|
Post by Callahan on Jul 11, 2009 17:22:20 GMT -5
Thread starts here: Sober MeetingsHis feet hurt. Of course, that was to be expected, and he was used to it. His legs ached, but he had been marchine all day now, with only a few rests, but he knew he wasn't alone in that, as his men must have felt the same, and so he ignored that too. His head, well. He'd been zapped, smashed and cut in the last day, and on top of that he'd met a beautiful woman who he recognised but had never met before, who had seemed to have more emotions towards him than he could identify. In fact he couldn't identify a single consistent one, but maybe it was just his mind. She was certainly pushy and strong willed. Usually he didn't do what anyone told him to, but for her there seemed to be something inside him telling him to just do as she said. He wasn't sure if it was that he felt she wouldn't cause him any harm, or whether she would do something if he did, but he also felt he didn't need to find out. Elwynn forest was nearly behind them, the gates of Stormwind beckoning them eagerly into its walls. He glanced back, hardly able to see from his helmet, but knowing his men were eager to get finished and drunk. The women were still with them. They couldn't leave them in Goldshire. Not until they'd refortified and manned the defenses. They'd be staying somewhere in the city walls. Where, he had no idea, but they were still with them. At least they'd not had any trouble marching back. The biggest problem they'd came across was a deer jumping into the road before them. Other than that, they were pretty safe going, some men even began singing old school songs to raise the mood a little, which continued for a while, not that he minded at all. Marching finally onto hard stone, his arms tired and stiff from the woman's body resting in them, seemingly asleep the entire day, understandably, they made their way across the bridge and along the Valley of Heroes. Stone statues on either side of them stood as memorials of the great heroes of the Alliance. Their unmoving, hard gazes followed the soldiers as they marched in, a few men on duty saluting as they passed, and he returned the motion. They seemed to recognise him as he passed, even in darkness. Not difficult, as he was pretty much easily identified in his expensive armour and massive shield, great size and long sword. Marching around the walls they entered into the cobbled streets, where he considered placing the woman down, before deciding he pretty much didn't care what the civilians thought. But if that were true, wouldn't he have his helmet off? He didn't have time to think. They lined the streets either line, surprisingly many for this time of night, the crowd growing as the realisation among them spread. They mainly cheered as they returned. Word had spread quickly of the Orc menace. Most everyone in the city would have known about them, and that he had left despite the War Council's wishes. A rebel, maybe, but a hero to them. How long that would last would depend on the men he brought back. As the back of their line came into sight he could already feel the disappointment among the cheers. The crying woman in between the shoulders of the two grinning spectators. His job was never made easier by these civilians. Dead soldiers was one thing. The extended influence of their deaths was something totally different, and yet at the same time similar, and overall worse in every way. He tried to maintain his pace, weaving through the trade hub, past merchants offering discount prices and bartering individuals, and into the Old Town where the military headquarters were. Stopping his men outside the HQ, he paused before speaking. "Each of you fought well today men. You're relieved for the night. Go, enjoy yourself in whatever ways you usually do. And if your lady friends are willing, take them too. Ladies, if you're joining the soldiers please return here tomorrow and inform them of who you are." he sighed at the unconscious woman in his arms, the street now empty as soldiers and women left arm in arm, he considered taking her inside with him, deciding instead it would be best if she stayed somewhere safe. His home was round the corner, as the Grand Marshal's could probably be expected to be, so he moved there, his shoulder with the cut hurting a lot more than it had earlier. He opened his door, the key hidden, and entered, carefully laying her down on his bed as he left to talk with the military leaders. He knew they'd be expecting him.
|
|
|
Post by Narisha on Jul 11, 2009 18:48:52 GMT -5
She stayed still and silent as he carried her. Thankful to not have to walk as the stench of burning bodies invaded her mind, and later, as the acrid smell faded, she remained still, an arm curled around his neck. She could tell as he slowly moved along, the tired soldiers and women behind him that he was worn down and she didn't want to distract him.
The journey had been annoyingly long, and somewhere along the way she did fall asleep, cheek pressed against the cool metal of his armor. She awoke as they made their way into Stormwind, the sounds of the cheers dragging her from her sleep and she tightened the arm around his neck a little. The sadness he felt though was nearly tangible and she didn't understand it at all. The sobs did not go unnoticed by her, and she was sure there would be an outcry from some of the women, wondering why their loved ones had to lose their lives for a group of women comprised of whores and warlocks. But even she knew that in the end, the greater reward that came from their loss, the removal of a band of raiding Orcs, would save them further heartbreak and someday they would realize it.
His speech was hardly rousing. The speech of a man tired with life and who knew his men were tired of it as well. Saying to them go and enjoy what you can; find solace where you can and take love in whatever form you can find it. It broke her heart. She kept her eyes closed as he carried her, wherever he was going... She didn't want to look and risk him finding out she was awake. A key clicked into a lock as the cathedral bells sounded the hour. 5 in the morning... the sun would be rising soon.
He laid her on a bed, which rather surprised her, and she snuggled into the blankets with a sigh trying to decide if she should let him know she was awake. He moved away and back out of the room, his armor clinking. The front door closed and she made her decision. Regardless of where he was going, it was 5. If she gave him till noon to do whatever all he needed to do she could get to her rooms and back with some clothing and start seeing what shape this place was in. Then she would go get him and make him rest. The man definitely needed it.
Rolling off the bed with a small groan, her body still tired and sore, she took a look around the room. Her eyes widened in surprise. His room... She could tell just from the way things were laid out. A bit messy, pieces of armor laying about... and dirty. She shook her head pretty sure if this was the room he slept in that it was probably the cleanest in the house. Things were not boding well.
Nari took a step out the door and nearly ran back in. It was awful. Dust, dirt, soot... cobwebs... and what was that..
"OH MY GOD..."
A sheep suddenly appeared in the hallway as she polymorphed a spider the size of a rat into something harmless. This was disgusting. How could he live like this..
"Oh well, thinking about it I suppose he just lives down at the pub..." She muttered to herself.
Nari wasn't even going to risk looking in the kitchens. There was a simple solution and as Grand Marshall she knew he could afford it. She moved to lift her skirts and step over a pile of god only knows what when she realized she had no skirts... Blushing she quickly hurried to the door. First things first, to go get a dress. Once she had bathed and dressed and felt human again she could tackle the hassle of hiring help.
|
|
|
Post by Callahan on Jul 11, 2009 19:49:55 GMT -5
The red carpets hardly matched his mood. Red signified passion, energy and aggression. He felt tired, bored, stoic and too damn sober for this time of morning. He leant on the heavy wood door at the end of the hallway, resting his head against it with a thump, hardly wanting to bother entering. Finally, with a fair bit of efford, he pounded his fists against the oak, pressing and forcing himself into the room, heads turning wearily to face him, all of them half surprised, but that surprise soon turning to an expression he could read all too well. "Grand Marshal Mortedorthem, you outrageous, arrogant fool." "You bloodthirsty warmongerer, how can you justify a march to Redridge for whores at a time like this?"He held his hands up, as if to defend himself. "Gentlemen, please, don't embarass me with titles and compliments. I was more than happy to take the job of saving our damn civilians. Didn't want any of you to have to get up and use a sword now, do I?" His voice, starting light-hearted and cheerful, turned angry and accusatory around halfway through.
He peered round, not expecting many of them to be fully awake. A dozen men here. Dwarves and gnomes along the table to his side, Night Elves still not here. He growled, storming towards his seat, the Dwarves now awake finally adding their own chiding remarks. "We've bin here fer hours now, 'yer Highness' and mah only impressions of our so called 'Strategic leader' is a human numpty who runs smaller errands." He rounded on the dwarf, shooting an angry glare from beneath his helmet, the bearded man staring him right back. "If you will, master dwarf, I doubt there's been much problems on your behalf. There's a tavern down the road with plenty of ale. Though I'm guessing this isn't news to you, is it?" The dwarf exhibited a 'pah' before slumping back into his chair, hardly amused at the retort Val offered. He slipped off his helmemt for the first time that day, depositing it roughly on his desk and slipping into the chair with an exasperated sigh.
"While you were gone, the Night Elves sent a message." "And..?" "They'll be here in the next two days." He rolled his head back, glaring at the ceiling as though it was the source of his angst. "Anything else of importance that I should be aware of?" "No, nothing we can do until the Night Elves arrive." "So what you're telling me is that's the only news we've had? OH! If only I'd been here to use that key piece of information." He glared again, more out of tiredness now than anything else. The other officer lowered his gaze. Val pounded his desk, causing the helmet to shake a little in place, before standing again, irritated that he'd sat down for nothing, moving over to the map of the Eastern Kingdoms.
"Actually, if I can voice my opinion, there are a few matters to attend to that can be dealt with in the absence of the Night Elves." The Gnome beside the dwarf was the one to speak, though Val didn't even turn, or acknowledge the voice, too busy considering the map. "What are these matters, Ambassador Whizzficket?" One of the humans jumped in, as Val's attention grew less and less obvious. The Gnome looked quickly from the man to Val, and back, a little confused, before continuing. "Well, the Gnomish Engineering Corps need more funding. Our army is very vehicular-based so we also need more parts, meaning one of two things. Either we have to retake Gnomeregan, or we need to find alternative sources of the metals."
"Gnomeregan..." Val started, drawing attention back to himself. "Is lost, and it would take a massive army to take the place back. Our losses could end up being enormous, and we have other things to consider..." He paused for a moment, his mind drifting back to that girl. She and her warlock friends had been handling the Orcs pretty well, even outnumbered. He considered his new option. The average Alliance soldier is just that. Average. Surely there were some truly gifted members in the nation that could rise to the occasion. He turned, facing the upset looking Gnome. "However..." The Gnome looked up, suddenly interested. "However?" He asked, looking interested. Moreso than the other members of the group. Even the dwarf was leaning a little. "We'll put out a notice. Get the strongest members of the Alliance to group up. Strongest warriors, bravest paladins, our most versed mages. In teams, they may be more fitted to overcoming the places our armies can't reach." There was a nod of agreement around the room, and he turned to one of the silent Human scribes in the corner. "You there, go put out the notices to all corners of the Alliance. Heroes wanted."
He certainly wasn't feeling as tired now. One problem down. Now the underfunded Engineering Corps. "As for your Corps, as soon as they start inventing things we can use, they'll get their money. Bring me interesting designs. I don't need robo-rocket cars. I want floating airships and artillery. Do you think your engineers are up for that?" The Gnome paused, almost shocked. "You don't need robo... I mean... Very well, I'll get the word to my Engineer brothers and get them working on such things. But the tools..." He began, about to return to the subject of Gnomeregan. "Tools, equipment and data can be gathered by the heroes travelling into the place. Just have them informed of what you want." He moved away from the wall, pacing a little, before stopping. No one else seemed to want to voice anything. "Well, if that is all the business we can conduct without the Night Elves I..." "Sir, the Night Elf emissaries have arrived."
Val rounded on the man, hardly wanting to believe it. Yet there they were walking through the doors behind the speaker. "We met a mage on our way here." They explained, taking seats opposite the Dwarf and Gnome. "Of course you did." He groaned. He wanted to go to bed, not discuss pointless tactics.
|
|
|
Post by Narisha on Jul 11, 2009 21:04:10 GMT -5
Clean and dressed... Finally.
Armed with a fair bit of her personal funds, just in case she had to pay a days wages on her own while she argued the need for him to have help at the house, Nari set off towards the orphanage in the cathedral district first. With any luck she'd be able to hire two older children, teens preferably, to help in general around the house. Naturally there would be room and board, and of course pay. Then if she was extremely lucky they would have one or two older teenage children who were looking for work. They needed a cook and a something of a manservant-butler type to help keep everything organized. Nari herself could manage it all, if she could find the right people to hire.
She stepped into the orphanage and instantly had to dodge two children playing tag. A smile crossed her face. The children always reminded her of the kittens she had grown up with. The matron, a kindly woman who instantly set Nari at ease, listened to the situation and then told her the options.
"For your younger ones, I would suggest a girl and a boy. I have a brother and a sister, 10 and 13. Claire! Michael!" She called sharply and two young voices attached to running feet were soon heard. "These are the siblings I was telling you about. Both their parents are overseas fighting and they have no one else to care for them so they are here. Both are good workers, obey instruction, and quick learners. I think they would suit your needs perfectly."
With that the Matron gently pulled them in front of her so that Nari could look the two over. They were dirty, in need of some new clothing, but happy and healthy. She placed a hand on each of their heads and looked at them.
"I am offering you the opportunity to make your own living but be safe. You will work for me in the Grand Marshall's home. He is a loud, annoying, scoundrel of a man.. but he has a kind heart. You will not be mistreated. Room and board, time off for lessons, and a fair wage. What do you say?"
The two children looked at her, then turned and whispered to each other, before turning back and giving her wide smiles.
"Okies" "Sure!"
With a small laugh Nari pulled them into a hug. "Alright then go and get whatever things you have here."
She turned back to the Matron.
"Thank you, that was easier then I thought it would be. Now for my other needs.. have you any suggestions?"
The woman thought for a moment.
"I have one girl, she was an exceptional cook. Apprenticed out to an alchemist in the Mage Quarters, but rumor keeps floating by me that he's sold her into service to a local tavern. She would do well for you and would ease my heart to know she was in good hands."
Nari frowned at the implications of the woman's speech. "What is her name?"
"Sophie. When she lived with us she was a willowy girl with brown hair and hazel eyes. She'd be all of 16 now..."
Nari nodded sharply. "I'll handle it. And lastly... a manservant of some kind?"
The two children had returned, one standing on each side of her, each holding a small cloth bag, and she instinctively wrapped her arms around them and pulled them close.
The Matron smiled at the picture the three made and nodded to her.
"There is an apprentice metal worker, one of my own, in the Dwarfish district. I can send a courier to call him to your home. He is strong, able to follow orders, an independent thinker and doer so you won't have to hover over his shoulder and loyal to a fault. I shall tell him that you have put my heart at ease over Sophie. His loyalty to your household will not waver."
Nari gave her a gracious smile. "You have been more help than I could have hoped. Is there anything I can do to thank you for making this so simple? A donation? Anything...."
The Matron smiled back "Donations are always useful, but I do not take them myself. If you feel you need to simply leave it with Brother Barnaby in the cathedral."
Nari nodded and turned to leave, the two children in tow. "Do not worry about Sophie ma'am. She will have as good a home as these children. I keep my word."
Stepping out of the orphanage with Claire and Michael, Nari handed each 5 gold pieces and instructed them to deliver it to Brother Barnaby.
"Listen well because this will be your first opportunity to prove to me that we will work well together. Once you have handed the priest the gold, you are to go straight to Old Town. No stopping. I will be gathering Sophie from the Mages District, and you two are to be waiting outside the house for me to return with her."
The two children nodded solemnly and she placed a kiss on the forehead of each. "Off you go then..."
She watched as they happily ran off and smiled a moment before turning her attention to the task at hand. Marching from the Cathedral District to the Mages Quarter. It had to be in the Blue Recluse. Nari shuddered at the thought of going in there. Owning a haunted tavern and desperate for money, the owner had been known to do questionable things, but Nari had never thought he would go so far as to enslave a poor girl.
The cathedral bells chimed 10 in the morning. She had two hours to finish up before she was dragging that foolish man back home and making him rest. Stepping into the tavern, her eyes quickly fell on the miserable girl in the corner. Frowning fiercely she stepped up to the tavern keeper.
"You have two choices today sir." She started before he could even greet her. "You can sell me that girl over there, Sophie isn't it?" She said turning to the young woman who nodded slightly. "Sophie, or I can take her and turn you over to the military."
Nari snapped her fingers and 3 little voidwalkers began to hover up and down the bar. "What'll it be barman?"
The man had been ready to order her out of his bar when the demons popped up on his bar, obviously at her command. Swallowing, he stammered out a price. Nari scoffed. 4 gold was so little for a girl who was to others worth so much more. Throwing the gold on the bar with a snort, Nari pointed at Sophie.
"Grab what things of yours you would bring with you. You are coming to work for me. Matron Nightingale told me you would be perfect. I am offering you freedom, a place to sleep safely, food, and a wage in exchange for your abilities in the kitchen."
The girls eye lit up and she stood, walking up to Nari and gratefully flinging her arms around the older woman.
"There is nothing here I want to bring with me. Thank you... thank you so much."
Nari patted her on the back and together they left the tavern, Nari recalling her demons as soon as she was out the door with Sophie. As the two approached the house she had a moment of fear that the two children would have gotten lost or simply decided to run away. Turning the corner, her eyes searched the front of the Grand Marshalls home, and she slumped a bit in relief to see the two tossing a ball back and forth, an older boy watching over them. Stepping forward, Nari outstretched her hand to shake his.
"You must be the Edmund that Matron Nightingale recommended to me. It is a pleasure." She turned to the children and called them softly. "I'm going to warn all four of you that this home is a mess. We've all got our work cut out for us. I'm going to leave you, Edmund, in charge of getting everyone organized. We'll save the finding of rooms for when I've returned with the Grand Marshall and accustomed him to the fact that we will all be here with him."
She opened the door and smirked at the sounds of dismay from her small entourage. Edmund reassured her that he would see to it things were looking up by the time she returned, and giving him a grateful smile, she tucked the key to the door into her bodice and turned to leave closing it behind her. She was definitely relieved. Things would be improved by the time they returned. Now she just had to go find the silly man.
With a huff she stepped back out into the street. It was most likely he was at the tavern, but just in case she would check the headquarters first. She greeted the guards, they were all fairly well acquainted with her as the courier from the Warlocks, and asked them if he was available.
"No ma'am. He's in a meeting."
"Could you possibly direct me in the direction of this meeting? It's very important I speak with him as soon as he's available..."
They gestured down a hallway and she followed their vague directions, coming finally to a large door and taking a look around quietly nudged it open, slinking into the room and settling into a corner to watch. Her eyes fell on his weary figure and she resisted the desire to tell the whole lot of easily identified pompous, arrogant asses to let the man go home to bed. She could wait.
|
|
|
Post by Callahan on Jul 11, 2009 21:49:17 GMT -5
"So, now that that we're all pretty much gathered..." "Excuse us, we'd like to bring your attention to the trouble in our forests." He gripped his head with his hand, wanting to pull his face off and be done with it all. He glanced over at the human officer next to him, who seemed to be sharing his feelings at the moment. This is why he killed Orcs instead of made treaties. "Later. We have other matters to attend to as soon as possible." "But our forests..." "Enough with the damned forests." His temper flew, and the Dwarf looked at him a little impressed. The Elves muttered something in the own language and scowled at him as he tried to breathe through the rage. "I want us to address the global problems first." Finally getting a sentence out, he pursued his problems. "The Undead are growing stronger, our armies are still weak from the original assault. We're getting stronger but we need time. Humanity is a flexible race, with many magi, warriors, assassins and healers in our ranks, but we're unable to stand against the skeleton armies alone." He paused, remembering Lordaeron. "We proved that once."
"So what you suggest, human, is that we protect you until you are strong, at our own expense?" The Night Elves seemed rather uninterested in the prospect. "No, we're capable of defending ourselves, but our progress will be much faster if we work together." "But weh've been in tha same situation as ye humans, and we're in a much stronger shape than ye lot." The Dwarf jumped in, throwing their race's good fortune in his face. "If you'll remember, Master Dwarf, the undead scourge attacked our lands exclusively and spared yours." The dwarf muttered inaudibly, before Val continued. "We can offer some aid to your besieged forests, but there are increasing attacks against our lands. We've already had to pull formal military defenses from many of our territories. Most are milita governed at the moment." Westfall and Darkshire came to mind especially.
"Then perhaps, Grand Marshal, you should consider the protection of your own people before attempting the expansions back into lands you have no hopes of retrieving." The title spoke with a stinging air to it, making him narrow his eyes as the Elves spoke. "And furthermore we find it typical that humans claim to need help, after all this mess was caused by one of your own." "Don't you dare compare me and my men to that bastard. Arthas brought a great doom upon us all. His arrogance and short temper led to him succumbing to the Lich King." "Sounds awfully like you, doesn't it, Grand Marshal." Val turned, his eyes meeting with the man on the long table, bald and big bearded, a warhammer and tome by his side. "You will withdraw your statement, Brother Parus, for I shall not have anyone compare me to that murderer." He slowly approached the table to where the paladin sat, less than 6 feet from him, speaking in angry tones.
"You marched to battle because you missed it. Little to be gained. Arthas did a similar thing when he went after Mal'Ganis." Val felt his eyes burning. Not from ache or tiredness but from anger, drawing his sword in a flash and swinging down with a roar, embedding it deep in the table, less than a foot away from the paladin. "Arthas is nothing like I am. He killed my people and left us to die. I am trying to save my people, and who do I have to work with?" He stepped way from the hilt, finding many of the occupants on their feet. "Dwarves flaunting their good fortunes in our faces. Gnomes wanting us to reclaim their lands lost by their own doing. Night Elves wanting us to place forests above people." He paused, rounding back on the paladin. "And now our own people start turning against me. Where were you, Brother Parus, when the hordes of undead roamed across the fields into Lordaeron, clawing at your feet as you try to escape, forcing you off a cliff to survive? Where were you when we fought the Orcs and I was left defending a bridge alone, my men dead all around me? Where were you when defending humanity should have been your job, and instead you gave up action for words?" The paladin looked down, not willing to answer. Val knew where he had been. Palus had been one of the ones who abstained from the wars and let the people be killed. Parus mumbled his withdrawal of the statement and Val relaxed a little, the pain in his shoulder feeling a lot worse than earlier.
"The time for words is long done. The undead are massing in Northrend. Their numbers could swarm across us in weeks, even days, if they attacked in full force. But they don't because they know we grow stronger, and so they must be stronger. If they ever feel we are weak they will attack." He paused, glaring at the elves. "Which is why we need to grow as fast as we can, regardless of forests." "You don't seem to understand, Grand Marshal, our forests are very important to us." The title wasn't as harsh now. He had addressed the gnome problem, maybe he could help with the Night Elves. "What if we offer incentives to warriors who choose to battle against the enemies in your forests? Would that be an agreeable trade for your full support?" The elves talked in their language once again, and he stood waiting for them to finish, almost wishing he hadn't embedded his sword in front of Parus so he could use it now.
"Very well, we'll agree to support as long as our forests are protected by willing warriors." He nodded, turning to the Dwarf now, expecting something further. "And I suppose the mighty dwarves are expecting us to offer them something as well now, too. Am I right?" "Actually human there's nothin' we need from ye, we're glad te fight by yer side as blood brothers." Val paused, struck for a moment at the apparent altruism, knowing it to be unlike the dwarves to be so eager to agree to something. "But...?" "Well, we wouldn't mind a tax cut on the beer in Stormwind for our lads. I mean, we do an aweful lot o' work here and it can get mighty expensive." Val sighed with relief. Maybe the meeting was finally over. "Sir, there's still some reports from Westfall, Darkshire, Nethergarde, Lakeshire, our field armies, the scouts in the north and overseas, and our registered undead movements to read through." The man at the desk stated, reading through each slip of paper monotonously as he rummaged through them. Val nodded, defeated at last, waving everyone else out of the room to leave him alone with the papers he'd be sitting and reading and responding to and analysing and strategising with and debating to himself about for the next few hours.
|
|
|
Post by Narisha on Jul 11, 2009 22:26:25 GMT -5
She stood at the door silently. Watching as they tore into him and furious for it. There wasn't one race present that had clean hands, save maybe the dwarves because they hid as cowards in Dun Murough. She could see how tired and sore he was, see how his heart ached as he yelled at the paladin. Fools every damned on of them.
Her anger mounted at the absurdity of it all. There came a moment where she nearly blew the head off every last individual in the meeting in order to give him the rest he so obviously and badly needed. But when the Dwarves ambassador stated his countrymen's desire to not pay so much for their beer, she let loose a relieved laugh. Making her way forward, she ignored everyone in the room, from the guards who had missed her at the door, to the elves. Though she was sorely tempted to pull a succubus and have it torment the paladin. Though, at second thought she figured he would probably enjoy it.
"Oh Grand Marshal, simply give them their beer for free. It is true they do much work here and it seems to be a vice shared amongst... brothers... was it Master Dwarf?
She turned to the stout little man raising an eyebrow. "And I shall have to thank you personally for making the most reasonable request out of everyone gathered here. The Grand Marshal is obviously exhausted from having done the noble thing, the right thing, the honorable thing."
Her gaze fell on him and she stretched out a hand, brushing it down his cheek and under his chin, just as she had done in the cave and smiled at him.
"And you all sit here, safe and happy, like house cats who have made a pact with the mice. I look at the others in this room and see men who would rationalize away rescuing children from their enemies if it meant keeping themselves and their heritage safe."
Her hand fell away from his face and she turned to look at the Elves.
"Tell me fine sirs. What good will your forests be when there are none of you left to tend them? When they are overrun with the undead? You would look down on this man for protecting women you call whores, instead of tending to what? Trees?" She gave a cold, mirthless laugh. "Only a fool would put a life on the level of a tree. Sacred or not."
Nari then turned to the little man with his precious reports and papers and gave him a purely wicked smile. With a wave of her hand a small storm brewed over his desk.
"You may want to move..."
She watched gleefully as little fireballs fell from the clouds, incinerating every last piece of precious paperwork. The desk soon caught fire as well and with a small sigh at her fun being over she waved her hand and froze the flames.
"The Grand Marshal will look over your reports and other desperately important bits of paper work after he has rested. You may assume that by the time all that" She gestured at the pile of ash, "Is rewritten he will be back and better able to handle all this disgusting pomp and circumstance."
She returned her gaze to him and her face softened. "Come sir. It's time you went home and rested."
|
|
|
Post by Callahan on Jul 11, 2009 23:08:34 GMT -5
"Oh Grand Marshal, simply give them their beer for free. It is true they do much work here and it seems to be a vice shared amongst... brothers... was it Master Dwarf?
How in the heck did that girl get into the headquarters unchecked? Maybe he missed something. Was she suddenly of high enough rank to warrant an officer's pass? He should scold the guards and have them on night sentry for a month. But then again he looked back at her, and she was pretty. He himself had yet to say no to the girl, even when she hadn't even asked for something. He sighed, actually realising what she was suggesting, standing to his feet in her presence. "I'm afraid free beer would have half the population of Ironforge here in an hour, and the kegs dried by the end of the day with no work done whatsoever." He smiled, and the dwarf nodded in hearty agreement. She turned around to the dwarf looking at him, her body and speech confident for one so young and unexpected. She'd cleaned too, he noticed. And maybe wearing new clothes, it was hard to tell. He could hardly remember the events of the morning.
"And I shall have to thank you personally for making the most reasonable request out of everyone gathered here. The Grand Marshal is obviously exhausted from having done the noble thing, the right thing, the honorable thing." Oh right, he remembered now. he'd lost 37 men fighting Orcs. That's what he'd done. Yet her words made it seem like it was OK. His thoughts conflicted over the issue. Losing men was a bad thing, but was it worth it if it saved others. Wasn't it? Wasn't that what they had enrolled for? Wasn't it what he had enrolled for?
Her hand rolled down his cheek, her smooth touch foreign to the harsh texture and scruffy stubble of his cheek, and then it rolled around his chin, her eyes locking with his and, whether he felt faint from fatigue or her gaze, he wasn't sure, but he remembered this from the morning too now. In the cave. "And you all sit here, safe and happy, like house cats who have made a pact with the mice. I look at the others in this room and see men who would rationalize away rescuing children from their enemies if it meant keeping themselves and their heritage safe." She withdrew her hand from his face and he felt himself following a little, wanting to prolong her tough, registering her words. He knew of some who had already carried out that deed. Called against his desires to leave the armies stationed around the towns and villages, instead pooling soldiers into Stormwind. Entire lands defended only by militia.
"Tell me fine sirs. What good will your forests be when there are none of you left to tend them? When they are overrun with the undead? You would look down on this man for protecting women you call whores, instead of tending to what? Trees?" She gave a cold, mirthless laugh, which caught his attention almost of its own accord. "Only a fool would put a life on the level of a tree. Sacred or not." He nodded somewhat. The elves were very fond of their trees. They were a nature-loving species, and the Orcs, well. They cut the trees down for weapons of war. Defending the forest would assist them in the long run, but she spoke truths. Trees, whilst magestic, old, tall and steadfast, and an entire life in itself, was precious, it could not equate in his eyes to the life of a person. Maybe to the elves, but not to him.
"You may want to move..." He did not quite follow what she was talking about or to whom, until he saw the ember flashes out of the corner of his eye and the quick movements of the scribe as the desk caught alight. He stood up quickly, alarmed and shocked that she had managed to do that. She was more powerful than he had been aware of, and certainly headstrong of her own accord. Her face showed enjoyment in the way she destroyed the paperwork, and with a simple motion of the hand she removed every trace of flame, leaving behind ash and singed papers. "Those were copies, right?" The colour drained from his face a little, worried they'd just lost some key reports and information. "Yes, sir." The man replied shakily, hardly accustomed to nearly being set on fire by young women. "Good, I'll read the next copies once they're done."
"The Grand Marshal will look over your reports and other desperately important bits of paper work after he has rested. You may assume that by the time all that is rewritten, he will be back and better able to handle all this disgusting pomp and circumstance." She gestured at the scorched table, and he was impressed by her stubborn ways and strength of character, if not for the fact that she had saved him multiple hours of working through papers whilst tired, almost guaranteeing him to make a mistake. He didn't know who she was, or how she knew him enough to want to go through so much trouble. He should truly try saving women more often if this is how grateful they god. She turned her face to him, her features soft and pretty. "Come sir. It's time you went home and rested." He nodded, not arguing with someone who could probably set him on fire, amongst other things, ending their meeting for the time being and noticing a raised eyebrow from the dwarf, which he returned with an equally perplexed look, following the young lady out of the building, her arm through his, his eyes nearly watering at the sound of the twelve-bells.
"I've saved your life, you've saved mine, I've carried you for a full day, laid you to rest in my bed, had you save me from hours of paperwork, and I don't seem to even know your name." He pointed out, considering his memory and seeing if he'd managed to forget anything.
|
|
|
Post by Narisha on Jul 12, 2009 4:45:37 GMT -5
Her name... well hell...
"Narianne Altair sir."
And my history with you is not a subject I ever want to discuss She thought to herself as she struggled for change of subject. Her eyes darted across the street begging for any inspiration as they turned the corner towards his house.... His House!
"Sir, before we get home I'd like to ask that you simply take yourself up to your room and de-" Her hands waved in the air as she struggled for the right word. "De-armor-fy yourself. Climb into bed and rest. There are some changes have taken place in your home and you're hardly in the proper shape to deal with them rationally."
The had reached the door of the house and she quickly pulled the key from her bodice before he could stoop to look for it. Sliding it into the lock, she held her hand on it, not turning and said kindly,
"I'll be up shortly with something proper for you to eat and fresh bandages. The doctor stitched your shoulder yesterday, but the bandages should be changed and everything checked for infection."
Her hand twisted the key, then turned the knob opening the door. The change was incredible and refreshing. Though there were still cobwebs in windows and dust on sills, the floors had been swept and she could hear the slosh of water in a bucket and a brush on the floors. Someone was mopping and it nearly brought her to tears. The papers that had been laying freely were stacked on uncluttered tables and she could smell something in the kitchen... a soup she guessed... and blessed both Matron Nightingale and Sophie for being so wonderful.
A quick look towards the kitchen brought Edmund to her eyes and she subtly nodded at the kitchen, relieved when he gathered the two children and ushered them away. Turning to the Grand Marshal, she laid a hand on his arm.
"Go on up to your room now. If you need help removing your armor just... open the door and ask for me. Someone will be up to help you within seconds. I'll give you half an hour to get all that metal off you and yourself into bed before I show up to work on your wounds and make sure you eat. We will talk further after you have rested."
With an air of finality she began to walk away from him and towards the kitchen. If he needed her she would hear and be there instantly, but she wasn't going to encourage him to stay out of bed by remaining at his side.
|
|
|
Post by Callahan on Jul 12, 2009 6:06:30 GMT -5
He nodded at her name. Narianne. Pretty name for a pretty girl. She moved on quietly with him, offering her no more than that. His house coming into sight as they rounded the corner, the gleam from the sun hardly something he wanted to see at this time of day. Well, this time of his day. How long had he been awake now? 30 hours? More or less. She slipped the key out from her bodice, apparently prepared all too well for his arrival, requesting he remove his armour, sleep and not worry about what was happening. He had no intention, his shoulder would send him to sleep soon enough. The rest would do him some good and let it heal over. Stepping through the doorway after her he was hit by a sudden feeling that things had changed.
Well, obviously things had changed. The floor was swept, windows cleaner, desk tidied, there was the sound of water in the kitchen, the aroma of food lingering enticingly around the house, and before his eyes adjusted to the dimmer interior he was sure he saw something moving about inside. What she had done, he had no idea. He hardly had time to decide what to argue with her about, half of his mind wanting sleep and half wanting the delicious food he could smell. Why were there people running around in his house? How was he going to find out where the papers he needed were? What else had they touched? He glanced above the fireplace. "Someone's moved my wine." He murmured, making a note to get some more from the tavern after he woke up, trudging himself past the cleanliness and towards his room, the stairs creaking beneath the armour and his weight.
His room was untouched, yet. For that he was certainly glad. He stooped to pick up the wooden armour dummy that he tended to hang the armour on instead of leaving it on the floor, removing a dirty shirt from it with a contorted look on his face. He started with the gauntlets, undoing the leather straps and sliding off the plate armguards from around his wrist and fingers, laying them on the dresser, followed by his thick leather gloves. He squeezed his fingers a little, the skin overjoyed to feel the air once again. His hands were red and a little raw, but he'd manage. He looked by his side, noticing his sword wasn't there. He'd forgotten to take it from the table it was embedded in, somehow. No matter, he'd get it tomorrow.
His shoulderguards were the next to be removed, and he placed the first one on the bed, trying to delay touching the wounded shoulder as much as he could for the being. Finally, the other pauldron totally removed, he began work on the next shoulder, removing it twice as fast as the other to try and prevent touching it for long. He couldn't see the cut, but it felt pretty nasty. he began unstrapping his plate armour, pulling the heavy metal from his torso with a grunt, taking it and placing it on the armour dummy, then putting the shoulder pauldrons on top, clearing the bed. He stretched a little, moving his freer arms and remembering with a sigh that he'd left his helmet on the table too, punching the wall firmly in his annoyed state.
With some fiddling he managed to loosen his plated boots and slipped them off against the rest of his armour, revealing a smaller pair beneath that he removed too, before then going on to remove the remaining armoured parts - his greaves. Twice as light and feeling a lot better, yet still as bad, he climbed into bed with a grunt, sighing as the comforting warmth engulfed his exhausted form.
|
|
|
Post by Narisha on Jul 12, 2009 7:19:23 GMT -5
She said half an hour and she meant it. Though as she heard his bedroom door close she waved her hand and sent her imp scampering up the stairs to sit outside his door. She had also said if he called she would hear him.
Nari looked at the small group gathered in the kitchen and smile gratefully at them.
"You have done more than I even thought was possible in the short time I was away. Expect it to be shown in your wages. Now, a few things before I disappear again. Claire, I need you to find me some bandages or sheets. If you can't please tell Edmund so he can run and purchase some. Sophie, whatever that delicious smell is, I will need it on a tray with a small loaf of bread. If we don't have that please tell me and I'll deal with it. Edmund, please continue overseeing the cleaning of this place. I'm going to go take a look around at what boarding is available her in the house and be back in about 20 minutes."
She swiftly moved through the house, taking stock of the rooms inside. Dining room, sitting room, cellar, 3 ground floor bedrooms, two upstairs; she ran through briefly the needs of each, making a mental list of supplies that would need to be purchased before stumbling on a sun room and an office towards the rear of the house. Smiling to herself, she made special note of those two rooms. She had a feeling they would come in quite handy down the road.
Shaking her head to help gather her thoughts, she turned and hurried back into the kitchen. Edmund had evidently returned from the alchemist with a healing potion and some bandages and Sophie had the tray ready with a small sliced loaf of bread. Giving them a heartfelt smile of thanks she turned and made her way up the stairs, Rupyup meeting her half way and dancing along behind her as she passed.
At the door she hesitated. Silently standing there and listening for any sound from within. Hearing nothing, she balanced the tray carefully on one hand and turned the handle, slipping silently inside. She didn't look at him as she set the bowl of bandages soaking in the healing potion on a table. In fact she avoided him altogether for a few minutes as she gathered the nerves that had for some reason fled the moment the door opened. Clearing another space, she set down the tray with his food, taking in a breath and turning to look at him.
He looked adorable. It caused her to pause in truth; but snuggled into the bed he looked just adorable. A blush crept up her cheeks and she snatched up the bowl of bandages marching to his bedside.
The wound on his shoulder did not look good. There didn't appear to be any signs of infection as she peeled the bandages off carefully, but it was a nasty, nasty wound.
"You stupid fool..." She muttered under her breath. "Could have been killed and what good would that do anyone..."
She carefully poured some of the potion from the bowl onto the wound, pleased when it barely fizzled, simply soaking in. The less fizzle, the less infection; or so she'd been taught. Then taking the bandages one by one, she made a damp poultice type mess and carefully pressed it into his shoulder, glancing at him to make sure she wasn't hurting him too badly, before wrapping it firmly in place.
"You're not to move that shoulder much for at least a couple days. Your stitches could tear. And don't expect to leave this bed for at least a couple days anyway. You need to rest and recover."
She set the bowl aside and rose to get the tray of food, conjuring a glass of ice cold water for him.
"It would be easiest if you could sit up, but don't strain yourself. We'll manage if you can't."
She settled next to him on the bed and waited for him to decide what to do. Then with a sharp shake of her head she recalled her words.
"No, no... You just lay there and I'll just feed you. I really would rather you didn't stress that wound anymore than is absolutely necessary."
|
|
|
Post by Callahan on Jul 12, 2009 11:55:25 GMT -5
He heard her return to his presence and she entered the room, his half opened eyes watching her fiddle with something in a bowl, her eyes not meeting his for such a long time, but he was just glad to be warm and comfortable, and to have her in his sight again. She approached him at last, finally peeling away the bandages from his shoulder, feeling the skin stretch, probably from blood more than anything else. She tutted disapprovingly at him as the wound became visible. "You stupid fool... Could have been killed and what good would that do anyone..." He shook his head, feeling she didn't understand. "I forfeit my life for the protection of others. If I die to save them, then I am willing to do so. I have been all my life."
He went quiet as she started to brush the would with a wet sponge, letting the liquid clean it, he assumed. It didn't feel bad, or at least not as bad as before. It actually felt kind of good, in a masochistic sort of way. He didn't mind pain, he was used to it to be frank. Orcs weren't the sweetest of beasts. "You're not to move that shoulder much for at least a couple days. Your stitches could tear. And don't expect to leave this bed for at least a couple days anyway. You need to rest and recover." He rolled his eyes. He'd do as well as he damned pleased as soon as he felt well enough for it. He'd had deeper wounds before and turned into the headquarters the next day. Without a hangover, too. Then again he had drunk constantly the entire night before, and even poured half a pint onto the gouge in his side to disinfect the wound from that day.
He groaned a little at the thought of having a pint of mead just about now. Would definately take the edge off his drowsyness and the pain in his shoulder. His arm shifted as she tightened the bandage around it, not from pain but just from the feeling. He was hardly aware she had changed the bandage already, probably too busy thinking about how much he wanted to pass out in the Pig and Whistle, or how much he wanted to stay here with her close to him. At that moment, though, she moved away, and he cursed himself for thinking of that at that moment, watching her pass close to the tray with food in it and lifting it towards him, a bowl and a glass balanced on it. The food certainly smelled delicious, enough to make him want to sleep. "It would be easiest if you could sit up, but don't strain yourself. We'll manage if you can't." He paused, feeling she was mothering him a little in the way she was trying to take care of him. Well, a lot.
With a groan he pushed himself into a sitting position with one arm, not moving the other and ensuring the covers stayed firmly over most of his body, before her shaking head started to catch his attention. "No, no... You just lay there and I'll just feed you. I really would rather you didn't stress that wound anymore than is absolutely necessary." He decided to put his foot down, if only to get some food and then some sleep, but foremost to get back the independence and dignity she seemed to be stripping from him. "Listen, Narianne, I'm quite capable of eating some food, even with a little cut like this. I didn't survive the wars by being over-protected, and I can certainly survive this." He defiantly took the spoon with his uninjured arm, scooping up some of the soup and feeding it to himself, sighing at his short temper but really reaching the end of his tether. Not with her, but with everything else. Realising he'd snapped he considered an apology, but he wasn't really good at saying those sorts of things, looking down into the soup mournfully in silence.
|
|
|
Post by Narisha on Jul 12, 2009 16:41:36 GMT -5
She watched as he snatched the spoon from her, amused at the display of temper. Settling into a more comfortable position on the bed next to him she waited a moment as he stared into the soup. Silly man getting all worked up over yelling at her... At least that's what she assumed had so suddenly caused his mood to change. If he hadn't yet understood that she knew how tired he was then he was about as hopeless as she believed.
"It's hardly a little cut you know... There were places when the doctor was stitching you that he could see your bone showing through. In truth you nearly lost that arm at the shoulder."
A tiny smile quirked her lips, only there for a fleeting second as she attempted to put his temper at ease.
"And you'll have to forgive my method of care-taking. I've planted myself in your home, made some drastic changes, and am probably mothering you beyond your tolerance."
She paused, her head drooping and her eyes staring at her hands as they played in the folds of her skirt. Her next words would have to be truthful but cautious. Too much could be said and she didn't ever want him to figure out who she was if she could help it.
"You will have to forgive it and to some extent deal with it. It's shameful that a man so willing to lay down his life for others is treated so poorly. You have fought alone for far too long and are suffering for it. No one who has given so much should have so little to come home to."
She stared hard at her hands as a horrible impulse came over her. The same impulse she had given in to twice now. The impulse to touch him. Her hands tightened into fists in her lap, she'd not be so weak again. But then she turned to look at him and with a sigh at her weakness fingers a bit of hair hanging in his face before brushing her fingers down his cheek again.
It was funny how the feel of his stubble against her fingers made her shiver and a fascinated smile crept across her face as it happened once again. Curious about it she brushed the backs of her fingers up his other cheek, pausing a moment before the realization dawned on her that she was sitting there with her hand cupping his cheek. She quickly jerked her hand away.
"I-I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me."
|
|
|
Post by Callahan on Jul 12, 2009 17:42:04 GMT -5
He managed another spoon of the soup, the taste taking away some of the anger he felt for himself at having snapped. It tasted good, and he would have finished the full bowl quite happily, but in the presence of a lady he felt he needed to be more... what was the word? Eloquent? He was hardly the fine-dining officer he was supposed to be. Couldn't tell a salad fork from a pitchfork, and most of the officers had given up trying to teach him how to behave at their more lavish feasts. He was content to bite meat from the bone, guzzle down his beer and talk loudly with the soldier next to him about subjects ranging from battles to breasts and back again. Those were the things he could do, not talking monthly farming outputs with emissaries from Theramore and acting as polite as he was supposed to be. When an officer is raised through the ranks there isn't time for civil manners training.
It was a little cut. The arm wouldn't have came off, he was sure of it. Seeing bone wasn't anything. He'd seen full skeletons and they still seemed capable of moving around. He shook his head slightly, trying to dismiss the undead armies from his mind, sidetracking him. But the cut. It didn't hurt that bad. If it were really bad he wouldn't have been able to do half of what he'd been doing. He'd been there before, back when... when he didn't have someone looking out for him and caring for him. Mothering? Yes, maybe, but it had been so long since someone showed interest him without expecting orders or a new place for them to place Hide-The-Axe.
This woman who seemed attached to him, despite his obvious, many flaws, whom he seemed fatally attracted to, who had done so much more for him after he had only saved her. He had tried to push her away, been angry with her, and not made any sort of impression worthy of her time and patience, and yet she was here apoligising to him for taking care of him and his home. A tear cascaded down his face, either from emotions, tired eyes, or just dry eyes, he wasn't sure. "Please, don't be sorry..." he muttered, trying to force himself to take another spoon of the soup, finding the cuttlery heavier to lift than it was earlier.
Her next words, though, were so... so honest, they almost hurt. His life meant little to him, and there would be few who missed him for who he was. The greatest loss to the Alliance would be his military strategies and experience, but that was hardly a loss if they looked hard enough in their ranks. They could find someone just as good, if not better, who wasn't a drunkard. His treatment was in line with his behaviour, and he was used to it, and he preferred fighting alone. No one to die for his mistakes that way. He wanted to tell her all this, but before he could muster up his own words her touches appeared on his face again, her soft warm touches making him move instantly towards them, and he felt that movement in his shoulder. He stayed still, not wanting to move the shoulder now, but focusing away from it and more on her now, and more than any other time before.
Her hand moved away suddenly, and the feeling that was driving back the sleep disappeared with it, causing his eyes to droop wearily. "Listen, I'm not a good man for you. I'm best left alone, and you need to find yourself someone who'll take care of you. I'm too far gone into this lifestyle to be rescued. Maybe you can find another soldier that you can actually succeed at redeeming." He sighed, not wanting to drive her away but not wanting her staying and feeling pain at the end.
|
|
|
Post by Narisha on Jul 12, 2009 18:14:33 GMT -5
Nari frowned at him as he spoke.
"It's hardly a shot at redemption. I've been around you enough to believe that is entirely unlikely. You are an absolute scoundrel."
Embarrassed by her tiny lapse in judgement and using his words as an opportunity to cover for it, she leapt to her feet and pointed at him.
"You've harassed and molested me since I was 13 years old. I can't even count the number of times... And you're always ALWAYS drunk. You dont' even remember me in between bouts of being drunk. It's like I'm something your imagination conjures up at random. But despite all of it you rescued me and I owe you my life so I'll be making damned sure you keep yours as long as possible. Finish your soup and get some sleep."
Turn she stomped out of the room, firmly shutting the door behind her and stomped down the stairs into the kitchen. She made herself a bowl of soup and glared at the ladle as though her glare would turn it into the man upstairs. She was frustrated, annoyed, and...
With a wail she realized what all she'd said to him.
As though in a daze she moved over to the table and sat down, placing her bowl of soup gently on the surface.
Hell
Damn
She buried her head in her hands.
|
|
|
Post by Callahan on Jul 12, 2009 18:36:43 GMT -5
A shiver crept along his spine at her words. He'd molested and harrassed her when drunk?! The words didn't seem to make sense in his head, but yes, it seemed so right. It explained everything, and at the same time it blocked him from focusing on her, her shouts echoing in his ears before she stomped away, feet pounding down the stairs, leaving him alone. He remembered that too. Now, at least. Now that she had mentioned it, bringing the entire thing flooding back to him. Well, not the entire thing. Painful moments of hazy memory where he could remember her vaguely, his hands all over her young body, and it disgusted him. He half wished he had his sword with him so he could run himself through on it, staring at the soup for a few seconds before throwing it in self disgust across the room, it landing on the floor somewhere, his eyes not following it.
All this time he had been drinking to forget the pain, to forget the sadness, and he hadn't forgotten it, he'd transferred it onto that poor girl. She probably hated him more than she'd ever admit, and he found that a terrible thing to have to realise. Rolling over to his side, he ignored the pain in his shoulder over the one in his chest, his eyes steadily shutting into a sleep. His body following, glad of finally having the rest, but his mind working overtime, working on the things that had happened, nightmares forming in his dreams.
|
|