"Let's say that you've gained my curiosity with that, Nendrovus. You sell fun times, you say? Now that leaves me wondering, what is it particularly you've got on offer? What it does? How it's made? What the price is, the upsides and the downsides? Once you tell me all that, I might be considering your offer. If whatever you're offering there satisfies me, I might even give you a generous tip. So, get started with convincing me!"
Nendrovus jumps slightly at the Void Elf interrupting his sales pitch to Alyssandra, but quickly regains his composure as he is forced to improvise.
"OH!" Nendrovus pulls his arm from the Human's shoulder and approaches Laurenn (if that's still right) "Hello there! Caught me off guard haven't you? I like that! Now. You're asking what I have for sale? Yes? I am selling these fine scrolls that, on command, can bring your imagination to life! With some restrictions of course... BUT NEVER MIND THAT!"
Nendrovus pauses to rummage through his cape looking for his newest batch of scrolls. He pulls them out and quickly proceeds to the next part of his improvised script.
"Think about it: You're bored out of your mind, you're sitting there thinking "Oh by the light and/or void! I'm so bored! Why isn't there anything entertaining around here! And because you don't have my scrolls: You stay bored! But if you DO have them? Well just cast it and watch something amazing happen! Maybe fireworks? Maybe an elemental comes out of nowhere and gives you a high five? Whatever! Its up to you! Maybe you're feeling a little "naughty" aswell if you catch my meaning!" Nendrovus winks and nudges the mage.
"But hey! I'm not you! You do you! Now, I'm offering these 6 gold each, but you? How about we make that 4 gold, hmm? You deserve it! Come on!"
"OH!" Nendrovus pulls his arm from the Human's shoulder and approaches Laurenn (if that's still right) "Hello there! Caught me off guard haven't you? I like that! Now. You're asking what I have for sale? Yes? I am selling these fine scrolls that, on command, can bring your imagination to life! With some restrictions of course... BUT NEVER MIND THAT!"
Nendrovus pauses to rummage through his cape looking for his newest batch of scrolls. He pulls them out and quickly proceeds to the next part of his improvised script.
"Think about it: You're bored out of your mind, you're sitting there thinking "Oh by the light and/or void! I'm so bored! Why isn't there anything entertaining around here! And because you don't have my scrolls: You stay bored! But if you DO have them? Well just cast it and watch something amazing happen! Maybe fireworks? Maybe an elemental comes out of nowhere and gives you a high five? Whatever! Its up to you! Maybe you're feeling a little "naughty" aswell if you catch my meaning!" Nendrovus winks and nudges the mage.
"But hey! I'm not you! You do you! Now, I'm offering these 6 gold each, but you? How about we make that 4 gold, hmm? You deserve it! Come on!"
Laurenn (Yeah, that's still her!) lets Nendrovus make his point fully before she parts her lips to speak. She's listening intently to his attempts to persuade her, smiling innocently as he speaks. She'd seem absorbed by his persuasion skills at first - he for sure got her gold in his pocket already!
But, the moment he finishes speaking, Laurenn shakes her head.
"Thank you for the offer, Nendrovus, but... I'm afraid I'd rather pass that. It sounds quite interesting and all that, but you seem to be omitting a slight detail in all this. I'm a mage myself, would be capable of replicating the scroll's effects on my own. That'd mean it is unnecessary for me to buy your scroll. But good luck with further attempts of selling it, I'll make sure to recommend you to my friends! I've had fun listening to you, perhaps you should've become a professional entertainer. Shorel'aran, Nendrovus."
With that, Laurenn turns around and walks off, the smile persisting on her face. Once away enough from the Shal'dorei to get off his sight, she lets out a slight laugh.
"At least he's passionate about his job. That's always appreciated. I like him already."
But, the moment he finishes speaking, Laurenn shakes her head.
"Thank you for the offer, Nendrovus, but... I'm afraid I'd rather pass that. It sounds quite interesting and all that, but you seem to be omitting a slight detail in all this. I'm a mage myself, would be capable of replicating the scroll's effects on my own. That'd mean it is unnecessary for me to buy your scroll. But good luck with further attempts of selling it, I'll make sure to recommend you to my friends! I've had fun listening to you, perhaps you should've become a professional entertainer. Shorel'aran, Nendrovus."
With that, Laurenn turns around and walks off, the smile persisting on her face. Once away enough from the Shal'dorei to get off his sight, she lets out a slight laugh.
"At least he's passionate about his job. That's always appreciated. I like him already."
Upon encountering Laurenn, the older void elf puts and arm around her shoulder and smiles to her, as she feels that a bond of familiarity as been formed already.
"Passionate is not the right word I would use in this predicament, dear. It is desperation. A desperation that has become his nature. In a way he is compelled to do so and act so. But that is just my take on it. I could be wrong as I have been so many times on my life. But on another subject...Have you ever tried to randomly speak and scream to someone in the language of the Old Gods without starting any kind of a conversation beforehand?"
"Passionate is not the right word I would use in this predicament, dear. It is desperation. A desperation that has become his nature. In a way he is compelled to do so and act so. But that is just my take on it. I could be wrong as I have been so many times on my life. But on another subject...Have you ever tried to randomly speak and scream to someone in the language of the Old Gods without starting any kind of a conversation beforehand?"
"Hello there!"
Is what she'd say, then following up, after noticing her kin's garb;
"Soooo you seem to really like skulls? Is that something you're passionate about? Tell me all about it, I'll get us some drinks!"
Is what she'd say, then following up, after noticing her kin's garb;
"Soooo you seem to really like skulls? Is that something you're passionate about? Tell me all about it, I'll get us some drinks!"
"Speaking of clothes - and passions - I do love your look. Good to see a Void Elf who's not ashamed of her colors. Come, sit! Those drinks are on me."
As Talraea returns to her private quarters in whatever Alliance settlement she's currently residing within, upon entering her bedroom, she finds Cathríon sitting slightly slouched in a chair, balancing on its hind legs, her own legs up on a nearby table, feet crossed at the ankles, her head tilted slightly with her mask rolled down around her neck, face revealed. In her hands, she holds what appears to be an official looking Alliance document, one of the coded intelligence reports the Void Elf would be familiar with, her eyes scanning across it as if she is currently reading it. After allowing a moment for Talraea to recognise her presence, the Sin'dorei speaks. "They're planning a propaganda campaign against the Regent Lord? Light bless Matthias Shaw's gullible nature … his incredibly inept approach to espionage, infiltration and subversion is nothing short of astonishing."
Cathríon then rolls up the report, turning her attention to Talraea. "I presume it was one of our sapphire brothers and sisters such as yourself who suggested this notion?"
The Blood Elf then removes her feet from the table in front of her, causing the chair to drop onto all four of its legs before standing up herself, tucking the report into her belt then nonchalantly smoothing any wrinkles from her tabard out. "We both know such a movement has no legs … Lor'themar is the most suitable individual to lead our nation, and if anyone disagreed with that, well … your current residence wouldn't be within this nation, would it?"
She then begins to casually saunter towards a nearby window, gesturing slightly with her hands as she continues to speak. "Irrespective of current loyalties, you and I are both aware of the fact that even if the Alliance managed to siege or even occupy Silvermoon City, it would do absolutely nothing to halt the devious schemes of a certain odious "Lady" …
Reaching the window, she leans against the wall just beside it, pinching at the curtains, tugging them back a touch, glancing outside. "... in fact, it would most likely benefit her. The more living nations which feud and fall will only aid her inevitable plan of eventually turning on us all while the world is divided and her cult of death can grind us all beneath their plague driven wheels … Quel'Thalas falls to the Alliance, and you can bet yourself she'll out do the Scourge's Dead Scar. I know you do not want to see that anymore than I do. If the Alliance's attempts to march north are consistently hindered, they'll be forced to pay more attention towards actually viable points of interest from both our perspectives."
The Blood Elf then tugs her mask up back over her nose in a snug fashion before looking back towards Talraea. "So … have you an answer for my proposal yet? Only one of our method are viable, and I don't need to tell you whose."
Cathríon then rolls up the report, turning her attention to Talraea. "I presume it was one of our sapphire brothers and sisters such as yourself who suggested this notion?"
The Blood Elf then removes her feet from the table in front of her, causing the chair to drop onto all four of its legs before standing up herself, tucking the report into her belt then nonchalantly smoothing any wrinkles from her tabard out. "We both know such a movement has no legs … Lor'themar is the most suitable individual to lead our nation, and if anyone disagreed with that, well … your current residence wouldn't be within this nation, would it?"
She then begins to casually saunter towards a nearby window, gesturing slightly with her hands as she continues to speak. "Irrespective of current loyalties, you and I are both aware of the fact that even if the Alliance managed to siege or even occupy Silvermoon City, it would do absolutely nothing to halt the devious schemes of a certain odious "Lady" …
Reaching the window, she leans against the wall just beside it, pinching at the curtains, tugging them back a touch, glancing outside. "... in fact, it would most likely benefit her. The more living nations which feud and fall will only aid her inevitable plan of eventually turning on us all while the world is divided and her cult of death can grind us all beneath their plague driven wheels … Quel'Thalas falls to the Alliance, and you can bet yourself she'll out do the Scourge's Dead Scar. I know you do not want to see that anymore than I do. If the Alliance's attempts to march north are consistently hindered, they'll be forced to pay more attention towards actually viable points of interest from both our perspectives."
The Blood Elf then tugs her mask up back over her nose in a snug fashion before looking back towards Talraea. "So … have you an answer for my proposal yet? Only one of our method are viable, and I don't need to tell you whose."
OOC: Go ahead and skip me! Respond to Cathrion. This is more sort of in our personal drama.
IC
As Cathrion speaks, Talraea doesn't look up. She's at her desk in an inn in Stormsong, writing something out in a coded language that likely originated far away from Azeroth. Her quill barely scratches with the soft, elegant strokes of Elven calligraphy. Eventually, unhurried, she puts down the quill, caps the inkwell and sets the paper down to let the inks dry.
The Void Elf takes a deep breath. When she speaks her tone is collected, but not truly calm - as if she's not so much confident as tired. Her voice echoes with tears already shed, arguments shouted and curses laid. "I remember when they brought in the dark priests," she says quietly. "The ones who answer when someone in Silvermoon voices dissent. I remember watching them twist public speakers into puppets right in front of peoples' eyes, flaunting their power. It must sound rich for me to complain about dark magic, but the way they used it terrified me.
"I was in Silvermoon as a citizen, just under a year ago. The dark priests, the propaganda golems, the magisterial oppression, it's all still there. People outside the city don't even have a voice; people in it are afraid to use theirs, lest the words end up being somebody else's. There are plenty of real loyalists, but plenty more are just scared into submission."
After a moment's silent consideration, she checks the ink, rolls up the parchment and gives it to her raven, Omen, who has been observing the exchange with an inscrutable look on his avian features. The bird takes it in his beak, stows it in a pouch and takes off, vanishing into the shadows before he even reaches the window.
Eventually she speaks again. "I spent more than a decade fighting for my people as part of the Horde. I've grown to like many of the people in it. I used to go drinking with a couple of Goblins whenever I was in Ratchet; a Troll gave his life to save mine, and I never even knew his name; the stories go on and on. I don't hate the Horde, and fighting them now is so painful... Every soldier I cut down might be a loving mother, a brother, a lover to somebody back home.
"But above all else, I still love my people. Every child of Quel'thalas, no matter their color or what they call themselves. I want the best for them, and for a long time I thought that meant keeping them safe in the Horde because there was no other option. At least then we'd have allies. At least then we'd survive. But... for how long? How long do we keep surviving, while our souls slip further and further with every atrocity?"
For the first time that evening, Talraea turns to face Cathrion. Her gaze is steady, despite the quiver in her voice that surfaces now and then. "I am doing everything in my power to keep my people from harm, even now. When I'm not out there proving my worth and gaining allies in the Alliance, I'm using the favor I've won to argue non-stop for any alternative, and making those alternatives possible. I'm recruiting allies, laying the foundation for whatever we might do next.
"Maybe one day I'll walk those streets again without dark priests and echoing golems terrorizing those who don't fall in line. Maybe my people can be together again, or at least not trying to kill each other. Maybe they'll even join me, though I hardly dare to dream of it. But that day won't come if we tell ourselves that the way things are is the best we can hope for. Because the way things are... they're horrible."
She stands up, her movements still as graceful as ever despite her barely-concealed emotional distress. "I respect you, Cathrion. I really do. And you're right, we do have a common goal. We want our people to flourish, and we know that can't happen while a mad, undead cult leader strives to end all life. But they still serve that cult leader. They're still blinded by propaganda and silenced by fear. I can't be content with just protecting my people anymore.
"And with or without you, I'm going to save them."
IC
As Cathrion speaks, Talraea doesn't look up. She's at her desk in an inn in Stormsong, writing something out in a coded language that likely originated far away from Azeroth. Her quill barely scratches with the soft, elegant strokes of Elven calligraphy. Eventually, unhurried, she puts down the quill, caps the inkwell and sets the paper down to let the inks dry.
The Void Elf takes a deep breath. When she speaks her tone is collected, but not truly calm - as if she's not so much confident as tired. Her voice echoes with tears already shed, arguments shouted and curses laid. "I remember when they brought in the dark priests," she says quietly. "The ones who answer when someone in Silvermoon voices dissent. I remember watching them twist public speakers into puppets right in front of peoples' eyes, flaunting their power. It must sound rich for me to complain about dark magic, but the way they used it terrified me.
"I was in Silvermoon as a citizen, just under a year ago. The dark priests, the propaganda golems, the magisterial oppression, it's all still there. People outside the city don't even have a voice; people in it are afraid to use theirs, lest the words end up being somebody else's. There are plenty of real loyalists, but plenty more are just scared into submission."
After a moment's silent consideration, she checks the ink, rolls up the parchment and gives it to her raven, Omen, who has been observing the exchange with an inscrutable look on his avian features. The bird takes it in his beak, stows it in a pouch and takes off, vanishing into the shadows before he even reaches the window.
Eventually she speaks again. "I spent more than a decade fighting for my people as part of the Horde. I've grown to like many of the people in it. I used to go drinking with a couple of Goblins whenever I was in Ratchet; a Troll gave his life to save mine, and I never even knew his name; the stories go on and on. I don't hate the Horde, and fighting them now is so painful... Every soldier I cut down might be a loving mother, a brother, a lover to somebody back home.
"But above all else, I still love my people. Every child of Quel'thalas, no matter their color or what they call themselves. I want the best for them, and for a long time I thought that meant keeping them safe in the Horde because there was no other option. At least then we'd have allies. At least then we'd survive. But... for how long? How long do we keep surviving, while our souls slip further and further with every atrocity?"
For the first time that evening, Talraea turns to face Cathrion. Her gaze is steady, despite the quiver in her voice that surfaces now and then. "I am doing everything in my power to keep my people from harm, even now. When I'm not out there proving my worth and gaining allies in the Alliance, I'm using the favor I've won to argue non-stop for any alternative, and making those alternatives possible. I'm recruiting allies, laying the foundation for whatever we might do next.
"Maybe one day I'll walk those streets again without dark priests and echoing golems terrorizing those who don't fall in line. Maybe my people can be together again, or at least not trying to kill each other. Maybe they'll even join me, though I hardly dare to dream of it. But that day won't come if we tell ourselves that the way things are is the best we can hope for. Because the way things are... they're horrible."
She stands up, her movements still as graceful as ever despite her barely-concealed emotional distress. "I respect you, Cathrion. I really do. And you're right, we do have a common goal. We want our people to flourish, and we know that can't happen while a mad, undead cult leader strives to end all life. But they still serve that cult leader. They're still blinded by propaganda and silenced by fear. I can't be content with just protecting my people anymore.
"And with or without you, I'm going to save them."
Unable to not overhear the conversation between both elven women, the demon huntress decides to aproach both.
"I will probably get chastised for oh so many reasons begining on what I have become and the path I have taken, or how I have been away far too long to be in the knowledge to even speak. But I do have my opinions and my beliefs and I will be vocal about them."
The blonde horned elf inhales for a bit and putting both her hands on the table leans over a bit towards the others.
"Even to today there is nothing I desire more than the safety of our home. I was a farstrider once and that is what I fought for. I went with the prince to Outland because that's what I was fighting for. I joined Illidan's ranks at the prince's behest because that's what I was fighting for. Even if his will faltered and he gave in to the enemy, I have and will not."
She stops once more, her head shifting between both Cathrion and Talrea.
"All of our methods and the path we take to achieve our common goal may be quite different. But at the end of the line, our desires at the same. If any suceeds, no matter how that aproach may be, then...I shall knowing that our home is safe. And I shall die happily."
"I will probably get chastised for oh so many reasons begining on what I have become and the path I have taken, or how I have been away far too long to be in the knowledge to even speak. But I do have my opinions and my beliefs and I will be vocal about them."
The blonde horned elf inhales for a bit and putting both her hands on the table leans over a bit towards the others.
"Even to today there is nothing I desire more than the safety of our home. I was a farstrider once and that is what I fought for. I went with the prince to Outland because that's what I was fighting for. I joined Illidan's ranks at the prince's behest because that's what I was fighting for. Even if his will faltered and he gave in to the enemy, I have and will not."
She stops once more, her head shifting between both Cathrion and Talrea.
"All of our methods and the path we take to achieve our common goal may be quite different. But at the end of the line, our desires at the same. If any suceeds, no matter how that aproach may be, then...I shall knowing that our home is safe. And I shall die happily."
Wandering past the inn during her journey to some place, Laurenn can't help but overhear the three elves speaking of Quel'Thalas. She's heard the details rather briefly, so she walks over in order to enquire about their conversation. She of course says every single word in Thalassian, to possibly prevent someone unwanted to overhear the talks.
"Bal'a dash... are those Humans truly attempting to pull out a Battle of Silvermoon? If that's truly the case... consider me ready to protect Quel'Thalas. I couldn't care less about either the Alliance or the Horde. But Quel'Thalas... Quel'Thalas is home."
Before saying any further words, Laurenn sheds a single tear. It falls down the young elf's cheek, she wipes it off halfway through in hope no one has noticed.
"We should rather attempt to prevent it, make the Alliance's military either not continue with such plans or prevent their assault the earliest we could through warning the forces of our homeland. I'm around Stormwind rather often, might as well follow around the military-aligned types and try learn when they're attempting to attack Silvermoon."
OOC: Damn, got sniped by Elyssa! Can't reply to her, considering her post is just a placeholder right now. Sorry!
"Bal'a dash... are those Humans truly attempting to pull out a Battle of Silvermoon? If that's truly the case... consider me ready to protect Quel'Thalas. I couldn't care less about either the Alliance or the Horde. But Quel'Thalas... Quel'Thalas is home."
Before saying any further words, Laurenn sheds a single tear. It falls down the young elf's cheek, she wipes it off halfway through in hope no one has noticed.
"We should rather attempt to prevent it, make the Alliance's military either not continue with such plans or prevent their assault the earliest we could through warning the forces of our homeland. I'm around Stormwind rather often, might as well follow around the military-aligned types and try learn when they're attempting to attack Silvermoon."
OOC: Damn, got sniped by Elyssa! Can't reply to her, considering her post is just a placeholder right now. Sorry!
A tall figure approaches the huddle of Sin'dorei and Ren'dorei and passes by, clutching a cluster of crimson-soaked rags. Initially she ignores the group but does a double-take at seeing familiar faces, and approaches the group again. Elyssa's ears twitch at hearing treasonous talk and she scoffs.
Turning to one member, the Warden looks the demon huntress up and down approvingly, ''One of Kael'thas' men and women? I had no idea, yet a great period of time ago we likely met.'' Elyssa merely shrugs and glances down at the rags. Hastily she covers a neat crest. ''Choice. You chose one extreme against another, Lirúthien. I will not hold it against you. You have more than compensated for poor choices, against the Legion.''
She gently pats the huntress on the shoulder twice and turns to one of the (familiar) Rendorei.
''It would be pointless for me to tell you that what you just did may cost you greatly further down the road. You already know this. '' She sighs and takes off her owl-helmet, watching the fiery mage with a glimmer of sadness in her eyes, not of pity but of an almost motherly nature, ''I could tell you how to save yourself great deal of pain, but you would not listen. I could slay you where you stand, and another homesick Ren'dorei would take you place. And I could turn you in, and they might make an example of you. But none of these things will change what is coming. And I know this, because I have been where you stand now.''
Elyssa leans a hand over and affectionately ruffles Laurenn's ears. Her eyes dart at a patch of moisture and blink once, slowly. ''I do not believe that the objective of Silvermoon is to raze the city, if that is comforting. Only to occupy it. Many will die, but only to save a greater number further down the line.''
Turning to one member, the Warden looks the demon huntress up and down approvingly, ''One of Kael'thas' men and women? I had no idea, yet a great period of time ago we likely met.'' Elyssa merely shrugs and glances down at the rags. Hastily she covers a neat crest. ''Choice. You chose one extreme against another, Lirúthien. I will not hold it against you. You have more than compensated for poor choices, against the Legion.''
She gently pats the huntress on the shoulder twice and turns to one of the (familiar) Rendorei.
''It would be pointless for me to tell you that what you just did may cost you greatly further down the road. You already know this. '' She sighs and takes off her owl-helmet, watching the fiery mage with a glimmer of sadness in her eyes, not of pity but of an almost motherly nature, ''I could tell you how to save yourself great deal of pain, but you would not listen. I could slay you where you stand, and another homesick Ren'dorei would take you place. And I could turn you in, and they might make an example of you. But none of these things will change what is coming. And I know this, because I have been where you stand now.''
Elyssa leans a hand over and affectionately ruffles Laurenn's ears. Her eyes dart at a patch of moisture and blink once, slowly. ''I do not believe that the objective of Silvermoon is to raze the city, if that is comforting. Only to occupy it. Many will die, but only to save a greater number further down the line.''
Lazily floating by, the Magister hums.
"Implying that serving Kael'thas was a poor choice. It was but his final hour, that he succumbed to weakness. Of course, unlike your kind, he had the good graces to remain off of this mortal coil.
You threaten your own new allies, you wear the mark of necromancy, and wield the powers of death- yet try to claim a moral highground. A submission unto hypocrisy as Kaldorei are prone to. It seems that your state of undeath, may have infact twisted your mind further.
Now, please, do eradicate yourself, and save the Alliance the trouble of doing it themselves? After all, I thought the alliance were supposed to be, civilised, and infallible yes?"
"Implying that serving Kael'thas was a poor choice. It was but his final hour, that he succumbed to weakness. Of course, unlike your kind, he had the good graces to remain off of this mortal coil.
You threaten your own new allies, you wear the mark of necromancy, and wield the powers of death- yet try to claim a moral highground. A submission unto hypocrisy as Kaldorei are prone to. It seems that your state of undeath, may have infact twisted your mind further.
Now, please, do eradicate yourself, and save the Alliance the trouble of doing it themselves? After all, I thought the alliance were supposed to be, civilised, and infallible yes?"
Nendrovus overhears the whole "discussion" as he begins to pack his things from his stall to call it a night and skip town. He hears the magister blatantly tell the warden to kill herself, and sees oppurtunity to sell some weird pills he found and has been trying to part with.
The conman approaches Aetius with his cane in hand and shimmies up next to the disgruntled mage. Nendrovus is sightly apprehensive, but common sense is not something this Nightborne knows much of. So he begins.
"Hehey! You! I couldn't help but notice you're looking a bit worked up here, but don't worry, I'm sure its 100% justified! But you know, it never hurts to be safe! I know firsthand! But anyway, we all have our problems but like... you just gotta relax every now and then! Which is why, I, a humble salesman is here to offer you and only you an amazing deal! I have these candies you see? They taste great! I assure you, but other than tasting absolutely fantastic, they can also help you, the uh... what's your name, again?"
Nendrovus puts his arm around Aetius's shoulders "Eh, doesn't matter! Well it does, but that's not the point! The point here is these treats can make your life feel so good! So happy! And I'm offering you them for the low price of 4 gold and 25 silver! That's a steal in my eyes! That's practically pocket change for somebody of such amazing status as yourself! And I know you want some rest from your possibly MASSIVELY stressful life!"
Nendrovus waggles his eyebrows before fiddling with the "candies". waiting for a response.
The conman approaches Aetius with his cane in hand and shimmies up next to the disgruntled mage. Nendrovus is sightly apprehensive, but common sense is not something this Nightborne knows much of. So he begins.
"Hehey! You! I couldn't help but notice you're looking a bit worked up here, but don't worry, I'm sure its 100% justified! But you know, it never hurts to be safe! I know firsthand! But anyway, we all have our problems but like... you just gotta relax every now and then! Which is why, I, a humble salesman is here to offer you and only you an amazing deal! I have these candies you see? They taste great! I assure you, but other than tasting absolutely fantastic, they can also help you, the uh... what's your name, again?"
Nendrovus puts his arm around Aetius's shoulders "Eh, doesn't matter! Well it does, but that's not the point! The point here is these treats can make your life feel so good! So happy! And I'm offering you them for the low price of 4 gold and 25 silver! That's a steal in my eyes! That's practically pocket change for somebody of such amazing status as yourself! And I know you want some rest from your possibly MASSIVELY stressful life!"
Nendrovus waggles his eyebrows before fiddling with the "candies". waiting for a response.
"If candy makes yer happy, how come people with nae teeth are miserable?"
Khadmag taps his head.
Khadmag taps his head.
Taven stumbles slightly towards Khadmag, Brewfest beer stein in hand, clearly already somewhat inebriated. Looking between Nendrovus and the Dwarf, he points towards the son of a Thane with his thumb, grinning in the direction of the Shal'dorei before speaking. "This guy, huh? Eh? This guuuuuuy!"
After a slight stagger backwards, he takes another step forward to steady himself once again before wagging a finger at Khadmag in a manner as if to indicate that he knows something. "Y'shut that shyster down somethin' vicious, man! Up there fer thinkin' down there fer dancin', huh?!"
Taven then attempts to do a little jig for a moment, but the human's coordination is quite off due to his previous consumption of alcohol, leading to him tripping over himself and crashing to the floor just in front of Khadmag … he does, however, manage to keep his stein facing upwards so no drop of beer is spilled, although in order to do this, he fails to brace himself for the fall, his head bouncing against the ground. "N'yugh … saved m'pint … they call that Dwarven reflexes … ugh …"
The human then passes out from his tumble, ironically, leading to the grip on his stein loosened, resulting in it falling over, accidentally decanting its contents into the soil at Khadmag's feet.
After a slight stagger backwards, he takes another step forward to steady himself once again before wagging a finger at Khadmag in a manner as if to indicate that he knows something. "Y'shut that shyster down somethin' vicious, man! Up there fer thinkin' down there fer dancin', huh?!"
Taven then attempts to do a little jig for a moment, but the human's coordination is quite off due to his previous consumption of alcohol, leading to him tripping over himself and crashing to the floor just in front of Khadmag … he does, however, manage to keep his stein facing upwards so no drop of beer is spilled, although in order to do this, he fails to brace himself for the fall, his head bouncing against the ground. "N'yugh … saved m'pint … they call that Dwarven reflexes … ugh …"
The human then passes out from his tumble, ironically, leading to the grip on his stein loosened, resulting in it falling over, accidentally decanting its contents into the soil at Khadmag's feet.
"Somebody's been drinking...." *The paladin pauses, slowly doubling over to push Taven up, as he begins the arduous journey towards the nearby Inn. "Lets find you a proper bed, eh, lad?"
As the road takes him past the elven gathering, he turns his head in the opposite direction, lips curling into a slight smile, as he pretends not to hear or see any of it. One might notice that the Alliance tabard is brand new, while the Argent Crusade symbols on his armor are much older and heavily worn out.......
As the road takes him past the elven gathering, he turns his head in the opposite direction, lips curling into a slight smile, as he pretends not to hear or see any of it. One might notice that the Alliance tabard is brand new, while the Argent Crusade symbols on his armor are much older and heavily worn out.......
"Hey, sir! I've been meaning to thank you for, you know, bailing me out of that impossible discussion about conciousnessess. Let me buy you a drink sometime. Just, ah, let's not overdo it like that one."
Rorick nods at poor Taven.
"So, ah, you a Dwarven ale kind of man? It is Brewfest after all."
Rorick nods at poor Taven.
"So, ah, you a Dwarven ale kind of man? It is Brewfest after all."
Upon hearing Rorick mention the old discussion, Alizael creeps closer, and gently whispers-
"Step into my parlour, said the spider to the fly."
"Step into my parlour, said the spider to the fly."
At overhearing Alizael, Ikaallu facepalms, with both hands. And then the tail for extra measure...is that a facetail?
''I dislike proving my superiors wrong and you are not helping that.'' She continues to cover her face and pretend that she never saw the void elf.
''I dislike proving my superiors wrong and you are not helping that.'' She continues to cover her face and pretend that she never saw the void elf.
A joyous laughter takes shape behind Ikaallu as Tureemos walks over, patting her on the back.
"Worry not of this one, she is... Mostly harmless!"
He points towards Alizael with his spear before nodding to her in a greeting.
"She is researcher and philosopher. She shared much information about The Void and what danger it be in wrong hands to the Vanguard I give aid to! I would trust her with my life if need be."
"Worry not of this one, she is... Mostly harmless!"
He points towards Alizael with his spear before nodding to her in a greeting.
"She is researcher and philosopher. She shared much information about The Void and what danger it be in wrong hands to the Vanguard I give aid to! I would trust her with my life if need be."