infants or small children and take them away from their parents and families to be specially raised and trained. Reading this newest story prompted me to get caught up on the rest of the Pandaria short stories, and I found that this particular Jedi-like practice of the Golden Lotus had already been hinted at in part 9 of “Li Li’s Travel Journal”.

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Wrathion’s Kiss

As she handed the last of the re-stolen vegetables to Farmer Yoon, Kamalia felt a sudden burning sensation on her forehead. It flared intensely for a second or two, then faded away.

Puzzled, she rubbed at the spot.
“Are you okay?” Farmer Yoon asked. “Your eyes turned red there for a moment. Come, sit down.”
He prodded her up the stairs, into the house, and onto a chair, then bustled around making up some ginseng tea while Kamalia tried to figure out what had just happened.
As he handed her the steaming mug, Farmer Yoon’s gaze fell on Kamalia’s mace. He frowned at the deep black gem glimmering on the pommel, and, shuddering slightly, hurried back outside.
Then Kamalia remembered. Only a few days after the Black Prince had given her that gem, she had visited him again with the news of the arrival of the Horde and Alliance warfleets on the shores of the Krasarang Wilds. He had received it with a rather childish degree of glee — but then again, she supposed, he was still very much a child, especially as dragons age — and challenged her to prove to him that the Horde was worthy to be the ultimate victor in the ongoing strife with the Alliance. Then he had done something entirely unexpected…

Without warning, Wrathion sliced his thumb and pressed it against her forehead. His blood burned to the touch, but rapidly disappeared into her skin.

“There!”, he said, “My eye is upon you, shaman. I am watching.

The Pandaren, like the Horde, value the concept of “Valor.” There are many ways to prove yourself valorous on this continent, from daily tasks to the defeat of heroic enemies within their lair. I will let you choose your own course.

Prove your bravery to me!”

That had been nearly three months ago. Much had happened in the interim. Blood and oil soaked the sands of once-pristine beaches in Krasarang Wilds. Pressured by Warchief Hellscream, the Sin’dorei had helped him obtain a dangerous ancient mogu artifact — costing the Sunreavers their neutrality — and the Horde’s foothold in Dalaran — in the process. The young Prince of the Alliance, at once wise and brave and very foolish, had destroyed the Divine Bell. It had collapsed on top of him. Kamalia did not know his fate, but she hoped that he had survived, somehow. At this worst of all possible times, the Shado-Pan reported that the ancient mogu hero, the legendary Thunder King, who had been stolen away and resurrected by the Zandalari trolls at about the same time as the Horde and Alliance first arrived on Pandaria, would soon return to his full, terrible strength. While the Warchief continued to press the battle with the Alliance in Krasarang, the displaced and utterly outraged Sunreavers took this matter into their own hands, hoping to show the Shado-Pan that at least some of the Horde were interested in honorably helping. Kamalia had helped them secure an outpost on the island where the Thunder King’s stronghold was located. She’d spent most of the last month there, fighting trolls and mogu and mogu and trolls and occasionally some saurok and more trolls and more mogu, until finally the way to the gates of the palace itself was cleared. She had carefully stayed out of the sniping between the Sunreavers and the Kirin Tor, who were leading the Alliance’s effort to aid the Shado-Pan. She had a handful of keys to the palace treasure room that she hadn’t yet mustered up the… greed to use. And yet.. and yet… after all of that, it was completing a simple task of service, one that Kamalia had done many times before and would probably do many times again, that had apparently been the final “proof of bravery” that Wrathion wanted.

Kamalia carefully placed the empty mug with the rest of Farmer Yoon’s dirty crockery, and, smiling, went out into the garden to tell him that everything was just fine.

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Dezco’s Boys

Sunwalker Dezco says that he named one of his twin sons “Kor”, after Kor Bloodtusk, and the other after the adventurer who assisted him at Thunder Cleft. I suspect that, should the twins ever appear in some later expansion as larger children, the other one will actually be named “Kang”, after Kang Bramblestaff.

Edit, 3 May 2013: This picture has now been jossed by the publication of the short story “Bleeding Sun”.

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Leza’s Dream

The Dawnchaser tribe are close cousins (on a tribal scale) to the Dawnstrider tribe, so Kamalia and her siblings spent their childhood and adolescence mingling as much with the Dawnchasers as with the Dawnstriders. Like young Dezco, heir to the Dawnchaser chieftainship, Kamalia’s youngest siblings, the twins Kaohana and Karaelia, were drawn to the philosophies of Tahu Sagewind and Aponi Brightmane. In those early days, as the fledgling Seers and Sunwalkers studied ways to effectively draw upon the Light of An’She, they were few enough in number that they all knew one another by name. Although increasing numbers of Shu’halo chose to follow the paths of An’she as the Cataclysm raged, Kaohana and Karaelia remained close to their Dawnchaser friends.

Around the time that the elite warriors of Azeroth were battling the Old Gods at Wymrest Temple, preparing to take on Deathwing himself, Dezco’s wife, Leza, began to have the same strange dream over and over. She described a beautiful valley, rich and fertile, watered with streams that glowed softly golden, giving the grass and trees shades of gold and crimson. When Karaelia and Kaohana told Kamalia about their friend’s dreams, Kamalia asked if perhaps Leza might be thinking of the enchanted lands of the Sin’dorei, where it always seemed to be simultaneously spring and autumn. The girls brought this suggestion to Leza, and she emphatically responded that she had been to the Eversong Woods, and this place in her dream was certainly not the same. Although no-one knew of anywhere on Azeroth like it, the more often Leza had what she began to call “The Golden Dream”, the more strongly she felt that this place did exist on Azeroth, somewhere in the uncharted southern seas.

That winter, Chief Dawnchaser passed into the arms of the Earthmother, and Dezco became Chieftain of his tribe. When, following the final Madness and defeat of Deathwing and the exhaustion of the Dragon Aspects, High Chieftain Baine Bloodhoof began to have strange dreams, he remembered hearing old Chief Dawnchaser tell of his daughter-in-law’s visions, and he requested Sunwalker Dezco and Seer Leza’s counsel. Upon discovering that his dreams were the same as Leza’s persistent visions, the High Chieftain decided that this place of golden peace must be found. He commissioned four ships to carry Sunwalker Dezco, Seer Leza, and any who wished to accompany them on their search. With their Chieftain, Dezco, in charge of the expedition, many of the Dawnchasers chose to brave the unknown seas. A few Seers and Sunwalkers from other tribes, including Kaohana and Karaelia, also joined the pilgrims. The ships departed from Ratchet barely a week before Warchief Hellscream began gathering his forces for the assault on Northwatch Hold that ultimately led to the destruction of Theramore…

Like Akabeko’s Weipon, the actual leveling of my Tauren Priest and Paladin lags severely behind their RP stories. For Kaohana and Karaelia, questing through the Jade Forest and most of the Valley of the Four Winds will be purely ‘out-of-character’ game mechanics. Their ‘in-character’ experience of Pandaria will begin at Thunder Cleft in Krasarang Wilds, because RP-story-wise, they came to Pandaria with the Dawnchaser expedition. Karaelia is among Sunwalker Dezco’s honor guard of Dawnchaser Braves at the Shrine of Two Moons, and Kaohana has stayed at Stoneplow with the greater body of the Dawnchaser settlers.

In the artwork, Karaelia is wearing her Grunt’s/Outrunner’s “Sunwalker Initiate” set, but I didn’t get the other clothes quite right. Leza is wearing Flirtation Robes when she should be wearing Magus Tirth’s Robe, and Dezco is wearing the BC recolor of the Battlegear of Might when he should be wearing the Vengeful Gladiator’s set.

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the real ambassador

For Akabeko.

In one farming village, after what even Akabeko could tell was one ale too many for her pandaren companion, Weipon was convinced to break out her sanxian. Although Akabeko often heard Weipon humming or singing to herself, the long-necked instrument had remained in its case, quiet and safe from the elements while they traveled.

Now, though, eyes swimming with drink, Weipon laughed, said something that made the pandaren closest to her gesticulate encouragingly, and plucked a string experimentally. The room quieted as she carefully tuned the instrument. From the bar, a voice called out something that had other pandaren nodding in what Akabeko assumed was agreement.

“They are requesting songs,” Weipon said suddenly, looking at Akabeko. The sudden burst of Orcish made the druid jump, sloshing ale over her fingers. “Some of the titles sound familiar. Others may be songs I know by a different name.” She grinned, looking like a very different pandaren than the one that had shied away from an angry General Nazgrim, and began to play.

The gathered audience was mostly silent for the first verse. The pandaren nodded their heads, clapped, or turned to each other to whisper excitedly. Akabeko listened with interest, appreciating the sincerity and huskiness of Weipon’s voice. By the second verse, the older pandaren in the inn were singing along, ribbing each other when they forgot the words or differed from what Weipon was singing. The song continued, picking up speed, and those who couldn’t sing along made up for it by clapping, pounding the tables, and stomping their feet. Even Akabeko found herself humming along by the end.

Before the last note had died away, Weipon was slipping into another song, this one eliciting more cheers of recognition. Akabeko drained her glass, absently thanking the person next to her as they topped it off again. It seemed that the night was just picking up.

The following morning, Weipon still managed to look only slightly rumpled compared to Akabeko, who was more or less wrecked. She rubbed irritably at her temples, trying to pay attention to the new map the innkeeper was explaining to Weipon. The impromptu concert the night before had gained them not only a clean, locally-drawn map of the area, but a handwritten introduction from the village leader to the mayor of Dawn’s Blossom, which appeared to be a major nearby city.

The title of this post is a reference to the song of the same name from the Brubeck/Armstrong collaboration “The Real Ambassadors”, in which, after a chorus by the state department ambassador characters, Louis Armstrong’s character, a jazz musician, sings:
I’m the real ambassador.
It is evident I was sent by government to take your place.
All I do is play the blues and meet the people face-to-face.
I’ll explain and make it plain, I represent the human race.
I don’t pretend no more.

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“Forget injuries. Never forget kindnesses.” (4/4)

Physically, the towering personage who seemed to be the leader of the strange beings camped around the hermit Wei Palerage’s hut reminded Kaoling very strongly of Wugou. He had nothing of the ancient earth spirit’s sleepy, placid nature about him, however. As the — tauren, Kaoling remembered from her childhood lessons — briskly described to Ji, Aysa, Kaoling, Koralyra, and the others who had come from the Academy and the Temple the circumstances that had led to the crash of the sky-vessel into Shen-zin Su’s side — a battle of ships off an unknown coast, the capture of himself and his “Horde” companions by their “Alliance” enemies after their ship capsized, an insurrection against their captors, an attack by lizard-men who had stowed away on the airship that took everyone by surprise — and his efforts to locate his comrades and survive in the Pei-Wu Forest over the past weeks, he was also listening to reports from his people and issuing new instructions. The tauren’s decisiveness impressed Kaoling, as did the shelters, the pile of crude weapons, and what appeared to be the skeletons of several small boats he and his people had constructed from broken bamboo trunks and other woodland materials.

Aysa and some of the others left to find the survivors from the other side of the sea-battle the tauren had described as soon as he had finished telling them about why the airship had crashed.

“We want to return to our homes,” the tauren was saying, “but that airship isn’t going anywhere ever again. We can help you dislodge it from your island, but we need to find our engineer. He parted ways with us when we were escaping the wreckage. We’d also appreciate it if you helped us find a way back to our own country.”

Ji quickly agreed, and Kaoling could see the twinkle in his eyes that meant he was thinking up a Plan.

They found more small groups of “Horde” survivors, including the engineer, as they pushed through the woods toward the crashed airship. They also discovered that the strange lizard-men had survived the crash, too, and were wreaking havoc on the entire Pei-Wu Forest ecosystem.

The “Alliance” survivors had gathered and set up tents quite close to the wreck. Their leader, a slender creature who looked to Kaoling very much like an oversized, oddly-colored sprite, gave a rather different account of the sea battle, the fight aboard the airship, and the crash.
“This island wasn’t on any of our charts… we came through a thick mist and ploughed straight into the forest. We didn’t see it coming,” she said.
She explained that over the past weeks, she and her people had been scavenging as much as they could from the wreck, but their efforts had been severely impeded by the lizard-men. She praised Aysa for having gone off immediately to distract the leader of the lizard-men so that a final collection of materials from the airship could be made, and she asked for help in reclaiming the supplies and rescuing those of her people who had been wounded during the most recent clashes with the lizard-men.

“I think I like these people,” Koralyra mused quietly as the two girls carried a stack of crates back from the wreck to the tents. “See how they have gotten all of their people into one place. See how they are salvaging as much of their own material as they can, so that they take as little as possible from our land.”

“But they had taken those other people prisoners,” Kaoling replied.

“Their ship was sinking. They saved them from drowning. And it doesn’t seem like they’ve made much of an effort, in all these weeks, to go find them in the forest and re-capture them,” Kora pointed out.

Kaoling didn’t have a good answer for that, but she still felt more sympathetic toward the tauren and his fellow Horde.

~*~*~

The blast knocked Kora to the ground. The land heaved beneath her as Shen-zin Su groaned in agony. It was the most awful sound she had ever heard, worse than a whole herd — worse than ten herds — of yaks in labor. She struggled to her feet. The wound in Shen-zin Su’s shell gushed terrible rivers of blood. Though she was not at all squeamish, Kora began to feel a little light-headed and quickly looked away. Nearby, Kaoling was getting up. Kora saw her friend sway and her face pale as she caught sight of the awful wound. Quickly, Kora grabbed Kaoling’s shoulders and turned her away.

“Remember Master Firepaw’s plan,” she said urgently. “Hurry, go find as many healers as you can and bring them here to save Shen-zin Su!” Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a movement — the strange lizard-men, maddened by the scent of blood. “I will stay and defend the healers once you get them here. Hurry!”

Kaoling nodded and dashed off. Kora settled into a comfortable stance and began running through warm-up movements and incantations. Soon Kaoling was back, carrying one of the slender, white-robed Alliance priests over her shoulders. Like the wind and fire of the philosophy she favored, Kaoling darted about, bringing back one healer after another. Like the earth and water of the philosophy she favored, Koralyra was both firm and fluid as she fought off the frenzied lizard-men and kept them from attacking the healers. All around, others from the Academy and the Temple were doing the same.

For hours, it seemed, they fought while the terrible flow of blood continued and Shen-zin Su groaned and writhed. The healers poured all of their energy into their spells, until they began to collapse from exhaustion. Slowly, the torrent quieted to a stream and then to a trickle, and then, almost suddenly, the wound sealed. The troll and tauren healers joined their hands in a great spell, and everyone stumbled as earth shifted out from under their feet to cover and protect the raw flesh. The Horde healers then flung enchanted seeds over the dark, bloodsoaked soil. As they chanted, grasses, bushes, and trees sprung up, magically, to further stabilize the earthen scab. It would still be centuries before Shen-zin Su’s shell completely recovered — and there would always be a scar, a weak spot, in that place — but for now, at least, he would not die, and his pain, while perhaps greater now than it had been when the wrecked ship had still been embedded in his side, would eventually subside and vanish.

~*~*~

~*~*~

For a fleeting moment, the scent of the breeze shifted from canal water and pumpkin pancakes to cherry blossoms and ginseng tea, and a piece of parchment hastily folded into the shape of a crane tumbled through the second-story window of the inn in Stormwind where Koralyra was packing her bags and came to rest at her feet.

Kora picked up the parchment and carefully unfolded it, smiling as she recognized the calligraphic scrawl.

Koralyra–
I promised to write to you when I got to Orgrimmar, did I not? The EmperorWarchief of the Horde would consider even this contact treasonous, yet I cannot so blithely cast aside what Master Shang Xi told us so many times: “Forget injuries. Never forget kindnesses.” And you have been far kinder to me than I deserved. May your days bring you joy.
–Kaoling

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“My time has passed. Your time approaches swiftly.” (3/4)

Though she had heard the tale of Liu Lang and the story about his umbrella and the Wood of Staves all her life, Kaoling had never really expected to ever set foot in that mystical place herself. She would have imagined even less that she might do so in company with all the monks and students from the Academy, but for some reason, it had seemed vitally important to Master Shang Xi that they all attend his final meditation. As the aged Master simply faded away and his charm-bedecked staff burst into bloom, Kaoling glanced, through her tears, at Koralyra and was a bit surprised to see that the other girl was also crying. Cool, emotionless Kora was actually crying. On a sudden impulse, Kaoling put her arm around Kora’s shoulders. The other girl covered her face with her hands and cried even harder for a minute or so. Then she wiped her eyes with the back of her paws and stood, pulling Kaoling up with her.

“Let’s go, Kaoling,” she said, “We’ve got to finish the task Master Shang Xi has set us. Let’s go find Master Firepaw and Master Cloudsinger at the balloon platform and see if Shen-zin Su will speak to us.”

~*~*~

Kora’s emotions roiled like a pot of her mother’s sweet-and-sour soup. Exhilaration from the soaring balloon ride, awe at the privilege of actually speaking with Shen-zin Su, horror at the huge airship embedded in the great turtle’s side, curiosity about the strange beings in and around the wrecked vessel, grief at the passing of Master Shang Xi. It was almost too much to bear, so she merely stood, staring blankly ahead at the statue of Liu Lang, barely listening as Master Firepaw and Master Cloudsinger reported their conversation with Shen-zin Su to Elder Shaopai.

“And you, Koralyra, Kaoling,” Elder Shaopai suddenly addressed them, “Master Shang Xi thought very highly of you indeed. What do you think we should do?”

“I think that the sky has gotten dark,” Kaoling answered, “and the stars are shining, and whatever we must do to cure Shen-zin Su, it will take great effort. I think we should rest and make plans in the morning.”

Master Firepaw and Master Cloudsinger’s faces displayed identical expressions of mingled approval and dismay as Kaoling bowed to each of them and to Elder Shaopai, then turned to leave the Temple of Five Dawns.

“Come on, Kora,” she said, tugging at Kora’s hand, “my parents live just down the hill. My father makes the best steamed buns in all Mandori Village, and I’m sure we can find a couch for you somewhere in the house.”

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“Our greatest trials yet lie before us.” (2/4)

Legend had it that the first hozen had come to Shen-zin Su as the servants of the priests and scholars who had initially coaxed the four ancient elemental spirits to bring their blessings to the great turtle.* As far as Kaoling knew, however, hozen were nothing but a nuisance. She couldn’t understand how anyone, let alone a great thinker, could have willingly brought them to the Wandering Isle. She suspected that, like the virmen, the first hozen had really been stowaways. Still, she was glad to be doing something, helping Ji roust the hozen from Wu-Song Village while they waited for Aysa to finish meditating about Huo.

They’d sent the hozen scampering off, whimpering, helped the villagers gather and re-organize scattered belongings, and were starting to get a little bored when at last a messenger approached. Kaoling felt her expression turning to a scowl as she recognized her roommate.

“Master Cloudsinger has spoken with Master Li Fei,” Koralyra said primly, “and she has learned that Huo is weakened and requires fuel and fanning.”

Ji smacked his forehead with the palm of his hand. “Of course,” he said, “it’s so simple and obvious! Why didn’t I think of that already?” He shook his head and continued, “Quickly, friends” — he waved a paw at both of them — “with all the strange weather lately, it shouldn’t be hard to find some dry roots and twigs in the dogwood thicket just west of here. As for the fanning, well, if it can punch you, you can punch it back, and it won’t slip through your grasp. We ought to be able to invoke a minor air spirit at the shrine in the thicket.”

When Koralyra began gathering the kindling, Kaoling raced to the shrine. The gentle breeze kicked up into a brisk wind that whipped her hair as she battled the air spirit. She used mostly spells, but was delighted to find that she could, as Ji had said, strike the animate cloud with her quaking palm. As she forced it into her bag, she felt like the defeated mist was continually slipping from her paws. Amazingly, once she got it in, it stayed there, puffing the bag up into a fat little balloon that surely would have floated away had it not also been laden with books, her fan, and a little something for lunch.

The monk at the entrance to Huo’s cavern shrine bowed nervously. “Huo has not been well, and that has put him into a temper,” he warned, pointing at the jets of fire blossoming randomly from the floor of the tunnel leading deeper into the shrine.

“Excellent, an obstacle course to keep us on our toes!” said Ji, darting immediately into the tunnel. Kaoling promptly followed. She and Ji had more than enough time to catch their breath by the pool in the next cavern before Koralyra finally emerged from the firestorm, carrying the kindling.

“What took you so long?” Kaoling demanded.

“I had to meditate and center myself to see clearly the path through the fire,” the other girl replied with irritating calm.

“Well, then, let’s not keep Huo waiting,” said Ji, bounding up the stairs to the next room. The spirit of Master Li Fei awaited them there, standing by a shallow pool surrounded by smoldering braziers.

“You,” the ghostly Master said after several long minutes, tipping his staff toward Kaoling, “yes, I think it should be you. You should be the one to face the challenge. You have much energy and enthusiasm. Huo likes that. But do you also have the equilibrium and endurance to weather his caprices?”

He instructed her to take a brand from the brightly burning brazier at his side and light the braziers in the other corners of the chamber. As she lit the braziers and smelled the different herbs and woods within each one, Kaoling felt invigorated and refreshed.

Even as a ghost, Master Li Fei was a formidable opponent. Ji — and even Koralyra — several times attempted to join the fight, but every time, the spectral Master had held up a warning paw and sent them back to the stairs to wait.

“You earned the right to proceed,” said Master Li Fei at last, as Kaoling stood panting in the middle of the pool, not caring that she was thoroughly soaked. “Huo lies beyond. May your offerings soothe and strengthen him.”

Huo was a tiny spark in the darkness of the uppermost cavern of the shrine. Kaoling thought she heard him growling as she approached, and her shadow flickered frighteningly on the rough cavern walls. Not knowing quite what to say to the ancient fire spirit, Kaoling simply tossed one of the dry pieces of dogwood at him and released a puff of the captive breeze from her bag. Huo crackled as he devoured the wood, and he seemed to grow larger. Encouraged, Kaoling tossed him the rest of the wood, alternating with puffs of breeze. Huo grew larger and his crackling became more and more like laughter with each piece.

His catlike face smiling broadly, Huo danced about Kaoling as she returned triumphantly to where the others had been waiting.

*see Pearl of Pandaria page 2

~*~*~

“Lyra, darling!” said Nai-nai, wiping her hands on her apron as she came around from behind the counter of the family stall at the Dai-Lo market. “I didn’t expect to see you home from the Academy so soon. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, Nai-nai,” Koralyra said, giving her grandmother a hug. “Or at least, nothing’s wrong with me. Something has been wrong with Shen-zin Su lately, you know, and Master Shang Xi has sent us” — she waved her hand at the small group of monks and other students from the Academy who had come with her — “to bring Wugou back to the Temple so that he can help us find out what it is.”

“Ah, yes,” Nai-nai sighed worriedly. “Wugou has not been well. He fell into a deep sleep when the ground shook, just before Shen-zin Su began to carry us into harsher climates.” She gestured toward the recess gong in the center of the market. Wugou lay snuggled up against the decorative retaining wall around the gong. Kora suddenly realized that the unfamiliar sound she’d been hearing was the gentle snoring of the ancient earth spirit. Nai-nai continued, “Since then, the land has been drying out, and fewer and fewer of the seeds we plant actually sprout. We are in for hard times if Wugou and Shen-zin Su do not recover.”

Though she was shocked by this news, Kora kept her expression as composed as she could manage. Wugou had been a constant presence during her cubhood, sedately rumbling hither and thither among the fields and crops. She and her siblings, cousins, and friends had made a game of trying to corral him in the center of a field as they attended to their chores of watering and weeding, but somehow, as slow and placid as Wugou always seemed, they had never succeeded. Indeed, it had been she who had reminded Master Shang Xi that Wugou dwelt at Dai-Lo.

As she watched the impatient monk buffeting Wugou in a most disrespectful — and futile — attempt to wake him, Kora wondered again why Master Shang Xi had sent Master Firepaw to Dai-Lo, and Master Cloudsinger to the Singing Pools, instead of the other way ’round. Surely there must be a better way to rouse Wugou. Kora sat down, settling into a meditative posture, and began pondering….

The shadows had shifted direction when the resonating clangor of the recess gong and the sound of Nai-nai laughing brought Kora back to full awareness of the world around her, still without a best solution to the problem.

“Silly monk,” chuckled Nai-nai, shaking her head, “if he’d thought to ask, we would have told him that we’ve been ringing that gong three times a day just like we always do for weeks without waking Wugou.”

A delivery cart rattled into town, carrying Master Cloudsinger and the others who had gone with her to the Singing Pools. Bobbling along behind it was… Shu? It seemed that they been successful in contacting the ancient water spirit. Master Cloudsinger conversed briefly with Master Firepaw, then Master Firepaw clapped his hands together with an air of great excitement and indicated that one of the students who had come with Master Cloudsinger should go do something. The girl nodded and started in the direction Master Firepaw had pointed. Then she hesitated and turned, and, with a sinking feeling, Koralyra recognized her rival.

“Come with me to speak to Shu,” Kaoling demanded, imperiously thrusting out a paw as if to help Kora up from her meditative pose. Kora ignored the proffered paw and raised a questioning eyebrow. Kaoling rolled her eyes. “Ji thinks Shu can help us wake up Wugou,” she explained.
Still ignoring Kaoling’s outstretched hand, Kora rose gracefully to her feet. The two girls walked to the pond, where Shu was coaxing the water to spurt up into geysers.
“Shu!” Kaoling called, “Wugou is asleep and will not waken. Will you come blast him?“
Kora barely restrained a gasp. How impertinent! But the water spirit just burbled and darted to the other side of the pond.
“I think he wants us to play with him,” said Kaoling with a mischevious smile. “You go first!” — and she pushed Kora toward the water. Kora stumbled and was surprised to find herself walking on the water instead of floundering in the water. She folded her arms and glared at Kaoling.
“Go on,” Kaoling urged, “stand in the waterspout!” When Kora didn’t move, Kaoling came out onto the water, too, and pushed her toward the patch of water that Shu was churning up. Kora resisted, but finally Kaoling struck her with a quaking palm, and, stunned, she fell over, right into the agitated water. Suddenly, she was flung into the air by a geyser. The view from the top was amazing! As she fell back toward the pond, she heard Shu giggling — and she was laughing, too.
“That was kind of fun,” Kora admitted, after she caught her breath — but Kaoling did not hear her, because she was high in the air on another waterspout.
When Kaoling landed, Shu burbled in a different way and bobbled off toward the market square. The two girls hurried behind him, arriving just in time to see the water spirit summon a powerful jet of water right in the earth spirit’s face. Wugou roared and began chasing Shu all around the market. Master Firepaw laughed a great belly laugh, and Master Cloudsinger smiled.

~*~*~

True to his word, after dealing with Morning Breeze Village’s hozen problem, Ji set the monks and students of the Academy to helping Elder Shaopai rewrite the destroyed defaced scrolls of wisdom. Although this was an honorable task, Kaoling’s mind soon wandered. She sat idly bouncing her toes, barely stifling her giggles as she remembered how she had only with great effort not laughed when the conceited, pompous Jojo Ironbrow had finally met his match in the beautiful jade and bronze tiger pillar that they’d retrieved from the hozen village.

“Do you mind?” a cool voice interrupted her thoughts. Across the table, Koralyra was giving her a steady, disapproving stare. “Writing these scrolls is a form of meditation, you know, and you are disrupting mine. I would thank you to stop fidgeting.”

The sun was setting when Ji finally declared that they had done enough work with the scrolls, for now. He called Kaoling and, to her irritation, Koralyra, to go out to the lake and discover if Aysa’s contemplations had yet revealed anything useful. Aysa raised an eyebrow as they approached her, for for all of Koralyra’s practice and meditation, it was Kaoling who had run nimbly over the taut ropes and arrived first, with dry fur. Meanwhile, Koralyra had stopped mid-path to appreciate the spectacular view of the sunset over the lake, wobbled on the ropes, fallen, and now came panting up second, soaking wet.

“It is often both necessary and admirable,” Aysa said mildly, “to keep one’s eyes and mind fixed on one’s true objectives.”

(A.N. This actually happened while I was leveling these two characters through the Wandering Isle. I got across the ropes on the first try with Kaoling, but with Koralyra, I stopped in the middle to take some screenshots, fell off, and had to try again.)

~*~*~

When at last the huge black cloud serpent curled up in death, Kora thought her fur would never lay flat again. All around, static discharge still crackled from the lightning pools the serpent had spit on the ground as they tried to bring it down with fireworks. It had been a crazy plan, but somehow, it had worked. The fight had been quite exhilarating, and she had to admit that she and Master Cloudsinger — and Master Firepaw and the impetuous Kaoling — had made a terrific team. The ancient spirit of air, Dafeng, fluttered around them all, cooing thanks and relief. Master Cloudsinger knelt in respect at the great beast’s head for several minutes. For all that he had been terrifying Dafeng, Zhao-Ren had been a magnificent — and, as far as Kora knew, a unique — presence among the mountains of the Wandering Isle.

Master Firepaw shifted awkwardly from one foot to the other. Kora wondered if he was thinking about speaking to Master Cloudsinger, as she had suggested — and she was secretly glad that for once in his life, he was choosing to exercise restraint. Beside him, Kaoling suddenly dropped to her knees, too, and Kora was startled to hear her sniffling. Could it be? Obnoxious, thoughtless Kaoling, crying?

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