Follow The Leader
In the vast, snowy landscape, the clinking and hammering of tools was a comforting sound. Zenji sat on a raised outlook, surveying the progress of the garrison. His garrison. Apparently he was a commander now; expected to gather an army and raise hell against the Iron Horde. He'd been flattered and more than a little moved by the suggestion, but he was no leader. For as long as he could remember, he'd been a soldier and an adventurer. Making his way through Azeroth, he'd done what people had asked of him – following the orders of his superiors like any good soldier. Zenji sighed dejectedly. It had felt strange coming to a new land without Nazgrim; like missing a part of his equipment or perhaps even a body part. Not a big one, like his leg, but maybe a finger or a tusk. Something that should have been there but isn't.
He'd fought against demons, ghosts, kings and dragons. But he'd never sent other people out to do his bidding, to face death in his stead. He wasn't sure if he could. He felt out of his element; a lone wolf, forced to gather a pack.
"Planning where to set up your perimeters, Commander?" an amused voice came from behind him.
The shaman sighed. Sometimes he wondered if the orc had some kind of alert that went off when people began to doubt themselves. Like one of those big red flashing lights the goblins were so fond of.
"Thrall," he greeted, not unkindly.
"Hiding your alcohol will do you no good," the orc chided, grabbing the poorly-concealed bottle and taking a sip. He grimaced at the taste. "How can you drink this… this, goblin rocket-fuel?"
The troll leaned over to pry the bottle from his hand. "It be not for tastin', mon. It's for gettin' yah drunk." He made his point by swallowing a big gulp.
The former leader of the Horde was a friend, a mentor, but above all he was a role model. Captivated with the incredible displays of power, the young troll had sought out to become a shaman. Thrall had been the one who had suggested he'd seek guidance from the Earthen Ring.
"These people are strong, brave and loyal. They will follow you," Thrall said, sweeping his hand as to indicate the level of activity in front of them. "And I have no doubt you will come across many more in your travels."
"Maybeh, but do dey have a sense of life instead of jus' duty?" Zenji grinned. "Ah plan ta find out."
Thrall caught sight of the colorful bundle lying in the snow next to the troll and rolled his eyes. "This isn't about the hat, is it?"
The troll had years of practice in becoming a powerful shaman and was a distinguished vessel of the Spirits, but apparently you can't take the troll out of the shaman.
"De ones who dance will be mah superior officers," Zenji swallowed another mouthful of the foul tasting liquid before standing. He grabbed the fruit hat and started to make his way down to the garrison.
"Well, you know what makes a good leader, don't you?" Thrall asked. At the troll's confused stare he continued. "A good leader doesn't say 'Go men, go' but rather 'Come men, follow me'."
Zenji chuckled softly and put on the ridiculous hat.
"Dere's a reason it's called 'follow da leader', mon."
A/N: I blame Oathkeeper0317 who introduced me to "The Mesmerizing Fruit Hat". Baaaad call ;)