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Everything posted by Vilmah

  1. Vilmah stared hard at him for a moment. How can I help him free her if she'll become my enemy later? Still... I can't be selfish. She nodded and refused the drink, remembering her last escapade with alcohol. "Sorry, no thanks. I'm not much for drinking, anymore. Anyway... I'll help you get her out. If your plan works, she should be okay, but I need you to promise me you'll get her back home safely. I don't want to learn later that you just did the same thing to her that they did, or I promise I'll make you suffer for it."
  2. Trying to get through his broken Taurahe, Vilmah cautiously replaced her axe on her back. "Wait, you're telling me that you want to set the house on fireso that we can get her out? It sounds like a good idea, but..." For a moment, she studied the night elf. He looked exactly like her fellow warriors had described one to her, but having never seen one herself, she was surprised by how little they resembled the monsters she imagined. Vilmah scratched her head and thought, then came upon a realization. "...I think it's a good idea, but why would you want to rescue her, anyway?"
  3. Vilmah heard the voice, and listened intently. The Taurahe dialect he spoke sounded broken, and foreign. She had a feeling that the person she was meeting probably wouldn't have been friendly, if not for the situation. With her hand gripped around a huge two handed axe, she said in Taurahe, "Fine. Come out. But no tricks; I may be small, but I'm stronger than I look." When he stepped from the shadows, Vilmah was relieved to see that it was a troll. However... as the moonlight hit him, she realized that he had no tusks, and his eyes had an ethereal glow. Taking a few steps back, she gripped her axe tighter. "...is this some sort of joke?" She asked, scowling. "If you've done anything to hurt Najme, I swear I'll contact every guild I know and use your brains to paint my bedroom."
  4. I love the idea, except right now I'm busy with my warrior. I do, however, have a tiny low lvl hunter that I'd gladly use to join. One thing, though... I'm not a fan of the name. I love the concept, but "Hearts of the Wild" sounds kinda... I dunno. Other than that, I love it.
  5. Oi! Also, try college! College is where I met my boyfriend (who plays WoW) and all of our gaming friends. Plenty of girls gamers, there. Especially since it's an animation/gaming school.
  6. Vilmah was inside of a room she'd rented at an inn in Orgrimmar, when she realized that sleep wasn't going to find her. She'd been lying in the same position for the past several hours, her eyes wide open, despite her sleepyness. Rolling over on to her side, she stretched for a little and tested the dexterity of her injured leg. It was still slightly sore underneath the linen dressing, so she decided to keep it on for a little longer. Testing how painful it would be to put her weight on the leg, she stood up slowly, and finding it to be alright, she dressed herself in her make-shift suit of chainmail armor to go outside. Downstairs of the rented rooms, there was a small tavern. Vilmah looked around to see if there were any familliar faces, and immediately saw a tall white-haired troll seated at the bar. His left tusk bore the scar of a fracture he'd recieved only days before, when he engaged in combat with Vilmah's commanding officer. Vilmah waved at him and said, "Morning!" The troll turned to her with a raised eyebrow. "Mornin'? It ain't no mornin'. It be about midnight." "Whatever, Nojinbu... I'm going out hunting," said the orc, as she walked towards the door. Before she could leave, an older female orc came to her with a letter. "Excuse me, but this came for you." Vilmah looked at the letter, suspiciously. She didn't often recieve mail, unless it was from the auction house. She tore it open, and saw what appeared to be a letter written in very tidy orcish. Dear Vilmah, I've come across someone who wants to help me get out of here. Do you think that you could meet him at the top of the hill, North of the place I'm in? Don't be shocked when you see him, he's a friend. --Najme Vilmah's eyes went wide as she read the letter. She loved the idea of helping her friend to leave, however, a part of her was dissapointed to see her leave. After a few seconds of thinking, she threw the parchment into the fireplace, and walked towards the door. "Bad news?" Asked Nojinbu, from behind his tankard. Vilmah shook her head, and smiled. "No. Not at all." With that, she left the tavern, and headed for the hill.
  7. Ooo, that was helpful, thanks. ^^
  8. Agreed! But I'm sure it's not just lazy Americans who pay for their services. How about just stupid lazy people period?
  9. ...for a RP idea. Message me, please, if you're interested. ^^
  10. I'm glad you found someone you can enjoy. Personally, if my guy wasn't a gamer, I don't think we'd get allong at all. Gaming is a big part of my life, since I go to school for it and do so many differen't kinds. (sports, too. I'm a little competative...)
  11. Can I do that to my boyfriend?? Because seriously, he doesn't want to RP as much as I do and it's making me sad. =(
  12. ((Agreed! Although it might not go the way you planned... ))
  13. Najme closed her eyes, well versed in what to do with a customer. As soon as Laron pulled away, she smiled. "Well, if you're really serious about helping me get out of here, you can have whatever you want. Free of charge." She stood up, and allowed the blanket that covered her to fall at her feet. Her body was thick and curvaceous, slightly dark in color with a bronze tint. On her neck and left breast were rows of scars, which appeared to be in bite patterns. Najme put her hands on her hips, and rocked back and fourth, a pose she practiced using with all of the other men who visited her. "Don't need to worry about the orc, he won't be back as long as I'm with a customer. ...how long do you think you'll take?"
  14. Najme thought for a moment. "Vilmah is a kind girl. She's very young and unspoiled by conflict... I'm not sure she'd have a problem with meeting you. As for your time, you paid for a bath and... well, whatever else comes with it, I suppose. One thing about this house, they don't get enough business to need to ask anyone to leave." She leaned back on her elbows. "I suppose you could leave any time between now, and tomorrow morning."
  15. Najme shook her head, smirking a bit as the night elf bowed naked to her. "The only friend I've got is a female orc. She comes and visits me sometimes. Other than that..." She took a moment to dry herself after leaving the tub. Without anything else to wear, she took a blanket and wrapped it around herself while hanging her skirt to dry. "...I never really had a family. I was raised by sea traders. As for when people go to sleep, usually just around sundown. Running around this area isn't a good idea, considering the things that lurk out there." Najme flexed her leg, and looked towards the door. "The only way out of here is through that door. This house is built into the rock, so there are now windows. My room is at the very end of the hall, so we're the deepest in. I don't know how far we'd get, if we tried to leave..."
  16. Najme watched Laron in shock as he washed her, the clothes she still had on now completely soaked. She blinked several times before answering his question. "Well no, not really. The others are actually paid girls. They rent out space and... well, this is their choice. The sheep, however..." she smirks. "I don't think this is the route they'd have chosen." Najme watched Laron wash her, feeling herself flush. She wasn't exactly used to anyone treating her with "human" kindness. "So... what's your name, anyway?"
  17. "Well, they keep me alive. Alive enough, I should say." Najme watched the night elf, slightly interested in the fact that he was actually going to use the bath. She never considered their kind to be as rough and tumble as those who would have used her shabby accomodations, but for some reason, he was actually getting undressed. She knelt down next to the tub with the soap, and took up a washcloth. "Well, I might as well, if you paid. Tell you the truth, I don't really mind." She dipped the cloth in the water, and scrubbed it against the soap while Laron got into the water. "I'm afraid it might now be very warm. Well, not any warmer than it is here, anyway... what were you doing here?" She asked, while rubbing down his skin with the soapy wash cloth.
  18. Najme rolled over and sat on the edge of the bed. "I've been here for too many weeks. I don't remember how long it's been... but I was sailing to Ironforge, when our ship was hit by a storm. I swam to shore, but some trolls found me and... well, here I am." She looked him over. "I'm not sure you should try to get me out. Besides the one you just saw, there are ten orcs working here, and several trolls. There are also a few goblins that could make some trouble for us, I believe they're spell casters of some sort..." she sighed. "Look, I don't want to see you get hurt because of me. I'm sure I'll get out of here, eventually."
  19. Najme nearly tripped on her shackle when she heard him speak Darnassian. She put a hand over her mouth, to supress her sounds of surprise. After a moment of thought, she looked around and leaned in close to him, speaking in a hurried tone. "You've got to et out of here. If they find out that you've snuck in, they'll kill you!" Najme's large brown eyes went wide as she listened to the sounds going on outside. The voices of several orcs could be heard, no far from her door. She leaned in quick and grabbed Laron by the shoulders, then threw him on to the bed. She dove atop him, and immediateley after, a large male orc walked in through her door with a spiked club. "Food," he grunted, in orcish. "Thank you, Zig!" Shouted Najme. "Now, could you please leave?" Zig lingered by the door for a second, dropping a tray of smouldering meat on the floor. He closed the door quietly behind him, leaving Najme to look Laron closeley in the face. "What are you doing here?? Do you have any idea how much they'll kill you if they find out you're here?!"
  20. Najme watched as the troll that entered her room told her to be quiet. She was rather used to this type of treatment... some of the men that came for her wanted her to be completeley silent while they had their fun. The fact that this partcular troll told her to be quiet was not surprising, considering the fact that he looked like a rogue, and that sort usually liked the silent type... She sat up, and walked over to the tub. The water was still slightly warm, but it was mostly room temperature. Few people could tell the difference. She stood up and faced him, then pointed to her articles of clothing; a loose shirt, torn in various places, and a short skirt. With a raised eyebrow, she asked silently; do you want these off?
  21. Vilmah awoke the next morning to find Najme getting ready to start a new day. In her room was a small wooden tub, which she was using to wash herself with luke-warm water and an old wash cloth. She had no soap, so instead she used the cloth to scrub her skin as hard as she could. Vilmah yawned and stretched, rubbing her eyes. "Morning already?" Najme turned towards her and smiled. Her long black hair was wet, and covered her dark skin like a blanket. "Yes. You know it isn't my place, but--" "I know..." Vilmah said with a sigh, getting out of bed and grabbing her bag. "No worries, Najme. I'll get stronger, and then I'll get you out of here. I promise." Najme stood and went over to Vilmah. To her surprise, the human brought her into a wet hug. "Be careful on your way out." The outside of Najme's room was a little busier than it had been during the night. There were men leaving each of the other rooms, some of them trolls, but most of them orcs. None of them gave her a passing glance as she left the house of debauchery, and none of them spoke. Walking outside of the house, she noticed a troll walk by who looked slightly shorter than average. She shrugged it off and continued on her way.
  22. Hey, I'd love to have you join in if you want!
  23. Vilmah wandered down the streets of Orgrimmar, her long black ponytail bouncing slightly with every step. Her large hands, equipped with brand new chain mail gloves, were folded behind her back as she gave merry smiles to anyone who happened to look her way. The grunts hailed her, and she hailed back as she walked past the huge doorway that led to their capital city. “Don’t be stranger, Vilmah,” said one, who had introduced himself as Krug on Vilmah’s first visit. She smiled at him and waved. “I won’t! I’ll be back soon.” She wasn’t a large orc, as their females come, and yet she carried with her weaponry suitable for a male twice her size. The hot Durotar sun beat down on her bare skull, which caused sweat to trickle down her skin and linger perilously close to her eyes before she wiped it away. Before long, she was taking a drink from a water skin. It’s full contents reassured her that she would survive the perilous walk that came with visiting her friend. Hours passed, and more than one creature tried to force Vilmah to turn back. However, it she kept a pleasant disposition about her, trying to remain as optimistic as the weather in Durotar would allow.Her persistency paid off when she finally came across a sizable domicile, hiding within the crevice of the mountainside. The red stones that built it matched the mountain’s color so perfectly, it took an experienced eye to spot the windows which marked it as the home of someone. When finally she arrived, the small sign which hung outdoors could be easily read. “Welcome to Jezvik’s House!” Chirped a goblin, as Vilmah walked in. She was seated behind a desk, dressed in garish purple robes. “Can I get you anything? Food, drink?” “No thanks,” Vilmah replied, taking a look around the foyer. Large painted portraits of goblins hung in most of the wall space, but here and there, a female orc or troll could be found posing in the nude. Turning back to the goblin who greeted her, Vilmah asked if Najme was available. “Najme? Hm… Najme… Najme…” Repeated the goblin, as she looked through a book in front of her. Using her long crimson painted fingernails, she trailed down a list of names until she came to Najme. “Oh, I’m sorry! She’s with someone, right now. Would you like to meet with someone else? A male, perhaps? We have some lovely things in stock!” Vilmah shook her head. “Oh, no thanks. I’ll just wait until she’s done, if that’s alright.” “Set in your tastes, are you?” Asked the goblin. “I’m not surprised. Every time you come here, you get the same thing.” A few minutes passed, and Vilmah took a seat on the small plush couch which leaned against a wall. The stuffing was soft and slightly uncomfortable. Vilmah fondly remembered the straw furniture that adorned most of the homes in her village. After a sizable amount of time, the light outside began to dim, allowing a draft to flow inside from an open window. “Stupid Durotar evenings…” The goblin female grumbled. “Hot as blazes one day, cold as Arthas’ heart the next…” When a tall and statuesque male orc emerged from the door to Vilmah’s right, her goblin greeter gave a nod. “You can go in, now.” “Thanks, Kixi,” Vilma said to the goblin before placing a stack of gold coins on her desk. She couldn’t help but look over the male who was leaving. He was well muscled, and much older than her. His black hair had streaks of gray, and there were large scars covering most of his unarmored body. She could tell by the dark clothes and daggers he wore, that he must have been a rogue of some sort. Walking through the front door, the young orc could smell what reminded her of Orgrimmar. The stench of accumulated dust, sweat, and blood. It left a stale metallic taste on her tongue, which made her even more eager to reach Najme’s room. The door at the end of the tunnel held promise for a brighter night ahead. “Najme?” Asked Vilmah, as she tapped against a pale wooden door. There was silence. Then, “Come in.” Vilmah opened the door to a tiny room. Inside, the walls were mostly bare except for a faded coat of paint. The floor space was mostly taken up by a large bed, covered in silk blankets and pillows. Sitting at the edge, facing the window, was a muscularly build human female. “Najme! How are you? I came as soon as I was allowed by my superiors,” said Vilmah cheerfully, as she walked up to sit next to the human. “I’ve brought you some roast plain strider meat, some melons, bananas, cheese… how have you been?” Najme turned to face Vilmah. The sight of the orc’s cheerful face reminded her of her kind, if only for a few short moments. This one, at least, she knew would never hurt her in the ways her race had done before. “Oh, you know. The usual. Thanks for the food, you know you don’t have to bring me anything.” “I thought you deserved it. I’m able to stay a little longer, this time. We can stay up talking all night!” “You know that never works out, Vilma. I wish you’d tell me why you don’t want to go to sleep.” Vilmah shook her head, and dismissed the question “Anyway, the general of my division was kind enough to promote me, so I’ve been getting more funds!” Vilma paused to smile. “He’s nice. You’d really like him.” “What’s his name?” Vilmah bit her lip and grinned. “General Gorthok. He’s been nicer to me than anyone ever has, before. Especially after I was finally able to leave Kuruck.” “Your little village can’t have been that bad, Vilmah,” said Najme as she fished through Vilmah’s bag. “How is Galrok? Have you found him, yet?” Vilmah’s smile faded. She remembered the day that her oldest childhood friend entered an inn where she was drinking, only to have forgotten their childhood, and his entire life before joining the military. “I… well, yes. Sort of. ough, I wanted to tell you I’ll be strong enough, soon.” “Strong enough? Vilmah, lets not talk about this again…” Vilmah shook her head. “No, really! I’ll be strong enough to at least be able to get past the goblins. My division is strong too, and I’m sure I could get someone to help me. After all, Death Before Dishonor is just that! We’re all for honor, and nobody would think that this… this is…” “Honorable,” Najme finished for her. The orc paused. “…well, it’s not like it’s your fault. They did this to you, and as a proud member of the Horde it’s my job to weed out the injustices that remain.” Najme sighed, and leaned back into her bed. The tinkling of metal could be heard clearly, as the enchanted ankle brace on her leg rocked against the chain attaching it to the stone wall. “Vilmah, I’m not myself any more. I’m not sure if I’d ever be able to do the things I used to do, if I were to leave. It’s so much easier just to lie back… and,” she noticed that Vilmah didn’t see to be following. “Anyway, Vilmah it’s nice of you to want to help me, but really. I’m doing you a favor. The more soldiers come in her to… spend time with me, the less they’ll hassle you on the battleground. Right?” “I’d rather a hundred of them hassle me than one of them treat you so mean, Najme,” Vilmah said with a sigh. “I’m sorry ‘m not strong enough to get you out of here, yet. Just hold on. I’ll find a way. Then you’ll never have to come back here, or face any of those… those…” “Orcs.” Vilmah nodded. “Remember, Vilmah. I was a solder for the Alliance before I was taken,” Najme said while unpeeling a banana. “If I’m free, I’ll have to go back. I might be fighting against you and your men. How can you let that happen?” Vilmah smiled. “Oh, I trust you! I know you wouldn’t purposely hurt me. Or anyone else, for that matter! You’re a nice person, Najme. You should be free to go home.” Najme nodded. “Right. Home…” The longer Vilmah stayed, the darker it got. Soon, her need for rest for the better of the young orc, and she reluctantly settled down into Najme’s bed. The human tucked her in carefully, making sure not to disturb her sleep. There was a quiet bond between the two, that was more easily understood in sleep than in consciousness. Before Najme blew out her candle, she gave Vilmah a kiss on the forehead. “What do you dream about that you hate sleep so much?” Najme murmured quietly. Vilmah stirred slightly in her sleep, moving close to Najme and holding her close in her sleep. “…d-don‘t…don‘t hurt me…..” “Good night, Vilmah.”