Winter's Chill

[Laron]

Snow is falling lightly, Laron moves slowly, making sure to keep his toes straight down to reduce the crunching noise as he walks. Slowly looking around a tree he sees his mark… A woman stands with dark curly hair, wearing armor and looking around nervously. “She knows I am here, but doesn’t know where…” He thinks to himself, as he starts his circle around her. Keeping to her back, he cautiously makes his way behind her. He closes on her quickly and jumps to tackle his unsuspecting target. Mid jump, Laron see her turn, reviling instead of a look of surprise, an evil grin, of mischief. With a grip of his doublet, and a slight kick to the stomach, Laron is flipped over the woman, as she rolls backwards in the soft snow.

[Laron]

Najme laughed heartily as she fell backwards into the snow, Laron's body having sailed over her. Her arms were becoming well muscled and defined, and she found that throwing his weight wasn't as hard as it originally looked. She sat up and looked at him, brushing unruly strands of hair from her face as snowflakes continued to land in them.

"I remembered how sneaky you elves can be," she said with a grin. "What in the world were you thinking?" Pulling his head out of the snow, he shakes the snow from his ears, laughing hard and smiling at how much more of a person she had become. As she brushes her hair from her eyes, Laron throws a loosely packed snowball at her.

The snowball hit Najme in the face. Without bothering to wipe it away, clumps of snow fell from a narrowed eyed expression. "And you call yourself a gentleman," she said, tossing a snowball his way.

Intentionally letting the snowball hit him in the chest, he falls backwards and feigns death. Over exaggerating his dying moment. “Oh! I have been struck down by The Light, for my transgressions upon a Paladin of such beauty!” Writhing in the snow, he falls limp on his back.

[Laron]

Najme stood, and walked to Laron. She stood over him with her hands on her hips, a playful grin across her thick lips. "Now that's not funny... what about all of those poor creatures that I have had to do away with because the Light commanded it?" She fell on her knees beside him, in the snow, brushing the bits of broken snowball from his chest. "You do not deserve an execution, but perhaps some other punishment for your sins is in order..."

Laron peeks one of his eyes open and quickly closes it. Trying to suppress his smile. Feeling her touch him he pulls her close to him and rolls over. He looks her in the eye, and kisses her, his eyes glowing in the shadow of the overcast day. As the snow starts to fall harder, Laron looks for a larger tree to take cover under until the snow lets up.

Following his lead, Najme goes to a tall pine tree. It's evergreen branches held the snow like a thick blanket, but it was a peaceful shower. There was no wind to break the steady fall of snowflakes, and the sun shone far off in the distance. After a few seconds, Najme extended a hand past the cover of the tree, and collected snowflakes in her palm. She watched them melt against her skin, and smiled.

[Laron]

"It really is pretty, out here." She said, looking at her palm. Her gaze moved past her hand, and through the trees, until she spotted an off-white object, slowly being covered by snow. It looked like a tree branch, except that it was covered in some sort of fabric. "...what's that?"

Focusing his vision to what she is pointing to. Laron squints and says. “I don’t know. Lets find out.” Laron covers his head with a piece of cloth and creeps out into the snow. Within minuets Laron is out of site, but Najme can see his foot prints walking towards the enclosure. Laron makes his way to the hidden makeshift tent. The Snow is falling hard and he wishes he could ignite his sword, to keep warm, but that would give away his position. So he waits, hidden, and cold. He sees Najme walking up, and he hopes, whatever is in the enclosure is not hostile. And if it was, he hopes he can eliminate it is, before it harms Najme.

Following Laron's footsteps, Najme came closer to the tent. Upon closer inspection, she realized that there wasn't just one tent; there were a series of them. It looked as if this part of the wilderness had been inhabited, and for a second, she was fearful of whoever lived in the large tribal-like homes... until she recognized the off-white object lying in the snow.

"Bones..." She murmured, looking down at the elongated skeleton of a humanoid creature with long tusks.

[Laron]

“Troll.” Looking around the camp, Laron is hit by a cold blast of wind, which reminds him that it is still snowing hard now, and they should take cover before they loose too much body heat. “I wonder what killed them? I doubt it was the cold, they look like they live here and should be used to the climate.” Shivering in the snow, he holds his hand out to her. “But we are not, and we need to take cover.” He walks over to one of the tents that looks sturdier, and opens the flaps. Peering in, he checks to make sure that the there isn’t any remains in the tent then climbs in.

Najme followed after Laron, and looked around the inside of the tent. The fabric was worn, and looked paper thin. It didn't seem likely that it would stay up much longer. There were still possessions from the previous owner inside, consisting of some bowls, pots, beads, remnants of clothing, and a child's doll.

Najme bent to pick it up. It was made of patchwork linen and some coarse thread. It had a pair of tusks made from the teeth of some animal, and beads for eyes. "...I wonder what happened to these people, that everything was left behind?"

Looking at the doll, “My people would have buried the dead. If anything to return the nourishment to the soil, but to leave all those people out to rot…” Laron thinks back to Menethil Harbor. Saddened, he hugs Najme, “The last time I saw anything like this was the night they took you from me.” Taking off his cloak he lays it on the ground to put some separation between them and the cold hard ground. He starts to looks thru his pack and pulls out the wolf hide cloak he was given in Mulgor and wraps it around Najme. Holding one of his swords in the middle of the tent, he lights the fire enchantment. The soft light of fire illuminates the tent, and starts to warm the air. On the inside there are drawings of bears and large cats, being fought by stick figures with tusks. In a corner there is a simple drawing that looks like it was drawn by a smaller one. It looks like a wolf and a small person playing with a stick. He looks back at her and is thankful she was returned to him. “Is that better? I have to hold the blade to keep it lit, but this should at least chase the chill away.” Looking past her he sees the distinct visage of Trolls fighting short people, obviously Dwarves. Laron frowns, “I think I know who killed them…”

[Laron]

Najme smiled sadly at the light. "It's fine. I'd suggest lighting a fire, but who knows who we'd be seen by..." She looked at the drawings in the tent, at the battle scenes especially. She was reminded of the pirates who raided her father's merchant ship, and more recently, the undead who took her captive. Shaking her head at the though of what could have happened here, she looked at Laron. "Do you think it was Dwarves? I never imagined them being so brutal."

“Well the Dwarves consider this their land, and the Trolls are trespassing. Not that it makes it right, but I’m also sure the Trolls had a hand in it as well. From what I am coming to find, is that there are bad people on both sides, and what happens in a battle always has three sides. The ones the people fighting see, and the third, which is what really happened.” Laron warms his hands one at a time. “This trip was supposed to be fun, but it seems to have taken a bad turn, we should plan to return in the spring to bury them correctly.”

Najme nodded, until she noticed a set of make-shift graves in the distance. They looked freshly dug, with the exception of the falling snow. There were dozens of wooden plans, written on in the Troll's language.

"It looks like someone already started," Najme murmured.

[Laron]

Drawing his swords, Laron spins in a circle looking out for who ever had freshly dug the graves. He fades away and starts to sneak around the camp. The fresh snowfall is covering any tracks that might have been made. Laron is starting to get an uneasy feeling in his gut, almost as though they were in danger. Trolls hadn’t been here in years, and yet someone had dug graves, and written epitaphs… That someone had to be skilled or powerful to have gotten past the guards. Returning to the middle of the camp and the now nervous Najme, “We are alone for now.”

Najme stood, and put a hand on Laron's shoulder. "We should leave this place. I'm not sure if the spirits here are resting peacefully. Beings who die in such a way have a tendency to linger, in the afterlife..."

Even as she speaks, they can both feel a breeze surround them. As if disconnected from the weather, the breeze felt warm and somehow melodical. Drums of war beat in unison. They could hear a tune in their ears; one of anger, sorrow, and regret.

“Yeah, that sounds like a good idea…” Laron starts to creep out. He hates being surprised, and ghosts, were not his Forte. Looking to Najme for guidance, he knows her connection to The Light allows her to see things in the way of spirits, a little more clearly than he will ever expect to.

The feelings of hands touching him, makes him jump and puts him on edge. The drumming starts to get louder, and the touching gets more violent. Hitting them and they can feel the ground shake from the stomping. They can almost make out the Trolls chanting, angry and powerful. Taking Najme’s hand, Laron starts to flee, his wits starting to fail him.

[Vilmah]

Najme let Laron lead her from the camp, looking back every once in a while to where restless spirits remained rooted to their home. She could somehow tell that they had no intention of hurting them, but their love for their home was so strong that they refused to leave. Perhaps their drumming was happy? Or perhaps it was an expression of desired revenge. She continued to run, eventually trying to get Laron's attention.

"I think it's safe now.." she struggled to say as he hurried allong. "Hey hey! Calm down! They're just ghosts, Laron!"

[Laron]

Laron walks through Darkshore, he is young and stupid. He had heard of an ancient burial ground, and figured “The people are dead, they don’t their money anymore…” Upon reaching the site, he starts to hear things… Wispers, and moans, that trail off and don’t sound as though they exist. Every time he thinks he see someone out of the corner of his eye, they disappear. He thinks to himself, “You are being a baby, there isn’t anything there.” Then, as he finds his first corpse, he starts to looks through its rotted clothing for any coin. “Well M’Lady, your patronage is appreciated.” He says as he turns to go to the next grave. As he stands he is met by a woman, dressed in a white dress, It loos as though it is blowing in the wind, yet there is no breeze. Laron tries to look away, but is drawn to stare at where her eyes should be. Hollow sockets, filled with an empty blackness that looks as though it can swallow him whole. “You dare tread here! Then you shall join us!” The voice sounds as though it is in his head, and he tries to run, but the woman thrusts her long spectral hand into his chest and grips his heart. She starts to squeeze and he can feel his heart stop. As he is lifted into the air, terror sets in, and Laron strikes at the lady. His hands pass right through her body. The world starts to fade to a black and white, and the woman becomes increasingly solid. Laron drops the coins and punches her square in the face. As she retches backwards, her hand is ripped out of his chest, and the world returns to color.

Gripping his chest, he hears "Hey hey! Calm down! They're just ghosts, Laron!" It takes him a moment to realize where he is, but then he sees a beautiful, looking at him with concern in her eyes. “Sorry, I don’t like Ghosts, they really un nerve me.”

[Vilmah]

Najme looked at Laron, curiously. She could tell that there was more behind his phobia than a dislike for spirits. Checking to make sure that they werent surrounded, or worse yet, followed, she bade him to come closer. Checking his forehead with her hand, she noticed that he felt warmer than usual. She chalked it up to nervousness, fear, or worse, that perhaps he'd caught a chill.

"What's the matter? You look almost sick," she said, in reference to his face. He was much paler than usual, his skin looking like a pale lavander. There was sweat forming accross his brow, and under his nose, despite the cold artic air that surrounded them. "Are you alright?"

[Laron]

Taking a deep breath, Laron sits down in the snow, and calms himself. Trying to shake the memory, he looks her in the eyes, and is washed over with a feeling of happiness. A smile comes over him, and he hugs her. “Thank you for being so supportive. I was attacked by a ghost when I was a younger child. I was being foolish, and almost died because of it.” He wipes off the sweat that is starting to freeze on his forehead. “I will never forget those eyes.” He shivers as the image enters his mind again.

[Vilmah]

Najme sat with him, in the snow. She looked at him curiously, helping to wipe the sweat from his face.

"Ghosts?? What in the world were you doing that you were attacked by ghosts?"

In reality, she was trying hard not to laugh. She knew it would be cruel, but the image of Laron running for his life away from ghosts was somehow amusing. Perhaps it was the idea of him trying to shadowmeld himself amidst ghosts, or perhaps because the thought of night elves running away from anything was funny to her. If she didn't care for him, she might have made light of his fears, but she knew more than anyone what it was like to have her fears exploited.

[Laron]

Looking embarrassed as he remembers why he ran into it in the first place. “I was a child when I had my first encountered with one. I was looking for my first love, and it didn’t like me disturbing its grave.

I couldn’t fight back, and it almost ended my life. Ever since then I have avoided them just on principle. Sometimes I wish I could put them to rest as you can.” Laron shivers again and puts his hand to his chest.

[Vilmah]

Najme smiled, and pat his shoulder reassuringly. "Your first love isn't worth you disturbing the dead, but I guess you already learned that lesson.." She said with a chuckle. "No worries. Many ghosts just cling to their homes because they can't stand to leave it. I imagine those ones had a very strong relationship with their homeland. I doubt that they would want to hurt anyone, but just in case, maybe we should leave them be."

She stood up and extended a hand towards him.

"Besides; it's colder than I thought, out here."

[Laron]

Laron laughs “No I guess not, money is no good if you can’t spend it.” Taking her hand he stands and straightens his clothing, trying to re-gather his composure. Still holding her hand, he notices that it is still just as soft as the day he met her. Kissing it, he gestures her to lead on towards the smoky chimney, of the Inn not far from where they had sat down. “Dwarven Ale is pretty strong, so you won’t have to buy me too many to get me drunk and take advantage of me.” Laron winks at her, and jumps off the cliff leading down the hill with a flip, he lands on his feet and starts to slide down in the snow in a controlled pace.

[Vilmah]

Najme shook her head, but didn't have a chance to rebuke Laron as he ran ahead. She followed him with a hand on her hip, taking careful time to climb down the rocky snow covered cliffs as she made her way to the inn.

"Silly elf..." she muttered.

[Laron]

Making there way through the snow, Laron notices they are being followed…

Something sneaking in the tree line… The figure is feline, keeping just out of sight. If not for Laron astute senses for detecting the stealthed, he might have missed it. Keeping tabs on the stalker, he realizes it is a person, a Druid, an animal would have attacked by now. He wants to tell Najme of their would be assailant, but it might give away his edge of surprise, so for now, he tries to walk ahead and make himself look more helpless than he really is.

As the large cat creeps closer, Laron catches a whiff of the air. He controls the smile that tries to creep across his face. He “accidentally” drops his money pouch, and kneels down to retrieve it. As he bends down the large panther leaps form the tree line! Laron is expecting this. He throws snow at the cats face, and rolls out of the way. The druid lands and starts to turn, but Laron has gotten the large cat in a head lock and pulls it to the ground. Still trying not to laugh, he rubs his knuckles into the top of the panther’s heads, giving it a “Noogie”. Laron can no longer contain his laugher.

[Vilmah]

Najme found Laron playing with an extremely large cat. She stood in front of them, dumbfounded at the scene. A cat that size would have eaten his face in one bite, if it was wild. She'd seen their kind before, during her trips to Stranglethorn Vale as a child. Watching them play together, she wondered how familliar they were. They almost looked as if they were best friends, or even related.

"So... are you going to introduce me?" She asked, finally.

[Laron]

The panther starts to shape shift into a young Night Elf, her hair that was pulled back and braided is now messed up and out of place. She slips away from Laron who is still messing up her hair as she changes. Standing with an embarrassed look on her face, she blushes as she starts to straiten her tangles hair. “This is my Sister, AmaDaRe Redthorn. Bowing to her, he then turns to Najme, “This is Lady Najme Montoya.” Be bows to Najme as well. Amadare, finishes making her hair lay back down, and kneels to Laron, then elegantly bows to Najme. “It is a pleasure to meet you.” She says as smiles at the Human, then turns to Laron and frowns “It seems as though I still have much to learn about the art of stealth.” Laron smiles and says with a slight chuckle. “You forgot what Father taught us about being down wind.” With a perplexed look on her face she asks Laron in Darnassiun “Did you find the Shaman you were searching for?” Laron’s smile fades, and he says in Common, “No, it is a long story, but that chapter ended, and a very interesting new one opened because of it.” He turns and Smiles very warmly to Najme.

[Vilmah]

Najme bowed in return, and watched the two. She tried not to show how out of place she felt, and retured Laron's smile. The language they speak to one another was very alien to her, and there was no denying the discomfort she felt when they spoke it. It reminded her of unhappier times, when the language barrier kept her from understanding her fate. Seeing these two interact, she realized how awkward she must have looked. Her hair was a mess, and half of her clothes had been soaked with melted snow. She could tell that her nose and cheeks were probably red from the cold.

[Laron]

Seeing Najme start to fidget again in the presence of his Elven sister, Laron takes her arm in his and walks at her side. He wants her to realize that weither she feels she belongs in the Elven Society, he belongs by her side. Amadare pulls her cloak tighter to fight back the winter cold, and starts to walk towards the Inn. As they get to the Inn it is a busy place with a Dwarven bard singing and playing a harpsichord. Half the bar is singing with him, and they all are having a good time. Now Amadare is the one who feels uncomfortable. Laron places his hand on her shoulder, to reassure her that it will be alright, and makes his way over to a corner table. He pulls out a chair and waits for Najme to sit down. Amadare stands until Laron has been seated.

[Vilmah]

"This place seems busy, tonight," Najme says with a smile, seeing all of the happy drunken people singing allong with the dwarven bard.

She looks at Laron's sister, and notices that she waits for him to sit before she does. It seems a little strange to her. She gives Amadare a friendly smile, and motions towards the other seat.

"Go ahead and sit, Amadare, before that dwarf asks you to join him up there" she says jokingly. "It's cold out there, what brings you to such a chilly place?"

[Laron]

Her eyes dart to the Dwarf up on the stage singing, looks to see that Laron is seated, and quickly takes her seat. Trying her best to quell her nervousness, she says “I…I was in IronForge, talking with The Inferno. She… she said she is looking for you by the way… She seemed mad.” Just then a Dwarf who had too much to drink bumps into her and spills some of his ale on the ground next to her.

Amadare’s eyes turn brown, and the backs of her palms start to grow hair. Laron sees this and takes action fast. Snapping his fingers right in front of her face. “AmaDaRe! Calm yourself, it is okay! You are with me, stay here, and be at peace…” He turns to Najme. “She is young and full of rage. That mixed with Agoraphobia, doesn’t help.” He makes sure his sister is staying in her upright form. “Where is your friend Riverleaf?” Shaking her head, she returns to normal and blinks a bit. “Sorry Brother, Riverleaf had to return to Mulgore, something about a disturbance in his lands.” Blushing, she is embarrassed that she looked less than graceful in front of the Human lady.

[Vilmah]

Her eyes wide, Najme kept her mouth shut. She hasn't had much interaction with Druids, and find that one such as her is both intimidating in her animal and normal form. She tucked a few strands of curly hair behind her ear, looked down, trying not to draw attention to herself.

[Laron]

Sighing Laron sits back in his chair. Both of the women at his table now both looking down trying not to look at the other. Taking the attention off of them, and back onto himself, so they can get back to normal. “So Amadare, did our leader say why she wanted to talk to me? I can bet it has to do with Azrid. I guess I screwed up pretty bad.”

Laron orders dinner, and pores them each a glass of Elven wine. Amadare starts to feel more at ease. Laron knows with as young as she is, the Dwarves here would have killed her if she had gone wild on them. He worries about Najme, she almost seems scared of his sister, and wonders if she knew that Amadare would stand no chance against a Paladin of her season.

“Lady Montoya is a Paladin of the Light, she has been traveling with me for about a month?” Amadare now having a glass of wine in her, perks up. “Oh really? How did you two meet? Laron coughs a little bit, and looks at Najme.

[Vilmah]

Najme looked at Laron for a moment, then down at the table. She tried to think of a way to explain how they met, but from every angle it sounded wrong...

We met at a whore house, no...

He rescued me from a whore house, no...

He and an Orc rescued me from Horde captivity? That could work!

"He and an Orc rescued me from whore captivity. I mean Horde captivity!" She quickly fixed, before taking a glass of water and using it to hide her mouth and the burning shame building accross her face.

[Laron]

Trying to not blush, at the slip of the tongue, he starts to interject. The situation was just as embarrassing to him as it was to her. That thought of his sister knowing that he was in a brothel, even though it was by mistake, was something his baby sister didn’t need to know. “I found her in Horde patrol heading back to Ogremar.” Amadare sits with a slight smirk on her face. “Well I can see why you have been traveling with this Human, you always have had good taste brother.” She says finishing her second glass of wine. “Well Thank you for the wine and good company, but I have to be going. I have head to the Barrens.” She stands and starts to bow, Laron gets up and hugs her, which makes her look uncomfortable at first, but she appreciates the affection from her brother. Laron says to her “Keep safe, use the shade for cover, and make sure to keep down wind…” Smiling she says to him. “I will, I will.” Turning to Najme, she bows. “It was an honor to meet you Paladin Montoya.” As she leaves she leans over to Laron and says “I like this one, she has more spirit than Brianne, prettier too.”