I walked into the firelight, my leathers worn with wear from the 6 months of journeying in the wilds. Tala looked up and raised a questioning eyebrow at my haggard and ragged state. With a bellow of triumph that brought all the villagers out of their tents, I summoned my pet to my side. The hushed awe from the assembled Tauren that followed the appearance of Shard, my newfound companion, was worth the toll of the last few months.
I had lost Rover, my faithful wolf stalker of 5 seasons, in a campaign against to the marauding quillboar in the Barrens. Blasted pigs!!! They had been more cunning and numerous then I had anticipated, and it had only been through Rover’s self-sacrifice that I had managed to escape with my hide intact. I was morose for days after, languishing in self-pity at my lack of judgment that had cost my faithful pet his life.
Then I caught wind of a tale, a tale about an animal, stronger and more ferocious then any animal seen in the plains. Where … and what … was this animal, I had asked? The few stories I heard seemed to be more fable and myth then truth. Some claimed it had been seen it in the north of Kalimdor, others in the central part of the Eastern Kingdoms. All of them, however, attested to its ferocity and strength, and the fact that it was as white as newly fallen snow.
I traced the source of these stories as best could, moving from storyteller to storyteller, seeking clues to the whereabouts of this seemingly mythical creature. One other clue that seemed to be common in many of the stories was the fact that the animal seemed to in constant conflict with short, mountain men. It struck me that these were not men at all but dwarves, which led to the logical deduction that the bear was to be found wherever these dwarves were. This information proved to be easier to find, which led me on my journey to find the lofty peaks of Dun Morogh.
The trek had taken many weeks, through many treacherous lands – the lawless Arathi Highlands, where camps of men, known as the Syndicate, held sway; the swampy Wetlands, with waterways filled with swamp demons; and finally, through several cleverly conceived tunnels through the mountains (controlled by dwarves, but contested by renegade Orcs), to the snowy highlands, known as Dun Morogh.
Difficult as the journey was to get here, my skill at tracking and evasion to avoid the numerous patrols in Dun Morogh was stretched to its limit. Trudging through the snow that frequently came up to my waist, I cursed the cold … a cold so intense it penetrated my fur-lined leathers, chilling me to the bone. After many weeks of foraging off the land, tracking the animals of these mountains, I longed for the warm, humid, rolling plains of Mulgore and wondered at the insanity that had led me here.
Even in this mountainous, snow-white terrain, there were many creatures, some, not unlike those found the plains – troggs, snow cats, wolves and even a snow-white rat-like creature that scampered among the tree roots. The cats and wolves were obviously not the creature of the stories – strong and fierce, like Rover of old, for sure, but nothing … special. I was beginning to think that I would have had more luck in trying to find the proverbial needle in the haystack, when fate took a hand in my search.
I was being chased by a dwarven patrol, which chanced upon me as I stumbled, unglamorously, down a slope. I managed to wound one of them before running away, but that left 2 others hot on my heals, on terrain they knew better then me. Heedless of where I was going, I had charged down a valley, rolling as I fell over some loose rocks … and came face to face with a white … something. All I could see at this point were what seemed to be an endless row of teeth. Fortunately for me, the dwarves, in the haste to capture me, also barreled down the slope, right into the creature before me. The fight that ensued was short and furious – the 3 dwarves (the third had limped his way to join the fight) now lay dead in the snow; but the cost to the creature was not trivial. The creature … the bear, as I came to realise … had one eye blinded by blood oozing freely from a deep gash on the left ear, its right fore leg was bent awry, crushed by a dwarven hammer.
I quickly brought my training stick to bear (pun intended) on the creature. In the contest of wills that ensued, uncertainty gripped me. Even so wounded, it was clear to me that the bear’s physical strength, and more surprisingly the underlying intelligence, was formidable. Would my will be able strong enough to tame it? The struggle, which seemed to last for hours, sapped both our resources to the limit. Even as my strength began to fade, it occurred to me that this creature, alone in this desolate landscape, had probably never encountered anything but conflict and strife. It would rather have died than be subdued. This inherent strength was what I was looking for in my companion, and yet … here I was trying to break the very spirit that made it unique. Breaking off our contest for a moment, but still wary of its strength, I did what would have been unthinkable … I cast a healing spell on the bear. The bear paused as the spell took hold, the bleeding from it numerous wounds stopped – the leg would require more work, but what I had essentially done was putting MY life in the hands … well, paws … of the beast.
Exhausted, I moved to the side and knelt in the snow, offering the bear a clear path to freedom, and the opportunity to disembowel me in the process. Curious at the turn of events, it paused, uncertainty evident in its stance. Moving slowly, I extended my arms, allowing it to sniff me and get used to my smell and presence. Encouraged by its aquiescence, I reached out and gently stroked its muzzle, and eventually, its head. Reaching for the pouch on my belt, I took a piece of meat prepared specially for this purpose, and hand fed it to the bear.
Acceptance!!!
Our bond of friendship took longer than normal to develop and strengthen fully, but then again, home, and the celebration that certainly awaited my return, was many weeks away.
