Some can only save themselves (Lyranne's condition)

((Set the same night after the meeting between Gul'Zayne, Gando and Jimar to discuss how they were going to help Lyranne.))

Jimar slid back into his hut a little after dark, his mind racing with what the spirits were trying to tell him. He threw his travelling cloak onto the floor and knelt down next to his pipe, lighting a flame.
Gul’Zayne and Gando had been right. Perhaps there was someone in Lyranne’s past that has crossed over, and with a little preparation, he could maybe contact them. He puffed on the water pipe deep in thought, the strong smell of shimmerweed quickly filled the room. Only problem is who…
Jimar looked up at his grim little collection of animal bone totems, Voodoo masks and shrunken heads hanging off the wall. He took another puff.
For the first time in Jimar’s life, the spirits did not respond to his request. In fact they retreated when Jimar asked about Lyranne’s condition in Sen’jin village. A small puff of smoke floated up to the ceiling from Jimar’s mouth as he shook his head slowly.
Had they abandoned her?
“No” Jimar said allowed. “No way.”
He stood up, the effect of the weed slowly blurring his vision and dulling his senses. He was ready.
He lifted the oldest looking mask off of the wall and looked at it in his hands. He had not seen this mask being used since his mentor died all those years ago. He sighed at the memory, a lump forming in his throat. There was only one more thing he could do. Slowly he lifted the mask to his face and tied the straps around his head. He looked around as a gentle breeze entered his hut, he smiled welcoming the invisible force.
He started to dance around the flame setup in the middle of his hut. He danced and chanted, the tiny bones on his ankle bracelet dangling on each footfall. The shakers in his hands rattled away as each step took him further into the spirit world. The howl of a wolf sounded and Jimar slowed knowing he stood between realms. He stared into the dark and the great Loa himself stared back.
His face resembled the mask Jimar wore. His long teeth like a cat seemed to extend down the length of his long chin and his eyes, his terrifying eyes watched Jimar’s every move as he began to dance around the fire on the opposite side. Jimar continued his ritual and danced more vigorously shaking and chanting. Remembering the words so well from watching his mentor perform the same ritual before he passed away. Jimar shook his head and the tiny rat skulls flung side by side knocking into the back of his neck and against the wood of the mask, he jumped and landed in front of the Loa, his hands flat on the ground, he eyes diverted down in respect.
“Mueh'zala…” Jimar whispered in Troll.
“I, a mortal not worthy, come to ask for your guidance.”
The Loa said nothing as it’s long arm’s continued to wave to the sound of the shakers and the drumming of feet. Jimar turned round and saw his physical form still performing the ritual, completely lost in its dance, the huge terrifying mask he wore almost reaching down to his knees.
“I come on behalf of a poor soul, she is lost.” He said.
The Loa still danced, it’s upper body and arms swaying. It had no legs, only the thin spiritual wisp that seemed to spring from nothing and gradually lengthen into a being from the floor up. It seemed to be watching Jimar on the floor as if listening intently to his story.
“We ask for your guidance and wisdom, oh great one.”
The Loa then spoke. Not words but images.
The Image of Jimar’s Tutor flashed into his mind, as if Mueh'zala recognised the young troll to be the pupil of the old witch doctor.
Jimar shook his head.
“No great one. I am not he. You have already taken him.”
The Loa moved his head from side to side, as another image of Jimar and his tutor entered his head. Not one from Jimar’s memory but as if the Loa was passing it’s own memories into Jimar’s mind. He saw himself as a youngster rolling around in agony and throwing up the contents of his stomach. His tutor was standing over him shouting about addictions and bad substances.
“I do not understand, great one. These are of me. What of the soul of which I speak.”
The Loa said nothing and continued to sway, it’s long arms rising way above it’s head as it danced. Another image entered Jimar’s head.
He smiled as he instantly recognised the young elf, watching the scene calmly and with a sudden understanding. They weren’t so different after all.
The loa started to recede into the dark and Jimar lowered his head even further as it disappeared. Jimar fell to his knees suddenly a bit displaced and out of breath. He removed the mask from his face and wiped the thick layer of sweat off of his brow.
“I be needin’ a drink afta dat.” He said.

((Everyone feel free to post if you wish to contribute to the story.))

Ryleen sat down with her back against the wall, looking up at the beautiful Outland night sky. She felt tired, drained, after spending the entire evening smiling, laughing and playing little games with Dey and Lyranne. But at least the elf was safe here. Who knows what could have happened if she had wandered off home on her own?

The Mag'har orcs were as kind and helpful as always. They had not objected at all when she had explained that she needed to borrow the house she'd been living in again. They had all sounded so symphathetic when she had explained what had happened to her friend, why she needed to be taken care of. This was a good place, the little elf was safe here. Tomorrow she would see if it was possible to have her help with daily chores such as looking after the orphans or cooking.

For a second, the thought of things staying like this forever flashes in her mind. She would do it, if it was needed. She wouldn't even hesitate. But it was not what she wanted. Gando would probably object to having the elf living with them too, but that didn't matter.

She still called her sister. Despite seeming to have forgotten everything else, the elf still called her sister. Of course she would help her, be it for a few days or forever.

(( Hmm, I forgot you didn't know about a few events that have transpired with Lyranne, and I don't have the eloquence or writing skill to do it as a story entry. So I shall post here in a sec, just as soon as I copy paste my wall of text somewhere. Also, Ry's entry has me crying, so apologies if this seems a little sentimental. Note, I'm too lazy to go and calculate the ages, so i'll just put them in human years. ))

Deyyania skipped about, dancing with Lyranne and talking to her as though they'd always been together. She kept going up to her big sister and smiling brightly, cuddling her and clearly care-free.

Eventually, after running rings around the campfire, she sat and spoke to Lyranne.

"What's that, Lyranne? You say you've been here. Wow, you've travelled so far! I'm so glad Jimar gave you to me. He's the nicest man I've ever met. Chowlawu? No, I've never heard of him, is he nice? Oh, he's troubled... That's a pity... Maybe we can cheer him up!" She got up, and quickly ran over to a bag, rummaging through and getting changed.
"I dunno where I got that armour, but it was awful heavy." She shrugged, clearly not overly concerned, and began to play with a few items that were lying in the bag.
"So, Lyranne, how old are you? 19? Okay. Me? Oh, I'm 8!" She giggled and smiled and hugged Lyranne tightly. "Yeah, I think Ryleen's the bestest sister in the world! And all the trolls are so nice and kind. Sis says that my Doctor should be listened to, and so I'll take really good care of you, 'cause I wouldn't want to make Jimar sad. He did seem a bit sad, didn't he? Yeah, and sis. I dunno why they're worried about me though. 'cause I'm vulnerable? I'm not! I'm a strong girl, and I'll prove it." She picked up a pebble, and threw it hard, enough that upon hitting a tree, it took a chunk out of the bark.
"See? Yeah, I told you. No, you can't be weaker than me, you're soo much older. No, I don't mean old old, like I mean um... Just older, that's all. Oh you!" Deyyania giggles "I'm not gullable... Am I? Um... What's it mean? Ohh... Oh, well... maybe I am... A little." She giggles again and hugs Lyranne close to her chest, swaying side to side. "Oh? You said you loved her earlier, but I didn't think you meant like love love her. But she doesn't feel the same? That's a pity. No, I won't tell her, don't worry. Me? I dunno... I've never thought about it. Um, I guess boys are okay, if a bit yucky, but um." Deyyania blushes. "Um, so where you from? Oh? I'm from there too! oh that's great!"
She hugs Lyranne again, and starts to yawn, she walks over to Ryleen, sits at her side, and cuddles her. She yawns again a few times, and starts to drift off to sleep.

((This is mostly for the benefit of Jimar and anyone else who wants to know how Lyranne/Deyy is feeling.))

Deyy had, after several weeks become almost inseperable from Lyranne. She took her everywhere, and prevented any harm coming to the stuffed bear. But Deyy is also feeling restless. So much has been happening, and she keeps being told that it's adult matters and that she need not worry about what they're talking about. Needless to say, this is the one thing she cannot do.

"They keep telling me not to worry, Lyranne, but I can't help it. Yeah, I know I should trust them, and I do, too, but still. You? Of course I trust you, silly! But I just don't know what's happening. I don't see anyone around as much as I did, and I miss everyone so much."

When she speaks to Lyranne, she is mildly reassured, but something in the back of Deyy's mind tells her something must be wrong. She's had many people confused her with Lyranne, which puzzles her no end, plus she was given medicine by Jimar just a few nights ago.

"Lyranne, why did he give me these potions? What? Really? But I don't feel ill in any way. I'm perfectly okay, honest. I mean, I get a headache sometimes, and feel abit, um... Not very tired. Also, why do people still seem to think I look like you? Huh? You did look like me, but don't anymore. Okay, I thnk I know what you mean."

She was afraid, and only took it because she trusts Jimar, Ryleen, and Gando. But she doesn't know why she had to take the potion, nor what effects it will have on her. having taken the first potion in front of Jimar, she was left with the one to take before bedtime.

"I dunno what this stuff's s'posed to do, but I don't like it, Lyranne. I'm scared! Yeah, I know I told you I trust them and you, but I'm still scared. I feel a bit sick, and this stuff burns a bit, and I just don't wanna take it! Why do you want me to take it so much? Fine, I'll take it!"

Lyranne took the potion, and gagged. There was a lot, and she was surprised by how strong a flavour it had. She was sick for a few hours, and broke out in a cold sweat. The next morning, she was so dry, that she drank as much water as she could, which made her feel a different kind of sick. As the day went on, her health improved, and she was back to being her playful self, but one thought pervaded throughout the day: Should she tell Jimar, Ryleen, and Gando, or should she say that she took it and everything was fine. She was scared. Maybe the medicine was supposed to make her sick. For a moment, she felt an unfamiliar feeling of hate, and immense distrust. That people would want to hurt her, and that she was in danger. She spoke to Lyranne, who again reassured her that it was all okay. Deyy cried, and spent alot of the day alone.

Later, she met up with Liontooth and Stargaazer, and as she was speaking to them, she felt the frustration of being 'just a child'. They both headed off to defend the Bluff, and she was left alone again. Upon their return, she was glad they were both safe, and that they had dealt with the threat.

However, this peaceful moment did not last. A male Blood Elf, from the House of Sylvanas appeared, and started to speak to Lion. Eventually, Hinun, Chowlawu, Silver, and a few others appeared, and the House member retreated. It was after this, with Deyy looking confused and afraid, that Star told her that there was the strong possibility that the greywolf Tribe and the House of Sylvanas could go to war against each other - A civil war. This did nothing to ease her worry, and she felt helpless and frustrated.

Now, she feels confused about so much, and even Lyranne is telling her little. They're both in the dark about these events (And neither even really know about Ryleen's trial), and that part of Deyy that senses something's amiss, is growing ever more scared that there is an ominous cloud over the horizon.

Thanks for that Lyranne.