Alynore

((A commission from the ever-talented Donut Mod! I couldn't resist. Thanks so much! <3 ))

Lower City’s honeycomb of crumbled tenements and tattered tent neighborhoods was entering into an entirely different city. Sha’tar and Shattered Sun patrols were thin below the Terrace. Brown Orcs sold goods to Draenei while Arakkoa conversed with Ethereals. Urchins in ragged clothes herded sheep and chickens across the cracked floor. Thin women and scarred men drifted through the market to the sounds of Ogre bellows and Netherdrake growls. At some point, everyone ended up at the World’s End Tavern, listening to loud music or bad stand-up comedy until their meager coins couldn’t buy the cheapest beer.

Alynore climbed the stairs that zigzagged up the inner wall. The higher your housing in Lower City, the better off you were, until you reached the Terrace or the outskirts. Kamron’s apartment was in the lower part of the middle tier. It was a climb not quite high enough for an elevator stop. Two youths gossiped on a landing and a baby cried through an open window; otherwise, the level was quiet.

Magdalena Appleby yawned.  It was a fine afternoon, despite the season, and the sun slanted in the office windows to warm the room.  The building was silent but for the muffled ticking of the clock in the kitchen.  She fought the urge to nap as she read back over her work.

I never really gave him much thought.

Why should I? It was Ma and me making our way through the broken world. We researched in Kirin’Var, did arcane work for the grunts in Honor Hold, and studied with the High Elves in Allerian. The two redheaded Forrester girls could do anything together and there just wasn’t room for anyone else, not for very long.

For the first time in my life, I find myself wondering.

The bonfire has guttered out and they are dismantling the stage. There are no more torches to throw.

“...You have a beard.”

Seriously? First thing I said, when instead of a wiry Worgen there was a wiry young man standing next to me in that displaced cellar?

Damn dragons.

(( Continuation of http://www.rp-haven.com/blog/nelenna/stormwind_or_wormwind  ))

Nelenna stood quietly slowly scanning the warehouse with her eyes even though she knew the worm was underground right now. She'd managed to convey to Slink to also pipe down, a feat not easy for the energetic Wind Serpent. The last guard had helped her get the injured out, afterwards she sent him to find a healer for the wounded and to get someone else to ensure no one would wander into the warehouse for right now.

The dragoon raised her guildstone up trying to speak into the device softly, ears twitching, "Just checking in, dealing with a small problem in the harbor."

It didn't take long for the stone to sqawk back with Dragoon Giulietta's voice, "Need any help?" The sound causing a rumbling reply on the otherside of the warehouse.

There is no stray breeze for feverish skin. No teasing hint of water for parched throats. Sweat simply evaporates, steaming before it swiftly dissipates.

I stare down at the basin of cold water I just poured. I take a breath and dunk my burning face into it.

"I'm just really awkward and confused and it's the first time I've really felt like this about anyone else."

Exactly my feelings. I have no idea what comes next.

He's a Worgen that can't shift. That's all right though. I like him. I, Alynore Forrester, like a boy. That sounds weird. It also feels good.

The really crazy part is that he likes me too.

Everyone else was right. Damn them.

...I wish my mother was here.

"I am rather sure that part of his problem with shifting is because he's worried that you will no longer enjoy his company anymore," October said.

That sounded ridiculous. "...Why would he think something like that? I told him he should try to get his shifting problem sorted."

"Because of how you treat all the other Human boys around here," she countered. I couldn't really argue that one.

((Following Flirting with Death))

Alynore returned to her quarters after a very long first day as a lieutenant. There was a lot of administrative work to do, making sure everything ran smoothly and everyone did their new job; too many promotions in a short a time could do that, but the Commander trusted they could do it together.

“Hope the others don't mind; I'm younger than many in the unit.”

((Nel just couldn't help it.....timeframe for this is thursday, day after the meeting. ))

Nelenna snickered to herself as she went down the hall, after eavesdropping on the chat between Alynore and Harrigan she couldn't stop thinking about what the Commander had told her with regards to what Nore's mother would say to her.

"Kiss the boy already," The commander had stated, just the fact he had said something like that even if it was what Nore's mom would of said had thrown Nel off. And gotten her brain tied on one idea, from what she'd seen and heard it was obvious that Alynore and Wesley liked each other. While the two may or may not be a match in the long run neither one seemed to be trying. Which Nel supposed it shouldn't be surprising given that all she'd heard indicated Alynore tended to punch men that made moves on her. Wes knowing this would most assuredly not make any moves lest he be pummeled into the infirmary.

It was done. More than a week overdue with the delivery of the lumber he had ordered being delayed several times for more urgent causes -- which Cassion understood to mean that the harbor’s needs and the construction of the ships in the dry docks took priority -- and a bout of rain that rendered the roads between Eastvale and Redridge more mud than solid earth. But, now the logs stood upright, each some six feet tall and weighing in at what he would estimate around fourteen stones. Trickier than actually standing them upright upon their curved bases was actually positioning them at four foot intervals, every one slightly offset from the one before it so as to force those running the course to weave between. Still, it was done.

She hadn't noticed the Judiciary walking in through the open door. In retrospect, she should have figured it out, since it was the Judiciary's office.

“So you like this one then? It's a little busy for my tastes, but I think the colors work well,” Lirriel said.

(( The following thoughts were penned by Mary Jinkwicket in the early hours of the morning and subsequently left on her desk at the offices of Roseate Relic Recovery in the Hall of Explorers, Ironforge.  Any employee or visitor wishing to sneak a peek could do so, given a willingness to relocate the unclaimed pair of lacy lavender underthings resting atop the paper. ))

I've had better nights than tonight.

The sun is warm and welcoming, the occasional cloud shadow scuttling over the cobblestones. A light wind blows in from the forest, bringing with it the smell of fresh planted fields, blossoming flowers, and newly-mowed grass.

I stand at the threshold, watching shafts of sunlight play on the cobblestones.

My breath catches.

Seeing her like that… hurts.  It hurts even more than the things she said.

In my dreams, I saw what happened to her.  She fought, but I knew I never could.  I was not as strong as her.

And now we’re both hiding in the Keep, jumping at every sound, avoiding everyone, even… each other.

She’s as helpless as I am.

This is wrong.

"I said I can't spare Brightsteel, Major.  We have reports of a massive Horde invasion that same night."  Sterling said he waved said reports in the air, " I need him incase we have to move the Royal family to the safe house"

"I'm not requesting that he follows my people to Uldum, Sterling."  Larosa held up her copy of the same report," I just need him to meet my people in the Garden and to stay alert incase my people need to be pulled out."

The paladin snorted and crossed his arms. Larosa sighed and dropped the papers to rub her temples.

Kaewynn shut the door solidly and put her back to it, letting go of the tears she’d held at bay.  It was all wrong, everything was all wrong.  Miss Alynore was back but Kaewynn’s nightmares continued, each worse than the previous one.  She drew pictures to gain some sort of mastery over them.  She started practicing hand to hand combat in the hope that she could learn to protect herself, to give her the confidence she would need if those dreams ever became reality.  It seemed to help.

But Miss Alynore found the pictures and confronted her in the gym.  In its own way, it ended far worse than any nightmare she’d had.

((This part takes place the same time as these two entries: Beginning Lessons and Caged.  Mature for mild and implied violence.))

The Master stepped into the other room his hooded face smiling in the shadows, thrilled to be doing something exciting for once in years.  Burley stepped out next, a grin on his face and the hammer on his shoulder., followed by the priestess, looking as calm and composed as ever.  He knew that she would be able to handle this task, that's why he had asked her to join him, her own time in Outlands had hardened her heart, one of few options you had to survive in that harsh land.

She ached from the beatings and the water she was standing in which leeched the warmth of her body and chilled her to the bone.  She tried to calm herself, her lips forming a prayer; a prayer to the Light which could not find her in her cage.

Someone came and she tried to fight the rising fear, focused on her training and waited.  She would not let them use her as they wished and when he came for her, she fought.

Then his hands were on her neck and everything was cold and black and her mouth filled with water and she couldn’t breath and he kept holding her and she could feel the water seeking a way into her lungs and they burned for want of air and she was going to drown he was going to drown her thewaterwasgoingtokillherohLightno!notthisway!PLEASENOTTHISWAY!

Alynore was cold and wet, and her head still pounded like she was in a Dwarven forge at noon.

She tried to sit up, realizing with barely controlled panic that she was in a cage and knee-deep in water. She couldn't stand up straight; the cage was only four feet tall. There was stone on three sides of her, a waterfall somewhere out of her vision drowning out surrounding noises. Some sort of forest stretched across the opposite bank of the river she was in.

A single man stood on the edge of the sea, watching the sun as the golden disk sank into the horizon.  As the last ray of light seemed to extinguish it’s self in the endless sea, the man turned and began walking back to the small camp hidden in one of the many small secluded coves.

“Time to go,” He said as he approached the small group, pushing his hat up to look at his people, “Sun has set and we need to get our packages to the Cave.”

Three sets of eyes turned to the packages, both tied up with rope and seemingly sleeping  on the sand inside a small cave, guarded by their companion. With a nod

“They should be docile enough to toss onto the back of mules and throw a blanket over,” One dark skinned man said as he headed towards the line of pack animals.

“Sergeant Forrester? I'm lookin' fer a Sergeant Forrester...”

Alynore sighed and rubbed her eyes as she turned to see a young boy—not much older than the Prince, if she had to judge—being pointed her way by a far too amused guard. She adjusted her text books on her arm and tried to smooth that damnable skirt. “Yes, what is it?”

She so hated wearing this dress.

Travis clucked his tongue as he moved around Larosa's bedroom, "All I'm saying is that when the Commander asks what happened, just tell him that you look better then your opponent … It's the truth."

He moved Larosa's teacup closer to her hand before laying down the thick war council minutes beside it.  She did have plenty of time to sit and read it now.  She wasn't going to be moving from her bed for the rest of the night.

"Here are those meeting minutes as well as a copy of the new squad list, Mrs. Goldengale posted.  I put the pine nut bread on the other side of the bed as well as the reports from the interviews from Friday's event," Travis pulled out Larosa's current journal and a pencil, holding it out to her to take, "The current reports from SI:7 are on your desk, if you want those I'll get them for you."

Travis took a breathe, "I also found that salve you like and I got your boots and things from the practice room like you asked, they are in the other room.  Anything else I can do before I hit the rack, Major?"

Alynore picked up the practice blade and made a few moves with it. She didn't normally bother with two-handers, but she needed the practice, and felt the need to just beat on something anyway. The practice dummy in the training yard would do.

“Who is he, anyway?”
“He who?”
“That guy you were flirting with last night that got me shoved into a wall for commenting on.”

Alynore sighed and ran a hand through her hair, fallen out of its customary ponytail by this hour. The papers spread out before her were filled with annotated schematics of her initial plans to fix the robot she'd found in the ruins of the Old Barracks—now Kaewynn. Long lines of code on yet more pages blurred and danced in her vision as she yawned and the bells of the Cathedral struck three times across the city.

She tossed the formal report on top of the rest, banding them together under a cover page. She'd get a couple hours sleep before dropping the notes and paperwork on the Commander's desk. He wouldn't understand a quarter of the two inch thick binder, but fel, he had a lieutenant that could now.

The first was mass produced and tacked up on every post-board in the hall. 

The second was left in Sergeant Forrester's room.

The Third was crumpled and then un-crumpled as it did have semi-important things to do on it.