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About Solenev

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    Senior Member
  • Birthday 11/20/1980

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  1. You might know Solenev if you... - Were a very young street rat or had parents who left you to run amok while they frequented mana dens about 150 years ago. - Frequented or lived within the more upscale Houses of Silvermoon before the Scourge for the past hundred or so years - Partied with the miscreants of Silvermoon - Were collared by Doctor Villinger and were thrown into his Asylum - Lived in the castle of Melar Danashj or spent any time doing crazy shit with Melar Danashj
  2. Solenev


    So much to write, so little time to scribble this down. Nasuj has returned. Xerjerna is missing. Styxen and I have learned all we need to know about magic, for now. Cairne still stands in Thunder Bluff and I might have had a little something to do with that.
  3. I closed the door and watched as the boys barricaded it. I think Styxen had the most fun, knocking apart the stables one swing of his giant mace at a time. I had the urge, several times, to just torch the whole thing and be done with it. Stone does not burn. It scorches, but it does not burn. A darker side of me wants to leave the Bastion (in so many ways) as a torched out shell. I wanted to destroy everything, burn the Tapestry and light the sconces on fire. Though reason and financial ruin have made me somewhat prudent in this time of economic gouging. I sold all the candleabra and sconces to a junk dealer for a steal. The money went toward accommodation for those who are left homeless after I forced us all to leave Deadwind Pass. Like Medivh's Tower, it is a ghost and forgotten memory of a glorious time, but a time long past recompense. It will pay for itself. I will see to it. All the leftovers were put under the frighteningly watchful direction of the skeleton doll. If she were not Forsaken, then I would think her an elemental of darkness. Her presence in my halls I will not miss. She is honest, though, and true to Nasuj or at least to his memory. Nasuj is gone. He left to collect something, I did not remember what it was, but he had to tell me about it. He pointedly told me, "I am off to do this Solenev." That in itself should have tipped me off. For several years we lived together under the same roof and when people share traumatic events they often form a bond that is stronger than normal. So when he told me what he was up to, when he had to say, "I am off to do this Solenev." I should have known he was planning to leave us. A man, like a fickle client, who leaves carries a scent. It is a promise of nothing. I cannot decide whether I am angry or complacent. He left everything and even placed valuables in the house accounts, which was strangely philanthropic. Let it be known that yes Nasuj was a giving soul, but hardly that giving. None of us are. So to see the doors barricaded and to sell all the tapestries, furniture, and larder to such low bidders took some energy out from me. I considered visiting a mana den, just to replenish, but if the Isle has taught me anything it is that too much mana is a bad thing. I would rather not become wretched. I would rather remain thus. Clear-headed and aware. It is in this that I realised I have no record of my life, as it is. Seeing Mainyu again in the ruins of Silvermoon reminded me of old times, happier times. I had not seen him for decades, nearing half a century. To know that he succumbed to the Lich King, but gained his freedom, it changes my relationship to him and the man I knew as him. As the boy that I knew. I then began to wonder about who I was and my place in the works. Who is this woman who grew up on the streets like a cliché, swooped down by preying hawks, raised as a companion to those with gold, rumbled as the foundations of Silvermoon shook, and then rise again in the even-more-so cliché concept of a phoenix from the ashes? Who indeed is this woman that was only a street rat? I find it odd that of the men and women, with which I had lain, it would take a man to be my partner. Then again, only two years from hence the concept of a relationship such as this is confusing to me. Styxen is so honest, brutally so, but I know that when he says what he says to me in the confines of our relationship together it is brutal truth. In that I trust. In him I trust unlike any other. My quill is sharp. The ink is flush. Stories flow from those around me and I seek to tell them and seek to be a part of them. That is how I met him. While there is no doubt in my mind that Styxen is my one true companion and I have no illusions of fantasy when it comes to him. I still felt such awe within his presence. I have been trained to be accommodating and attentive, as is proper and effective, but I find him fascinating. He is very much a man, but I know I could never touch him in a professional way. In fact, I do not think he even finds me attractive which (sad to say) makes him seem all the more alluring to me. Confusing. Am I so shallow that I think all men would find me irresistable? I must be. No great reflection on my own personality, I think. He sought me out. Styxen was distracted by a shoveltusk. I so dislike those creatures. I was turned about, unsure which direction he had gone. While I am used to the northern location of Eversong, I am not used to the cold weather of Northrend. I cannot find comfort and solace in chilly air. It does not suit me. He rode by. It was hard to see what he looked like except that he was large, perhaps as tall as a troll, perhaps as tall as Styxen, certainly he was taller than me. Perhaps it was that he was mounted on an elekk. Or maybe it was one of those giant elekk type creatures with all the shaggy fur. Perhaps he had drank a potion to make himself large. I do not know. I just knew of his presence and for an instant I was sure he was Alliance set upon me to kill me. Even now, not eight hours has passed since the episode, and I am foggy in my recall of it. "Solenev." Startled at my name I was ready to attack, but he threw the book at me. Literally. He tossed a package at me and rode off, laughing with the same kind of echoing laugh that the Headless Horseman had. That echoed through me, chilled me. I opened the package and there were two things inside. A book and a narrow belt bag with something in it. The book caught my eye and I saw it was runed and it felt powerful. I opened the first page and there was a letter. It read to burn it after reading, which I did. It read to never speak of it again, which I cannot help but do, for the whole thing unnerved me. He knew my name. He said he had been watching me for some time. All of us. He said it was amusing that we fancied ourselves Pipers. Fancied, he said. In the letter he wrote that he was the only one. He was the Piper. We were to stop pretending. The little bag held a piccolo. I own one. They're not rare things and you can even steal them from a flautist in Stratholme, but this one had a note attached and it said that it was for my sister Frieya. Not many know we are sisters, of a fashion. We both went separate ways almost a year ago to this date. When Nasuj kicked everyone but only the few from the Bastion, he kicked Frieya out too. As for this Piper. I was furious and wanted to know how he knew so much about me and about those I loved. I chased after him and I know now that he wanted to be found. He was on a log, not far off, sitting with one hand on his knee and dangling a sword from fingers. He smiled at me, cocky and knowing, in a way that made me feel I had been judged long before this meeting. "I know your kind. Whore with the golden heart. I like what you represent and I see you aim to make a name for yourself picking up the street filth. Yet you are no Queen of the Rats, girl. You're an old whore who has no place in this world as a leader." I was ready to attack him, but I am now impressed with my ability to remain calm. Styxen is a better influence on me than I give him credit for (at least to his face). I just let him talk. I just let him spout off his ego drivel. Only when he explained why he sought me out, it was more than just drivel. Sometimes in our life we meet someone that is a (and I am searching hard for an apt metaphor) course changer. Villinger (in his vile way) was one for me. I was one for Styxen. Nasuj was one for a great many people. I could sense right off that this giant of a man, this Piper, was. I could not see him behind his leathers. I could hear his voice and know that he had some of the laughing guile of that earlier named Headless Horseman, but this was flesh and not a ghoul. He told me he was taking over and that I would be relegated to my rank in Melar Danashj as Ashj Shi and he told me what it actually meant which unnerved me as I thought I was the only one who understood. I was the one who had suffered under Curse of Tongues from a human warlock to know what I was saying to her in Demonic. He knew, though. He knew my secrets. He said, "I do not want your sexual body. It is used and useless to me and no doubt you are riddled with diseases that will make my [parts] fall off." Again, being with Styxen has relaxed me somewhat to attacks on my sexual cleanliness. I am used to them now and use them as often as he does. I only responded with, "If you will it to be so, then it is." He laughed that echoing laugh. "I want you for your stories. I trust you'll tell Styxen all about our meeting. You will. You have no guile and you are gutless, woman. You will tell him everything because my knowledge of you scares you. I know a great many things about you even your Nasuj did not know. I now know you are in a place where I can use this knowledge to direct you for my own efforts. You will, you know. You will see that I am not a harsh master and my yoke is far lighter than the one the Doctor had placed around your somewhat pretty neck." I stood firm, the hope of a spell at my thoughts at all times, but it is my ego and my fallacy that I wanted to hear what he had to say. I wanted him to tell me something to tell Styxen. I wanted a story. I have been craving a story. I did not attack. I could not. For the Piper offers me something that nobody else can. The fact that he knows more about me than even I let on, unnerves me, frightens me. He is a leader, when I am not.
  4. It's beautiful. The ears are so very interesting.
  5. Solenev


    I haven't heard from her in awhile. There is much I want to discuss. I hope she does return.
  6. <p>I do hope you come back.</p>

  7. Frieya, It is has been a long time. I thought I would send you a little note and ask how you are doing. Like a proper letter, I should wax something about the weather, but I am seldom long enough in one spot to even give time to the weather. Nasuj has left us, that I am certain. He has not returned to the Bastion in several months. He took Xerjerna with him and said he was going out to get something at the store. It was rather confusing why he would even mention it in the first place as I never checked up on his activity, nor he check up on mine. The sheer fact he mentioned it in the first place makes me ponder it over and over. Such a conundrum. Styxen left for some epic battle and he will not tell me where all his scars have come from. He brought home with him a cocky, knowing fellow who seems to act like he knows everything about me. Styxen is so close-lipped I can't imagine he would have said a thing about me to him, but yet this Saitoros fellow looks at me like he's been in my bed. I can assure you, he has not. I was playing my piccolo in Undercity the other night and thought of you. Are you well? I hope so. The ice is coming from the North and I think all of us are nervous. Your sister, Solenev.
  8. Out of Character Information Street Rats is a mid-heavy roleplay guild. This post is under construction as is the guild site at Everything's new and until I am able to figure out how to change CSS colours, it will look ass. We are recruiting, but we are a small guild and intend to remain small. Age Requirement: 21 and older. No exceptions.
  9. Softly shushes the glowing green ooze as it pushes through the sewers of the Undercity. Hooves clatter on the stone bridge above, then fade into the nothingness of night. Underneath sits a crimson-haired blood elf. She holds a piccolo in her hand, fingers splayed over holes. She presses her lips to the mouthpiece, then she plays. Her song is one of adventure. It dances across the glowing green and up the moss-covered walls, out into the Azerothian sky above with hundreds upon hundreds of stars. Her song is one of romance. It catches a pair of young lovers pressed against a copse of trees, their lips sing the words. Their hearts beat the rhythm. Her song is one of family. Two brothers of no similar mother fish at the edge of the lake, their pants rolled above their knees, water pooling out in rolling rivulets. The fishing line zings along with the melody. Her song is one of battle. A warrior charges, his body taut, his eyes hard as he slams his shield into the body of his foe. He cleaves a bloody slice. Her song is one of homecoming. She opens her eyes, they glow with sated joy. Her lips upturned. All across Azeroth, others pick up their piccolos and play along.
  10. ((Amazing. Holy Lore batman.))
  11. Solenev


    ((Updated for guild info and the like.))
  12. Solenev


    I was surprised by her bearing when I approached her to sign the guild charter. She was very coherent, smelled only a bit of thistle, but then... so many do these days. When she asked to stay with us I was so overwhelmed by a sense of delight in finding a new family. She will be an interesting one to watch this one. I want to learn what I can about her.
  13. Solenev


    Morning which meant breakfast before bed. The diner was half-empty at this hour as the suburban sprawlers heading from Razor Hill into Orgrimmar left their mostly eaten plates with nymph-blood syrup behind on tables. Solenev clicked her way across terracotta tiles to the stand by the far wall where the orc had placed a small basin and mirror. She lifted her red hair and frowned at the black eye. Styxen would have to take a look at it. He hated it when she showed up beaten after a night at the Drag. She moved her cigarette from one hand to another. He hated it when she showed up at all these days. No way you could look at it, gold was scarce and honest work completely impossible. The real money came from the exchange of goods. She had goods to exchange, so be it. Solenev took a drag of her dying cigarette, then tapped out the ashes into the sink. "You've really gotta quit." The man said from his perch at the wooden counter. "A pretty girl like you shouldn't be smoking that crap." Solenev sneered at him, then left. She hated it when people acknowledged her presence. It ruined breakfast.
  14. I run into this often with alts. I start out with an idea but it's not concrete enough and as I play it they just stop having a personality. My hunter is like that. She just has a great name when it's said on vent. Other than that, no personality.
  15. Slight derail: A Star Wars Geek eh Qabian?