Barraccus: Vengeance

This is immediately after this part. Short story is short?
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Barraccus allowed Quae to lead him out the door. Once outside, though, he suddenly pulled Quae to a stop. He led her over to the side of the house, where his deathcharger was cropping grass alongside Crison’s. It raised its head and watched as he walked up to it and placed a hand on its nose. Quae stepped up beside him. “Is there something wrong, Barraccus?” she asked him. “No,” he answered quietly. “I was just thinking.” He stood silent for a bit, gathering his thoughts.

Riatha came over while he was thinking and went to the other side, stroking his charger’s neck. He barely glanced at her before continuing. “I’ve never named this horse. He’s been a good mount, but I hardly even thought of him once I had gotten Oscor. I certainly never rode him anymore. But now…”

The deathcharger snorted, then nosed his hand, looking for a treat. He rubbed its muzzle a bit, then let it wander off in search of better grass. “Arthas, the Lich King, has taken everything I cared about. I’ve found other things to care for, and now he threatens to take those too. I’m not the only one either. How many other families have been torn apart because of him? How many orphans and widows have been made? He must be stopped, before he does further damage.” He turned to Quae, and the look in his eyes almost stunned her with its intensity. “He has to be stopped, before he takes more from me,” he said quietly. She started to reach for him with one hand, but stopped herself and let him finish.

He turned back to the dark horse. “So, I thought of a name while we rode back here. And when we reach that final battle with Arthas, I won’t be riding Oscor; I’ll leave him somewhere safe. I’ll be on this horse that he gave me, this horse that I’ve named Dune’adah.”

“Dune’adah,” Quae softly repeated the Darnassian word. She shared a look with Riatha, one tinged with fear. “Vengeance.”

Delays, delays, delays

Grumpy post is grumpy.

My new computer, as far as I know, is ready. I had hoped I could pick it up on Wednesday, which is when it was supposed to be done. But had to wait for my dad, since he knows the guy that's doing my computer. Dad didn't get home til way after 5, too late to go pick it up that day. So, we were going to get it today, but he couldn't get in touch with the guy. Wasn't at work, didn't answer the phone. So now, since it's a holiday weekend (Memorial Day), gotta wait til Tuesday.

Thankfully my laptop hasn't given me any more issues, though I've been afraid to turn it off so just been setting it on standby. Ugh, I hate waiting...

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On a different note.....

Alliance guild's raid tonight was Ulduar to start with. We already have Flame Leviathan pretty much down, tonight we tried Razorscale for the first time. And, well, see for yourself. :)


New boss down! :D

We tried Deconstructor too, it was worth it just to hear my guildies response to his voice. *snicker*

And after many painful wipes....

Ignis had fun smushing us into the ground a few times before we quit for the night. Altogether, it was a pretty awesome night! And Alanon picked up a new chestpiece, whee!

That's about it, til next time Happy Hunting!

Barraccus: Oscor

This is several days after the last one. Rhokk is recuperating under Alanon's care, so Barraccus and Riatha have headed back to Northrend.

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Barraccus liked going up the steep, narrow trail even less than he had liked going down.

He and Riatha had been in Howling Fjord for a few days now. After Alanon had taken over Rhokk's care, they had agreed that until he was better, the less Rhokk saw of the death knights, Barraccus especially, the better. Crison had vanished, going her own way without telling anyone. Quae was staying in Ashenvale to help her brother. So Barraccus and Riatha had found themselves at Westgarde Keep, helping out with everything from lost cannonballs to invading vrykul.

This morning they had found a path down to the beach on the western coast, and Riatha convinced him to go exploring. They had found Scourge necromancers there, turning the murlocs into undead, and had felt it their duty to "take care" of the problem. After several hours, they finally retrieved their mounts and headed back to the Keep.

Barraccus tried to ignore the occasional gravel that rattled down past him, knocked loose by Riatha as she went on ahead. He encouraged Oscor with pats and quiet words as the big saber picked his way up the steep path.



He had no idea what caused it. One minute they were still heading up, where the top of the trail was finally coming into view, then something happened. Loose rocks that slipped from under Oscor's paws, a piece of the trail breaking free, or something. Whatever it was, Barraccus suddenly felt his mount lurch, then he was staring down into space. He had enough time to try to get free of the saddle and tell himself that this was going to hurt, then he hit the bottom and blacked out.

He was only out for a moment, then he slowly blinked back to consciousness. He was on his back, staring up at the sky. He thought he could feel Oscor's warm bulk next to him. He attempted to raise his head; except for a slight headache, it felt fine. When he tried to sit up, however...

"Ooooooh." It felt like at least one rib was broken. He carefully tested his arms and legs and found they still worked. Oscor must have cushioned him somewhat from the brunt of the fall...

Oscor!

He sat up as quickly as he coud despite his ribs. He heard Riatha call from above, and was distantly glad she had escaped the fall. But right now his eyes were fixed on his mount, who lay nearby, eyes closed and sides heaving as he panted. There was blood all over the ground. He knelt by the big cat's head, noticing with a trace of fear the blood staining the fur around his mouth and nose. "Oscor," he said softly. One ear twitched, then the saber opened eyes bright with pain. Barraccus gently touched his head, then looked over the cat's body. He couldn't see where the blood had come from, but it looked like the hind leg on the side he was laying on was twisted. He heard Riatha gasp behind him, and turned. She stared at Oscor just a second longer, her face pale, then said quickly, 'I'll get Alanon." She turned her mount and raced away.

Barraccus unfastened the saddle harness, then sat by Oscor's head and waited. He wasn't concerned with his own injuries; he could heal them himself by killing one of the nearby Scourge and absorbing its life energies. But he could do nothing for his saber except try to make him more comfortable, and keep him company.

The afternoon sun beat down on them, and Barraccus was trying to find some way to shade Oscor's head when he heard wingbeats above him. A large purple bird flew down and landed next to him, then Alanon was bending over the huge saber. Barraccus jumped up and immediately winced as his ribs stabbed with pain. He blurted out what had happened as the druid examined the cat. "He's not injured on this side," Alanon observed. "Let's see if he can turn over, so I can see the other side." He crouched by Oscor's head and began murmuring a calming spell as Riatha rode up, looking anxious. Once Oscor's eyes glazed over, the two of them managed to heave the big cat over. Barraccus winced again.

The hind leg on that side was quite clearly broken, the thighbone jutting from a large tear in the skin. As they settled him on the other side, it started bleeding again. Alanon went to it quickly and began a healing spell, running his hands over the gash. The bleeding slowed, and he had Riatha help him pull the leg out straight, then continued his spell. Once that wound was mostly closed, he examined the big cat further. Finally he turned to Barraccus.

"That leg needs further healing, and he has some internal injuries," he told him. "I can't help him much here, but what I can do is this: I can teleport him with me to the Moonglade, and there I will have help to finish healing him. You won't be able to ride him for a while, but he will recover." Barraccus nodded. "That sounds fine, Alanon. Please do it." "Will you be all right here, Barraccus?" the druid asked. "Yea, I can summon Dune'adah, and ride him until Oscor is better," he replied. "Go on, please. I know he's in pain." Alanon nodded, then knelt by the saber's head and put his hands on him. A faint glow surrounded them, which grew brighter until with a flash, the druid and saber disappeared.

Riatha looked worriedly at Barraccus. "Are you okay?" she asked him. He stood and winced again. "I will be. Let's just get back to the Keep." He closed his eyes and concentrated, calling his deathcharger from the shadow realm. With a swirl and a loud neigh, Dune'adah appeared beside him, and he mounted the charger and followed Riatha back up the cliff, much more slowly this time.


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There is a story behind his deathcharger's name, too. I'm still working on it, but it should be done soon.

Tagged:Album Meme

Klinderas got me on the latest meme going around (I'm still not sure what that means >.>) so here is my attempt. The idea is to make up a music album with band name, title and pic.

I hope Klin doesn't mind if I copy/paste the instructions from his blog. >.>

The rules-
1 – Go to “wikipedia.” Hit “random… Read More”
or click Here
The first random wikipedia article you get is the name of your band.
2 – Go to “Random quotations”
or click Here
The last four or five words of the very last quote of the page is the title of your first album.
3 – Go to flickr and click on “explore the last seven days”
or click Here
Third picture, no matter what it is, will be your album cover.
4 – Use photoshop or similar to put it all together.

Aaaannd, here's mine :P



It seems so....tame... :/

So now I tag....... anyone that reads this that hasn't been tagged yet! Muahaha!

Go forth and make your albums! And Happy Hunting!

Barraccus: Scars

"I don't remember all of what they did to me," Barraccus said. "But what I do remember is more than enough." He stared into space for a little bit, until Quae's hand on his arm broke his reverie. "They didn't torture me just for fun," he continued. "I have no idea why he didn't just kill me outright and then raise me, but he seemed determined to break my spirit first. I don't know if I'll ever understand why.

"They had some healers among them, though calling them 'healers' may be a bit of a stretch. They could mend the body, but often they left the pain behind, so that after they slit your stomach open, then closed the wound, you still felt as though your guts were hanging outside your body. They did that to me often enough." He had removed his armor before, now he pulled his shirt off over his head. Across his stomach was a pale line, looking like a crease in his skin. He twisted around in his chair then, letting them see the raised line that zigzagged crazily across his back, just under his shoulder blades. It almost resembled some kind of ritualized tattoo. "They used a sharpened hot poker, piercing the skin and stabbing it underneath just a few inches. It cauterized the wound right away so there was little blood. I think that was the first one to get infected; they didn't bother much with cleanliness. Also, they didn't go the whole way across at once; it took them several days." He rubbed at his shoulder, where there were other scars; for some of them it was easy to guess how they had happened. He made no mention of them, though, and no one wanted to ask him.

He sat back in his chair, playing with the shirt in his hands. After a bit he pulled it back on. "There are others of course. They whipped me bloody, I don't remember how many times. There are things they did that left no scars, not on the outside, at least. Potions that they forced into me, that felt like fire crawling through my veins. They also had a rack, if you can believe it, and they knew how to use it. But with everything they did, they were always careful not to cripple me in any way. My hands, for example; they did nothing to my hands, or my arms. They broke no bones, although at times it felt like they did. My guess is that he wanted his 'pet' to be as perfect as possible; after all, he already knew what a fighter I was."

He blew out a breath. Quae reached out and took his hand, and he smiled at her. "I was a little surprised, our first night, when you didn't seem to mind the scars. I had thought they might frighten you." Quae gave him a look that clearly said he was being silly. "If you think a few scars would put me off, after I had spent all that time trying to get you to notice me..." She trailed off, then looked at the others and blushed. He grinned, raising her hand to his lips and kissing her fingers. Then he turned back to the group, sobering. "So, on to the mental part of the torture.

"I have one great comfort regarding my family. None of them were raised as undead; there just wasn't enough left of them to raise. That was little comfort at the time, however, as I was forced to see them torn to pieces in front of me, again and again. Closing my eyes never helped, since the images would keep playing behind my eyelids. I thought I would go mad from that alone.” He paused then, his eyes looking someplace far away. “He…. He gets in your head,” he continued softly. “He finds what hurts you the most- crushes any hope you might have- until you will do anything he asks, no matter how terrible, just to make it stop.” Quae, with a worried look on her face, started to reach toward him, but stopped as Alanon shook his head at her. Let him finish, he mouthed at her, and she sat back, though she continued to watch him worriedly.

“I have no idea how I broke free of him. One minute he was there in my head, as strong as ever, then suddenly he was like a faint whisper. I know now that he simply relaxed his hold on us all; after all, he thought we were all about to be destroyed. How could even he have known the paladins would spare us?"

The others jumped slightly as Alanon’s voice broke into the spell that Barraccus’ words had woven. “So you have no idea how you broke away?” he asked, just as quietly as the death knight. “Nothing you can tell us?” Barraccus hadn’t jumped; he still sat as if in a trance. He blinked a few times as he thought. “I…I’m not sure. I know that I was tired of the killing, the wanton waste of life. When I realized that we were losing, I felt like it must end. I can’t remember anything, though, except thinking to myself, ‘Enough!’ It just…happened…” He gave a weak half-shrug as he trailed off. Quae looked at Alanon almost desperately, and finally he gave her a slight nod. She got up and went to the death knight, putting her arms around his shoulders as she began murmuring to him. He seemed to come back to himself, though his eyes still looked haunted. He looked around the room at the others as if surprised that they were all still there.

Alanon cleared his throat. “I think we’ll need to think on this,” he said. “Thank you, Barraccus. I know it was hard to talk about it.” He gave the death knight a wry grin. “Why don’t you take a break? I know Quae has been itching to drag you off somewhere.” Quae shot her brother an indignant look as she blushed. But she wasted no time in taking Barraccus’ hand and pulling him out toward the door.
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Got a few ideas running around in my head, so the next post may or may not be the next chapter in this story. We shall see. :)

Barraccus and Rhokk: Part 6

Read this part first.
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Now that they were all mounted, they made much better time. They crossed into Ashenvale after just a few more days, and rode into the yard in a light rain. As Crison helped Rhokk get off the deathcharger, Barraccus headed into the house to find Alanon. He found the druid in the kitchen and, after a warm greeting, proceeded to fill him in on everything that had happened in the Plaguelands. “So that’s about it,” he finished. “We didn’t know what else to do, so I’m hoping maybe you can get through to him.” Alanon started to reply when suddenly from upstairs there came a call, "Barraccus?" Barraccus’ face lit up as he moved toward the stairs. Quae came running down and leaped into his arms, and he spun her around, laughing. He set her down as he came to a stop, saying, "See, I told you I'd be back." Her response was to take his face in her hands and kiss him.

Crison came inside then, assisting Rhokk, who was looking around as if in a daze. He looked first toward Alanon as the druid came in from the kitchen, and the draenei’s eyes widened in disbelief. He then turned to Quae, and saw her standing with Barraccus’ arms around her. Something flickered across his face, too fast to see, and he suddenly yelled, surprising them all. All except Crison, who was still holding his bonds. She took a firmer hold and managed to hold him back as he lunged at Barraccus.

"RHOKK!!"

Whsssshht!

When the frost motes filling the air subsided, Rhokk was standing with his lower half shrouded in ice. Barraccus had shoved Quae back and stood protectively in front of her, one hand still held out, frost clinging to his gauntlet. They all stood as frozen as Rhokk for a few minutes, until the druid broke the stunned silence.

“I think perhaps you should wait outside, Barraccus,” Alanon said, watching Rhokk warily. Then his gaze shifted to take in the other death knights. “All of you, please.” As the three filed out the door, he added, “Quae, stay with me. I’ll need your mind-magic.” The priestess gave Barraccus a quick kiss on the cheek, then went to join her brother.

Barraccus found himself fidgeting, unable to keep still. Riatha watched him with some concern, while Crison simply made herself comfortable under a tree and appeared to be taking a nap. Barraccus was startled when she suddenly broke the silence. “So, a death knight and a priestess of Elune,” she said. “You do like to make things hard, don’t you?” Barraccus flushed. “And..? We know the potential problems, and how we deal with them is our decision.” She opened one eye to look at him. “No need to get snappy,” she told him. “I didn't mean anything by it. Heck, I suppose it could be worse.” They all lapsed back into silence until at long last, Alanon came to let them back in. The look on the druid's face spoke volumes.

“We can’t help him, not like this,” Alanon said as they filed inside and stood around him. “We don’t know what is wrong with him, and without knowing what we’re facing, I’m afraid to try anything; we might just make him worse. He seems to believe that you killed us all, Barraccus, and now that he’s seen us he doesn’t know what to think. I hope he doesn’t go comatose on us, like what happened to you.” He sighed, looking as close to hopeless as Barraccus had ever seen him. It shook the death knight, even more so when the druid turned to him with obvious reluctance.

“I think,” Alanon said, as he looked at Barraccus with sympathy, “It might be best if you told us what you went through while you were a prisoner of that necromancer, as much as you can remember. It will probably help us understand what is going on in Rhokk’s head.” Barraccus stared at him for a minute, his expression unreadable. “Let…let me think about it a moment,” he said faintly, and he left them, going out to the porch. Quae looked at her brother almost angrily. “Are you sure it’s necessary?” she asked him. He nodded firmly. “Quae, it might be our only chance. Go talk to him, please.” She gave him an agonized look, but did as he asked.

After several minutes, Barraccus came back in, Quae at his side. He looked at Alanon expressionlessly. “All right,” was all he said, and he went into the kitchen and sat down, staring at the tabletop. Alanon allowed himself a sigh of relief, then looked to the others. “This is important for Quae and I only, but the rest of you can listen in if you’d like. I doubt an audience will make a difference to him,” he told them. Crison immediately went in and leaned against the stove. Riatha also went in, but more hesitantly, and sat down next to Quae, as if to offer emotional support. Barraccus looked around at them all, then let out a deep breath. “Okay, let’s get this over with,” he said, and began.
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Still working on the next part, though it's almost done. I'll get it posted asap. :)

Also, Barraccus has started on the Wrathgate pre-quests, so look for more stories as soon as Crison and I wrap this up!

Barraccus and Rhokk: Part 5

Rhokk stirred, then slowly opened his eyes. The first thing he saw was Crison, who noticed he was awake and spoke quietly to someone nearby. That someone came into his field of vision, and suddenly he was filled with rage. As Barraccus looked down at him he started thrashing around, trying to get free, but the ropes were sturdy and securely knotted. He could barely hear Barraccus' voice. "Rhokk, please calm down. Talk to us, what is wrong?" He finally stilled, and glared at the death knight for a moment before he looked away, refusing to acknowledge either of the others.

After several minutes of trying to get Rhokk to talk to them, Barraccus finally gave up and looked helplessly at Crison. "Now what?" She shook her head, studying the draenei. "We need to make a more secure camp before it gets any darker. I'm sure you don't want to spend the night with the Scourge," she finally said.

They found a copse of reasonably sturdy trees and made a camp. They carefully loosened Rhokk’s bonds so that he could move a little and use his hands. Barraccus expected him to try and break free, but he sat still while they did it. He still refused to look at either of them and ignored the food they offered, until finally Barraccus left it sitting on the ground near him. When he looked back later, Rhokk hadn’t changed his position but the food was gone.

Two days later, Barraccus was at his wit’s end. Rhokk still would not acknowledge either of them. He did eat the food they gave him, but not until they left him alone. Crison was also out of patience, and suggested in a bit of temper that if Rhokk wanted to duke it out, she was more than ready. Finally Barraccus had enough. “I don’t know what else to do here. I think we should take him to Alanon. Maybe he can do something.” Crison agreed. “How are we going to get him there, though?” she asked. “I have another mount at Southshore," Barraccus told her. "Until we get there, we can take turns on yours, and Rhokk can ride mine. He’s steady enough.” “Alright then,” she replied. “Let’s get going.”

They wound up tying Rhokk to the saddle on Barraccus’ deathcharger. “I am sorry about this, Rhokk,” he said quietly. “I wish you would let us help you.” The draenei ignored him, and Barraccus sighed. They headed out, with Barraccus leading his charger by the reins. As they traveled, the death knights tried to make small talk in the hope that Rhokk might respond to something. “Does your charger have a name?” Crison asked Barraccus at one point. He turned to look at it while they walked. “Not yet,” he finally replied. “But I have an idea.” He didn’t elaborate, and after a few minutes Crison changed the subject.

That night after they made camp, Barraccus crouched down next to where Rhokk was sitting against a tree. The shaman turned his head away, not quite hiding the rage and hate in his eyes. Barraccus just looked at him sadly. "He did this to you, didn't he?" he whispered, just loud enough for Rhokk to hear. "Arthas is in your head somehow. I just hope we're not too late, and Alanon can help you." Rhokk stirred a little at that. "Don't say his name, murderer!" he whispered back hoarsely. Barraccus looked at him curiously, but the draenei had gone back to ignoring him, and he finally left him to go find his bedroll.

They reached Southshore just a couple days later, and Barraccus immediately went to the stable master to fetch Oscor. He saddled the saber quickly and transferred the packs over, then they set off toward home.