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Vilmah
05-08-2006, 12:01 PM
Najme awoke to voices. For one horrible moment, she thought that she was waking up from a terrible dream, and that she was still inside of the same brothel she’d lived in for the past 3 years. Instead, she opened her eyes to a scene rich with color and light. Above her was a canopy of trees, and she watched birds fly to ad fro below a blue sky and warm sun. The air around her was no longer blisteringly hot, but crisp and warm, with a gentle cooling breeze. It was then she realized that she was being watched.

“…are you alright?” Asked a man in an officer’s uniform, looking down at her through a shining helmet, plumed with blue hair.

Najme rubbed her head, and sat up straight. All around her, she saw peasants working to build their skills by killing wolves and dragging in the corpses of dead cobolds to be buried. In the distance was a vineyard, and throughout it, peasants were engaged in a struggle against a small group of rogues. Najme looked back at the man in uniform. “I’m… sorry. I don’t know how I got here. Or even where here is, really.”

“You’re in Northshire, and we found you here beside the monastery,” said the man in uniform. “By the looks of you, it seems you’ve been through a rough journey. What happened?”

Rather than explaining herself, she stood up and thanked the guard. He looked at her with confusion as she wandered throughout the fields, her mind astir with thoughts. “How is it possible that I’ve one from hell, to happiness, to hell and back again? It seems as if nothing is real, anymore…”

Najme looked at all of the other peasants, as they made their way throughout Northshire. Finally, she happened into the monastery. After spending a few long hours in the library, to relax her nerves, she found that she felt calmer than ever. The tranquility within the building was slowly rejuvenating her, and she had the sudden urge to meet with the local paladin trainer. She met him downstairs, and he looked at her skeptically.

“Really… it isn’t a path easily taken,” said the trainer with a sigh. “I see too many men with all of the power and the glory of a Paladin, yet without the guidance of the Light to justify his actions. People forget that we are holy warriors, not brutes who use their power to raze helpless civilians. I suppose you’re looking for the easy way to defeat Hordelings?”

Najme thought for a moment. Was she really so simple? Was al she wanted revenge against those who had wronged her? For a moment, it seemed possible. However… she couldn’t forget the kind words of her savior. The understanding shown to her through Vilmah. The trusting people who made sure that she would not be killed while in territory owned by the Horde. “Actually… I wish harm to no one. I really don’t want to hurt the Horde. I’d much rather serve by their side.”

The trainer looked at her face, and saw sincerity in her dark brown eyes. “Then perhaps you will do us proud, miss…?”

“Najme,” she said with a smile. “Najme Montoya.”

The trainer nodded. “You are on your way, Najme, but be careful. Temptations of many kinds will tear at you, and although I know not your story, I am sure it is littered with memories that will try to break you from the peaceful resolve you have demonstrated to me. Please, I’d rather not see that happen.”

Najme bowed to the trainer. “If it pleases you, sir… I’d very much like to begin with my training.”

There was a long pause as the trainer thought about having her begin… when he smiled abruptly, and reached into his bag for some parchment and a pen. “I think that perhaps it will do you well to see what it is you aspire to be, Najme. You have a good heart, but there is something missing.”

“I’m sorry sir, I don’t understand?”

“Have you ever been to Stormwind?”

She thought for a moment. Her life on the seas as a child were long and tumultuous, and she was never granted the opportunity to visit large kingdoms. Even Lordaeron was a mystery to her. “No, sir. I’ve never been.”

“Follow this map, then,” he said, handing her a hand-drawn rendering of a path she should follow. “And do not tarry. I want you to begin your training soon.”

Najme grinned and bowed to the trainer, then went down the path. She found that many of the peasants who she’d seen train in Northshire were taking the same path, and once she got to Goldshire, she saw many more of them. Some had rather primitive armor, but some were gallantly armed and rode mounts of an impressive nature. She thought that she would send a letter to Vilmah, and prayed that it would make it.


Dear Vilmah,
I have reached my destination. I’m sorry that we can not see each other as often as I’d like to, but there are forces at work here. I was rescued by a guild on the Horde side, named Sanctuary. Can you tell me who they are? Thank you. You are a good friend. Please stay well,

Najme


At that moment, she realized that she was forgetting something. Laron! She wondered if he was worried, but remembering her dream about being a night elf, she considered it a small chance. She realized that elves, with their long life spans, couldn’t take their feelings for a human seriously, and she should do her best not to allow temptations of the physical kind ruin her chances at becoming a holy paladin of the Light. However… there was the chance that he was worried, and it would have been cruel not to let him know she was safe.


Dear Laron,
I awoke in Northshire. I am on my way to Stormwind. Thank you for everything, I am forever in your debt. I’m sorry if I expected too much of you. I know that as an elf, you have more time than I, so I won’t waste it with trivial emotions. Again, thank you. I hope that we will meet again someday,

Najme


After sending both of the letters, she continued on her way towards Stormwind. It appeared that this would be a large city, and saw that she was being accompanied by traders, merchants, and other soldiers who sought their fortune. What she saw was far different than she expected. It took longer than she expected to reach her destination, and had to stop to rest halfway there. When she found herself well rested and ready to continue, she took to her feet and continued walking.

The statues in front of Stormwind caught her off guard. So lost was she in their majesty, that several travelers stopped to ask her if she needed assistance. “No,” she said breathlessly. “I’m just amazed by the beauty of it all.”

The others looked at her skeptically, then went on their way. Najme’s knees went weak as she walked behind them, and saw the city busting with people. The sight of humans made her heart race with excitement and joy, and she almost wanted to run up and greet every one of them, but instead opted to get lost within the city. Running past her, a boy was being chased by a girl.

“Gimme back my dolly!” Shouted the girl, in tears.

“Crybaby crybaby!” Teased the boy.

Najme grinned, and grabbed the boy by the back of his neck. He fell back with surprise. “What do you think you’re doing, young man? You should honor this young lady!” She said to the boy.

“Yeah, William!” Said the girl with a grin.

William returned the doll to the little girl, and together the two walked off. “Aw, you’re no fun Donna…” The boy could be heard saying.

Najme continued on her way, taking in the scenes. She found that the city was far too large to see in a single day, and opted to follow the map she’d been given. Walking over bridges that hung over tranquil waters, she felt at peace and happy. When finally she reached her destination, she looked up in awe at a huge Cathedral.

“Light be with me…” She muttered, her eyes blurry with tears. “It’s beautiful.”

Walking into the cathedral, Najme felt her heart grow light. It was here that she would make a new beginning for herself. As if the ground were calling her to it, she felt her knees grow weak and sank to the floor, kneeling before the alter.

“I have been saved. I can not let it go to waste…” she murmured quietly, her eyes closed, her hands folded in prayer. “Light, give me strength to bring peace to both sides. I swear that from this day forward, I will never kill an innocent being, no matter what his allegiance may be. I will uphold the Light, and he Light alone.”

http://stu.aii.edu/~bo312/ssi/chapel.jpg

With the silence of the cathedral, Najme stood and left. Walking through the streets, she decided to leave Stormwind to begin with her long journey towards becoming a paladin. On the way, she spotted a mail box. There was a postal worker there, putting letters into the box. He greeted her.

“Good morning, miss! What might your name be?”

“Najme Montoya,” she said politely. “Although I doubt you’ll have anything for me, so soon.”

“You’d be surprised…” He said with a wink, handing her a letter.

Najme ripped it open, and her heart nearly stopped when she saw what it said.


Najme! I’m so glad you’re safe. The guild that saved you was mine! I’m a member of Sanctuary! I sure hope that we can still be friends. There’s a guild on your side called Throrns and Roses. They know my guild, so maybe we can build ties between our sides through them and Sanctuary! Please be safe.

Vilmah


Najme hugged the letter to her chest, and looked up towards the sky. An answered prayer indeed.

Laron
05-08-2006, 03:36 PM
Laron sits on the dock in South shore, staring at the ocean. He had been there for who knows how many days. His stomach ached from lack of eating. But he didn't care... After his extraction mission in the Scarlet Monastery, he had scoured every building and haunt he could find in Tirisfal Glades, and found nothing. She was gone and it was his fault… He had lost women dear to him in battle before, too many, but this was different. At least he could give them a proper burial and put both their souls at ease. This was horrid, he wanted to stay on the dock and die. A woman, who felt sorry to see such a hansom Night Elf in such sorrow, came out and wrapped blanket around his shoulders. She sat next to him and tried to talk with him, but he just sat and stared.

Arriving by Griffon, Mynikens Flamesprocket, Inferno of the Tears of the Phoenix, was informed that one of her Blaze had been on the dock for 3 days now. As she gets closer, she sees he looks sick and has not taken care of himself. Trying to fight back the urge to hug him and take him in for a nice meal and drink, as a nurturing mother should. She yells out “OnyourfeetBlaze!” Laron turned and just looked at her, then looks away. Mynikens’ eyes started to spark with electricity. The words for “Pyroblast” started to slip off of her tongue, but she bites down on her lip. Growling, the little gnome who still was short to Laron sitting down, runs up and punches him square in the eye with her little balled fist. Laron is weak from not eating, and when hit, falls off the dock, and into the water. Mynikens yell off the dock “Ifyouarenotuphereintwominutes IwillnotholdbackonyouBlaze. Laron makes his way out of the cold ocean water holding his eye that has now started to bruise. With him kneeling at her feet, Mynikens can no longer fight back her motherly instincts. She hugs Laron, and says “Iwasworriedaboutyou. Haveyoucheckedyourmail?” Shaking his head, he walks over and starts to sift through his mail, when he drops all of it on the ground looking at a single letter. He starts to tremble as he opens the letter. “Is this a letter from someone who found her body?” He reads

Dear Laron,
I awoke in Northshire. I am on my way to Stormwind. Thank you for everything, I am forever in your debt. I’m sorry if I expected too much of you. I know that as an elf, you have more time than I, so I won’t waste it with trivial emotions. Again, thank you. I hope that we will meet again someday,

Najme

Looking to the sky he thanks Elune for her safety. Leaving his mail out on the ground he runs into the inn and starts to write her.

My dearest Namje,
It fills me with great joy to hear you are well. I thought I had lost you forever… What happened? I looked all over for you, and killed numerous Forsaken in my search for you.

As for time, I have plenty to spend on a good friend. Is there anything I can do to make your transition easier?

Your friend,
Laron

Noticing that his parchment has a few tear drops on it, Laron thinks about witting it over again, but decides that it will take to much time. Mynikens has collected his mail and puts it in his pack, she says “Goodnews?” Laron lifts her off her feet and hugs her. “Thank you for making me check my mail!” Smiling at her with his fully developed blackened eye, he drops off his mail, and heads out the door for the griffon master.

Vilmah
05-09-2006, 03:53 PM
Najme smiled at the letter. In her hands was proof that Laron cared for her. She smiled sadly at the thought that war would keep them from seeing each other more, but quickly scribbled down a note:


Laron,

I’m sure I’ll be fine, but thank you for everything you’ve done. I am however, dismayed at the thought of you killing Forsaken just to find me. I appreciate your concern… but please, killing isn’t the answer.

I’d like to see you again. I’ll be in Stormwind tomorrow night.

Najme


She put the letter into a mailbox, and left Goldshire. Although she hadn’t served the Alliance for very long, Najme was slowly beginning to despise many of the people around her. The men who gave her assignments often did so in a business-like manner, never minding the fact that they were telling her to kill living breathing people. Exterminate gnolls? Why not! It seemed easy enough. Until she visited their encampment, saw them speaking to each other, witnessed them laughing, socializing, and being far closer to human than perhaps anyone else realized. Over on the other side of the woods, she saw a priest. He was tall and strapping, with long white hair. Without a moment’s hesitation, she witnessed him use his holy powers to burn through the bodies of gnolls, one by one. It seemed so simple, for him. So mediocre. Najme didn’t like it.

Eventually, she happened upon a gnoll strolling by himself.

“Graaaah! More bones to gnaw on!!” He shouted, grinning sadistically, droll streaming from his canine-like mouth.

Najme held up her hands. “Wait, wait! I don’t want to hurt you!”

The gnoll paid her no mind. Instead, he began to swing his sword at her. Ducking blows, Najme realized that she wouldn’t be able to keep the gnoll from attacking her. She struck out with her hammer, and the sword flew from his hand. The gnoll looked at her curiously, as she stood there before him.

“Now, lets not fight. Lets talk, shall we?”

The gnoll growled, and scrambled over to his sword. Upon reaching it, he felt a blow to his back, where Najme hit him once again with her hammer. The creature sprawled out on his back, and whimpered.

Najme looked at him with pity, and prayed quietly. “Light, give me strength… what am I supposed to do? Kill him? I need some sort of sign…”

The gnoll returned to his feet, anxious to put an end to Najme’s prayers. He swung back with his sword, in an effort to cut her down, but was instantly incinerated by a blinding white light. His ashes littered the forest ground, but a few managed to find their way on to Najme’s face. She bitterly wiped them off with her hands.

“Careful out here,” said a man’s voice. “These things are murderous.”

Najme looked over, and recognized him as the priest from before. “I could have taken care of him. I was trying to talk to him.”

“Talk?” The priest gave a hearty laugh. “Talk to one of those things? What’s the point in that?”

Najme gave the priest an icy look, then turned and walked away from the forest. “I would have thought that a priest of the light would know…”

The light did not answer her prayers, and if it did, it wasn’t an answer that she liked. In fact, it seemed as if all of the priests and paladins she’d come upon only used their power and dedication to the Light, to further their own personal gains. Najme couldn’t imagine exterminating a group of living people for money, using the gifts she’d been given. She thought about this long and hard while walking down the road, when she realized that in front of her, an undead woman stood.

“… grexxth,” the woman said in Gutterspeak. She watched Najme with glowing yellow eyes, and wore only the simplest of leather clothes that a peasant could afford.

Najme clutched her hammer tightly. It had been a member of the Forsaken that took Najme from the comforting arms of Laron, and shackled her to a wall for torture. That same woman tried to turn Najme into what stood before her; an immortal sin against nature, shunned by all and loved by none but their own. The undead woman stared at Najme’s hammer, as if wondering when it should strike. Najme gave her a smile.

“Don’t worry. I will not forsake you,” she said as calmly as she could muster.

The undead woman looked at Najme curiously, as if in understanding. Her jaw hung slack, as all of the skin and flesh had long since been torn from it, and only the yellowing bone stood out. Her tongue, blackened with decay, seemed unable to speak anything but a gurgling raspy language. “Ghaaaat?”

“Come with me. I’ll try to lead you to the ruins of Lordaeron. I believe I know the way.” Said Najme, extending a hand.

The undead looked at her hand skeptically, but placed her own hand in it, seeming to understand. Najme grinned, and turned to start North, where she knew Lordaeron once stood. Immediately, a group of young men stood in her way. “Good job. Now let go, and we’ll finish her.”

Najme looked at the men, confused. They all seemed like young initiates of the Alliance’s growing military, wearing ragged armor and old rusty weapons. They looked down at the undead with distaste. “What’s she done to you?” Asked Najme.

“Just stop stalling, and hand her over. We’ll get honor for killing her, and our rank will improve. Didn’t you know that?”

Najme looked at them with horror. “You mean you get honor from our military, by killing innocent people? Just because she’s a member of the horde, you will be honored for her murder? That’s barbaric.”

“Barbaric or not, Paladin, she’s in our land. That was her first mistake.”

Najme held up her hammer. “I’m not going to let you—“

She didn’t have a chance to finish. Immediately, one of the men darted behind her, and slashed at the back of her thigh with his sword. She could feel her hamstring tear, and fell on to her side. Her hammer fell to the ground, but she scrambled towards it, even as her heart pumped blood through her body, out of the wound, and on to the ground. The men made quick work of the undead woman, opting to have three of them hold her in place, while one of them cut her limbs from her body. Thick black blood fell to the ground, and splashed all over Najme’s face. The woman’s head looked up in fear as one of them raised a mace into the air, and brought it down with a sickening thud on her face.

“We should report this. She’ll be added to our honorable kill tally,” said one of the men with a grin.

Najme squeezed out tears, and struggled to one foot. “You… you’re disgusting. You didn’t need to torture her. You’re no worse than animals.”

“Just making sure she doesn’t come back,” said one of them with a shrug. “Maybe if you’d helped us, you could have gotten some honor out of it.”

Najme gripped her hammer tightly, putting as little weight on her wounded leg as she could, even as the men looked at her with confusion. “If this is what counts for honor, I want none of it. As Light is my witness, I will never kill an innocent being. But as for you…”

She raised her hammer high into the air, channeling her faith into the weapon with every prayer she could think of.

“I. Cast. Judgment!!”

With one hurling blow, Najme smashed her hammer into one of the men’s face. His skull was instantly pulverized, turned into a sickening amalgamation of blood, brain, and bone. His friends looked with terror as bits of slick brain tissue coated their faces. They stuttered slightly, as if unable to speak what she knew they were thinking. How could you do this to your own?

“This is what happens to all those who defy the light,” Najme said, looking at the other men.

One of them fell on to his back, looking up at her. “Who in the hell are you?”

“My name is Najme Montoya,” she said, turning away from them. “Paladin of the Light.”

Lupa
05-09-2006, 04:03 PM
(( Huzzah!!! GoGo Najme! :D ))

Mortica
05-09-2006, 04:35 PM
((good grief, another female paladin..they're multiplying like flies. Something needs to be done before the world of Azeroth is overtaken by bewbies!))

Laron
05-09-2006, 05:12 PM
You say that as if it is a bad thing...

Vilmah
05-09-2006, 05:52 PM
((good grief, another female paladin..they're multiplying like flies. Something needs to be done before the world of Azeroth is overtaken by bewbies!))

((Truth be told, I agree. They're EVERYWHERE!))

Chum
05-09-2006, 06:26 PM
((good grief, another female paladin..they're multiplying like flies. Something needs to be done before the world of Azeroth is overtaken by bewbies!))
((I happen to know some very tasty paladins.. I mean distinguished... Oh hell boos are good and paladins suck cause they own me up with there bubbles and there healz and GRAHH!!))

Laron
05-10-2006, 10:04 AM
After reading her letter, he felt as though a huge weight had been lifted off his chest. He had never been responsible for anyone but himself. And the thought that he had failed her ate at his soul. But now she was safe and probably on her way to being a great warrior… Trying to put her in the back of his mind, he makes his way to the griffon master, and pays for a flight to Red Ridge. Mounting up, Laron thinks to himself “I can’t be distracted, I have a paw to collect, and in my work, distractions mean death.” Arriving, Laron looks over his map at known location of the Gnoll camp where his target resides. The one they call Yowler, is a chieftain for the Gnolls. So Laron knows that this needs to be a quiet extraction. Sneaking around the camp, he finds his mark. The Gnoll is not alone, but he is asleep… Taking survey of the area, he takes notices that there is a tree above them, and a rocky cliff leading sharply down to the lake below. Retrieving his rope from his pack, he starts to tie a slip knot with a loop. Lightly walking up to the tree, throws the rope to the branch above Yowler and his group. Looping the rope around the tree, he slowly lowers the makeshift noose, down to the Gnoll. Trying to calm his anxieties, he slowly sneaks up to the sleeping Yowler. Slipping the rope, gently, around his neck, Laron then steps back looking at the branch, he hopes it is not very sturdy. In one hand he wraps the rope around his wrist. In the other he takes out a small portion of flash powder, incase everything goes wrong…

Focusing his speed, Laron takes off running towards the cliff. Pulling hard, he lifts Yowler up off the ground and starts to raise him into the air. With a cry, cut short, Yowler is suspended by his neck, kicking, and gagging, he wakes the other Gnolls from their sleep. As they wake, they all take notice of the Night elf running towards the cliff. Growling, they start to give chase to Laron, he yanks hard, causing Yowler to hit the branch and snap it. The rope goes loose again and allows Laron to bolt ahead faster. Leaping off the cliff, he flips around to face the wall. As he falls though the air, the line suddenly goes taut, and Laron swings towards the rocks of the cliff. Expecting this he pushes off with his feet and continues to descend at a much slower rate as he drags Yowler’s corpse towards the edge. Chasing him to the edge the Gnolls stop short of falling off the rocky edge. Yowlers body on the other hand does not… As Laron gets to about fifteen feet from the ground he hears the sound of the corpse leaving the edge. Looking up, after landing on the ground, he sees the Gnoll’s body fly over him and land in the lake.

Walking into the City Hall of Lake Shire, he drops the wet, severed, paw of Yowler, on the official’s desk. Holding his rope burned hand out for payment, Laron says with a smirk. “He shouldn’t give you anymore trouble.” As he leaves he is met by a parsal carrier. He says "Are you Laron? I have a letter for you." Reading the note, Laron feels happy that she is thinking about him, in all the goings on in her new busy life. His mind starts to wander... Thinking of her and the time they spent together. The way she moved with his elven sword in her hand, the anger she showed towrds the Orcs at Astranaar. Her lust for revenge... Yet her new letter purplexed him. He owed her a proper letter. Setting down at a inn table, Laron takes out his pen and ink well and writes her a letter in the finest elven elligance.

Laron
05-10-2006, 12:44 PM
<Written if very fluent and eligant Darnassian>

Dear Najme,
I hope you are doing well. I wanted to write and ask if you have had a change of heart? I was starting to worry if you would ever be able to slate you lust for revenge. I hope you have found in your search of yourself, that revenge isn’t as filling as one would like it to be. As for my actions in Trisfal Glades… It always amazes me the things people do for people close to their heart. Unfortunate as it was, their souls are finally at rest. My killings are usually quick, and to the point… No pun intended.

I wish to see you again, but I fear that I will not be able to make it to Stormwind tonight. Prior engagements well keep me at bay. But please know that I think about you quite often though, and you are missed. How is your training going? I bet you are sizing up to be a fine warrior. Try not to be too rough on the boys. We need as many of them as we can get to keep our cities safe.

Well I’m sure you are busy, so I will let you go for now. If you need my assistance I am always here to help.

Your Good Friend,
Laron Ravenshank
Blaze of the Tears of the Phoenix

P.S. I will keep my eye out for any nice armor I might come across, in my endeavors.

((Might not be able to get on tonight because of RL issues.))

Vilmah
05-10-2006, 04:28 PM
After emerging from the cramped quarters at the outpost of Sentinel Hill, Najme walked outside, and sat on the dying grass. The scratchy blades tickled her back and stomach, but she enjoyed the feeling of their natural growth more than the dusty overused beds provided by the Peoples Militia. It was early in the day, and growing warmer by the second. Najme reached for the hammer on her back, and looked at it with shock when she realized it was halfway covered in blood.

The memories of yesterday’s events came flooding back in an instant. She touched the blood on the axe, and saw that a man above her was giving her strange looks. Reflected in his armor, she saw herself. Her face had specks of blood she hadn’t wiped away, and they ran down in tiny trails along her skin. Najme reached for a piece of cloth she’d found, and rubbed her skin vigorously.

“I’m beginning to think I’m losing my mind…” she muttered.

Standing up, she thought about the things she had to do. She was commissioned by a local woman to slaughter some animals, so that she could make Westfall Stew. Slaughtering animals, she didn’t mind. However, the People’s Militia had given her another assignment. They wanted her to kill some bandits in the area, which Najme considered for a moment. Were they already judged for their crimes, then? Did she not need to worry about their guild? Certainly the money would be passable, but the idea of killing more men made her sick… so why did it come so easily?

“…because I enjoy it,” she said, walking from Sentinel Hill. Najme understood that somewhere, deep inside, the thought of killing someone exited her. How could the Light betray her so?

How can I go on, preaching the ways of the Light and mercy, when I can so easily be brought to murder? I’m no better than any of those I kill. It disgusts me.

Najme looked around, and saw the area around her dying. All of the fields were withering away, and scavengers came from all around to pick at the dead.

Am I doomed to be like this place? A dead growth attempting to be salvaged? Dear Light, give me some sort of sign. Anything… let me know that I’m at least on my way to becoming better. I can’t let this temptation destroy me.

At that moment, she felt a tug on her green cloak. “Excuse me?” She looked down to see a young girl, perhaps around six or seven years old. She held up an envelope. “Miss Montoya? This is for you.”

“Why thank you, little miss,” said Najme with a smile. She reached into her back, and pulled out a lollypop she’d bought in Stormwind. “Here you are.”

The little girl grinned, and took the candy. Before bouncing off back to an old farm, one that probably wouldn’t last the rest of the year. “Thank you, miss!”

Najme sighed, watching the child run off. In truth, it hadn’t been long since she herself was that girl’s age. The short gap that filled her world and the child’s made her shudder, knowing that the innocent thing that delivered her letter would be just as vulnerable to the horrors she’d seen. Shaking away these thoughts, she opened the letter, and found beautiful handwriting. Of course, she understood, it had to be written by Laron.

Smiling broadly, she took out a piece of parchment and tried her best to write as neatly as he had.

Dear Laron,

I’m sorry for the way I sounded, in my last letter. I haven’t been feeling myself. I’m afraid the last few weeks have been very hard on me, and I don’t know what they’re doing to my perception. It’s as if I think one thing, and find myself doing another. Before I’m caught up in doing anything else, I wanted to let you know that I miss you. I wish I could see you, but I know that your work keeps you busier than even I’ve been. Please be careful. The world isn’t as peaceful as I wish it could be, but I hope I can help to change that soon.

Don’t forget me,

Najme

Laron
05-11-2006, 09:48 AM
Reading the latest letter sent to him, Laron sets his drink down and pays the inn keep. Sitting at the inn he thinks to himself “I thought she was getting close to me because she needed me to help her find her way back. But now that she is safe and in the company of her own, she still wants my company?” Most humans only wanted him for the oddity of being with an elf. But she seems to genuinely want his company. "This letter came from fields of Westfall, she could probably use my help, and I long to see her again, with her long curly dark hair, and pretty face. Besides I'd like to see her in action again… " he thinks to himself.

Hopping off his griffon he figures he will start looking for her at the thieve’s town of Moonbrooke. Walking through the streets he hears the familiar sounds of gambling and people drinking and carrying on. He steps into the old inn and feels a nudge from behind. A young man walks away as nothing had happened. Laron can feel his decoy money pouch has been lifted. Grabbing the young man by the back of the shirt, he lifts him off his feet and turns him around. “Those type of things might not be noticed by an amateur, but I am a professional.” Holding his hand out the kid sets his pouch in his hand. Laron sets him down and takes out a silver piece and flips it to him. “Be more careful next time kid.” Nodding, the kid runs off, counting his blessings that the more experience Thief didn’t just end his days as a pick pocket. Laron can feel the eyes on him, waiting for their chance to attack him, and take his belongings. But no one wants to be the first to try. Walking to the barkeep he orders whisky, and looks at the Defias bandit, who is now eying Laron’s new set of swords. Sniffing the shot of whiskey as he brings it to his mouth, he can smell the sleeping drug that has been added to it. Setting the shot down, he draws his knife. Glaring at the bartender, and says “Do you expect me to pay for that?” The bar tender shakes his head and dumps the shot on the floor and pours him a new one. Turning back to the bandit, he says “You don’t want to find yourself on the wrong side of my blade friend.” The bandit finishes his cheap drink and leaves. Probably to find some friends to return with. After checking the town, he finds that Najme isn’t there, so Laron starts to walk the road, back to Westfall.

Lovely
05-11-2006, 09:52 AM
((Ooh, I got to meet Najme last night! /waves))

Grisch
05-11-2006, 10:54 AM
“This is what happens to all those who defy the light,” Najme said, looking at the other men.

One of them fell on to his back, looking up at her. “Who in the hell are you?”

“My name is Najme Montoya,” she said, turning away from them. “Paladin of the Light.”

((I think Grisch might want to have your children.))

Laron
05-11-2006, 11:12 AM
((I'm thinking little half elves, but that's if she even wants children... :P ))