The Adventures of Bofain, son of Farar

Denne fortælling blev til i 2010, da jeg deltog i Blizzard's fan fiction contest. Et af kravene var, at historien skulle finde sted i et Blizzard-miljø, altså Diablo, Warcraft eller Starcraft. Jeg valgte Warcraft med udgangspunkt i den forestående udvidelse til World of Warcraft hvor der blev introduceret nye race/class-kombinationer. Hovedpersonen er derfor min fortolkning af hvordan dværge nu kunne blive shamaner.

This tale was created in 2010 when I participated in the Blizzard fan fiction contest. One of the regulations were that the story had to take place in a Blizzard inspired environment - Diablo, Warcraft or Starcraft. I chose Warcraft, inspired by the upcoming expansion for World of Warcraft where new race/class combinations were introduced. Consequently the main character is my interpretation of how dwarves can now become shamans.

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6. Someone told me in a dream

 

The earth beneath your feet forms the foundation for all things. The sky, the waters, even great fire – all rest upon its shoulders. While those others often form chaotic tempests, the earth abides. It grants strength and fortitude to the core of your being.

Bathed in sweat, Bofain woke up. He grabbed his rock and felt the smooth surface as felt his pulse slowing down. With his eyes closed he breathed deeply, listening to his surroundings. The ship planks creaked, water splashing against the hull and the wind wailed in the cracks all over the ship. It was still dark outside, so he decided to lie down, even though he knew he would not fall asleep again.

He watched Olric on the other side of their cabin. He was fast asleep as usual. Bofain envied his ability to just set aside his worries and rest his body and soul with a good night’s sleep. Olric was in no way a stupid man. He could outwit most of the other priests at the church when he wanted to, but he was a simple man. He enjoyed the little things and although he was loyal, levelheaded and stoic in a difficult situation, he could not hide the fact that he also loved ale and women. The other priests had always looked upon his escapades with indignation, but Olric did not care. Bofain wished he did not care either. He wished that he did not believe in dreams and that he was just a regular dwarf. But something in his soul had begun to move. He could feel it in his heart, in his hands and his mind. Something had started to change and he did not know what it was, nor how to stop it.

Suddenly he found himself on the mountain again. The altar was there, just like before. Slowly the fog returned and out of the mist, Masalai reappeared. She looked tired and uneasy. When she spoke, her voice resonated in the sky and in the mountain.

“You have put yourself in great peril, Bofain. I told you to stay at home, but I was interrupted by… something… before I could finish and it appears to have convinced you to leave home. It is important that you do not travel alone. Should they get to you, everything will be lost!”

Masalai wiped a tear from her eye. “You are important. Not only to your father and friend, but important to generations to come. You will lead the way for thousands, but soon you will have to make a choice. A choice whether you will lead them into light or darkness.”

She looked around, whispered something and then turned back to Bofain. “Go now, ancient one. Wake up and continue your journey. Go to Grizzly Hills and seek out Gryan. What you have started, you must finish. Wake up now…”

The image of Masalai blurred and a glaring light appeared over the horizon.

“Wake up!”

Olric sat down next to him. “Ya know, I’m gettin’ tired of yer screamin’ all the time,” he grunted. “Are ya sure yer okay?”

Bofain took a moment to gather his thoughts. “Yeah, I’m alright,” he said. “Where are we?”

“We’re almost in port. Once we make land, we have ta’ figure out where ta go next!”

“I already know,” Bofain whispered.

“Wha’? How’d’ye already know?” Olric asked with surprise.

“Someone told me in a dream.” 

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