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About Dèh

  • Rank
    Junior Member
  • Birthday 07/31/1989
  1. Dèh

    Zone's End

    It is late in the night, the sky is starless and pitch dark as a line of caravans sluggishly creep over the desolate plains. Lights shine dull from the wagon hooks, only enough to cast a faint yellow circle over the muscled worgs as they pull and tug at their harnesses. The creaking of the leather strings linking them and the groaning of the knobby wagon wheels has put the triplets into a trance that leaves them sitting in silence across the wagon seat for nearly half the ride. It all started when their Gramps, along with their elderly uncles,had popped the news on them like a sudden chop to the gut. "Worgs." was the only word that needed to be spoken for the triplets to know their partying plans were doomed for eternity, or at least for the Revantusk ultra gathering that they had been anticipating for weeks. "Gob, I hate Gramps guilt.." are the last words said between the three sisters before they sink into their deep thoughts. It is only when the lantern ahead of theirs dims and the smoke billows into the air do they snap out of their pity party dazes and pull their ride to a hasty halt. The line up of wagons, twenty or so threshers long, twists and turns over the chalky plains and similar to a cowardly group of pinkers the flames from each lantern vanish into the night. "Snore time." Nehau croaks out a yawn which contagiously jumps to her sisters as they retreat inside. Their footsteps fall heavy on the wooden planks beneath them and the wagon sways as each triplet drops like a dying kodo into their separate sections in the wagon walls. After a loud sigh, Dehau cranes to see out from her stretched and sunken hammock. "Why can't we just party? Why do they gotta all be like, oldies? I mean, seriously. How long does it take to shear a few worgs anyway?" She expertly swings herself out of the prickly rope bed and grabs up a flattened pillow from the gnarled wood floor. "We could play punch-an-uncle and not feel guilty about it...Huh? How 'bout it?" Tehau responds with a pity snort, and Nehau tosses a rumpled blanket in Dehau's direction. The sisters have suffered the effects of a full out guilt trip, from all sides. Uncle Rurk verbally reamed them a new tuskhole, Uncle Gusk mumbled and tsked them, putting on his on-the-verge-of-tears voice, and their Gramps was as silent as the barrens on an early morning. It affects them more than a shortage of raptor eggs. Disappointment from their closest relatives doesn't sit well with them. The ropes squeak against wood as Dehau pushes off the splintery floor and rocks in her hammock, humming away the silence that settles over their normally rambunctious wagon. Soon enough the humming stops as all three triplets fall into an uneasy sleep, gaining not nearly as much rest as they will need come sun up.
  2. Thanks for the warm re-reception all! Yichi, our elves are swirling and mystical but def not old enough to meet the age criteria. Slang aside, they hold a more serious intent than the hard partying Greyseers and it is of foremost importance to their characters that they are druids- hence the swirling mysticism.
  3. In the meantime, we are playing three druid night elves. About two weeks now on another account. They're forty five and we hope to hit seventy sometime this month. These druids are also triplets though unrelated to the orcs (neither the Greyseers or the Starmosses know of one another). We're still making up new words, but though they're odd/new/punky/ganky these triplets are very different from the other set. Anyhow, we look forward to the battles we can wage. Hopefully we'll see some Grim we recognize out in the field. We know some of the names that are still around. Others, maybe alts of our old comrades? -NEH, DEH, and TEH Nehau Dehau and Tehau Nehlith Dehlith and Tehlith