Vilmah
07-04-2006, 11:38 AM
Vilmah’s adventures through the continents were beginning to take a toll on her. She often missed her home on Durotar; it’s hot sun, scorching sand, the clear blue skies and their lack of clouds. Here in Stranglethorn Vale, she was often covered in sweat from the jungle humidity. It was wet and sticky feeling, underneath her plate mail. The sea nearby often beckoned her, and she would take long swims with Edmund, her riding wolf, before going back to work. Today she found herself with Edmund,in the water. She’d stripped off her plate mail, and left it on the shore of the beach. Sitting beside it, watching her, was her pet pig, Pinky. She’d removed his blue sweater. The heat likely would have killed him, if she didn’t.
Taking long strokes through the water, Vilmah looked up at the sky and floated on her back. It was then that she heard a low growl emit from Edmund. She straightened herself back up in the water, and looked in the direction he was growling. On the shore, crouched down beside her armor and weapons, was a night elf. She took him as a thief, from his dark leather clothes. She could tell that he was calculating which of her things he should take. It was obvious he didn’t know she was watching him, because he was stealthed in the shadows of the shady trees. However, all of her time spent with the Ice Troll Nojinbu had taught her to see beyond what her eyes could immediately see. The thief’s glowing eyes gave him away, try as he might to keep them shaded by his wide brimmed hat.
Vilmah ducked beneath the water, and swam towards the shore. Edmund followed her, close behind and beneath the waves. The saltwater stung Vilmah’s eyes, but she paid them no mind as she got closer to where the thief was sifting through her things.
Soon, she was in too shallow water to keep her presence hidden. Knowing that timing was of the essence, she took a deep breath, and leapt to her feet. The elf didn’t have time to respond before she charged at him, and slammed her fist across his jaw. In a panic, the rogue fell back, and took out his daggers. Vilmah reached for her axe; a gigantic grizzly thing that was nearly taller than she was, it’s end so heavy that it often spun her out of control from it’s sheer weight. Without a moment’s hesitation, she reached back and swung at the rogue. He was, unfortunately, much quicker than her labored swing, and took a fraction of a second to get beneath her arms, slashing at her bare stomach with poison coated blades. Vilmah let out a cry of pain as she felt the poison seep through her flesh, making her stomach turn and giving her nauseous waves. As the rogue pulled back for another slice, Vilmah swung her axe again.
This time, she did not miss. Her axe fell true to it’s target, and sliced the elf’s leg nearly in half. She reached back when she could feel bone, and the elf staggered a bit, unable to keep his balance. Reaching back for another swing, she suddenly felt a jab of pain come from her wound. Sparing a glance to her stomach, she could see that the area around the cut was turning gray; as if her flesh were rotting. Before she had a chance to respond in turn, the elf slid forward, and slashed his dagger across Vilmah’s chest. The pain from his poison nearly unbearable, she let fourth a roar from the back of her throat she hardly knew existed. The elf paused for a moment, at the sound. It was all the time she needed. Vilmah swung her axe back, and buried it into the elf’s face.
His mouth trembled once before the light from his eyes went dim.
The sound of bones being broken by her axe nearly made Vilmah drop it. It was a grinding sound, not unlike when she watched butchers cut their animals into different portions. Her axe had done a similar job to his skull. It had been driven half way into his brain, half of one of his ear’s on the ground, a quarter of one of his eyes sliding down the trail of blood emerging from the wound. The orc pulled back on her weapon, popping the rest of his skull in half, showering half of herself in blood. She stared, transfixed, on the elf’s body. Before long, her wolf began to sniff at him. Vilmah wasn’t sure if she should allow him to continue. Edmund took this as a sign, and began to gnaw on the elf’s torso.
“Edmund, no..” she heard herself say, as she stood back up. The pain in her stomach and chest were turning into dull aches, but the wounds looked fiercely infected with poison.
She was about to pull on the wolf’s ear, when she noticed a parchment of paper had dropped from his leather vest. Vilmah retrieved it, and unfolded it. Drawn crudely were three figures. Two tall, one small. One of the tall ones had long hair, and the other had two daggers. There were words written, in a language she didn’t understand, but it didn’t take her long to realize that a child had drawn this.
Looking down at the body, she muttered “Oh no…” and staggering, fell back on to her pile of armor.
Edmund looked at her curiously, and went back to gnawing.
“Stop, Edmund!”
The wolf stopped immediately, and padded softly over to her. She used him as leverage, grabbing tufts of hair to drag her body upright, so that she could re dress herself in armor and weapons. Before long, she was dressed, and mounted her riding wolf. Pinky looked up at her, ready for another long ride. Vilmah stared back down at the body. Her stomach and chest were aching painfully, and she knew she needed immediate help.
“What do I do..?” she asked, out loud.
The thought of returning the elf’s body back to his family was eating at her. She desperately wanted him to be returned, but how would she know where he lived? How could he keep his rapidly decomposing body from falling apart before she reached that place?
Sliding off of the back of her wolf, she looked over the elf’s body for some sort of identification. She couldn’t find anything, and was about to give up, when she spotted something shiny beneath his vest. Reaching inside, she pulled out a silver moon pendant, hanging from a gold chain. She took it off of his neck, and slid it into her bag beside the picture she’d found on him earlier. His body remained still. It felt like a waste, and a tragedy to allow him to rot on the beach, but her pain was increasing, and she was running out of time.
“Edmund,” she said her breaths becoming raspy and labored. “Dig, quick.”
The wolf began to dig in the sand, his huge paws tossing back chunks of dirt and rocks into the water behind him. It didn’t take long for him to dig deep enough, and Vilmah pushed against the body to have it fall inside. She didn’t have the strength. She fell beside it, her muscles convulsing. Edmund saw what was happening, and dragged his paw along the corpse to have him fall in the hole. He then finished the burial, but digging more sand to cover him, while Vilmah watched half conscious.
Pinky nuzzled her face. Even the pig could tell something was wrong.
Edmund howled, and gently slid his nose underneath Vilmah’s body. Sliding her behind his head, she lay slung over his back like a bag of cargo. Edmund ran as fast as he could, back to Grom’gol. Pinky followed, watching over Vilmah’s body, to see that it didn’t fall. She fell into a deep sleep, on her ride, but not before catching a glimpse of where the elf was buried.
Between two palm trees, a large stone in the shape of a fish marking his grave.
Taking long strokes through the water, Vilmah looked up at the sky and floated on her back. It was then that she heard a low growl emit from Edmund. She straightened herself back up in the water, and looked in the direction he was growling. On the shore, crouched down beside her armor and weapons, was a night elf. She took him as a thief, from his dark leather clothes. She could tell that he was calculating which of her things he should take. It was obvious he didn’t know she was watching him, because he was stealthed in the shadows of the shady trees. However, all of her time spent with the Ice Troll Nojinbu had taught her to see beyond what her eyes could immediately see. The thief’s glowing eyes gave him away, try as he might to keep them shaded by his wide brimmed hat.
Vilmah ducked beneath the water, and swam towards the shore. Edmund followed her, close behind and beneath the waves. The saltwater stung Vilmah’s eyes, but she paid them no mind as she got closer to where the thief was sifting through her things.
Soon, she was in too shallow water to keep her presence hidden. Knowing that timing was of the essence, she took a deep breath, and leapt to her feet. The elf didn’t have time to respond before she charged at him, and slammed her fist across his jaw. In a panic, the rogue fell back, and took out his daggers. Vilmah reached for her axe; a gigantic grizzly thing that was nearly taller than she was, it’s end so heavy that it often spun her out of control from it’s sheer weight. Without a moment’s hesitation, she reached back and swung at the rogue. He was, unfortunately, much quicker than her labored swing, and took a fraction of a second to get beneath her arms, slashing at her bare stomach with poison coated blades. Vilmah let out a cry of pain as she felt the poison seep through her flesh, making her stomach turn and giving her nauseous waves. As the rogue pulled back for another slice, Vilmah swung her axe again.
This time, she did not miss. Her axe fell true to it’s target, and sliced the elf’s leg nearly in half. She reached back when she could feel bone, and the elf staggered a bit, unable to keep his balance. Reaching back for another swing, she suddenly felt a jab of pain come from her wound. Sparing a glance to her stomach, she could see that the area around the cut was turning gray; as if her flesh were rotting. Before she had a chance to respond in turn, the elf slid forward, and slashed his dagger across Vilmah’s chest. The pain from his poison nearly unbearable, she let fourth a roar from the back of her throat she hardly knew existed. The elf paused for a moment, at the sound. It was all the time she needed. Vilmah swung her axe back, and buried it into the elf’s face.
His mouth trembled once before the light from his eyes went dim.
The sound of bones being broken by her axe nearly made Vilmah drop it. It was a grinding sound, not unlike when she watched butchers cut their animals into different portions. Her axe had done a similar job to his skull. It had been driven half way into his brain, half of one of his ear’s on the ground, a quarter of one of his eyes sliding down the trail of blood emerging from the wound. The orc pulled back on her weapon, popping the rest of his skull in half, showering half of herself in blood. She stared, transfixed, on the elf’s body. Before long, her wolf began to sniff at him. Vilmah wasn’t sure if she should allow him to continue. Edmund took this as a sign, and began to gnaw on the elf’s torso.
“Edmund, no..” she heard herself say, as she stood back up. The pain in her stomach and chest were turning into dull aches, but the wounds looked fiercely infected with poison.
She was about to pull on the wolf’s ear, when she noticed a parchment of paper had dropped from his leather vest. Vilmah retrieved it, and unfolded it. Drawn crudely were three figures. Two tall, one small. One of the tall ones had long hair, and the other had two daggers. There were words written, in a language she didn’t understand, but it didn’t take her long to realize that a child had drawn this.
Looking down at the body, she muttered “Oh no…” and staggering, fell back on to her pile of armor.
Edmund looked at her curiously, and went back to gnawing.
“Stop, Edmund!”
The wolf stopped immediately, and padded softly over to her. She used him as leverage, grabbing tufts of hair to drag her body upright, so that she could re dress herself in armor and weapons. Before long, she was dressed, and mounted her riding wolf. Pinky looked up at her, ready for another long ride. Vilmah stared back down at the body. Her stomach and chest were aching painfully, and she knew she needed immediate help.
“What do I do..?” she asked, out loud.
The thought of returning the elf’s body back to his family was eating at her. She desperately wanted him to be returned, but how would she know where he lived? How could he keep his rapidly decomposing body from falling apart before she reached that place?
Sliding off of the back of her wolf, she looked over the elf’s body for some sort of identification. She couldn’t find anything, and was about to give up, when she spotted something shiny beneath his vest. Reaching inside, she pulled out a silver moon pendant, hanging from a gold chain. She took it off of his neck, and slid it into her bag beside the picture she’d found on him earlier. His body remained still. It felt like a waste, and a tragedy to allow him to rot on the beach, but her pain was increasing, and she was running out of time.
“Edmund,” she said her breaths becoming raspy and labored. “Dig, quick.”
The wolf began to dig in the sand, his huge paws tossing back chunks of dirt and rocks into the water behind him. It didn’t take long for him to dig deep enough, and Vilmah pushed against the body to have it fall inside. She didn’t have the strength. She fell beside it, her muscles convulsing. Edmund saw what was happening, and dragged his paw along the corpse to have him fall in the hole. He then finished the burial, but digging more sand to cover him, while Vilmah watched half conscious.
Pinky nuzzled her face. Even the pig could tell something was wrong.
Edmund howled, and gently slid his nose underneath Vilmah’s body. Sliding her behind his head, she lay slung over his back like a bag of cargo. Edmund ran as fast as he could, back to Grom’gol. Pinky followed, watching over Vilmah’s body, to see that it didn’t fall. She fell into a deep sleep, on her ride, but not before catching a glimpse of where the elf was buried.
Between two palm trees, a large stone in the shape of a fish marking his grave.