Where do you see yourself in five years? How different would things be from where they are today?
“Hard to say. I would certainly like to have all the current things in my life that I have now such as a roof above my head, Amorthon and the two tiger-youngsters. Five years is a long time if one can truly think about it. We might have a few additions to the cabin to come in that time such as a garden and much a requested alchemy hut. Though, I’m not opposed to the prospect of other additions either.”
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Honesty hour; Is there any resentment you hold toward the current conflict? (Alliance bus Horde edition)
“My family has always stood as protectors of life and creation though for centuries that has seemingly waned and even more so snuffed with the death of my mother. I may be Sin’dorei and indirectly part of the Horde but there is nothing that the Horde has been doing as of late that I care to partake in which is why I have been keeping odd jobs for Miss.Sun’rael and her organization as well as my consistent work with the Tirisgarde and their artifacts and relics. I only regret that the Horde has not done better for themselves but then again with a walking corpse as the Warchief, this is not surprising in the least.”
“Do you not know what she looks like?” Macelius asked as he gazed out the window down in to the courtyard. Already the guardsmen were seeing to the Lady Shiverflame from her horse and from the looks of it, she had come alone. Even through the darkness the eldest Starscythe boy could see her platinum hair. She looked far more fair than anticipated, given the letters he had received from his sister, Macelius was certain she might have been a fiery and ferocious redhead. Thoughtfully, he took a gingered sip from his goblet of wine.
“No need boy, she’ll be here soon enough. Sit down. You look like a right fool like that at the window, gawking.”
“I can’t help it. You see the words of someone, seeing their personality first and you find yourself wondering what they look like. We’ve never seen her before. How old is she?”
Lord Starscythe sat at the head if the table, sending a sneer towards his eldest son. He ought to have answered for he knew just how long ago he took the Shaverflame maiden into his arms, he hadn’t forgotten the woman even when she remarried. The very thought of the past would have straightened his crippled heart if he cared to linger on the matter. The butt of a sheath slammed down on the floor outside the dining hall twice and the Lady was announced.
Neither of the Starscythe men met their audience at the foyer as Nyllae often was accustomed to. Though such a gesture didn’t seem to throw the woman off. As she was announced she stepped in to the room with a black and red brocade and ebon epaults hung from her shoulders, both hands were gloved and her stark blonde hair was pinned back slightly from her face whilst some lay down in gentle waves. She was not overly dressed and wore no visible jewels to show her wealth. The only symbol of her House was the golden pin of a Dragon long the top left portion of her bosom accompanied by a wooden, handcrafted rose. Every bit regal and well trained, the woman performed a curtsey which was met by a nod from the lord Garrelon Starscythe.
“Lady Shiverflame.” the old man finally addressed her and with a stern tone as he waved to the chair at the far end of the table. Truth be told, she was not at all who he thought her to be. The late Lady Shiverflame was nothing like her daughter that he could recall all thanks to the very blonde hair Nyllae sported. A small seed of doubt settled within him as the elder took is seat across from the Mage.
Macelius swept himself in to a bow and he regarded Nyllae, “Well met and welcome to the main Starscythe estate. We are both very excited to see that you finally decided to agree to a meeting.”
A scoff release from Garrelon as he waved a hand towards Macelius, slightly irritated at his son’s rather chiper approach. Nyllae however met her half-brother with a small smile; it was hard to tell just how genuine it might have been received, “Well met and good evening.” she replied to them both.
Macelius took a seat to Nyllae’s left, “I trust the trip wasn’t a long one?”
“Not at all. I quite enjoy riding.”
Garrelon smoothed his hands out over the wooden table before folding them before himself and staring down towards the pair, “When did your mother pass exactly? I would like to know.” his very question demanded attention.
Nyllae refused herself the pointed brow she was determined to make in a stout reply, “Five months ago.”
“Was she well cared for in her passing?”
“As well as one could be, my Lord.” Nyllae nearly choked out the words
“Ah.” Garrelon met her with and he cleared his throat, “I suspect you have a great many things to handle since her passing and on her behalf?”
”Debt?”
”A little. No more than most would with the passing of a family member. I don’t recall you making the pyre ceremony.”
“No Madam, It would have been ill proper for someone of my status to make a presence to his ex-lovers funeral. As you can imagine and possibly speculate, it was best to keep such rumors at bay. Better for you; better for myself.” he licked his dry lips.
“Of course…” Nyllae forced a smile and ever so sweetly, “What would the common rabble think of it all…”
Garrelon stood from his chair and with a singular arm tucked behind his back and the other primly position into a fist at his front, he began to slowly stalk the table, at a closer distance Nyllae was truly able to see her father’s age. Part of him did look every bit as she imagined. Cunt through and through. It caused her brow to knit slowly, “I have a proposal for you. As your mother’s assets are the minimum and bare bones -- scraps if you will -- how do you propose to continue your household with what is remaining?”
“I am still a valuable part of the Tirisgarde, Sir. I wouldn’t imagine that line of work leaving me any time soon. I also tend to odd jobs for a privatized organization.” she offered.
“Do you now? It sounds like dirty work.”
“Mercenaries? The jobs pay extremely well and I am accustomed to the line of work that finds me through them.”
Garrelon snorted his disapproval and paused in his walk a moment. Something about him seemed as if though he preferred to be a few heads higher than those around him. At this angle, Nyllae could see the scar over his right eye that placed right through his eyebrow, barely missing his eye socket. He just might have been someone skilled in battle or the battlefield having a hand in the chaos.
Disappointing…
Nyllae blinked as she listened on, “I would imagine your mother would have wanted better things for you. A more stabilized way of life and reason to continue the bloodline she fought so hard to continue. Alas, it is practically abolished just by your birth and for being a female. You can rectify that mistake however by baring sons or a higher house and status.”
“I haven’t any thoughts at current to being a mother.”
“Of course you don’t. Such is the reason why men are typically the traditional sense of noble households, daughter. We’re bred to direct them.”
“I am in need of no such direction. By right I am the Matriarch of House Shiverflame now and the legacy that was handed down to me is mine. I need no man to direct me or what should come.”
“You will need to take a husband no matter what you fancy yourself being. Be it a noblewoman of Quel’Thalas or a common rat among the street, if you are to leave anything behind then let it be a generation to continue the line. Or have you not noticed the small numbers of our people as is?” Garrelon’s voice was already rising passionately, “Was it written after your mother’s death for you to rightfully take that mantle?”
“Father..” Macelius offered with gentle warning, tipping his head in his father's direction and rolling his eyes, he knew how the old man could get in times of business.
“Hush boy, you have your wife and two daughters. You know the way of it and everyone must do their part in this family. Half or not!” he appraised Nyllae a moment who was just brimming with words she was ready to release. Her hands were wrung tightly in her lap just under the table, “You still have a son to bear.” Garrelon so coldly reminded Macelius who glanced down to his hands, “Stillborns do not suffice.”
Nyllae furrowed her brow as she looked between Garrelon and Macelius. She had truly not been this privy to how truly noble houses were outside of her own. Despite her step-father treating her poorly and the stalwart dedication and integrity of her mother in her social circles, this seemed to take the cake. She was truly out of touch on how it all ran, “I will say it again, I have no interest at current for having children. Nor do I have a thought of marriage.”
“Oh come now, you’re still very much a maiden. There are several large Houses that would consider you just by the fact you are my daughter alone.” Garrelon scoffed, “You would do our names a service.”
“I bet I would but I am unfortunately not in the business of your business…Sir.” she refused to call him father. Garrelon wasn’t a man she knew.
“You are still a maid, yes?” the Lord of the house demanded.
“Yes. Though that is not a business I am not up for discussing.”
The Lord of the House narrowed his eyes slightly and said nothing more. The elder moved silently around the table once more which caused Nyllae and Macelius to go silent, not sharing more than a quick glance at once another until Nyllae finally spoke up, “Is there anything else?”
Garrelon barely looked over his shoulder and there was a small stream of hesitation that Nyllae did not catch, “None. My formal business is concluded with you for the time being Lady Shiverflame. I do certainly hope you will make the time for us again in the future to meet your other siblings. They have been eager to meet you.”
A smile barely twisted to Nyllae’s face to hide the sneer she was just dying to release, “Of course...Sir.” she forced once more, “I will be in touch.” the Mage pushed her chair out and Macelius caught it to help her upon her exit, “I bid you and your household a pleasant eve.” with a bow of her head she turned towards the door and made for the exit, Macelius in tow right behind her as if though he knew Garrelon would have instructed him to do so to buffer any damage that might have lingered.
Lord Starscythe listened to them make their way down the hall and he gazed over his shoulder to the curtain by the doorway that lead down to the kitchens, “I want her followed, day and night and stay out of sight. You will report everything she says or does to me and intercept anything her household may send out. I don’t care how or when, just do it!” he spat and the male within the threshold that went unseen smirked, offering a bow.
“Consider it done, father.”
“You must forgive him, he is old and very traditional. Nyllae! Will you just stop?”
Finally Nyllae paused and turned to regard her half-brother, “Excuse my candor, brother, but I have been my own person for several years. I have gotten this far on the wisdom of my mother and learning to be independent and run my life the only way I know how -- alone! I don’t need some cluster of men walking in to my life barking orders or suggesting what I should or should not do. Lord Starscythe will not want to meddle with me or my affairs, I have no intention on bending to his wishes as the master of his household. He may have his and I will have mine.” A look of warning flared from her eyes and Nyllae pulled away from her kin.
“At least consider it! There is strength in family and in numbers!” Macelius called out to her from the courtyard as he watched her look back one final time before taking to her horse.
Caring for people and things does not work the way you think it does. You are so invested in making sure that everything around you is perfect that instead of showing you care, you plan and control without asking for any input (which, of course, you justify by telling yourself that you aren't burdening anyone else with extra work). You show dedication and attention to everything the same way you would a bonsai tree: meticulous maintenance, control, planning, and foresight. You call this “dedication,” but it's not - it's needing personal control so badly that you've confused it for real connection - which is not really a great quality in a friend, but a very helpful quality in an aspiring serial killer.
You can find the quiz here!
Tagging: @unabashedrebel - @amorthonblackwood - @bloody-loyalties - @gilneanseas - @pyraelia - and anyone else who wishes to do this! =D
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Attire and armor that Nyllae typically is known to wear being a War Mage. The colors black and red are indicative of her House colors. Hairstyle and braids that she often favors, runes, color schemes and roses to symbolize Mageroyal as well as a sneaky cheek smooch which symbolizes her relationship with Amorthon.
“I have plenty though, for the sake of brevity, it would have to be the lack of words I offered my mother before her passing. Most importantly, just my time. I had been so wrapped up in my work that the times in which I went to visit had become less and less. Now? Well, I have nothing left of her, not even the house she took so much joy in. A house that had been in the family for generations. My pride and stubbornness got in the way and caused a lot of strife between my father and I that resulted in the two of us burning things to the ground around us just to prove a point.”
