Chris was in the middle of grabbing a chair as the heard the dwarf jump over the bar. Looking in his direction, he heard the dwarfs calm speech, and laughed to himself. What an interesting fellow. And here he is, completely calm, after an experience the rocked his little priest world, I'm sure. As he dragged the chair to rest between the piles of weapons, Chris called out to the dwarf. "Well, my bold friend, I'm glad to see your alright. I had thought you would be, but didn't see you during the clean up. Would you mind bringing over a mug of ale for me? I'm afraid I need to still keep an eye on these two until I'm sure their hostility has passed. Though, in their present state, I would hope they don't try to fight any more." Looking over at the assassin and hunter, still resting on the floor. "Perhaps they might enjoy something to drink as well. They have certainly put themselves through quite a spin."
"Fine i am. No thanks to bull." he responded, hinting the asleep tauren, then walked slowly to the kitchen where the remaining intact drinks were. He was still under effects of concussion, so his rage againts horde affiliated patrons of the tavern seemed sated. Although his distaste for worgen remained sub-conciously. His murmuring voice came from the kitchen, then a distant yell "Beer eh?". Then, all of a sudden, he appeared back at the door of kitchen, his right arm raised towards the worgen druid, he chanted a holy command and made a grasping gesture with his right hand. Spell severed the soul of the unexpecting worgen and re-materialised right in front of the dwarf, pulling the body in the air with holy magic. "Fetch yer own beer. Yourself." he said, giggling.
Last edited by Mengucekli; 2012-08-28 at 09:32 PM.
Chris barely managed to control his stomach before he lost all of it's contents. He quickly grabbed ahold of the bar to steady himself while his momentary imbalance passed. Holy s***! That was worse than my first time becoming a worgen, or even shapeshifting... Ugh, so much for my good spirits. And forget trying to be nice to this midget. "Now what the blazes was that for..." Wanting nothing more than to smash a hole in the wall again and throw the damned dwarf out of it, Chris barely restrained himself due to the two combatants now on the other end of the bar. As soon as that overgrown cow wakes up, I swear, I'm punting this midget. Quickly grabbing a glass and taking the entire wineskin he had found before, Chris made his way back to his chair, miraculously still sitting upright. Sure he could hear the laughing of all the other conscious bar patrons, he was only glad Jorn had not witnessed the event. I would have never lived it down... Sitting back down, Chris began taking swigs directly from the wineskin, only stopping to watch the two fighters and mumble about "stupid dwarfs... who drink milk... bloody priests and their damned jokes..."
Last edited by Knephertiti; 2012-08-28 at 10:25 PM.
Grimgor giggled as the unexpecting druids eyes nearly went out because of after-effects of the leap. Then, for a moment he saw the fury in his eyes, and immediately recalled the time he faced Gutspill.. In pitch darkness, in that cursed place named Roland's Doom.. It's eyes were like that. But much to his surprise, druid managed to stay calm, grabbing what he needed and got back to his captives. Grimgor was confused. "Not like him. Not like it. Not alike." he said to himself. They were not feral afterall, as he prejudiced for almost every worgen he saw.
Sifting through the bottles and kegs, he found a bottle of cold milk. "At last!" he cheered, grabbing the bottle. Back on his way out, he met the goblin bartender at the door while he was crawling back inside. Goblin stood up and yelled "Stealin'?!", and immediately got a punch right in the middle of his face, knocking him back. Grimgor removed some coins from his sash and dropped them on his face as he passed by, murmuring "Brothers never steal.".
He headed for the stairs as he was already tired and night was getting even more tiresome each moment. He wanted to rest in one of those hammocks upstairs, after drinking his bottle of ice cold milk. He gave a last look at the worgen and his captives, and stopped at that moment. "Doing the right. Must help him." he thought. His heart could not accept to turn his back to other that were in need. He turned his body to the worgen, and chanted the power word, blessing him with stamina. "Night long. You need stay? Wait for those? You'll need this." he explained, then he turned away and gone upstairs.
((I may not be able to join you guys tomorrow, but beware! That room has an open roof to upper levels, you never know when a mad dwarf may fall right in the middle ))
Last edited by Mengucekli; 2012-08-28 at 10:45 PM.
Still very angry at the 'bloody midget man priest', Chris tracked him from the corner of his lupine eyes. Even upset, he nearly laughed seeing the goblin get clocked and then coins dropped onto his face. Noticing the dwarf begin to head to the hall leading upstairs, Chris turned his attention back to the two still on the floor, beginning to worry about them. Then, hearing the dwarf speak, Chris struggled to understand what he was saying. All of a sudden, he felt all of his stamina returning, almost as if he had just had a nice, long sleep. Unable to form a thought or utter a word, he simply sat here, staring at the priest as he made his way up the stairs. A few minutes later, he realized what had just happened, a let out a quiet thanks. The dwarf... I don't know about him. Perhaps I'll have to give him a chance before I throw him into the bay...
Turning back to the assassin and huntress, Chris began drinking again, albeit not as quickly. His thoughts wandering now, I wonder if something is wrong with these two. And Jorn, I hope he wakes soon. It will be a long night if I have to sit here with only myself for entertainment. I'll have to switch to water in that case...
As a few minutes of silence passed, the Tavern began feeling quite a bit warmer. To Chris, in his fur, almost unbearably warm. Ugh. Time for ice cold water. I drank more than I thought I did, and I can't let myself get completely intoxicated. This is getting unbearable... I'll have to return to my human form for now... Ugh, despite how much I loathe it, always feel more free as a worgen... As Chris staggered up and began a hunt for some ice water, he shifted into his human form, that of a man a little below average height, fair skin, neither pale nor tanned, and hair dark as night.
Chris nearly stumbled over himself, and suddenly his brain began kicking in again. He murmured a detoxifying spell, realizing were it not for the dwarf's departing gift, he probably would not have been able to realize his full condition. I guess I owe the little man after all. Still, it is his fault I started drinking so fast anyways... Remembering to keep an eye on the two combatants, Chris continued searching around for water.
((Okay, have fun! *Opens an umbrella* I'm ready for the dwarven rain! :P))
Alexander felt the effects of the druid's spell, and sighed in mild restoration, feeling some of his strength return. He still felt no motivation to move whatsoever, however, and decided to stay put. The blood elf stretched on her back, then moved to sit beside him, hugging her knees up to her chest, breathing slowly. Alexander closed his eyes for a moment, then spoke. "I'm sorry if I've upset you."
The blood elf didn't speak. He blocked out every other noise, and heard only her ragged breathing. She was most likely still in pain and exhausted, but he doubted she was still actually injured. The druid wouldn't have been that cruel. "I just do what I've been taught to do. The gold I earn is what sustains me. Without it, I have nothing."
"You have a life, to be thankful for," she finally replied, after five minutes or so. "You're young. Why are you so cold, so vicious? Why don't you fight for a worthy cause? Are you not loyal to the Alliance, or even Gilneas; your own kingdom?"
Alexander didn't reply at once. He sorted out his thoughts, asking himself the same question. "I . . . I don't know," he said softly. "My family died a year after I was born. I'd met a friend, who eventually became a brother to me. But, just before the Shattering, and the destruction of the Greymane Wall, he'd disappeared one night. I never saw him again. As soon as I escaped Gilneas, I figured, 'I've been trapped for fifteen years. Now I am free.' With that thought in my head, I decided I didn't want to become shackled to some faction bent on waging war with another. I had no gold, no family, and no home. Only my training, my wits, and strength. Once I figured out how to change forms on will, I roamed as a human for a while, picking up jobs and earning gold. With that gold, I purchased gear to assist me on my travels, as well as taking up training on other helpful skills, such as cooking, first aid, and creating poisons." He paused, distantly realizing he had no weapons. They had all been confiscated by the druid, apparently named Chris. "Before I knew it, my pockets were full of nothing but gold. I used that to further upgrade what I had instead of replacing it, and other useful things. I met a gnome, too. He trained me in engineering. I decided to put those skills to good use, as a free person, and continued mercenary work."
Velirra was silent. Alexander opened his eyes and looked at her, estimating her age. Elves are always difficult to do so, he thought, examining her carefully. I'd guess she must be at least one hundred-thirty years old, give or take a few extra years.
"So," she finally said and, by the sounds of it, clearly trying to put things together in her head. "You're a young rogue, clearly skilled in combat and stealth, and many other different skills. You make gold to sustain yourself, and are an orphan." She paused, trying to piece together the puzzle. "Do you ever actually stop and think about the lives you're taking? About the people who you're hurting? The blood elf you killed, before I started hunting you. Did you stop and think that maybe, just maybe, he had a wife? Children? And if he did, that you've just orphaned a child, or two, or however many he may have had? And what of his wife, should he have had one? She now not only has to bear the pain of knowing her husband was murdered, but having to sustain her children, alone. And what of the other countless people you've killed?"
Alexander's own anger flared. "And what of you, elf? You fight alongside your savage Horde in attempts to bring peace? Don't you think that trying to help stop the war without bloodshed would be more peaceful, than slaughtering people who only want to survive? What about you?"
Velirra growled softly, the sound still pained and tired, but she started to feel her anger give her strength. "I fight because the Alliance threatens my home, family and people. I want peace, without bloodshed. Are you saying I should stand unarmed, and declare that I shall not fight, even if they deign to ignore my words, and charge at me, weapons raised?" She forced her eyes open, glaring at the massive rogue beside her.
Alexander growled, clenching his fists. "You missed the point I'm trying to make."
"What point?" Velirra asked, her voice rising slightly. "The point that you want me to forget you cowardly backstabbed an innocent sin'dorei, for no reason other than to fill your pocket with gold?"
"No," Alexander said, his voice a low, feral growl. "The point that seems impossible to shove in to your thick head. Maybe this is why you had to poison me. Reasoning with me or trying to fight me were both crossed out reasons. The first, because you don't make sense and misunderstand. The second, because I could crush you as easily as I would a fly."
Suddenly fuelled by a surge of fury, Velirra attempted to shove herself away from the rogue, trying to stand. She gave up, exhausted, and slumped back against the wall. I don't have any weapons, either, she thought, her shoulders slumping in defeat. He's right, anyway. Unless I caught him by surprise, with my bow. Or if I had Emberfire with me.
Chris noticed the two were beginning to move, and as such ended his search for water and began making his way back to his chair. Watching the two start to talk, Chris began gaining in hope for the two to settle their differences. However, to his dismay, by the time he reached his chair their voices had raised, becoming angry and upset. Chris sighed as he sat and watched the elf try to push away from the worgen. "Well, you two gave me hope for a little bit there. But then you went and shattered it. Good job."
---------- Post added 2012-08-28 at 06:58 PM ----------
Chris's speech interrupted both of them, and Velirra took a deep, painful breath, while Alexander growled softly to himself and laid his head back, muttering something under his breath.
"You say you could beat me easily," she said, this time, keeping her voice even and soft. "I'll be the first to admit, in any form of melee combat, you could, and as easily as you say. But, how would you fare if I stood above you, bow in hand, traps laid out before me, my companion - a monstrous dragonhawk, in case you're curious - by my side? How would you kill me then?"
Alexander didn't reply. How could he? Even he could admit, if the hunter had her advantages and he the lesser, he would die as easily as he could sneak up on her and kill her with a single blow of his dagger.
He lowered his voice equally, his tone cold and serious. "I would die."
Velirra sighed. "Now you see. The blood elf you killed, a skilled magi, could have easily destroyed you, had you been at the disadvantage. You think yourself powerful because you can kill someone with them at your mercy. You're wrong: We're all equal in our own rights."
Chris listens to the two, seeing them finally begin to see eye to eye. "She is right you know. All of nature, as all of life, is an act of balance. Look around you. This tavern was torn down by nature, and rebuilt by it too. Look into your own lives. There are always ways life balances itself out." The druid holds both palms on either side of his both, completely straight and at equal height."And if you let yourself get too caught up with one side of the scales..." He begins moving his left palm down, while raising his right "Then the other is forced to balance it's self out..." Now, the druid brings his hands rapidly together, making a loud clapping sound "Striking you back in the process. This is why we are taught the sanctity of balance, and this is why both of you have suffered today. Too much rage, not enough discipline, and as such, you were hit by things balancing out again." Chris's mouth forms a wide grin before continuing "This was a lesson I learned the hard way myself. I was lucky, however, to have Jorn there to save my furry tail, else I likely would be dead."
Velirra nodded slowly. "The druid speaks truth. And I, of all people, will be the first to admit that my actions, too, were wrong. Revenge may have been the most logical case in this debate, but it was not required, nor was it right, even if reasonable."
"I need the money to survive. Without it, I'd have no food, no water, no . . . Nothing," Alexander replied, his voice almost remorseful. "My family left me, my closest friend is either missing or dead, and I have no home. What do you want me to do?" His tone was growing angry again, but this time, his frustration seemed directed at . . . Himself, and his past, and life.
Chris frowned at hearing the sadness and anger in the worgen's voice. "The first thing you must learn, is the meaning of hope. Of knowing a better tomorrow is there for you, if you choose to move for it. May life be difficult? Quite possibly, but what life isn't? Are you any better off in your current line of work, where you may be killed suddenly without even knowing it, not until it is too late?" Chris shakes his head, remembering back to his childhood. "I never had any friends, so perhaps I was lucky. I never had any family either. I spent my young years as a wild child, fighting to survive, often forced away from other people and children as being 'too dangerous'. But druidism, learning to use and control this wild side, and seek out balance, has brought me a new meaning in life. I have no money other than what little I have gained for reward and selling hides, and all my food and drink comes from the land. If money means so much to you, take it." Chris reaches into an inner pocket of his clothing, pulling out several silver and gold coins. "But know, if you truly choose to believe in yourself, and hope for a better tomorrow, you can do whatever you may want. Perhaps live your life as an adventurer, aiding other for your coin, without senseless murder. Or work on your other skills, training others to be as proficient as you with their fighting, or selling what you make with your own skills." Chris chuckled at a thought. "To think I would be the one on this side of the conversation. I owe more to that cow then I could ever realize."
Jorn, almost in response, snorted in his slumber. Not as deep asleep now, but still not quite close to being awake either.
Velirra, slowly gaining her strength back, still felt some anger towards the rogue for what he'd done. But, as things went with her, her compassionate heart always won out.
Standing shakily, she took a few steps over to Alexander and knelt down beside him, placing a hand on his thick shoulder. He automatically tensed, and she could feel his muscles beneath his skin; hard, corded bands of iron. How unusual, she thought to herself, but shook the thought off. "The life of a mercenary may be sweet to the taste in the beginning, but it will be more beneficial to you in the long run if you pledge yourself to someone - most likely Gilneas, or the Alliance - and fight for them. What would you like more? The savage satisfaction of knowing the body lying beneath you, blood pooling in the dirt, means nothing? Or to fight for a reason?" She paused, closing her eyes. "Sure, the Horde and the Alliance are much alike. We are simply two peoples that wish to survive, in an ever-changing world that seems to reject us all. It-" And she stopped, as she noticed Alexander was staring in to her eyes. Not with anger, or frustration, or even sadness. But . . . Curiosity?
"I . . . " he started, then trailed off, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath before continuing in his deep, growl-like tone. "I think I know what you mean."
"Many have asked themselves, 'Why do we fight?' It is in our nature. We fight to protect our home . . . Our family. To bring balance and harmony. Indeed, hacking away at one another may not be the wisest decision, but it is in our blood, our nature, to do this. It is how we survive. But, we must ask ourselves the question: 'What is worth fighting for?'"
((Stolen from the WoW Mists of Pandaria Opening CInematic. Thought it fit nicely in there, haha. My, my, this is a much different scenario than our other roleplay. I can't believe how soft this one is turning out. O.O.))
((I know right? It's like Chainsaw Massacre compared to Cuddle Bears. I'm still laughing at the use of the MoP line. Ooh, maybe that's what we need, a panda to come in and hand us all our behinds on a stick. XD))
Chris nodded, listening to the two. While not exactly what he meant, it was still comforting to see the two of them now getting along, and opening their eyes to the balance of the world. Even with the priest's spell, the night would starting to grow new again, and Chris' thoughts began moving towards what may lie tomorrow.
Jorn now begins snoring in the back ground, causing Chris to laugh.
Alexander didn't move for a long moment, his eyes closed, thinking. He could hear Velirra's breathing beside him, soft but still slightly strained. For the first time since escaping Quel'Thalas, he felt himself relaxing, knowing that, whatever happened tonight, he had all his life to change what he needed to.
And yet, something stirred inside of him. Something . . . Dark. You truly want to bow before 'King' Varian, lick his boots, and pledge yourself to him and his army? a voice asked inside his head. It sounded oddly like his, but it seemed to be undertoned by . . . Something. Something dark, cold, and vicious. You truly wish to give up the life of an independent mercenary, who is out to make a name for himself throughout Azeroth. The only name you'll make for yourself is 'another Alliance dog' to the Horde, and 'that snivelling coward that doesn't have the guts to be a man.'
Despite the conversations he'd just had with both Chris and the blood elf, he couldn't help but agree with the voice. Even as this thought processed its way through his head, he found himself subconsciously nodding, without even fully realizing it. No, he thought to himself, finding the words true to his heart; no matter how cold his heart was. I wish to follow my own destiny. To be what I wish to be. Not what others suggest I be. Then why in the name of those that created you, the Titans themselves, would you foolishly do such a thing? the voice demanded, growing stronger, echoing through his head. He realized that he was talking to himself; the darkness within him, the beast that was always present, even if shackled beneath Alexander's control. I . . . I don't know. I don't want to- Then don't !
A sudden headache pounded its way in to his head as the voice's command reverberated through his mind. He groaned, clutching his temples with both hands. He staggered to his feet, forcing his eyes open, aware of Chris and Velirra's curious - and worried? - gazes, as he stumbled towards the tavern door. "Won't . . . I swear," he muttered, almost a growl, deep in his throat, as he staggered through the doorway and out in to the night.
Velirra sat, confused, as the worgen rogue - the same rogue she'd been sent to hunt down and take in - whether dead or alive - staggered out of the tavern, clearly in some sort of discomfort. She wasn't sure why, but she knew it was something. The pain in her chest had eased somewhat, so she pushed herself to her feet as well, taking a deep, strained breath. She glanced at Chris, then found herself caught holding his gaze.
Chris looked deep into the elf's emerald eyes. For the first time, he recognized her slim, elegant, yet fit frame, easy to look at. Shaking his head, he forced his mind back on the other worgen, and what had just occurred.
"I'm not sure what is wrong, but there obviously is. It is not uncommon for our species to have multiple sides to our personalities, but in our minds.... it worries me. We need to follow him, and make sure he doesn't hurt anything, or anyone, or himself." Looking over at Jorn, who was starting to stir in his rest, Chris sighed deeply.
"We will have to wake Jorn. If Alex moves into the jungle, or shifts into his worgen form, he will become much more difficult to track and catch up to. You might be able to track him better than I, but with Jorns connection to nature, it should prove to be easier still." Walking over to the Tauren, Chris continued on.
"Though, he will not be fully recovered yet. Could you perhaps heat some water in the back, and bring it out here? With the herbs from his satchel, a simple reinvigorating tea should energize him enough for travel. Or, if you prefer, I can tend to him, while you start chasing after Alex. We will then catch up to you as he becomes ready."
Velirra nodded slowly, noticing Chris's powerful gaze examining her body, then returning to the present. "Absolutely. And, in a sense, he should be somewhat easy to track . . . His size makes it difficult for him, I'll bet. He's big, for being human, and a young human, at that. In his worgen form? I'd estimate he's at least eight or nine feet tall. Should be a piece of cake."
She left to the back, and began boiling some water, mulling over her thoughts, and what the future may hold. Before she knew it, the water had boiled, and she carried the pot back out to Chris and a sleeping and exhausted Jorn. She set it down beside the druids, and knelt on the other side of Jorn's slumbering form. "I won't leave without you," she said, keeping her tone soft. She closed her eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath, and meeting Chris's gaze. "He could have easily killed me, had he wished to. I am wary of fighting him, but with you two, I doubt it'd be much of a problem to subdue him and take him back to Quel'Thalas."
Chris looked back at the elf, before removing a few herbs and seeds from Jorn's satchel. Dropping them into the still boiling water, a sweet aromatic scent filled the tavern. Scents of flowers, of trees, of wild animals. The scent of nature drifted around the room, and as it filled the air, Jorn began waking in response. Rousing slowly from his sleep, he squinted his eyes a few times before looking at the port before him, then at those on either side of him.
"Good morning. I see you have made a new friend Chris, did you at least find her name? And what happened to your fellow worgen?" Jorn questioned before dipping the mug he found at hand into the water, and began sipping from the tea.
"It seems I may just have, though probably more of an acquaintance. She seems much more interested in my larger 'brother' than I. However, we woke you in regards to him. We are both worried he has lost his mind, and a worgen as such can do a lot of damage. Oh, and she still wishes to bring him to his death. But that's another story." Chris filled Jorn in on what had transpired while the Tauren continued drinking his hot tea.
"I see. If what I hear is true, then I too am troubled by the young worgen's behavior. Though I tend to both agree and disagree with the two of you. He will be both easier to track in worgen form, but also harder to find and catch. That is, without a little aid from the natural spirits." Jorn closed his eyes a moment, breathing in the aromatic aroma.
"If you two are ready, we should begin moving soon. First, however, I suggest you each share some tea with me. We are likely for a long journey with the lead he has on us, with little chance for sleep or rest. Also, are your wounds completely healed, miss huntress?"
Chris shrugged at the suggestion of having tea, before getting up to fetch two additional mugs. Handing one to the elf, he dipped his own in the pot and began drinking, rejoicing in the warmth and soothing drink. He felt it bolster his energy, and brought his natural powers closer to hand.
"Yes. I'm fine." She took her mug and mimicked Chris, finding the tea rather comforting and soothing. She drank it slowly, savouring every second of it, and felt her strength return with every sip. "I am Velirra Dawnstrider, ranger of SIlvermoon and - at the moment - a bounty hunter sent by Ranger-General Halduron Brightwing, to find the rogue, whom has just ran off. Whether he likes it or not - whether anyone likes it or not - he needs to face the consequences for his crimes. I need him dead or alive. I don't care which, but he will face a trial under General Brightwing's hand." She finished her tea, placing the empty mug on the table and gathering up her scattered weapons. She made sure both her quivers were full, then strapped them on - one on her back ,the other at her waist. She sheathed both her shortswords, flipped her dagger up, and shoved it in her boot. As she shouldered her bow, she stopped, and walked over to the spot where she'd noticed a metal object glinting. She bent down and picked up the worgen rogue's jewelled dagger; the same one he'd tried throwing at her. She held it for a moment, then sheathed it on her belt. Shrugging, she pulled her hood up, hiding most of her face, and turned back to the two druids. "I'm ready."
((I'll post the new RP in a second. Then we can begin the world-wide hunt.))