Kk's Corner of Azeroth

     The sky was rent apart. Osric stood once more alongside the Knights of the Ebon Blade, staring up into the rift. Duty calls. The next moment are spent alongside knights, fighting the forces of this being known at the Jailer. It’s all a blur, another battle among the countless that Osric has flung himself into over the years in the name of duty...

     In a flash, the paladin found himself on the outskirts of an otherworldly city which appeared to be floating in a vast glittering... expanse. There was scarcely any other way to describe what he was seeing. Floating, robed figures guided the man into the structure, to meet with another floating, robed figure. The voice coming from this one was airy and echoing.

     “Welcome... to Oribos, mortal.” The being makes a sweeping motion with one robed... arm? Yes. “Your kind is still an oddity here, but we find the realms of the Shadowlands in need of skills such as yours.”

     Osric has had no time to process what has happened in the last... he doesn’t know how long. “You do? I had... gathered as much. Which realm is in need of my sort of aid...?”

     A searching gaze studies the elf as he stands there, giving a thoughtful, melodic hum. “I believe you would be a good fit for Bastion’s problems... the wyrm master on the upper level can secure you transport. Report to Kalisthene once you arrive. I am certain there is no shortage of tasks they will need completed to bolster their realm.”

     Osric gives a nod and a cordial bow, making his way into the central chamber of Oribos and marveling for a moment at the city’s center, awed. It takes him a minute, but he figures out how to ascend to the second tier of the city and makes his way to the... wyrm master? Yes. This large, robed figure sets him upon a golden saddle that fills out with a bright light, into a worm-like shape, before carrying Osric through a nearby gate and along an energy stream of some sort.

     The trip through the space between Oribos and Bastion fills the paladin with a sense of dread. Something lurked out beyond the bounds of these realms, watching. Hungering. And he could sense it. Ugh! As he passed through the barrier into Bastion proper, however, a wholly different feeling began to consume him.

     Awe.

     The beauty of this place stunned him, reminded him in some small ways of the forests of Eversong when he was young, except ethereal. How strange. Soon enough, the wyrm-thing lands him in some floating ... cathedral? He’s not sure how to describe the place otherwise. But as he begins to wander, a squat owl-person approaches him.

     “Yoo-hoo! You must be new! Kalisthene said expect new friend soon!” The creature chirps, waving a wing-arm quickly and guiding Osric elsewhere within the structure, shortly finding himself being brought before a blue-skinned, winged humanoid, floating gracefully before them. The owl-person excuses itself, leaving the elf to take care of introductions on his own.

     “Ah... I am Osric Whitetower, you must be Kalisthene.” Osric says, polite and offering a bow. “I was sent to offer my service to your realm.”

     “So generous...” The Kyrian says. “Welcome to Bastion, Osric. Here, souls train to rid themselves of burdening memories so that they can be the ferries for souls from the mortal realm to the after life without passing judgment of their own. The Arbiter knows best, after all.”

     Osric nods along as the Shadowlands are explained to him by the Kyrian, as Kalisthene explains that is what she is. Then he notices Kalisthene is giving him a... strange look. “Is... something the matter...?”

     “Whitetower... your name is familiar.” The Kyrian begins. “Some of your kin have passed through our temples in their training, some time ago... but there was one other... I sense great burden upon your soul, Osric. Before you can help us, I think you should take some time to help yourself. Go to the Temple of Courage. Someone is waiting for you.”

     The paladin can feel his heart stop at how easily he’s read by Kalisthene. The words don’t come, and instead he just shakily nods, returning to the flight master with the help of another of those owls... called Stewards, he was told. He secures a ride on the back of a flying lion to the Temple of Courage. The creature lets him off and sits in the... grass? Yes. He enters the Temple, looking about expectantly. Who was he looking for? Why was someone in the afterlife waiting for him?

     And then he hears her voice.

     “OSRIC!” Comes the call, and he turns just barely in time to see his fiancee rushing forwards from elsewhere to give him a hug, the force of which causes the paladin to stagger. Well, that and seeing her again. He’s stunned. “I heard someone was coming to the Temple and had to meet them, but I can’t believe it’s really you! Oh, Light... did you...?”

     He flounders somewhat, not done processing everything else, and being suddenly hit with seeing the old love of his life again is doing a number on him as old metaphorical wounds reopen. “I’m... not dead yet...” He manages to squeak.

     “Oh, good! You know... I... hold on, let’s get you sat down, okay?” She guides him to a nearby bench, sitting him down, and sitting beside him, wearing a small, worried smile. She places a hand on his own, as they sit resting on his lap. “You weren’t expecting to see me, were you?”

     Osric shakes his head, regaining a measure of his composure as he replies. “No, I wasn’t. To say this comes as a surprise is an understatement, but I’m glad to know your soul is well, Tariel... It’s comforting.”

     Tariel bites her lip a little, watching Osric closely. “It wasn’t your fault, you know. There was nothing anyone could have done for me.”

     The paladin stares at her, wide-eyed. He looses a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, casting his eyes to the pastel skies of Bastion. She’s right. “I... I know that, sunshine. I hadn’t quite realized how heavily it was still weighing me down.”

     “I’ve been learning from the Kyrian on how to let go, but I couldn’t let go of my memories of you, not yet.” She says, sighing. “My love. I’ve often watched over you from here, when time would allow it, and I found myself saddened at how you’ve been treating yourself. You don’t allow yourself rest, or friendship, or anything, and all you do is work, and serve others.”

     Osric looks back to Tariel now, taking a deep breath, tears starting to well up a bit in his eyes as he allows himself to confront these feelings and realizations. He finds himself drawn into a hug as he replies. “I... suppose I held a hope that the service I gave would make up for failing to protect you, even though I know we could not have possibly done any better in our flight from Tranquilien.”

     “Oh, dear heart...” Tariel sighs. “You need to take care of yourself. You need to move on, forgive yourself for your perceived failings, and live. I couldn’t possibly ascend knowing you were overworking yourself like this. You deserve to be happy, Osric.“

     For a long while, the paladin says nothing, instead content to hold his fiancee and sob silently as the emotions wash over him. Tariel comforts him, glad that at least he’s facing his feelings and not hiding away.

     “Sunshine...” He says finally, softly, wearing a small smile despite it all. The paladin rests his forehead against Tariel’s, closing his eyes briefly. “I’d like to enjoy this moment while we have it. We both have obligations to fulfill, but you are right, and something that would make me happy right now is if we took a walk together, like we used to do in Eversong. We don’t have to talk about anything specific... I just would very much like to share your presence for a while once more, in this place.”

     Tariel smiles, standing from the bench and offering her hand to Osric and wordlessly inviting him to walk with her. His smile gains in strength as he accepts her invitation, and they walk together throughout the temple, talking. Catching up, laughing, and enjoying this familiar-feeling time together after so long apart. Osric knows what Kalisthene meant now by helping himself before he could help Bastion; he needed to do his own bit of letting go. But for no-one except himself.

     “Tariel... sunshine.” Osric says as they return to where they started from on their walk, taking her hands in his own. He gives a great sigh, as if a burden’s lifting away from him. “I promise. I’ll take good care of myself, and give you no more cause to worry for me. Our paths have separated, and I’ve accepted that truth, saddening as it is. I will move on, for that reason, but more-so because I do... owe it to myself to take a break. From working, from grieving, everything. And I’ll see to it that I take those breaks.”

     Grinning, Tariel gives him a bit of a rough pat on the back and chuckles. “Good! You had better keep such a lofty promise to yourself most of all, dear heart. I’m going to be paying attention to make sure that you do!”

     This causes the paladin to chuckle and shake his head. “I’ve got no choice now! Okay, okay... thank you for the walk, sunshine. I’ll treasure this moment.”

     “Treasure it for the both of us, and live your life.” Tariel says, tone slightly stern before she smiles. “Why don’t you head back to Kalisthene and see where she needs you?”

     Osric gives a great sigh, for once feeling quite light-hearted. “I’ll do that. Farewell, my love.”

     “Sun shine warmly upon you, dear heart.” Tariel calls to him as he mounts the flying lion thing again and takes off, waving him good-bye.

     It had finally happened. Someone had managed to capture Gerlix. Sure, it was due to deception and betrayal, but still someone had captured him. Turned him in for one of the many bounties on his head, a supposed friend and confidant had. So much for that, he seethes. Trusting someone else was always a risk.

     And, gambler that he is, Gerlix has now found himself in chains in some backwater port town run by rival pirates. Slavers, he reminds himself. The reason they were on his ass is because he constantly raided their own ships to free what they so inhumanely considered to be cargo.

     Don’t deal in lives, Gerlix. A voice in his head echoes as he’s brought before the kingpin of these pirates. That’s not a path you can ever fully escape from.

     “So, yer th’little pain-in-me-arse Captain Sootbeard, are ya?” Comes the husky voice of a rather round human man, sat on a chair that looked about ready to give up at the sheer mass that it was attempting to support. It was clear the kingpin rarely did any of his own work, and Gerlix thought that shameful. “Well? Speak up!”

     “Aye, tha’s me.” He snarls, feigning struggle against the chains to feel the weight of them. He’s thinking. Gerlix has to escape somehow; these slavers weren’t going to keep him in chains for long. “Yer in over yer ‘ead, big man, capturin’ me. I let yer goons bring me ‘ere.”

     An uproarious laugh shatters the choked silence that follows Gerlix’s brazen words. The kingpin gives the Gnome a wicked smile. “That so? It’ll be even more of a riot breakin’ yer spirit fer ‘ow ya’v fucked wit’ us, Sootbeard. Can’t wait ta erase that self-righteous attitude’v yers. Take ‘im back outside. Oh, an’ get the ‘orses, boys.”

     Horses? Uh oh. Immediately, he begins to think about how he can get out of these bonds. His attention is turned to his amulet, stuffed away in a pocket that they hadn’t thought to search. Was it time? Sooty hadn’t tried this trick before, but anything was better than what the kingpin had in store for him. He feigns struggle as he’s dragged out into the center of the terrified pirate-run town. Defiantly he glares up at the kingpin as the man waddles his way out to stand looming over the Gnome.

     “Got any last words ‘fore I draw’n quarter ya?” The kingpin sneers, leaning down to grab Sooty’s face in his hand and talk far, far too close. Ugh.

      Sooty betrays not his true feelings. He’s afraid, but all the kingpin is met with is a dogged sort of bravado. The little pirate can feel the power of the amulet close by, close enough to draw upon. It bolsters his courage, and he spits, “Ya might wanna back up a tad, ‘s ‘boutta get a bit hot ‘round ‘ere.”

     “Bah! Y’can’t do a damn thin’. Hook ‘im up, boys.” The kingpin takes a couple steps back regardless.

     A pity. Sooty thinks to himself as he feels the power of the amulet flow to its peak. He throws his head to the sky as he feels his heartbeat sync with the amulet’s. A connection has been made, one he hasn’t felt in a little while. From his back spark and sprout flaming wings, brilliantly bright and colorful. The pirate’s metal bonds turn white-hot and begin to melt as flames lick up his arms. It’s not long before the Gnome looks fare more like a bird-shaped bonfire, the bonds and his form having apparently been completely replaced by a blazing Phoenix.