Argus
Memories of Argus: Nothing Dies
The branches of the zayta trees glistened in the afternoon sunlight, trembling as if a gentle breeze rocked them to and fro. I looked up at them and marvelled at the plump fruit that hung from each branch; our garden’s trees rarely bore fruit so early in the season, and when they did, the zayta were bitter and hard to the touch. Not even the many uulin who pestered the garden with their tiny teeth and sharp eyes dared nibble on an early zayta. Yet these fruit appeared tender - and out of the corner of my eye, I could see a tiny uulin huddled against an upturned tree-root, his lizard hands clutching a morsel of fresh zayta flesh.
War in the Marsh
((Continued from Science in the Marsh))
There was rifle fire, then an explosion, and Qoruul instinctively ducked his head, his heart thudding in his chest. In his mind’s eye, he could see the grey-green smoke blooming in the Lower City, the teeming black-armored orcs like so many ants; no less dimly, he also saw the crystal spires of Mac’Aree shudder and reflect the fel-green fire as the power-maddened Eredar exalted in their transformation. By the time his brain registered that the sounds were further to the north, he had broken a sweat on his bony brow and his shoulders trembled amid the tall marsh grasses. He chided himself; foolish, really, to be so haunted by the past. Bracing his hands against the loamy ground, he moved to stand…
Click-click.
“Don’t move an inch, goat.”
Memories of Argus: Choices
Sheltered beneath the peaks of Kaarinos, each day flowed into the next as if time itself was a water-jug that had been upturned, its contents spilling across the ground. To this day, I cannot put a number to the weeks and days I spent wandering the cold halls of my grandmother’s fortress. Oh, yes, the annals of history can recount this time with scholar’s precision, but to me, it was long sunrise melting into silent dusk giving way to long sunrise. One endless day, endless week, endless year.
One by one, Eredar of all kinds began showing up at the threshold of Nadja’s home, backs burdened and eyes downcast. I saw farmers, scholars, males, females, young and old ushered in through the frosted gates, fed, clothed and comforted. My grandmother’s servants, once accustomed to tending to her capricious needs, were directed towards the service of these refugees. I suppose, at first, it was a kind of relief: filling a hungry farmer’s belly or soothing a sobbing child gives a far different joy than simply pleasing your mistress - but the demands of the growing throngs of refugees soon threatened to overwhelm these harried servants.
The Road to Peace
"What are you thinking about, Exarch?" The question was direct and not in the least bit whimsical.
Blood choking the once glowing rivers of Argus, Mac'aree in ruins and nuclear fire burning the horizon.
"I am thinking of Argus." came the even reply. He would not have been forthcoming had he not been asked--it was not something considered desirable to dwell upon.
Tenets of the Light - The First Vindicator
Most high, all powerful, all good Light of life!
All praise is yours, all glory, all honor, and all blessing.
When faced with the cunning tongues of those who had been fellows when they strode among the faithful and sought to sway them from Velen's holy writ, thus spake the one annointed to be Vindicator by Divine Velen, defending himself and his people from evil:
I don't ask where you come from or where you are going. You've left us in no doubt as to your beliefs.
You call us Eredun. You call us... 'brothers'.
Yes. Most of us were Eredar. Our names are Eredun, our tongue is Eredun, our old hand-written texts are in Eredun script.
Be praised, Light, through all your creatures,
especially through my lord Brother Sun,
who brings the day; and you give light through him.
And he is beautiful and radiant in all his splendor!
Of you, Most High, he bears the likeness.
Survival
I have heard tales of Argus, of what our homeworld was. I have heard of the shining streets of Mac'Aree and the shimmering waters which flowed through the mountains. Elders wove their memories into our imagination, until I believed that I might never see such wonder, such magnificence, with my own eyes. But I have.
Enkilzar - The Draenic Passover
When: April 30, 6:00PM ST
Where: Exodar
Enkilzar, the Draenei ceremony memorializing the Flight from Argus, will be held in the Exodar on Thursday, April 30th, at 7PM Server Time. All races friendly to the Draenei are welcome to attend. Exarch Arutaan will be speaking the prayers in Draenic, but Common will be spoken throughout and we will certainly set up a translator. =)
Forging the Sword
The children shouted with glee, leaping upon him as he entered the cramped building. Hanging from his legs, his arms, and one adventerous soul even scampering up his hair, they clung to him, chanting, "Storrehtellar! Storrehtellar! Tell us a storreh!" as he simply chuckled, carrying them along as if they were leaves dangleing from his massive form. Their Matron settled into a chair with a weary sigh, grateful for the distraction and chance to rest.
"Hrm.... very well...but then it is time for bed..."
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