The Lost Ones

[Razaron]

The Lost Ones

Many years had passed since the meeting of Pavon and Razaron in the Swamp of Sorrows and the world around them had changed. The first and second wars on Azeroth had both ended and the Horde had been rounded up and captured. Rumours circulated that the Bleeding Hollow clan had avoided capture from the Alliance and retreated through the dark portal and the land around the monstrous structure had dried up and died. It was once a vibrant part of the Black Morass but not anymore, now it was known as the Blasted Lands. Razaron had heard the tales of his clan but he didn't want anything to do with them, not as they were, the only thing that mattered to him now was to live a life free from the fel. Pavon was a dear friend to Razaron and educated him on the matters of the fel, now he knew the name of the poison that took his father and his people to their darkest hour. Razaron and the rest of the Broken were also on good terms, their relationship was mostly based around trade. He would bring the Harborage exotic ingredients and potions, being a Bleeding Hollow it was common for orcs of his clan to be versed in herbalism and alchemy. In return Razaron would always pick out the same thing, a beautiful bottle of draenic wine. The broken had offered him some for the first time years ago and since then he had been hooked, for Razaron it wasn't just the taste but the overwhelming sensation of peace that came with drinking it.

Razaron had just finished exchanging supplies with the broken and sat down next to Pavon who was warming himself by a burning fire, "Wine again child? Careful you'll become addicted!" Pavon chuckled twirling his stubbly fingers through his tentacled like beard. Razaron was already drinking his prize, "What can I say? I've never tasted something so good!" As he patted Pavon on the shoulder before staring in to the fire. Razaron was thinking of home and his people, often they would gather around a great fire and socialize. It was an area of great importance to his clan, retelling tales of the past, celebrating great kills or just being together as a family. Now they were gone, only Neska to keep him company and a alien race of Broken to talk too. "You look lost Razaron the Insane, what troubles you?" Pavon said concerned about his friend. "Lost? I suppose you're right. I am new to this world and I’ve struggled to adapt without my clan." Razaron replied as he flicked some dirt in to the fire from under his long nails. "You're not entirely lost, just look at my kin? We are broken and lost contact with the light. But through our mutation  we survive!" Razaron looked confused, "The Light? You mean the sun?" Pavon shook his head, "No child, the light resides in every living being, in every heart and soul, even yours!" Pavon pointing towards Razaron's chest continuing, "It binds us together as one! Even after what your people did to mine I did not strike you down, do you know why?" Razaron looked a little puzzled. "Because you were different, the light never spoke to me but I saw a beacon of hope in you and hope is all we have!" Pavon paused and threw another log on to the fire then gestured in to a darker area of the swamp, "But over there in to the darkness are some of my kin that are entirely lost. We call them the Lost Ones, they have devolved in to nothing but primitive creatures." Pavon then stared in to his friends eyes, "You are not fully lost my friend, not like them. Be encouraged by that thought!" Razaron nodded and sat up a little taller, Pavon had ignited a small flame in his heart.

The night drew on as more Broken joined Pavon and Razaron by the fire, "So, people having been telling me stories Razaron." A smirk raised on Pavon’s face, Razaron looked around the fire and all the broken were staring at him. "Stories?" Razaron replied. "Yes, they've seen you in the swamp! They're intrigued at how you go about hunting your prey!" Pavon lent forward, his hand to his chin. "They tell me that your form is like nothing they have ever seen before!" Razaron gulped a little, "You've been spying on me?" Pavon shook his head with a laugh, "A strange orc that dwells in our swamp and hunts near the Harborage, of course we have!" Retorted Pavon who was now nodding. Razaron immediately got defensive, "Zug, I have my own methods, I learned many moons ago of a unique style of fighting from my grandmother, the Matron. I'm not ashamed of.." Razaron was interrupted, "Do not think I'm mocking you child, we're all amazed at your prowess!" The Broken all started to nod in unison agreeing. "In fact those that haven't witnessed your dancing don't believe it to be true!" Pavon said poking Razaron with his stave. "Then I will prove the doubters wrong!" Replied Razaron jumping to his feet! That night Razaron and the broken would be merry and dance to the early hours of the morning.