The Desperation of Taluuk

((Post-Cataclysm Story))
Taluuk could hear the sad, haunting tones of music outside the hut. His villagers were blowing into their hollow horns and tapping their drums. The soft melodies had been soothing the village all week, a means of cushioning the numerous blows that had beset the Tauren people as a whole. The High Chieftain was dead, now unable to guide his people through unforeseen and difficult times, the Orcs had a new and unpredictable leader, and the Cataclysm had lashed the land, inflicting great pain on all its inhabitants, be they Tauren, wildlife, or elemental. Taluuk knew it would be easy to indulge his emotions let the tears flow to the sound of his people’s mourning, but through sheer willpower he kept himself together, patting his huge right hand against his chest, and swallowing down the taste of anguish coarsening his mouth. As the Elder of the village, he had to lead, and he was not going to be able to do that with eyes obscured by tears.
He could already feel the village going against him. Over the years leading his people, Taluuk had developed a sort of sixth sense. He didn’t have a name for it, but he could describe it perfectly: it was the ability to know and understand the consensus of the village. What he saw out in the streets and in the houses told him what the sixty or so people inhabiting the village were thinking. Were they happy, displeased, fearful, expectant, discontent? There had been few occasions when he wasn’t able to predict what was going on, and even fewer when he wasn’t able to do something about it to keep the village happy and safe. It wasn’t achieved by any magical means, but rather those two central tenants of the Tauren philosophy: wisdom and understanding.
So he knew that the music easing its way into his home’s canvas walls was a product not just of mourning, but of yearning, too. There was one part of the village, a more youthful and determined part, that was preparing to do something that he considered very brave but ultimately very foolish. He knew it was on their minds - how could it not be - but he also knew that it was likely to attract more sorrow to the a village that already had too much to deal with.
To prevent this, he had called for the presence of a young druid called Yahi. Taluuk knew that Yahi was restless and keen to act in some way to banish the uncertainty that hung over the village. He had an urge to do something. But he was also dependable, and respectfully listened to the advice of his older kinsmen. If he could be discouraged, the others could be too...
But as Yahi stepped into the hut, gently pushing the kodoskin door to one side, Taluuk was hit by a feeling of futility. Yahi had already chosen his future, and he wasn’t going to be swayed. The hard truths of reality hit him hard and fast: next to the upheaval of the world, next to the death of Cairne, next to the raping of Stonetalon, the Barrens, and the Thousand Needles, his words were now a relic of the past. Still, he pressed on, because Taluuk loved his village so. He stood up from his chair basket, and bowed to the younger druid.
‘Yahi. How is th-’
‘Taurajo has been destroyed, Elder,’ Yahi said. His voice was course and unsettled.
‘What?’ Taluuk asked, taken aback. He stammered, and in his mind he damned himself for showing such surprise and vulnerability to someone already confused enough. ‘When? How did you hear?’
‘Yuuv and I saw refugees on the eastern road. We ran over to see what the matter was. It’s the Alliance, Elder. They’ve torn it asunder. It’s in ruins now.’
The young Tauren was animated with anxious movement. He was gravely upset; his face was pale and his druidic staff shook with uncontrollable anguish, the hand holding it overwhelmed with fright. Taluuk carefully wrested it out of his grasp and held him by the shoulders.
‘Thunder Bluff will treat the survivors well, Yahi. You needn’t worry. There’s enough room in Mulgore to house them all. As a village, we need to stick to our woodworking heritage; we helped create the Great Lifts of Mulgore and Thousand Needles. Now that Taurajo is gone, we will also be asked to help erect defences, yes? That should be on your mind.’
Yahi didn’t respond. He stood in the hands of his Elder, and concentrated on calming himself down. Through his thick fringe, Taluuk could see a distant gaze. He needed to quell it.
‘So much has happened recently,’ he continued. ‘I feel your pain, Yahi. I’ve walked the Earthmother’s roads and paths four times longer than you have. I have lived in this village for fifty years, and when these troubles die down, I will still be here. And you must too.’
‘I can’t, Elder,’ Yahi protested, staying true to what he planned to do. Even emotional like this, his youthful determination couldn’t be diverted. The others, most of whom were more independent of thought than him, would have been even tougher. ‘We owe it to the Earthmother. She cries out to us.’
‘Not to us, Yahi. To the world. She wants it all to stop. You can’t add to that. You mustn’t. What you do with the rest will endanger you all. No one in the village wants that. We’ve gone through too much suffering to have you leave us too.’
‘But we’re fit and healthy,’ said Yahi, pulling away now from his tutor’s paternal hold. He swallowed deeply, pausing for breath and clarity. He paid the room they were in a wide look. ‘We won’t be gone forever. Only for as long as we have to be. Elder, my heart is here, you know it is. But what happens out of Mulgore affects all of Mulgore now, not just Thunder Bluff. How many sightings of quilboar have we had in the past week? The centaur will come soon.’
‘And all the more need for you to stay, Yahi. The village needs its defenders.’
Yahi hesitated at this, but it only took him a few seconds to shake his head. ‘Best if they don’t come at all, Elder. And that’s what we’ll do. I promise you. This isn’t for us. This is for the village. This isn’t because we’re curious about the world; it’s because we’re afraid of it. But we need the courage. We’re going to venture out, and go down all the roads. To fight back the fiends and the bandits and the opportunists.’
The horns outside continued to whistle sorrow. An aching part of Taluuk considered them the death rites of Yahi and the others. ‘I am so proud of your courage, my child. But remember what happened to the Four Brothers. We have never heard of them again. The world swallowed them. We still miss them. Don’t dampen our hearts more, Yahi. Your mother and father won’t be able to cope with it.’
‘My mother and father will allow me the choice, Elder.’
‘As do I,’ said Taluuk, His head tilted downwards. It was inevitable now. ‘I just watch out for my village. There is nothing I care about more. Every single one of you that march into the unknown... I know the story of your lives. I don’t need a totem for that. I just need my head and memories. Saying goodbye to you all, and letting the world claw you into submission... it will be very hard for me to do that.’
‘It is very hard for us to leave. And we haven’t forced anyone to. Some of the children have said they want to come too. We haven’t let them. Look on the bright side, Elder: there will be less bawdy songs around the campfire now.’ Yahi finished in a feigned smile, which the older Tauren did not return.
‘And who will take on the burden of leading you?’
‘No one. We’ll make decisions as a group,’ said Yahi. He kept his eyes on his tutor’s elderly form, as if suspecting that he could collapse with grief at any of the quiet moments that passed. Finally, he said: “We’re taking a totem-pole with us. We’re going to decorate it with paintings of our journey.’
Taluuk raised his head up and smiled in a sad, sad way. ‘The village has raised you well, Yahi. But you know that one day all conflict will end, and we’ll be able to walk the world without fear, then. That day might come soon. Why not wait?’
It was his last, desperate attempt. It was a legend in the village that the Earthmother had trialled the patience of the Shu’Halo by making vast portions of the world uninhabitable. One day, conflict and strife could come to a natural end, and the Tauren would then be able to settle anywhere in the world they wanted. Today, that legend seemed shallow and morbidly untrue.
Yahi didn’t show amusement at such an absurd concept. Instead he patted Taluuk on the shoulder. ‘The Earthmother will reward you greatly at the end of your days, Elder. I love you.’
‘I love you too, Yahi. I will have the village give your journey the best possible start. We will make sure you go with enough food, and covered in armour, holding the best weapons we can make. And a kodo. You’ll need a kodo.’ Taluuk started to move around the hut, examining all corners, with the air of a man who only knew how warfare worked through tales and fables. Yahi watched him with a fierce pride, happy now that the person so integral to his upbringing was now on his side. And then Taluuk stopped, abruptly. ‘You mentioned Yuuv, my granddaughter. Is she going too?’
Yahi nodded. He saw a flicker of desperation in the Elder’s eyes, before he resumed busying around the room. ‘She wanted to,’ he said, trying his best to reassure.
Taluuk battered the words away. ‘There is no need to explain, Yahi. No need. I just did not think she would. You have made your case. You will do your village proud. And perhaps you will find the Four Brothers...’ he added, with a sort of uncertain edge to his voice, as if he wasn’t sure if thinking it possible was healthy at all.
‘We’ll do our best to find them,’ said Yahi, but the unspoken message was that this was very unlikely. They had been gone for years.
Taluuk nodded, and quickly changed the subject. ‘Well, you best tell the rest of the upstarts that I give my blessing, then. There will be a bonfire tonight, and I’ll announce it to the whole village. You should tell your parents beforehand, yes?’
‘So they don’t get a shock?’ asked Yahi.
‘Exactly. May the Earthmother guide you, my child.’
When Yahi left, Taluuk waited. One by one, over a period of ten minutes, the horns of the village died down.
It was then that Taluuk finally allowed himself to cry.
Category:Story