Tough Changes

[Patsee]

Three days before the Troll Wars...

It all began in the woods of the Eversong Forest. The sun was at it's setting and the forest was lit up in bright orange. Outside the city gates of Silvermoon, A young high elf boy was watching his mother leartherwork on clothing from Jaggedtooth pelts his father caught along the bench. He thought her stitching was a neat pattern and knew that no type of clothing he could buy in the city would be anything like her artwork. He did miss his father though when he was off on his hunts. Though he usually likes to hunt animals, sometimes he sees a bounty opprotunity and would have no hesitation to go after the culprit if it was to feed his family. He was usually back in no more than three days, but it has been five since he left.

"Mom, I can't help but be worried. He's been gone a long time."

His mother lifted her head and her blue eyes matched her son's "It won't be long. I know your father and he's strong enough to look after himself."

The young elf looked up at the city gates and pictures what it's like in there. He thought if he was old enough, he could be the one getting the bounty hunter and let dad have his breaks. "When am I going to be old enough to help dad out?"

His mother gasped, but then calmed herself down. And from the expression on her face, she is sad.

"Mom....whats wrong?"

His mother wiped her eyes and shook off her sadness to tell him. "I guess I'm just shocked at realized how fast you really are growing up. You're actually not that far from reaching your maturity age."

(to be continued... I've got work)

[Patsee]

"So you're saying I won't have to stay in camp anymore?" The young elf said with eagarness and hope.

Her mother nodded. "Yes Voc'Zaco. You're nearly 15 (in elf years) so you'll be able to hunt." Although she was smileing, her heart was growing heavy. She didn't want to let him now that he is also old enough to join the Silvermoon army and fight against the Amaini. He was still so young.

Voc'Zaco's heart leapt. Finally he would no longer be stuck at camp outside the city and learning how to leatherwork on clothing. He would finally learn how to hunt food and skin the pelts to make the leather. All there was left to do is wait until his father came back. That is if he does come back.
He knew of thoes green trolls that also live outside the city. Voc'Zaco was always creeped out on knowing their ways of cannablism. After hearing the stories of the battles against these trolls at the formation of Quel'Thalas, he was relieved that as of lately, they remained in Tor'Watha. Then the thought hit him.
"What if dad got ambushed by thoes trolls?" he asked with concern. His mother shook her head.
"Don't be silly, son. Your father is highly skilled and is master of camoflauge. Thoes trolls wouldn't track him down if they had the senses of a wolves."
That did relieve Voc'Zaco at the thought of the trolls, but he was still worried where his father was. That is until he saw a figure moving over the horizon.
A tall High Elf made his way along the stone path through the forest. His long brown hair hanged rested on his shoulders while his blue eyes shone like the blue sky itself. His clothing wasn't anything fancy, only a white shirt was exposed from the sleeves underneath his leather vest and well designed trousers. Over his shoulder, he held a sack which looked pretty heavy for a young man like Voc'Zaco, but not for the High Elf who approached both mother and child.
"Father!" Voc'Zaco jumped up and ran to the High Elf, jumping for a hug not realizing he caught his father off guard and they both fell to the gound. Both of them laughed as they were on the ground.
The mother held her hand over her mouth to hide her giggle. This was somthing she was use to for a long time. "Athaniar, it's good to see you back."
Athaniar lifted himself up and patted all the dust off of his clothing. Comming up to his wife for an embrace, he kissed her on the cheek. "It's good to be back, Its going to be a while before we worry about our money troubles. We have enough gold to last us for many sunrise and sets." They held each other for about three minutes while kissing. It was proof enough on how much he missed his family. They would have kept going if Voc'Zaco wasn't pestering them.
"If you would take a moment to quit grossing me out, I'm trying to ask you, dad, if I'm really old enough to hunt now, is that true?"
Athaniar smiled and gave his son a pat on the head, "Yes it is true. And tomorrow we will go out for the hunt. For now, I'm ready to head back to camp and rest."

___________________________________________________________________________

(To be continued once I figure out a plot on how to make this story get interesting.)

[Patsee]

The next day, Voc'Zaco was up bright and early, gathering all the hunting equipment he could find. His father, Athaniar, was in shock when he spotted his son finished stocking everingthing before he even woke up. "Couldn't wait that long, hmm?"

Voc'Zaco laughed. "Ha, nope. Not a chance, you told me we're hunting and you gave your word."

"Alright, well let me get my bow and We'll be off."

Within the Eversong, Both high elves, father and son, Along with Athaniar's Dragonhawk, Firewing, they searched for anything that would be suitable for food. Lynxes were a primary hunt. For their pelts were nice and thick to make clothing, Thier bones would make suitable weapons, and their meat is well worth the cook.
Athaniar would tell his son the stories of back in the war when Azeroth battled against the Burning Legion's first invasion, his grandfather learned the way the Tauren have lived and, unlike the other Highbourn elves, was able to get along with them. The Tauren he worked with were impressed by his hunting skills aswell as his fighting skills. Since then, he's lived outside of civilization and passes his hunting tactics down his famly line.

Voc'Zaco had to ask. "Dad, how come we live outside in tents while everyone else lives in the city?"

Athaniar placed a hand on his son's shoulder. "We live out here because unlike the other elves that live in the city, I'm not going to live as a soldier and be a pawn in wars to come. And I'm not going to risk my son getting killed when he has a life ahead of him. And living outside the city is more peaceful with a wonderous scenery." He described as he pointed out the yellow orange and red leaves over every tree underneath an orange sky from sunrise.

Suddenly, they both spotted somthing along the path towards Tor'Watha. A young healthy Springpaw Lynx male was having himself a meal from a rabbit. Athaniar whispered to Voc'Zaco
"This one is your shot, let's see how much practise pays off." He said confidently. Voc'Zaco held up his bow and pulled back on the string, using a razer sharp end of an arrow, he aimed right for the Lynx's neck. After a good couple of seconds aiming, He was just about ready to shoot when all of a sudden, he heard the Lynx roar in pain. Lowering his bow, the sight he saw was the Lynx crying with a spear right through his ribs comming out on both ends. The cry of pain was followed by a loud cry. Before Voc'Zaco could blink, Athaniar grabbed his son and ran the opposite direction.

Voc'Zaco was about to ask what are they running from when suddenly, he saw them. Comming out of the trees were tall green forest trolls. Almost as if the forest came to life, five trolls jumped over the lynx, beating it with axes and stabbing it with spears. Voc'Zaco was use to watching his father cripple a hunt and end it's misery with a snap to the neck, not beating it till there was nothing left.

"Dad, what are the-"

"Amani Trolls, They haven't been fond with Elves since we came here. Keep Running!"

Although it was too late. Unaware that as they made their retreat, they were being spotted by at least two of the Amani Trolls.

[Chonat]

Very good storytelling Shade, now I get to see your character's past.

[Patsee]

(Thats pretty much the point of this story, and thanks. I was hoping it sounded good)

Athaniar, Voc'Zaco, and Firewing fled their way as fast as they could away from the forest trolls. Athaniar knew that the number of trolls back there would end up slaughtering not just a Lynx, but his current hunting party aswell. They kept on running until they've reached Farstrider Retreat. The closest place of civilization that had guards.

"I think we lost them son..." He panted catching his breath.

Vo'Zaco caught his and spoke. "Dad, I knew what thoes trolls were. What I was going to as is what are they doing so close to the mountainside. I thought Tor'Watha was some distance away."

"They have to hunt to, and there are plenty to hunt here."

Voc'Zaco had a sudden chill run up his spine. Their campground home was on the other side of the mountain. If the Amani Trolls decided they wanted to climb or go around the mountains, they would have no hesitation on ravaging it.

Voc'Zaco wasted no time and ran for the campground. Firewing sqwacked at his master and turned to give chase.

Athaniar shouted, "Voc'Zaco Dawnstrider! I'm not letting you go back alone!"

Running back as fast as they could, Athaniar and Voc'Zaco hoped and pray that their fears weren't true. But upon their arrival, the sight told them they were wrong.
Tents were up in ablaze, Forest trolls left and right stealing everything from the camp. Some were even snickering as they fled with the gold that Athaniar worked hard for being absent. But the worse sight of all was when he saw his wife falling backwards out of the tent she slept in and a huge Amani towered over her, lifting up his huge axe.

Athaniar instantly charged, hoping to have enough time to save her. But it was to late, for with absolute brute force, the troll impaled his axe through the elf's head, splitting her skull instantly. Now the charging turned into a bloody rage. Unseathing his sword, he lashed at the troll left and right. He seperated the arm that didn't hold the Axe, but that was his error. The troll swung his arm around and planted the axe right into Athaniar's back. He turned to see his son shocked and stunned in horror as several trolls surround him.

They will not kill my son! With a burst of energy, Athaniar charged his way to the group of trolls and hurled himself as a human catapolt to knock the trolls down like bowling pins. Looking up to his son as he held them down he screamed. "Get out of here!"

Voc'Zaco hesitated. "Dad, I can't lea-"

"GET OUT OF HERE! I'M NOT GOING TO TELL YOU AGAIN! GO!"

Wasting no time, he turned and ran, not even daring himself to turn around. He heard the screech of his father's dragonhawk, Firewing, in the cry of death as he fell. Voc'Zaco was lucky enough he didn't turn around. For his father, doing his best to keep the trolls from chasing the last of his family, was impaled by a spear through his neck. Wheezing at the pain with difficult breathing, Athaniar looked up and saw the troll that killed his wife and paid the price for losing an arm. He spat blood up in it's face, which the enraged troll responded by swinging his axe, aiming for his neck to separate it from his head, having his final thought.

Voc'Zaco, I hope you find your way to safty and stay alive. Goodbye my son, your mother and I will be watching over you.