ritual

All the old wounds in my life seemed to groan into life, I swear I could feel where Dutaee’s fist collided with my face all those years ago, it wasn’t really the case, but brew fest seemed to be like all the abuse I had ever taken rolled into one painful mess.

 It is ritual before battle.

Mairead enters her small apartment in Dalaran and locks the door behind her. Her green eyes focus on the bare floor where she had sketched out a summoning circle earlier in the day. Her voice raises up in a soft song as she moves towards the nearby table, her hand brushing against the overstuffed pouch at her side.

 My participation had cost me. I stumbled out of the front doors of the club, catching myself with hands and knees on the cobble stone. The guards at the door paid me no mind, I was just another drunk patron and there wasn’t enough blood to be concerned about. Dalaran spun around me, blurs of colors, faces, walls I would collide into. I was disorientated, sick, fel raced through my blood like so much fire. Everything on me hurt, the teeth marks on my neck and collar bone and the deep slices on each palm were the leaders in the throbbing melody my body had become. Warlock magic is a fickle thing, one must give to receive, the only reason I was so dangerous is because I held no self preservation, I drained myself dry on a regular basis, laid my life in the hands of my magic, and would expel my very soul if it meant I accomplished my means. Just another half mad warlock…….

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Every demon is insane. Multiple personalities spawn when the being is tortured by its demonic captors. The demons use blade and spell to break the sanity, fracture it, and bring the darkest of the mortal’s traits to bear. They would then leave, and allow the corrupted victims mind tear itself apart, and allow the most dangerous and brutal of the personalities’ to take control. From that point onward, the mortal would be a demon, its needs and life would be centered on desires of that single personality. Eventually it would “become”, and its true name would be revealed completing its transformation.

  The plan started as a disaster, something I could completely place on Blackmarrow, it was his idea after all to never tell me that the priest he had chosen to help us separate Iloam and my soul was Kharris.  Apparently they had struck a deal, something again he had never told me about, something about the truce that he wouldn’t end Iloam’s life if she agreed to spare mine. 

It was going to be a very dangerous situation. Of that, she was certain.

(Originally posted December 29th, 2005)

Making our way south from Thunder Bluff, Crimonia gazed about and smiled. "Mulgore has the best sky. Sometimes I explore, just to see what the sky is like in each place..."

(Originallly posted on December 29th, 2005)

They had marked me.

The Tanaris sand skitters across our boots and the desert wind is hot on our necks, but I don’t notice, I’m so intent on him. I found him.

Ironic, somewhat, Elecsi thought to herself, that meeting a sin’dorei would put her back into her kaldorei sleep patterns. The thought was only at the edge of her mind, however, as she struggled to catch her breath. The sunlight of Ashenvale streamed in through the window, over the now-empty bed and onto the stone floor.

It was raining lightly in Zangarmarsh, as Elecsi almost stumbled through the swampy grass as her foot sank ankle-deep in mud. Wincing slightly, she pulled herself from the mud and continued forward, finally standing on the stone of the portal that stood cracked and sinking into the marsh, silent.

The grizzled Orc's eyes darted back and forth, from shadow to shadow, as he slipped into his coarse brown tent beneath the starry Silithus sky. Laughter and singing and music filled the camp, most of it coming from the large communal tent.

My fingers flex, trying to spread open. They are constrained by vile and dripping bandages wound around them, that hang like fresh tattered flesh. Beneath, the ragged cloth chaffs against open gashes in my palm, stinging as they drink fast my offering. They taste-test, chewing slowly at my discomfort, and dribble in long, sticky strands beside me that which is acceptable.

(( Originally posted October 22, 2006 @ RealmPortal ))

I was glad it wasn't raining. I've never been fond of the rain, and the image of Mulgore crying after Cairne fell was a little too fresh in my mind. I wanted to feel calm, peaceful and collected, but I was nervous enough to pace in a very unlady-like fashion.

I didn't see the Doctor approach at first, didn't realise he hadn't selected the site and I would have to show him the way, didn't even remember where it was for a moment. Fortunately, I had a map, and I didn't get us lost along the way. We reached the Pavilion, and though annoyed by the presence of the Elf who never seems to leave, Doctor Vines declared it potentially acceptable. We continued to examine it as we waited for Anastascia. Well, he examined it, I examined him.

(( Originally posted August 26, 2006 @ RealmPortal ))

“I’ll see you all later.”

What are you doing?

I’m leaving, that’s obvious.

This is the second time in two nights, get a grip.

(( Originally posted December 12, 2006 @ RealmPortal ))

(( Originally posted June 26, 2006 @ RealmPortal ))

Koani takes out a decorated box, and opens it.

These things are symbols, of the person I was.

So much has changed, but I, like too many of us, am still caught up in what I was, what I have lost. I’m in stasis, and remaining like that, it is barely existing.

(( Originally posted April 6, 2006 @ RealmPortal ))

I left the Nether Theory class rather abruptly. I’d considered staying, wanted to ask Tabaqui is she was doing better than she had been when she’d left last night, but it seemed foolish. “I know I barely know you and work for people you hate, but I wanted to make sure your feelings weren’t hurt too bad by the insensitive jerk last night.” My socials skills may not need as much work as Doctor Vines’, but I couldn’t find a way to phrase it, and everyone was involved in other conversations anyway, so I just left.

We were in Ashenvale, but we’d stayed so long in that area that even my skill crawled with the feeling of it. It was ridiculous, as silly as trying to clean in a pool between Satyr colonies, but I did it anyway. Sat in the water with my eyes closed and tried to pretend that Fel Taint didn’t permeate my entire hated body.