---
“… I’m not trying to be delinquent about this! All I’m saying is, I don’t see the point!”
“Ma’am, if you would just calm down for a moment …”
“It’s got four legs, a head, a tail, and a back for me to sit on. What more do you expect from a horse??”
“With all due respect, ma’am—” The statement was marred only slightly by the noticeably annoyed furrow in the quartermaster’s forehead. “—there are customs to be observed here.”
She facepalmed with supremely fabricated amazement. “Oh, right. I forgot. Can’t have a simple beast of burden looking like it just got dragged through the Fargodeep prancing around in front of our new best friends. Right. It’s all about appearances, isn’t it.”
He glared back at her, his patience evaporating. “While I certainly would expect that particular attitude from your ilk—”
“Please, if I may interject.”
Both combatants turned their heads at the deep, melodious baritone. Theluin was stood nearby, bedecked in his diplomatic robes, a calm, gentle smile on his face. He reached out a hand lightly, and the agitated she-rogue immediately broke away from the imminent confrontation and stomped over to him.
“I’m telling you, Thel, this is ridiculous,” she growled. “They’re being ridiculous.”
“How long have you had your little mare by now, my friend?”
She shot him a look. “A year and a half.”
“And how far have you travelled in that time?”
Her eyes took on a distinctly resigned expression. “Back and forth across both continents, at least three times each.”
He smiled reassuringly. “About time for the steadfast girl to have a vacation, wouldn’t you think?”
She groaned and rolled her eyes heavenward.
He put a light but firm hand on her shoulder. “You know this is the best solution for her. Our destination is an open war zone, and it is only prudent that our steeds are accustomed to such. She is a travelling mount, not a warhorse.”
She facepalmed in defeat. “Fine. Fine! Light.” She looked back up at him, her previous anger completely dispelled. “You know, this is why I hate arguing with you. Three lines in and I can’t even remember what I was being so worked up about in the first place.” She turned on her heel and addressed the quartermaster again, who was staring in profound perplexity at the tremendously mismatched pair. “Can I at least choose?”
Theluin leaned in minutely. “I am sure the provisioners will know what they are doing.”
She threw her hands in the air. “Argh!! You win! But if I have to spend more than an hour breaking it in, I’m holding you exclusively responsible.” She rounded on the quartermaster one last time. “Make sure she always gets a red apple with her morning oats.” Then she stomped off, muttering under her breath about saddles and bridles.
Theluin turned to the baffled man with an apologetic smile. “She did not mean anything personally, Quartermaster.”
He composed himself. “She … has a temperament, Elder.”
The ancient Kaldorei chuckled softly. “But her heart is in the right place. Now, about the translator we will be bringing along …”
---
Originally written by Tuan Taureo
Saturday, February 26, 2011
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
Of Light and Void, chapter 1
---
I don’t want to go through the Dark Portal.
Osborne had to jump aside to avoid being bowled over by her as she came unceremoniously stomping out of the gate leading to the SI:7 headquarters. She didn’t even grace him with a cursory glance, continuing straight across the small square towards the exit that led into the labyrinth of channels crisscrossing Stormwind.
I don’t want to go through the Dark Portal.
“I heard a story about this golden fish—“
“You’re making that up.”
“— and if you caught it, you would get—“
The two boys were forcibly interrupted by the towering rogue as she stormed past right between them, heading up the bridge. “Hey!” “Whoa!”
The first one was about to shout something foul at the uninvited party crasher, but was held back by his friend. They were left standing on the base of the bridge, staring half crossly, half awkwardly after the tall, athletic woman disappearing on the other side.
I don’t want to go through the Dark Portal.
The Trade District was as utterly choked with peddlers and bantering city dwellers as it always were during high noon, but she weaved with great expertise through the milling throng, instinctively snagging a shiny red apple from a fruit stand while the merchant was busy receiving payment for some exotic jungle delicacy. Admittedly, the citizenry were giving her a somewhat wider berth than they usually would have – which she indubitably would’ve noticed had she bothered to pay more attention to her surroundings. The fact that her chiselled face was set in an only minutely restrained expression of frustration and barely contained rage had most likely a fair bit to do with it. She ploughed through the central square with little thought, veering sharply into the south-western exit.
I don’t want to go through the Dark Portal.
Clearing the next channel bridge by the absolute minimum amount of strides, she dove into the entrance to the Mage Quarter, immediately feeling the distant needles and pinpricks in the back of her head from the numerous arcane researches going on in the elegantly carved buildings arrayed around her. Right now, however, she couldn’t care any less about the discomfort.
I don’t want to go through the Dark Portal.
She made a very mindful point of not looking up at the tower standing proudly in the middle of the central garden. She didn’t need to; the faint pressure behind her forehead informed her in no uncertain terms of the etheric constructs being housed within its walls at the end of the seemingly unsupported stone arch leading up to the ridiculously elevated, crested entrance. Instead, she walked up the lower stairs to her left and entered the Blue Recluse.
I don’t want to go through the Dark Portal.
The tavern was virtually deserted and didn’t seem to have had any visitors that day; all the chairs stood neatly around their tables, the tavernkeep busily polishing mugs and tankards that had nary a spot of dust on them. The man looked up as the she-rogue pulled out a chair from one of the tables and threw herself into it with little to no gracefulness. With practiced ease, he made his way over to her with a jovial smile.
“Hello there – welcome to the Blue Recluse. Care for a refreshment, madam?”
She glanced over at him and, after a moment’s hesitation, nodded curtly. “Whatever you would recommend for getting your mind off something exceedingly infuriating.”
The tavernkeep smiled understandingly and vanished downstairs to the cellar. He returned a few minutes later with an antiquated bottle and poured a medium-sized glass nearly full with the rich, red wine, smoothly placing the glass in front of her before retreating once more to the counter.
She took a deep draught of the wine, put the glass down and leaned her head back with an exhausted sigh.
“… I don’t want to go through the Dark Portal.”
“I had a feeling this would be revolving around that particular form of subject.”
I don’t want to go through the Dark Portal.
Osborne had to jump aside to avoid being bowled over by her as she came unceremoniously stomping out of the gate leading to the SI:7 headquarters. She didn’t even grace him with a cursory glance, continuing straight across the small square towards the exit that led into the labyrinth of channels crisscrossing Stormwind.
I don’t want to go through the Dark Portal.
“I heard a story about this golden fish—“
“You’re making that up.”
“— and if you caught it, you would get—“
The two boys were forcibly interrupted by the towering rogue as she stormed past right between them, heading up the bridge. “Hey!” “Whoa!”
The first one was about to shout something foul at the uninvited party crasher, but was held back by his friend. They were left standing on the base of the bridge, staring half crossly, half awkwardly after the tall, athletic woman disappearing on the other side.
I don’t want to go through the Dark Portal.
The Trade District was as utterly choked with peddlers and bantering city dwellers as it always were during high noon, but she weaved with great expertise through the milling throng, instinctively snagging a shiny red apple from a fruit stand while the merchant was busy receiving payment for some exotic jungle delicacy. Admittedly, the citizenry were giving her a somewhat wider berth than they usually would have – which she indubitably would’ve noticed had she bothered to pay more attention to her surroundings. The fact that her chiselled face was set in an only minutely restrained expression of frustration and barely contained rage had most likely a fair bit to do with it. She ploughed through the central square with little thought, veering sharply into the south-western exit.
I don’t want to go through the Dark Portal.
Clearing the next channel bridge by the absolute minimum amount of strides, she dove into the entrance to the Mage Quarter, immediately feeling the distant needles and pinpricks in the back of her head from the numerous arcane researches going on in the elegantly carved buildings arrayed around her. Right now, however, she couldn’t care any less about the discomfort.
I don’t want to go through the Dark Portal.
She made a very mindful point of not looking up at the tower standing proudly in the middle of the central garden. She didn’t need to; the faint pressure behind her forehead informed her in no uncertain terms of the etheric constructs being housed within its walls at the end of the seemingly unsupported stone arch leading up to the ridiculously elevated, crested entrance. Instead, she walked up the lower stairs to her left and entered the Blue Recluse.
I don’t want to go through the Dark Portal.
The tavern was virtually deserted and didn’t seem to have had any visitors that day; all the chairs stood neatly around their tables, the tavernkeep busily polishing mugs and tankards that had nary a spot of dust on them. The man looked up as the she-rogue pulled out a chair from one of the tables and threw herself into it with little to no gracefulness. With practiced ease, he made his way over to her with a jovial smile.
“Hello there – welcome to the Blue Recluse. Care for a refreshment, madam?”
She glanced over at him and, after a moment’s hesitation, nodded curtly. “Whatever you would recommend for getting your mind off something exceedingly infuriating.”
The tavernkeep smiled understandingly and vanished downstairs to the cellar. He returned a few minutes later with an antiquated bottle and poured a medium-sized glass nearly full with the rich, red wine, smoothly placing the glass in front of her before retreating once more to the counter.
She took a deep draught of the wine, put the glass down and leaned her head back with an exhausted sigh.
“… I don’t want to go through the Dark Portal.”
“I had a feeling this would be revolving around that particular form of subject.”
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)