Next installment! Here is Alanon's first, finest, and last, which was surprisingly easy to write. Lark's will be done eventually, I hope- I have most of it thought out, just need to actually write the darn thing. But anyways, enjoy!
____________
His first was one Elliea Whispertree, not Jaryla as his family commonly thought. It was on one of their numerous pilgrimages to visit the World Tree Nordrassil, when they had camped for the night and she had lured him away into the surrounding forest. It had been quick, quiet, and fairly pleasant, and then promptly forgotten by both parties once they were back among the other Kaldorei. He'd told Jaryla what happened, of course- they told each other everything- but allowed everyone else to remain in their ignorance. He'd lost track of what happened to Elliea, but thought that she was most likely dead by now.
His first happened while he was still little more than a stripling just out of training, as unexpected as it was difficult. He and his companions had been tracking a rogue band of satyrs and come across where the demons had found a camp of lumberers. The lone survivor was found in a collapsed tent. He was unresponsive, gone out of his mind after seeing his friends tortured and murdered in front of him. The others gave him up as a lost cause, yet Alanon had stayed with the man as the rest tracked down and dispatched the satyrs. Healing the man's physical injuries was simple enough; healing the wounds to his spirit proved nearly impossible. But three days later, when his companions returned to find the man still grieving but sane, the looks on their faces was all he needed to know that he'd found his life's calling.
His first had been names out of legend- Cenarius, Ysera, Malfurion. Alanon was just one druidic student among many, trying to learn all he could as fast as he could. He'd thought at first that his path was forced upon him, because males simply did not become priests, but it didn't take him long to realize that being a druid was everything that he could ever want and more. He had devoted the rest of his life to simply do the best he could to make those teachers proud.
Jaryla Shadowleaf was his finest, no doubt. Too alike in some ways and too different in others, they weren't suited to be mates or lovers- but they managed to take being "just friends" and turn it into an art form. Their travels took them worlds apart at times, but that never bothered either of them. They knew that home was waiting whenever they next met.
There were many that he could consider his finest, but he would choose Shaurria by virtue of being his most recent. She was already on her way to healing when he arrived, but he saw no problems in helping the process along. Now, whenever he watched the once-shy youngster unshift to speak to a total stranger... when he saw her smile or heard her bright laughter... whenever she called him An'da... he knew that whatever anyone else might say, he'd done a fine job with her.
His finest was hard to define. It spoke to him through the wind in the trees; it whispered to him in the grasses. At times it would shout at him through the storm's thunder, or the rumble of the earth below. It could be called Nature, that's what most people would name it as anyway. He preferred to simply call it Balance.
His last had been Arien in a stolen moment when Kal had been late to come home. He knew full well what it meant for a Kaldorei to love a human- he'd seen it already too many times to count. But she filled the empty places in him that nothing else could touch, and he knew that no matter when she was taken from him- or he from her, which was after all just as likely- he could truthfully say that he had no regrets.
His last was technically still a work in progress, but Alanon felt sure that the worgen Rheugan would find his full healing in time. Yet another youngster thrown into a war before he was ready, he had been a challenge every moment Alanon had spent with him. The scars were there, some likely permanent, but Alanon knew he would not give up. Healing was in his blood- physical, spiritual, psychological, they were all the same to him.
His last was his first, his finest, and his only. The thrum of life that filled and surrounded every living being, the balance that kept them all moving smoothly through this universe. After ten thousand years he was still going strong, and he had every intention of serving the world's balance, to the very best of his ability, until the last breath was gone from his body.
Showing posts with label IC:Alanon. Show all posts
Showing posts with label IC:Alanon. Show all posts
Thursday, January 12, 2012
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
Pitch: Lost
I really don't know where this came from.Well, okay, maybe I do, but it's a long story. *Deep breath*
I never really intended for Lark and Pitch to be anything other than just friends. Just goes to show how little control I really have over my characters, right? The main thing is actually Pitch. He simply never does anything by halves- he'd rather go all the way. This wasn't a problem when he was chasing after Skyborne, but when Sky kind of took herself out of the picture, there was only Pitch and Lark left.
Really, I should have known it was coming.
Lark loves Pitch, really, but she's already lost so many people she's loved that it's become old stuff for her. If Pitch dies, she'll mourn for him (and hard), but then she will simply pick up what's left and get on with her life. But then I started thinking.... what if the opposite happens?
Lark is Pitch's first love. Oh, he's had a mate before (long story that I have no intention of writing, sorry), but that relationship didn't have much to do with love. With Lark, though, every now and then he will surprise me with how deep his feelings really are. She is his mate, his partner, and his love. He gives her everything he's got.
More simply, he's not going by halves.
So if anything ever happened to Lark, I really wasn't sure what he'd do. Go crazy? Go feral? Or maybe just deal with it and move on, like Lark herself would do. I apparently was in a morbid mood today (let's kill off one of my main characters and see what the other one does, muahaha- kidding), and I did eventually finish the whole story.
Which was fairly awesome, because I've been in such a slump lately. >_<
So what would Pitch do if Lark died? Read on and find out.
***Disclaimer***
I AM NOT KILLING OFF ANY OF MY TOONS.
So don't worry about that. This is strictly a "what-if".
That being said, I will warn you that I had to make myself stop thinking about it a few times, because I was about ready to break down bawling in the middle of the aisle at work. You might want to grab a kleenex.
__________________
It was a beautiful day. The air was rain-washed and clean, the worst of the storm having passed. A few threatening-looking clouds still hung in the sky, but above them the sky was clear and blue. Pitch circled around Lark's gryphon, then did a few flips. He followed them up with an attempt at a backwards flip, but wound up having to catch himself after nearly falling out of the air. Lark laughed at him from her gryphon's saddle, and he laughed with her, unable to be angry or upset on such a perfect day.
The wind picked up, scudding a few of the clouds across the sky. Lark's grin dropped. "Maybe we should head back," she said doubtfully. Pitch did a bird-shrug. "Race you," he offered, then took off, his wings sweeping him along furiously. He barely heard her indignant "Hey!" as she sent her mount after him. Grinning to himself, he looked back over his shoulder.
The lightning came out of nowhere, the accompanying thunder crashing around them. For one brief, horrible instant Lark and her mount were lit up like a Winter Veil tree. Then, as Pitch watched, frozen with shock, they plummeted out of the sky. One of Lark's hands lifted as she fell, as if she were reaching for him. Her expression had no fear or pain, only a terrible surprise. Pitch abruptly found both his voice and his will to move. "No! LARK!!" he screamed, then folded his wings and dove after them.
It took him a couple minutes to find where they landed. Finally he spotted the gold-and-white mound of blowing feathers and fur and came winging over to the fallen gryphon. Lark lay near her mount. Pitch unshifted a few feet short of the ground and fell, scrambling to her side once he hit the ground. She lay motionless, the surprised expression still frozen on her face. "Lark," he whispered in disbelief, gently touching her shoulder. Then, as the full realization of what had happened dawned on him, he grabbed her and shook her, hard. "Lark, no!" There was no response. Feeling like the world had suddenly decided to crush him like a bug, Pitch gently cradled her head in both hands, then bent over her body and began sobbing.
Hours later, dry as the desert and worn as an old rag, he changed to cat and curled himself around her. As night fell and the rain started again, gentler this time, his mind mercifully fled down into darkness.
* * * * * *
She came to him in the darkness, smiling, but with a touch of sadness. He couldn't think of why she should be sad. Before he could say a word, she was kneeling at his side. "I'm so sorry, Pitch," she said softly. "I was so sure you would be the first one taken. I never wanted to leave you alone."
He reached up to touch her face. "Alone?" he asked, slightly confused. Some part of his mind was trying to tell him that this was all wrong, that she wasn't really here, but he refused to listen. "But-"
"Pitch," she interrupted gently. "I want you to promise me something, babe." She waited for his nod before continuing. "Promise me you'll go on. Don't let yourself pine away just because of me."
He blinked at her. "Lark, I-"
She interrupted him again, this time with a finger on his lips. "We're here, and we're alone," she said softly. "Let's enjoy this night together, hey?" She kissed him then, and he let himself forget everything else. There was only her.
* * * * * *
Waking was a cruelty beyond imagining.
Pitch sat and stared at his dead mate, the morning breeze ruffling his muddy fur. His mind and body felt numb. He couldn't make himself think beyond each particular moment. He didn't want to live without her.
Finally he stood and began walking. After a few dozen steps the walk turned into a run. He didn't look back.
* * * * * *
Alanon knelt next to Lark's body, closing her eyes as he offered a brief prayer to Elune. He scanned the ground, finally spotting the tracks of a large cat heading off into the distance. He sighed, suddenly feeling every one of his ten-thousand-something years.
The air shimmered in front of him, and suddenly Komah was standing there. Alanon blinked in surprise. The spirit-cat was several times larger now, his eyes and markings glowing fiercely. The druid suddenly understood what was happening and bowed his head to the loa-creature.
He heard a faint chuckle in his mind. None of that, please. Alanon raised his head to look the cat in the eyes. "So this is it, then," he stated, rather than asked.
Komah nodded. She was good to me, and I'll remember her always, but my mate's debt is paid and my time with her is now over, he said simply.
Alanon quirked an eyebrow. "That's it? No grief, no tears?"
The cat gave him a look of mild reproach. I am not a person. We don't do things the same as you. I will mourn her in my own way. Do not think to judge me, druid.
Alanon bowed his head again in apology. Then he looked up, a new thought crossing his mind. "And Pitch? Do you know where he's gone?"
The loa blinked at him slowly. Finally, He said he was going home. With that, Komah turned away from the druid and faded away.
Alanon sat where he was for a little longer. Then he levered himself to his feet and changed to a bird, heading back towards Stormwind. The rest needed to hear what had happened before he set off after Pitch.
* * * * * *
His sisters and Windstar took the news about how he had expected. Shaurria, of course, was the hardest hit. She dissolved into sniffles, sitting back a little away from the group. Loren was no better. The young druid simply sat in shock, eyes wide but unseeing. Windstar and Jahira sat on either side of him, trying to provide reassurance.
Kel was the first to speak. "Now what do we do?" she asked her brother.
Alanon sighed. "I have to go after him, there's no question of that. But I have to go alone." He looked at the others firmly. "We have no idea what he's feeling like right now, and I want to take no chances."
The others agreed, Kel grudgingly, and he turned to go. He hadn't gone far when he became aware of Shaur dogging his heels. He looked at her sternly and opened his mouth, but she gave him a look of mute appeal, and what he had intended to say died in his throat. He turned and went on, permitting her to follow.
* * * * * *
Ashenvale was much changed from its "glory days," as the humans liked to call it, but it was still home. Alanon kept his hope buried deep as they approached the weathered house. Pitch may have moved on by now, or he could be in no shape for them to be safe around him, but he was Alanon's brother. He had to try to do something.
There was no sign of the druid around the house, and Alanon felt his heart sinking when he finally spotted a dark shape at the edge of the clearing. Pitch was sitting still and silent, his tail curled around his feet, looking out into the trees. Shaur gave a wordless cry and launched herself at him before Alanon could stop her, but all Pitch did was turn to nuzzle her as she threw her arms around him. Alanon approached more slowly.
"Shaur," he said quietly. "I know how you feel, but I need to have a word with him, okay? In private." The little druid nodded as she wiped her face, then turned cat and trotted back to the house. Alanon sat down next to Pitch.
Pitch spoke up softly before Alanon could say a word. "I see her in my dreams. I can still feel her next to me." He turned to look at him briefly before returning his attention to the forest. "How do you deal with it?"
Alanon was glad that he still spoke clearly, and he at least sounded sane. He answered slowly. "You remember the good parts. The bad parts will come as well, but they will stop eventually. And then... the good parts won't hurt as much, and you'll know you're on the way to healing."
Pitch took a deep, shuddering breath. "Do me a favor, brother," he said softly. "Take care of Loren for me. And don't come looking for me, or let anyone else try. If I'm able, I will come find you."
Alanon didn't like the sound of what he was saying. "If you're able? Pitch..."
Pitch turned to look at him again, and Alanon felt his heart fall at the sight. Pitch's eyes were empty of everything but pain, balancing barely on this side of madness. Then Alanon saw something else, and his blood turned cold. Something else looked at him through Pitch's eyes, something feral and wild. He realized that Pitch had released the cat.
"Pitch, no," he whispered. "Don't do this."
Whatever sanity was left in Pitch's eyes was slipping away, even as he watched. "I don't really care, Alanon," he replied. "I don't want to live anymore, not without her. Maybe with time that will change, but for now this is the only way."
"Pitch, please," Alanon said desperately. "You know what they'll do if they-"
Pitch stood up abruptly, cutting off the rest of the sentence. "Goodbye, Alanon," he said. "Gods willing, I will see you again someday." He started trotting, heading into the deep woods.
Alanon watched him go. "Goodbye, little brother," he whispered, although he was no longer sure if it was his brother he was speaking to. "Elune guide your path." He felt Shaurria come up to stand beside him, and they both watched the big black cat as he disappeared into the trees.
Shaurria broke the silence. "Should we go after him?"
Alanon was silent for a long minute. Finally he shook his head. "We can't help him, little one," he told her. "He needs to do this himself." He put one arm around her and started guiding her back to the house. "Come, let's go home."
* * * * * *
The cat was free- really, truly free- for the first time in its existence. It hunted when it was hungry, slept or wandered when it was not. It guarded the territory it had staked out, driving out the rival predators it found. Sometimes, rarely, it remembered the elf it had once been. But the elf had been hurt badly, and had gone into hiding to wait for healing. He rarely bothered the cat, so it was able to do as it wished.
Everything was not perfect, of course. On occasion invaders came to the cat's realm, sometimes stopping to hunt and sometimes simply passing straight through. Not animals, though- people. The cat would watch them, angry at the intrusion. It wanted to attack them, to drive them off or kill them, but something held it back each time, so it only watched until they left.
And sometimes the cat had dreams of another elf, a female with a pretty face and laughing eyes. But the dreams were... painful, so the cat shied away from them.
Someday, maybe, the dreams wouldn't hurt so much, and then things would change. The elf might return, and then they would go back. But such things were beyond the cat's comprehension, so overall, it was fairly happy. It hunted, and slept, and wandered, throughout the Ashenvale forest.
_______________
For anyone wondering, Loren is Pitch and Lark's son. Yes, I know she's supposed to be barren, but there is actually some RP starting soon (I hope) that may change that. So since this would be in the unspecified future anyway, I figured that it would have worked. Hence Loren.
And naturally he would be a druid. His father and half his aunts/uncles are all druids, so why not?
I never really intended for Lark and Pitch to be anything other than just friends. Just goes to show how little control I really have over my characters, right? The main thing is actually Pitch. He simply never does anything by halves- he'd rather go all the way. This wasn't a problem when he was chasing after Skyborne, but when Sky kind of took herself out of the picture, there was only Pitch and Lark left.
Really, I should have known it was coming.
Lark loves Pitch, really, but she's already lost so many people she's loved that it's become old stuff for her. If Pitch dies, she'll mourn for him (and hard), but then she will simply pick up what's left and get on with her life. But then I started thinking.... what if the opposite happens?
Lark is Pitch's first love. Oh, he's had a mate before (long story that I have no intention of writing, sorry), but that relationship didn't have much to do with love. With Lark, though, every now and then he will surprise me with how deep his feelings really are. She is his mate, his partner, and his love. He gives her everything he's got.
More simply, he's not going by halves.
So if anything ever happened to Lark, I really wasn't sure what he'd do. Go crazy? Go feral? Or maybe just deal with it and move on, like Lark herself would do. I apparently was in a morbid mood today (let's kill off one of my main characters and see what the other one does, muahaha- kidding), and I did eventually finish the whole story.
Which was fairly awesome, because I've been in such a slump lately. >_<
So what would Pitch do if Lark died? Read on and find out.
***Disclaimer***
I AM NOT KILLING OFF ANY OF MY TOONS.
So don't worry about that. This is strictly a "what-if".
That being said, I will warn you that I had to make myself stop thinking about it a few times, because I was about ready to break down bawling in the middle of the aisle at work. You might want to grab a kleenex.
__________________
It was a beautiful day. The air was rain-washed and clean, the worst of the storm having passed. A few threatening-looking clouds still hung in the sky, but above them the sky was clear and blue. Pitch circled around Lark's gryphon, then did a few flips. He followed them up with an attempt at a backwards flip, but wound up having to catch himself after nearly falling out of the air. Lark laughed at him from her gryphon's saddle, and he laughed with her, unable to be angry or upset on such a perfect day.
The wind picked up, scudding a few of the clouds across the sky. Lark's grin dropped. "Maybe we should head back," she said doubtfully. Pitch did a bird-shrug. "Race you," he offered, then took off, his wings sweeping him along furiously. He barely heard her indignant "Hey!" as she sent her mount after him. Grinning to himself, he looked back over his shoulder.
The lightning came out of nowhere, the accompanying thunder crashing around them. For one brief, horrible instant Lark and her mount were lit up like a Winter Veil tree. Then, as Pitch watched, frozen with shock, they plummeted out of the sky. One of Lark's hands lifted as she fell, as if she were reaching for him. Her expression had no fear or pain, only a terrible surprise. Pitch abruptly found both his voice and his will to move. "No! LARK!!" he screamed, then folded his wings and dove after them.
It took him a couple minutes to find where they landed. Finally he spotted the gold-and-white mound of blowing feathers and fur and came winging over to the fallen gryphon. Lark lay near her mount. Pitch unshifted a few feet short of the ground and fell, scrambling to her side once he hit the ground. She lay motionless, the surprised expression still frozen on her face. "Lark," he whispered in disbelief, gently touching her shoulder. Then, as the full realization of what had happened dawned on him, he grabbed her and shook her, hard. "Lark, no!" There was no response. Feeling like the world had suddenly decided to crush him like a bug, Pitch gently cradled her head in both hands, then bent over her body and began sobbing.
Hours later, dry as the desert and worn as an old rag, he changed to cat and curled himself around her. As night fell and the rain started again, gentler this time, his mind mercifully fled down into darkness.
* * * * * *
She came to him in the darkness, smiling, but with a touch of sadness. He couldn't think of why she should be sad. Before he could say a word, she was kneeling at his side. "I'm so sorry, Pitch," she said softly. "I was so sure you would be the first one taken. I never wanted to leave you alone."
He reached up to touch her face. "Alone?" he asked, slightly confused. Some part of his mind was trying to tell him that this was all wrong, that she wasn't really here, but he refused to listen. "But-"
"Pitch," she interrupted gently. "I want you to promise me something, babe." She waited for his nod before continuing. "Promise me you'll go on. Don't let yourself pine away just because of me."
He blinked at her. "Lark, I-"
She interrupted him again, this time with a finger on his lips. "We're here, and we're alone," she said softly. "Let's enjoy this night together, hey?" She kissed him then, and he let himself forget everything else. There was only her.
* * * * * *
Waking was a cruelty beyond imagining.
Pitch sat and stared at his dead mate, the morning breeze ruffling his muddy fur. His mind and body felt numb. He couldn't make himself think beyond each particular moment. He didn't want to live without her.
Finally he stood and began walking. After a few dozen steps the walk turned into a run. He didn't look back.
* * * * * *
Alanon knelt next to Lark's body, closing her eyes as he offered a brief prayer to Elune. He scanned the ground, finally spotting the tracks of a large cat heading off into the distance. He sighed, suddenly feeling every one of his ten-thousand-something years.
The air shimmered in front of him, and suddenly Komah was standing there. Alanon blinked in surprise. The spirit-cat was several times larger now, his eyes and markings glowing fiercely. The druid suddenly understood what was happening and bowed his head to the loa-creature.
He heard a faint chuckle in his mind. None of that, please. Alanon raised his head to look the cat in the eyes. "So this is it, then," he stated, rather than asked.
Komah nodded. She was good to me, and I'll remember her always, but my mate's debt is paid and my time with her is now over, he said simply.
Alanon quirked an eyebrow. "That's it? No grief, no tears?"
The cat gave him a look of mild reproach. I am not a person. We don't do things the same as you. I will mourn her in my own way. Do not think to judge me, druid.
Alanon bowed his head again in apology. Then he looked up, a new thought crossing his mind. "And Pitch? Do you know where he's gone?"
The loa blinked at him slowly. Finally, He said he was going home. With that, Komah turned away from the druid and faded away.
Alanon sat where he was for a little longer. Then he levered himself to his feet and changed to a bird, heading back towards Stormwind. The rest needed to hear what had happened before he set off after Pitch.
* * * * * *
His sisters and Windstar took the news about how he had expected. Shaurria, of course, was the hardest hit. She dissolved into sniffles, sitting back a little away from the group. Loren was no better. The young druid simply sat in shock, eyes wide but unseeing. Windstar and Jahira sat on either side of him, trying to provide reassurance.
Kel was the first to speak. "Now what do we do?" she asked her brother.
Alanon sighed. "I have to go after him, there's no question of that. But I have to go alone." He looked at the others firmly. "We have no idea what he's feeling like right now, and I want to take no chances."
The others agreed, Kel grudgingly, and he turned to go. He hadn't gone far when he became aware of Shaur dogging his heels. He looked at her sternly and opened his mouth, but she gave him a look of mute appeal, and what he had intended to say died in his throat. He turned and went on, permitting her to follow.
* * * * * *
Ashenvale was much changed from its "glory days," as the humans liked to call it, but it was still home. Alanon kept his hope buried deep as they approached the weathered house. Pitch may have moved on by now, or he could be in no shape for them to be safe around him, but he was Alanon's brother. He had to try to do something.
There was no sign of the druid around the house, and Alanon felt his heart sinking when he finally spotted a dark shape at the edge of the clearing. Pitch was sitting still and silent, his tail curled around his feet, looking out into the trees. Shaur gave a wordless cry and launched herself at him before Alanon could stop her, but all Pitch did was turn to nuzzle her as she threw her arms around him. Alanon approached more slowly.
"Shaur," he said quietly. "I know how you feel, but I need to have a word with him, okay? In private." The little druid nodded as she wiped her face, then turned cat and trotted back to the house. Alanon sat down next to Pitch.
Pitch spoke up softly before Alanon could say a word. "I see her in my dreams. I can still feel her next to me." He turned to look at him briefly before returning his attention to the forest. "How do you deal with it?"
Alanon was glad that he still spoke clearly, and he at least sounded sane. He answered slowly. "You remember the good parts. The bad parts will come as well, but they will stop eventually. And then... the good parts won't hurt as much, and you'll know you're on the way to healing."
Pitch took a deep, shuddering breath. "Do me a favor, brother," he said softly. "Take care of Loren for me. And don't come looking for me, or let anyone else try. If I'm able, I will come find you."
Alanon didn't like the sound of what he was saying. "If you're able? Pitch..."
Pitch turned to look at him again, and Alanon felt his heart fall at the sight. Pitch's eyes were empty of everything but pain, balancing barely on this side of madness. Then Alanon saw something else, and his blood turned cold. Something else looked at him through Pitch's eyes, something feral and wild. He realized that Pitch had released the cat.
"Pitch, no," he whispered. "Don't do this."
Whatever sanity was left in Pitch's eyes was slipping away, even as he watched. "I don't really care, Alanon," he replied. "I don't want to live anymore, not without her. Maybe with time that will change, but for now this is the only way."
"Pitch, please," Alanon said desperately. "You know what they'll do if they-"
Pitch stood up abruptly, cutting off the rest of the sentence. "Goodbye, Alanon," he said. "Gods willing, I will see you again someday." He started trotting, heading into the deep woods.
Alanon watched him go. "Goodbye, little brother," he whispered, although he was no longer sure if it was his brother he was speaking to. "Elune guide your path." He felt Shaurria come up to stand beside him, and they both watched the big black cat as he disappeared into the trees.
Shaurria broke the silence. "Should we go after him?"
Alanon was silent for a long minute. Finally he shook his head. "We can't help him, little one," he told her. "He needs to do this himself." He put one arm around her and started guiding her back to the house. "Come, let's go home."
* * * * * *
The cat was free- really, truly free- for the first time in its existence. It hunted when it was hungry, slept or wandered when it was not. It guarded the territory it had staked out, driving out the rival predators it found. Sometimes, rarely, it remembered the elf it had once been. But the elf had been hurt badly, and had gone into hiding to wait for healing. He rarely bothered the cat, so it was able to do as it wished.
Everything was not perfect, of course. On occasion invaders came to the cat's realm, sometimes stopping to hunt and sometimes simply passing straight through. Not animals, though- people. The cat would watch them, angry at the intrusion. It wanted to attack them, to drive them off or kill them, but something held it back each time, so it only watched until they left.
And sometimes the cat had dreams of another elf, a female with a pretty face and laughing eyes. But the dreams were... painful, so the cat shied away from them.
Someday, maybe, the dreams wouldn't hurt so much, and then things would change. The elf might return, and then they would go back. But such things were beyond the cat's comprehension, so overall, it was fairly happy. It hunted, and slept, and wandered, throughout the Ashenvale forest.
_______________
For anyone wondering, Loren is Pitch and Lark's son. Yes, I know she's supposed to be barren, but there is actually some RP starting soon (I hope) that may change that. So since this would be in the unspecified future anyway, I figured that it would have worked. Hence Loren.
And naturally he would be a druid. His father and half his aunts/uncles are all druids, so why not?
Wednesday, December 22, 2010
Pitch: Rheugan
I mentioned that my worgen druid Rheugan was going to get into some RP soon, mostly with Pitch. A few nights ago (last week I think?) I finally got the ball rolling.
Also, my sister's druid Jahira? Is awesome. Just saying.
___________________
Jahira purrs at Pitchblàck.
Pitchblàck says: Hello! It's a nice tree, isn't it?
Alanón says: It is
Alanón says: Pitch, I have something to tell you
Jahira looks.
Pitchblàck says: ... and you don't think I'll like it, otherwise you wouldn't have brought my sister
Jahira blinks at Pitchblàck.
Pitchblàck eyes Jahira.
Jahira says: And why would you think that?
Alanón looks a tad uncomfortable.
Pitchblàck says: Because that's what he always does
Jahira says: Maybe I just wanted to come see the place my brother spends so much time?
Pitchblàck turns to eye Alanon.
Alanón says: I did ask her to come, yes
Pitchblàck says: See? So spill it
Alanón sighs at Pitch.
Windstar pricks her ears at the voices, blinking sleepily.
Alanón says: I was called back to Darnassus recently, for a meeting of the Circle
Pitchblàck blinks at Alanón.
Jahira starts spine-scritching.
Pitchblàck says: I thought they were pretending you don't exist?
Pitchblàck stretches a bit and starts purring.
Alanón says: They were, which is why I went. I wanted to see what they were up to
Pitchblàck nods.
Alanón says: You know of the worgen that we've recently welcomed into the Circle?
Pitchblàck says: Yes
Pitchblàck looks curious.
Alanón says: They.... have a special case on their hands
Alanón is beginning to look -very- uncomfortable.
Pitchblàck eyes Alanón suspiciously.
Pitchblàck says: .....and?
Autûmn glances at the druids on the railing.
Alanón says: Pitch....They have a feral worgen
Pitchblàck scowls, but listens.
Alanón says: He, ahh...
Alanón glances around the room. "He attacked one of the companion sabers and killed it."
Jahira winces slightly.
Alanón says: From what I understand, it was a dispute over dominance. When the guards interceded he turned on them. One of them was hurt badly. They don't know what to do-
Pitchblàck interrupts. "No."
Pitchblàck says: I won't do it. Not again
Alanón says: Pitch...
Pitchblàck says: NO!
Jahira says: Pitch...
Pitchblàck says: I TOLD you! Never again!
Jahira says: Please
Alanón says: Pitch listen to me!
Jahira says: Let him finish
Pitchblàck glares angrily at Alanón.
Alanón says: They don't want you to kill him
Pitchblàck blinks at Alanón.
Windstar raises her head, looking slightly alarmed.
Pitchblàck says: They.... don't?
Alanón says: They want to see if you can help him. I told a few of them your story, years ago
Pitchblàck blinks again.
Alanón says: They think his case is similar. They want you to try mentoring him
Pitchblàck looks like he's forgotten to breathe. "And if... I can't help?"
Alanón says: Then they will.... deal.. with him. You need not be involved with it
Jahira puts a reassuring hand on Pitch's shoulder.
Alanón says: But they would like to try to save him first
Pitchblàck says: I... What do they want me to do?
Alanón says: He's being held in Darnassus. Not in a cage.
Pitchblàck starts to glare but stops. "Mkay."
Alanón says: He is held in a room in an inn. Still a prison, but he's being treated as a person
Windstar peeks out from her 'den'.
Alanón says: It would probably be best if you met with him as soon as possible
Pitchblàck says: Mkay. I'll try to get over there in a day or two
Jahira smiles, looking relieved.
Alanón says: Thank you, Pitch
Alanón looks immensely relieved.
Pitchblàck eyes Alanón.
Pitchblàck says: Do you know anything else about him?
Alanón says: His name is Rheugan
Jahira starts spine-scratching again.
Alanón says: He is in his early twenties, so comparably about your age
Pitchblàck nods.
Alanón says: He apparently ran wild for a time before he became a druid .... as a wolf
Pitchblàck pricks his ears.
Pitchblàck says: So he was a worgen first
Alanón nods.
Alanón says: You can ask him about it when you meet him
Windstar is shamelessly eavesdropping.
Pitchblàck says: Mkay
Alanón says: I have to go, but I think I saw Lark heading this way
Pitchblàck brightens.
Pitchblàck says: Mkay. See you later, big brother
Alanón ruffles Pitchblàck's fur.
Alanón says: Good evening, little brother
Jahira says: Goodnight Alanon
Also, my sister's druid Jahira? Is awesome. Just saying.
___________________
Jahira purrs at Pitchblàck.
Pitchblàck says: Hello! It's a nice tree, isn't it?
Alanón says: It is
Alanón says: Pitch, I have something to tell you
Jahira looks.
Pitchblàck says: ... and you don't think I'll like it, otherwise you wouldn't have brought my sister
Jahira blinks at Pitchblàck.
Pitchblàck eyes Jahira.
Jahira says: And why would you think that?
Alanón looks a tad uncomfortable.
Pitchblàck says: Because that's what he always does
Jahira says: Maybe I just wanted to come see the place my brother spends so much time?
Pitchblàck turns to eye Alanon.
Alanón says: I did ask her to come, yes
Pitchblàck says: See? So spill it
Alanón sighs at Pitch.
Windstar pricks her ears at the voices, blinking sleepily.
Alanón says: I was called back to Darnassus recently, for a meeting of the Circle
Pitchblàck blinks at Alanón.
Jahira starts spine-scritching.
Pitchblàck says: I thought they were pretending you don't exist?
Pitchblàck stretches a bit and starts purring.
Alanón says: They were, which is why I went. I wanted to see what they were up to
Pitchblàck nods.
Alanón says: You know of the worgen that we've recently welcomed into the Circle?
Pitchblàck says: Yes
Pitchblàck looks curious.
Alanón says: They.... have a special case on their hands
Alanón is beginning to look -very- uncomfortable.
Pitchblàck eyes Alanón suspiciously.
Pitchblàck says: .....and?
Autûmn glances at the druids on the railing.
Alanón says: Pitch....They have a feral worgen
Pitchblàck scowls, but listens.
Alanón says: He, ahh...
Alanón glances around the room. "He attacked one of the companion sabers and killed it."
Jahira winces slightly.
Alanón says: From what I understand, it was a dispute over dominance. When the guards interceded he turned on them. One of them was hurt badly. They don't know what to do-
Pitchblàck interrupts. "No."
Pitchblàck says: I won't do it. Not again
Alanón says: Pitch...
Pitchblàck says: NO!
Jahira says: Pitch...
Pitchblàck says: I TOLD you! Never again!
Jahira says: Please
Alanón says: Pitch listen to me!
Jahira says: Let him finish
Pitchblàck glares angrily at Alanón.
Alanón says: They don't want you to kill him
Pitchblàck blinks at Alanón.
Windstar raises her head, looking slightly alarmed.
Pitchblàck says: They.... don't?
Alanón says: They want to see if you can help him. I told a few of them your story, years ago
Pitchblàck blinks again.
Alanón says: They think his case is similar. They want you to try mentoring him
Pitchblàck looks like he's forgotten to breathe. "And if... I can't help?"
Alanón says: Then they will.... deal.. with him. You need not be involved with it
Jahira puts a reassuring hand on Pitch's shoulder.
Alanón says: But they would like to try to save him first
Pitchblàck says: I... What do they want me to do?
Alanón says: He's being held in Darnassus. Not in a cage.
Pitchblàck starts to glare but stops. "Mkay."
Alanón says: He is held in a room in an inn. Still a prison, but he's being treated as a person
Windstar peeks out from her 'den'.
Alanón says: It would probably be best if you met with him as soon as possible
Pitchblàck says: Mkay. I'll try to get over there in a day or two
Jahira smiles, looking relieved.
Alanón says: Thank you, Pitch
Alanón looks immensely relieved.
Pitchblàck eyes Alanón.
Pitchblàck says: Do you know anything else about him?
Alanón says: His name is Rheugan
Jahira starts spine-scratching again.
Alanón says: He is in his early twenties, so comparably about your age
Pitchblàck nods.
Alanón says: He apparently ran wild for a time before he became a druid .... as a wolf
Pitchblàck pricks his ears.
Pitchblàck says: So he was a worgen first
Alanón nods.
Alanón says: You can ask him about it when you meet him
Windstar is shamelessly eavesdropping.
Pitchblàck says: Mkay
Alanón says: I have to go, but I think I saw Lark heading this way
Pitchblàck brightens.
Pitchblàck says: Mkay. See you later, big brother
Alanón ruffles Pitchblàck's fur.
Alanón says: Good evening, little brother
Jahira says: Goodnight Alanon
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
Lark: Mending
Lark was sitting on the edge of the Canal, feet hanging down just above the water level, and Quiloe curled up at her back. She didn't look up as the druid approached, but she spoke up when he drew near. "They cleaned the canal up pretty well. I'd almost consider eating the fish from it." Alanon chuckled as he sat down next to her. "Pitch does on occasion. He doesn't do it often, but you know how he is where food is concerned." She eyed him. "Mhmm. So long as he doesn't do it regularly. I may have to stop kissing him if he does."
That brought a laugh from the druid. "I'll pass the warning along," he told her, then grew more serious. "How are you doing?" Lark shrugged. "I'm managing," she said. "It's hard. Getting older doesn't make it any easier, either." "I know," he replied gently.
Lark looked over at him. "How do you manage it?" Alanon raised an eyebrow at her. "Seeing the ones you come to care for dying all around you? How do you do it?" He frowned in thought, staring down into the Canal. "I suppose it's a matter of balance," he said finally. She snorted. "That's not a real answer." He shrugged, still thoughtful. "Druids are balance, no matter what path they follow. I suppose it might be easier for us to understand."
Lark cut in. "Please don't start that mysticism stuff with me right now. I'm not sure if I can handle it." He looked at her for a moment. "I apologize," he said, then hesitated. "Lark..." "Don't." She cut that off too. "I know what you're going to say. Just don't." "You do realize that he loves you," the druid stated softly. She looked away. "I know," she whispered, then shook her head. "It's not any easier on me, I promise you that. It's too soon after Tuah. I can't right now." "I understand," he said.
Quiloe shifted slightly behind Lark, making herself more comfortable. Alanon watched the wolf for a bit, then reached over to scratch her ears. "Would you mind if I told a story?" he asked suddenly. Lark gave him a curious look. "Sure, why not?" He leaned back and closed his eyes, looking thoughtful, then opened them again and began.
"I met my best friend when I was six and she was four," he said. "We literally grew up together, Her name was Jaryla." He paused to look at her sideways. "I thought for the longest time that you and Pitch would wind up like we were." Lark blinked at him. "And that way was...?" He grinned. "Like I said, we were best friends. We shared nearly everything. We were never more than friends, however," He shook his head with a chuckle. "We tried to pair up once, and had to call it off. We were too alike in some ways, and too different in others." "Mhmm," she responded. "So you thought Pitch and I would end up like that?" "Yes," he said. "I should have known my brother better than that, though."
Lark smiled faintly. "He doesn't do things by halves, does he?" Alanon shook his head, then gave her a piercing look. "I know how he feels about you. But do you love him back?"
She stared down into the water. "Yes, I do," she replied quietly. "And it scares me to death." "Why?" he asked. "Because I've seen so many of them die," she told him. "I'm sick of it. If anything happened to him because he's with me..." "And why do you think something will happen? I haven't discovered any curses on you." Lark ignored his attempt at humor; she seemed to be struggling now to keep her composure. "The last time I felt like this about someone, we had two wonderful months together," she said. "Then I had to bury him and watch his pet die slowly, wasting away on his grave."
Alanon gave her a minute to collect herself, then asked her gently, "And it wasn't worth it? Would you have given up on that time you had together, just to have him live?" "Yes!" she cried, her face so full of pain that he very nearly regretted prodding her this way. "I would have, if it meant that he was still alive. And I can do the same for Pitch if I have to." "But he wouldn't settle for that," he said softly. "You know that."
Lark looked away, blinking rapidly several times. Alanon waited a minute before speaking again. "It's rare that we can love someone without getting hurt, whether it happens sooner or later." She looked back at him, her mouth twisting wryly. "Then why love at all?" He actually smiled. "That is something that each person has to answer for themselves. But for me? I would rather love and be hurt, than to never love at all. Not loving is not living. It's one of the things that shows we're alive."
She stared at him, then gave a very faint smile. "I think you would have gotten along famously with Lath. I can't even count the number of times he told me something similar." He cocked his head. "Who is Lath?" Her smile grew a fraction. "Lathenil Skywing, a Claw druid. He was my.. my first real partner. It's been almost five centuries since he died." Alanon frowned slightly. "I think I knew him." She blinked at him. "You knew him?" "Well, knew of him," he corrected. "He was with Jaryla once, briefly, probably right before he met you if I remember correctly." She stared, then dropped her gaze to her hands. "... I never knew what his life was like before we met. I never asked him." She looked back up. "Alanon?" "Hmm?" She hesitated a moment. "Where is Jaryla now?"
He sighed, deeply. "She fell at Hyjal. She and our daughter both." Lark looked down again. "I'm sorry." "It is long past," he said. "The pain is still there, but it's a good pain." That brought a raised eyebrow, and he smiled. "It means that I still remember her. So long as I do, a part of her still lives." Lark gave him a crooked grin. "Definitely sounds like Lath."
His smile faded. "Lark, I try not to ever tell people what to do. But before you decide what to do about your relationship with Pitch, perhaps you should think about what he'd be happy with." She looked down again, then answered, quietly, "I-.. I will." He nodded, then reached over to squeeze her shoulder. "Goodnight Lark," he said, then stood up and left her.
* * * * * *
Pitch brought his new bike to a stop near the fountain. In the sidecar, Lark looked out over the Harbor. "You can't see much of the damage from here," she commented. Pitch grunted, then looked down at her. "So," he said as he broke into a grin. "What do you think of it?" Lark had to grin back; his excitement was contagious. "It's nice, Pitch. But did you let me be the first to ride in it just to get me back into your bed?" He blinked at her. "Uh, no. Really, that wasn't what I was thinking." She laughed at him and he blushed, then grinned. "Although you know, if you'd like to...." She suddenly sobered. "Except that you don't have a bed anymore." He shrugged. "I'll find something. Until I do, the trees aren't all knocked down."
Lark looked down at her hands. "Um, Pitch? Would you... want to move in with me? You can always move out again if you find something better." He stared down at her for a minute; she could feel his eyes. "That'd actually be great," he said finally. "If you're okay with it." She nodded, glancing back up to grin at him crookedly. "I wouldn't have offered if I wasn't, you knucklehead." He chuckled.
They sat in companionable silence for a bit, then Pitch cleared his throat. "Uh, Lark?" "Pitch," she said immediately. "Please don't, babe. Not tonight." He looked at her, then away, out over the Harbor. "All right," was all he said.
He was hurt, though; she knew him well enough to tell. After a moment, she reached up and found his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. He looked down, then grinned and squeezed back. "Want to go see if anyone's at the Pig?" he asked her. She considered, then shrugged. "Why not?" He kicked the bike into gear again, then they headed back into the city.
That brought a laugh from the druid. "I'll pass the warning along," he told her, then grew more serious. "How are you doing?" Lark shrugged. "I'm managing," she said. "It's hard. Getting older doesn't make it any easier, either." "I know," he replied gently.
Lark looked over at him. "How do you manage it?" Alanon raised an eyebrow at her. "Seeing the ones you come to care for dying all around you? How do you do it?" He frowned in thought, staring down into the Canal. "I suppose it's a matter of balance," he said finally. She snorted. "That's not a real answer." He shrugged, still thoughtful. "Druids are balance, no matter what path they follow. I suppose it might be easier for us to understand."
Lark cut in. "Please don't start that mysticism stuff with me right now. I'm not sure if I can handle it." He looked at her for a moment. "I apologize," he said, then hesitated. "Lark..." "Don't." She cut that off too. "I know what you're going to say. Just don't." "You do realize that he loves you," the druid stated softly. She looked away. "I know," she whispered, then shook her head. "It's not any easier on me, I promise you that. It's too soon after Tuah. I can't right now." "I understand," he said.
Quiloe shifted slightly behind Lark, making herself more comfortable. Alanon watched the wolf for a bit, then reached over to scratch her ears. "Would you mind if I told a story?" he asked suddenly. Lark gave him a curious look. "Sure, why not?" He leaned back and closed his eyes, looking thoughtful, then opened them again and began.
"I met my best friend when I was six and she was four," he said. "We literally grew up together, Her name was Jaryla." He paused to look at her sideways. "I thought for the longest time that you and Pitch would wind up like we were." Lark blinked at him. "And that way was...?" He grinned. "Like I said, we were best friends. We shared nearly everything. We were never more than friends, however," He shook his head with a chuckle. "We tried to pair up once, and had to call it off. We were too alike in some ways, and too different in others." "Mhmm," she responded. "So you thought Pitch and I would end up like that?" "Yes," he said. "I should have known my brother better than that, though."
Lark smiled faintly. "He doesn't do things by halves, does he?" Alanon shook his head, then gave her a piercing look. "I know how he feels about you. But do you love him back?"
She stared down into the water. "Yes, I do," she replied quietly. "And it scares me to death." "Why?" he asked. "Because I've seen so many of them die," she told him. "I'm sick of it. If anything happened to him because he's with me..." "And why do you think something will happen? I haven't discovered any curses on you." Lark ignored his attempt at humor; she seemed to be struggling now to keep her composure. "The last time I felt like this about someone, we had two wonderful months together," she said. "Then I had to bury him and watch his pet die slowly, wasting away on his grave."
Alanon gave her a minute to collect herself, then asked her gently, "And it wasn't worth it? Would you have given up on that time you had together, just to have him live?" "Yes!" she cried, her face so full of pain that he very nearly regretted prodding her this way. "I would have, if it meant that he was still alive. And I can do the same for Pitch if I have to." "But he wouldn't settle for that," he said softly. "You know that."
Lark looked away, blinking rapidly several times. Alanon waited a minute before speaking again. "It's rare that we can love someone without getting hurt, whether it happens sooner or later." She looked back at him, her mouth twisting wryly. "Then why love at all?" He actually smiled. "That is something that each person has to answer for themselves. But for me? I would rather love and be hurt, than to never love at all. Not loving is not living. It's one of the things that shows we're alive."
She stared at him, then gave a very faint smile. "I think you would have gotten along famously with Lath. I can't even count the number of times he told me something similar." He cocked his head. "Who is Lath?" Her smile grew a fraction. "Lathenil Skywing, a Claw druid. He was my.. my first real partner. It's been almost five centuries since he died." Alanon frowned slightly. "I think I knew him." She blinked at him. "You knew him?" "Well, knew of him," he corrected. "He was with Jaryla once, briefly, probably right before he met you if I remember correctly." She stared, then dropped her gaze to her hands. "... I never knew what his life was like before we met. I never asked him." She looked back up. "Alanon?" "Hmm?" She hesitated a moment. "Where is Jaryla now?"
He sighed, deeply. "She fell at Hyjal. She and our daughter both." Lark looked down again. "I'm sorry." "It is long past," he said. "The pain is still there, but it's a good pain." That brought a raised eyebrow, and he smiled. "It means that I still remember her. So long as I do, a part of her still lives." Lark gave him a crooked grin. "Definitely sounds like Lath."
His smile faded. "Lark, I try not to ever tell people what to do. But before you decide what to do about your relationship with Pitch, perhaps you should think about what he'd be happy with." She looked down again, then answered, quietly, "I-.. I will." He nodded, then reached over to squeeze her shoulder. "Goodnight Lark," he said, then stood up and left her.
* * * * * *
Pitch brought his new bike to a stop near the fountain. In the sidecar, Lark looked out over the Harbor. "You can't see much of the damage from here," she commented. Pitch grunted, then looked down at her. "So," he said as he broke into a grin. "What do you think of it?" Lark had to grin back; his excitement was contagious. "It's nice, Pitch. But did you let me be the first to ride in it just to get me back into your bed?" He blinked at her. "Uh, no. Really, that wasn't what I was thinking." She laughed at him and he blushed, then grinned. "Although you know, if you'd like to...." She suddenly sobered. "Except that you don't have a bed anymore." He shrugged. "I'll find something. Until I do, the trees aren't all knocked down."
Lark looked down at her hands. "Um, Pitch? Would you... want to move in with me? You can always move out again if you find something better." He stared down at her for a minute; she could feel his eyes. "That'd actually be great," he said finally. "If you're okay with it." She nodded, glancing back up to grin at him crookedly. "I wouldn't have offered if I wasn't, you knucklehead." He chuckled.
They sat in companionable silence for a bit, then Pitch cleared his throat. "Uh, Lark?" "Pitch," she said immediately. "Please don't, babe. Not tonight." He looked at her, then away, out over the Harbor. "All right," was all he said.
He was hurt, though; she knew him well enough to tell. After a moment, she reached up and found his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. He looked down, then grinned and squeezed back. "Want to go see if anyone's at the Pig?" he asked her. She considered, then shrugged. "Why not?" He kicked the bike into gear again, then they headed back into the city.
Sunday, November 14, 2010
Shaurria: Goodbyes
I started thinking this one up, and then I wondered when it would actually occur. Then it hit me- I don't know what might happen with Teldrassil in Cataclysm, so it might be better to do this sooner rather than later. So, when Lark mentioned that Pitch was out of town a couple nights ago? This is what he was doing.
And Shaurria really needed the closure from this anyway. Poor baby.
_____________
Alanon looked up with some surprise as Shaurria came up to where he sat, kneeling in the grass beside him. "C-could we go on a trip?" she asked hesitantly. "We could," he replied, raising a questioning eyebrow at her. "Where would we be going?" Her answer was a whisper, just loud enough to hear. "T-Teldrassil?" Alanon blinked, then set down his notebook and the herb he had been examining. "Shaur," he said gently. "Why do you want to go to Teldrassil?"
She wouldn't meet his eyes; her voice was still soft. "Cause I used t' live there. In Starbreeze." Alanon reached over and gently tilted her chin up, making her finally look at him. "What is it?" he asked her simply. Shaur took a deep breath, seeming to find some courage in the process. Her voice steadied, and she met his eyes squarely. "Long time ago Arvoss asked me if I wanted t' go back home'n say goodbye," she said. "I-.. I think 'm ready." He looked back at her searchingly, then nodded. "I'll get Pitch," he said, then stood up. Shaur reached out to touch his arm. "Just us three," she whispered, and he nodded again.
Pitch met them at the boat to Auberdine. The trip was accomplished in silence, for the most part. Shaurria assumed that Alanon had told Pitch where they were going and why, because the normally garrulous druid didn't say a word. Soon enough they were facing the path that would take them to Starbreeze. They left their mounts there- Shaurria had been adamant about taking Finnall; the white saber could only offer her so much comfort, but he was a comfort all the same.
Shaur stood and stared down the path toward the village for a long time before starting off. A small part of her couldn't believe that she was here, that she was even thinking of going back to her old home, but the rest of her held steady. Thanks to Pitch and his furbolg friends, she no longer thought of the furbolgs as monsters. She knew now that they were simply sick, corrupted, and not truly evil. She still felt a bit surprised each time she realized that she wasn't afraid of them anymore.
Alanon, who was also in his cat form now, touched her shoulder with his nose. Shaur shook herself out of her reverie and started down the path.
She led the way to her old house unerringly, only stopping to make sure the furbolgs were a safe distance away before slipping through the door. Pitch and Alanon waited outside, guarding the door and also giving her some privacy if she needed it.The smallish blue-gray cat stepped through the doorway- and the Night elf entered the house.
She paused to look around. There were no bodies, at least- apparently the local Night elves had found time to clean the village up, although they hadn't done much to chase away the furbolgs. The interior was still a mess, with wrecked furniture, torn books, and broken dishes littering the floor. Suddenly unsure of what to do, Shaur hesitated, then went to the hearth and knelt down.
It had been so long, with so much happening since she had last been here, that she had trouble remembering what the house had looked like while she had lived here. While her parents had been alive. Now there were just dim flickers, half-remembered visions of a happy home with people who loved her.
Finally she just shrugged to herself and started talking, saying whatever came to mind. "I don't know if you can hear me," she began hesitantly. "But I just wanted t' let you know that I'm okay. I... I have people to look out for me now. I'm not alone, so y'don't need to worry about me.
"You'd probably like Pitch and Alanon, and Arvoss, even if he is a death knight. But I guess you wouldn't know what that is, would you? He.. He's real nice. He still looks out for me, even though I live mostly with Alanon now. He's taught me t' be a druid. A real druid, with healing skills'n stuff. He says I'm pretty good at it, though I'll always be a feral first, whatever that means.
"I... I miss you both." Now the tears started, falling fast and thick. She went on with hardly a tremor, though, determined to say what she had to. "I love you, and I'll never, ever forget you. I guess that's what I was afraid of- that if I said m'goodbyes, I'd just forget about you, and I don't want t' do that. But.. You're a part of me, right? So you're always with me in a way. That's how Alanon described it, anyway, and I think he's right.
"I don't know if I'll ever see you again. No one seems t' know what happens when we Night elves die. Th' humans think that they go to be with their "Light", whatever that is, but I don't know if it's th' same for us, or if we just kinda... disappear? But I wanted you t' know that I'm fine, and that I l-love y-you..." Now she finally broke down, burying her face in her arms and sobbing brokenheartedly.
A gentle touch on her shoulder told her she was no longer alone, and she turned to lean into Alanon's arms. He simply held her, making quiet shhing sounds and rocking her gently.
After what seemed like hours, though it was really less than one, Shaur's sobs quieted. She sat up straight, sniffling and rubbing at her nose. Alanon gave her a few minutes more, then lightly squeezed her shoulder. "All done here?" he asked her, and she nodded. They left the house to find Pitch still on guard, and all three druids made their way back to their mounts.
Shaurria was silent as she pulled herself up on Finn's back, then nudged him down the road. Pitch watched her with concern, finally breaking the silence. "You alright, Fuzzy?" It was Alanon who answered. "Yes, little brother," he said quietly. "She's all right." And Shaurria, feeling truly peaceful for the first time in a long, long time, saw no reason to disagree.
And Shaurria really needed the closure from this anyway. Poor baby.
_____________
Alanon looked up with some surprise as Shaurria came up to where he sat, kneeling in the grass beside him. "C-could we go on a trip?" she asked hesitantly. "We could," he replied, raising a questioning eyebrow at her. "Where would we be going?" Her answer was a whisper, just loud enough to hear. "T-Teldrassil?" Alanon blinked, then set down his notebook and the herb he had been examining. "Shaur," he said gently. "Why do you want to go to Teldrassil?"
She wouldn't meet his eyes; her voice was still soft. "Cause I used t' live there. In Starbreeze." Alanon reached over and gently tilted her chin up, making her finally look at him. "What is it?" he asked her simply. Shaur took a deep breath, seeming to find some courage in the process. Her voice steadied, and she met his eyes squarely. "Long time ago Arvoss asked me if I wanted t' go back home'n say goodbye," she said. "I-.. I think 'm ready." He looked back at her searchingly, then nodded. "I'll get Pitch," he said, then stood up. Shaur reached out to touch his arm. "Just us three," she whispered, and he nodded again.
Pitch met them at the boat to Auberdine. The trip was accomplished in silence, for the most part. Shaurria assumed that Alanon had told Pitch where they were going and why, because the normally garrulous druid didn't say a word. Soon enough they were facing the path that would take them to Starbreeze. They left their mounts there- Shaurria had been adamant about taking Finnall; the white saber could only offer her so much comfort, but he was a comfort all the same.
Shaur stood and stared down the path toward the village for a long time before starting off. A small part of her couldn't believe that she was here, that she was even thinking of going back to her old home, but the rest of her held steady. Thanks to Pitch and his furbolg friends, she no longer thought of the furbolgs as monsters. She knew now that they were simply sick, corrupted, and not truly evil. She still felt a bit surprised each time she realized that she wasn't afraid of them anymore.
Alanon, who was also in his cat form now, touched her shoulder with his nose. Shaur shook herself out of her reverie and started down the path.
She led the way to her old house unerringly, only stopping to make sure the furbolgs were a safe distance away before slipping through the door. Pitch and Alanon waited outside, guarding the door and also giving her some privacy if she needed it.The smallish blue-gray cat stepped through the doorway- and the Night elf entered the house.
She paused to look around. There were no bodies, at least- apparently the local Night elves had found time to clean the village up, although they hadn't done much to chase away the furbolgs. The interior was still a mess, with wrecked furniture, torn books, and broken dishes littering the floor. Suddenly unsure of what to do, Shaur hesitated, then went to the hearth and knelt down.
It had been so long, with so much happening since she had last been here, that she had trouble remembering what the house had looked like while she had lived here. While her parents had been alive. Now there were just dim flickers, half-remembered visions of a happy home with people who loved her.
Finally she just shrugged to herself and started talking, saying whatever came to mind. "I don't know if you can hear me," she began hesitantly. "But I just wanted t' let you know that I'm okay. I... I have people to look out for me now. I'm not alone, so y'don't need to worry about me.
"You'd probably like Pitch and Alanon, and Arvoss, even if he is a death knight. But I guess you wouldn't know what that is, would you? He.. He's real nice. He still looks out for me, even though I live mostly with Alanon now. He's taught me t' be a druid. A real druid, with healing skills'n stuff. He says I'm pretty good at it, though I'll always be a feral first, whatever that means.
"I... I miss you both." Now the tears started, falling fast and thick. She went on with hardly a tremor, though, determined to say what she had to. "I love you, and I'll never, ever forget you. I guess that's what I was afraid of- that if I said m'goodbyes, I'd just forget about you, and I don't want t' do that. But.. You're a part of me, right? So you're always with me in a way. That's how Alanon described it, anyway, and I think he's right.
"I don't know if I'll ever see you again. No one seems t' know what happens when we Night elves die. Th' humans think that they go to be with their "Light", whatever that is, but I don't know if it's th' same for us, or if we just kinda... disappear? But I wanted you t' know that I'm fine, and that I l-love y-you..." Now she finally broke down, burying her face in her arms and sobbing brokenheartedly.
A gentle touch on her shoulder told her she was no longer alone, and she turned to lean into Alanon's arms. He simply held her, making quiet shhing sounds and rocking her gently.
After what seemed like hours, though it was really less than one, Shaur's sobs quieted. She sat up straight, sniffling and rubbing at her nose. Alanon gave her a few minutes more, then lightly squeezed her shoulder. "All done here?" he asked her, and she nodded. They left the house to find Pitch still on guard, and all three druids made their way back to their mounts.
Shaurria was silent as she pulled herself up on Finn's back, then nudged him down the road. Pitch watched her with concern, finally breaking the silence. "You alright, Fuzzy?" It was Alanon who answered. "Yes, little brother," he said quietly. "She's all right." And Shaurria, feeling truly peaceful for the first time in a long, long time, saw no reason to disagree.
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
Arvoss and Alanon
I wanted to actually write this up (cause I bet it'd be better that way), but I hate procrastinating and delaying, and it's already late. So, chatlog. :P
Last night at the Pig.
____________________________
Alanón says: Good Evening, Arvoss.
Arvoss grunts. "Elf."
Arvoss says: Shaur's tol' me wha' ye were wantin' t' do.
Alanón says: Good, I hoped she would.
Arvoss says: Didnae say why ye wanted t' do it, though.
Alanón says: She is afraid of the furbolgs because she connects them with the deaths of her parents. It's like... being afraid of the dark, or the boogeyman, or the like.
Alanón says: If we can show her there's nothing really to fear from furbolgs, I'm hoping her fear of them will fade, and then perhaps the rest of her fears as well.
Arvoss grunts again. "S'pose 't makes sense a'righ'."
Arvoss gives a slight chuckle.
Arvoss says: Ye thinkin' o' makin' 'er more normal, eh?
Alanón says: I don't want to change who she is, that's not my intention.
Alanón says: .... but yes, in a way I hope she becomes more... "normal".
Arvoss says: Sae when'r ye goin'?
Alanón says: Tomorrow. We've already waited longer than I intended, and I'd rather not put it off any longer.
Arvoss says: Aye.
Arvoss says: Sae Ah s'pose she'll be stayin' wi' ye t'nigh'.
Alanón says: Yes.
Alanón says: ... Arvoss.
Arvoss says: Mm?
Alanón says: I'm sorry.
Arvoss sighs.
Arvoss says: S'naugh' t' be sorry abou'. Ah can undahstand.
Arvoss says: Yer one 'o 'er own. S'natural she'd wan' t' latch oan t' ye.
Alanón says: Yes, about that. And about tomorrow.
Alanón says: You know why we haven't asked you to come with us?
Arvoss says: Aye.
Arvoss gives a crooked, and slightly sad, grin.
Arvoss says: S'cause Ah'm an Ebon. They migh' nae think Ah'd really 'urt 'em, bu' they'd nae be easy wi' me there.
Alanón nods, looking a bit sad himself.
Arvoss chuckles.
Arvoss says: Tha' an' th' fact Ah migh' try t' protect 'er once she gets a frigh'.
Alanón chuckles too.
Arvoss says: S'a'righ', elf. Ah wouldnae pick fer annehthin' like this t' 'appen, bu' yer nae a bad choice fer 'er either.
Alanón starts to answer but stops, and nods instead.
Arvoss says: Where's she at naow?
Alanón says: With Lark and my brother.
Alanón says: They're both handy at making people forget things they'd rather not think of.
Alanón grins.
Arvoss grins back.
Arvoss says: Ah'm sure o' tha'.
Alanón says: I'm sure she'll want to see you when we get back here. And I won't keep her if she does.
Arvoss nods. "An' Ah'll be waitin' 'ere fer 'er."
Alanón says: I should be getting back to them.
Arvoss nods again. "Ah'll see ye around, elf."
Alanón says: Good night, Arvoss.
_____________
The final part I'm afraid might be a little delayed, since I want to get it right. It'll be up here soon as it's finished, though.
Last night at the Pig.
____________________________
Alanón says: Good Evening, Arvoss.
Arvoss grunts. "Elf."
Arvoss says: Shaur's tol' me wha' ye were wantin' t' do.
Alanón says: Good, I hoped she would.
Arvoss says: Didnae say why ye wanted t' do it, though.
Alanón says: She is afraid of the furbolgs because she connects them with the deaths of her parents. It's like... being afraid of the dark, or the boogeyman, or the like.
Alanón says: If we can show her there's nothing really to fear from furbolgs, I'm hoping her fear of them will fade, and then perhaps the rest of her fears as well.
Arvoss grunts again. "S'pose 't makes sense a'righ'."
Arvoss gives a slight chuckle.
Arvoss says: Ye thinkin' o' makin' 'er more normal, eh?
Alanón says: I don't want to change who she is, that's not my intention.
Alanón says: .... but yes, in a way I hope she becomes more... "normal".
Arvoss says: Sae when'r ye goin'?
Alanón says: Tomorrow. We've already waited longer than I intended, and I'd rather not put it off any longer.
Arvoss says: Aye.
Arvoss says: Sae Ah s'pose she'll be stayin' wi' ye t'nigh'.
Alanón says: Yes.
Alanón says: ... Arvoss.
Arvoss says: Mm?
Alanón says: I'm sorry.
Arvoss sighs.
Arvoss says: S'naugh' t' be sorry abou'. Ah can undahstand.
Arvoss says: Yer one 'o 'er own. S'natural she'd wan' t' latch oan t' ye.
Alanón says: Yes, about that. And about tomorrow.
Alanón says: You know why we haven't asked you to come with us?
Arvoss says: Aye.
Arvoss gives a crooked, and slightly sad, grin.
Arvoss says: S'cause Ah'm an Ebon. They migh' nae think Ah'd really 'urt 'em, bu' they'd nae be easy wi' me there.
Alanón nods, looking a bit sad himself.
Arvoss chuckles.
Arvoss says: Tha' an' th' fact Ah migh' try t' protect 'er once she gets a frigh'.
Alanón chuckles too.
Arvoss says: S'a'righ', elf. Ah wouldnae pick fer annehthin' like this t' 'appen, bu' yer nae a bad choice fer 'er either.
Alanón starts to answer but stops, and nods instead.
Arvoss says: Where's she at naow?
Alanón says: With Lark and my brother.
Alanón says: They're both handy at making people forget things they'd rather not think of.
Alanón grins.
Arvoss grins back.
Arvoss says: Ah'm sure o' tha'.
Alanón says: I'm sure she'll want to see you when we get back here. And I won't keep her if she does.
Arvoss nods. "An' Ah'll be waitin' 'ere fer 'er."
Alanón says: I should be getting back to them.
Arvoss nods again. "Ah'll see ye around, elf."
Alanón says: Good night, Arvoss.
_____________
The final part I'm afraid might be a little delayed, since I want to get it right. It'll be up here soon as it's finished, though.
Sunday, September 12, 2010
Facing Fears
A casual observer would see nothing out of the ordinary about the trio of druid-cats clustering together in the Park. From her perch on the edge of the moonwell, however, Lark could see the tension in the smallest cat as the two on either side of her spoke quietly. Lark stayed put, keeping out of it until she might be needed.
* * *
Shaurria looked utterly miserable. Pitch felt sorry for her, but Alanon insisted that this was important, so he went along with it. His brother was silent, having already said his piece, and simply sat next to her, providing reassurance and the occasional ear-washing.
"They've been my friends for, well, centuries, Shaur," Pitch told her. "They're perfectly safe, I swear it. Tailfeathers, you already met one of them, didn't you? At a distance at least." Shaur still wouldn't look at him, but she did give a small nod. "And we'll be right there with you," he went on. "Nothing bad will happen with the two of us guarding you, right?" A slight shudder running through her entire body was her only response. Pitch looked back up to his brother, seeing his own concern mirrored in the elder druid's eyes, but Alanon only nodded, encouraging him on. Pitch suppressed a sigh. He was beginning to dislike this almost as much as Shaur.
He cajoled her for the next several minutes, and while at first she remained huddled on the ground with her eyes squeezed shut, at last Pitch noticed that she seemed to be relaxing. Alanon stretched out next to her, and when Pitch finally ran out of things to say, the older druid gently nuzzled her cheek. "Shaur," he said, quietly. "Have I even once asked you to do something you weren't capable of?" She finally opened her eyes to look at him, then shook her head. "Do you trust me?" he asked her, and she frowned a bit, then nodded. "I know you are frightened, but please trust me again. Will you do it?"
Shaurria looked away, then shuddered again. Then she abruptly unshifted, slipping both arms around Alanon's neck and burying her face in his scruff. Her muffled voice was just able to be heard. "All right."
_____________________
Hoping the next part won't be so delayed. Sorry!
* * *
Shaurria looked utterly miserable. Pitch felt sorry for her, but Alanon insisted that this was important, so he went along with it. His brother was silent, having already said his piece, and simply sat next to her, providing reassurance and the occasional ear-washing.
"They've been my friends for, well, centuries, Shaur," Pitch told her. "They're perfectly safe, I swear it. Tailfeathers, you already met one of them, didn't you? At a distance at least." Shaur still wouldn't look at him, but she did give a small nod. "And we'll be right there with you," he went on. "Nothing bad will happen with the two of us guarding you, right?" A slight shudder running through her entire body was her only response. Pitch looked back up to his brother, seeing his own concern mirrored in the elder druid's eyes, but Alanon only nodded, encouraging him on. Pitch suppressed a sigh. He was beginning to dislike this almost as much as Shaur.
He cajoled her for the next several minutes, and while at first she remained huddled on the ground with her eyes squeezed shut, at last Pitch noticed that she seemed to be relaxing. Alanon stretched out next to her, and when Pitch finally ran out of things to say, the older druid gently nuzzled her cheek. "Shaur," he said, quietly. "Have I even once asked you to do something you weren't capable of?" She finally opened her eyes to look at him, then shook her head. "Do you trust me?" he asked her, and she frowned a bit, then nodded. "I know you are frightened, but please trust me again. Will you do it?"
Shaurria looked away, then shuddered again. Then she abruptly unshifted, slipping both arms around Alanon's neck and burying her face in his scruff. Her muffled voice was just able to be heard. "All right."
_____________________
Hoping the next part won't be so delayed. Sorry!
Thursday, August 12, 2010
Random chatlog is FUNNEH
Monday night saw a lot of activity in the IC chat channel. For lack of anything better to post, I thought this was too funny to pass up. And yea, Pitch and Alanon tend to wrestle a lot when they get together; it's a brother thing. >.>
Also, NSFW warning for language, and for Sey just being Sey.
_______________
[exileic] Pitchblàck: .... scuse me, I see someone that needs pounced
[exileic] Seylon: AWW. Pitch!
[exileic] Seylon: Get on back here.
[exileic] Alanón: Too late, little brother. I see you
[exileic] Pitchblàck: ...drat
[exileic] Pitchblàck: Get back where?
[exileic] Feliche: What other meanin' could y'be gettin' at? She said th'point'a her dress is t'have't torn off an fucked. An' y'offered t'help wit'r dress. What other meanin' could there be?
[exileic] Seylon: Fel, you're real hung up on hatin' Jeb m'thinkin'.
[exileic] Feliche: Fuckin' SI:7.
[exileic] Pitchblàck: See? That was why I was hav-mph- ing doubts
[exileic] Seylon: Yeah, yeah. But you're nice t'that little fuckin' psycho with th'tentacle monster. He ain't no worse.
[exileic] Jebediaeh: Ya'll ever helped a lady take off a dress right proper? And I ain't no Sevens no more.
[exileic] Seylon: Oh! Oh I have!
[exileic] Seylon: Helped th'gal with her dress.
[exileic] Pitchblàck: Tentacle monster?
[exileic] Jebediaeh: Ain't right easy sometimes, is it, ma'am?
[exileic] Feliche: ...y'still know more'n y'oughtta. An' yer implyin', 'en, 'at y'wanta take't off an' fuck'r, still.
[exileic] Feliche: Jes' cause y'ain't tearin' don' change a thing.
[exileic] Pitchblàck: Do I even -want- to know about the -oof- tentacle monster?
[exileic] Alanón: Please, tell him about the monster. It's distracting him nicely
[exileic] Feliche: ...Sky's never introduced y't'her friend?
[exileic] Pitchblàck: Hah!
[exileic] Pitchblàck: Oh, that one -oof-
[exileic] Feliche: Was th'implication, indeed.
[exileic] Pitchblàck: Yes, I met him...OUCH
[exileic] Seylon: Ya know garters, yeah? Like th'garter belts?
[exileic] Alanón: Sorry Pitch
[exileic] Pitchblàck: No you're not
[exileic] Seylon: Ya know it near took me fifty years t'learn how t'unlatch one'a them stocking garter thingers with one hand?
[exileic] Alanón: *snicker*
[exileic] Seylon: S'a life skill.
[exileic] Seylon: Trick is findin' a gal who'd wear them things.
[exileic] Seylon: Takes a lady type. I ain't met one'a them in a while.
[exileic] Seylon: Fel, I wanna lady-type.
[exileic] Feliche: Eh?
[exileic] Feliche: Y'got one in yer class.
[exileic] Jebediaeh: Ya reckon Ms. Loreli does?
[exileic] Seylon: With th'laces an' unders all satiny an' th'pretty flouncey shit.
[exileic] Alanón: Pitch, watch out for the- *cat wail*
[exileic] Alanón: ..... edge
[exileic] Kost: Not worth half the effort somedays.
[exileic] Seylon: Lore?
[exileic] Seylon: . . . she ain't a pretty unders type.
[exileic] Jebediaeh: Yeah.
[exileic] Feliche: Y'checked?
[exileic] Pitchblàck: I'm okay!
[exileic] Pitchblàck: ... you know, if anyone was wondering
[exileic] Feliche: S'good Pitch, m'glad.
[exileic] Seylon: Was! Pitch, was.
[exileic] Seylon: She's more practical.
[exileic] Seylon: Huh. Bettin' Lore's unders are prolly flat satin, black.
[exileic] Seylon: If'n she's dressin' up.
[exileic] Pitchblàck: *Rawr*
[exileic] Alanón: Oof
[exileic] Seylon: Other folk're different.
[exileic] Feliche: Well, Sey...y'got options.
[exileic] Seylon: Threnny an' Aely? Simple an' white. Maybe pink for Aely cause that'd be cute as hell.
[exileic] Feliche: Either y'go out an' get one, or y'wait 'til yer done wit' yer current class.
[exileic] Pitchblàck: Aha! -mnph- Got y-
[exileic] Seylon: I don't fuck 'em while they're students!
[exileic] Feliche: What'd I jes' say?
[exileic] Seylon: S'wrong.
[exileic] Seylon: I know I know.
[exileic] Seylon: So I gotta go get one s'th'problem.
[exileic] Feliche: Right.
[exileic] Seylon: What do ya think Annalea wears?
[exileic] Seylon: Bet she don't wear no unders.
[exileic] Pitchblàck: *growling, scuffling noises*
[exileic] Jebediaeh: Reckon ya can rent one fer the night. A lady, I mean.
[exileic] Feliche: *sighs*
[exileic] Seylon: S'a topic m'interested in!
[exileic] Seylon: Y'outta be too.
[exileic] Feliche: ...I don' care what folks wear.
[exileic] Alanón: Would anyone care to explain to my brother why he keeps losing to cat smaller than he is? *snicker*
[exileic] Pitchblàck: Oh shut it
[exileic] Seylon: Prolly cause he's impatient.
[exileic] Feliche: Cause he ain't wearin' th'proper underpants?
[exileic] Seylon: Most younger folk -CACKLES-.
[exileic] Pitchblàck: Am -mrrph- not
[exileic] Feliche: Y'ain't wearin' underpants, 'en?
[exileic] Pitchblàck: Wait
[exileic] Feliche: S'yer problem right there.
[exileic] Kal: *snickering*
[exileic] Alanón: *laughter*
[exileic] Seylon: *snorts*
[exileic] Pitchblàck: DIDN'T SAY THAT
[exileic] Feliche: Go get yerself a nice loose pair'a boxer briefs, feel free's a bird wit'out th'junk bouncin' 'round everywhere.
[exileic] Seylon: Explains why Sky likes ya so much.
[exileic] Feliche: S'convinient an' comfortable.
[exileic] Alanón: Pitch, edge
[exileic] Pitchblàck: Whoops
[exileic] Feliche: An' only one button in th'front, fer easy access too.
[exileic] Pitchblàck: I might *grunt* try that sometime -oof- Fel
[exileic] Feliche: M'tellin' yeh, s'th'bee's knee's.
[exileic] Seylon: Oh, Fel. Crazy Cora left a present for ya
[exileic] Feliche: ...throw't out. I don' wan't.
[exileic] Pitchblàck: Cheating!
[exileic] Seylon: She made it her own self!
[exileic] Feliche: S'probably a dead rat.
[exileic] Seylon: Ain't. S'a necklace.
[exileic] Alanón: That is not cheating, Pitch
[exileic] Feliche: A necklace made'a dead rats?
[exileic] Seylon: Acorns.
[exileic] Feliche: ...acorns.
[exileic] Seylon: Yeah.
[exileic] Pitchblàck: Wait, a dead rat necklace?
[exileic] Seylon: Nope. Acorns.
[exileic] Alanón: No, Pitch, you can't have one
[exileic] Pitchblàck: .....
[exileic] Seylon: It'd fuckin' smell.
[exileic] Pitchblàck: Acorns are cool, too
[exileic] Feliche: ...acorns leak tree sap, th'woman's tryin' t'torture me.
[exileic] Feliche: Y'ever try gettin' tree sap outta chest hair?
[exileic] Alanón: It wouldn't, because he's eat it before it began smelling
[exileic] Feliche: S'pretty much th'worst torture ever.
[exileic] Pitchblàck: ... what's wrong with eating dead squirrels? Easier than eating them alive
[exileic] Alanón: Pitch!
[exileic] Pitchblàck: *another cat wail*
[exileic] Alanón: .... I think we should find another spot
[exileic] Riàtha: (Kal)*snerks*
[exileic] Pitchblàck: I'm fine! ow
[exileic] Pitchblàck: So um, is anyone at the Pig?
[exileic] Seylon: Ain't, an' we gotta get back soon 'fore Crazy Cora burns th'fuckin' house down.
[exileic] Pitchblàck: .....
[exileic] Feliche: *grunts* ...we? When th'fuck'd at happen?
[exileic] Seylon: Well she was sniffin' round th'house earlier!
[exileic] Kost: Was planning on passing by, but considering that last conversation, I felt it best to look elsewhere.
[exileic] Feliche: ...I told yeh s'a bad idea.
[exileic] Seylon: Went wanderin' back into th'woods.
[exileic] Seylon: Which? Th'underwear one? M'sorry, darlin'. Didn't mean t'offend.
[exileic] Seylon: Was just funnin'.
[exileic] Feliche: ...yer mockin' me.
[exileic] Seylon: How'm I mockin' ya?
[exileic] Feliche: Y'are.
[exileic] Seylon: I ain't!
[exileic] Kost: Pft, hardly offended, was more of a moment of bloody hell, why did I leave the volume up and why is this lot staring at me now.
[exileic] Seylon: Ah shit.
[exileic] Seylon: Should warn ya t'turn your box down when I get goin'.
[exileic] Seylon: Seems I misbehave, but i make up for it in charm.
[exileic] Seylon: A'right.
[exileic] Seylon: Fel, s'a nice necklace for somethin' made outta acorns.
[exileic] Feliche: ...s'er treesap leakin' outta it?
[exileic] Seylon: No!
[exileic] Feliche: ..no, s'too obvious.
[exileic] Feliche: More likely sh'rigged it t'explode in m'eyeballs.
[exileic] Feliche: Or scream at me 'til m'ears bleed.
[exileic] Seylon: It don't. You're bein' ridiculous.
[exileic] Seylon: Anyrate, we're off folk.
[exileic] Seylon: Behave yourselves. Sorry 'bout th'offense, Kost.
[exileic] Pitchblàck: So who is crazy Cora anyway?
[exileic] Pitchblàck: Oh, night you two
[exileic] Feliche: Th'nuttiest bitch y'ever met.
[exileic] Seylon: New gal in th'set'a sentinels we're trainin'.
[exileic] Feliche: ...an' y'don' wanna meet.
[exileic] Seylon: She's crazy.
[exileic] Kost: No harm, no foul.
[exileic] Seylon: She's funny as hell.
[exileic] Pitchblàck: Mkay, I'll take your word for it
[exileic] Feliche: S'gonna get someone killed.
[exileic] Seylon: Fel's bein' all prejudiced 'gainst crazy people.
[exileic] Seylon: Ya know th'reports say she's hyper-intelligent.
[exileic] Feliche: She tried t'piss on me.
[exileic] Seylon: Like smarter than you an' me combined.
[exileic] Seylon: SHE FUCKIN' DID NOT.
[exileic] Feliche: Don' come across s'intelligent.
[exileic] Feliche: Well, whatever.
[exileic] Seylon: *grunts*
[exileic] Seylon: Right. Night folk.
[exileic] Pitchblàck: Night!
[exileic] Feliche: Ayeh, catch y'lot later.
[exileic] Alanón: Goodnight
Also, NSFW warning for language, and for Sey just being Sey.
_______________
[exileic] Pitchblàck: .... scuse me, I see someone that needs pounced
[exileic] Seylon: AWW. Pitch!
[exileic] Seylon: Get on back here.
[exileic] Alanón: Too late, little brother. I see you
[exileic] Pitchblàck: ...drat
[exileic] Pitchblàck: Get back where?
[exileic] Feliche: What other meanin' could y'be gettin' at? She said th'point'a her dress is t'have't torn off an fucked. An' y'offered t'help wit'r dress. What other meanin' could there be?
[exileic] Seylon: Fel, you're real hung up on hatin' Jeb m'thinkin'.
[exileic] Feliche: Fuckin' SI:7.
[exileic] Pitchblàck: See? That was why I was hav-mph- ing doubts
[exileic] Seylon: Yeah, yeah. But you're nice t'that little fuckin' psycho with th'tentacle monster. He ain't no worse.
[exileic] Jebediaeh: Ya'll ever helped a lady take off a dress right proper? And I ain't no Sevens no more.
[exileic] Seylon: Oh! Oh I have!
[exileic] Seylon: Helped th'gal with her dress.
[exileic] Pitchblàck: Tentacle monster?
[exileic] Jebediaeh: Ain't right easy sometimes, is it, ma'am?
[exileic] Feliche: ...y'still know more'n y'oughtta. An' yer implyin', 'en, 'at y'wanta take't off an' fuck'r, still.
[exileic] Feliche: Jes' cause y'ain't tearin' don' change a thing.
[exileic] Pitchblàck: Do I even -want- to know about the -oof- tentacle monster?
[exileic] Alanón: Please, tell him about the monster. It's distracting him nicely
[exileic] Feliche: ...Sky's never introduced y't'her friend?
[exileic] Pitchblàck: Hah!
[exileic] Pitchblàck: Oh, that one -oof-
[exileic] Feliche: Was th'implication, indeed.
[exileic] Pitchblàck: Yes, I met him...OUCH
[exileic] Seylon: Ya know garters, yeah? Like th'garter belts?
[exileic] Alanón: Sorry Pitch
[exileic] Pitchblàck: No you're not
[exileic] Seylon: Ya know it near took me fifty years t'learn how t'unlatch one'a them stocking garter thingers with one hand?
[exileic] Alanón: *snicker*
[exileic] Seylon: S'a life skill.
[exileic] Seylon: Trick is findin' a gal who'd wear them things.
[exileic] Seylon: Takes a lady type. I ain't met one'a them in a while.
[exileic] Seylon: Fel, I wanna lady-type.
[exileic] Feliche: Eh?
[exileic] Feliche: Y'got one in yer class.
[exileic] Jebediaeh: Ya reckon Ms. Loreli does?
[exileic] Seylon: With th'laces an' unders all satiny an' th'pretty flouncey shit.
[exileic] Alanón: Pitch, watch out for the- *cat wail*
[exileic] Alanón: ..... edge
[exileic] Kost: Not worth half the effort somedays.
[exileic] Seylon: Lore?
[exileic] Seylon: . . . she ain't a pretty unders type.
[exileic] Jebediaeh: Yeah.
[exileic] Feliche: Y'checked?
[exileic] Pitchblàck: I'm okay!
[exileic] Pitchblàck: ... you know, if anyone was wondering
[exileic] Feliche: S'good Pitch, m'glad.
[exileic] Seylon: Was! Pitch, was.
[exileic] Seylon: She's more practical.
[exileic] Seylon: Huh. Bettin' Lore's unders are prolly flat satin, black.
[exileic] Seylon: If'n she's dressin' up.
[exileic] Pitchblàck: *Rawr*
[exileic] Alanón: Oof
[exileic] Seylon: Other folk're different.
[exileic] Feliche: Well, Sey...y'got options.
[exileic] Seylon: Threnny an' Aely? Simple an' white. Maybe pink for Aely cause that'd be cute as hell.
[exileic] Feliche: Either y'go out an' get one, or y'wait 'til yer done wit' yer current class.
[exileic] Pitchblàck: Aha! -mnph- Got y-
[exileic] Seylon: I don't fuck 'em while they're students!
[exileic] Feliche: What'd I jes' say?
[exileic] Seylon: S'wrong.
[exileic] Seylon: I know I know.
[exileic] Seylon: So I gotta go get one s'th'problem.
[exileic] Feliche: Right.
[exileic] Seylon: What do ya think Annalea wears?
[exileic] Seylon: Bet she don't wear no unders.
[exileic] Pitchblàck: *growling, scuffling noises*
[exileic] Jebediaeh: Reckon ya can rent one fer the night. A lady, I mean.
[exileic] Feliche: *sighs*
[exileic] Seylon: S'a topic m'interested in!
[exileic] Seylon: Y'outta be too.
[exileic] Feliche: ...I don' care what folks wear.
[exileic] Alanón: Would anyone care to explain to my brother why he keeps losing to cat smaller than he is? *snicker*
[exileic] Pitchblàck: Oh shut it
[exileic] Seylon: Prolly cause he's impatient.
[exileic] Feliche: Cause he ain't wearin' th'proper underpants?
[exileic] Seylon: Most younger folk -CACKLES-.
[exileic] Pitchblàck: Am -mrrph- not
[exileic] Feliche: Y'ain't wearin' underpants, 'en?
[exileic] Pitchblàck: Wait
[exileic] Feliche: S'yer problem right there.
[exileic] Kal: *snickering*
[exileic] Alanón: *laughter*
[exileic] Seylon: *snorts*
[exileic] Pitchblàck: DIDN'T SAY THAT
[exileic] Feliche: Go get yerself a nice loose pair'a boxer briefs, feel free's a bird wit'out th'junk bouncin' 'round everywhere.
[exileic] Seylon: Explains why Sky likes ya so much.
[exileic] Feliche: S'convinient an' comfortable.
[exileic] Alanón: Pitch, edge
[exileic] Pitchblàck: Whoops
[exileic] Feliche: An' only one button in th'front, fer easy access too.
[exileic] Pitchblàck: I might *grunt* try that sometime -oof- Fel
[exileic] Feliche: M'tellin' yeh, s'th'bee's knee's.
[exileic] Seylon: Oh, Fel. Crazy Cora left a present for ya
[exileic] Feliche: ...throw't out. I don' wan't.
[exileic] Pitchblàck: Cheating!
[exileic] Seylon: She made it her own self!
[exileic] Feliche: S'probably a dead rat.
[exileic] Seylon: Ain't. S'a necklace.
[exileic] Alanón: That is not cheating, Pitch
[exileic] Feliche: A necklace made'a dead rats?
[exileic] Seylon: Acorns.
[exileic] Feliche: ...acorns.
[exileic] Seylon: Yeah.
[exileic] Pitchblàck: Wait, a dead rat necklace?
[exileic] Seylon: Nope. Acorns.
[exileic] Alanón: No, Pitch, you can't have one
[exileic] Pitchblàck: .....
[exileic] Seylon: It'd fuckin' smell.
[exileic] Pitchblàck: Acorns are cool, too
[exileic] Feliche: ...acorns leak tree sap, th'woman's tryin' t'torture me.
[exileic] Feliche: Y'ever try gettin' tree sap outta chest hair?
[exileic] Alanón: It wouldn't, because he's eat it before it began smelling
[exileic] Feliche: S'pretty much th'worst torture ever.
[exileic] Pitchblàck: ... what's wrong with eating dead squirrels? Easier than eating them alive
[exileic] Alanón: Pitch!
[exileic] Pitchblàck: *another cat wail*
[exileic] Alanón: .... I think we should find another spot
[exileic] Riàtha: (Kal)*snerks*
[exileic] Pitchblàck: I'm fine! ow
[exileic] Pitchblàck: So um, is anyone at the Pig?
[exileic] Seylon: Ain't, an' we gotta get back soon 'fore Crazy Cora burns th'fuckin' house down.
[exileic] Pitchblàck: .....
[exileic] Feliche: *grunts* ...we? When th'fuck'd at happen?
[exileic] Seylon: Well she was sniffin' round th'house earlier!
[exileic] Kost: Was planning on passing by, but considering that last conversation, I felt it best to look elsewhere.
[exileic] Feliche: ...I told yeh s'a bad idea.
[exileic] Seylon: Went wanderin' back into th'woods.
[exileic] Seylon: Which? Th'underwear one? M'sorry, darlin'. Didn't mean t'offend.
[exileic] Seylon: Was just funnin'.
[exileic] Feliche: ...yer mockin' me.
[exileic] Seylon: How'm I mockin' ya?
[exileic] Feliche: Y'are.
[exileic] Seylon: I ain't!
[exileic] Kost: Pft, hardly offended, was more of a moment of bloody hell, why did I leave the volume up and why is this lot staring at me now.
[exileic] Seylon: Ah shit.
[exileic] Seylon: Should warn ya t'turn your box down when I get goin'.
[exileic] Seylon: Seems I misbehave, but i make up for it in charm.
[exileic] Seylon: A'right.
[exileic] Seylon: Fel, s'a nice necklace for somethin' made outta acorns.
[exileic] Feliche: ...s'er treesap leakin' outta it?
[exileic] Seylon: No!
[exileic] Feliche: ..no, s'too obvious.
[exileic] Feliche: More likely sh'rigged it t'explode in m'eyeballs.
[exileic] Feliche: Or scream at me 'til m'ears bleed.
[exileic] Seylon: It don't. You're bein' ridiculous.
[exileic] Seylon: Anyrate, we're off folk.
[exileic] Seylon: Behave yourselves. Sorry 'bout th'offense, Kost.
[exileic] Pitchblàck: So who is crazy Cora anyway?
[exileic] Pitchblàck: Oh, night you two
[exileic] Feliche: Th'nuttiest bitch y'ever met.
[exileic] Seylon: New gal in th'set'a sentinels we're trainin'.
[exileic] Feliche: ...an' y'don' wanna meet.
[exileic] Seylon: She's crazy.
[exileic] Kost: No harm, no foul.
[exileic] Seylon: She's funny as hell.
[exileic] Pitchblàck: Mkay, I'll take your word for it
[exileic] Feliche: S'gonna get someone killed.
[exileic] Seylon: Fel's bein' all prejudiced 'gainst crazy people.
[exileic] Seylon: Ya know th'reports say she's hyper-intelligent.
[exileic] Feliche: She tried t'piss on me.
[exileic] Seylon: Like smarter than you an' me combined.
[exileic] Seylon: SHE FUCKIN' DID NOT.
[exileic] Feliche: Don' come across s'intelligent.
[exileic] Feliche: Well, whatever.
[exileic] Seylon: *grunts*
[exileic] Seylon: Right. Night folk.
[exileic] Pitchblàck: Night!
[exileic] Feliche: Ayeh, catch y'lot later.
[exileic] Alanón: Goodnight
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
Alanon's Plan: Part 2
Aríen waves at you.
You smile at Aríen.
Aríen hugs you.
Alanón says: Sit, please
Aríen nods at Arvoss.
Arvoss eyes Aríen with an odd look.
Arvoss says: Ye're a paladin
Aríen says: I am
Arvoss nods.
Arvoss says: Ye found me, ye wanted t' talk o' sommat, wha's yer business?
Alanón says: I wanted to ask you something, about Shaurria
Arvoss says: Shaur? Wha' about 'er?
Alanón says: Before I ask anything, I should probably tell you a bit about my people
Arvoss raises his eyebrow inquisitively at you.
Alanón says: We night elves can be... insular at times. Some of us more than others
Arvoss says: Aye?
Alanón says: We tend to take care of our own business without outside interference. Such as.... a young orphan, living without supervision or influence...
Arvoss blinks, then frowns.
Arvoss says: A'righ', wha're ye oan about? Wha's tha' got t' do wi' Shaur?
Alanón says: She has no parents, no official teachers, in fact, no Kal'dorei influences at all, outside of myself and my brother
Aríen says: And that other druid, Kal's friend
Alanón says: And Pitch is... not looked on favorably by many of the Circle
Alanón says: Windstar would be considered too young, she is barely older than Shaur
Aríen nods. "That is true."
Arvoss says: Sae wha'?
Arvoss glares.
Alanón says: My people would want to correct the problem. Most likely by sending someone and fetching her back home. To Teldrassil
Arvoss blinks at you.
Arvoss says: Ye'd take 'er away?
Alanón says: They would, yes
Arvoss frowns, then glares at Alanón, fingers twitching toward a runeblade.
Arvoss says: Ye'd take 'er ovah mah dead body. She's nae goin' annehwhere!
Alanón says: Arvoss
Aríen makes a soothing gesture, shaking her head.
Alanón says: I am not planning on taking her anywhere
Arvoss blinks again, but doesn't look convinced.
Alanón says: I know how you take care of her. And how you feel about her. But...
Alanón says: The Circle sees you as just a human, and the fact that you're a death knight makes it ten times worse
Arvoss scowls. "An'?"
Alanón says: So, my question... Would you allow me to adopt Shaurria?
Arvoss blinks.
Arvoss says: Adop' 'er?
Alanón says: I assure you, I will not take her away
Alanón says: She'll stay here just like she has been
Arvoss peers at you searchingly.
Arvoss says: .... ye expect me t' trust ye, afteh ye told me allat?
Aríen raises her eyebrow inquisitively at Arvoss.
Alanón smiles faintly.
Alanón says: I am not like most of my peers, which is partly why I'm here in the first place
Alanón says: If she is my ward, they won't be able to touch her. She will be left in peace, especially since I will be continuing to teach her
Arvoss grunts.
Alanón says: But I won't do this unless you agree. I need your permission
Arvoss says: Wha' fer? Ye jes' all bu' said ye could take 'er off annehtahm ye wanted t'
Alanón says: But I will not
Alanón says: I'm asking for your trust. I give you my word, I won't take her from you
Aríen says: And if it helps, you have my word as well
Arvoss frowns in thought, looking down for a moment. He looks back up with a small, sad smile.
Arvoss says: Sae ye say tha' if Ah dinnae agree, they'll mos' like take 'er fra me
Alanón says: I'm afraid so
Arvoss says: An' if Ah agree, she'll be safe
Aríen nods.
Alanón says: Yes, I give you my word
Arvoss shakes his head. "But she willnae be mah girl annehmore." His smile becomes, if anything, even more sad.
Arvoss says: Ye're nae givin' me a choice innit, ye ken tha'?
Alanón returns the smile. "I'm afraid not. Not if you want to keep her here and safe."
Arvoss shakes his head again, then rubs his face in his hands.
Arvoss says: D'ye even ken wha' yer askin'? Yer askin' me t' give up mah girl
Aríen looks at Arvoss sympathetically.
.
Alanón says: I have had two children of my own. I understand
Alanón says: Arvoss, she'll still be yours. Nothing on paper will change that
Arvoss says: But Ah'll ken it
Arvoss says: .... Lemme think oan it. Ah'll let ye ken in a day'r twa
Alanón says: Of course
Aríen nods.
Arvoss looks from one to the other, then sighs.
Alanón stands and offers a hand to Aríen.
Aríen accepts it with a smile.
Alanón says: I will contact you in a few days, Arvoss
Arvoss nods, staring down broodingly at his hands.
Aríen offers Arvoss a small reassuring smile as she walks past.
___________
Two days later-
Alanon's buzzbox squawked, and he quickly picked it up. The death knight's voice came over the frequency. "Oi, elf, ye there?" Alanon pressed the button. "Yes, Arvoss. I'm here." There was silence for several seconds, until the druid wondered if the transmission had been lost. Then, quietly, "Mah ansah's aye. Ye can do it." Alanon breathed a sigh of relief, then hit the button again. "Thank you, Arvoss," he started to say, but the box clicked and the channel went dead.
Alanon sighed again, then began packing a few things. Time to head back to Stormwind and see what Shaurria thought.
You smile at Aríen.
Aríen hugs you.
Alanón says: Sit, please
Aríen nods at Arvoss.
Arvoss eyes Aríen with an odd look.
Arvoss says: Ye're a paladin
Aríen says: I am
Arvoss nods.
Arvoss says: Ye found me, ye wanted t' talk o' sommat, wha's yer business?
Alanón says: I wanted to ask you something, about Shaurria
Arvoss says: Shaur? Wha' about 'er?
Alanón says: Before I ask anything, I should probably tell you a bit about my people
Arvoss raises his eyebrow inquisitively at you.
Alanón says: We night elves can be... insular at times. Some of us more than others
Arvoss says: Aye?
Alanón says: We tend to take care of our own business without outside interference. Such as.... a young orphan, living without supervision or influence...
Arvoss blinks, then frowns.
Arvoss says: A'righ', wha're ye oan about? Wha's tha' got t' do wi' Shaur?
Alanón says: She has no parents, no official teachers, in fact, no Kal'dorei influences at all, outside of myself and my brother
Aríen says: And that other druid, Kal's friend
Alanón says: And Pitch is... not looked on favorably by many of the Circle
Alanón says: Windstar would be considered too young, she is barely older than Shaur
Aríen nods. "That is true."
Arvoss says: Sae wha'?
Arvoss glares.
Alanón says: My people would want to correct the problem. Most likely by sending someone and fetching her back home. To Teldrassil
Arvoss blinks at you.
Arvoss says: Ye'd take 'er away?
Alanón says: They would, yes
Arvoss frowns, then glares at Alanón, fingers twitching toward a runeblade.
Arvoss says: Ye'd take 'er ovah mah dead body. She's nae goin' annehwhere!
Alanón says: Arvoss
Aríen makes a soothing gesture, shaking her head.
Alanón says: I am not planning on taking her anywhere
Arvoss blinks again, but doesn't look convinced.
Alanón says: I know how you take care of her. And how you feel about her. But...
Alanón says: The Circle sees you as just a human, and the fact that you're a death knight makes it ten times worse
Arvoss scowls. "An'?"
Alanón says: So, my question... Would you allow me to adopt Shaurria?
Arvoss blinks.
Arvoss says: Adop' 'er?
Alanón says: I assure you, I will not take her away
Alanón says: She'll stay here just like she has been
Arvoss peers at you searchingly.
Arvoss says: .... ye expect me t' trust ye, afteh ye told me allat?
Aríen raises her eyebrow inquisitively at Arvoss.
Alanón smiles faintly.
Alanón says: I am not like most of my peers, which is partly why I'm here in the first place
Alanón says: If she is my ward, they won't be able to touch her. She will be left in peace, especially since I will be continuing to teach her
Arvoss grunts.
Alanón says: But I won't do this unless you agree. I need your permission
Arvoss says: Wha' fer? Ye jes' all bu' said ye could take 'er off annehtahm ye wanted t'
Alanón says: But I will not
Alanón says: I'm asking for your trust. I give you my word, I won't take her from you
Aríen says: And if it helps, you have my word as well
Arvoss frowns in thought, looking down for a moment. He looks back up with a small, sad smile.
Arvoss says: Sae ye say tha' if Ah dinnae agree, they'll mos' like take 'er fra me
Alanón says: I'm afraid so
Arvoss says: An' if Ah agree, she'll be safe
Aríen nods.
Alanón says: Yes, I give you my word
Arvoss shakes his head. "But she willnae be mah girl annehmore." His smile becomes, if anything, even more sad.
Arvoss says: Ye're nae givin' me a choice innit, ye ken tha'?
Alanón returns the smile. "I'm afraid not. Not if you want to keep her here and safe."
Arvoss shakes his head again, then rubs his face in his hands.
Arvoss says: D'ye even ken wha' yer askin'? Yer askin' me t' give up mah girl
Aríen looks at Arvoss sympathetically.
.
Alanón says: I have had two children of my own. I understand
Alanón says: Arvoss, she'll still be yours. Nothing on paper will change that
Arvoss says: But Ah'll ken it
Arvoss says: .... Lemme think oan it. Ah'll let ye ken in a day'r twa
Alanón says: Of course
Aríen nods.
Arvoss looks from one to the other, then sighs.
Alanón stands and offers a hand to Aríen.
Aríen accepts it with a smile.
Alanón says: I will contact you in a few days, Arvoss
Arvoss nods, staring down broodingly at his hands.
Aríen offers Arvoss a small reassuring smile as she walks past.
___________
Two days later-
Alanon's buzzbox squawked, and he quickly picked it up. The death knight's voice came over the frequency. "Oi, elf, ye there?" Alanon pressed the button. "Yes, Arvoss. I'm here." There was silence for several seconds, until the druid wondered if the transmission had been lost. Then, quietly, "Mah ansah's aye. Ye can do it." Alanon breathed a sigh of relief, then hit the button again. "Thank you, Arvoss," he started to say, but the box clicked and the channel went dead.
Alanon sighed again, then began packing a few things. Time to head back to Stormwind and see what Shaurria thought.
Monday, May 17, 2010
Alanon's Plan: Part 1
Oh hey, look! It's another chat log. >.>
_______________
Aríen slides off Faithful and ties his reins.
Alanón smiles at Aríen.
Aríen boggles at the cats.
Pitchblàck says: Don't judge
Pitchblàck says: We are cats after all
Alanón says: Some of us more so than others
Aríen says: Umm, yea, I just don't think I can join you all the way up there
Pitchblàck mock-glares at Alanón.
Alanón says: Hello love
Aríen smiles at Alanón.
Alanón jumps down to the cannon's base.
Alanón says: Up here should be fine, so long as you both can hear
Pitchblàck says: Kay
Aríen starts scritching Alanon's shoulders.
Alanón says: Pitch, have you seen or spoken with Iluthian lately?
Pitchblàck says: Nope, haven't seen him around
Alanón says: Do you know if he's met Shaurria yet?
Aríen says: Is that the druid Kal mentioned?
Pitchblàck says: Not that I know of
You raise your eyebrow inquisitively at Alanón.
Alanón says: Yes
Aríen says: ....She was, uh, pretty mad at the time, too
Alanón says: What Pitch has told me about him has reminded me of a few things, which I should have thought of before
Pitchblàck says: Mhmm?
Alanón says: You say Shaur is an orphan
Pitchblàck says: Yep. She has Arvoss though, she does alright
Alanón says: That is one of my concerns
Pitchblàck says: Oh?
Alanón says: You saw how Iluthian reacted toward death knights. Unfortunately his opinion is a common one
Aríen frowns.
Pitchblàck twitches his ears.
Pitchblàck says: So?
Alanón says: If word got back to the Circle about a young druid living alone, with no parents... What do you think they'd do?
Aríen blinks. "Hmm..."
Alanón says: And if they hear she's living with a death knight, you can believe they will react that much faster
Pitchblàck says: ....... They wouldn't
Alanón says: Yes they would
Pitchblàck says: But Arvoss wouldn't stand for that. He'd fight them to keep her here.
Alanón says: That is what I hope to avoid
Aríen looks worriedly up at Pitch.
Pitchblàck says: How?
Alanón eyes Aríen.
Alanón says: That's why I asked you to come here
Aríen says: ...Me?
Alanón says: Because my idea will indirectly affect you, because you're with me
Aríen raises her eyebrow inquisitively at Alanón.
Pitchblàck says: .... and? What's the idea?
Alanón says: I would like to officially adopt Shaur
Aríen says: ....Oh
Pitchblàck blinks.
Pitchblàck says: .......That could work....
Aríen looks thoughtful.
Alanón says: If she is my charge, the Circle couldn't touch her
Aríen nods slowly.
Alanón says: She could live here with Arvoss unopposed
Pitchblàck says: But would they let you?
Alanón says: I think so. They don't seem to know about her yet, and if we simply don't mention Arvoss...
Pitchblàck says: ..... but will Arvoss let you?
Alanón says: That is a small problem. How well do you know him?
Pitchblàck says: Not very, aside from getting on his bad side a time or two
Alanón snickers at Pitch.
Aríen gives a slight chuckle.
Alanón says: I need to get his permission first, and if he gives it, see what Shaur thinks
Pitchblàck nods.
Pitchblàck says: I'll bet she agrees
Alanón says: So, do you know where Arvoss is, roughly?
Pitchblàck says: Somewhere near Icecrown, that's all I know
Alanón says: The Citadel?
Pitchblàck nods again.
Alanón says: Then I can find him
Alanón looks back at Aríen.
Alanón says: Would you like to be there?
Aríen says: Sure. I wouldn't mind meeting him myself, actually.
Alanón nods.
Alanón says: I'm heading back myself, so I'll probably track him down tomorrow. Sound good?
Aríen nods at Alanón.
Pitchblàck says: Good luck. He can be a bit... touchy
Alanón says: But he cares for Shaur, more than himself it seems. If he can see that this is best for her, he'll agree
Alanón says: So. I'll see you next time I'm in town, little brother
Pitchblàck says: Yep
You pounce on top of Alanón.
Aríen smiles at you.
Alanón says: .... Pitch
Pitchblàck snickers.
Pitchblàck says: Goodbye, big brother
Aríen chuckles.
Aríen gently pats you.
Pitchblàck purrs.
_______________
Aríen slides off Faithful and ties his reins.
Alanón smiles at Aríen.
Aríen boggles at the cats.
Pitchblàck says: Don't judge
Pitchblàck says: We are cats after all
Alanón says: Some of us more so than others
Aríen says: Umm, yea, I just don't think I can join you all the way up there
Pitchblàck mock-glares at Alanón.
Alanón says: Hello love
Aríen smiles at Alanón.
Alanón jumps down to the cannon's base.
Alanón says: Up here should be fine, so long as you both can hear
Pitchblàck says: Kay
Aríen starts scritching Alanon's shoulders.
Alanón says: Pitch, have you seen or spoken with Iluthian lately?
Pitchblàck says: Nope, haven't seen him around
Alanón says: Do you know if he's met Shaurria yet?
Aríen says: Is that the druid Kal mentioned?
Pitchblàck says: Not that I know of
You raise your eyebrow inquisitively at Alanón.
Alanón says: Yes
Aríen says: ....She was, uh, pretty mad at the time, too
Alanón says: What Pitch has told me about him has reminded me of a few things, which I should have thought of before
Pitchblàck says: Mhmm?
Alanón says: You say Shaur is an orphan
Pitchblàck says: Yep. She has Arvoss though, she does alright
Alanón says: That is one of my concerns
Pitchblàck says: Oh?
Alanón says: You saw how Iluthian reacted toward death knights. Unfortunately his opinion is a common one
Aríen frowns.
Pitchblàck twitches his ears.
Pitchblàck says: So?
Alanón says: If word got back to the Circle about a young druid living alone, with no parents... What do you think they'd do?
Aríen blinks. "Hmm..."
Alanón says: And if they hear she's living with a death knight, you can believe they will react that much faster
Pitchblàck says: ....... They wouldn't
Alanón says: Yes they would
Pitchblàck says: But Arvoss wouldn't stand for that. He'd fight them to keep her here.
Alanón says: That is what I hope to avoid
Aríen looks worriedly up at Pitch.
Pitchblàck says: How?
Alanón eyes Aríen.
Alanón says: That's why I asked you to come here
Aríen says: ...Me?
Alanón says: Because my idea will indirectly affect you, because you're with me
Aríen raises her eyebrow inquisitively at Alanón.
Pitchblàck says: .... and? What's the idea?
Alanón says: I would like to officially adopt Shaur
Aríen says: ....Oh
Pitchblàck blinks.
Pitchblàck says: .......That could work....
Aríen looks thoughtful.
Alanón says: If she is my charge, the Circle couldn't touch her
Aríen nods slowly.
Alanón says: She could live here with Arvoss unopposed
Pitchblàck says: But would they let you?
Alanón says: I think so. They don't seem to know about her yet, and if we simply don't mention Arvoss...
Pitchblàck says: ..... but will Arvoss let you?
Alanón says: That is a small problem. How well do you know him?
Pitchblàck says: Not very, aside from getting on his bad side a time or two
Alanón snickers at Pitch.
Aríen gives a slight chuckle.
Alanón says: I need to get his permission first, and if he gives it, see what Shaur thinks
Pitchblàck nods.
Pitchblàck says: I'll bet she agrees
Alanón says: So, do you know where Arvoss is, roughly?
Pitchblàck says: Somewhere near Icecrown, that's all I know
Alanón says: The Citadel?
Pitchblàck nods again.
Alanón says: Then I can find him
Alanón looks back at Aríen.
Alanón says: Would you like to be there?
Aríen says: Sure. I wouldn't mind meeting him myself, actually.
Alanón nods.
Alanón says: I'm heading back myself, so I'll probably track him down tomorrow. Sound good?
Aríen nods at Alanón.
Pitchblàck says: Good luck. He can be a bit... touchy
Alanón says: But he cares for Shaur, more than himself it seems. If he can see that this is best for her, he'll agree
Alanón says: So. I'll see you next time I'm in town, little brother
Pitchblàck says: Yep
You pounce on top of Alanón.
Aríen smiles at you.
Alanón says: .... Pitch
Pitchblàck snickers.
Pitchblàck says: Goodbye, big brother
Aríen chuckles.
Aríen gently pats you.
Pitchblàck purrs.
Thursday, December 24, 2009
Twas the night before Winter Veil...
What have your characters been doing tonight? >.>
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Alanon gave Arien a hand up onto the crenelation overlooking Stormwind's harbor. "I like the view from up here," he explained as they sat down, making themselves comfortable. Arien snuggled close, leaning her head on his shoulder, and he put an arm around her. "Mhmm," she answered. "It's quieter up here, too." They sat and watched the boat for a while, as it ferried people to and from Northrend. There were a fair number of people, even for the late hour and the fact that Winter Veil was the next day.
They had been sitting for several minutes when Alanon broke the silence. "They say it will be months still before we face Arthas," he said thoughtfully. "I wonder what he could get up to in that time." Arien looked at him, eyebrow quirked. "Would, uh, it be bad of me to say I'm glad?" she asked, and he chuckled, then admitted, "I think Barraccus is more eager than I am." She frowned slightly; she had heard the death knight's story, or enough of it. "He would be, he has enough reasons." "Yes, he does," Alanon replied. "Although I think he is waiting until Quae is strong enough to join him. She's pushing herself hard." Arien nodded. "Good, she'll watch his back and keep him from getting in over his head." He gave a half-grin. "Usually seems to be the other way around, but we can hope." She snickered, cuddling closer as he gently squeezed her.
After a moment he continued. "It's both encouraging and sad to see everyone rushing to get on the boats, ready to get to Northrend. I think we'll have the numbers when it's time to assault Icecrown, but at the same time I wonder how many of them will be coming back." Arien said nothing. Alanon idly pulled something from his pocket and began playing with it in his hand. Arien tried to see what it was, but he kept it from view, so casually that she knew he did it on purpose.
"How about some happier thoughts?" he said suddenly. "Anything in particular you're hoping to get for Winter's Veil?" "Hmm...," Arien thought out loud. "Honestly, I'll just be happy to get some free time. I haven't gotten to do much with Kal for a while." Alanon nodded. "Funny thing, my family has never put much thought into the holiday," he told her. "It's, no offense, too much of a human thing." Arien shrugged slightly. "It's the truth." He glanced at her sidelong and went on, "But there are a few parts that I'm growing to like." She looked at him from the corner of her eye. "Like what?" He gave her a small, mischievous grin. "Like this." He held up what he had in his hand. It was a sprig of mistletoe, which he proceeded to hold up above her head. Arien barely had time to recognize what it was before she was quite thoroughly distracted by a kiss.
She finally pulled back, grinning, and flicked his nose gently with a finger. "That was cheating," she said, not sounding convincing at all. He grinned back. "I checked the rules. Surprise is fair play." "Hmmph," was her only response, and he chuckled as he pulled her closer. They went back to cuddling, while the boat below sounded it's horn as it pulled away from the docks.
____________________
Shaurria sat on the Ironforge bank steps with one arm around Pitch's neck, trying to avoid getting stepped on as people crowded by. "So that's the tree that everyone's so excited about?" she asked him, and he nodded. "In the morning that fellow there will allow us to pick out presents, and we'll get to open them," he explained, nodding toward the odd-looking dwarf sitting next to the tree. "People usually give gifts to each other as well. It's a very... active holiday." Shaur just stared at the gaily-decorated tree. "I don't get it," she finally said, and he chuckled. "Neither do I," he admitted. "I don't always come to town during the holiday because it's so crowded. People are too busy rushing around to notice a cat underfoot, even one as big as me. Easy to get stepped on." "Hmmph." She eyed him, then started scratching through his ruff, grinning when he started purring. After a bit a rather large dwarf almost tripped over them, cursing as he caught himself and moved on. Shaur frowned. "Can we go someplace else now?" she asked. "Yeah," he said. "Let's head back to Stormwind."
They were soon back in the Park, where Pitch sat next to the moonwell and watched as Shaur poked among the trees. "What are you doing?" he called to her, but she just waved a hand at him. She suddenly bent, picking up a fallen branch, and made her way back to him. He eyed it, then her. "What's that for?" Shaur frowned a little as she studied the branch. "M'gonna make somethin' for Arvoss," she said, then fumbled her little knife out of her belt pouch and started carving at it. Pitch watched in fascination for awhile, but soon grew bored and curled up at her feet, falling asleep to the sound of her whittling.
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Was going to do bits for more characters, but it's abominably late and I need sleep. Merry Christmas everyone!
________________
Alanon gave Arien a hand up onto the crenelation overlooking Stormwind's harbor. "I like the view from up here," he explained as they sat down, making themselves comfortable. Arien snuggled close, leaning her head on his shoulder, and he put an arm around her. "Mhmm," she answered. "It's quieter up here, too." They sat and watched the boat for a while, as it ferried people to and from Northrend. There were a fair number of people, even for the late hour and the fact that Winter Veil was the next day.
They had been sitting for several minutes when Alanon broke the silence. "They say it will be months still before we face Arthas," he said thoughtfully. "I wonder what he could get up to in that time." Arien looked at him, eyebrow quirked. "Would, uh, it be bad of me to say I'm glad?" she asked, and he chuckled, then admitted, "I think Barraccus is more eager than I am." She frowned slightly; she had heard the death knight's story, or enough of it. "He would be, he has enough reasons." "Yes, he does," Alanon replied. "Although I think he is waiting until Quae is strong enough to join him. She's pushing herself hard." Arien nodded. "Good, she'll watch his back and keep him from getting in over his head." He gave a half-grin. "Usually seems to be the other way around, but we can hope." She snickered, cuddling closer as he gently squeezed her.
After a moment he continued. "It's both encouraging and sad to see everyone rushing to get on the boats, ready to get to Northrend. I think we'll have the numbers when it's time to assault Icecrown, but at the same time I wonder how many of them will be coming back." Arien said nothing. Alanon idly pulled something from his pocket and began playing with it in his hand. Arien tried to see what it was, but he kept it from view, so casually that she knew he did it on purpose.
"How about some happier thoughts?" he said suddenly. "Anything in particular you're hoping to get for Winter's Veil?" "Hmm...," Arien thought out loud. "Honestly, I'll just be happy to get some free time. I haven't gotten to do much with Kal for a while." Alanon nodded. "Funny thing, my family has never put much thought into the holiday," he told her. "It's, no offense, too much of a human thing." Arien shrugged slightly. "It's the truth." He glanced at her sidelong and went on, "But there are a few parts that I'm growing to like." She looked at him from the corner of her eye. "Like what?" He gave her a small, mischievous grin. "Like this." He held up what he had in his hand. It was a sprig of mistletoe, which he proceeded to hold up above her head. Arien barely had time to recognize what it was before she was quite thoroughly distracted by a kiss.
She finally pulled back, grinning, and flicked his nose gently with a finger. "That was cheating," she said, not sounding convincing at all. He grinned back. "I checked the rules. Surprise is fair play." "Hmmph," was her only response, and he chuckled as he pulled her closer. They went back to cuddling, while the boat below sounded it's horn as it pulled away from the docks.
____________________
Shaurria sat on the Ironforge bank steps with one arm around Pitch's neck, trying to avoid getting stepped on as people crowded by. "So that's the tree that everyone's so excited about?" she asked him, and he nodded. "In the morning that fellow there will allow us to pick out presents, and we'll get to open them," he explained, nodding toward the odd-looking dwarf sitting next to the tree. "People usually give gifts to each other as well. It's a very... active holiday." Shaur just stared at the gaily-decorated tree. "I don't get it," she finally said, and he chuckled. "Neither do I," he admitted. "I don't always come to town during the holiday because it's so crowded. People are too busy rushing around to notice a cat underfoot, even one as big as me. Easy to get stepped on." "Hmmph." She eyed him, then started scratching through his ruff, grinning when he started purring. After a bit a rather large dwarf almost tripped over them, cursing as he caught himself and moved on. Shaur frowned. "Can we go someplace else now?" she asked. "Yeah," he said. "Let's head back to Stormwind."
They were soon back in the Park, where Pitch sat next to the moonwell and watched as Shaur poked among the trees. "What are you doing?" he called to her, but she just waved a hand at him. She suddenly bent, picking up a fallen branch, and made her way back to him. He eyed it, then her. "What's that for?" Shaur frowned a little as she studied the branch. "M'gonna make somethin' for Arvoss," she said, then fumbled her little knife out of her belt pouch and started carving at it. Pitch watched in fascination for awhile, but soon grew bored and curled up at her feet, falling asleep to the sound of her whittling.
________________
Was going to do bits for more characters, but it's abominably late and I need sleep. Merry Christmas everyone!
Thursday, December 10, 2009
Alanon and Arien: Ashenvale
Been meaning to write this up for ages, but my sister and I just never got around to it. We finally started on it a few weeks ago, but it was further delayed by writer's blocks, other posts, and just playing the game instead of writing. But it's finally finished!
This is a collaboration between myself and my sister, with my druid and her pally who have been "together" for a few months now. Alanon had asked her to come see his home in Ashenvale ages ago, but they've been kept busy. With the lull before the Horde and Alliance hit Icecrown, they finally found time to slip off. Enjoy!
(Also- PG warning >.>)
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Alanon met Arien in Darnassus, and together they flew down to Astranaar. They rode down to the house from there, talking some but mostly just enjoying the other's company. They arrived and stabled their mounts, then Alanon led her inside. "I'll start supper," he said. "Feel free to look around. I'll give you the full tour later." He grinned at her, and she returned it before heading into the main room. She perused the books on the shelves, then turned to the various knick-knacks.
Arien's attention was drawn to a small portrait on the side table. Picking it up, she studied it. It showed two Night elf females, both in Sentinel armor. The older one looked sober and reserved, but the younger's expression was cheerful, mischievous even. Arien peered closer. The younger one actually bore a strong resemblance to...
Alanon cleared his throat next to her. She hadn't even heard him come up. "I see you found them already," he said, laying a steadying hand on her shoulder as she jumped. "Sorry," he added, chuckling, and she smiled at him briefly before returning to the portrait. "Who are they?" she asked him.
He didn't answer for a long time, until she finally looked at him. He was staring at the picture, his expression a mixture of affection and sadness. "The older is Jaryla," he said at last. "She was my best friend; we grew up together. We were... together, off and on ever since, but never got serious; neither of us wanted anything more. The other..." He trailed off, then gently took the picture from her, studying it intently. "The other is Indria," he finished. "My daughter." He handed it back.
Arien blinked as she took it. "Daughter? B-but you never mentioned having any kids." He smiled faintly. "You never asked." Arien opened her mouth, then closed it, conceding the point. She looked at the picture again, then carefully set it back on the table. "Where are they now?" she asked as she followed him to the couch and sat. He paused before sitting down beside her. "What do you know of the battle for Hyjal? At the end of the Third War." Arien thought hard for a few seconds. "Um, not much, I'm afraid. The Cathedral mostly just taught us more recent things, and all of it centered around the Church's viewpoint. I believe a lot of records and things from Hyjal were lost, soon after the battle. At least, the humans' copies were." "I was there," he told her. She looked up at him, eyes going wide. "So were the others. Quae and I worked with the healers, Pitch, Jahira and Kel were scouts." He paused and sniffed the air. "One second, need to rescue our supper."
Once they had their food and were settled back on the couch, Alanon picked up his tale. "The Burning Legion was making for Mount Hyjal, the site of Nordrassil, the World Tree. And the Well of Eternity." Arien blinked. "But they didn't reach it, obviously." "No, we fought them off," he said. "It was quite a sight. The Night Elves together with the human's Alliance, and the orcs of the Horde. You should have seen it." He paused. "Jaryla thought the alliance wouldn't last more than a week after the battle. Turned out she was right, though-" He stopped himself, shaking his head. "I'm getting ahead of myself. We got there in time to set up base at the foot of the Tree, then the demons were on us." His face darkened. "They brought Scourge with them too."
"We fought them off while Malfurion Stormrage attempted to summon the wisps. Their leader, Archimonde, did manage to reach Nordrassil and attempted to take its power for his own, but Malfurion blew the Horn of Cenarius before he did, and the wisps destroyed him." Arien just listened as he spoke, eyes wide. When he finished, she quickly asked, "But what about Ja-.. Jaryla and your daughter?" He looked off into space for a minute before he answered. "They were part of a scout squad defending our eastern flank, keeping watch for any surprise attacks. While they were on patrol, a massive group of the Legion came upon them, in the exact maneuver that they were trying to prevent. There were too many demons, however, and the whole squad was lost." Arien simply looked at him for a moment, then reached for his hand. "I'm sorry," she said softly. He shrugged slightly. "When you live as long as we do, you learn to live with loss. It hurt for a while, a long while actually, but it's passed." She just sat still after that, looking sadly thoughtful, gently stroking the back of his hand with her thumb. Alanon suddenly stood, pulling her up with him. "I didn't ask you to come here just to listen to old, sad stories," he said. "How about that tour?" He released her hand to pick up their empty plates, holding them up with a grin. "Starting with the kitchen?"
Arien helped him clean up their supper dishes, then he showed her around outside first, while there was still some light. He showed her the herb beds, then pointed out Pitch's favorite den, under a massive tree root nearby. It quickly grew too dark to see, and they returned inside where he continued the tour. He waited patiently while she examined Quae's bookshelves, then finally led her upstairs. "It's not much," he told her as she looked around. "But it's a place to sleep, and there's usually not many of us here anyway. With Quae and Barraccus gone and Pitch in Northrend, it's been empty for a while now."
Arien looked around the large, open upper floor. There were four beds spread along three walls, interspersed with small bedside tables and a pair of dressers. The fourth wall was a balcony left open to the outside, allowing the cool night breeze to blow in. Alanon cleared his throat, and she turned to look at him. "I, uh, probably should have said something before now," he said, looking a bit... embarrassed? "But, I was hoping you would spend the night here tonight." She blinked at him- was he asking what she thought he was?- then felt herself blush slightly as she realized that yes, he was. Alanon took her hand. "Arien, I love you," he told her softly. "I've been in love with you for weeks now. And while I would like to go further than where we are now, nothing is going to happen tonight if you don't want it to." He squeezed her hand gently.
She just looked at him for a minute or two, blushing faintly, indecision warring on her face. Then she took a deep breath, offering a small smile, and stepped closer. Reaching up with her free hand, she pulled his head down and kissed him soundly. Their arms went around each other, and she didn't protest when he lifted her up and moved toward the nearest bed.
* * * * *
Alanon woke shivering in the pale pre-dawn light. It took him a moment to remember why he was lying in bed at home, with no covers and a very warm body pressed close against him. He looked down at his side and stifled a chuckle. Arien was cuddled up at his side, her head on his chest, and was also half-uncovered; the blankets were twisted around and trapped underneath her. He tried pulling them loose, to no avail, then he looked at her again and forgot what he was doing. She looked so beautiful in the faint gray light. Helpless too, but he knew that wasn't true. He reached over and gently brushed some stray hair off her forehead, then suddenly frowned as she shivered. The winter morning was cold, and a chilly breeze was blowing in from the balcony. He gave the blankets one more tug, then gave up. Gently easing away from her, he got enough distance to change without waking her, though she reached for him with an unhappy sound when he moved away. He quickly turned cat, then lay back down, curling up around her. She snuggled in close again, her fingers burrowing into his thick coat, and gave a contented sigh. Smiling to himself, Alanon went back to sleep.
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Collaborating with this was fun. Hopefully we'll get to do some more with these guys soon. And it seems there's quite a bit of romance going around; to see what I mean, check here. >.>
This is a collaboration between myself and my sister, with my druid and her pally who have been "together" for a few months now. Alanon had asked her to come see his home in Ashenvale ages ago, but they've been kept busy. With the lull before the Horde and Alliance hit Icecrown, they finally found time to slip off. Enjoy!
(Also- PG warning >.>)
__________________________
Alanon met Arien in Darnassus, and together they flew down to Astranaar. They rode down to the house from there, talking some but mostly just enjoying the other's company. They arrived and stabled their mounts, then Alanon led her inside. "I'll start supper," he said. "Feel free to look around. I'll give you the full tour later." He grinned at her, and she returned it before heading into the main room. She perused the books on the shelves, then turned to the various knick-knacks.
Arien's attention was drawn to a small portrait on the side table. Picking it up, she studied it. It showed two Night elf females, both in Sentinel armor. The older one looked sober and reserved, but the younger's expression was cheerful, mischievous even. Arien peered closer. The younger one actually bore a strong resemblance to...
Alanon cleared his throat next to her. She hadn't even heard him come up. "I see you found them already," he said, laying a steadying hand on her shoulder as she jumped. "Sorry," he added, chuckling, and she smiled at him briefly before returning to the portrait. "Who are they?" she asked him.
He didn't answer for a long time, until she finally looked at him. He was staring at the picture, his expression a mixture of affection and sadness. "The older is Jaryla," he said at last. "She was my best friend; we grew up together. We were... together, off and on ever since, but never got serious; neither of us wanted anything more. The other..." He trailed off, then gently took the picture from her, studying it intently. "The other is Indria," he finished. "My daughter." He handed it back.
Arien blinked as she took it. "Daughter? B-but you never mentioned having any kids." He smiled faintly. "You never asked." Arien opened her mouth, then closed it, conceding the point. She looked at the picture again, then carefully set it back on the table. "Where are they now?" she asked as she followed him to the couch and sat. He paused before sitting down beside her. "What do you know of the battle for Hyjal? At the end of the Third War." Arien thought hard for a few seconds. "Um, not much, I'm afraid. The Cathedral mostly just taught us more recent things, and all of it centered around the Church's viewpoint. I believe a lot of records and things from Hyjal were lost, soon after the battle. At least, the humans' copies were." "I was there," he told her. She looked up at him, eyes going wide. "So were the others. Quae and I worked with the healers, Pitch, Jahira and Kel were scouts." He paused and sniffed the air. "One second, need to rescue our supper."
Once they had their food and were settled back on the couch, Alanon picked up his tale. "The Burning Legion was making for Mount Hyjal, the site of Nordrassil, the World Tree. And the Well of Eternity." Arien blinked. "But they didn't reach it, obviously." "No, we fought them off," he said. "It was quite a sight. The Night Elves together with the human's Alliance, and the orcs of the Horde. You should have seen it." He paused. "Jaryla thought the alliance wouldn't last more than a week after the battle. Turned out she was right, though-" He stopped himself, shaking his head. "I'm getting ahead of myself. We got there in time to set up base at the foot of the Tree, then the demons were on us." His face darkened. "They brought Scourge with them too."
"We fought them off while Malfurion Stormrage attempted to summon the wisps. Their leader, Archimonde, did manage to reach Nordrassil and attempted to take its power for his own, but Malfurion blew the Horn of Cenarius before he did, and the wisps destroyed him." Arien just listened as he spoke, eyes wide. When he finished, she quickly asked, "But what about Ja-.. Jaryla and your daughter?" He looked off into space for a minute before he answered. "They were part of a scout squad defending our eastern flank, keeping watch for any surprise attacks. While they were on patrol, a massive group of the Legion came upon them, in the exact maneuver that they were trying to prevent. There were too many demons, however, and the whole squad was lost." Arien simply looked at him for a moment, then reached for his hand. "I'm sorry," she said softly. He shrugged slightly. "When you live as long as we do, you learn to live with loss. It hurt for a while, a long while actually, but it's passed." She just sat still after that, looking sadly thoughtful, gently stroking the back of his hand with her thumb. Alanon suddenly stood, pulling her up with him. "I didn't ask you to come here just to listen to old, sad stories," he said. "How about that tour?" He released her hand to pick up their empty plates, holding them up with a grin. "Starting with the kitchen?"
Arien helped him clean up their supper dishes, then he showed her around outside first, while there was still some light. He showed her the herb beds, then pointed out Pitch's favorite den, under a massive tree root nearby. It quickly grew too dark to see, and they returned inside where he continued the tour. He waited patiently while she examined Quae's bookshelves, then finally led her upstairs. "It's not much," he told her as she looked around. "But it's a place to sleep, and there's usually not many of us here anyway. With Quae and Barraccus gone and Pitch in Northrend, it's been empty for a while now."
Arien looked around the large, open upper floor. There were four beds spread along three walls, interspersed with small bedside tables and a pair of dressers. The fourth wall was a balcony left open to the outside, allowing the cool night breeze to blow in. Alanon cleared his throat, and she turned to look at him. "I, uh, probably should have said something before now," he said, looking a bit... embarrassed? "But, I was hoping you would spend the night here tonight." She blinked at him- was he asking what she thought he was?- then felt herself blush slightly as she realized that yes, he was. Alanon took her hand. "Arien, I love you," he told her softly. "I've been in love with you for weeks now. And while I would like to go further than where we are now, nothing is going to happen tonight if you don't want it to." He squeezed her hand gently.
She just looked at him for a minute or two, blushing faintly, indecision warring on her face. Then she took a deep breath, offering a small smile, and stepped closer. Reaching up with her free hand, she pulled his head down and kissed him soundly. Their arms went around each other, and she didn't protest when he lifted her up and moved toward the nearest bed.
* * * * *
Alanon woke shivering in the pale pre-dawn light. It took him a moment to remember why he was lying in bed at home, with no covers and a very warm body pressed close against him. He looked down at his side and stifled a chuckle. Arien was cuddled up at his side, her head on his chest, and was also half-uncovered; the blankets were twisted around and trapped underneath her. He tried pulling them loose, to no avail, then he looked at her again and forgot what he was doing. She looked so beautiful in the faint gray light. Helpless too, but he knew that wasn't true. He reached over and gently brushed some stray hair off her forehead, then suddenly frowned as she shivered. The winter morning was cold, and a chilly breeze was blowing in from the balcony. He gave the blankets one more tug, then gave up. Gently easing away from her, he got enough distance to change without waking her, though she reached for him with an unhappy sound when he moved away. He quickly turned cat, then lay back down, curling up around her. She snuggled in close again, her fingers burrowing into his thick coat, and gave a contented sigh. Smiling to himself, Alanon went back to sleep.
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Collaborating with this was fun. Hopefully we'll get to do some more with these guys soon. And it seems there's quite a bit of romance going around; to see what I mean, check here. >.>
Monday, November 30, 2009
Alanon: Hyjal
I've been wanting to write something about Alanon for days now, but couldn't think of any ideas. Then yesterday at work, Inspiration Struck. So here you go, a story from Alanon's past. Enjoy!
(Massive Wall of Text Warning!!)
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Alanon was watching for them to come, but the horn calls still surprised him. He quickly moved through the healers' camp, to the edge where he could see. The Second Unit of the Night Elves' elite scouts rode past at a fast walk, mounts still dancing despite the hard journey. Alanon scanned faces as they went by, finally finding the two he sought. Jaryla kept her face forward, posture ramrod straight, though she did smile briefly at him as she went by. Indria, on the other hand, broke into a huge grin and waved when she saw him. He hid his own grin, waving back quickly before she was reprimanded by the squad's commander. Jaryla rolled her eyes at her daughter, then they were past and out of sight. He returned to the healers' tents.
They found him there shortly before dusk. His only warning was a whoop of delight, then Indria had him wrapped in an exuberant hug. He hugged her back, chuckling, as Jaryla came up. "Alright, Ria. I'm an old man, don't break me." She snorted at him. "You're not that old, Father," she teased back. "Is Quae around here somewhere?" "Yes," he answered. "And Pitch and Jahira are with the local scouts. Kel is.... well, I don't know. Probably wherever Dracoth is." "I'm gonna go find Quae then," she said, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek before she ran off. Alanon chuckled again, then turned to his lifelong best friend. "Ryla," he said in greeting. "How have you been?" "Same as usual," she replied. "You're looking good. Are you seeing anyone currently? I can never remember." His face clouded briefly. "No, no one since..." "Yes, her," she said darkly. He grabbed her arm. "Ryla, it's past. Don't start up again, please." She regarded him for a moment. "If that's what you want, Alanon. Hey, if you don't have plans, why don't you stop by for supper?" She looked him up and down, then winked. "And maybe for the night?" He laughed. "I'd be happy to."
* * * * * *
Jaryla's cooking was infinitely preferable to anything to be found in the healers' camp. After supper Indria excused herself, leaving her parents alone. The two Elves sat on a hillside, looking at the bustle all around. "Look at that," Alanon said softly. "Who'd have thought we would be allied with humans, let alone the races of the Horde?" Jaryla snorted. "It's necessary to defeat the Legion. I don't believe it will last one week past the end of this battle, whether we win or lose." He looked at her sharply, but let it drop, saying instead, "It's good to see you again. I've missed both of you." She smiled at him. "We've been busy, otherwise we'd visit more often. Ria misses her father a lot." "You wouldn't know it from the way she keeps running off," he chuckled. "I've seen her for all of an hour total so far." Jaryla grinned at him. "She'll settle down. You'll probably be tired of her by tomorrow's end." "Not likely," he answered softly. They sat in companionable silence for several minutes, then Jaryla took his hand and tugged. "It's getting late, and I'd like some sleep before daybreak," she said. He let her pull him to his feet, then followed her back to her tent.
They were both gone by the time he woke the next morning. Probably receiving their assignments. He dressed quickly, then returned to the healers' camp. Quae met him at his own tent, eyebrow arched and a knowing grin on her face. He ignored her and ducked inside, then looked around the tent. His cot was against one wall, with his travel chest at the foot. The rest of the tent was crowded with rolls of bandages, pots filled with salves or steeping herbs, crates packed with bottles or jars, and the like. Bunches of herbs, both dried and fresh, hung from the ceiling poles, giving the tent an interesting fragrance. Quae had followed him in, and stood looking around as well. "Do you think you have enough supplies here, brother?" she asked. He paid no attention to the sarcasm, and she sighed in frustration. "I have my things ready," she told him. "Elune will give me most of what I need, anyway." He glanced at her with a raised eyebrow. "And what if someone needs an elixir or ointment you don't have?" She grinned cheekily at him. "Then I'll just send them to you." He rolled his eyes and gave up.
Indria did find him later that morning. She followed him around for a good while, chattering constantly, and he tried to hide his grin at her enthusiasm. Finally Jaryla came to collect her daughter. "We need to go start our patrol, so we're familiar with it before the demons get here. Go get your gear together and your saber saddled." As Indria rushed off, Jaryla stood beside Alanon for a bit, taking in all the healers' preparations. "The demons have been sighted," she told him. "They're no more than two or three days off. Elune send that we won't need all this, though my gut tells me different." Alanon paused to look at her. "Where will you be patrolling?" he asked. "The back side of the mountain," she replied. "East. Not a terribly difficult route, but seems the most likely for a flanking attempt. If the demons think that far ahead." "Don't underestimate them," Alanon warned. "They can be tricky enough. Just look at what they did back in the First War." She shook her head. "I won't, Alanon. It just makes it... easier." She watched him for awhile as he packed up boxes of bandages, ready to be taken out to the field. "We should just make it back by dark," she finally said. "Want to swing by for supper again?" He nodded without stopping his work, and she left him, heading to her duty.
The following two days passed in a blur of activity, as all aspects of the army prepared for the coming demons. By the end of the second day, Alanon had run out of things to do. Pitch stopped by at sundown, the younger druid having grown bored sitting about the camp, and Alanon started a wrestling match with him just for something to do. The other healers stopped and watched the two cats, one jet-black, the other a dark smoky gray, as they tumbled around the tents. Their play was interrupted by horn calls, and the entire camp seemed to go on alert, staring as a whole at the hill where the call originated. "Demons in view!" called the sentry. "The Legion's coming!" The camp burst into motion all at once. The two druids looked at each other, then both went to their respective posts.
Alanon hardly slept that night. He kept getting up to make sure all was ready: splints and bandages, potions and elixirs, the dried herbs ready to be made into teas. And the potions of dreamfoil, for when nothing else could be done. He tried not to look at them any more than necessary. At last he fell into an uneasy sleep, filled with dreams he couldn't remember.
* * * * * *
The demons attacked just before dawn. The sounds woke Alanon, and he tumbled from his cot in a rush, dressing as quickly as he could and heading outside. The first wounded arrived shortly after, and he set to work with the others. He tried to use his healing spells as little as possible to save his energy, knowing it would be a long day. The most lightly wounded, however, he did heal with magic, so they could get back into the fray quickly. The day stretched on forever, and he wound up working far into the night, until at last he collapsed into his cot. He briefly wondered how his siblings were faring before he fell into exhausted sleep.
The next day was a repeat of the first, at least until Jaryla found him. He finished with the soldier he was treating, then turned and gave her a long hug before pulling back and looking at her. She looked as exhausted as he felt, her armor dusty and dinged in places. "How are things going out there?" he asked her quietly. "We're holding them, but barely," she replied. "Alanon... it's not just demons. They have undead, Scourge, in their ranks as well. And their cursed necromancers are raising our own dead against us, Elune blast them." She sighed and shook her head. "All we have to do is hold them back until Malfurion does whatever he's supposed to do, but I'm starting to wonder how long we'll last." He frowned worriedly. "Have you seen the others anywhere?" "I saw Kel at one point, sniping away with her pet bear." "Bear?... Oh, Dracoth. Any of the rest?" She shook her head. "I'm sorry, Alanon, but I'm sure they're okay," she said comfortingly. "I need to get back now, Indria and the others need me." He nodded, then with a final hug he let her go, watching her move off through the bustle. Soon he was distracted by another wave of wounded arriving, and he set back to work.
Pitch came in later that afternoon, to get a large cut on his arm looked at. As Alanon mended the bloody gash, then wrapped a bandage around it for protection, the younger druid told him what he knew. "They're pressing us from all sides. I don't think we can hold them much longer, but we can fall back if we have to- regroup on the slopes. Jahira's been with me, she's fine, and I've seen Kel a few times." Alanon nodded as he finished with his brother's arm. "Be careful, little brother. We don't know what they are planning." Pitch nodded absently, then headed back to the front.
The demons did break through soon after that, and the allied armies fell back to their second point of defense. More wounded came pouring in, a few of them requiring Alanon's dreamfoil potions. He tried to distance himself as he gave the potions, watching them fall into a sleep they would never wake from. But often he would imagine the soldier was someone he knew.
The third day was even bloodier than the previous two. The Legion pushed through again, and the Alliance and Horde armies fell back to the third point. Now they were almost at Nordrassil's base. Alanon could hear the fighting, could see it if he went to the edge of the camp, but he tried to push it from his mind. Then the runner came.
"They attacked from the east side, behind us," he told the others gathered around him quickly. "Big group. We're holding them off best we can, but Light send Malfurion is ready soon." With that the human clapped his helmet back on and continued on to the general's camps. Alanon stared after him, then looked toward the far eastern mountain slopes. Jaryla, Indria, how are you faring? he wondered. But duty soon called again, and he was left with no time for worry.
Another runner came in the early afternoon, and called them together. "We need volunteers to go to the front lines," he said. "Our numbers are growing too thin. If we don't hold them off here, we'll have no need for healers anyway." Alanon looked around as people started shuffling forward. He spotted Quae near the back, and she caught his eye, then slowly nodded. He nodded back, then stepped forward himself.
* * * * * *
The battle was hectic. Demons of all types, with Scourge filling in the gaps, were pressing forward relentlessly. Alanon, in his bear form, stood shoulder-to-shoulder with the others, supporting and holding the line. He shifted out and cast his healing spells whenever he could, to aid the others as much as possible. Soon he was joined by a smaller white bear and a black panther. He spared a brief nod to his brother and sister, then focused back on the fray.
The horn sounded just before sundown. The battle paused, and Alanon watched with the rest as Hyjal's wisps all descended on Archimonde, then detonated. The explosion shook the entire mountain. Then, at last, it was over. He looked to Pitch and Jahira, then the three druids started moving among the nearby fallen, to give what aid they could. Jahira and Alanon cast their healing spells, while Pitch helped to move some of the bodies. They worked until it was too dark to see, then gave it over to the healer squads that began moving through with torches.
The druids all returned to Alanon's tent. Kel and Dracoth stopped by to check on them, and Alanon was relieved to see his older sister and his friend were okay. They sat around a small campfire, talking together wearily. "Alanon," Quae asked him, "have you heard from Jaryla or Indria yet?" "No," he said softly, worry creasing his forehead. His younger sister reached over and took his hand. "They're tough," she said comfortingly. "I'm sure they made it all right." But doubt showed on her face, mirrored on his own.
A runner came the next morning. Alanon's siblings had stayed to help the healers; even Kel wrapped bandages with them. Alanon paused what he was doing and called the Night Elf over. "Have you heard anything from the Second Unit scouts?" The Elf looked at him carefully. "The attack from the eastern side," he finally answered, "almost overwhelmed us. We're not completely sure yet, but it doesn't look good." After the man left, Alanon went out to the edge of the camp and just stood, staring out toward the eastern slopes. Quae came up behind him, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Don't give up hope yet. Maybe they'll turn up tomorrow," she told him. Alanon replied softly, "Ryla never did like it when I worried. She knew I wouldn't rest until I knew they were safe." Quae couldn't think of an answer to that. She just stood by him, offering what comfort she could. At last Alanon turned back to the camp and returned to his work.
It was confirmed the following day. Groups had been dispatched to clean up any remaining enemies and look for survivors. The group sent to the eastern side came upon where the Second Unit had made their stand. It looked like they had given an excellent account for themselves, but the demons had proved too much. There were no survivors.
When Alanon heard the news, he left the camp, walking toward Nordrassil. He stopped at the base of the great Tree and stood there, shoulders shaking. Jahira, Quae and Pitch found him there. Jahira and Quae looked at each other helplessly, but Pitch went to his brother and sat next to him, sticking his nose into Alanon's hand. After a moment, the hand moved to his back, gripping the longer fur there tightly as the druid-cat whined softly.
* * * * * *
Quae found Alanon the next morning at daybreak, sitting on a fallen log. The morning was quiet, most of the army having left long before. Only the wounded were left, and they were setting out too, as soon as they were well enough to travel. Quae sat down next to her brother, glancing up at him. He stared straight ahead, not moving, but she knew he was aware of her. His face still looked haggard, though his eyes were clear. She cleared her throat.
"Alanon, are you alright?" He didn't answer at first. She waited patiently. Finally he broke the silence. "I still see them, when I close my eyes. It's hard to believe that they're gone," he said softly, his voice just above a whisper. Quae took his hand. "We all miss them, Alanon. But it'll be okay." "I know," he replied. "It's just... I've known her forever, you know. We grew up together. I never thought that she would be gone." He cleared his own throat roughly. "And Indria, oh gods. Her life was still just beginning." He stopped, swallowing hard.
Quae squeezed his hand gently, then sat quietly, looking around. The damage from the battle was apparent even here, but several groups were staying behind, to clear up and see what help they could give the World Tree. After several minutes she spoke again. "I'm coming home with you guys," she said. "To Ashenvale." He eyed her. "I can't imagine our parents would agree to that, to say nothing of the Temple." "Oh, they didn't like it. But I'm old enough to start making my own decisions. As to the Temple, well, they don't control me whatever they might think. It's not like I'm moving too far away to continue my training; if anything, you all are closer." Alanon grunted.
They sat together until the sun was well up, then returned to his tent. Kel and Dracoth were saying their goodbyes as they arrived, and after they left the others began packing up. Alanon left most of his herbal supplies for the healers staying behind; he could always replace them. Soon enough they were ready to go, and the druids and priestess all headed toward home.
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I'm working on another for Alanon, and have a Shaurria story almost finished. Love it when my writer's block goes away. Til next time, Happy Hunting!
(Massive Wall of Text Warning!!)
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Alanon was watching for them to come, but the horn calls still surprised him. He quickly moved through the healers' camp, to the edge where he could see. The Second Unit of the Night Elves' elite scouts rode past at a fast walk, mounts still dancing despite the hard journey. Alanon scanned faces as they went by, finally finding the two he sought. Jaryla kept her face forward, posture ramrod straight, though she did smile briefly at him as she went by. Indria, on the other hand, broke into a huge grin and waved when she saw him. He hid his own grin, waving back quickly before she was reprimanded by the squad's commander. Jaryla rolled her eyes at her daughter, then they were past and out of sight. He returned to the healers' tents.
They found him there shortly before dusk. His only warning was a whoop of delight, then Indria had him wrapped in an exuberant hug. He hugged her back, chuckling, as Jaryla came up. "Alright, Ria. I'm an old man, don't break me." She snorted at him. "You're not that old, Father," she teased back. "Is Quae around here somewhere?" "Yes," he answered. "And Pitch and Jahira are with the local scouts. Kel is.... well, I don't know. Probably wherever Dracoth is." "I'm gonna go find Quae then," she said, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek before she ran off. Alanon chuckled again, then turned to his lifelong best friend. "Ryla," he said in greeting. "How have you been?" "Same as usual," she replied. "You're looking good. Are you seeing anyone currently? I can never remember." His face clouded briefly. "No, no one since..." "Yes, her," she said darkly. He grabbed her arm. "Ryla, it's past. Don't start up again, please." She regarded him for a moment. "If that's what you want, Alanon. Hey, if you don't have plans, why don't you stop by for supper?" She looked him up and down, then winked. "And maybe for the night?" He laughed. "I'd be happy to."
* * * * * *
Jaryla's cooking was infinitely preferable to anything to be found in the healers' camp. After supper Indria excused herself, leaving her parents alone. The two Elves sat on a hillside, looking at the bustle all around. "Look at that," Alanon said softly. "Who'd have thought we would be allied with humans, let alone the races of the Horde?" Jaryla snorted. "It's necessary to defeat the Legion. I don't believe it will last one week past the end of this battle, whether we win or lose." He looked at her sharply, but let it drop, saying instead, "It's good to see you again. I've missed both of you." She smiled at him. "We've been busy, otherwise we'd visit more often. Ria misses her father a lot." "You wouldn't know it from the way she keeps running off," he chuckled. "I've seen her for all of an hour total so far." Jaryla grinned at him. "She'll settle down. You'll probably be tired of her by tomorrow's end." "Not likely," he answered softly. They sat in companionable silence for several minutes, then Jaryla took his hand and tugged. "It's getting late, and I'd like some sleep before daybreak," she said. He let her pull him to his feet, then followed her back to her tent.
They were both gone by the time he woke the next morning. Probably receiving their assignments. He dressed quickly, then returned to the healers' camp. Quae met him at his own tent, eyebrow arched and a knowing grin on her face. He ignored her and ducked inside, then looked around the tent. His cot was against one wall, with his travel chest at the foot. The rest of the tent was crowded with rolls of bandages, pots filled with salves or steeping herbs, crates packed with bottles or jars, and the like. Bunches of herbs, both dried and fresh, hung from the ceiling poles, giving the tent an interesting fragrance. Quae had followed him in, and stood looking around as well. "Do you think you have enough supplies here, brother?" she asked. He paid no attention to the sarcasm, and she sighed in frustration. "I have my things ready," she told him. "Elune will give me most of what I need, anyway." He glanced at her with a raised eyebrow. "And what if someone needs an elixir or ointment you don't have?" She grinned cheekily at him. "Then I'll just send them to you." He rolled his eyes and gave up.
Indria did find him later that morning. She followed him around for a good while, chattering constantly, and he tried to hide his grin at her enthusiasm. Finally Jaryla came to collect her daughter. "We need to go start our patrol, so we're familiar with it before the demons get here. Go get your gear together and your saber saddled." As Indria rushed off, Jaryla stood beside Alanon for a bit, taking in all the healers' preparations. "The demons have been sighted," she told him. "They're no more than two or three days off. Elune send that we won't need all this, though my gut tells me different." Alanon paused to look at her. "Where will you be patrolling?" he asked. "The back side of the mountain," she replied. "East. Not a terribly difficult route, but seems the most likely for a flanking attempt. If the demons think that far ahead." "Don't underestimate them," Alanon warned. "They can be tricky enough. Just look at what they did back in the First War." She shook her head. "I won't, Alanon. It just makes it... easier." She watched him for awhile as he packed up boxes of bandages, ready to be taken out to the field. "We should just make it back by dark," she finally said. "Want to swing by for supper again?" He nodded without stopping his work, and she left him, heading to her duty.
The following two days passed in a blur of activity, as all aspects of the army prepared for the coming demons. By the end of the second day, Alanon had run out of things to do. Pitch stopped by at sundown, the younger druid having grown bored sitting about the camp, and Alanon started a wrestling match with him just for something to do. The other healers stopped and watched the two cats, one jet-black, the other a dark smoky gray, as they tumbled around the tents. Their play was interrupted by horn calls, and the entire camp seemed to go on alert, staring as a whole at the hill where the call originated. "Demons in view!" called the sentry. "The Legion's coming!" The camp burst into motion all at once. The two druids looked at each other, then both went to their respective posts.
Alanon hardly slept that night. He kept getting up to make sure all was ready: splints and bandages, potions and elixirs, the dried herbs ready to be made into teas. And the potions of dreamfoil, for when nothing else could be done. He tried not to look at them any more than necessary. At last he fell into an uneasy sleep, filled with dreams he couldn't remember.
* * * * * *
The demons attacked just before dawn. The sounds woke Alanon, and he tumbled from his cot in a rush, dressing as quickly as he could and heading outside. The first wounded arrived shortly after, and he set to work with the others. He tried to use his healing spells as little as possible to save his energy, knowing it would be a long day. The most lightly wounded, however, he did heal with magic, so they could get back into the fray quickly. The day stretched on forever, and he wound up working far into the night, until at last he collapsed into his cot. He briefly wondered how his siblings were faring before he fell into exhausted sleep.
The next day was a repeat of the first, at least until Jaryla found him. He finished with the soldier he was treating, then turned and gave her a long hug before pulling back and looking at her. She looked as exhausted as he felt, her armor dusty and dinged in places. "How are things going out there?" he asked her quietly. "We're holding them, but barely," she replied. "Alanon... it's not just demons. They have undead, Scourge, in their ranks as well. And their cursed necromancers are raising our own dead against us, Elune blast them." She sighed and shook her head. "All we have to do is hold them back until Malfurion does whatever he's supposed to do, but I'm starting to wonder how long we'll last." He frowned worriedly. "Have you seen the others anywhere?" "I saw Kel at one point, sniping away with her pet bear." "Bear?... Oh, Dracoth. Any of the rest?" She shook her head. "I'm sorry, Alanon, but I'm sure they're okay," she said comfortingly. "I need to get back now, Indria and the others need me." He nodded, then with a final hug he let her go, watching her move off through the bustle. Soon he was distracted by another wave of wounded arriving, and he set back to work.
Pitch came in later that afternoon, to get a large cut on his arm looked at. As Alanon mended the bloody gash, then wrapped a bandage around it for protection, the younger druid told him what he knew. "They're pressing us from all sides. I don't think we can hold them much longer, but we can fall back if we have to- regroup on the slopes. Jahira's been with me, she's fine, and I've seen Kel a few times." Alanon nodded as he finished with his brother's arm. "Be careful, little brother. We don't know what they are planning." Pitch nodded absently, then headed back to the front.
The demons did break through soon after that, and the allied armies fell back to their second point of defense. More wounded came pouring in, a few of them requiring Alanon's dreamfoil potions. He tried to distance himself as he gave the potions, watching them fall into a sleep they would never wake from. But often he would imagine the soldier was someone he knew.
The third day was even bloodier than the previous two. The Legion pushed through again, and the Alliance and Horde armies fell back to the third point. Now they were almost at Nordrassil's base. Alanon could hear the fighting, could see it if he went to the edge of the camp, but he tried to push it from his mind. Then the runner came.
"They attacked from the east side, behind us," he told the others gathered around him quickly. "Big group. We're holding them off best we can, but Light send Malfurion is ready soon." With that the human clapped his helmet back on and continued on to the general's camps. Alanon stared after him, then looked toward the far eastern mountain slopes. Jaryla, Indria, how are you faring? he wondered. But duty soon called again, and he was left with no time for worry.
Another runner came in the early afternoon, and called them together. "We need volunteers to go to the front lines," he said. "Our numbers are growing too thin. If we don't hold them off here, we'll have no need for healers anyway." Alanon looked around as people started shuffling forward. He spotted Quae near the back, and she caught his eye, then slowly nodded. He nodded back, then stepped forward himself.
* * * * * *
The battle was hectic. Demons of all types, with Scourge filling in the gaps, were pressing forward relentlessly. Alanon, in his bear form, stood shoulder-to-shoulder with the others, supporting and holding the line. He shifted out and cast his healing spells whenever he could, to aid the others as much as possible. Soon he was joined by a smaller white bear and a black panther. He spared a brief nod to his brother and sister, then focused back on the fray.
The horn sounded just before sundown. The battle paused, and Alanon watched with the rest as Hyjal's wisps all descended on Archimonde, then detonated. The explosion shook the entire mountain. Then, at last, it was over. He looked to Pitch and Jahira, then the three druids started moving among the nearby fallen, to give what aid they could. Jahira and Alanon cast their healing spells, while Pitch helped to move some of the bodies. They worked until it was too dark to see, then gave it over to the healer squads that began moving through with torches.
The druids all returned to Alanon's tent. Kel and Dracoth stopped by to check on them, and Alanon was relieved to see his older sister and his friend were okay. They sat around a small campfire, talking together wearily. "Alanon," Quae asked him, "have you heard from Jaryla or Indria yet?" "No," he said softly, worry creasing his forehead. His younger sister reached over and took his hand. "They're tough," she said comfortingly. "I'm sure they made it all right." But doubt showed on her face, mirrored on his own.
A runner came the next morning. Alanon's siblings had stayed to help the healers; even Kel wrapped bandages with them. Alanon paused what he was doing and called the Night Elf over. "Have you heard anything from the Second Unit scouts?" The Elf looked at him carefully. "The attack from the eastern side," he finally answered, "almost overwhelmed us. We're not completely sure yet, but it doesn't look good." After the man left, Alanon went out to the edge of the camp and just stood, staring out toward the eastern slopes. Quae came up behind him, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Don't give up hope yet. Maybe they'll turn up tomorrow," she told him. Alanon replied softly, "Ryla never did like it when I worried. She knew I wouldn't rest until I knew they were safe." Quae couldn't think of an answer to that. She just stood by him, offering what comfort she could. At last Alanon turned back to the camp and returned to his work.
It was confirmed the following day. Groups had been dispatched to clean up any remaining enemies and look for survivors. The group sent to the eastern side came upon where the Second Unit had made their stand. It looked like they had given an excellent account for themselves, but the demons had proved too much. There were no survivors.
When Alanon heard the news, he left the camp, walking toward Nordrassil. He stopped at the base of the great Tree and stood there, shoulders shaking. Jahira, Quae and Pitch found him there. Jahira and Quae looked at each other helplessly, but Pitch went to his brother and sat next to him, sticking his nose into Alanon's hand. After a moment, the hand moved to his back, gripping the longer fur there tightly as the druid-cat whined softly.
* * * * * *
Quae found Alanon the next morning at daybreak, sitting on a fallen log. The morning was quiet, most of the army having left long before. Only the wounded were left, and they were setting out too, as soon as they were well enough to travel. Quae sat down next to her brother, glancing up at him. He stared straight ahead, not moving, but she knew he was aware of her. His face still looked haggard, though his eyes were clear. She cleared her throat.
"Alanon, are you alright?" He didn't answer at first. She waited patiently. Finally he broke the silence. "I still see them, when I close my eyes. It's hard to believe that they're gone," he said softly, his voice just above a whisper. Quae took his hand. "We all miss them, Alanon. But it'll be okay." "I know," he replied. "It's just... I've known her forever, you know. We grew up together. I never thought that she would be gone." He cleared his own throat roughly. "And Indria, oh gods. Her life was still just beginning." He stopped, swallowing hard.
Quae squeezed his hand gently, then sat quietly, looking around. The damage from the battle was apparent even here, but several groups were staying behind, to clear up and see what help they could give the World Tree. After several minutes she spoke again. "I'm coming home with you guys," she said. "To Ashenvale." He eyed her. "I can't imagine our parents would agree to that, to say nothing of the Temple." "Oh, they didn't like it. But I'm old enough to start making my own decisions. As to the Temple, well, they don't control me whatever they might think. It's not like I'm moving too far away to continue my training; if anything, you all are closer." Alanon grunted.
They sat together until the sun was well up, then returned to his tent. Kel and Dracoth were saying their goodbyes as they arrived, and after they left the others began packing up. Alanon left most of his herbal supplies for the healers staying behind; he could always replace them. Soon enough they were ready to go, and the druids and priestess all headed toward home.
_________________________
I'm working on another for Alanon, and have a Shaurria story almost finished. Love it when my writer's block goes away. Til next time, Happy Hunting!
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