Master alpha/beta tester extraordinaire.

After arriving in Stranglethorn and finding his hut there broken into, Papa and Mooshki tracked down the witch doctor responsible for the tiki who’s curse struck the Drakkari. After finding and fighting the witch doctor and his zombie guardian the curse was finally broken in his death. Questions remained unanswered, but even words can be gathered in death.

"Khan, ya made yaself right at home in dat Zandalari’s camp didn’t ya? So now ah come askin’ ah’gain. An dis time ya got no choice but ta ansa. Who call ya on ta come afta Papa? How many more gonna give ‘im trouble while him here?" Papa had been wondering how many more trolls would give he and his companion trouble, and for that he needed to know who and why the witch doctor had attacked them.

The spirit stayed silent for a long time choosing not to speak. Papa grasped at nothing, pulling his fisted hand back toward himself. The spirits face winced as though in pain but finally spoke. “Der be no others after ya Zul’Sowdi. I was workin’ for my own.”

Papa narrowed his eyes both at the formal title and disbelief that it might only be Zul’Khan that had interest in him. “Dis be tha truth spirit?” He watched the specter nod. “Questions Mooshki?”

Mooshki nodded, keeping her hand on the spear. “I only be havin one, mon. It be about dese markins.”

Papa nodded his head a eyed the spirit once more. “Fa yaself?” He asked for clarification. “Ya took many women from deh Skullsplitter tribe Zul’Sowdi, and ya made it almost impossible to track it back ta you. But ah found ‘er body, an ah found dah splintered table washed in enough blood ta track it back ta ya hut. Den all ah ‘ad ta do was wait. Dat was my woman…Sowdi, mine dat-“

Papa snorted and cut off anything else the spirit was going to say. “Dah trollies markin’s from deh curse, dey go away?”

"Ah don’t know dah answer, ya not new ta dis spell, do ya not know yaself?"

"Ya be dead now mon, ya can find deh ansa. Dun be lyin ta Papa."

A long silence fell across the hut before the spirit finally responded once more. “Dey fade in time, but dey will remain. If ‘er been ah jungle troll deh furs would cova it. But deh swirls be der faeva markin’ ‘ow close ta death she come.”

Mooshki listened to the spirit’s answers to Papa’s question. She eyed the living witchdoctor carefully until her attention was drawn back to the spirit who now answered her question. Mooshki hissed and bared her tusks at the spirit before suddenly turning the scowl into a cruel grin. She held up a squealing mini raptor. “Yah fed de beasties well, Zul’Khan. And fah dat, dey t’ank ya. I hope ya felt dey teet’ and claws before ya died.”

"Dah spell weren’t meant fa ya. Ya just became dah victim. Be careful w’at company ya be keepin little trollie. Deh blood dah lead me ‘ere belonged ta ya Docta’s old apprentice w’en him used ‘er as a sacr-"

"We be done ‘ere mon." Papa stood up and stomped the rock and sand circle before the spirit could say anymore. The spirit disappeared with a cruel laughter ringing in the air. He jerked up the shrunken head spitting curses under his breath. Witch doctors were wiley things even when they were just captive spirits.

Mooshki looked back at Papa, slowly rising to stand as he stomped on the words of the dead. She raised and leveled the blade of the spear to point at Papa’s chest. “Dere be a storeh here ya don’t want ta be tellin, mon.” She shrugged her marked shoulder to catch his attention to it. “And I be marked fah it. I suggest ya be tellin de whole storeh from de start and ya not be leavin t’ings out.” Her voice is calm but very much serious.

Papa turned looking down at the spear she held pointed at him. “Ah t’ink ya auta be puttin’ dat away mon,” he answered with a dark, warning tone. He shifted turning to face her fully in the stand off.

Author Mosur
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