A Haunted Souvenir
Kazu'ran wakes up with a hangover after the Haunted Hootenanny with a vague recollection of animal adoptions...
It was a peaceful morning in Pandaria’s Jade Forest. The sun was high in the bright, cloudless blue sky, its precise colour one only seen during the Autumn months. The lush green of the forest extended beneath it, a vast expanse of activity and life. It was nearing midday, and while the hustle and bustle of village, town and monastery alike had been in full swing for several hours now, Kazu’ran was just beginning to stir.
The blue furred Troll had made a home in Pandaria some time ago. It was his house and workshop, the place he worked as an apothecary. It was where he tested his wide range of potions and brews, where his bats lived, and where he made a home for his son with his mates.
Kazu’ran groaned as he rolled onto his back. His mouth was as dry as a desert, and it felt like a Goblin mining crew had set to work in his skull. Experimentally, he cracked open an orange eye only to immediately squeeze it shut. Cursing quietly, he raised both hands to his face and rubbed at his eyes. His head was pounding and stomach was rolling. His body felt warm, sticky - he needed a shower.
Getting out of bed was its own challenge, and one no part of his body took kindly to. Feet planting on the floor, Kazu’ran elbows rested on his knees as he leaned forward, exhaling long and low. His ears wilted. The room was spinning. It was worse when he closed his eyes. He knew he’d feel better with food, water, and a shower but the temptation to roll right back into bed was high. Had one of his mates been there, he would have.
All the bed held was rumpled sheets and a crushed bingo card bearing Fence Macabre’s name, however, and so Kazu’ran reluctantly stood. His knuckles rubbed at his chest fur and the white bone pattern which marked him as one of Bwomsamdi’s devoted. The markings extended down his arms, back, legs and even his tail, as much a part of him as anything else.
He made only one stop before heading to the shower, uncorking one of his potion vials with his teeth, and downing the contents like a shot. He grimaced, tongue running over the inside of his mouth. Shower first, the rest could wait. At least with the potion his head was pounding less.
His clothes were discarded in a heap as he stepped under the hot water. As the warmth worked its way through his fur, Kazu’ran let out another long exhale. His chin dipped forward, water running down his face, and his tusks. The heat felt good on his muscles, and warmed him of the chill present in the Autumn air.
A short time later he was padding softly into the kitchen, a towel slung around his hips as he yawned wide. Water. Water, and coffee. Mumbling to himself, Kazu’ran filled the pot and set it on the stove. While it was warming, he slowly drank from his water glass. He knew he’d gotten back home via portal, but the last few hours of Fence Macabre’s Haunted Hootenanny were a bit… hazy.
The party had taken place at Vagrant’s Respite, Fence Macabre’s headquarters in Silverpine Forest. Samara had been working at the catering station, and Kazu’ran had stopped by numerous times. There had been pumpkin carving, a dance floor, fashion show, hog wrestling, sharp shooting, and even a haunted stagecoach ride. The evening certainly hadn’t lacked for things to do, and Ja’vyn had been with him for most of it. Those Undead sure knew how to throw a party.
Drinking the last of the water, Kazu’ran set the glass down in the sink and shuffled over to the stove. The pot was nearly boiling, and he took down a mug and ground coffee in preparation.
Fence Macabre knew how to throw a party, and Samara wasn’t the only one of its members he knew. Loira was part of the caravan as well. Kazu’ran didn’t have any trouble imagining Samara at a party, but Loira? Thinking of the Forsaken partying was enough to draw a low and amused chuckle from the Troll, head shaking slowly in time with his tail. She definitely wasn’t the partying sort, but she had been involved: her potion roulette station had been set up to run independently of her, and he remembered seeing her cat.
A frown was levelled at the mug as he carefully poured boiling water over the ground coffee beans. He hadn’t known the spectral creature was hers, and had just thought it particularly glare-inclined. The sign underneath where it was perched on the fence, however, had made clear not only who the cat belonged to, but that it was not available for…
Kazu’ran stared blankly at the wall in front of him. Adoption - the cat had not been available for adoption. The Haunted Hootenanny had included an enclosure with undead animals up for adoption, he remembered it now. It had been next to the barn. He’d found it after Ja’vyn had left, and after several more stops for drinks. Loira’s cat had stared at him with almost as much judgement as its owner. Slowly, Kazu’ran turned to face the entrance of his home, ears perked up and listening as he took a sip of fresh coffee.
Everything sounded… normal. There didn’t seem to be any new additions running around the house. But Kazu’ran knew himself. If there had been animals available, he would have wanted to leave with one. Wary now, he slowly made his way through the house, taking care to look under every table and on top of every cabinet. What if he left with one of the ghosts? Did ghost animals make noise? Was he going to find out what he’d brought back when it scared the bones out of him in the middle of the night?
It was a thorough search, and he found nothing. Kazu’ran wasn’t comforted by finding nothing, and the agitated flicks of his tail as he returned to the kitchen was proof of that. He’d need to look outside.
The towel was discarded for a pair of loose, comfortable robes. He wasn’t going anywhere, or expecting company. On his way out the door, Kazu’ran grabbed a cloak and tossed it over his shoulders for warmth. He had fur, but it was much less thick than everyone seemed to assume. The door clicked shut behind him as he peered around the front yard. There was nothing unusual there either. Maybe he hadn’t brought anything home?
Kazu’ran was deep in thought as he walked around the side of the house. It wasn’t like him not to be taken by cute animals. He’d left The Squeaky Wheel with a puppy once, only having officially adopted it for Iri having run into him while he was on his way out. Kazu’ran was so wrapped up in his head that didn’t quite notice what was in front of him at first.
He crouched suddenly, stunned. A hand raised to his mouth as he rubbed at his chin, orange eyes blinking slowly as he took in the new addition to his growing menagerie. Asleep in his yard was a skeletal devilsaur. Slowly, the hand at his mouth lifted to his hairline, scratching at his scalp. He had adopted an undead devilsaur. He had no idea how to take care of a regular devilsaur, nevermind an undead one. Faintly, a memory of Intamin and Gerlix suggesting he name it ‘Brick’ surfaced.
“Oh Loa…”
The creature didn’t have eyelids to crack open, but when the eye socket suddenly brightened with a glowing pinprick of white light, Kazu’ran fell back onto the ground. His eyes went wide as the creature slowly turned its face towards him, sniffing at the air between them. A devilsaur. He’d adopted an undead devilsaur.
It was a souvenir he was unlikely to ever forget.