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About Elek Quentin

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  • Birthday 01/27/1983

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  1. Perusing through the Gazette, you stumble upon a most peculiar page. It appears from the description, that a goblin reporter had found the remnants of a journal and brought it back with him to publish. Presumably the journal was badly damaged from the elements, leaving out any reference to the name of the writer. The text suggests that their 'team of engineers' are working on restoring the rest. More than likely, the green skinned money-seekers felt they could sell a few more copies of the paper if they only periodically posted it in segments, rather than all at once or with a name. ===================================== I ran... ... I ran away. The one thing I had promised not to do, vowed to never do... ... I did. I ran away from everyone and everything I had known, and crawled, dragged, and pulled my way as far as I could get. Hypocrite? Perhaps. Coward? Some could say. I have faced hundreds, thousands of enemies in a charging stride. I have fought demons, assassins, The Scourge... kingdoms even. I am a veteran of three wars. I have survived and overcome every horror of this world, of the Outlands, and even on the frozen banks of Icecrown. Yet with all my experience, with all my ability, there was one adversary I was unable to hold against; one lingering foe that I had come to fear and falter before... ...myself. Well... and love I suppose. Even if I must begrudgingly admit it somewhere among these pages. I write this as I am still able to, for tomorrow may mark the day when I cannot, or will not then on. For now, I am of my own mind, and still see the world in clear thought. At first I had dreaded the coming end, shaking and crying in the cold and dark as if hiding would keep it away. It was folly, to be sure - and now I simply await the day, thinking back over how this happened. I am appalled at what I have become - at the things I have done - and all the mistakes that I have made. I was too blind to see the grand picture then, but it so very clear to me now. The Eclipse was my undoing. Forgive me, Xaraphyne. I should have been more pressing. I should have been more insistent. I should have told you what I thought of my brother. I backed down and relied on you to choose. I had felt that such a thing was 'honorable.' I believed that it was fair. I should have shown you strength, should have shown you certainty, and I should have shown you that you were the one I had chosen. We had helped one another up so many times... I am sorry that I missed the chance to offer you my hand when you needed it the most. Your visit at the guild hall was unexpected. And your words still echo in my mind today. Everything that we had both needed to say, we did. It was so wonderful to hold you in my arms again and catch the scent of your hair as you remained so close. I ruined my armor that day, left on the forge while we closed a book left too long open. Yet even though the plate failed me that night and had nearly cost me my life... I had not ever felt so alive. It was a good price to pay, and never shall I regret it. I love you, Xaraphyne Nawe, I truly do. Forgive me, Tassha. Despite your own mistakes, you sought out and found the means to resolve them. You paid your dues, more so than anyone could ever be expected to. You changed in ways I could have never thought possible. You are a remarkable example of the power and potential of the Light. It is difficult even now to express the sensations and feelings that I have when I think of you and our time within that 'prison.' In the end, there were no secrets between you and I. We knew one another better than any two people ever could. We were lost. But together, we had found the means to reclaim the reigns of our lives. May no one ever suffer the evil that you endured in my hands. Even if we were to spend an eternity there, trapped... I could think of no better person to spend it with. Forgive me, Rosalynd. You did not deserve my trickery, and I am truly sorry for the bruises I had left upon your heart. I was blind. So caught up in my desire to rebuild and maintain the foundation of our people that I forgot about the people themselves. I did not think for myself, only for the city. You did not desire the city... only me. My shortsighted goals became my only passion and I am ashamed to admit that I had led you on through false intentions. My narrow view saw only the potential you had within you to become what I felt would be the city's greatest necessity. A Blood Knight, true to the meaning, true to the original design. The world was changing, and in my zeal, I refused to change with it. What I did was despicable. I should not have played your emotions in the manner that I did. I eventually came to the point where I had begun to realize what I was doing, yet guided on the same course feeling that it would result in a lesser ordeal in the end. I had come to fear how much it would hurt you to find out, and rather than being open about the problem, I kept going, thinking I could somehow find a gentle solution. Which brings to mind another person. Cessily. Oh what words there are for you. I shall keep it brief though. Despite your brash exterior, I feel that I have come to understand you better than you probably want to admit. You are a catalyst. You see the world as a collection of things you can change, or at the least, toy with. People are your plaything, and the harder they resist, the better. While I know that should you ever read these words, you will simply shrug them off. As such, may I remind you... ...I know how to make you beg. In either case, I should return to my purpose of this writing. Forgive me, Soa. I never could quite understand quite what drove you. Your relentless expedience and exhibition of desire often left me behind, bewildered and wondering. Perhaps I was simply too old to keep up. More likely though, it was my fear of your love. Or at least what you called 'love.' In one way or another, I have never been so confused in my life. Constantly I felt like I was struggling to keep up; drowning as I tried to tread the waters. I should have told you 'enough'. I should have been firm in my decision, rather than haphazardly trying to navigate the labyrinthine flurry of emotions that ran rampant between us. I should have admitted my defeat, rather than dragging out what need not have been. Please excuse my foolishness. May you finally find the love you are searching for. I wish that I may have understood your rush and urgency. Forgive me, Pearlle. I wish I could simply stop there with that, but I owe you. I owe you from a broken heart and unfilled promises. Lady Pearlle, you were quite probably, the first Sin'dorei woman that I would have been happy to have married. Wise, jovial, compassionate... I am sorry that my lack of faith in my own emotions prevented me from keeping my word to you. My confidence in love had been faltering, tarnished and damaged from experience and downturn. Your smile, your humor, your touch... I needed it, wanted it, desired it even. I would have struck down any male that questioned your honor. I would have defended you without question. I debated myself with quandaries of 'what if this is simply a rebound', 'what if things do not turn out in the end', and a string of other thoughts that only further served to complicate the matter. You were right. I made things more complicated than they needed to be. I said I had wanted things to be simple. As did you. Yet I unwittingly undermined myself every step of the way. I understand now that it should not be a matter of 'what if', but rather, 'try and see.' That is what I should have done with you, Lady Pearlle. I should have silenced my questions and wayward wonders and had us walk into the unknown at one another's side. If things would not have worked out in the ultimate end, there was still no sense not to try and enjoy the moments we would have had. Whatever the end would have been, it would have been better to reach it together. You deserve an honest love, Pearlle. Please know, that I can still feel the touches of your fingertips upon my heart and the brush of your lips against my own. May you find a love that can be both true to you, and true with himself. Yet with all of these people whom I ask forgiveness, there is one that I simply cannot. Damn you, Sinaku. May you be held and judged accountable for your deeds and for the lives you have destroyed. Know that the souls of the lost shall find you when you leave this mortal realm. You cannot claim innocence with cries of possession, as can not I either. The hatred you held against the Sin'dorei was yours. Your desire to kill, was yours. You were the one that fueled it, blinded by your own rage as you rampaged onward beneath the nudges of a guiding hand. Oblivious. I should have killed you and your sister when I had the chance. Perhaps one day, I still may find the opportunity.
  2. <p>Oh hey, I totally fail at checking messages.</p>

  3. <p>>_></p>



  4. I am not sure about any widespread issues of people not speaking to one another, or the major disruption of friends, there certainly were disagreements in the end and a lot of issues that arose from lack of communication and bad timing. While Videlle and I were left do as we would with a continuance of the story, her and my plans were to work together for awhile to lay out the details of the events that were to have happened between where the original thread ended, and where the next was supposed to begin. There was never any decision or even thought by her or myself to pick and choose who would be 'good enough' to play along. Our intentions were to develop the major plotline of the new episode together before people got involved. We wanted to ensure that we could provide a story that had a concrete and solid foundation before opening up the new bits to others. Our belief was that if we had allowed too much detail too soon, or direct counter-action at the very onset of our writings, that someone would project themselves into a way that would have obviously and entirely disrupted the entire concept. The idea here was that if someone did this, there wouldn't be a story to tell anymore. Besides, if someone rode in and killed either of the worgen early... the whole premise would have ended right there. We didn't want that. Her and I were nearing a point where we were ready to introduce the wanting players and had spoken together about several of which to write jointly about the dream or vision or whatever triggering scenario that would start them on their way. This is why we requested that people drop us a line. We had wished to design and portray the worgen characters as not exactly as "evil", but more along the lines as a desperate people who would go to any end to ensure their own survival. They killed because the chaos, the fear, and the suffering sustained them... not because they were hungry for blood or just simply enjoyed a slaughter. In essence, the fear in those around them, fed them. It was their food. It was their nourishment. Without it, they would literally starve and die. We had hoped that in the end of the story, at least one or two of the main players would realize this, and interject the question and wonder of right and wrong. Mainly... would it be 'right' to kill off a sentient creature that solely only wishes for its people to survive. There is no question that the writings were more upon the graphic side. In all honesty, I did tone each and every one of them down before posting. We knew it would be questionable, that not everyone would agree, but decided on the course out of a desire to clearly convey that the worgen had no qualm, worry or second thoughts about the actions they took or the lives they silenced. I had even cut out all of the graphic bits from one particular post, and placed the unedited one into the Adult forum. We figured that our players were mature individuals, and that only those interested in the bloody details would even bother to go and read them. We had not anticipated the fallout and are regretful that things did not turn out the way he had envisioned. The part about bad timing was that it came around the time of the breakup of the Cartel Enforcers. Videlle had taken this very hard and took extended breaks from WoW. This, coupled with the confusion and questions that arose from the new plot, ended up only worsening the matter. In the end, we had both decided to drop the storyline, and everyone went along their way.
  5. "Dead? Aest Ressan is dead?" the Knight-Lord asked, shaking his head in disbelief. A hand rubbed at his jaw for a few moments, marking the onset of a heavy sigh, "if that is true, I suspect the same of Lady Du Coudray. The last I had known, they had planned to spend some time together - neither had been seen or heard from since." Shaking his head again, the Sin'dorei turned around to walk away from the Goblin Reported, "terrible news indeed." Stopping in his tracks, Elek peered back over his shoulder once the green-skinned journalist had spoken up again. Brows furrowed as eyes squinted in a hostile glare, the Knight-Lord turning around while folding his arms across his chest, "I assure you, Goblin, that I had no hand in the disappearance or presumed deaths of my ex-fiancée or her new lover."
  6. Kimiko: "You don’t get to gank First Legion."
  7. Bandwagon post... Suppose there isn't much to say. Photo was taken on my camera in a hotel room while staying in Ft Worth to take the 70-620 Microsoft Exam. Passed it thankfully... but right back into the fire I go - seems they want me to take the 70-236 (Exchange 2007) next. I don't upload many pictures because I haven't convinced myself to buy an actual camera. Or at least a card reader. I don't take pictures often as it is and... yeah...
  8. <p>So sleeeepy! ZZzzz... *trails off*</p>

    <p>Welcome to TNG <img src="<fileStore.core_Emoticons>/emoticons/smile.png" alt=":)" srcset="<fileStore.core_Emoticons>/emoticons/smile@2x.png 2x" width="20" height="20" /></p>

  9. <p>Yeah I am, I changed it back <.<</p>

  10. Nothing short of amazing I know I've said it a dozen times already, but I've very happy with how the piece turned out. The Black/White was definitely the right choice for this one.
  11. It has taken us so much just to hold The Deceiver back. We operate in shifts, constantly cycling our fellow Marauders to the lines and back to give everyone the chance to rest and recover... I am tremendously glad for our large numbers, for without them, we would have all died the first night we set foot within the Sunwell's chambers. Cessily tried to explain to me that if not for Prince Kael'thas' treachery, that we as a race, and myself as an example, would not be as strong as we are. The extent of her backwards logic boggles my mind. You do not go out creating problems, simply for others to have to muster together to correct! Yes, I am stronger than I ever was before. Yes, I am arguably stronger than I would have been if this whole disaster was never conceived. I, and Azeroth, would have much preferred the simplier existance... I for one, grow weary of the endless fighting. While the song of battle is soothing to my mind (for I feel a sensation of clarity upon the field unlike any other), I am reminded of my own fragility and understand that death is but a hand's breath away. I have felt the sting of a dagger in my back before, and I have the scar to prove it. Curious times are upon us. The Knighthood has taken to arms as many have laid down their shields. Yet, as I watch them scurry about in hopes and desire to make a name for themselves, I shake my head in disgust as I watch them return to Quel'thalas hanging limp upon the shoulders of their brethren. They are all so inexperienced... yet they will not listen to me anymore. We head to Northrend soon - I wonder if there will be anyone left to heal the wounded once we get there. If not these sorry fools, I pity the would-be fallen... if they cannot handle the horrors of Outland, Northrend will simply destroy them. A time will come that I know I will be unable to defend myself against. It comes for us all in the end; I am not too naive to deceive myself into thinking that it does not exist. It will come for me, for Rosalynd, for Cessily... for Xaraphyne, for Tassha... For Nymare...
  12. OOC: I had to write this post twice, and the second time feels sloppy and totally fails to capture the emotion I had in the first one. For whatever reason, I didn't write in Word this time and was relying on copy/paste as my protection in case the forum logged me out before I finished. Well, despite that I would swear a thousand times that I pressed Control-A and Control-C to capture it, when I went to press Control-V afterwards, I was greeted with some crap I copied before I had even started. I cried, I said a few bad words, I may have even punched my desk... oh well. ================================================================================================ The dark Naaru, M'uru, has been destroyed. After weeks of restless nights, plagued by the mournful song of the twisted, dying creature... there is silence again. No longer do we suffer the sting of his touch, and no more do we have to endure the weight he levied upon all of our shoulders. The reward for our efforts... a direct path to assault the Sunwell itself. Though, some of us wonder if this is simply little more than a path to certain death. The Sunwell was never 'destroyed', as many of the Quel and Sin'dorei alike believe. Instead, the ten-thousand years we had spent as a race, attuning our bodies to the emanations of the Arcane, blinded the majority of us all once it descended into the state of fel-corruption after Arthas' Scourge used it to ressurect Kel'thuzzad. While there were those among us who would never dare try, the difference in the details of the magics would have left it impossible for the remaining majority to have done so anyway. It was easier to tell the people that it was forever gone, than to tempt them with seeking out a way to sustain themselves from a tainted source. Kael'thas knew what the results would have been a long time ago. He worked a deal with Illidan while bargaining with the Burning Legion the entire time. While I suspect we owe our 'thanks' to he and the demon-hunter for their development of the vampiric adaptation we use now to sustain our addictions, the compliments to these misguided betrayers stop there. The stones we have in Silvermoon and in the Outlands, are 'gifts' from the Legion itself. I have long since decided that the fel-born are created through directly drawing upon demonic sources, and with the endeavors of myself and the Marauders so near the Sunwell, I suspect it has much to do with drawing so in excess. I believe that a part of my own lack of falling down this same path, is through the exertion that I and the Marauders subject ourselves to during our assaults. Never before in my life have I fought with as much ferocity, exerting every ounce of strength and power I and we can manage. As we come nearer and nearer to the Sunwell itself, there is not a soul around us who has not tried harder each and every step of the way. While I can feel my body becoming saturated with the fount's power, I feel that I have expended it just as quickly as it has come in. Tying back to my prior comments, Gluttony, they say... is one of the “Seven Deadly Sins.” I have seen the creation of new fel-born... and the fel-orcs are hardly different. In either case, fel-energy is absorbed into the candidate until the point of change. For example, the Orcs within Hellfire Citadel restrain their 'initiates', soaking them with power. Idleness, sitting there, waiting... and feeding. Sloth. In cases of the elves' fate, their desire, lust, and greed for power drives them to do it willingly. If given the chance, I suspect many would simply sit there at a source, feeding and draining until it is too late. Wrath, Greed, Lust, Envy, even Pride... I believe sum up myself, if not the entirety of the Sin'dorei as a race quite nicely. It is not so much more than a simple step to find the other two – and I am not surprised that these last ones can come together hand-in-hand. Is this the price for our transgressions? As a result of being so near the Sunwell, I have lost the blue glow to my eyes, and once again sustain a brilliant green. I can no longer ignore or resist the Sunwell's power, and I feel it seep into me the longer we spend in our attempts to reclaim Quel'danas. I had spoken to Nymare about my beliefs regarding the use of 'filters'... bloodstones, the fel-stones within the city... or any other method we commonly practice, all as a way to restrict the rate at which we expose ourselves. The filters are not counter-productive to our survival... but do make things inhibitive enough that we cannot gorge ourselves en-masse. Ten-thousand years of heavy discipline in only taking what we needed from the limited arcane sources to survive, seems to have carried over just enough to keep the ill-informed populace from wondering too much on topics that could get them killed, or worse. Kael'thas could not possibly control an entire populace of fel-born. Kil'jaeden's influence is too deep within them to have done so. He needed us to remain as we were, quietly deceived to do his bidding until some time or event came where it no longer mattered whose side we took. He anticipated being rewarded by Kil'jaeden... I am glad that bastard got what was coming to him. Events have been put into place that will only compound from here if not deterred. The death of M'uru was a victory indeed... but I find myself unable to feel the desire to celebrate. I have seen a greater horror, and I know this is going to be something far more serious than I could have ever imagined. I have looked into the face of death itself... and now, I know there is no turning back...
  13. <p>You can be taught!</p>

  14. <p>Oh wait... is this right?</p>