(RP) Snowy Days

World’s End Tavern: Role-play and Fan Fiction
Wariir stood up, then looked across at Allaynna. "I wasn't always the fierce, angry, hateful warrior that stands before you right now. I, in fact used to be a mere civilian of Draenor, that is, before it was taken over by the marauding orcs. These orcs, as well as Kil'jaeden's people took my parents from me, and I was then captured by Murkblood, Broken Draenei who attempted to make me a heartless warrior, and they almost succeeded, had Velen and his own Draenei not saved me. Through Velen's teachings I have risen above my state of being a beast that wishes death and pain upon all that cross me. I wish for a better world, but the Lich king and the Scourge made this world much worse. One of my friends were killed by one of your very own, by a death knight, and this is why I attacked you. Scourge light an anger inside of me, a fury that controls my actions, and the only thing that stopped me was recognition of my father's holy symbol. If you wear that, and you didn't take it from my dad's corpse, then you are an ally of mine." he said, nodding to Allaynna.
"Suffer well," Allaynna murmured, "But know that even my kind, monsters we may be, can feel grief and guilt. I lost the last of my family, and many friends, to my own blade, the Lich King has paid his dues, and the world may once again be a better place. If only more people fought for it." Passing her hand over her blade, she murmured words softly, as if she were speaking to the weapon, before resheathing it on her back.
"Wait." the Draenei said, trying to stop her from walking away. "I do not know who you are, but you knew my father, seeing as you wear his insignia upon your left bracer. I have nothing but admiration and respect for my father's deeds, and if you served him at some point, then I have nothing but respect for you, and I apologize for attacking you. As I stated before, I lose control of my emotions frequently when looking upon what appears to be my enemy. Perhaps I am not fit to live in a world such as this. Perhaps, by trying to make the world a better place, I condemn it even more." the Draenei finished somberly, shuffling upstairs to his room, which was conveniently located next to the room Allaynna had rented for the night.
"You are one of the lucky ones," said the death knight beneath his helm. He leaned on the entrance door frame and had been watching the altercation with mild interest.

"I died soon after the Scourge killed my people and my beloved. But I was raised too late. In all the lives I have taken under his influence and even under the banner of the Ebon Blade..." he look at his hand and slowly clenched it. "I have felt nothing but the void and a sadness in having that void. Seeing my own children at the gates of Ice Crown ready to avenge our people did not give me pride. And seeing my beloved twisted into a horror under the Lich King's grasp did not rile my stomach nor stir my heart. It was as easy to fight her as it was any other."

"In the end, I can still see my son's hatred in his eyes as his arrows pierced his mother's undead corpse. And I still feel nothing more than slight interest."
Allaynna nodded grimly, "So much of the time, we, death knights, seem to lose touch with reality. I have had years...so many, long, painful, dark years...to come to understand at least a little bit." Sighing, she settled into her seat after, once more, removing her armor. "Memories walk silent paths, yet they leave their mark on me." the cryptic statement seemed to make perfect sense to the woman, "My sister, my lover, my best-friend...All gone now, because of what I have become. And now I am reduced to searching for lost trinkets to provoke my memories of my previous life." Allaynna laughed harshly, her eyes holding unimaginable sadness.

"If this Hell is my life, then I'll be damned if I let it beat me."

Beckoning to the barkeeper, she took the key to her room from him but made no move to rise.

((I'm back!!!!))
He scoffed.
"Perhaps instead of searching frantically for mementos of a life that doesn't exist anymore, you should concentrate on what is and is to be. If you dig too deep, you'll find just exactly how far you've fallen. And if you've had any hell like my contemporaries..." He held his gaze upon he and enunciation, "you will regret your memories."

"I have abandoned all titles from my former life and my former enslavement in lieu of a destiny that I shall carve anew. I am merely Anastasus."
"I commend you one that," came the reply, "But to each their own." She sighed and took a drink of her ale, "There's a difference, in my mind, between being the one who clings to life, the one who accepts what has happened and, while trying to rediscover the past, continues to move forward." Laughing harshly, she said, "Predestiny is a blind man's vision. I look for my past so as to become someone who I was not. It's all a new challenge, another test, another chance to improve. Does that make sense?"

Shaking her head, she flexed her hand, watching the light catch on her rings and the streaked crystal.
He smiled beneath his helm and replied with a piqued curiosity, "Madness can only be declared by another. Whether I understand it or not, what matters is your own understanding. I must admit, I am curious as to what our future holds, whether we will outlive the heroes of Azeroth or not.

"Regardless, unless we search for something, we will have no purpose except war. Such a concept does not bother me, though. It merely bores me to have such a wasted existence."
"Somewhere, in the back of my thoughts, I cannot help but wonder if we haven't already outlived them." laughing, the death knight added, "War is all well and good, but what of peace? That too, must have a place. The thrill of a fight, the necessity of bloodshed, my own lust for battle, all of it has its own place." Settling deeper into her chair, she was quiet for a few long seconds before adding, "Hell or heaven, I have heard both sides from different beings. But for me, time is of little consequence, and where I will end up is of just as little matter."

"It's nights like tonight that I find solace in knowing that I think I have made the best of what I have been set."
"Yes, the snow does look quite lovely. I never saw much snow before Northrend. And even then, it look dead and boring."
"Aye, pretty it may be...Northrend was...quite the adventure. Memories, good ones, as death goes. I met my...companion there." Allaynna laughed softly and added, "Won't you join me?" pointing to the seat across the table from her.
He took a seat next to the human and steepled his hands, waiting for her to begin.
"It was at the Wrathgate..." she began.

Cold, not that I was overtly aware of it, but the living members of the group seemed to be uncomfortable. The Horde and the Alliance were preparing to fight, together, against the Lich King's forces. Highlord Bolvar roars as he led us in a charge into the undead.

"Back, you mindless wretches!" he screamed. We were fighting hard, and gaining ground, when the gates opened and Scourge vrykul, shouting in their native tongue, charged out as the lesser undead fell back.

"Fight on, brothers!" Came Fordragon's call.

In the distance, I heard Dranosh Saurfang yelling to the Horde, "Rise up, sons of the Horde! Blood and glory await us!"

Bolvar and Saufang fought side-by-bide, as did the two factions. Once the vrykul forces were dispatched, Bolvar and Dranosh approached the gate with their combined army grouped together behind them. Dranosh glanced at Bolvar, apparently giving him the lead to speak.
"Arthas! The blood of your father, of your people, demands justice! Come forth, coward, and answer for your crimes!" The gate rumbled and open again as Dranosh growled, revealing the Lich King, Frostmourne in hand. The menacing figure ignited something in me, the days, weeks, I spent training under him, it all seemed to me that it might come down to this day.

In a harsh, echoing voice, the undead ruler said, "You speak of justice? Of cowardice? I will show you the justice of the grave and the true meaning of fear." As the Lich King approached us, undead legions rose behind him.

Saurfang leaped at the Lich King, and the Lich King swung Frostmourne, killing the orc instantly. We could only watch in horror as his body fell to the ground, Frostmourne consuming the soul of the slain orc. When Bolvar next spoke, there was no mistaking the seething anger in his voice. "You will pay for all the lives you've stolen, traitor."

"Boldly stated, but there is nothing you can—What?"

An explosion nearby threw me to the ground, accompanied by screams of pain behind around me. Dimly, I heard laughter emanating from the heights. I heard the cold tones of Apothecary Putress speaking, but the words seemed to make no sense. As if from a great distance I heard Bolvar calling out a retreat, but I could not make my limbs cooperate.

I lay there, in the midst of the plague clouds, slipping in and out of awareness for what can't have been more than fifteen minutes, but I'm not sure. The next thing I recall with certainty is a man, appearing through the green clouds, and lifting me. Carrying me out of the diseased hell.

"...I woke up in Dalaran some hours later, the man still sitting there. Tristan. Something seemed to...fit together between us. Lust, need, guilt, fear, there is some sort of mutual understanding between us still." Laughing, she shook her head and took a long drink of her ale.
He motioned for the bartender to bring him alcohol. "Is this Tristan...still alive? Or has he been claimed?"
"He is one of us, surely enough. The living would never dream of stooping so low as to associate so closely with one of out kind." Laughing sadly, she gestured at the place in her chest where he heart once beat, "Anyhow, in a way, it seems sometimes as if we are merely two parts of a whole. More powerful together, lusting after blood and one another." The woman smiled wolfishly.
A very heavly armored worgen warrior enters the inn dressed in hardened elementium armor that in some places gave off a blue glow and fire radiating from it but it wasn't hot. She find a table and sits down and orders a drink and some lunch.
Allaynna looked up as a Worgen entered, nodding cordially, she sighed and rubbed her temples, taking a sip of her ale. Thoughtfully, she looked out the window, wondering, thinking.
Keldoor walked into the inn. He noticed many patrons, most of the Alliance. He wanted to spit on the very ground they walked on. But he needed to rest, and the inn was his only choice. He wore a hooded mask shaped in the form of a demon, and spiked pauldrons eminating of fel energy. His tattoos glowed a light green, the tattoos read of demonic spells and were considered signs of power. Behind him, his imp companion hobbled behind him, Noknik was his name. Noknik was a vile greedy cowardly demon but he feared Keldoor and would listen to any command. Keldoor ordered a drink from the bar. Orcish ale, bitter and strong. As he turned around and headed for his seat he eyed the other patrons carefully, trying to see every detail about them... Keldoor sat down and started to drink his ale...
Everyone in the inn at that time heard shouts outside. They were broken shouts, but shouts nonetheless. "Someone stop that thing!" or "It's getting away!" and one strange one "Fu- -o --h!" which was drowned out by the other shouts. Also there were sounds of people running, and they were getting closer to the inn.

((React to this please))
A hooded figure with a frosty presence entered the Lion's Pride Inn. He looked like a night elf due to his darker skin. He was far from one of those Alliance fools. He sat down at the bar, unarmed, not making any sounds or sudden movement. He motioned for some mead.

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