Snicka's tale

Ol' Drei'jin was sitting by the campfire, in his tent, thinking deep, smoking a pipe filled with Shimmerweed. Six years have passed since he and his family had to flee from their home, and settled down here, on the Broken Isles. "Da fortune changes so easily" he thought. "One day, you be da chieftain, da other, you be da meal."
He was disturbed in his thoughts by a little troll. It was his grandson, Snicka, who seemed to be sobbing.
"Stop weepin' like an elf in da cookpot" grunted Drei'jin, " an' tell me wot hurt ya."
"It been Jintonick..." Snicka sobbed. "He teased me... he called me..."
"Wot did he call ye?" asked Drei'jin.
"Gree... green frog..." said Snicka, and he burst into tears. "Why are we green when all otha' trolls be blue? Daddy be blue, Jintonick be blue, even Sen'jin be blue..."
"Stop cryin', for Shadra's sake" snapped Drei'jin angrily, "or I will put ya head on a spear!" Then he calmed down a bit, and said: "We be green because we be bearin' Amani ancestry."
"Ama... wot?" Snicka was totally confused.
"Amani. Da Amani Trolls live far to da north from here" Drei'jin told him. "I be... at least, I been one of 'em."
"Really, gran'pa?" Snicka looked at his grandfather curiously. "Then wot we be doin' here? Why are we not in dat Fartodanorth?"
Drei'jin sighed. Snicka's question brought up painful memories.
"Snicka is too young yet, to hear my story" he thought. "One day, I'll tell him, ma'be, but not now."
"If ya ask too much, your tongue will stick to your tusk" he growled at the little troll. "Now go off, an' if Jintonick ever calls ya a green frog, jus' slap him on da face."

To be continued...

Snicka was sneaking silently through the village. It was late at night, most trolls went to bed already. Only a few watchers were walking around, but they did not notice the little troll, so he could make his way to the middle of the village. There, in front of the chieftain's hut, he stopped.
His bet with Jintonick, to steal a flask of mojo from under the nose of Sen'jin, now seemed an insane idea. A guard was standing by the hut's door, armed with a large spear. Snicka sneaked closer and closer to the window of the hut. He could hear the elderly Witch Doctor snoring inside. He hesitated for a while in front of the window, but suddenly, he heard steps. He could just manage to leap in through the window before the watcher arrived. He crouched there, inside the hut, and heard the watcher saying hello to the one guarding the door. He carefully looked around.
There was a fireplace in the middle of the hut, put out, but smoking. There were pillows made of animal fur around it. The walls were covered with scary-looking voodoo masks, spears and unidentifiable items. Sen'jin himself was sleeping on a tiger hide on the ground. Not far from him, by the wall, there were various bottles. They were what Snicka was looking for.
Step by step, Snicka made it to the bottles. One moment he thought Sen'jin will wake up, but the old troll only turned on his other side. Snicka lifted his arm to reach a flask, but the next moment he got a strange feeling. The voodoo mask above the flasks was staring at him. "Don' ya worry" Snicka thought. "It be jus' a mask, it cannot do anythin'." He quickly picked up the bottle.
The next moment many things happened at the same time. The eyes of the mask burst in green flames, and it let out a scream. Lightning struck from somewhere, and it hit Snicka. Sen'jin wake up, while the watcher by the door rushed inside the hut, and found Snicka stunned by Sen'jin's Stasis Trap.
The watcher caught Snicka by the ear, and dragged him to Sen'jin, who sat up on his bed. "Let me see, who it be..." muttered Sen'jin, and looked into Snicka's face. "Aha, da little half-breed. Son of Tsu'ku an' dat green wo'mon, Zaraya. Bring da little whelp back to dem, and tell 'em wot happened. Dey should decide on da punishment."

"Don't ya eva' dare to steal from da Witch Doctor!" screamed Zaraya, Snicka's mother, and slapped him on the face. "Wot will become of you?"
"A good Stalker, ma'be." said a deep, growling voice. Ol' Drei'jin looked at his grandson. "Listen, li'l mon. Dat been a shameful thing you did tonigh'. Da Witch Doctor be our good friend. Neva' steal from a friend." Snicka looked into his grandfather's green eyes, and felt very ashamed.
Later that night, while Snicka was sleeping in his bed, Drei'jin told Zaraya: "He could sneak inta Sen'jin's hut, unnoticed by da watchers? Zaraya, you should really consider teaching 'im to become a Stalker."

And that's how Snicka's career as a rogue started.

"So you want ya son to be one of da Stalkers, mon?" Shenthul asked Zaraya. He eyed Snicka up and down. "He be light, dat be good. Makes not much noise in Stealth. But does 'e have da Combat skills? Can he use a dagger?"
"I've stabbed me cousin wid dis not once!" Snicka said, and showed Shenthul a sharpened stick. Shenthul burst into laughter.
"Not bad, for a start. How old is he now?"
"Ten years, Shenthul."
"Excellent. Da best age to start trainin'."
After Snicka's mother left, Shenthul said Snicka: "Attack me." Snicka hesitated. "C'mon, attack me with ya dagger, don' be a bunny rabbit!" Snicka made an insecure move with his dagger towards Shenthul. He parried, and said: "Aaah, dis been no attack! Are you a murloc? Be angry, an' try to stab me." He poked Snicka on his stomach. "I stabbed you. Stab me back." Snicka stabbed more fiercely. Shenthul dodged the attack, and poked Snicka again. "Try to hit me." He teased Snicka on and on, until...
"Well done!" Shenthul said, and pulled the stick out of his forearm. He stood up. "You know why you could hit me?"
"Coz I kicked you in da leg, masta'?" said Snicka.
"Exactly. It been not a fair trick, but a Stalker is never fair wid his enemy. You gotta be..." Shenthul suddenly leaped behind Snicka, and grabbed his arm. "...unpredictable. Ya opponent must not know what you will do da next time."

Snicka spent four years under Shenthul's tutelage. He learned how to strike and dodge, hit and run, sneak and steal, until he became a real Stalker.

"Hey, Snicka, ya can't hide foreva'!" yelled Jintonick. "I know you in dem bushes somewhere!" He shot an arrow at the direction he thought his cousin is. Several scared birds flew off.
"I be da otha' way!" he heard a yell. Jintonick turned and shot an arrow again. "Da otha' otha' way!" Snicka yelled, and let out a laughter. He was learning Stalking for four years now, and he boasted to Jintonick that no one can find him while he's hiding.
Jintonick was about to go berserk. He chased his cousin for a long time now throught the forests of the islands, with no succes. He started learning from Beastmaster Jen'shan that year, and he was furious that Snicka's Stealth skills beat his Tracking.
He suddenly noticed someone moving beyond the bushes. It was about the same size as a premature troll, like Snicka. Without hesitation, he shot an arrow. "Gotcha!" he shouted.
The next moment he realized his mistake. The person he hit yelled some words in a language he has never heard before, and charged towards him. It was the strangest-looking person the young trolls have ever seen. He walked in a fully erect gait, like a woman; he was wearing strange clothes made of some shiny material. Only a few patches of his skin was revealed, and it seemed to be pink. He was wielding an weapon made of the same material as his clothes.
Jintonick howled in fear. Snicka watched the stranger attacking his cousin, horrified. He felt he must do something. He sneaked as close to the man as he can, and stabbed him in the back with his dagger. It didn't seem to harm the man at all - his armour protected him.
The footman turned at Snicka, and let out a yell. He hit with his weapon, which Snicka dodged. Jintonick was still standing there, stunned. Snicka heard some loud footsteps behind him, but did not turn. He was focusing on his opponent, attempting to dodge his strikes.
After few seconds that seemed to be a lifetime for Snicka, he heard a "TAZ DINGO" battlecry. Several savage Headhunters with battle paint on their face have arrived, and hurled their spears towards. One of them hit the man attacking Snicka, while others hit the two other footmen behind him. After a short but savage fight, all three strangers were lying on the ground, dead.

Back at Darkspear Village, the tribe's elders examined the corpse.
"Neva' seen such creatures before..." said Master Gardin. "Dey look like elves, but dey be stubbier and have hairy face."
"Dey might be pink orcs..." hinted Lar Prowltusk.
"You be a fool, Lar." growled Drei'jin. "Dey be humans, can't ya see?"
"Humans?" the other elders gasped at him.
"Ya mon, I fought many of dem during da War. Dey allied demselves wid 'e elves against us, Amani trolls. I wonder wot dey be doin' here."
"Dere might be more of 'em..." said Sen'jin. "Jen'shan, let your Trackers out to search da island for dem!" He turned to Snicka and Jintonick. "You two be lucky dat you survived da attack."

"Gran'pa..." said Snicka that evening, safe in their hut. "Ya said ya fought some of dese pinkskins?"
"Dat be right, Snicka. Take anotha' finger." Snicka and his family got a few pieces of the humans to cannibalize, because Snicka was among those who defeated them.
"When was dis War you mentioned?" Snicka asked curiously.
"Jus' a year before you been born" Drei'jin growled.
"Have you won it?"
"No, young mon. In fact we be here now because we lost da War." Drei'jin let out a deep, drawn-out sigh. "I been labelled as a traitor an' had to flee, for bein' faithful to Zul'jin."
"Zul'jin?" Snicka has never heard the name before.
"Yes, Snicka. Da great Amani Warlord. He believed dat we, troll tribes should not fight among each otha', but unite and become a formidable army. He visited all Warlords one by one, includin' me..."
"You been a Warlord, Gran'pa? You neva' told."
"You neva' asked." Drei'jin smiled. "I been da Warlord of da Witherbark tribe. We all agreed wid him on attackin' 'e villages 'round Quel'thalas, da elven city. Our firs' strikes been succesful, but den da Humans of Arathor helped da elves. Dey captured Zul'jin.
"Luckily, we got help from Orgrim Doomhammer, Warchief of da Orcs. He rescued Zul'jin, an' told us dat if we help 'em reach deir goals, dey will help us reach ours: reformin' da Amani Empire."
"Amani Empire?"
"Yes. Thousand years ago, before we been chased back into da forests of da Hinterlands an' Stranglethorn Vale by de elves, da trolls had two great empires: da Amani an' da Gurubashi."
"An' dese Orcs? Wot be dey like?"
"Short an' stubby people, dey be. Leaf-green skin, flamin' red eyes, tiny fangs. Dey been servin' some demon, so dey say. Zul'jin didn' like dat, so he first told Doomhammer dat he doesn' wanna ally wid dem. But since dey saved 'is life, 'e accepted da offer.
"But da Orcish Horde failed to defeat da Alliance of Humans, Elves an' Dwarves. Zul'jin disappeared, an' debates started among us dat we should help da Orcs to our last blood, or surrender an' abandon 'em. I said we should keep fightin', coz Zul'jin would want dat. Our Witch Doctor, Mai'jin, may Hakkar burn his soul, said we betta' surrender. Debate ended up in duel, an' he defeated me. I had no otha' choice but to flee before Mai'jin's followas kill me an' my family.
"Me, your gran'motha' an' motha' fled. Firs' we wanted to join otha' forest troll tribes, but dey all turned us down. In da end, we 'ad to flee south. A few weeks later we arrived to Dun Morogh. Mon, dat be a cold place! We asked for shelter from da Frostmane trolls, who let us spend a night in Frostmane Hold, but da next day da Gnomes of Gnomeregan attacked da Hold, an' killed a lot of us, includin' your gran'motha'.
"Me an' Zaraya moved on. We thought dat we migh' be more safe beyond da sea, so we stole a boat from Menethil Harbour. We faced a storm on da sea, an' found ourselves shipwrecked here. Fortunately, it been dis island, inhabited by da Darkspear. Your father, Tsu'ku found us, gave us food an' dry clothes, an' let us sleep in his hut.
"Next day we been introduced to Sen'jin. He listened to my story carefully, and then accepted us into his tribe. Since then, we live here, almost fifteen years from now.
"I think all trolls should be like Zul'jin an' Sen'jin... bein' helpful with fellow trolls, not regardin' us as separate tribes, but as one nation."
Drei'jin smiled at Snicka. "It be late at nigh' now. You had more than enough fight for today."

That night, Snicka dreamt of himself and his grandfather, fighting hundreds of humans by each other's side. He's also seen a huge green-skinned troll in his dream, hiding his face behind a blue scarf and wielding two large axes... Zul'jin.

It was a very stormy night. Snicka felt cold and wet. He was a Scout, and he was on a night watch, to alarm the citizens of Darkspear Village if the humans attack.
"Da humans can't be dat stupid dat dey strike dis nigh'" he growled. "No one would go out in dis storm... except for me."
He patrolled along the shorelines, seeing nothing but the stormy sea for hours. Once he saw a murloc crawling out of the water and running into the forest, this was the most interesting thing he saw. "Dis happens ev'ry day" he thought. "Dere be many murlocs in da sea."
He was relieved when dawn came. It was hard to tell if it was still day or night, because the strom darkened the sky. As he made a last look at the sea, he saw something, struggling with the waves. Was it a sea monster or a boat, he could not tell it from that distance; the rain blocked his sight.
"Pssst... heya, Snicka!" he heard a whisper. It was Jintonick, who was about to replace him. "Did ya see anythin'?"
"Nothin', Jin..." Snicka replied, "jus' dat thing ova' dere." He pointed at the things in the sea.
Jintonick focused on the spots. "Boats, dey be. A whole fleet o' boats, if ya ask me. Ya betta' report dat to Sen'jin."

"Ya mon..." said Sen'jin, in trance. "I can see... green people. Dey look strong an' savage. Dey be strugglin' wid da waves, unable to navigate deir boats. Dere be... a young warchief wid great powa' among 'em."
"Dey mus' be orcs" said Drei'jin. "But I be wonderin' wot dey be doin' 'ere, on our island."
"I mus' talk to 'em" said Sen'jin, breaking the trance. "If dey land on our island, dey migh' help us 'gainst de Humans."
"But Witch Doctor..." said Master Gardin, worried. "Wot if dey be worse than da humans?"
"You no need to fear da orcs, mon" said Drei'jin. "I fought on deir side at me homelands. It be safe to meet 'em."

Snicka had only a sneak peek at the strangers, who arrived to Darkspear Village early in the afternoon. It was still raining, so Sen'jin allowed the orcs come to his hut. They were exactly like Dre'jin described them to Snicka, except for the red eyes. There was a young one among them with long black hair, who seemed to be the leader. After an hour of discussion, the orcs set out with several Headhunters, to fight the humans. Snicka didn't join them; he was tired after the patrol, and he wanted nothing but to sleep on his comfortable tiger fur.

But he could not rest peacefully...

GHHHHWWWWAAAAAARRRRRGGGGHHHHHH!

Snicka was awaken by this horrible sound. A few seconds later, he heard Sen'jin shouting: "Those who can stand an' figh', grab ya weapons, an' defend yaselves an' da village from da filthy intruders!"
"It seems we can't be safe anywhere, Zaraya" Drei'jin told his daughter. "We gotta figh', like in Zul'jin's time."
"I wish Tsu'ku been 'ere..." Zaraya said, and picked up a peeling knife. The warriors were all away, fighting the humans; only the old, the young and the weak remained in the village.
"Is it da humans?" Snicka asked.
"I be afraid, it be somethin' worse than da humans" Drei'jin replied, and gave Snicka a skinning knife.
Snicka peered out of the window, and saw a horrible image. A horde of murlocs attacked Darkspear Village. It was total panic, some trolls were hiding in fear in their huts, while others were running around on the streets, chased by the slimy fish-men. A troll woman was throwing stones at a murloc, but two others leapt on her and dragged her away. A troll child, about six years younger than Snicka, was wrestling a murloc, which mangled his face. Sen'jin himself was waving with his staff, and spreading lightning bolts at any murloc he saw.
When a murloc ran close to the window, Snicka leapt through it, and ambushed the creature. It let out a ghwargh, and turned at Snicka. The ugly face with wide mouth grinned at him, revealing large grey teeth. The murloc snapped his teeth, attempting to bite Snicka.
The next moment, Drei'jin burst out of the hut, and throwed an axe at the creature, which hit it in the head. Snicka jumped on the dazed murloc, and cut its throat.
"Well d..." Drei'jin could not finish the sentence. From behind, not one, but three murlocs jumped on him. Six slimy hands pushed him down on the ground, three hungry mouths bit large parts out of his flesh.
"For Zul'jin!" Zaraya yelled, charged at the heap which was his father and the three murlocs. She stabbed the murlocs wherever she could, but they just kept mangling the elderly troll.
"Snicka, quick, look for a Witch Doctor!" Zaraya shouted at her son. The young troll ran around, but he saw nobody who could help; everyone was busy fighting the murlocs, who highly outnumbered the trolls. Some of them were lying on the ground, dead, while others were dragged away alive by the fish-creatures.
A murloc, finishing off his previous victim, glared at Snicka, let out a gwhaaaargggh, and charged at him. With a sudden idea, Snicka grabbed the edge of the roof of the closest hut, and pulled himself up there. The murloc grabbed his leg, but he kicked, and the creature released his leg. It stared up at Snicka, stood up on two legs, and grabbed the edge of the roof. Snicka stabbed the murloc's hand with his knife, and it let go. It gave up the attack, and ran off to fight another troll.
Snicka saw from the roof that the murlocs began to leave the village; they were dragging the half-conscious trolls into the forest, towards the sea. He slid down the roof in stealth, and sneaked back to his hut, between corpses of trolls and murlocs. He could not see his mother; she was possibly taken away by the murlocs. But there was his grandfather's body, in a terrible state; covered with bites, all four limbs ripped off. Snicka rushed to him, and looked into his face. He was unnoticable... but still alve.
"Snicka... Snicka..." he coughed.
"Gran'pa! I... I tried to get a witch doctor..." said Snicka.
"No witch doctor can save me now... dese murlocs got poisonous bite...."
He looked at Snicka with his one remaining eye, which was filled with tears.
"I migh' die... but da heritage, what Zul’jin left to us... dat will neva’ die. Finish wot he started, Snicka.... Find de trolls still... faithful to him, an’... form a guild of ’em. Let our people be one again... Long... live... da Heritage... of Zul’jin!” And these were his last words.
Snicka lift up the corpse, and carried him into the hut. His heart was filled with anger. He was angry at the murlocs for what they have done, angry at her mother for sending him away for a witch doctor, instead of letting him fight the murlocs, and angry at himself for not reporting the murloc he saw last night to Sen'jin. But his grandfather's words were ringing in his head, and he swore he will follow them.

Warchief Thrall rescued the murlocs' captives, including Snicka's mother. He could not save Sen'jin, who was sacrificed to the murlocs' spiritual leader, a sea witch. Sen'jin's son Vol'jin joined Thrall and fled the islands on the orcs' ships, before they were completely destroyed by the sea witch. The Darkspear Tribe found a new home in Durotar. Snicka followed Drei'jin's orders, he travelled through Azeroth and Kalimdor to research troll culture and history, and when he had the chance, he founded his guild. He had many adventures during his travels, but he never forgot his grandfather, the troll who believed that their race can be one people again.