Post by Ehran on Mar 14, 2005 0:25:00 GMT -5
Hey folks, I'll be doing some writing for WoWVault before too long, but I figured I'd share the writing here first, and see what you all thought first!
Let me know what you think...enjoy.
-Ehran
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I awoke with a start, my heart beating fast. I could almost hear the echoes from within my dream, the wailing screams of the dying and diseased as the war passed them by. I took a deep breath and wiped the sweat from my face, then extricated myself from the twisted sheets. For the past three days I’d had the same dreams each night…I’d see a blasted village turned into a battlefield, and the cries of the people would seem to all be aimed at me, as if I were to blame for their destruction. It was still the dead of night as I made my way softly down the stairs and stepped outside the inn. The cool night air helped to banish the last remnants of the nightmare and I spent a few minutes just gazing up at the sky. In my mind’s eye I saw the world as the old legends tell us it was – one great land, filled with magic and vibrant life. A land that was sundered by the Kaledori in order to banish the Burning Legion when they first came to devour the magic of our world ages ago. I was snapped out of my reverie by the sound of soft footsteps behind me, but I didn’t turn until I felt a light touch on my shoulder.
“Couldn’t sleep?” It was Caranos, a human who had aided me recently in fighting off a group of Naga that had attacked me while I was exploring some ruins. He was a good enough sort, though a bit overprotective of those he’d decided he was helping. I smiled up at him.
“I’ve just got a bit on my mind, I suppose” I replied. “But what about you? I thought you were exhausted.”
“I am.” I could see that it was true; his shoulders sagged and he had bags under his eyes. “But you cried out…I wanted to make sure yer alright.” His concern was touching, if unnecessary. He’d taken the brunt of the attack back at the ruins, and still needed time to recover.
“I’m fine, Caranos. Go back to bed. I think I may just walk for a bit.” He started to argue, but he ‘was’ tired, and after a moment he finally grumbled and went back inside.
I turned my attention back to the dreams as I wandered slowly around the silent village. The echoing cries had faded, but the uneasy feeling had not yet left me completely. I knew why I was worried; the information I’d been able to unearth at the most recent ruins suggested that it had taken the combined strength of the old gods and the destruction of the Well of Eternity to banish the Burning Legion before. We are faced now with both the threat of the Legion’s return, and the much more imminent danger posed by the Scourge. We need the strength of the ancient heroes and more to stand a chance against that which might destroy us, and our heroes are fading with every month that passes. We lost Malfurion to the Emerald Dream, and the tenuous peace we’d had with the Horde had shattered the moment we were not in imminent danger. There was little surprise that I was seeking hope in the old tales and legends, but my dreams were a clear indication of how optimistic I was really feeling.
After a while, the quiet was broken by the drowsy chirping of morning birds. As I watched the horizon slowly brighten, I felt my spirits rise a little. We weren’t doomed yet, after all…and not all the old heroes were dead. Something I’d read long ago came to mind then. In the midst of that waking village, with the first rays of dawn caressing my face, I remembered that some of the old heroes had been put to sleep in much the same way as our druids had been. Now, I know that most of the old legends and myths that I’ve come across are just that – myths, but many have at least a grain of truth, and some are amazing in their exactitude. I began to get excited as I realized that the codex I’d found this particular legend in was known for its veracity in regards to many other things it had reported. The only trouble was that the only copy of it remaining was in the city of Stormwind, and that was quite a trip from where I currently was. I almost abandoned the idea at that point; I was finally comfortable and had very little love of the cities of humans, but an image of the codex floated in my mind. I saw the spidery script of the scribe who had compiled all of these stories together, the twisting curves of his letters and the crude illustrations he had tried to add.
I smiled to myself then, because I knew that any reluctance I had in returning to the human lands would be helpless in the face of my desire to review that codex again. I’d argue with myself for a while over it, of course, but I knew that by the end of the day I’d be taking out my worn saddle and riding north as quickly as I could. To nobody’s surprise, least of all my own, that is exactly what happened…but what did surprise me was that I did not leave alone.
Let me know what you think...enjoy.
-Ehran
---------------
I awoke with a start, my heart beating fast. I could almost hear the echoes from within my dream, the wailing screams of the dying and diseased as the war passed them by. I took a deep breath and wiped the sweat from my face, then extricated myself from the twisted sheets. For the past three days I’d had the same dreams each night…I’d see a blasted village turned into a battlefield, and the cries of the people would seem to all be aimed at me, as if I were to blame for their destruction. It was still the dead of night as I made my way softly down the stairs and stepped outside the inn. The cool night air helped to banish the last remnants of the nightmare and I spent a few minutes just gazing up at the sky. In my mind’s eye I saw the world as the old legends tell us it was – one great land, filled with magic and vibrant life. A land that was sundered by the Kaledori in order to banish the Burning Legion when they first came to devour the magic of our world ages ago. I was snapped out of my reverie by the sound of soft footsteps behind me, but I didn’t turn until I felt a light touch on my shoulder.
“Couldn’t sleep?” It was Caranos, a human who had aided me recently in fighting off a group of Naga that had attacked me while I was exploring some ruins. He was a good enough sort, though a bit overprotective of those he’d decided he was helping. I smiled up at him.
“I’ve just got a bit on my mind, I suppose” I replied. “But what about you? I thought you were exhausted.”
“I am.” I could see that it was true; his shoulders sagged and he had bags under his eyes. “But you cried out…I wanted to make sure yer alright.” His concern was touching, if unnecessary. He’d taken the brunt of the attack back at the ruins, and still needed time to recover.
“I’m fine, Caranos. Go back to bed. I think I may just walk for a bit.” He started to argue, but he ‘was’ tired, and after a moment he finally grumbled and went back inside.
I turned my attention back to the dreams as I wandered slowly around the silent village. The echoing cries had faded, but the uneasy feeling had not yet left me completely. I knew why I was worried; the information I’d been able to unearth at the most recent ruins suggested that it had taken the combined strength of the old gods and the destruction of the Well of Eternity to banish the Burning Legion before. We are faced now with both the threat of the Legion’s return, and the much more imminent danger posed by the Scourge. We need the strength of the ancient heroes and more to stand a chance against that which might destroy us, and our heroes are fading with every month that passes. We lost Malfurion to the Emerald Dream, and the tenuous peace we’d had with the Horde had shattered the moment we were not in imminent danger. There was little surprise that I was seeking hope in the old tales and legends, but my dreams were a clear indication of how optimistic I was really feeling.
After a while, the quiet was broken by the drowsy chirping of morning birds. As I watched the horizon slowly brighten, I felt my spirits rise a little. We weren’t doomed yet, after all…and not all the old heroes were dead. Something I’d read long ago came to mind then. In the midst of that waking village, with the first rays of dawn caressing my face, I remembered that some of the old heroes had been put to sleep in much the same way as our druids had been. Now, I know that most of the old legends and myths that I’ve come across are just that – myths, but many have at least a grain of truth, and some are amazing in their exactitude. I began to get excited as I realized that the codex I’d found this particular legend in was known for its veracity in regards to many other things it had reported. The only trouble was that the only copy of it remaining was in the city of Stormwind, and that was quite a trip from where I currently was. I almost abandoned the idea at that point; I was finally comfortable and had very little love of the cities of humans, but an image of the codex floated in my mind. I saw the spidery script of the scribe who had compiled all of these stories together, the twisting curves of his letters and the crude illustrations he had tried to add.
I smiled to myself then, because I knew that any reluctance I had in returning to the human lands would be helpless in the face of my desire to review that codex again. I’d argue with myself for a while over it, of course, but I knew that by the end of the day I’d be taking out my worn saddle and riding north as quickly as I could. To nobody’s surprise, least of all my own, that is exactly what happened…but what did surprise me was that I did not leave alone.
