“Oh that’s sweet, good sir!” - whispered Yanneck, overacting so loud that his words could be heard on the other side of the inn. - “I’m flattered by all of you, the Horde’s people, complementing our tea, musical talents and valor in battle. Just stay that way so when we wake up, we don’t backstab each other. Don’t look at me that way, I’m not going to do it. A rogue’s word!”
That said, Gilnean rogue finishes his cup of tea.
"Anyone else ready for the second round of the singing contest? Let me clear my throat…
When Genny comes marching home this time,
Hurrah! Hurrah!
We’ll carry him on our arms as one,
Hurrah! Hurrah!
The boys will cheer, the wolves will howl,
And all Gilneans will join their hands,
And we’ll all praise the Light
When Genny comes marching home!"
Yanneck unconsciously searches for a harp, but when he doesn’t find one, he instantly starts to gaze upon his feasting colleagues’ backpacks.
“That song is actualy much more solemn and sad, but I don’t feel grief today. Let us party as long as Sylvanas puts the “runner” in Windrunner!” - he laughs.
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“Not a bad idea human.”
Erah calls for the bartender.
“Bartender a jug of milk!”
After receiving the jug of milk. Erah stands up raising his glass to give a speech.
“Though the world is dying and many died in this war. let us for today, forget about our miseries.”
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Talraea takes a deep breath, then lets it out slowly. “Don’t get me wrong,” she says calmly, “you were always creepy, but now it’s getting into ‘stalker’ territory and I am not okay with that. Please respect my boundaries or I will send your various body parts to different corners of the Twisting Nether.”
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Dimisra lets out a loud laugh, almost spilling a little of her whiskey,
“She’s completely nuts that one” she says to Talraea, nodding towards Zymara,
“I will stay and see how this plays out.”
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“Let’s se… the Draenei? Glowing white/blue eyes
The Ren’dorei? Glowing ice blue eyes
You Dimisra? Glowing ember eyes
And me? ghostly blue , you guessed it, glowing eyes…
Welcome in the “I can read in the dark with these!” club… one of usss… one of usss… anyhow, next round on me bartender!
For them.
I never drink… wine”
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“Eyes alight are a pan-Elven trait. All the way from our earliest Kaldorei ancestors, our natural attunement to magic - of one sort or another - expresses itself in these beautiful orbs of light. Of course it manifests in other races closely tied to magic. Dark Iron Dwarves have elemental fire in their blood, and Draenei were naturals with the arcane even before they were touched by the Light. And you, well, you’re a powerful undead being. It naturally follows.”
“Oh yah… Elves be first wit de shiny eyes… Pfft!”
looks at Talraea from nearby.
“Ya know wat dey say… de original done et de best.”
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“Eyes are so, so overrated these days…”
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“So can you see colors? Like, red and yellow, and everything?”
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Zirahael gazes at the Ralrush for a moment, her face turning into a frown.
"We can see more than we wish to at times… "
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“Girl, I know how you feel… you know… sometimes…”
He loooks around, and whispers
“I see dead people…”
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"Who would’ve have thought, selling yourself to dark forces has consequences. who would’ve have thought… "
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Selling ourselves implies we had a choice…
“They said they had cookies… but it was a lie. Jokes aside, its very hard to become a Death Knight by choice. Maybe, maybe if you are that desperate and manage to kill a Death Knight AND take his cursed rune blade, maybe then… but even then there is no guarantee the blade’s unholy powers would slowly drain your life and soul, 'till you quietly become the former member of the living, but not really dead… Most of us never had a choice.”
He growls a bit
"Its not like, “Hey, let’s drink this demon blood for cool powers and sell our whole race and future… then fail miserably at the first conquer effort”
The Worgen narrows his eyes as he watch the Orc, then nodes to the Tauren
"Noble brother in Death… remind me if I would forget, to wait that one on the Other Side, when his times comes and make him an offer… "
At some point during the discussion, Rush’s eyes begin to glaze over from all the details and history. In between sips of milk he’d ordered with Erahe and whiskey he’d ordered with Dimisra, he misses most of the context for what everyone else was saying. With a clueless look in his eyes, he stares at Frosthowler for a few seconds and blinks while trying to process the story.
“So…why did you choose to become a death knight?” he asks as if he hadn’t even been listening.
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After several moments of exasperated silence, Talraea sighs, hops up onto a table and smacks Ralrush upside the back of his head. “Boy, you serve the Loa of Stupid,” she says simply.
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Juh’juh, also not really paying attention and being focused more on fixing his hair, glances for a split second away from his zoning out. He hears something about “Loa of stupid” and chuckles uncontrollably.
“Chahaha mon! How loa can you go-a?” He shouts over to the general direction he heard it from and then goes back to his hair like nothing happened.
Kalu’cha looks down while rubbing the bridge of her nose and lets out a long sigh.
“Dat joke no been fun de first time et said, nor de thousand times aftah.”
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Sila’s still sitting there, sipping the fragrant, fruity, tea, a second cup waiting for Talraea. She just lets the trolls do their thing, a slightly amused smile on her face. “I can appreciate a good pun, but… well, emphasis on good pun.”
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Let’s live before die…