Suluun of Argus

In the beginning, Suluun had been a young, headstrong woman of Mac’Aree, bitterly dissatisfied with her life as an anchorite. Neither matters of the Light or the arcane interested her in the slightest-- she had always been one to solve problems with physicality over magic-- and as such no matter the venture she undertook she would always feel out of place.

One bright morning she passed a jed’hin match underway and paused to watch the fighters prepare and practice. Each of her brothers were present-- all thick-crested piles of muscle perfectly suited to the sport-- and they performed their stretches together while chatting and laughing idly. Suluun felt the bitter pang of enviousness deep in the pit of her stomach as she watched them-- for years she had begged their parents to allow her to try out too. But it was not to be. Jed’hin was a sport for the men of Argus, who should be strong and hardy. Suluun should undertake more graceful endeavours, her parents insisted, that would be better befitting a woman like her. It enraged her like nothing else as a child, and she set out to prove her parents wrong-- surely somewhere there had been a female jed’hin fighter?

She studied the sport’s history for all it was worth, but to no avail. There simply were no women in jed’hin, and the likelihood of Suluun becoming the first was so unlikely it was practically impossible. She had seen the men who competed-- they were huge and solid, even more so than most of their kind. Suluun, like most eredar women, was smaller and had no forehead crest to speak of.

And so she observed quietly, jealously, smiling and cheering her brothers on when they entered the ring despite the indignation she felt. The two eldest faced each other, with the older of the two taking victory, and then were followed by the middlemost brother against the youngest. The youngest won it, surprisingly, despite being significantly smaller than his opponent. Suluun clapped them on, quickly losing interest in the matches. The second youngest brother would be up next, likely against one of their neighbour’s sons.

However, the eredar that walked proudly into the ring to face her brother was not anyone Suluun recognised. He was of average height and bulk, with very pale skin and long brown hair knotted into a high ponytail. A smattering of freckles covered his nose and cheeks. He grinned mischievously up at her brother, and, feeling Suluun’s eyes on him, turned to give her a smile and a quick wink.

Perhaps he had been expecting her to blush or swoon, but the look Suluun returned was dark with fury. The young man gaped in surprise, distracting him sufficiently to miss the match’s start. Her brother made swift work of him, knocking their crests together hard and guiding his weight into more than enough momentum to fling the pale eredar from the ring in what was perhaps the shortest match of jed’hin Suluun had ever seen. It took everything she had not to laugh at the fool. The next match started in earnest, and by that stage Suluun had well and truly lost all interest in continuing to watch. She picked her way out of the crowd of spectators and made to leave when she spied the pale eredar hurrying towards her, looking perplexed.

   “Excuse me!” he called as he approached.

Suluun sighed. She was not in the mood for this. She rounded on the stranger and frowned, crossing her arms across her chest to make sure the oaf could made no mistake as to her current temperament. “If you expect me to apologise for you losing your match, I’d suggest you swallow your words along with your pride and remove yourself from my sight. I have little patience for men like you.”

The fellow almost recoiled in shock at her words, his confusion giving way to great concern. He raised his big hands defensively. “Oh, no, I would never say such a thing! You see, it is *me* who should be apologising. I did not mean any offence, I just... felt you staring at me and got the complete wrong idea. I’m very sorry, I hope you can forgive me.”

Suluun had to examine the man’s face very closely before she could be sure he was being sincere, and huffed crossly when she came to her conclusion. “Fine, I suppose you are forgiven. You should pay more attention in the ring, you know. Distraction is a weakness that has no place in sport. Oh, and your stance was appalling. I’d wager a leaping child would knock you off balance with such pitiful footwork.”

Surprisingly the man smiled and nodded, a little sheepish. “Ah, that bad was it? Then I must train hard to correct these mistakes. Thank you for your feedback, um... ?” he trailed off, gesturing vaguely at Suluun.

   “Suluun,” she said, keeping her eyes trained on his until he realised she was not going to shake his hand.

   “Thank you, Suluun!” he said with a big, wide smile. “I am R’hael. My family and I came to Mac’Aree only recently, and it seems I have much adjusting to do.”

   “Clearly,” Suluun muttered, but eventually dropped her standoffish pretence. It had been a while since she’d last had a pleasant conversation with someone, and now R’hael had explained himself a little she decided he was harmless and probably not the worst person to be talking to. “So what brought you and your family here?”

R’hael seemed excited at the question. “A number of reasons-- my mother to work more closely with the artificers and myself to study the Light and its mysteries. This might sound silly, but I have dreamed of becoming a Vindicator since I was a boy.”

   “A noble venture,” said Suluun. “And your dream is hardly as unlikely as mine. I’d always wanted to be a jed’hin fighter when I was a child. How quickly that ambition was killed, and now it seems I am cursed to watch my brothers succeed at a sport I could never compete in. Fate can be cruel, I have little patience for it.”

R’hael’s face fell at that. “Oh. That is deeply unfortunate, I’m very sorry to hear that.” He frowned a bit, hoping to find some way to solve Suluun’s plight but of course failing, for there were none. “Um... so, I take it from your robes that you are an anchorite of some sort?”

Suluun nodded. “It is dull work. I have no interest nor aptitude in the Light or the arcane. Had I more of a connection with the Light then perhaps I would be more interested in becoming a Vindicator as well. Physical combat brings me great joy, but my family are not so keen on the idea of their only daughter putting herself in harm’s way. Ridiculous, if you ask me.”

   “Very ridiculous!” R’hael echoed, looking nearly as indignant as Suluun felt. “They should let you fight-- I bet you would be wonderful at it.” He smiled broadly. “You have a fiery temperament-- that often makes for a skilled warrior. That’s what you should be, Suluun! A *warrior*. No need for all this Light to get in the way of a good, solid swing of the sword or axe.”

Suluun couldn’t help but chuckle. “An attractive idea to be sure. I like you, R’hael. You think like I do. That seems to be a rarity these days.”

R’hael’s white cheeks tinted blue. “Oh! Thank you, Suluun. I like you as well, you are very different from most eredar I know. Angrier, but in a good way. Perhaps, if you would be willing, we could see each other again soon? I have an axe I think would be balanced well for you, if you would like to visit and try it out!”

There was no consideration needed-- the mention of this axe had Suluun’s eyes glinting with interest. “I would be happy to. Perhaps we could meet at mine once the week is out? I live in Oronaar-- you should find it easily enough.”

\*\*\*

R’hael did in fact find Oronaar, and continued to find it again and again for many years. He and Suluun would meet almost daily for friendly sparring matches and a modified form of wrestling that suited both R’hael and Suluun’s physiologies a little better. The rules were flimsy and injuries to both parties were common, but more importantly than any of that; they enjoyed themselves.

Suluun went on to introduce R’hael to her parents and five brothers, while R’hael had the considerably less stressful task of introducing Suluun to his mother, who quickly took a liking to Suluun. The feeling was mutual, with Suluun vastly preferring R’hael’s eccentric and often downright strange mother. Suluun’s own family thought well enough of R’hael, though each of her brothers took great pleasure in giving the smaller man a lengthy “big brother” talk.

R’hael and Suluun were eventually wed and together had a daughter, who they named “Rhaelli” after much debate between them. They came to an agreement: any girls would be named after R’hael, and any boys Suluun. The little infant Rhaelli strongly resembled her father, which surprised Suluun. She had thought her own violet skin would have passed down to her children, as R’hael’s paler hue was not a tone she saw as often. But there could be no doubt as she held her pale-skinned, pale-haired child with little horns in the shape of downturned crescent moons.

Not long after Rhaelli’s birth, R’hael had finally attained his coveted Vindicator rank. Suluun had not touched a spelltome in years, so it was victories all around. Rhaelli grew into a quick-witted and kind young woman over the next few hundred years, demonstrating an incredible aptitude for the Light unusual for someone of her age. She established herself as a priestess, fitting perfectly into the idyllic eredar lifestyle.

Everything was perfect, until it wasn’t.

When Sargeras touched the minds of the Triumvirate, it was all anyone talked about. Most eredar were thrilled and eager to accept this mysterious creature’s gifts, and to tell the truth, Suluun herself felt tempted. It was not until Rhaelli burst in, her face pinched with fear, that she felt something might be wrong.

Her daughter informed her that their leader Velen was having terrible doubts, and that the naaru themselves were unsettled. Though Suluun understood little of the Light, Rhaelli’s conviction in the Prophet’s words was proof enough to her. R’hael, too, was terrified of what might happen to their world.

They were right to be. On the day they fled they very nearly did not make it off of their doomed planet. Having heard of their plans to leave, Suluun’s brothers hunted them down like ravenous beasts, their once lustrous violet skin now a sick, livid red. Their eyes burned with green light, both oppressively afire and staunchly cold all at once. They terrified Suluun now, these demons that were once her family.

Had it not been for R’hael’s mother, they would not have survived. The elder artificer held the attackers off, using every device in her handmade arsenal to buy time for those she loved so dearly. It worked, and R’hael, Suluun and Rhaelli wept as they held each other aboard the Genedar. The Prophet and the naaru they had saved offered their assurances, but the reality was stark-- they were floating alone and lost in the magnificent emptiness of the Great Dark Beyond. There was no telling what horrors awaited them. Now exiles, the former eredar became the draenei.

\*\*\*

Many of the worlds the Genedar set down upon were traps. Demons awaited them in the shadows, allowing the draenei to settle in peace a moment and lull themselves into a careless security. It was then that they would strike, and their already dwindling numbers would suffer. Belongings would be hastily packed time and time again, their people rushing back to the Genedar to leave once more. It almost seemed as though no world was safe from the Burning Legion.

Life aboard the Genedar was not so bad, all things considered. As long as you did not think too hard about where you were, you could get by. That was how Suluun treated her predicament, at least. R’hael struggled at first, but found comfort in the company of the other Vindicators that had escaped Argus. He would often regale Suluun with the winding tales he had heard from Vindicator Baetuun, or engage in friendly debate with Vindicator Anaar over the true nature of the Light.

Rhaelli kept herself largely in the company of the naaru aboard the ship, spending most of her time with A’dal, whose gentle demeanour soothed her more than anyone else seemed to. She sought wisdom from Velen from time to time, but the Prophet himself was confused with grief and thus his answers often brought her more pain than ease.

How much time had passed, Suluun did not know, but when the Genedar set down on Draenor it felt as though several lifetimes had passed since it took off from Argus. She stepped out, axe in hand, with R’hael and Rhaelli close behind with the rest. The air smelled fresh and clean, and the wildlife was plentiful. The Burning Legion was nowhere to be found. Finally, they had found a new home.

The native races of Draenor were puzzled by their arrival, but as the years passed they grew to tolerate one another. One people, the orcs, went so far as to tentatively trade with the draenei so long as distance was maintained between them. This arrangement worked for them both.

The first time Suluun had seen an orc was several months after she moved to the recently-constructed Shattrath City. She saw a small group of them-- a little band of traders. They were strong-looking, with healthy builds and intelligent eyes. They were peddling furs and bone-carved tools and ornaments. Suluun had gone to investigate them, pointing curiously at a necklace of teeth.

   “Wolf’s teeth,” one of the orcs said, nodding. “From a *big* wolf. A challenge to kill.”

The trinket turned out to come at a high price that Suluun was unable to pay, but as she was bidding the traders goodbye R’hael appeared at her side, grinning playfully at the orcs.

   “My friends,” he said comfortably, surprisingly proficient in their tongue. “I’d like to make a bet. If the biggest of you can beat me in an arm wrestle, I will give you my favourite axe.” He paused to brandish the pretty weapon, earning interested murmurs from the orcs. “But if I win, you give the necklace to my wife. What do you say?”

The orcs were thrilled with that deal, and the burliest of them stepped forward. He was a mountain of a man, his brown skin crisscrossed with more scars than visible stars on the clearest night. He slammed his arm down eagerly, grinning around his tusks. Orcs loved to fight, Suluun knew, and they also loved competition. She admired that, and occasionally wondered if she’d have made a better orc in some alternate world.

It was a close match, but R’hael finally pushed the orc’s arm down with a great grunt of effort. The orc laughed and patted him on the shoulder, holding the necklace out. R’hael took it and passed it to Suluun, also digging out a handful of gems to pay the orc with all the same.

Suluun wore that necklace until the day she lost R’hael in the siege of Shattrath City. Things with the orcs had turned dire, with the Legion infusing them with fel magic and twisting their minds against their peaceful neighbours. The last stand at Shattrath would be bloody. It had to be if the orcs were to believe they had finally succeeded in wiping their race out. By this time, Suluun was in the early stages of pregnancy with her second child, a fact that likely saved her life. She was put among the other refugees selected for survival, and she fought with everything she had to safeguard her husband and daughter too. Rhaelli’s value as a priestess was deemed to important to allow to die, but R’hael was a familiar face to plenty of the orcs hammering at their doors. He would have to stay and die, a fact he accepted with surprising calm.

Suluun was anything but calm. She felt betrayed, and every part of her ached. The little child she carried within her now would never know their father thanks to their so-called Prophet. She cursed his name. He would never be forgiven for this.

As the orcs broke through the city’s defences, R’hael and another Vindicator hurried groups of refugees out through the tunnels to safety. It would be their last tasks before throwing themselves into battle to die and complete the illusion of a total Orcish victory. R’hael’s final group to escort was Suluun and Rhaelli’s, and tears stung his eyes as he rushed them along.

   “I love you both,” he kept saying. “And the little one-- make sure the little one knows I love them too.”

Suluun was choked with grief, words catching in her throat. She wanted to hold him, whisk him away with them away from this hell. Screams of the dying and wounded echoed through the tunnels, mingling with the orcs’ war-cries and the clanging of weapons.

There was a scream from behind them, frighteningly close. The Vindicator bringing up the rear gaped, staring down at the bone-tipped spear protruding from her chest. She gurgled a mouthful of blue blood and fell limp. The orc behind her ripped his spear free and roared in victory, a terrible smile on his face as he eyed up the unarmed draenei trying to flee.

R’hael snapped into action immediately, hefting his axe and shouting for those he guarded to run. There was another group further ahead, and if they could reach them they would be protected. The orc charged at him as he came, laughing as they clashed. R’hael’s axe bit into his shoulder, spraying blood across the walls. The orc threw his weight against him, almost knocking him off-balance. But his footwork had improved some since he was a jed’hin novice bumbling about in Mac’aree. R’hael stood strong, smacking his crested forehead into the orc’s face with a sickening crunch. The orc shrieked, dropping his spear to clutch his broken nose. Another swing of R’hael’s axe and he was dead, his head thudding to the ground with grim finality.

Suluun watched it all, deliberately lagging behind the other refugees to keep sight of her husband. She made a breathless sound of relief-- R’hael had done it, now he could come back to them and---

The tunnel wall beside him shattered. A large gronnling poked its head through, shaking stone dust from its eyes. Orcs poured in through the breach. R’hael was overrun.

Suluun hadn’t realised she was calling for him, screaming his name. Rhaelli took her hand and ran, beseeching the Light to grant her speed and safety. There was gold wind beneath their feet, and a glowing bubble shielded the small group as they ran. Suluun could barely feel anything. She caught a glimpse of R’hael’s face in the fray, twisted in pain and spattered with gore.

Their son was born on Azeroth, not long after the Exodar crashed to its surface. Suluun gave him the name “Haeluun”, and raised him on stories of his father. She told him each day how much R’hael loved him, how thrilled and proud he would be to see him. Haeluun listened, but she doubted the stories meant much to him.

The bone necklace R’hael bought for her lay untouched in a small box in her home-- no more than a campsite, really. She would not wear it. She could not bring herself to.

Rhaelli ventured into Outland, keen to purify the remains of Shattrath any way she could. Now a revered priestess of the Aldor, her presence brought comfort to the refugees now calling the ruined city their home. Suluun and Haeluun moved to join her eventually, finding the remains of their old house and rebuilding what they could.

Suluun walked the grounds of the Lower City, where she would still sometimes find the bones of her kin half-buried in the dust. She searched for any remnant of R’hael, and found nothing.