Post by Archivist~Alabaster on Apr 21, 2006 9:51:44 GMT -5
The Haunted
~written by Larthorn , Society of Daedalus~
It's the same every time. I see myself on the battlefields of Silverpine crushed, broken, and bloody. I see around me my brothers and enemies fallen in some months old engagement. The acrutiments of war adorn the fields around us rusted and rotted with the passage of time. I should be dead, my body lies torn across the chest and stomach from a ghoul's deadly raking claws. I should be in the here after. I should be, but i'm not.
Slowly I watch myself rise unsteadily to my feet. The form of myself doesn't even notice the carnage around him, he steps over, through, and on the bodies around the dead foliage to make his way...To make his way to Lordearon. Then as I watch, other beings begin to rise around me. First a Tauren, then a Gnome. They all have that same eerie look. I hallow empty gaze that fills their eyes which have now lost all pigment and have been saturated by greys and whites. The walking corpses all seem bloated and puffy, only barely recognizable for what they once were. The bodies march on, mindless in their wanderings but their destination is not without purpose. The doors leading to the great throne room of Lordearon are torn off their hinges and six beasts a breast filter into the room and down side passages into the interior of the castle. I reach a set of large wrotiron doors and remain still as if waiting for something. We all do. I find myself noting that there should be a stench of decay in all this, but I smell nothing of the sort. The doors begin to part and there is a green glow filtering through slowly at first, but soon its luminescence over takes the whole of the gathered.
Then, as I always do at this point, I wake up in my bed. I find my breath returning to me and my pulse is still as strong as it should be. I look down and my flesh is the same rose color one would expect from the living. But this dream, it haunts me so Jericko.
Jericko lifted his gaze up from the burning embers to look at me sitting uneasily beside him. The fires colors dancing across my chiseled features playing with the shadows of my usually distinct face. "I don't understand why you do not share this dream with the confessor. Is that not what he is there for? To provide counsel and guidance in times of need for the Left Hand?"
I sighed deeply. "Yes, but I felt the nature of the story was best kept away from the particular ilk of my order. The suspicious lot they are, Brilan would read into it something I can not even wrap my mind around at this time." I looked down towards the floor and began to count the strands of fur on my rug before continuing. "It troubles me deeply that..Well that it feels so familiar. Like I have been there and done those things. Yet I can not remember anything before the Society had found me. Only that Elius was there to pick my up and give me purpose."
"Well lad, maybe you should face your demons. Speak with the keeper of the Stormwind library and see what happened in Silverpine since your adult life. We know now that it belongs to the Forsaken, but why? What actually occurred in those now tainted lands?" A gruff hand was placed on my shoulder. "Sorry lad, I can't be of more help. We all have or demons, and we struggle constantly to keep them at bay. Perhaps yours can only be met out there in the fields of that hazy battle."
I rose from my seat placing my hands behind my head and running them through my loosed hair. Letting the unfettered mat of auburn lay easily across my knuckles. "I suppose I'll make a trip then, to the keep and see what they have to say. It couldn't hurt could it?"
Jericko rose to meet me at about as close to eye level as a dwarf could manage standing up. "I shouldn't see why not lad. Just tell the others your going to make the round of regular meetings with your contacts and such. I doubt anyone suspects anything is a miss, but in your line of work I would wager it is better to be safe than sorry." A low chuckle escaped his lips and I couldn't help but smile at that.
--------------------------
The next day I left Brilan with a set of instructions for the tutoring of the many fresh recruits and set off to Stormwind under the pretense it was time to make the round of bribes to the appropriate people. He accepted the story with out a second thought, seeing how it was not wholly unusual. We had to receive information from some where and usually those people sought compensation. So one morning in early spring I pulled my hair back into its clasp, sheathed my daggers at my hips and set out for Stormwind.
The trip was fairly uneventful, and I arrived in Stormwind a week later ahead of schedule. I walked through the valley of heros marveling, as I always did, at the magnificent statues. I nodded towards Marcus Jonathan as I passed him, knowing he would never openly return the gesture. Before I headed to the keep I made sure to stop at SI:7 to see how the boys had been doing and to see if they would rent me a room. I always felt much safer in this den of thieves than in a local Inn.
My arrangements made it was time to visit the past and maybe meet a few of my ghosts. I entered the room that was crammed full of shelf after shelf, which were heavily laden with book after book. It made me think of what the Halls of Invictus would have looked like in Xavier's time. A young lad passed me as I wondered in, he had the scholarly robes on so I stopped him and asked him to point me int he direction of the text regarding the betrayal and the great war. I could only surmise that was the time of my dreams since there hasn't been any major conflicts since Arthus' betrayal and the great war that followed.
After retrieving the tomes from the shelves I rested at a sturdy oaken table with a bit of candle light to guide me on my journeys. I read of epic battles and of unscrupulous deeds. I read of unearthly heros and dastardly Villains. I read of things and not a one of them rang with any ounce of memory until I hit a certain passage about the will of the Forsaken.
...And low, his hold was broken. The once maiden of the wood called unto the lost. Her melody guiding them to her. They stood before the gates of the abyss, and pass them they did, to the new beginnings...
I was unsure of how this applied to me directly but the 'once maiden of the wood' was definitely Sylvannus and the rest of the passage must have spoken of the scourge who were able to resist Arthus' will. This encapsulated my dream neatly, but why would I be dreaming of such a thing. I was told I never fought in the war. I had to have my answers. My concentration was momentarily interrupted by a gentle giggle though before I could think further on the subject before me.
With out turning my head I addressed the giggle, "The confessor will not be pleased that you left your duties. Why are you here?"
I heard a humpf then the familiar voice of Senta, "How did you know it was me? How do you always know?" she asked incredulously.
"You favor your right leg as you walk and shuffle a bit with your left, even when your trying to be sneaky." I said trying to tease her a bit, "Plus you still wear that awful perfume from Westfall, and I think your the only one who still does."
Her frown was almost audible as she changed the subject to veer away from her ridicule, "Brilan knows where I am, the Sentinels asked for help against the Warsong Clan and he sent me." an ounce of confidence returned to her voice.
"That doesn't explain why your here." I said not taking my eyes from the book I was now only thumbing through absent mindedly.
"Well I didn't feel like walking to Ashenvale, so Imraine said she would talk to the mages at the Tower and send me there." I couldn't be sure but I thought I heard her voice waiver slightly.
"So why didn't you talk to the Dwarves, surely Brilan knows some one in the Mystic quarter there?"
"Bah! I was nervous and I was hoping you could encourage me!" She blurted out swiftly. Again I could almost feel the blush coloring her cheeks from behind me.
I turned towards her then addressed her. "You don't need any encouragement from me Senta, you have proven yourself to the Society on numerous occasions, you are skilled and deadly in your right. Brilan's decision to send you over the others was a good one. You'll do us all proud."
It shouldn't have been possible but her reds went a few shades into magenta and she nervously fiddled her thumbs. "Thanks you Chief."
"Think nothing of it Agent." I said, trying to distance myself with the official rank. "Now you better go catch up with Imraine, i'm not sure that you taking the extra time to get out here is going to help the sentinels much."
With that she nodded curtly as I turned my head back to the books. I heard the unmistakable footsteps heading away from me as I continued my reading.
...It is said the spark that touches some, touches life and can not be undone...
-----------------------
I started to make my way back to my room after a few more hours of semi fruitful research. I found that there were several major conflicts in and around Silverpine. None larger however, then the attack on Dalaraan and the surrounding country side. The powerful mages of that city tried valiantly to stave off the advance of the Scourge but in the face of Arthas' dementia and raw power they could do nothing. Of course the Alterac Mountains were not Silverpine Forest, but Arthas would have surrounded the city before laying into the town to stop all supplies from reaching them through conventional means. It just so happens that the Silverpine wood stops on the old borders of Dalaraan.
I reached SI:7 and stopped momentarily to see what looked like a crow, with the most brilliantly black feathers, perched high above on a nearby building. The birds eyes of emerald pierced me with a heavy gaze. I couldn't look away until after, what seemed and eternity, he fluttered off. I slumped down on the bed with some of the text copied and scribed before me. Grabbing a piece of sungrass I bit off the end and placed it between my lips. With a sigh I tried to think of another option other than the only one left to me. In the end though, I knew where my next stop was.
The next morning I stopped by Mathias Shaw's room to shake his hand and say good bye. Telling him I was off further south to check with some agents in the cartel. Then I hoped on the tram and headed North, away from the cartel.
~written by Larthorn , Society of Daedalus~
It's the same every time. I see myself on the battlefields of Silverpine crushed, broken, and bloody. I see around me my brothers and enemies fallen in some months old engagement. The acrutiments of war adorn the fields around us rusted and rotted with the passage of time. I should be dead, my body lies torn across the chest and stomach from a ghoul's deadly raking claws. I should be in the here after. I should be, but i'm not.
Slowly I watch myself rise unsteadily to my feet. The form of myself doesn't even notice the carnage around him, he steps over, through, and on the bodies around the dead foliage to make his way...To make his way to Lordearon. Then as I watch, other beings begin to rise around me. First a Tauren, then a Gnome. They all have that same eerie look. I hallow empty gaze that fills their eyes which have now lost all pigment and have been saturated by greys and whites. The walking corpses all seem bloated and puffy, only barely recognizable for what they once were. The bodies march on, mindless in their wanderings but their destination is not without purpose. The doors leading to the great throne room of Lordearon are torn off their hinges and six beasts a breast filter into the room and down side passages into the interior of the castle. I reach a set of large wrotiron doors and remain still as if waiting for something. We all do. I find myself noting that there should be a stench of decay in all this, but I smell nothing of the sort. The doors begin to part and there is a green glow filtering through slowly at first, but soon its luminescence over takes the whole of the gathered.
Then, as I always do at this point, I wake up in my bed. I find my breath returning to me and my pulse is still as strong as it should be. I look down and my flesh is the same rose color one would expect from the living. But this dream, it haunts me so Jericko.
Jericko lifted his gaze up from the burning embers to look at me sitting uneasily beside him. The fires colors dancing across my chiseled features playing with the shadows of my usually distinct face. "I don't understand why you do not share this dream with the confessor. Is that not what he is there for? To provide counsel and guidance in times of need for the Left Hand?"
I sighed deeply. "Yes, but I felt the nature of the story was best kept away from the particular ilk of my order. The suspicious lot they are, Brilan would read into it something I can not even wrap my mind around at this time." I looked down towards the floor and began to count the strands of fur on my rug before continuing. "It troubles me deeply that..Well that it feels so familiar. Like I have been there and done those things. Yet I can not remember anything before the Society had found me. Only that Elius was there to pick my up and give me purpose."
"Well lad, maybe you should face your demons. Speak with the keeper of the Stormwind library and see what happened in Silverpine since your adult life. We know now that it belongs to the Forsaken, but why? What actually occurred in those now tainted lands?" A gruff hand was placed on my shoulder. "Sorry lad, I can't be of more help. We all have or demons, and we struggle constantly to keep them at bay. Perhaps yours can only be met out there in the fields of that hazy battle."
I rose from my seat placing my hands behind my head and running them through my loosed hair. Letting the unfettered mat of auburn lay easily across my knuckles. "I suppose I'll make a trip then, to the keep and see what they have to say. It couldn't hurt could it?"
Jericko rose to meet me at about as close to eye level as a dwarf could manage standing up. "I shouldn't see why not lad. Just tell the others your going to make the round of regular meetings with your contacts and such. I doubt anyone suspects anything is a miss, but in your line of work I would wager it is better to be safe than sorry." A low chuckle escaped his lips and I couldn't help but smile at that.
--------------------------
The next day I left Brilan with a set of instructions for the tutoring of the many fresh recruits and set off to Stormwind under the pretense it was time to make the round of bribes to the appropriate people. He accepted the story with out a second thought, seeing how it was not wholly unusual. We had to receive information from some where and usually those people sought compensation. So one morning in early spring I pulled my hair back into its clasp, sheathed my daggers at my hips and set out for Stormwind.
The trip was fairly uneventful, and I arrived in Stormwind a week later ahead of schedule. I walked through the valley of heros marveling, as I always did, at the magnificent statues. I nodded towards Marcus Jonathan as I passed him, knowing he would never openly return the gesture. Before I headed to the keep I made sure to stop at SI:7 to see how the boys had been doing and to see if they would rent me a room. I always felt much safer in this den of thieves than in a local Inn.
My arrangements made it was time to visit the past and maybe meet a few of my ghosts. I entered the room that was crammed full of shelf after shelf, which were heavily laden with book after book. It made me think of what the Halls of Invictus would have looked like in Xavier's time. A young lad passed me as I wondered in, he had the scholarly robes on so I stopped him and asked him to point me int he direction of the text regarding the betrayal and the great war. I could only surmise that was the time of my dreams since there hasn't been any major conflicts since Arthus' betrayal and the great war that followed.
After retrieving the tomes from the shelves I rested at a sturdy oaken table with a bit of candle light to guide me on my journeys. I read of epic battles and of unscrupulous deeds. I read of unearthly heros and dastardly Villains. I read of things and not a one of them rang with any ounce of memory until I hit a certain passage about the will of the Forsaken.
...And low, his hold was broken. The once maiden of the wood called unto the lost. Her melody guiding them to her. They stood before the gates of the abyss, and pass them they did, to the new beginnings...
I was unsure of how this applied to me directly but the 'once maiden of the wood' was definitely Sylvannus and the rest of the passage must have spoken of the scourge who were able to resist Arthus' will. This encapsulated my dream neatly, but why would I be dreaming of such a thing. I was told I never fought in the war. I had to have my answers. My concentration was momentarily interrupted by a gentle giggle though before I could think further on the subject before me.
With out turning my head I addressed the giggle, "The confessor will not be pleased that you left your duties. Why are you here?"
I heard a humpf then the familiar voice of Senta, "How did you know it was me? How do you always know?" she asked incredulously.
"You favor your right leg as you walk and shuffle a bit with your left, even when your trying to be sneaky." I said trying to tease her a bit, "Plus you still wear that awful perfume from Westfall, and I think your the only one who still does."
Her frown was almost audible as she changed the subject to veer away from her ridicule, "Brilan knows where I am, the Sentinels asked for help against the Warsong Clan and he sent me." an ounce of confidence returned to her voice.
"That doesn't explain why your here." I said not taking my eyes from the book I was now only thumbing through absent mindedly.
"Well I didn't feel like walking to Ashenvale, so Imraine said she would talk to the mages at the Tower and send me there." I couldn't be sure but I thought I heard her voice waiver slightly.
"So why didn't you talk to the Dwarves, surely Brilan knows some one in the Mystic quarter there?"
"Bah! I was nervous and I was hoping you could encourage me!" She blurted out swiftly. Again I could almost feel the blush coloring her cheeks from behind me.
I turned towards her then addressed her. "You don't need any encouragement from me Senta, you have proven yourself to the Society on numerous occasions, you are skilled and deadly in your right. Brilan's decision to send you over the others was a good one. You'll do us all proud."
It shouldn't have been possible but her reds went a few shades into magenta and she nervously fiddled her thumbs. "Thanks you Chief."
"Think nothing of it Agent." I said, trying to distance myself with the official rank. "Now you better go catch up with Imraine, i'm not sure that you taking the extra time to get out here is going to help the sentinels much."
With that she nodded curtly as I turned my head back to the books. I heard the unmistakable footsteps heading away from me as I continued my reading.
...It is said the spark that touches some, touches life and can not be undone...
-----------------------
I started to make my way back to my room after a few more hours of semi fruitful research. I found that there were several major conflicts in and around Silverpine. None larger however, then the attack on Dalaraan and the surrounding country side. The powerful mages of that city tried valiantly to stave off the advance of the Scourge but in the face of Arthas' dementia and raw power they could do nothing. Of course the Alterac Mountains were not Silverpine Forest, but Arthas would have surrounded the city before laying into the town to stop all supplies from reaching them through conventional means. It just so happens that the Silverpine wood stops on the old borders of Dalaraan.
I reached SI:7 and stopped momentarily to see what looked like a crow, with the most brilliantly black feathers, perched high above on a nearby building. The birds eyes of emerald pierced me with a heavy gaze. I couldn't look away until after, what seemed and eternity, he fluttered off. I slumped down on the bed with some of the text copied and scribed before me. Grabbing a piece of sungrass I bit off the end and placed it between my lips. With a sigh I tried to think of another option other than the only one left to me. In the end though, I knew where my next stop was.
The next morning I stopped by Mathias Shaw's room to shake his hand and say good bye. Telling him I was off further south to check with some agents in the cartel. Then I hoped on the tram and headed North, away from the cartel.