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About Aaulos

  • Rank
    Junior Member
  • Birthday 01/18/1983
  1. With a sigh, an olympian figure leaned against the ivory battlements overlooking Stormwind Harbor in the final crimson throes of dusk. A tired weight settled across his bold features, bowing his solid shoulders as he stood slightly crestfallen after another long day. The quiet roar of the lapping tide and the cool salt air - ever thick with the day's catch - were refreshing things, singularly. They were small footnotes on a much bigger canvas, but amidst the vast city they served to bring a quiet comfort that few, if any, things could in the man-made marvel. The walk up the steep stairs and ramps from the harbor was the last hurdle to a much-needed rest, and it was...simply...what it was. Inconvenient, but necessary. With that behind him, the lone figure took upon the silent stillness of the very stones he leaned against, having neither much to say, nor the compunction to do the same. There was no shortage of motivated and capable men and women-at-arms that crowded onto the Royal Navy frigates in the mornings, though as they returned in the later hours spirits were seldom as high as they were when the warships left harbor. What was more gripping was the fact that the efforts that these brave souls volunteered to help support were not for the young or the careless. No - hearty and hardened men and women made up the numbers that one saw being spirited away to the hotspots across Azeroth in this time of troubles, but fewer of those same veterans returned day by day. What was widely regarded as the 'Cataclysm' was trying the fiercest and boldest hearts of Azeroth's finest, and it was this quietly unsettling truth that captured the powerful yet wearied figure's thoughts. Amongst a fragmented existence. The worgen let his gunmetal gray-furred features rest in a broad, heavy paw, his blue eyes staring distantly at the fading lavander of the skyline. His lot was cast with the fighters that took arms against the Twilight cultists, but only by proxy. Not that he favored the idea of spilling blood beneath the banner of another world-ending autocracy; having felt Arthas's dark, goading will and insidiously vicious whispers when the Lich King lived, he was more than wary of any promises of a 'stake in the spoils' after the last of the realm's resistance was decimated. But even so the worgen - Aaulus by name - fought with what seemed only half a purpose. In all truth he 'awoke' into the hollow existence he served Arthas with being more estranged than others. Many of the initiates had an idea of their former selves, some impression of the life they were leaving behind, whether willing or not so. But Aaulus didn't even have that. He was a worgen, and at some point in his life he might have been a man, at least everyone told him so. His change must have certainly been something, because when the beast within manifested itself it engulfed his body and soul completely, overwhelming and extinguishing what was there before with a feral ferocity - after the nature of the beast itself of course. This loss, coupled with somehow dying along the way, only to be resurrected by a necromancer's cold care, cast the worgen's life in a regrettably incomplete image. It was like a shattered stained glass window - fragments within fragments, and all out of context that the original framework would have provided. It was odd, too, whenever the passing person asked about his human seeming. He wasn't a human, he was a worgen. But when other worgen shed their lupine forms in the blink of an eye to reveal a very human core, Aaulus felt quite awkward. There was nothing human about him, after all. The only measure of life he knew was as a wolf-creature, and the name he answered to wasn't anything more than a fabrication; the Scourge overlord he served gave him his name when he finally claimed his runeblade as a Death Knight. He was a wolf-creature, a fierce and violent being that had the instincts, manner, and means of any orcish war wolf, but with a problem-solving intelligence and a preference for two-handed swords. As such, it wasn't surprising that he felt the better part of alone and detached from those around him, beggared of belonging and companionship. The only familiarity he was able to cling to was the bloody work he wrought with the monolithic weapon that was slung across his broad back, but that was as fleeting as the campaign itself. Somewhere in his dim thoughts he knew when there was no longer a corporate call for violence from the throne, he would be just as dispossessed as he was when Arthas was no more - or so he thought. Straightening now, Aaulus let the seaborne breeze wash across his pale gray-furred features, his full height easily placing him above the parapet overlooking the bay. He watched the failing light of the horizon still, marking its steady retreat with a steady gaze.
  2. <p>Have you every tried to hold a kitten? Those needle-claws? That attitude?!</p>

    <p>Kittens are badass.</p>

  3. <p>Who said I was, "The Red Knight of Silvermoon"?</p>

    <p>Might be a good title if and when Keldorin stops going insane.</p>

  4. <p>Well, if Aaulos's hair can make her fuss, I'll be intrigued to see what happens after this next post... >:3</p>

  5. <p>So...how does 'The Red Knight' of Silvermoon represent general Horde bad-assery with kittens? WINKING kittens? >:3</p>

  6. <p>Have a book! *lobbs a new post* I had fun piecing things together through this one. ^^ Well, I probably had too much fun writing this one, but Aaulos's elegantly evil side is something that is so easy to expound upon for some reason. >:3 Not to say that he's evil anymore...is he?</p>

  7. Aaulos

    The Letter

    "My apologies," the old elf intoned smoothly as he let the reins fall from his nimble hands and easily manuvered his long, silvery-white hair into a utilitarian braid before he tucked it's bulk beneath his cloak. As he did so the aged, fair elf pondered Langara's words, a faint smirk touching his features over a few moments as he pieced together his thoughts patiently. "I would think that you would find more reason to be joyful about your emancipation, but yes, it was certainly a 'crisis of conscious' as you put it, just as it was for me to take the Lich King as my liege." For a moment the old elf let his words hang in the air, feeling the emotions in Lnagara's voice as much as he was hearing them. A dim smile touched his fair features that he kept hidden from his passenger as much as he could, though he wouldn't be surprised if in some way she could tell that in a subtle way he enjoyed her volatility. "You must have been with the main assault by the way you speak of the encounter, but I was supporting the Western terrain along with a certain Warmaster Relius. Your un-inhibited assault was bought with heavy losses of both Relius and my brigades as we fought uphill against fortified archer towers and siege weaponry - there might have been only a handful of paladin outcasts that you were interested in but they had acquired an impressive mercenary corps that would have easily wiped out a single pronged thrust from the high cover they held in the mountains around Light's Hope. The only thing that saved Relius and I from certain destruction is that Lord Fordring was convinced that Arthas would put everything he had into the fight at Light's Hope. When Orbaz Bloodbane, Koltira Deathweaver and Thassarian were leading you in the initial charge on Light's Hope you had more than fifty ballistae trained on you and a dozen times as many arrows." In his shadowy voice Aaulos related the whole ordeal with a detached matter-of-factness that was chillingly emotionless despite the fact that, perhaps for them both, the most fantastic, incredible memories came back to life in a shadow of recollection. "The terrain was almost impossible to surmount to gain a flanking advantage on the mercenary corps, but we knew that our speed was what was needed above all else. In the fighting that ensued I had impressions that I may not have lived to see the battles' end - Relius and I knew we were chosen because we were some of Arthas' most junior Warmasters and if anything were expected to fail and pay for Arthas' victory with our lives; I might have accepted that providing that Arthas won, but the critical moments that the mercenaries had to spend training their siege weapons away from Arthas and toward our advancing forces was the sliver that cut their heel. Relius and I met at the top of the mountain with half of a brigade between us both when we had started with eight, just in time to see the Lord Fordring bring Arthas to his knees." With a quiet breath Aaulos paused, his cool blue gaze fixed toward the menacing billowing black clouds that hung prepetually over Icecrown, a dim smile touching his features as he went on. "We watched Arthas abandon us and at nearly the same moment one of our scouts cried out, pointing North at a troupe of mounted eagles just coming into view over the farthest mountain pass we could see. I suppose there was an eerie silence as the eighty or so soldiers left between us looked to Relius and I for guidance that needed to be quick in coming. As we watched the paladins cut down the mindless undead and Highlord Mograine surrender himself and all of the death knights in his command there was a potent silent tension between everyone, and for all we knew the brigades supporting the Eastern pass had suffered similarly to we. Before anything could happen I addressed them all and said, 'Gentlemen, you have fought hard, and well. I came here to win a battle, and I have. You are dismissed.' As I turned to leave Reluis nearly came out of his skin, shrieking that I was a traitor and a fierce melee ensued between us. It was over when I took his head from his shoulders and those that might have supported him suddenly disappeared in lieu of his absence. While there was no considerable time spent thinking on the subject, it was a heavy consideration to weigh nonetheless for the responsibility of tactical command of the fighting force I had. Everything I was to them as a leader was tested when I told them to stand down, and if I did not earn their respect or their fear before the fact they would have betrayed me to my death, and I knew it." With a nod Aaulos paused and let another breath go, glancing back at Langara for a moment that was longer than not before he faced forward once again. "Morally, though, it was a straightforward decision. Relius and I gave Arthas every ounce of our ability as battlefield commanders, which should have been every reason to win the day at Light's Hope and he was made into a fool because he would not listen to his advisors, Heigan and Kel'Thuzad most notably. He was incensed, almost mad for the chance to slay Lord Fordring. Many of the officers saw his instability but few recognized it as a weakness. At one time I was under the misconception that Arthas was privy to a wisdom that no one else was - a reason to wipe the world clean and begin anew and at one time that notion was bearable, even dimly optimistic to me. When I watched him leave us I saw through it all, though, and realized that his bitterness and rage came from an all too human spite for a life he regretted, and mayhaps was even ashamed of." As Aaulos fell silent he let his words summarize themselves amidst the whipping wind and rolling muscles of the proto-drake, the old, fair death knight impassively looking at and yet through the dark clouds as he remembered the towering bastions of Icecrown. Still he meditated on what Langara had said, curious of her in some ways more and in some ways less as a new creature yet with hints of familiarity intermixed. After a long moment he looked back at her, his sapphire gently glowing gaze searching for hers as he still wore the half concealing, half disclosing dreary smile that always seemed to comfortably settle on his fair, flawless features. "In the best of ways, I would have you know that I never thought of you as a mindless thrall. You were always so spirited in an inspiring way." Before she could respond over a short pause, Aaulos added, "In the same breath, there is a great deal that I could tell you about you if you were so inclined to know." Smoothly Aaulos cast his eyes to the looming blackness before them both, feeling the air cool and dampen as he felt them cross from over-land travel to travel over water. The way he spoke suggested that he was familiar with the notion of certain former servants of Arthas having little substantial reccolection of their service to the dark tyrant, but there was a certain droll tone that teased his words hinting that he would enjoy relating Langara's story.
  8. <p>Sorry I'm taking so long! I gotta come up with something... Lang doesn't do the introspective thing easily!</p>

  9. <p>Laaaaawl. One of my coworkers was hanging out on the ships up there.</p>

  10. <p>I just might have been in San Fransisco during fleet week... >:3</p>

  11. <p>No worries, I was stymied for about a day or so anyhow! </p>

    <p>Sounds like some of the fleet week stuff that happened here last weekend. Good times!</p>

  12. <p>Post for you! And I apologize about the 'day off.' It kinda turned into mandatory fun when a number of us got to dress up and go to a black-tie honors luncheon and spend several hours talking to people that we'd never met, and likely would never meet again. >.></p>

  13. Aaulos

    The Letter

    They were in the air hurtling forward with immensely powerful flapps of the proto-drake's somewhat stubby wings having just left the balcony of Acherus. Above them, the deep red overcast cloud cover loomed nearer and nearer with each powerful lunge Garr'omph made until at last they broke through the dim ceiling of the Eastern Plaguelands to a remarkably clear and serene sun-bathed sky - the air cool and crisp. Here the sapphire proto-drake came to a gradual smooth in its overtures - tucking it's legs just so as it's thick blue wings caught the fresh, chill air around them and bore them up effortlessly. Here Aaulos relaxed a measure more, his features reflecting the familiar rapture of being aloft with Garr'omph as they both soared like a javelin high overhead. The old elf exxagerated little when he had spoken of the blue beast's fleetness in the air despite it's rather heavy appearance. The wind hissed past them quietly as they rode on, growing louder with the occasional few powerful lunges that Garr'omph gave with his wings. "Acherus was the easiest place to meet and the most timely, as well as the most benign for you," he said quietly after a long pause from Langara's last statement, not quite looking over his shoulder so she could hear him. "Your confessed hesitance would likely have disagreed with meeting an enigma in such an isolated place as The Shadow Vault. I believed it would, having guessed at your disposition conservatively, hence my summons to a more familiar and public place." Beneath them the blue proto-drake's powerful muscles flexed and glided through another powerful flap, and another, sending the cold, fresh wind past them in similarly surging hisses. Over these few moments Aaulos fell silent as he gazed at the horizon before them and the high, dark clouds they were heading towards. The deep blue-gray billowing fronts that prepetually hung over Icecrown looked like a citadel themselves, tall and imposing and promising an icy embrace. Looking at the slowly nearing darkness Aaulos let a calming breath leave him - his mind taken with the thought that he only had so much time to speak to the female death knight in true confidence. Next, the old, fair elf wondered at what he would say, given this. Over a long moment of cool, rushing wind streaming past his flawless features, Aaulos's decision was made as he glanced back at Langara as she sat behind him. 'Likely, she has told me everything she intends to. I'll not waste this time talking aobut nothing through innuendo and implication...' Though there was a question in his mind that was difficult to put into words and more difficult to ask without being woefully tactless and offensive. Yet in the same way they both were Death Knights, they both furthered the dark will of the Lich King fiercer and meaner than any other fighting force in Arthas' vast undying legions, and they both left his service for their own reasons. With a stoic calm the old, fair elf thought back to his last impressions of Langara in a time that seemed as if it were only a week past. Who was she now? "Of all of us that are left I am pleased to see that you made the right decision," Aaulos intoned in his shadowy, hollow way - his inferrance unmistakably referring to Langara joining the Horde and turning her back on Arthas. "Not everyone did," he went on, staring into the distant darkness ahead as the wind tossed his long, straight hair. "There were those that I could have guessed would have made a similar decision before they were given the chance, but there were also those that I was surprised to see leave the Lich King in that way despite the precedence he set." For a moment Aaulos paused, refraining from looking back at Langara so as not to make her feel any more obligated than she wanted to be. "If I may, how would you characterize your own thoughts pertaining to your decision to leave the Scourge when and how you did?" In silence Aaulos listened, his finely gloved hands holding the reins he guided Garr'omph to fly by with an airy deftness.
  14. Aaulos

    The Letter

    Aaulos paced across the dark, heavy cobblestone under the red sky now, his fine silk and satin robes swimming gracefully through the air around and behind him as he looked over one of his pauldrons at Langara for a brief moment. "I have no plans for the boy, though that you would suggest I do raises questions in my mind about your motivations. As I recall, I have not attempted to beguile you in any way thus far, though I cannot say that you have returned me the same courtesy." Though the tall, fair elf's gait was smooth and unhurried, his words underscored his impressions of a thinly veiled tolerance that had been stretched and would not stretch much farther. "Either you are trying to take the boy back in something more than a hurry or you want him dead in or about the same fashion. Either of which do not matter to me in a professional sense, though you would do well in the future to speak more freely with those that you intend to receive help from. You may find that you obtain what you ask for from time to time." The great blue proto-drake straightened at the sight of its master, sky blue scars slashing and curving around it's savage maw where it had - gleefully no doubt - bitten men in half and dealt with the armor and weapons as an afterthought. The large reptile stood oddly hunched, and as Aaulos approached it wordlessly curled lower to the ground and leaned away from him, offering the old, fair elf the easiest route to the large saddle that was strapped to its belly and perched on its massive, muscled, scaly back. In a rather direct way Aaulos went, stepping on the creature without a hesitation in his steps to walk up the creature's swelling and falling ribs and situate himself on the saddle with little trouble, looking back at Langara. Though not a long moment, the old fair elf let another of his heavy gazes fall into the female blood elf's eyes, lacking any contempt, though simply gauging her with little concern given to whether or not it was received well. In the silence he measured her in his mind, though broke the still moment as he extended his finely gloved hand to her, waiting to lift her into the saddle.
  15. <p>There is a cloud over Heaven, and a pain out of paradise in your corner of the world... >:3</p>