Your OC as a raid boss and all the fun details about location, phases, and abilities. (Ahua is not allowed to ever actually be one because she's living forever)
The Dance of the Darkspear
Akin to Legion's Trial of Valor, the Dance of the Darkspear is a three-boss raid that explores more troll lore. [Yes, yet another troll raid!] The raid is presented as a proving grounds and a history lesson at once, taking players from Dazar'alor to the Other Side on a mystic crucible.
Ahuatli and the Veildancers
The first encounter is a ceremonial performance of the sacred sisterhood, the Veildancers, located in the Loa's Sanctum of Dazar'alor.
Designed in the style of Lorewalker Stonestep in the Temple of the Jade Serpent, this encounter would select one of the veildancers to lead the performance, and each veildancer would tell their loa's tale.
From Bwonsamdi and Rezan to Xolotal and Xibala, well-known and obscure loa would both get their chances to shine, with specters and voodoobound golems opposing the adventurers.
Azae'latl and the Jaguar Warriors
Players would be whisked away from the holiest temples to the jungle primeval, where Azae'latl would enlist the reforged Order of the Jaguar Warriors to test the mettle of the adventurers.
The second trial would begin in a sacred cenote, against Jaguar Warriors of the past and present, in an encounter inspired by Master Snowdrift of the Shado-Pan Monastery.
In the final phase, the commotion would summon forth Tloque'Rakir, the jaguar loa of bloodlust, and all would have to battle the loa back into the depths of the cenote, sending it back to the Other Side.
Zul'Jawa and the War Dance
Players would remain in the underworld for the final fight, guided by Zul'Jawa and his ghostly greatfather, Zul'Izotl, both War Dancers welcoming the party to the final trial.
In this last lesson, a gathered host of ghostly trolls would engage all players in ritualistic combat. Deceased trolls of legend would return, with players having to remember time-tested tactics of Dazar from King's Rest, Zul'jin and Daakara from Zul'Aman, Tharon'ja from Drak'Tharon Keep, Jin'rokh the Breaker and High Priestess Mar'li from the Throne of Thunder!
The instance's final boss would be the dreaded Hakkar, again trying to escape from the realm of death and descending upon the players in a storm of blood. Only by enacting the War Dance, replicating the lessons learned from the history of trollish warfare over the ages, can the players outlast and overcome the Soulflayer a final time.
Lucky players might leave the Dance of the Darkspear with a rare jaguar or wind serpent mount, and achievement hunters would return to the Dance to complete side-objectives - winning dance-offs against each veildancer, winning games on an otherworldly ball court, or catching axolotls in the waters of the cenote!
[ Thank you so much @zeehva for this ask, I had an absolute blast with this! ^^ ]
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“I have seen you perform only once, but it left a stunning impression. The grace of the dance gives voice not only to your natural skill, but the dedication to training that such a level of performance entails. I hope that one day we may meet and compare styles as that memory inspires me in my own dances.”
"The joy that comes from deep in her soul. She's a woman with significant trials in her past, but she doesn't let them define her now. I admire that so much and I hope to learn some of that from her. She's beautiful inside and out."
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Marigold flowers lined the gilded streets and terraces, blossomed in the floating gardens, drifted and danced in the gentle autumn wind that carried down from the jade mountains towards Dazar'alor. Illuminated by the warm, flickering fires on candles and torch sconces, the legendary city of gold instead seemed to glow with a heartwarming amber hue.
The sweet smell of incense carried through the air. The sounds of steady drumbeats, conch shell ocarinas, and maracas, all resonated in her soul - how could she keep from dancing?
Ahuatli was well accustomed to these celebrations - but nowhere in the world was the Day of the Dead celebrated so spectacularly as Zandalar. On these special, saintly days, it felt as though the whole of the empire was in Bwonsamdi's grasp.
In some ways, perhaps it was - the Loa of Graves had taken the place of Rezan, the Loa of Kings, in Zandalar's pantheon. The head of her very own order of veildancers, herself, danced in Bwonsamdi's name; the same name was whispered and exalted by Queen Talanji. And even still, with a shiver coursing down her spine, she asked herself - how could she keep from dancing?
As the veildancer peeked out from behind the curtains, feeling a sense of stagefright that she hadn't felt since she first started dancing, she understood why. Her icy eyes scanned the masses. Richmons and commoners, priests and paupers.
And for the very first time - her father and mother were not there, among the crowd, there to support her as they always had. She drew the stage curtain back, and turned away.
She wasn't ready.
She had lost them both to sickness some months ago. She had buried her ma'da in the catacombs of Atal'Dazar, anointed ground on Mount Mugamba, and she had sent her fa'da out to the vast seas, his funeral boat devoured by the shark god Gral.
The highest of honours for the hallowed dead. She had mourned and grieved and come to accept life without them, but still, she wasn't ready.
A gentle voice shattered her suffering in silence. "Ahuatli," she spoke, a soft-spoken stage-whisper that somehow still resonated louder than the music and crowd beyond them. "Ahuatli!"
The trolless shook her head, jolting herself back to rejoin her in reality. She had been so lost in her own despair, she'd almost forgotten that this wasn't a solo performance awaiting her. Her gaze fell upon her dancing partner, and her breath was taken; if only her sorrow vanished just as quickly.
Zeehva Belrose, her beloved best friend, a world-wandering merchant and a wonderful dancer in her own right; it had taken nothing short of a diplomatic miracle to arrange for her presence here. A headdress of august pheasant feathers and marigold blossoms framed her face, half-painted with a calavera sugar skull, her emerald eyes wide with concern.
"Ahua, you're worrying me. Are you alright?" Zeehva reached up to place a reassuring hand on Ahuatli's shoulder, inscribed golden bracelets jingling with the gesture. "We don't have to head out there if you're not okay."
Zeehva's smile was reassuring and patient, a solace that Ahuatli sorely needed in this moment. "I'm so sorry, Zee," the veildancer spoke through a sigh, ashamed at her own undignified state. "This is jus'... my first time dancin', without them."
All at once, Zeehva understood. "Ahua, you have nothing to be sorry for." She squeezed at the Darkspear's shoulder, prompting the tall troll to descend downwards, and join her in a comforting embrace. She knew what Ahuatli was suffering through - firsthand.
"Deep breaths," the human soothed, releasing Ahuatli, allowing her to regain her own composure, at her own pace. "Remember the steps. Take your time. Got a captive audience out there. They'll wait." She winked, and gestured over her shoulder to the crowd still hidden from sight by the curtains.
All things Ahuatli knew, deep down. All things she needed to hear, all the same. Already, Zee had the veildancer smiling - tired, but sincere. Taking her advice, Ahuatli's eyes closed again. She breathed deeply, returning to familiar stretches, recalling the traditional routines she had choreographed, practiced, mastered.
"And... Ahua?" Zee spoke up again, steadying herself as she found the perfect words. "For what it's worth... they're still with you."
Her words echoed in the jungle air, and Ahuatli shut out everything else to focus on them, to spare a thankful prayer to her ma'da and fa'da. The veildancer shed a few tears, of both sorrow and joy, finally feeling as though she understood the reason for the season unfolding around her. Celebration, not lamentation. Honouring those passed on to the Other Side, commemorating them with what they loved most in life... remembering to carry them onwards in the waking world.
She'd keep the crowd waiting for only a moment longer. She cast her gaze out across the vast surrounding wilds, grateful that this had been a sight she had been able to share with them. She followed the flow of the Kingsmouth River, running through the rainforest towards the ocean... and she saw her fa'da, in the jungle mists and the gentle waves.
And, all the while, she listened to the music that resounded still, tapping her toes to the drumbeat... and she heard her ma'da, jade bracelets shaking as she danced along, singing the loa's praises and the sweet songs of a distant promised land, a golden city of legend.
From a tiny hut on a stormwrought spit of sand - together, they'd made it to Zandalar. Ahuatli smiled, as wide as the horizon, feeling renewed - feeling ready. How could she keep from dancing?
"Zee... thank you," Ahuatli replied, rejoining the wanderer upon the gilded stage. She spared a laugh at her own expense. "I didn't... ruin the facepaint, did I?" She'd gesture to her own skeletal guise, tracing a finger on the dazzling rhinestones surrounding her eye.
Zeehva giggled, her wavy black hair bouncing as she shook her head. "No, you're perfect," she praised, "and - you're welcome."
Ahuatli bumped Zeehva's hip with her own, her smile unassailable, as the curtains were drawn back, silencing the chatter of the crowd. "Knock 'em dead."
Again, the marigolds drifted and danced in the gentle autumn wind. Together, to the rhythm of drums, ocarinas and maracas, Ahuatli and Zeehva would join them, dancing on into the night.
[ Thank you so much @zeehva for allowing me to feature your wonderful OC! Her friendship has meant the world to Ahuatli. Last year, to celebrate Día de los Muertos, we commissioned this unbelievably beautiful art piece from @aerart - I was inspired to write this to accompany it! Thank you for reading! ^^ ]
"I still think back, every so often to the lovely day we met. In the Jade Forest, before the Serenity Falls. From the very first moment, you treated me like an old, treasured friend."
Ahuatli sighed softly, her icy eyes gently fluttering shut. "I could not be more grateful to have met you, then and there. I could never have imagined the beautiful friendship we would share, from that moment on."
The corners of her lips pulled up in a smile. "I would very much like to revisit those waterfalls with you."
"Wondrously. I am heartened to see so many of Har'koa's faithful still gathering, more joining the faithful each year. It fills me with hope, for the future of our faith." Ahuatli beamed. "The little cubs behaved, I'm quite happy to say. Though now that we've returned, they're back to their rambunctious selves."
Each year, by the winter solstice, Zul'Jawa and Ahuatli embark upon a pilgrimage towards the Temple of Har'koa, located in the snowy steppes of Zul'Drak. Followers of the snow leopard loa have tended to congregate together, finding strength in numbers and bolstering their shared faith.
Their ceremonies are anything but extravagant - Zul'Drak is still a dangerous wasteland. Instead, they dance without music, silent as snowfall. They are some of Ahuatli's favourite performances, and certainly the most sacred.
