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About Verloran

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    Senior Member
  1. Verloran


    I felt better after I woke up the second time, but I was hungry. Indisputably, undeniably hungry. I stepped out of the tower with the intention of searching for some sort of food. I stopped dead in my tracks when I saw that the bonfire outside the tower was lit, and that standing right next to it was what appeared to be the spirit of a deceased woman in monk‘s robes. I held myself perfectly still, watching. The spirit stayed by the fire, motionless except for an occasional turn of the head. Coming up the path from the lower part of the island was another spirit clad in armor, wielding a sword. I slowly stepped back into the tower, silently praying that my presence would go unnoticed. I was half naked and completely unarmed, too weak to put up any kind of fight. I didn’t know that these spirits were hostile, but I’ve rarely met a spirit who wasn’t. I pressed my back to the inner wall of the ruined tower, closing my eyes and thinking. There was land to the north of me, and not too far off. I was weak with hunger, but I could probably make the swim. Getting off the island would be another issue entirely. I could try to run past these spirits and however many there were, hoping I could make it to the bottom and swim away before they could catch me, I could dive from the top and hope I hit the water, or I could simply wait. These spirits were not here when I first woke up, so it was clear that they only temporarily manifested. My thoughts were interrupted by a low, eerie wail. My eyes opened in alarm; the wail was coming from the other side of the tower wall! The wail was joined by another, then another. Soon there were haunting cries coming from every corner, every edge, every space of the island. Using the acoustics of the large, hollow structure I had chosen as my resting place, the sounds amplified tenfold, filling my ears with their sadness. It was like a pack of wolves sadly mourning the dead, but so much worse. I thought I would go mad. The sound grew louder, the varying pitches and frequencies clashing, reverberating, threatening to drive me mad! I nearly ran my head into the cold stone wall, trying to stop the sounds. Then, in sharp contrast to it’s slow, deliberate growth, the sound stopped. Every pitch, every frequency ceased save for one, and I realized with terror that it was me, screaming, crying for it to end. I managed to quiet myself, but it was too much effort too late. Through the entrance of the tower glided the spirit in monk’s robes. She stared at me through cold, lifeless eyes. I could only stare back, helpless. She slowly approached, her movements a steady, fluid motion. I could tell this wasn’t going to end well. I gathered what little courage I had left after that unnatural song and, in a moment of either bravery or blind stupidity, I rushed past the spirit, sprinting through the entranceway of the tower to the edge of the upper cliffs of the island. I turned and looked back only long enough to see her rushing after me. No, not just her… the whole island! She was wailing again, and they were wailing, and they were coming for me… I screamed and turned back, throwing my life into the wind as I jumped.
  2. You might know Verloran if you... -have ever seen one of his presentations on the applications of medicine -have ever seen one of his presentations on the the intricacies of the mind -have ever seen one of his posters advertising his work as a doctor -have spent a lot of time in the Library of Stormwind -have seen a Night Elf in a hat sitting in the middle of Stormwind's Trade District doing absolutely nothing
  3. Verloran


    ((/endlurk)) The battle was almost underway. I had gotten to Refuge Pointe not ten minutes before the first charge was launched. It scared me to think that I might miss this battle. As I rode around the field outside Refuge Point, gazing at the faces of all those anxious soldiers waiting for a taste of Horde blood, I realized that the last time I had been in a battle this size had been the battle between Horde and Alliance at Karazhan, and even that had not been quite as massive. Looking at the sheer number of Alliance soldiers waiting to fight, and knowing that the Horde had just as many, I could only imagine how the field would look when the battle was over. I managed to spot a friend among the crowd, an Elf named Glassclaw. I rode over to him, careful to not run into anyone on the way, and tapped him on the shoulder. “This should be interesting, eh?” “Interesting?” He turned toward me and laughed. “This will be fun!” I smirked, remembering when I felt that same way. “I haven’t been in a battle this large in a very long time,” I said, gazing across the fields of Arathi. “I almost miss the old anxiety.” I didn’t exactly want to be there. I’ve long felt that battles with the Horde are unnecessary, even detrimental to our progress regarding larger, more important issues. Nevertheless, as a soldier of the Alliance army, it was my duty to be in the field. As someone called out that we were almost ready to charge, I put my feelings aside and prepared myself for the clash of forces that was to come. A man yelled for us to charge. After that moment, everything became a blur. I remember riding amidst a sea of my comrades. I remember fighting in a vast ocean of chaos and blood, screams of the dying, the sight of the newly slain. The clash of steel and the cries of the wounded. The smell of death. All of my senses were assaulted with the horrors of the battle until a dull haze creeped over my mind. I was fighting and killing and trying not to be killed myself, and that is all I can remember. Through the haze I heard a voice cry out that we had won the field and were moving on Hammerfall. Then I heard another voice yell that Hammerfall was ours, and that our next goal was Lady Sylvannas in the ruins of Lordaeron. I managed to find my cat and I mounted him, riding back to Refuge Pointe. I tried my hardest to not look at the ground on the way back, but as the haze of battle began to lift itself from my mind, I could not help but stare at the bodies of the slain. It was a sight that I had seen many times before, but it was never a sight I could get used to. As I flew to Chillwind Camp, two brief thoughts crossed my mind. The first was that, taking into account the size of the Horde and Alliance forces that had gathered, the battle had gone very quickly. The second thought was more of a question. I roughly estimated that about sixty people had chartered flights up to Chillwind. Where had the gryphon master been keeping all those gryphons? Chillwind was incredibly disorganized when I landed. Frenzied soldiers were running past and under and over each other like a colony of ants. I tried to move out of the crowd, but my efforts were in vain. I looked around in a panic, searching for a way out; my claustrophobia was setting in, and I had to find some space. Armed soldiers closed in on me from every side, threatening to crush me between them. I tried to push through, to force my way out, but I only forced myself further in. Suddenly, the horde of people moved as if of one mind, pushing north into Andorhal. I rode with them, option less. To stay would mean a very painful death by trampling. As we crossed the small land bridge into the town, an incredible bout of bad luck passed my way in the form of a Draenei riding a large mammoth. This mammoth took a sudden swerve into my cat, knocking me off the saddle and into the water of Darrowmere Lake. I could have died plenty of times that night, and my fall into the water could have been the easiest. The weight of my armor had me sinking to the bottom like a stone. I fought with all my strength to get to the surface while removing as much of my gear as I could, but it seemed to be a losing battle. The light above the surface of the water was growing dimmer… or was that just my vision? I couldn’t tell as I struggled out of my plate armor. I finally managed to remove enough weight to make it to the surface, but my victory was short-lived. My arms were so worn out of strength that I could not stay above the water for more than a few fleeting moments. I was furious, and I was growing weaker by the moment. The burning in my lungs reached a point so great that I thought they were enflamed. As more armor made it off my body, I felt a greater need for that precious, life-giving air that I was deprived of. I had only just removed the last of my armor and begun floating towards the surface when I passed out. -------------------------------------------------- When I awoke, I was no less than terrified. I was disoriented, dazed and confused. I had no idea where I was, and even less of an idea of how I got there. I appeared to be on an island, though I had never seen anything quite like it before. There were ruined gates, tables, crates… and a body hanging by the neck from a tree. I quickly got up from the water to take a closer look and to calm my raging mind. The first thing I noticed after seeing the body was the staleness of the air, as if this place had been untouched for a long time. The second thing I noticed was that it was very cold. Colder than it should have been. I took a deep breath and hugged my arms to my bare chest, trying to warm myself. I saw that the land sloped up and turned in a spiral shape. Naturally, I decided to make my way to the top with the hope of discovering my location. The island was fairly small, so it didn’t take me long to reach the top. My eyes were greeted with the sight of an unlit bonfire outside an old, abandoned tower. I went inside and found several opened crates of unused supplies. The whole situation was very strange, but I resolved to leave the mystery to itself until I could find out where I was and where the nearest town was. The only thing I found in the crates that could remotely be of use was an old, dusty spyglass. I took it from the crate and stepped outside, looking through the stained lens in every direction. I could see land to the north, and it didn’t look too far off. A sudden wave of nausea brought me to my knees, and I realized that I was in no condition to move, let alone swim. I slowly pulled myself back into the ruined tower and lay down under the half-rotted spiral staircase, determining that I would leave as soon as I was rested.
  4. Hay, wut abowt mee? *throws pie* =P
  5. When stuff like this happens to me, I go play the opposite faction. It doesn't really happen to me, btw. But go play the opposite faction anyways. >.>
  6. I've heard it said by many, and I quite agree. Herthan has a face like an angry bunny. Nice work!
  7. Verloran

    Sifar Beld

    Very good friend of mine. I don't know many Dwarves, but she's definately an example of the best they can be as a race. Kinda cute, too. For a Dwarf.
  8. I actually thought of this a while back, before the expansion came out. "Wouldn't it be great if the Blood Elves knew common, since they were part of the Alliance, and Draenei knew Orcish, since they lived with the Orcs on Draenor for so long? We could have cross faction communication in-game!" And yet again, Blizzard phails. I think it would be perfectly logical for both BEs and Draenei to know the opposing faction's main language. You see plenty of High Elves speaking common, for example. BEs should be able to do the same thing. It's just a shame Blizzard didn't try to bring it into the game.
  9. Verloran read and re-read the letter, not quite sure of it's full meaning. He held onto it for a few more moments before putting it in his pocket. He swept his gaze accross Wildhammer Keep, then brought it down to his tabard. His tabard that he had come to know and respect since he had first become a part of Haven. Silently he promised himself that it would live on.
  10. Since I have two accounts for this server, and I'm fairly active on both of them, I can't say I entirely agree with having to pick one of these accounts to not be able to see faction-specific stuff for... Ok, so the above sentence totally shows my phailure of grammar. Anywho, I don't have any Horde characters of high enough level to really need those boards anyway, so feel free to get rid of my Djida'bali account for the Horde boards.
  11. PSYCHOLOGIST Mind Doctor/Therapist Looking for Work Helps people who have: * Emotional Problems * Mental Problems * Any Other Problems * Anything At All * Whatever You Can Think Of All meetings are completely classified, low fees and 100% satisfaction guaranteed. Please contact Mr. Verloran Lightbreeze via Goblin Mail
  12. I'm not Alliance. I just look like an Elf. *nods*
  13. "The Kirin'Tor, huh? I don't really know that much about them, but I'll help you out with whatever I can. It gets so boring around here sometimes.. it'll be nice having you around again." Verloran smiled back at the young half Elf. Looking around, he saw the tavern begining to empty as people left to go about their daily duties. Most of them, he knew, only needed money for more alcohol. "Is there anything you need right now," he said, looking back at Crysa, "or should we stay and chat a little longer?"
  14. It's happened to me before. Sometimes I've been able to figure out who it was.. other times is pretty much the same reaction you had. *makes a 'wtf?' face*
  15. From two blades to one Still gets ganked by lots of Horde Misses Fury some