Pain struck sharp and clear as Sevlaz's eyes opened again, the sleepy groan coming more as a whisper than what it should have. It didn't sound like his voice at all as he blinked a few times looking into the face of the horned elf.
"Seven for Sevlaz is quite poetic and honestly, my last chance for you," the white bearded creature spoke, though there was more of an edge to his tone than he remembered. Everything felt so off.
The creature leaned forward, close enough to be mere inches from the orc's face as he spoke softly but with the force of a hurricane.
"Hell is repetition, Sevlaz. And I am sorry for making you have to live it over and over again. But I will not put this on you unless you truly want it," the creature spoke oddly and cryptically. "I have offered this to many before you and I will undoubtedly offer it again to many after. But you all will always have a choice. I want you to be a part of this. I feel you will be a great asset to our cause. You trained one of my greatest and I cannot imagine you would fail where they succeeded."
Golden eyes of sand and glass stared into dull red as he continued to speak quickly. "Join me. Help my cause. Help my lord. Hear the Word."
The Word. They made it sound like it was something important or something more than just, well a word. He was so tired. To sleep would be for the best. How much more could he do? And if this thing knew anything about him, why in the world would it think he would do the right thing? Sevlaz was a thief. A pirate. A traitor. A murderer.
A survivor.
"Sevlaz."
The red eyes peered up at him again.
"I don't want to influence you, but I don't want to lie to you either," the creature spoke softly again, this time bearing an edge of sincerity that belied the former edge. "You need to know."
"They live."
@daily-writing-challenge
Noell Gallina flicked a chunk of mango from the orc's shoulder with a mixture of disgust and amusement at the other's misfortune this morning. The blood elf was dressed as always in her patrol uniform bearing the tabard of her station within Orgrimmar but hints of her former past within Silvermoon City with the shield and sword of her homeland. The Horde were not one to forget one's heritage but asked to dwell on the future more so than one's past.
Easier said than done.
But try she must and so she was given this task by Quel'thalas command. When originally given the task it had felt more like exile in to the heart of those who had ruined her own and many other lives. She could still smell the burning vines from those years ago and could still see the soulless blue eyes of the fallen as her world was taken in fire. Orcs, trolls, and the dead. The world was strange.
"So you say you tripped into this stall Master....?" Noell spoke calmly, folding her arms across her chest as she took inventory of the orc.
He wasn't like most orcs. Of course he was green with red eyes as was standard to the dominate race of the Horde, but his manners and dress were more akin to her own people than the usual barbarian garb of his own. His size didn't say much either as he seemed a bit thinner and smaller than the grunts she butted heads with on patrol, but who knows what age really did to an orc judging by the grey hair on his face. And a face it was.
Burn scars crossed a majority of it with matching scars of undoubtedly violent means created an obvious tapestry of violence. The most obvious and gruesome of the bunch though was the missing flap of skin where his upper lip should be leaving behind a crude and unsettling grin of sorts. No one should smile all the time like that. The elf had to stifle the pang of sympathy for him as she waited for his answers.
"Sevlaz," the orc answered eyeing his shoulder where she'd flicked the broken mango from. "And yeah, tripped and rolled hard right into it. Lucky didn't break my leg or arm suppose. Wrist might be another matter."
Noell did her best not to match the roll of his hand to her eyes as she stared at him listening, her eyes moving from him to the damage and back. Never a dull moment in the capital as she looked back over her shoulder to her partner.
Nianani, a Zandalari soldier fresh off the boat, listened much like she was to the fruit vendor. Noell had figured she'd have better luck with the troll than she would. Bad blood had a habit of souring any story. The large woman was patiently listening and asking questions of the hunched Darkspear, red hair flaring and hands flying about to emphasis his losses. Gallina sighed and looked back to Sevlaz who was still muttering about old wounds and sprained bones or something. Clearly not a healer.
Or truthful.
"Alright, alright," Noell broke her arms free to raise them to Sevlaz. "I think you'll be alright but this mess is not going to be alright. I trust you can afford to pay for the damages?"
"Pay?" The orc stopped immediately at the mention of money. Figures.
"Yes, you are responsible for this and the damages will need to be covered."
"How much?"
"That would be between you two," Noell motioned to the vendor and then returned her violet eyes to Sevlaz. "As I said I trust you will cover the damages and remain civil in this dispute."
Steel entered the red eyes of the orc for a few moments, his ugly mouth set in what should have been a grimace only emphasised the lack of lips to the creature. Noell frowned back enough for them both.
Finally, he seemed to have broke and waved it off. "Yeah I got it."
"Good," the elf nodding as she leveled off her authoritative demeanor, which for some reason she had not noticed her hand leaving the pommel of her sword. Bad habits.
Dangerous habits.
"I'll leave you to it then," Noell turned away from Sevlaz, her eyes meeting that of her partners who nodded and spoke a bit more with the Darkspear. Hands were clasped, shoulders touched, and the Loa invoked. Light she wished should connect better here, but that was the life of an elf in the Horde. The enemy of my enemy is not always my friend.
Nianani stalked back up to Noell, her heavy sword resting on her shoulder as she looked over the shorter elf toward Sevlaz and back.
"Al'rite?" Her thick Zandalari accent sometimes hard to understand but Noell was learning.
Noell turned to look back as Sevlaz approached the Darkspear vendor, judging by the body language it would be a long conversation. She shook her head.
"For now," she spoke coolly. "I have bad feeling about that one."
"Ya say tha bout a lot of folk."
Noell shook her head, finding she did that a lot for herself as much as others. Bad habits died hard.
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For any applicable character of choice, Wednesday Asks; IC: "Is it possible to truly forgive and forget?"
Noell leaned on the black iron chain of the tower as she surveyed the Valley of Strength, her purple eyes idly taking note of everything happening. Which was not a lot of anything and yet she still felt a prickling on the back of her neck seeing the wyverns flying by with the heavy tolling of the hourly gong. Four strikes.
One.
Howls of rage and hatred echoed in the air, a battle cry raging in the chaos of the burning of the Eversong. The Horde had come to Quel'thalas and they had brought the horrors of this war to their shores. A babe in a mother's arms, the sight of the burning trees were etched in a child's mind and heart. A flight to the capital to escape these monsters.
Two.
Howls of hunger and pain echoed in the air, a despairing cry echoing through the wastes of was the beautiful world she had grown up in. The ground was grey, the water turned to spit, and her people rising to kill those they loved. A girl growing up so fast to escape the end of the world as her world tried to tear her limb from limb.
Three.
Howls of the fallen and Scourge echoed in the air, a triumphant rally cry thundering throughout the ruined Ghostlands. Her sword flashed with new found power as she pressed on with comrades into the fray. Blood Knights, decked in crimson and gold, filled with the power of their people as they called forth the Light to destroy the ruinous creatures of their home. A woman fighting for a world that was theirs and would let no monster take it from them ever again.
Four.
Howls of the mournful and broken-hearts echoed in the air, the betrayed cry of a people who had put so much faith into one man. The Prince had betrayed them all. The well though corrupted and purged again was now blessed by a power they had all abused to the death of an immortal being. Guilt was as heavy as the past years they had watched the world end and start again. A soldier now stood as strong as she could despite a heart that was heavy with shame.
There was a thunk to her armored shoulder as Noell snapped back awake, her eyes blinking quickly as she stood up straight to come back to the present. Tugging at her red tabard, the woman would look to her right to find Nianani holding a steaming clay cup to her.
"Ya alrite dere?" The Zandalari would question with a tilt of her head, the cup gently taken away by her partner.
Noell just nodded and took a sip of the dark sludge within. Dark, rich, and bitter, reminded her of a lot of things she didn't want to admit. "Just dreaming."
There was an understanding nod in return as Nianani took a sip of her own. Lowering the cup down, she would speak again as she was never afraid to share with anyone. "Ya want ta talk bout it?"
There was a moment where she felt like she could unload it all. Doubts, fears, prejudices, and the shame of it all. But that wasn't the way. And it definitely wasn't the way of the sin'dorei. You dealt with your own problems. They were stronger than that.
Noell shook her head. Nianani nodded again as they both went back to watching the orange and purple skies of the Horde capital. Orgrimmar's finest.
