---
“… you actually read that?!”
Eleazar didn’t stifle a hearty chuckle at his riding companion’s hushed exclamation. “Of course, Miss Tuan. After hearin’ Brother Kristoff’s sermon on Fortitude and its necessity for practicing the Virtue of Tenacity, I thought it’d be a good idea to read the book he ref’renced so heavily to.”
There was a moment of silence on the she-rogue’s part. “So, what’d you think of The Stresses of Iron?”
Eleazar smiled, half-sheepishly and half sincerely amused. “Ain’t no s’prise that I found it a rath’r boring read. Did have some interestin’ tidbits about metals that may come in handy when it comes time to re-forge my kit.” The sheepishness faded into a contented expression of foresight. “I reckon that might come fairly soon, given our destination.”
Tuan’s expression also receded into thought. “Yeah …” She was quick to change the subject, ducking a growth of moss hanging low from the trees as the column of soldiers crossed the border between the unnaturally barren Deadwind Pass and the overgrown humidity of the Swamp of Sorrows. “Besides looking into books used in sermons, what other books do you read?”
Eleazar leaned forward slightly on his mount, and patted Abolition’s armoured head. The charger whinnied lightly, and then shook off Eleazar’s hand with a playful chuff. “Whatever looks interestin’ …” he finally replied, straightening himself. “But I have devel’ped a taste fer history in general. Knowing why a particular people are what they are really helps in unnerstandin’ them an’ their terms when it comes to devel’ping peaceful relations.”
“That makes a good bit of sense.” Tuan paused again. “Any favourites?”
The paladin chuckled. “Miss Tuan. I have little room in my heart and mind for favourites.”
“Didn't think so,” the she rogue smirked. “You don’t seem to be the type to. Any notables you’d recommend? Not a big fan of history myself, but—”
“Company! HALT!”
Saturday, April 16, 2011
Sunday, April 10, 2011
Of Light and Void, chapter 8
---
--present day--
Eleazar followed a step behind the regiment captain as they approached the small group of dignitaries that were to accompany the dispatch through the Dark Portal – a trio of Draenei emissaries, one a robed ambassador and the other two fully-armoured Exarchs, each with a pair of adjutants that were currently standing to attention at a respectful distance as their superiors engaged in small talk with a fourth individual: a tall, stately Night Elf Priest wearing the traditional diplomatic mantle of the Kaldorei. Eleazar quickly disguised his smile of pleasant surprise as the captain introduced him to the delegates.
The captain bowed curtly. “Your Excellencies, I present to you Ambassador-Paladin Eleazar Thomaius Abraham.”
The Draenic ambassador smiled lightly. “Ah, yes – the esteemed Eleazar of Light’s fame.” Eleazar smoothly curved his spine in reply, and the Draenei returned the gesture. “I do believe you have made yourself a bit of a name among my peers,” he continued with an appreciative look.
Eleazar righted himself and smiled as well. “<You pay me much too great a credit, Wordbearer,>” he replied in only minutely accented Draenic. He exchanged bows and similar greetings with the Exarchs, before turning back to the ambassador. “<I am surprised that you would speak of me so highly.>”
The Draenei’s glowing eyes became solemn, but his smile didn’t falter as he replied in Draenic as well. “<The Prophet is a benign and attentive leader, but it is still considered a most high honour for anyone to speak to and be spoken to by him.>” The ambassador inclined his head slightly. “<I must say, your Draenic is impressive.>”
“<My thanks, Wordbearer,>” Eleazar replied with a smile and another bow. “<The result of studiosity.>”
The Draenei nodded and, with another exchange of diplomatic phrases, turned back to his kinsmen. Eleazar stepped away respectfully, and then turned to the Night Elf with a far broader and jovial grin.
--present day--
Eleazar followed a step behind the regiment captain as they approached the small group of dignitaries that were to accompany the dispatch through the Dark Portal – a trio of Draenei emissaries, one a robed ambassador and the other two fully-armoured Exarchs, each with a pair of adjutants that were currently standing to attention at a respectful distance as their superiors engaged in small talk with a fourth individual: a tall, stately Night Elf Priest wearing the traditional diplomatic mantle of the Kaldorei. Eleazar quickly disguised his smile of pleasant surprise as the captain introduced him to the delegates.
The captain bowed curtly. “Your Excellencies, I present to you Ambassador-Paladin Eleazar Thomaius Abraham.”
The Draenic ambassador smiled lightly. “Ah, yes – the esteemed Eleazar of Light’s fame.” Eleazar smoothly curved his spine in reply, and the Draenei returned the gesture. “I do believe you have made yourself a bit of a name among my peers,” he continued with an appreciative look.
Eleazar righted himself and smiled as well. “<You pay me much too great a credit, Wordbearer,>” he replied in only minutely accented Draenic. He exchanged bows and similar greetings with the Exarchs, before turning back to the ambassador. “<I am surprised that you would speak of me so highly.>”
The Draenei’s glowing eyes became solemn, but his smile didn’t falter as he replied in Draenic as well. “<The Prophet is a benign and attentive leader, but it is still considered a most high honour for anyone to speak to and be spoken to by him.>” The ambassador inclined his head slightly. “<I must say, your Draenic is impressive.>”
“<My thanks, Wordbearer,>” Eleazar replied with a smile and another bow. “<The result of studiosity.>”
The Draenei nodded and, with another exchange of diplomatic phrases, turned back to his kinsmen. Eleazar stepped away respectfully, and then turned to the Night Elf with a far broader and jovial grin.
Saturday, April 2, 2011
Of Light and Void, chapter 7
---
--two months earlier--
She kept pacing restlessly around the topmost lookout of the keep’s central tower, one hand perpetually at the side of her head as she would alternatingly pinch the bridge of her nose or press her wrist against her temple in vain, repeated attempts to ease the pounding inside her skull. As much as she detested having only this tiny area to move about with any degree of freedom, she had long given up trying to coax the local commanders into giving her looser reins. She couldn’t blame them, really – the Keep of Nethergarde had been constructed for one very simple reason, and the jagged, tortured landscape surrounding it was a constant reminder why.
That being said, she still hated it.
“Why can’t they just let me leave whenever I’m done here?” she muttered to herself for the umpteenth time. “I swear, every time …”
Around and around, one circle after another, in never-ending loops of nothing but empty time ticking past. Light, she hated it. Especially when she would forget where she was for a split second and turn her head in any direction not resembling north.
Like now. She bit back an oath and quickly lowered her head another inch, careful not to look up as she once more crossed along the southern rim of the rampart. For a lopsided stack of crudely hewn monoliths tossed into a deformed crater the size of the Stormwind Park, that Portal certainly was a noisy piece of work. She mouthed a few choice invectives and continued her self-imposed circuit.
She glanced up and nodded curtly to the guardsman that had just ascended the flight of stairs below to replace the current tower watch ensconced in the small, fortified alcove above the rampart. He took little notice of her, as was the wont of most of the troops stationed in the Keep – only those few warriors that were directly attached to the Argent Dawn paid her much respect these days. She allowed herself a cold smirk while the two men’s backs were turned towards her as they took the opportunity to exchange small soldier’s talk. It wasn’t like there was anyone there that would bother reprimanding such insignificant breaks in discipline.
Her attention was suddenly seized by an odd movement in the corner of her eye. She looked up and squinted, trying her level best not to cringe as the churning headache intensified briefly. “What’s that?”
--two months earlier--
She kept pacing restlessly around the topmost lookout of the keep’s central tower, one hand perpetually at the side of her head as she would alternatingly pinch the bridge of her nose or press her wrist against her temple in vain, repeated attempts to ease the pounding inside her skull. As much as she detested having only this tiny area to move about with any degree of freedom, she had long given up trying to coax the local commanders into giving her looser reins. She couldn’t blame them, really – the Keep of Nethergarde had been constructed for one very simple reason, and the jagged, tortured landscape surrounding it was a constant reminder why.
That being said, she still hated it.
“Why can’t they just let me leave whenever I’m done here?” she muttered to herself for the umpteenth time. “I swear, every time …”
Around and around, one circle after another, in never-ending loops of nothing but empty time ticking past. Light, she hated it. Especially when she would forget where she was for a split second and turn her head in any direction not resembling north.
Like now. She bit back an oath and quickly lowered her head another inch, careful not to look up as she once more crossed along the southern rim of the rampart. For a lopsided stack of crudely hewn monoliths tossed into a deformed crater the size of the Stormwind Park, that Portal certainly was a noisy piece of work. She mouthed a few choice invectives and continued her self-imposed circuit.
She glanced up and nodded curtly to the guardsman that had just ascended the flight of stairs below to replace the current tower watch ensconced in the small, fortified alcove above the rampart. He took little notice of her, as was the wont of most of the troops stationed in the Keep – only those few warriors that were directly attached to the Argent Dawn paid her much respect these days. She allowed herself a cold smirk while the two men’s backs were turned towards her as they took the opportunity to exchange small soldier’s talk. It wasn’t like there was anyone there that would bother reprimanding such insignificant breaks in discipline.
Her attention was suddenly seized by an odd movement in the corner of her eye. She looked up and squinted, trying her level best not to cringe as the churning headache intensified briefly. “What’s that?”
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