Voodoo With Juju
Thurday 14th
It has been a long while since I have come to dis odd world. I see da trees surround me from all sides, but yet I see no life. I only see da rugged bark upon da trunks dat watch me, gaze at me, all day long. Perhaps when I look back at dis journal I will begin to understand da stupidity of my words. But I doubt I will ever come to dat conclusion.
I can't begin to guess da day and time anymore. Dem cursed trees and dis cursed forest block out any and all light dat tries to pierce through. I cannot even remember how many daily cycles have passed since I came here. I only mark da date, a random date, to help me keep track of when it is day and when it is night. Ya barely ever notice da change from dawn to dusk here. Ya barely ever get da chance to.
Da only thing I remember was dat it has been hours since I have last ate anything. Da wildlife here is scarce, devoid of anything I can really sink my teeth into. No rabbits. No squirrels. None of dem succulent, juicy deer to sate my hunger. Da only things I can find in dis dark jungle are bugs and mushrooms. It's been a very long time since I had eaten a mushroom. I had almost forgotten why I hated da taste of dem. I use a handful of earth worms to help get rid of it.
But it's not all bad mojo for ol' Zakaara here. I'm my own troll now. No longer do I have to take orders from da Prophet. No longer do I have to lick da feet of da mogu kings and warbringers. No longer do I have to watch as my people turn from respected and intelligent scholars to idiotic and bloodthirsty warmongers. Perhaps I'll treat myself to a crunchy beetle to celebrate.
Friday 15th
I didn't have da best nights of sleep last night. I get da feeling dat da mushroom didn't sit well with me. Either dat or somethin' else gave me dese nightmares. Da Loa taunt me, quip at me, make me beg dem for forgiveness. Dey threaten me with da promise of a slow and painful death. It does not matter anymore, though. I only know it is a dream to make me restless. I know dat da gods cannot reach me in dis world. And yet, I am restless. Maybe it was da earth worms dat didn't sit well with me instead.
I had to spend da day tryin' to scavange whatever food and water I could find. It's always da same, though-- creepy crawlies and rainwater. Weird, though, dat it hasn't rained since a few nights ago and yet dere is still puddles of it around me. I guess da weather be on my side today. With any luck, da weather will be on my side for da next few days. Ah, who am I kiddin'. Ol' Zakaara here never has good luck.
But I guess I could call da voices a bit of good luck. I heard a voice today-- and not da one in my head, either-- of a young girl. A strong accent on dis one, too. I heard her call out a name; "Zecora". In my ignorance-- and probably in my longing for someone to talk to-- I thought dat he had called out my name. Zecora. Zakaara. Dey both sound da same, especially when ya hear dat strong accent. And i thought a troll's accent was heavy. didn't get to hear much else, though. I guess da girl stopped yelling.
It's been runnin' through my mind for da last few hours dat I should go and find a way outta dis ridiculous place. Every day I been livin' off of insects, dirty rainwater and fungi dat ya couldn't even convince a brain dead ogre to try with his roasted hog. A small voice in da back of my head keeps telling me, "what're ya waitin' for, Zakaara? Just head in one direction and ya bound to find da edge of da forest. Ya do dat, mon, and ya home free." But den I start to think about what I would do when I do leave da forest. I'm only jumpin' from one zone of discomfort to da next without even getting used to da first. I just gotta bide my time for a while. Get used to dis place. Make it my comfort zone.
Monday 18th
I be sorry for da lack of an update, journal. It's only by da grace of swift remembrance dat I can recall how many days have passed since da last time I had written an entry. Oh, what would I do without ya, journal, and you, pen?
I have learned dat I am not da only monster livin' in dis here forest. I see creatures dat I have not seen before and yet feel something familiar about dem. Dey breathe a breath of horribleness to which I could only compare to da stench of a gron. Dey appear as wolves, only made of timber, bark and leaves. Dere howl pierces through da branches and into da sky, alerting those far and away of dere presence. Dey were not much of a threat to ol' Zakaara here. Or so I thought.
It seems dat whatever magic I had back on Azeroth does not work here. I called to da elements, but none replied. I asked da spirits of da winds to grant me da swiftness of da currents; dey did not answer. I pleaded da spirits of fire to grant me da ferocity of da inferno; dey did not answer. I begged da spirits of water to protect me with da flow of da crashing sea; dey did not answer. It seemed dat it was not just da Loa who had forsaken me.
I did da only thing I could do. I ran, ran as fast as I could through da trees, through da bushes, ducking and diving and rolling through whatever stood before me. I guess dem wolf creatures not be as smart as I had thought dey were; I had managed to lose dem after a good distance by hidin' inside a small cave under a large oak tree. Even now I can scarcely believe dat my powers, my magic, does not work in dis world. I began to think dat dere were simply no spirits here to commune with, or dat da spirits did not get to know me yet, dat I perhaps had to prove myself to dem before dey would lend me deir powers. Doesn't matter to ol Zaakara here, though. He's got all da time in da world.
Tuesday 19th
I try speaking with da spirits of dis world. No matter how much I try I cannot get dem to respond to me. I try to offer whatever little food I had managed to find today; it did notthing. I try to offer my services, to pledge my devotion in deir name; I get no response. I even managed to find a little rabbit and sacrifice it in hopes dat it would please da spirits; not so much as a whisper in my ear. I decided dat it would not be me who would be forsaken. Oh, no. It would be me who will forsake da spirits. I don't need dem to give me power, to give me da tools to survive in this harsh wilderness. I got my own tools for dat.
I begin findin' all sorts of plants and flowers to help me in my research. It reminded me of da ol' days of my early works. I would help gather materials to help me and da other apothecaries discover and create new potions and poisons to use against our enemies. Aye, but dat was a long time ago. Dat was a time when we did dis to further our understandin'. Now it's a time to survive. And survival requires doin' everything at all costs whether dey be moral or not.
I found two plants dat have caught my mind. Da first has a dark indigo stem with a lighter shade of petals. Da second one be a long, orange vine dat feels brittle to da touch and yet bends like any other. Dis first flower is very volatile and from what I can work out produces a random ailment on a person. Even as I speak I find my voice growing quieter and quieter, and yet when I give it to a little birdie its wings shrink to half deir normal size. Dese afflictions are not harmful by any means. But dat is where da vine comes in.
Da vine is a potent cure for somethin' but I have yet to discover it, but I can feel it. I cut a piece off and placed it on my tongue. Like most other plants I have tasted dat has some beneficial effects, it has a bitter yet sweet taste. It pierces da back of ya throat like a naga pepper. But I find somethin' more interestin' about dis vine. Very faint and yet so clear to me is da taste of death. It does nothin' to ol' Zakaara but I know dere is something in da vine dat I can use to create a poison if I use its extracts along with da flower's. I'd better get some sleep before I go further with dis experiment. No sense in riskin' poisoning myself because of a shaky hand, mon.
Friday 22nd
It been a few days, journal, but I had trouble with findin' myself a test subject. Thankfully one of dem timber wolves decided he'd pick ol' Zakaara here as its next meal. Aye, but Zakaara was more den ready for it. I decided to keep with me some of da extract from da purple flower and coat it on my dagger. I thought dat maybe it could help incapacitate whatever I needed to hunt. It's very good at dat job. Funny to see it work, too.
Da poison seemed to cause da wolf's joints to lock into place. I couldn't let da opportunity slip through my fingers, and so I knocked da creature unconscious with a little stomp to da head. Brutal, yet effective. I quickly drag her back to da cave for experimentation. I think some of dat troll brutality started to flare up in me; whenever I look into da eyes of da wolf, I see only confusion and fear. I always liked dat look when a captive begins to regret messin' with a troll. But you gotta make sure to carve it into deir brains. Preferably with somethin' sharp.
So I use dis new concoction on da wolf. A poison of two parts flower and one part vine. It was den dat I begin to understand what da vine does. While da flower produces a random affliction, da vine causes it to linger longer and enhance da effects; da wolf's jaw also locked up as did its back and tail. I could hear its soft, muffled whimperin' as it tried to get free of da vines I tied around it. I decided it was best to let da beast go after da effects wore off. I let it go and sow da seeds of fear as it tells its kin of my existence.
Ah, I almost forgot. I also heard da young girl's voice again today. She called out da name "Zecora" again. She say she brought her da ingredients she needed. I get da feeling dat, whoever dis Zecora is, she is another alchemist like me. Da voice was much louder and clearer, too. I guess wherever I am now is much closer to Zecora den I was before. I thought it be a good idea to keep goin' in da same direction until I can come across dis Zecora. But I must leave ya be for a time, journal. Ol' Zakaara needs to get his things ready, to make sure dem wolves learn to fear Zakaara.
Saturday 23rd
It take Zakaara some time to get from one part of da forest to da other, but I found something dat caught my eyes as I noticed it through da shrubbery. I find a hut that was still well-kept as though someone was still livin' dere. I had da feelin' dat dis is where dis "Zecora" person lived. I began to feel a bit nervous and, probably, shy, too. Oh how da mighty have fallen, so dey say. Several hours ago I was da bane of all creatures in dis forest as I hunted dem for food. Now I'm a timid little sand crawler who would rather slink back into da sea den to make a home on da beach.
I managed to muster up some of my courage to get out of da bushes. It felt awkward and yet was also a release of restraints. I spend most of my time prowlin' and hidin' within my surroundings dat it felt alien for me to be out in da open again. But I was dere, now. So, I cautiously approached da door and knocked thrice. At first I had heard nothin', so I press my ear to da door to try and hear anythin' inside, but I heard nothin'. Suddenly my face flung forward as da door opened. I couldn't believe what I saw.
"Knock on my door, do you?" da zebra spoke to me. I only wish I was makin' dis up. "You come to get the Voodoo?" Da zebra spoke to me in rhyme, spoke to me in riddles. "If it is potions you seek, then your situation is looking bleak." For a moment I stood dere in front of her. She kinda looked troll. She sounded troll. But she wasn't troll. She was a damn zebra. I thought for a moment da Loa cursed my vision until I placed a hand on her snout. Unfortunately, Zakaara got a few teeth marks in return.
I admit dat lookin' at her made me feel hungry. I could imagine her over a large camp fire. But I had no time to daydream when I could spend it askin' her questions. I ask her where I was and who she was. "Your memory must be one of the poorest," she replied to me. "Why, you're in the Everfree Forest. But I guess you are not the one to blame. Oh, and Zecora is my name." If I didn't not believe what I was seeing da first time I was definitely not believing it now. Not only was I talkin' to a zebra, but dis zebra was da Zecora I had heard of before. Things were certainly gettin' weird, even for ol' Zakaara.
I told her dat I wasn't dere to buy potions or any other of her mojo. I asked her on what world I was on. She stared at me like I hadn't a brain, let alone a memory. "You're not the brightest bulb, are ya?" she replied. I guess da concept of worlds and spirits were unknown to dis animal. I felt a bit better knowing that I knew something she didn't. "You're in the world of Equestria." I had not heard of such a place before as I have of Azeroth, Draenor, Argus and Xoroth. I guess dere is more to da cosmos den just whatever da Legion touches.
I thanked her before leavin' her to her things, but she called back to me. "I take it you are not from around here," she called to me. I turned to see her give a grin. "Why don't you come in and join me, my dear?" For a moment I felt some bad juju rising in da air, but I decided to to accept da offer despite my gut feeling. But when have I ever been known to make da logical choices? I followed her inside, and inside was like a dream. Dere were shelves and cases of tonics and potions. Ingredients of herbs and vines hung from da hooks above tables. I spent much time with da zebra, learning and knowing of all dese different recipes and materials used. It reminded me of da days when I was just an apprentice, minus da lashings for dropping a vial, of course.
I left da zebra after some hours. She was impressed with my experience as an alchemist but she expressed disdain dat my specialty was in poisons and venoms, though she was astounded as to how I managed to take down a "timberwolf" with da poison I had made yesterday. She even invited me back da following day, and even let me stay with her in her home. I was surprised dat she had been so inviting considering I was but a stranger up until some hours ago. Even my own hardened heart began to develop a soft spot for her, this "Zecora".
Sunday 24th
Zecora spoke to me today, asking me who I was and where I was from. "Da name's Zakaara," I said. "I come from a world not like yours-- Azeroth." At first she laughed at me. I didn't laugh. I didn't find anything humorous about being from another world. She soon stopped, though. I think she began to understand da seriousness of my words. "So you come from a world far off," she asked me, "this world of yours called "Azeroth"?" I felt embarrassed for a moment. What good could I tell her about it? I told her what I knew, dat it was a world filled with bloodshed, war and destruction at every possible turn. She didn't laugh.
She asked me about myself, "So you are a creature of old? A race by the name of "troll"?" I told her what I could, about how da Zandalari were da greatest of da troll empires. I told her how da brutish, aggressive of da Zandalari broke away and founded two new empires-- da Amani, and da Gurubashi. I told her how dey nearly destroyed da world by summoning da Soulflayer, Hakkar. I told her how da Zandalari tried to bring da many troll tribes together to "repopulate" Azeroth at da cost of bloodshed upon da other mortal races. I finally told her of da new allegiance between da Zandalari trolls and da mogu to retake Pandaria. I don't think she liked my stories. I don't think she began to like me.
"If what you say is true," she spoke to me after a long pause, "then from what troll tribe are you?" I guess da huge pause of silence we had before she spoke had to be proceeded with another. I didn't know what to say. So I said nothing. Rather, I said nothing for a moment. I told her dat my tribe did not matter to me anymore. I told her dat I would be stuck in dis world forever and dat I no longer had ties to my past life on Azeroth. She musta been wary of me, what with da look in her eyes as she gazed at me. I thought I'd relieve her of her worry. I told her dat it didn't matter what tribe I was from, because all of us trolls are bloodthirsty killers who only live to see our race raised higher den dat of da others. I never said I would relieve her in a good way.
She stood up from her seat. Her eyes still fixated upon me as she walked over to a large cauldron. I guess dat we were so caught up in conversation dat she had forgotten to take care of da brew. "My last question is not to raise laughter or titter," she spoke as she turned back to me, "but you must answer me this: are you another killer?" It was such a simple question to answer. But, I did not give one. I leaned forward towards her, but I said nothing. I finally managed to get some words outta my mouth after thinkin' for a moment. I told her dat I only did what da elders told me, be it research, gathering, or training new apprentices. But I told her dat whatever da trolls used to kill more den likely came from me. I think dat da answer I gave her was much worse den just saying "yes". She asked me to leave, regardless.
I thanked her. I thanked her for showing me her hospitality despite only knowing me for such a short time. I thanked her for da soft bed and da warm sheets dat she gave me for da night. And I thanked her for hearing what I had to say. I can't remember da last time I ever got to talk to someone like I did today. It was just unfortunate dat our first topic of conversation wasn't a more lighter one. Well, I guess I'd better find myself a place to lay my head for da night.
Friday 29th
I spoke to Zecora today. It had been a few days since I had last seen her, but she came upon me while I was fishin' in a river I had managed to find. I never knew how effective a makeshift fishin' rod could be. I always used to think dat ya needed a boat and a huge net to get ya daily intake. Oh, and I also found a new use for da earth worms.
"I appreciate you being honest with me." Zecora didn't sound as upset as I had believed she be. "I didn't understand how hard your life must have been." I asked her to sit with me, to come sit with ol' Zakaara. And she did to my surprise, I will admit. I told her dat my life wasn't a hard-lived one, dat I lived a fairly decent life. Well, dat I only lived a decent life before da mogu came. She recognized da name but couldn't recall what I had said. I told her dat dey were da people who da Zandalari trolls joined with to take Pandaria. I think she understood da meaning of my words.
I managed to catch myself a nice juicy bass with da stick for a fishing poll. Good thing, too-- da stick snapped as soon as I whipped da fish from da river. I'd never seen a fish so big before. I couldn't help but smile when I saw it. Zecora on da other hand, was a bit irate. I think it musta had somethin' to do with da bass landing on her head. We had a good chuckle about it. Well, when I say "we" I mean "I".
So, I told her again about myself. I thought dis time I should talk about somethin' better about myself. Da conversation lasted for about half a minute, I think. I told her about how I was once a keeper and recorder of troll history, passed down from scholar to scholar. She was quite interested, though I had already told her about da troll history da last time we spoke. Surprisingly, she asked me about my alchemy. I was shocked, of course. I reminded her how I specialized in potions and venoms. "Affliction and ailments to make, I know you could," she responded, "but have you ever tried making a potion of good?" After a moment's thought, I nodded. I told her how I discovered da use of various herbs in making potions and cures, be it a potion of haste, an ointment of invisibility, or a cure for scurvy. I think we were getting on da right track dis time.
She didn't stay for too long, though. She had somethin' to do with her potions, saying that she only came out to find more "jadegrass". But ol' Zakaara wasn't bein' fooled by anyone. I know dat no special grass grows by da riverbank. I also know dat dis jadegrass she's looking for can only be found near moss-covered rock. I thought I would tell her dis information, just to make her feel embarrassed. "You know your herbs well, my friend," she praised. "I just didn't want our first meeting to be the end." I think I was more surprised dat she would be more understanding of me den her being angry with me. In any case, I let her be on her way. She said I should come see her tomorrow, too. Not a date, I hope.
Saturday 30th
I decided to take up Zecora on her offer. I thought dat I might as well make a good impression, so I had a good wash in da river. I'd never felt so cleansed before. I thought maybe da water had some sort of special power, so I decided to take a sip of it. Indeed, it was powerful. But den I just realized dat it was just clean. I wonder when da last time I ever came across clean water was. For so long I was given leftover water dat da mogu had used to bathe and clean demselves. It felt good to wash myself in something dat didn't have bits of stone and dust floating around.
Even though I had met her before, I felt nervous again. I knew I would, and so I brought with me some herbs and plants as a gift for her. Again, I knocked. She answered much quicker den before, and answered with a smile. "Ah, Zakaara, how do you do?" she greeted, "I have been expecting you." I quickly offered her my gift or ingredients, to which she was grateful of. At least I think she was. She asked me to come in and to put dem on da table. I felt like we were getting off to a good second start.
I think dat I may have interrupted her, though. When I turned to look at her, I found her sitting, balancing on a small bamboo pole. I asked her if she was meditating and if I should come back later. "Stay inside. Outside, it is raining. Don't worry; I'm almost done with my training." I didn't even realize dat it was raining but, when I looked out da window, it was. I began to wonder if Zecora called da rain with her meditation or if she had some sort of clairvoyance. Or maybe she's a meteorologist. Ah, no sense in thinking about it too much. Thinking too much hurts my head.
We talked for a good few hours. In fact, I had asked her who da young girl was who kept callin' her name. "You mean little Apple Bloom?" she spoke. "That is the voice you heard, I assume." It definitely answered one question of mine, but I had to her ask her if da girl was another horse. Zecora's answer confirmed it for me. I think I'm beginning to understand dat dis world is filled with talking animals, and perhaps even ruled by dem. I didn't know what to think about it or even how to feel about it. I guess, in many respects, it was not too dissimilar from da Loa; instead of spirits, dey be living beings. Sometimes I begin to wonder when I will stop taking orders from beasts. Or anyone else for dat matter.
But I digress. Zecora had told me about how dis world was ruled by a monarchy of "alicorns"-- horned, winged ponies dat are born into royalty. She told me how Celestia, one of two princesses, who raises da sun, rules over Equestria alongside her younger sister, Princess Luna, who is also da princess who calls forth da night. I feel sorry for Luna, though. A bit difficult to be happy when your role is to call forth a domain where everybody is asleep. But I was very intrigued by Equestrian lore. I asked Zecora to tell me more.
From what she has told me, Equestria was founded over a thousand years ago when da tribes of da earth ponies, da unicorn ponies, and da pegasus ponies worked together to create this large, immense civilization. Sometimes I wonder dat, if da troll tribes reunited under a single banner of harmony, like da ponies have done, if we could grow to become a great civilization once again. But that'll never happen. Da tribes only know of fighting and killing. Even when deir tribes are on da brink of collapse it's da only thing dat goes through deir minds. Ah, Zakaara can dream, right?
Zecora helped give me a hand with some of da ingredients dat I had given her. She said dat she wanted to help me learn about dem, to teach me what properties dey have when used to make potions. Obviously she only taught me da good side of each of dem, but dat was fine by me. Perhaps I should start making cures and remedies. She showed me one plant-- "heart hibiscus"-- dat could be used in a potion dat helps a person find deir true love. I guess dat meant I had no use for it. Quickly, I began to take all of dis knowledge in as she explained it to me.
I couldn't leave her today without a proper thanks. I decided to help make a potion using da purple flower-- poison joke-- and da vine I had first found. Zecora said I should stir da mixture with a phoenix feather, which she had plenty of; it apparently makes da potion last longer. It was done within da hour, fortunately. I took a bottle full of it and den rubbed a handful of poison joke into my skin. It was a success; I had created a potion dat granted immunity to da poison joke's affliction, but for how long I did not now.. I wanted to give it as a gift to her for all da help and kindness she had given ol' Zakaara, but she already had a few bottles. She was still impressed with my work, though.
I felt happy today. I've never felt like this in many years. I felt something roll down my cheek. I felt a tear run across my face as I blinked. Ah, Zakaara can't remember da last time he had shed a tear of joy.
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The viewpoint character is writing in a journal. I highly doubt that he would write with an accent.
2430040 I did ask around beforehand and I was told that it didn't matter. I guess I'd better recall this and change the words around.
When I be readin' this story, mon, I be tinkin' how good it is.
I don't mind da fact that it be written in an accent. It still be a good story, an' it leaves me wonderin' if dere be romance in da air for dese two.
2430334 I'm glad you like it. I just feel a bit annoyed and embarrassed that people have said that this would be acceptable, when... well, it clearly isn't
Not bad. A shame that it's a one-shot, though. Will we be seeing anymore of Zakaara in later stories? He's likable enough (in my opinion), and I'm somewhat interested in what he'll do from this point on.
2432242 Thank ya. And yeah, he'll be showing up later down the line.
2432281 Keep the accent! Not only does it remind us that the main character is a member of a shamanistic/spiritual race (for those who play WoW), but it also reinforces the natural connection that he has with Zecora, as they are both rather mysteriously wise/knowledgeable through means not unsimilar to voodoo, and both have their own unique speaking styles. Not only that, I be likin' de wey me bruddahs talk mon, nice and relaxed, ya kno'? Dat's my two cents mon.
2474936 Sorry for the long-waited reply. Thanks for the vote of confidence, and I will be keeping the accent in tact. Though that's mainly because this story doesn't get many views anyway =/
Spirits be wit ya, mon.
I like that it's written in accent, it reminds you it's a troll even when he's not blatantly making mention of his race. You missed a rhyme once on Zecora, though -
"I appreciate you being honest with me." Zecora didn't sound as upset as I had believed she be. "I didn't understand how hard your life must have been."
Could have been -
"I appreciate you being honest with me." Zecora didn't sound as upset as I had believed she be. "I didn't understand how hard your life could be."
Or such. Just a minor thing but it does break immersion a bit to lose her rhyme. Otherwise I like it ;3
2590238 Well it kinda rhymes. It just has an 'n' on the end of it
But thanks for the live and the fave and stuff. Good to see this story's still being read
Awesome!
2894720 hehe, thanks
2590238 Just think that "Been" is pronounced as "Bean" is what I do.
3878317 Is that not how it's normally pronounced? Or is that an American thing?
3879974 I dunno where it came from, all I know is that I heard it in Fellowship of the Ring with Samwise Gamgee lamenting that he couldn't go on, for if he stepped any further: it'd be "the farthest from home he's ever been".
This was a good story, for an orc anyways
7312619 Troll. He's a troll. =3
>7312832 I mean to an orc, but either way it was really great.
Dis was good.