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Danyxandra
02-18-2006, 10:48 AM
Danlily sat bored, drumming her perfectly manicured nails on the table before her. She frowned at her bow, Mother. She frowned at her daughter, Danlyra. Danlyra smirked back at Danlily from over her cup, a cup filled with tea generously spiked with spiced rum.

Danlyra set her cup down, “So, none of your experiments have proven fruitful. What can you expect? Your test subjects are adults and their bodies are geared not for growing and healing but for getting older and dying. Once a body hits puberty, we are all on borrowed time as our body-clocks click towards death. Perhaps you need younger subjects.”

Danlily twirled a blond lock of hair around a finger, pursing her lips in thought over her tiny tusks. Danlyra continued, “Your glory mission for the RAS was ruined when an angel promised you life and didn’t tell you the cost was transmuting the serum into something akin to a love-potion for the loch monsters. What can you expect from angels? You thought your mother was some gossamer saint too. Being beautiful with an ethereal look in your face doesn’t make one good, no matter what the reputation people give angels. Oh they’ve been known to grant life, but that kiss is always at some kind of cost. You’ve failed the RAS twice now and have nothing to show for it.”

Danlily’s eye started to twitch, staring at the leathery skin wraps around the handgrip of her bow. “Mother…”

“Yes, let’s talk about your mother for a moment. It was your mother that handed you over to the Baron Nex`Cruor. She’s paid for that, she will never betray you again and now she serves you eternally every time you put an arrow into the heart of an enemy, but what about the Baron? Has he paid? He still walks about freely. Have you gotten your revenge? Has Clys stood up to her father? Your lover and mistress does nothing to avenge you. Does she really truly love you? Is she really seeking immortality to save you so you two can be together forever or is Clys simply saying that to keep you working like a good little thrall? And what of Kittsu? Are you really, truly sure she didn’t enjoy herself a little bit more with that paladin than she is really telling you?”

Danlyra leaned into the table towards her mother, “You, my dear mother, are more than bored, you are frustrated. Nothing you’ve set your hands to has succeeded. Well, except for getting a name for yourself. That’s been quite successful. You can’t walk outside of horde territory alone because without your mistress to escort you, your golden hair is like a beacon to every alliance thug and mercenary out to claim your shining scalp. Unlike me, of course, I will always have the shadows.” Danlyra smiled sideways as she leaned back into her seat and squinted her eyes at her mother to measure the effect of her words. “Let’s see, let’s count them off, shall we?” Danlyra counted with her fingers as she spoke, “One, your surgical experiments are a bust. Two, you’re a failure to the RAS. Three, your beloved mistress does nothing to avenge the horrors inflicted on you by her father, and four, the alliance has moved you near the top of their kill on sight list. Oh, and five, you’re getting old. Don’t forget that. What little you’ve had to laugh about has left crinkles near your eyes.”

Danlily moved her hands to rub her temples as if trying to sooth out the wrinkles that had been growing more insistent at the corners of her eyes. Her eyes welled up with tears she would not shed. “I am getting old, and I’ve nothing to show for it, nothing at all.” Danlily shook her head and pushed herself away from the table. Without another word, she went out into the night, without her bow, without her enchanted blade, without her hunting cat by her side, and for the first time, she walked without hope.

Lovely
02-18-2006, 01:51 PM
((very sad, but excellent writing....bravo))

Sojii
02-19-2006, 12:21 AM
{{Sojii wuv yoo!}}

Garbhan
02-19-2006, 01:09 AM
Eibhe was understandably worried. Garbhan hadn't moved from his chair for ages - almost a week now.

He'd come home from Regiment business halfway through the night, which was normal, and taken his gear off, shined the buckles, smoothed the cloth and mended the seems of each piece of his adventure-wear and Uniform with the utmost care before folding everything lovingly and placing them on a shelf for the next day. It happened nearly every day he stayed in Ironforge, silently so not to wake anyone. That night was slightly different, however. A chair from the dinner table was, with no small amount of effort, hefted onto his shoulders and carried to the balcony. There, he placed it down and, sitting in his crisp civilian clothes, began to think. Eibhe had been up for water and watched, curiously. She'd heard stories of the many horrible things the Regiment faced daily and had left him. Surely something needed reflected on.

The next morning, she'd woken up to the sound of Anistha and Snorri going through the exasperating tasks of breakfast. Snorri always tried to nip at things before they were done. Eibhe greeted them with a yawn and noticed Garbhan was still at the chair... Probably sleeping. She'd leave him.

And now it was almost a week later. She wasn't sure if he'd closed his eyes. He blinked now and again... she thought...


------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You're not as young as you used to be. Yes, you can heft a mace, swing it... swing it enough? A staff. A badge of honour, a Priest Mark. A walking stick? Nearly fall down with a swing. It's all so heavy... Morning. Dwarves always seemed to have a vague idea of what time it was, even underground. The robes are heavy. They weigh on your shoulders. Your pack is to heavy. With what? It's full of herbs and dried grass, yet almost too much. The young warriors laugh and hoist it over their own while you huff a thanks. Hardly the breath for your foul cigars any more. Old man.

Breakfast.

That pillar, accross the hall. One hundred fifty yards? It's just a blurred line. You know its a pillar because you've stood there before. Swing your mace, will you even know if it hits? Healing, that's what you do. Can you see if someone is injured? Can still hear the screams at least... Lucky the ram is old. Any faster and you'd fall apart. You were a warrior, once... A Dark Iron swings, I raise my shield. The axe deflects off the wood and I push forward, under his guard. His helmet becomes one with his face and he drops. I get hit in the head, from the right. Swing. His throat opens up. He staggers back. Blood is in the air, then he drops. For Khaz Modan What are you now?

Eibhe. She's a good girl. She looks worried. Anistha is taking her away, good. She'll grow up a fine Dwarf. Well taught and old fashioned. Make a strong wife someday. I wonder if she'll marry into the Regiment? I wonder if I'll see it.

You're old. Four. Hundred. Years. There hasn't been a dwarf so old since your uncle. Nobody knew he died for a days, since he had barely moved in years. He was a miner who was retired with pention. What did he do? He... sat. A dwarf needs work. What work is there for you? The Regiment? What can you do for them? Age, wisdom. What wisdom have you? War? You've fought more Dwarves then the Orcs have. Enemies are different now, weapons are different. Warriors are different.

Militia. Adventurers who had no place in the Army. 'The Kings Bravest.' Axe High, old man. Captain. When was last you led the battle line?Hillsbrad. Two masses of killers. Barbarian warriors against savage warmongers. Who's who...? There's a woman with me, tall. Human. She laughs, her imp laughs too. I've gathered these warriors, these heros. These who could not walk as soldiers, as civilians. I yell, they cheer. I run, they follow. A Tauren, his hammer. Through the air. They charge past me. Most didn't live. The best, the cowards. I woke with broken bones. You couldn't keep up to lead.

It's been days. Has anyone noticed? Eibhe. She's held back her tears. Good girl. A kiss on the cheek when she comes in, when she leaves... She works as an assistant for the Explorers league. She'll learn much. She looks after me more then I her...


Who still needs you? You've looked after everyone. They've learned. They've prospered. They can find the way now on their own. Everyone. What is there left for you to do...?

"What is there left for me to do..." the harsh rumblings of an elder speaking Dwarven echos down into the kitchen. Eibhe rushes upstairs, hoping her Great Grandfather, her only Father, is up.

He's not. He spoke, didn't he? Blast for her leaving his side! What did he say....?

Danyxandra
02-19-2006, 10:02 AM
(Bravo Garbhan! !!! May I repost this to our boards at Immortalis?))

Rhowen-Prea
02-19-2006, 11:43 AM
(( Bravo the both of you! You make me want to write something in a similar vein. ;_; ))

Danyxandra
02-19-2006, 12:15 PM
((Do it! I would love to see a thread where people post the view of their own character's weariness. Just dump their character's frustrastions, sorrow, despair, out there, and then they can all walk away feeling better like they've gotten something off their chest. I was just cheering at Garbhan's post, and would love to see more from others too!))

Longcat
02-19-2006, 04:06 PM
(( >_> But Longcat's not old. He's only 22 and in the prime of his life after the hardships of his younger years. ))

Danyxandra
02-19-2006, 04:10 PM
(( >_> But Longcat's not old. He's only 22 and in the prime of his life after the hardships of his younger years. ))

((Age is meaningless when one is weary. It may be what makes Danlily and Garbhan weary, but I'm sure there's things that make even the young weary in the harsh world we live in on Azeroth. Make this thread your Calgon-Bubble-Bath and pour out your character's worries into it so your character can feel refreshed and renewed after it. *grins*))

Longcat
02-19-2006, 04:27 PM
(( Hmm... maybe about the day he tried to learn to fish... and well, it's sure takes a lot of paitence. :P Heh, I guess a better topic that would fit would be when was exiled from his tribe. I'll try to type that up soon. ))

Garbhan
02-19-2006, 05:27 PM
(By all means, post it on your forums! Roleplay isn't all epic plots and gigantic adventures. This is good for me - I'd gotten away from the main point in how Garbhan developed for me. He's... old. But not done yet! And he'll realize that before he starves in that chair o.o)

Garbhan
02-19-2006, 10:00 PM
As written by Drankherk

A thin dribbling trail of orcish blood follows behind the hunter as he treks his way through the Ironforge Mystic Ward. Passionate about his Regiment, his battles and his drinking, the new General's mind is too focused to notice his beard unkempt and dripping like a sponge.

". . . . bett'r be dead," he putters from an opening in the sopping red hairs, still drenched from a close scatter shot to the warlock's chest, ". . . bett'r be dead . . ." he repeats, anger leaving him only half aware that he's even speaking.

"General Drankherk. . ." came the hail of the more patient Lieutenant Borgas, apparently waiting outside the old priest's home, ". . . th'Captain's insi-"

"Aye?!" the General interupted by shouting his frustrations, ". . . an' Ah'll be tyin' taur'n bull-horns through his belly an' draggin' 'im an' tha' 'airless 'ead of 'is out if'n Ah 'ave t'ah. 'E's not missin' another fight!"

". . . . General, 'e's getting too old fer it . . . . hasn't moved in a week Ah'm told."

". . . . aye, aye, aye. Ah've been 'earin' of his age an' 'is ailments fer a month now, an' Ah'm through wit' 'em. Th'lad thinks 'e can organize us ag'inst th'Bashee-Blight of Azeroth only t'collapse to 'is rumpus b'fore she's killed?! 'E thinks 'e can abandon 'is company, 'is duties, 'is friends an' this Regiment jus' b'cause 'e's a bit rusty at th'joints? BAH! Th'lad's a Regiment dwarf, through birth an' death, an' Ah'll not be lettin' him die in a - "

. . . the Captain's front door opened to interupt them.