Becoming the Hunter

A post/story from Pike about her Hunter finding the Raptor she'd set free so long ago prompted me to write this fictional piece about my own Hunter, a Dwarf named Kwazimoto, as he learns the basic skills of the Hunter class, then sets out to find the animal that would become his lifelong companion.

As in Kwazimoto and the Demon, I've used actual names and places from the World of Warcraft to create this story of how Kwazimoto became a Hunter.

* * *

The young Dwarf seemed proud of himself as he trotted up the hill towards Grif Wildheart. The old Hunter looked down at his latest student who, like many of those that had preceded him, now had an Ice Bear cub hot on his heels.

Although just a cub the Ice Bear was still big enough and strong enough to be capable of dispatching a young Dwarf, like the very one which led it to the old Hunter, but the dazed look in the bear’s eyes told Grif it didn't fully understand what had happened to it, or what compelled it to follow the young Hunter who, although half its size, had somehow bent it to his will.

In any Pack there can be only one Alpha, Grif mused to himself, although most folks will look at a pack and say, 'There's the Alpha Male, and his mate, the Alpha Female.' But truth is only one of them is the Alpha. If the Alpha is the Male then the Female is not a true Alpha, for like the rest of the pack she too must bow to the Male, and if the Female is the Alpha, then the Male must submit to her as does the rest of the pack.

Prior to sending his student out, Grif had passed on these words of wisdom: The secret to Taming a Beast is that in each pack there can be only one Alpha. You must challenge the Beast, and stand firm against its attacks. If you stand firm long enough then the Beast has no choice but to concede victory to you. But you must stand firm! The Beast must be made to see that its attacks are futile, for you are stronger, because you are Alpha.

With the dazed Ice Bear cub in tow Grif could see that this young Dwarf...What was his name again? Kawasaki? Kozimodo? Kwazimoto! That was it. This Kwazimoto (strange name for a Dwarf) he had what it took to be a Hunter. He was an Alpha, and the Ice Bear behind him was testament to that.

"Ye've done well, Kwazimoto," said Grif. "Ye've proved yer have a way with animals, and ye've tamed the three beasties just as I asked yer to. Yer well on yer way to becoming a Hunter, but afore you go rushing off, Taming Beast willy nilly, stop by Ironforge first. Ye'll be lookin' to speak to Belia Thundergranite. If she's not in the Military Ward, she'll probably be talking shop with Bretta Goldfury. Actually, it wouldn't hurt for ye to get to know Bretta, either. I've a feeling you'll be wanting to stop by and visit Ms. Goldfury most every time yer in Ironforge." Grif winked at the young and confused Dwarf, before continuing. "Very popular lady with the Hunters, she is. Now, off you go. NO! NOT YOU, YOUNG CUB!"

Grif's voice changed so suddenly, became so powerful, and so commanding, that Kwazi stopped dead in his tracks, as did the Ice Bear cub, which was the real target of Grif's order.

"Yah!" Grif yelled, and both Dwarf and Bear looked up at him in astonishment.

"Gwan! Giddouttaheah!" Grif clapped his hands and the sharp sound was like a peal of thunder to the two mesmerized creatures, and they both took off as fast as their legs could carry them. While the Bear galloped south into the hills, the young Dwarf bolted north out of Kharanos towards Ironforge, Belia Thundergranite, and his next lesson on the road to becoming a Hunter.

* * *

"So ye see, young man," said Belia, "because yer the Alpha, yer companion relies on you. He looks up to you not just for leadership, but for life. He relies on you for food, shelter, and protection. And if yer not going to look after yer animal companion, I've just wasted the better part of three hours with ye, so ye might as well just head on over there to him *snort* and become a warrior." Belia blew through her nose as she shrugged and looked in the direction of Kelv Sternhammer. "How about it? Ye want to mingle with the likes of him? Or do ye want to be a Hunter? Now go! I've taught ye all ye need to know...for now."

* * *

Kwazi sat just outside Steelgrill's Depot, looking down on the Steam Tanks. Although a light snow was falling on him the warm body curled up next to the dwarf kept him quite warm, and his hand absently stroked the Snow Wolf's fur. The Wolf was the third beast Kwazi had befriended this day, but it, like the Bear and the Snow Leopard before it, just didn't feel right. He enjoyed having the animals beside him; he could feel the call of the wild. He knew he was destined to be a Hunter, not a muscle bound oaf of a Warrior, but he needed to find the right animal for him. Kwazi needed his kindred spirit.

"Go, boy!" he ordered the Wolf, and it looked up at him, confused. The Wolf also enjoyed being with the Dwarf, its new Alpha, and the sense of belonging it got from being with the Dwarf gave it a feeling of security it hadn't known while living in the foothills of Dun Morogh. And now its Alpha wanted to send it away? The Wolf looked to where Kwazimoto was pointing and at that instant, a white rabbit burst out of a snow bank and bounded away.

"Go!" Kwazi repeated, and the Wolf's predator instincts took over and it leaped to its feet and began loping after the rabbit. Kwazi watched the chase for several seconds, until both animals disappeared among the swirling snow drifts, then he climbed to his feet and strode off in the opposite direction. Before too long the dark shape of the Kharanos Inn loomed into view, and Kwazi's belly rumbled.

“Time for a big bowl of rabbit stew,” he said to himself, “and maybe a pint or three of Thunder Ale.”

Perhaps his friend Jarven would be in, he could use the company. Perhaps? Kwazi, chuckled to himself. When was Jarven not in the Kharanos Inn? Why, he practically lived off the Inn's Thunder Ale.

Sure enough, Kwazi entered the Inn and a smile creased his face as he heard Jarven's booming voice ring out, "Hey there, Belm! Give me a mug of Thunder Ale, and one for my good friend...Kwazimoto?"

"Better make that two, Belm," laughed Kwazi. "You know how Jarven loves his Thunder Ale."

The two friends sat down at a table in front of the fire, clinked mugs, and Kwazi took a long pull. "Ah, that sure does hit the spot," he said. He lowered his mug to see Jarven pushing another one his way, while looking at Kwazi's half full mug with disgust.

"Come on! Drink up, man!" said Jarven, as he raised his own second mug of Thunder Ale. Kwazi took another long pull, slammed his empty mug down on the table, and heard Jarven call for two more mugs.

"Slow down, Jarven," said Kwazi, "I've not even touched my second mug yet."

"Aye, yer gettin' slow in yer old age, Kwazi." said his friend.

Kwazi gasped. "Old? Who are you calling old? You've got two seasons on me, you old coot!"

"Ha ha, it's good to see you again, Kwazi," laughed Jarven. "So, what brings you back to Kharanos? I didn’t expect to see you for at least another ten-day."

Kwazi explained his morning's actions to his friend. How he'd tamed several beasts but none of them had seemed quite right for him.

"Now this!" stated Jarven. "This sounds like a problem I can help you with! There's no problem too big, or too small, that cannot be solved by a liberal application of more Thunder Ale!" Jarven positively bellowed the last three words, and Belm rushed over to keep his best customer happy.

"Belm," said Kwazi, "bring me a bowl of stew, and some cornbread while you're at it."

"Bah! Stew and cornbread?" snorted Jarven. "What do ya want to go filling your belly with that stuff for, when there's still plenty more Thunder Ale."

Ignoring Jarven, Kwazi continued, "And Belm? A couple of plates of those Boar Ribs, too."

"Now those I can appreciate!" said Jarven. "There's nothing better than me brother's famous Beer Basted Boar Ribs, except maybe..."

Kwazi joined Jarven in finishing his sentence, "...more Thunder Ale!"

The two friends laughed then settled in for an afternoon of eating and drinking, while outside the storm picked up, adding even more snow to the almost constant layer of white powder covering the ground, for in this part of the country it almost always seemed to be snowing, regardless of the time of year.

* * *

It was late into the evening when Kwazi signaled Belm. "I think I'm going to be needing a bed for the night," he said. He smiled at Jarven, who lay asleep with his head on the table, surrounded by dozens of empty, foam-covered mugs. "You'll be paying for that lot in the morning," he said as he stood. The room spun, and he almost sat straight back down again. "Woah! As I will be too!" he added, catching the edge of the table and hanging on for dear life. When the room had stopped spinning Kwazi wobbled off through the kitchen and downstairs, to where a soft bed and a warm fire waited for him.

And with his Hunter lessons still fresh in his mind, is it any surprise that Kwazi's dreams were filled with countless Beasts, all clamoring for his attention? All except one, that is.

As the beasts of his dream pushed around him and fought with each other, one magnificent animal sat back from the rest. And while all the other animals growled and yipped and howled and roared and tried to catch his eye, the one beast that had Kwazi’s undivided attention ignored him, as it licked a huge orange paw and brushed it over one black and orange ear. Then switching paws it washed the other ear. And all the while it ignored the Hunter.

The other animals fell silent, then, as is the way of dreams when you pay them no mind, they vanished. Not with a pop, or a bang, or in a flash of smoke; they simply ceased to be. And then there was just the Hunter, and the Tiger, which stopped washing itself to stare at Kwazi for several, very long seconds, before dismissing him and resuming its bath.

A loud roar from behind the Hunter finally accomplished what he could not. Something behind Kwazi finally had the Tiger's attention.

"Just a dream, just a dream, just a dream," Kwazi told himself, as he tried to will himself awake. But he remained in his dream land. As he stared at the Tiger in front of him he felt the very warm, almost moist air of something breathing down the back of his neck. Literally down. Whatever was behind the Dwarf was tall enough that its hot breath was coming from at least a full foot above his head.

A second roar from behind Kwazi coated the back and top of his head with warm spittle. "What's...behind me...Tiger?" muttered Kwazi. The Tiger looked at Kwazi, then looked up behind him, and from the look in its eyes Kwazi figured whatever was behind him was big. Really big. He reached for his rifle but his dream self appeared to have misplaced it.

And then the Tiger leaped.

Kwazi ducked as the Tiger flew over his head and crashed into the something behind him, which let out more roars. Higher pitched “I'm in pain!” roars. Kwazi turned to discover the ‘something’ was a Raptor. His Tiger had the lizard by the throat, preventing it from bringing its own fearsome jaws into play, but the claws from both animals still raked at each other, and fur and leathery hide was shredded and running with blood.

Kwazi took a step back then raised his rifle to his shoulder. He didn’t ask where it had come from, this was a dream, and these things just are. Pulling his rifle in tight he looked down the barrel, waiting for his shot. The fight in front of him was chaotic and brutal, as both animals twisted and turned trying to gain the upper hand. Despite the blood covering their bodies the Tiger’s black and orange coloring stood out against the iridescent purple sheen of the Raptor, and it was the purple Kwazi needed to focus on.

Not the orange, focus on the purple. That’s where your shot is, he told himself. And then, after several long, agonizing seconds, there it was. For a heartbeat he had a clear shot, but that was all the time he needed. His rifle roared, flame belched from the muzzle, and black smoke obliterated both beasts, and when it finally cleared the Tiger was sitting there, alone, again ignoring Kwazi as it calmly and methodically washed itself.

* * *

Kwazi opened his eyes and sat up. The fire in his room had died down, but the room was still warm. He yawned and stretched and looked around. Some time during the night Jarven had found his way downstairs and into the other bed. Kwazi’s internal clock told him it was early, that the sun was not yet up although dawn was not far away.

As he quietly dressed he thought about the animal in his dream. A Tiger? It was a magnificent beast, and you never saw any of them this far north. Down south, though. In the jungles on the other side of Duskwood, now there be Tigers. But the tigers of Stranglethorn were huge beasts, and Kwazi was just a young Hunter with a lot to learn; he was not yet ready to venture into the Vale.

The only other place Kwazi knew where such tigers could be found was even further away than Stranglethorn. Across the ocean, the Echo Isles off the coast of Durotar was home to a small pride of Tigers. With their island being so small, and with such limited food supply, the tigers of Echo Isles were not as big as their Stranglethorn cousins; they’d be perfect for a young Hunter with the heart of a Tiger.

Kwazi muttered to himself, “I guess it’s time to see Kalimdor, see how the other half lives. Let’s see now. Boat from Menethil Harbor, come down through the Elfs’ lands and into the Barrens. Head down to Ratchet, then slip up the coast to the Echo Isles. Couldn’t be any easier, even if I were a Rogue.”

“Whazzat? Say sumppin?” Jarven mumbled.

“Go back to sleep, old friend. I’ll be seein’ ya later.”

“Hey. Who you callin’ old?” Jarven muttered, even as he rolled over and resumed snoring.

Kwazi slipped quietly from the room and out of the Inn, and headed east, towards the North Gate Pass, to Loch Modan, the Wetlands, and Menethil Harbor, where he’d catch the ship that would take him far from his homeland, and into the wild, Horde-controlled lands of Kalimdor.

Maybe I’ll stop off at Darnassus first, he mused to himself. See what all the fuss is over these Night Elf women. And all over some silly dance they do.
(Click here for part II)