Tuesday, July 20, 2010

Lark: Glimpses

2 comments:
One of the things that can frustrate me RP-wise is the inability to get inside my characters' heads. I'm better with some characters than with others- for example, Pitch can be especially frustrating, while Shaurria is one of my easiest when it comes to knowing what she's thinking.

One reason why I enjoy playing Lark so much is that she lets me in almost anytime; she seems to speak to me while I play her.

These are snippets from a couple months ago (shortly after she and Pitch met, really), up to within the last week or two. Enjoy.
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Touch. It was one of the most underrated things she knew of. It could be used to heal, and also to harm; she had been subject to both, and had given her fair share in turn. She had to admit that she considered most of the humans she had met to be rather shallow, in the way they seemed to always connect touching with intimacy. But there was so much more to it than that. Whether in shared passion or simply holding hands, she found something viscerally comforting in the feel of someone else's skin against hers.

Those thoughts flitted aimlessly through Lark's head as she leaned on her friend, the first man she had grown to trust in over four years. He said nothing, but with her ear pressed against his furry shoulder she could hear his quiet, soothing rumble. She considered herself lucky indeed, that she had found someone who not only shared her liking of physical contact, but also respected her privacy. She knew Pitch must be wondering why they were sitting outside the Pig & Whistle instead of inside, but he simply sat with her, lending her support emotionally as well as physically. He wondered, but he wouldn't ask; that was one of the things she was growing to depend on.

She wasn't ready for another relationship. It was still too soon after the last failed attempt. But she could hold on to these few moments and keep them in memory, for the next time things were dark or lonely. That was one thing her life had taught her- there was always a next time.

Soon enough the moment was interrupted, as always. "Uh, hi," she heard Pitch say to someone, and Lark opened her eyes to see a human female, one that Pitch seemed to know. She held back her sigh, and mentally steeled herself to face the world again.

* * * * * *

The sun shone down between the Park trees to dot the grass. Lark sat in one sunny patch, with Komah beside her and Tuah within arm's reach- the moonstalker still seemed in awe of the bigger cat, but no longer avoided his presence. In Lark's opinion, this was a good day.

The birdsong from the trees was disturbed by the sound of rustling robes, and Lark glanced up as Alanon approached. He stopped next to her, inclining his head politely to the huge cat at her side. Lark could feel Komah's amusement. "Mind if I sit?" She looked back up at the druid in surprise, then nodded, and he settled on the grass next to her.

"Forgive me for prying," he said after a moment. "But Pitch mentioned that you think you might be barren." Lark raised an eyebrow at him, then gave a wry half-grin. "He doesn't keep anything secret, does he?"

Alanon chuckled. "He will if you tell him to. Unless you specify, however..." Lark chuckled as well, then sobered when he did. "Have you made certain yet?" he asked gently.

Lark shook her head, then, feeling suddenly defensive, she added, "I just never got around to it. Always had something else to do..." She trailed off as Alanon held up a placating hand. "You don't have to justify it to me." he told her. "But, would you like to know?" She blinked at him, hesitating, then looked away. "I don't know."

The druid waited patiently as she sat there, feeling torn. On the one hand, it would be nice to finally know for sure. And she knew she could trust Alanon to be discreet, if she asked. But on the other hand... She hadn't had herself checked, not for lack of time, but because as long as it wasn't confirmed, she could still hope. Even if it was a false hope.

She sat without moving for several minutes as she struggled with herself. Finally, still not looking at the druid, she nodded. Alanon edged over closer, and she lifted her arms out of the way as he placed a hand lightly on her belly. His eyes closed in concentration as his fingers started glowing a faint green. Komah watched in fascination. Lark sat still, feeling nothing but a faint warmth and a tingle that seemed to move around inside her. After a few minutes, he pulled his hand away and looked up at her with compassion. "I'm sorry," was all he said.

It was the response she was waiting for, but she still felt a pang. She covered it with a shrug. "It's what I was expecting," she said simply, turning to fuss with Komah so she didn't have to meet his eyes. He reached up and squeezed her shoulder gently, then stood up and left her.

Komah looked up at her and chuffed quietly. Lark? She stroked his head, then managed a grin. "It's fine. I'd probably be a terrible mother anyway." He didn't look convinced, but he only snuggled his head in her lap, rumbling softly. She gently traced around the edges of his ears, trying not to think about anything at all.

* * * * * *

Lark lay quietly in bed, but she wasn't sleeping. Her head buzzed with the news Pitch had given her earlier that evening. Several dwarven acquaintances of his were going to Outland with a caravan of supplies, to help some of their fellows in Shadowmoon. The dwarves were asking for volunteers, and Pitch had told her as soon as he heard. Now, she couldn't sleep for thinking about it.

She hadn't realized until then how much she missed the road- the sense of freedom and space, the camaraderie of her fellow guards, and the thrill of seeing distant places. Stormwind was nice enough, and her current job paid well, but she was beginning to feel stifled. This might be a good chance to get out, to stretch her legs and see some excitement. But then, after she had gone to bed, she had started thinking of very different things altogether. Visions from her past mixed and jumbled together in her head, over and over.

A male Kal'dorei on a funeral pyre. A scarred lioness bleeding to death in her lap, while fires burned all around. A young tiger on a redstone cliff watching her fly away, his eyes full of mingled trust and confusion. A white tiger stretched out on a fresh grave, his eyes desolate. An enormous black panther throwing himself on troll spears, buying her time to escape. A wolf and a green dragon tangled together, blood and poison breath obscuring them both.

The visions continued until she felt her eyes burning. She sat up and rubbed at them, then her gaze fell on Tuah and Komah laying side-by-side, both watching her with concern. No, she thought. I don't want to go through it again. Not right now.

Suddenly the room seemed too small, too.... alone, despite the animals. She got up and pulled on a shirt and pants, then left the University grounds. Unheeded, the cats followed.

Shylamiir had gotten lax about locking up, knowing now that if anyone tried to rob her shop they'd have Pitch to contend with. Lark was grateful for that now, as she snuck into the shop and up the stairs. Pitch's door was closed, but unlocked as well. He stirred with a sleepy, inquiring noise as she slipped under the covers beside him, then he realized it was her and simply put his arms around her, pulling her in close. Lark finally felt herself relaxing, her visions banished by the druid's presence. Cradled against him, she fell asleep at last.
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She missed the first caravan, which took supplies through the Portal up to Honor Hold, but she met up with them there and helped guard the wagons all the way to the Terokkar border. It was fun, however, I seem to have lost a good bit of the chatlog, so any write-ups of that don't look too likely right now. :(

Working on another big one from her past, and I hope to have it finished in a couple days. Keep checking!

Thursday, July 15, 2010

The Box

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Brought to you by this little gem. Enjoy! (Filler post what's that I don't know what you mean...)

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“You open it.”

Pitch quirked an eyebrow at Lark. “It’s got your name on it.”

“Well, still…” She nudged it with her toe, and the box, or rather whatever was in it, thumped in response. “What do you think is in there?” she asked him as she squinted at it.

Pitch shrugged. “Something alive, obviously. Other than that… who knows?”

They both stared at the box, as if expecting it to come alive and start chomping everything in sight. Finally Pitch brightened. “Hey, what if we get Shaur to open it?”

Lark eyed him incredulously. “You don’t know what’s in there, and you’re okay with letting poor Shaur risk herself just because you’re scared?”

Pitch snorted. “I’m not scared. Besides, it’s got your name on it and you won’t open it either.”

Lark grunted noncommittally and returned to eyeing the box. Another minute passed, during which the whatever-it-was inside squeaked and thumped a few more times.

Lark turned back to Pitch. “Do you know where she is?”

Monday, July 12, 2010

Short Post Is Short

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Writer's block is being annoying again, but I am still doing art stuff at least, might even finish something today. We'll see.

My GM on Gilneas is back at last! We may be raiding again soon (I hope I hope), yay!

I've been lazy on WoW lately, but my LOTRO warden is up to 17 already. Rajast and Davoss are clamoring for attention, however, so I'll probably spend some time on one or both of them today.

I made that new blog I was talking about. It's over here. Blogspot has been pretty good to me so far, so I'm sticking with them. So... that will be where I'll be posting most of my random thoughts, and Spirit Bond will be strictly WoW, mostly RP stuff I'm thinking. Most of my "update" posts will be on the new one, along with stuff from the other games I play, and maybe some real-life stuff. Maybe. If I feel like posting it. >.>

Sooo, can't think of anything else right now. Til next time, Happy Hunting!

Friday, July 9, 2010

Iiiit's Shammy Time!

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Yea, yea, it's a dumb title. Oh well. :P

I left Rajast at about 57 1/2, and finally felt inclined to finish off that last level and get him to Outlands. Also, I've never taken screenshots of my toons going through the Portal and figured it was time to change that.


Rajast: "Ooooooooh."

And as usually happens, once he got to Thrallmar I just didn't want to leave him, so before I knew it he hit 60. I've been putting every talent point into Enhancement, so this means he has two buddies to run around with now!

(And yes, I probably will come up with names for them eventually. I seem to be a name-aholic. >.>)

His raptor can take a break now, too. Because flying is so much better than running through all the baddies.



That's about all I accomplished today, aside from more LOTRO. I've started debating making a second blog, so I can put more random stuff over there and make this one more of an RP blog. Haven't made up my mind, though, and I think that's a project for one of my days off, anyway.

So, til next time Happy Hunting!

Wednesday, July 7, 2010

Pitch: Meetings

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Finally ready to get the pally into some RP! Here's Davoss' introduction.

(Also, 2 posts in one day, woot!)
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Pitch had intended to pass by the Stockades on his way to the Festival Bonfire, but whatever errand occupied his mind was forgotten when he heard the shouts and clash of steel coming from inside. Ducking through the nearest doorway, he paused as his eyes adjusted, then blinked at the scene before him. Several prisoners had apparently gotten out of their cells, and were trying to force past the guards. The guards were equally determined that none of the prisoners were getting away. Pitch immediately jumped in to help. The fighting was furious for a few minutes, but gradually the prisoners were either forced back into the main cells or beaten into senselessness.

The guard captain thanked Pitch for his help, then turned to a young man that Pitch had taken for another guard. He quickly realized he was wrong, as the captain extended thanks to him as well. "Was th' least I could do," he replied to the captain in a soft drawl, and Pitch's ears perked; the Northern accent was now familiar to him after all the time he had spent with the Riders. This fellow's accent was not very pronounced, but Pitch was certain that he was from Lordaeron.

He sat by the door and waited until the human was leaving as well, then he fell into step beside him. "That was pretty good fighting," he commented, and the young man's face lit up in a grin. "Thank ye," he said shyly. "I'm Pitch," the druid offered. The human stopped and extended a hand. "M'name's Davoss," he replied.

Pitch eyed the hand, then looked down to his own paws. Davoss followed his gaze, then grinned sheepishly. "Ah, sorry. No' used t' non-human types." Pitch shrugged and grinned back. "Not a problem. Hey, do you live around here or are you just passing through?" The... paladin, judging by the design of his armor and the hammer now slung on his back, blinked at his directness. "Uhh, passin' through fer th' now, but I've stayed around before fer longer." Pitch nodded as he studied the human. There was something oddly familiar about him, but the druid couldn't place what it was exactly. Finally he dismissed the feeling with a mental shrug.

"Do you visit taverns at all?" he asked casually. "I know some paladins don't drink, so no offense meant if you don't." Davoss quirked an eyebrow, and that feeling of recognition flared up again. "Aye, I'm a paladin, and I don't particularly 'ave anything against 'em."

Pitch nodded. "I know several people from Lordaeron that gather in the Pig and Whistle every now and then. You should stop by sometime, might meet someone you know." Davoss' expression turned thoughtful. "Might do that sometime. Light knows I've no' met that many others from th' North, with th' war an' all." He looked down at the druid and nodded. "Think I will when I got time. Thanks, mate." Pitch beamed. "Then I'll probably see you there sometime," he said cheerfully. "So til then, take care." Davoss nodded again, then went on his way.

His original mission forgotten, Pitch ambled toward the Park. Shaurria was probably there by now, and would likely be up for some wrestling or what-not. He had almost reached the entryway from the Canals when he suddenly realized why the paladin seemed so familiar.

Davoss had a remarkable resemblance to Arvoss.

Arthas' Wake

No comments:
On Feathermoon, 3.3.5 marked the date that Arthas was killed IC'ly. Last night, the Northerners met at Aely's farm to hold the wake of Arthas Menethil, and of Lordaeron.
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Bricu says: Strewth, everyone's early.

Bricu says: Just waitin' on the Drachmases then.

Arvoss nods. His horse stamps restlessly, and he pats its neck.

Bricu points at Hillsbrad Farmer.

Bricu points at Hillsbrad Farmhand.

Bricu says: Yeh lot, come back here an' gimme a hand.

Arrens dismisses Inigo with a wave of the hand.

Darrows peers at Bricu.

Bricu peers at Darrows searchingly.

Darrows says: . . . anything I can do that's not lifting?

Bricu says: We can handle it.

Darrows looks sheepish.

Bricu says: No, not really.

Darrows says: Rot.

Bricu says: Just relax.

Darrows is useless.

Bricu says: Rot?

Darrows says: Well I'd like to help. And I don't think I can.

Bricu and three other northmen carry a box draped in the Flag of Lordaeron. They set the coffin down.

Bricu gives a nod.

Arvoss dismounts and drops the reins. The horse stays put.

Bricu watches as two of the Northmen fold up the Colors and walk off.

Bricu stand before a finely made coffin. The wood is dark brown polished to a perfect shine. In each corner is a Lion of Lordaeron, worked in truesilver. On one of the lions is a stamp. Two Bells ringing.

Threnn stands at attention, watching.

Bricu says: We'll get goin' in a wee bit

Bricu says: No one has ta say anythin'.

Bricu says: But if yeh brough an erik, we're puttin' it in the coffin.

Arvoss nods, eyes on the coffin.

Arrens eyes the coffin and those gathered around it.

Bricu nods at Kyraine.

Threnn peers at the coffin.

Kyraine returns the nod.

Bricu peers at Darrows searchingly.

Bricu says: Yeh hear from Jak?

Darrows says: He's unfortunately trapped up north for the nonce.

Kyraine pulls a small, paper wrapped package out of her horse's saddlebag

Bricu nods at Kyraine.

Bricu says: Right.

Kyraine offers the package. "Olives."

Darrows takes the olives. Her stomach wails. She shoves them away, ears going pink.

Bricu says: Right then... Anyone dyin' ta speak first?

Darrows says: Our thanks.

Kyraine says: No trouble at all.

Kyraine nods at Darrows.

Bricu says: Well...

Bricu says: I'll start then.

Bricu lets out a long, drawn-out sigh.

Bricu says: We are not here ta praise the life of Arthas Menethil, nor ta gloat over the demise of the Bloody Prince.

Bricu looks over the crowd.

Bricu says: We are here to heal. But to heal proper, we need to account what occurred in this war.

Bricu says: Many of you know that I was there the day Arthas put Stratholme to the sword.

Bricu points towards his Warblade of the Forgotten Footman.

Threnn nods.

Bricu places the Warblade of the Forgotten Footman into the ground.

Aelflaed nods.

Darrows eyes Bricu up and down.

Bricu takes the Royal Crest of Lordaeron off of his back.

Bricu says: I played my part in the destruction of our home. Many of you know of how I fled--not just the North, but how I left myself behind--only to find solace in bottles an’ casks.

Bricu says: I drank ta keep nightmares in check. Ta keep what I had....away from the bloke I wanted ta be.

Bricu looks away from Threnn for a moment.

Bricu lets out a long, drawn-out sigh.

Bricu says: It didn’t work. What worked was payin’ fer me crimes.

Bricu pauses, looking out to each person in the crowd.

Bricu winks slyly at Threnn.

Threnn offers a tight smile.

Bricu says: For all the terrible shite he was, Arthas was our prince. His birthright was never taken from him, even as he cut his own heart out in Icecrown.

Bricu says: We did the right thing by puttin’ him down, but that is not enough. We have ta hold ourselves ta a standard higher than our Prince, otherwise, we’re just. Like. Him. So we pay the price.

Bricu says: The old ways don’t have a price--an erik--fer committin’ genocide.

Bricu says: An’ there is no punishment, no recourse, no way ta restore our loss. But we can pay the price fer our own crimes. Even raisin’ arms against our Prince--monster though he was--can be paid fer.

Bricu says: This price is ta be paid, even in battle.

Bricu says: Now the ol’ways say it was three herds cattle fer the murder o’a Prince.

Bricu says: A fortune in the o’days, ta be true, but not the way we do business since we’ve civilized by the Light. The erik fer killin’ yer Prince is just that--a Prince’s ransom.

Bricu opens the coffin and holds up a finely wrought crown of gold, blazing with a single Azerothian diamond, flanked by two deep blue sapphires.

Bricu says: This is my erik. This is my payment for raisin’ up against my Prince.

Bricu pauses, looking out to each person in the crowd.

Bricu says: Ta heal what was once our home, I’ll pay fer what I have comin’. May my erik go ta healin’ the forgotten folk.

Bricu nods at Hillsbrad Farmhand.

Bricu nods at Hillsbrad Farmer.

Bricu says: The ones who we fought fer. May they fergive me....

Bricu pauses and composes himself.

Bricu sighs at Hillsbrad Farmer.

Bricu says: May they fergive me fer what I’ve done. An’ may our Bloody Prince find some peace in death.

Bricu bows his head.

Arrens bows his head solemenly.

Darrows folds her hands together.

Bricu says: Anyone else who wants ta say anythin'....or has an erik.

Arrens says: I'll go, if I may be permitted, Master Bricu.

Bricu says: They'll be sold an' the money will go ta rebuildin' fer those that lost everythin'.

Bricu says: By all means mate, go ahead.

Arrens clears his throat.

Arvoss pulls a small pouch from his belt. It clinks softly.

Arrens says: My first run-in with Arthas Menethil was after he had already succumbed to the might of the Scourge and, thus, the Burning Legion.

Arrens says: He marched with an endless army of undead and opened the portals to the Nether that wrought destruction upon my home, my family, and my kin.

Arrens says: He took from me everything I thought was dear to my life - things that, to this day, I yet miss dearly.

Bricu nods at Arrens.

Arrens says: But had those tragic events not occurred, if the tragic story of Arthas Menethil had not played out as it did, I would not be who I am today.

Arrens says: I would yet be nothing more than a child in the eyes of you, my peers; cloistered in the studious walls of a Dalaran few of you might have known before its current incarnation.

Arrens says: I would not know the true love of my life.

Arrens smiles at Aelflaed.

Aelflaed manages a smile.

Arrens says: I would not know you, my friends and colleagues.

Bricu smirks slyly at Arrens.

Kyraine nods at Arrens.

Arrens says: For the hell he wrought upon us all, I can do but thank him from some small part of my being.

Arrens says: Yet justice has been wrought and the Bloody Prince has been slain.

Arrens says: May he, and each of us, find some solace in this fact.

Arrens lifts the coffin and tosses a large pouch of coins inside before letting the lid slam shut.

Darrows purses her lips and stares at the coffin.

Arrens says: May your father forgive you, Prince Arthas.

Arrens clears his throat and steps back.

Bricu says: Well said.

Darrows opens her hands and a small, flat portal appears in front of her. She reaches through and yanks something out. It's a staff, taller than she is, covered in glittering jewels that throb with magic.

Darrows holds Halion, Staff of Forgotten Love in her hands.

Darrows says: Taken from his own cache after the siege.

Darrows flips it over in her hands.

Darrows says: Literally a king's ransom. I'd thought when this was over . . .

Darrows motions at her stomach.

Darrows says: I'd study it, but I find it will likely be better suited to fund rebuilding what he took.

Darrows steps forward.

Darrows opens the casket and lays it inside.

Bricu nods at Darrows.

Darrows says: I was, once, a bar maid in Brill, until the Barov's infested the town with plague.

Darrows says: My mother succumbed first. Her stomach bloated and her eyes went yellow. We buried her when we fled to Silverpine.

Darrows says: We thought we were fine. My father and I.

Darrows says: The moment he got the coughs and the whites of his eyes turned yellow, he put a rifle into his mouth. I died by myself on a farmstead there.

Darrows 's voice is flat.

Darrows says: . . . I knew no magic. I knew bars and songs and simpler things.

Darrows notches her chin up.

Darrows says: I'm something much stronger now. Something all together different.

Bricu holds a hand out for Threnn.

Arvoss fiddles with the pouch in his hands, listening.

Darrows says: . . . and for all its trappings, I'm thankful for it. Let the Bloody Prince's ransom rebuild some of what's been lost.

Darrows steps back. And eats an olive.

Threnn takes Bricu's hand and squeezes.

Bricu nods at Darrows.

Kyraine says: I'll speak, if it's alright.

Bricu says: Aye, please do.

Kyraine nods. She's holding a coin pouch and a wrapped sword with a single black stone set in the hilt

Kyraine says: I don't have the right to speak for, or to offer this, for my king or my countrymen.

Kyraine says: So I'll offer it for myself, and my ward, who's from Darrowshire. And for all the folk what had to fight because of what he did.

Kyraine says: Sometimes doing what needs to be done means facing the hard choices. That was done, and it's my hope that folk will find some healing in the aftermath of those choices.

Bricu nods at Kyraine.

Kyraine says: I don't think Azeroth will understand what was lost when Lordaeron fell.

Kyraine says: Might be they don't need to, because everyone here knows. I don't know.

Kyraine says: But it's only right that a sword go to help pay for what a sword took, so that maybe, there can be healing.

Kyraine sets the sword and the bag of coin gently inside the coffin and closes it.

Kyraine stands at attention and salutes.

Arvoss looks up and clears his throat.

Bricu smiles at Kyraine.

Kyraine nods at Bricu.

Threnn peers at Arvoss searchingly.

Bricu lets out a long, drawn-out sigh.

Aelflaed nods at Arvoss.

Bricu says: Normally, we'd have a mourner here...or a fiddler. Or both.

Bricu says: Personally.

Darrows says: I'd not do well with a keener.

Arvoss says: Ah didnae see Lordaeron fall

Darrows goes quiet and looks at Arvoss.

Bricu listens intently to Arvoss.

Arvoss says: Didnae make it out o' Strat'olme alive, even

Arvoss says: When Ah came back t' mahself, an' saw wha'd 'appened, well....

Bricu stares at the coffin.

Arvoss says: Tried t' lose mahself in th' bottle as well

Bricu nods at Arvoss.

Arvoss says: An' then.... Ah met a little druid kitten wha' didnae 'ave a family 'erself

Arvoss stares at the coffin.

Arvoss says: M'wife died few years before we evah 'eard o' th' Plague

Arvoss says: Mah son was oan 'is way t' makin' 'is own life. Ah still dinnae ken where 'e is naow

Arvoss says: Shaur 'elped me t' see tha' Ah still 'ad a reason t' fight, an' Ah did

Arvoss says: Ah didnae see 'im fall mahself, but we all kent when it 'appened

Arvoss says: Sae, Ah did mah part t' bring 'im down

Arvoss pulls the pouch strings loose and dumps a handful of finely carved gemstones into his palm.

Bricu nods at Arvoss.

Arvoss lifts the lid and lets them fall into the coffin, then closes it again.

Threnn nods at Arvoss.

Arvoss says: Naow Ah 'ave t' make a new life fer mahself

Arvoss bows his head.

Threnn glances at Bricu.

Bricu says: We all do...an' well said.

Bricu peers at Threnn searchingly.

Bricu says: I wouldn't trade the new life for the old.

Threnn says: All right for a Southerner to speak?

Bricu says: Aye.

Arvoss says: Go oan, lass

Kyraine nods at Threnn.

Threnn steps forward and unsheathes the sword on her back.

Bricu watches Threnn.

Threnn says: He was never my prince.

Threnn says: But he was a Knight of the Silver Hand, and should have been the best of us.

Bricu nods at Threnn.

Threnn says: Suppose what he did led us all to where we are now, and I ought to be thankful for that.

Threnn smiles over her shoulder at Bricu.

Bricu winks slyly at Threnn.

Threnn says: I am, don't ever question that.

Threnn says: It took loving a northman to understand what was lost. Took almost losing *him.*

Threnn sets the Stoneforged Claymore and sets it atop the coffin.

Bricu stares at the coffin.

Threnn says: His debts are mine. His loss is mine. And more than that, they're our daughter's.

Threnn says: Light bless what can be salvaged, what lives can be forged anew.

Threnn bows her head and steps back.

Bricu holds his hand out for Threnn.

Arrens mumbles a quiet "Amen."

Kyraine bows her head briefly

Bricu whispers, "wonderfully said love."

Aelflaed wanders into the little shelter.

Threnn takes Bricu's hand.

Aelflaed hefts a rough canvas sack of some kind.

Aelflaed heaves it into the coffin. It splits, spilling grain everywhere.

Aelflaed says: Tha's this year's crop. Unplanted.

Bricu nods.

Arvoss nods.

Aelflaed says: Th' work ay Jolstraer's hands, an' my own. An' na put in th' ground fir fear ay losin' it t' weather air lack ay tendin'.

Aelflaed says: 's other sacks, but none will fetch any sort ay price. Still, this war began wi' grain. I figure endin' it wi' grain t' feed folk who've lost all else canna go wrong.

Aelflaed says: Ye lot ken th' most ay th' story I've led. Th' home I lost, an' nearly lost myself. Th' wounds wha dinna truly e'er heal.

Bricu nods at Aelflaed.

Aelflaed says: Someday, mayhap, th' scars in th' mirror will fade like th' scars in th' land an' th' scars in our minds.

Aelflaed looks to the coffin.

Bricu watches.

Aelflaed clears her throat and sings - her voice wavers at first, but finds its center quickly.

Bealocwealm hafa frone frecan forth onsended
giedd sculon singan gleomenn sorgiende on Lordaeron
the ma no ware his dryhtne
and maga deorost
Bealo....

Arrens bows his head.

Bricu bows his head.

Kyraine listens quietly, placing a hand respectfully on her sword's hilt

Arvoss bows his head.

Darrows watches Aely's face, almost transfixed.

Aelflaed closes the coffin gently, ignoring the loose grain.

Threnn bows her head.

Aelflaed says: Into the Shining land, the Light will enfold you. All that ever was is there, and none will be forgotten.

Aelflaed says: If such an end is set for Arthas Menethil, may he find his peace in it.

Bricu says: Thus ends the wake o'Arthas Menethil. May we all find peace.

Arvoss whispers a rough "Amen."

Aelflaed says: So be it.

Kyraine says: Aye.

Monday, July 5, 2010

Stuff and Things

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I am being a bad neglectful blogger again. >.>

It occurred to me that I haven't mentioned two fairly important additions to Lark's "family" yet. Meet Baast and Seyvo.




Baast is the current baby, she just tamed him recently so he's not even 80 yet. I haven't been able to hang on to a chimera yet on any of my hunters, even though I love them, so I figured since Lark is BM 90% of the time now (or more!), heck why not? Seyvo was tamed a good while ago, after I realized doing the Argent tourney dailies without a tank pet was Way Too Hard. Killing off the Converted Heroes has gotten a lot simpler now. They're both male, and they are both, sadly, strictly out-of-character pets. Lark just is not a multi-pet person, even though her player is, so she'll just be bringing these guys out for random dungeon runs, farming/questing, and such.

Shaurria is going slowly but surely. She's finished the Ursoc chain now, with some help from Pitch, and next will be the Amphitheatre of Anguish and Har'koa's chain. Those should get her to 76 easily (she's 75 1/2 now), and then she'll be at the point where I fly through the levels. 80 won't be far off.



My job decided to screw with me this past week, changing my schedule so I'm going in at 7 most mornings, instead of 8. It's only an hour's difference, but know what? That one hour makes a ton of difference. Most days I wound up crashing as soon as I got home, then waking up to spend a few hours on WoW, then back to bed. This has not helped my playing or writing at all, and most of this week I've felt a little bit out of things. I'm hoping either I will get used to the earlier schedule, or management will go back to what was normal.

Meanwhile, I've been spending a bit of time away from WoW. Lord of the Rings Online, specifically. I hadn't played a warden yet, so I figured today was as good a time as any to try it. Meet Ilfariel.


She's from Gondor, is absolutely fearless, and has a thing for horses, which you can probably see. I've never really tried to seriously roleplay in LOTRO before, although a couple of my characters do have personalities, but for whatever reason Ilfariel has stuck herself in my head like Lark has. I got her to level 9 in one day, and really didn't want to quit playing her when I did. So I may be spending a bit more time away from WoW for the foreseeable future. Just a bit, though!

Honestly, WoW hasn't been as exciting lately. I definitely don't want to quit or anything, but there's a lot of stuff going on that I don't want, and the stuff I do want to happen, isn't. Things on Gilneas are still irritatingly uncertain. There's been some discussion about a couple of my guildies taking over the guild there and starting up raiding again, but I'm not sure when/if that will happen. And I realize now that I miss raiding. I'm not hardcore in any way, shape, or form, but I like beating up bosses and getting shiny loot as much as anyone else. I have tried getting Lark or Pitch into raids a couple times, but so far nothing has happened. It's.... actually getting to the point that I don't really want to play on my 80s anymore, and I wind up on one of my alts. There's simply not much for them to do except raid, and that's been proving frustrating. It's also making it very hard to not transfer Barraccus and Quae to Feathermoon.

RP has been my escape lately, and that's been winding down as well. Seems like most people are doing their own private stuff, leaving my guys out in the dust. Right now, I would love to have more Pitch/Skyborne RP, but Sky's player is as much an altoholic as I am, so her other toons have been taking priority. Aely's player has been alting as well, so Shaur still doesn't see her much. My sister is usually on Kal, her warrior, and Kal is usually with her own friends, so that cuts her out.

I'm missing the group RP that we've had in the past. Not even the big stuff like chasing down Maggie Maunt, but just a large group sitting around and swapping tales, or something similar. I'm finding myself on my own too often, and there's only so many ways I can occupy myself. Frankly, I've just been bored lately, and being tired from work doesn't help.

To put it as bluntly and simply as I can, I want more of this.

But this is what I've been finding most often.

So now I'm just not really sure what to do. Leveling alts still has some entertainment value, and I'm excited at the thought of getting some of my characters to 80 that aren't druids, death knights, or hunters, but to be honest?

WoW just isn't as much fun alone.