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Post by Val on Jan 30, 2006 22:08:28 GMT -5
"Been a long time gone, hasn't it?"
Valand turned to see an oddly dressed man, coated in black standing before him. Clean shaven with long black hair pulled back into a pony tail, he leaned against the wall of the kitchen without a care.
"Who are you?" Valand said as he rose up from his seat.
The man smiled as his green eyes flashed.
"Don't remember me? You did try and kill me after all."
Valand stood his ground, his face began to contort as he made an effort to acknowledge what the man was referring to.
"I have never met you in my life, how would I have tried to kill you."
The man stood straight up, nearly the same height as Valand, slim frame by comparison to Valand's. He was still no twig by any means. He pulled back his cloak revealing two glistening daggers below his belt.
"You remember these don't you?"
Valand stared at the daggers, trying to piece together the clues the man was giving him.
"I have no idea what your talking about."
The man's face furrowed, his eyes sharpened like tiny blades.
"I saw you in Ironforge, you were a fool to return, you must have thought that by joining this guild you would hide or erase your bloody history. But I know who you are, and you won't get away with what you did to me."
Valand stood, he could feel the tension building into the air.
"I have no idea what your..." He was cut off as a dagger flew from the man's hand, stabbing a deep wound in Valand's shoulder.
The man leapt back into the darkness of the Ensign Kitchen. Valand ripped the tiny knife from his shoulder tossing it to the ground. Hearing movement from behind he spun to see the man with his blades aimed for his neck diving after him. Valand took a step to the side and with tremendous strength grabbed the smaller man by the wrists and flung him into a table, destroying the objects around it. The man was up in a flash, but Valand was right there, grabbing his collar and driving his fist into the side of the man's face, you could hear a crunch as his teeth were broken. Valand kicked the man to the side and began to run down the hallway, he left his com in his room. Speeding he turned around to see the smaller man was gone, He then felt a sharp pain in his stomach, he turned around to see the man in front of him, with a burning glare staring at Valand. Both blades were embedded in his torso.
Inside his mind, Valand felt a snap.
Reaching outward, he grabbed the man by his throat and began to choke. The assailant in astonished horror began to twist the blades. Valand took no notice of the pain boiling in his torso, with every turn Valand drove his for head into the man's face, first shattering his nose, then Valand's in the process. Blood trickled on the floor as they both were embraced. Finally with one heaving surge of rage Valand ripped the man's arms and daggers out of his stomach and heaved him into a wall with enough force that he could hear a pop as the man collided with the stone. Valand, now in such a blood rage grabbed the man and began bludgeoning him in the skull, blow after blow he rained down upon him. Finally as Valand started to calm, he let him drop, and clutched the bleeding wound on his stomach.
The man, scratching at the floor began to gasp for air. Valand stood and hobbled to the door to his room. Inside he found his com, grabbing it he pressed it on.
"Defenders, I need some help, again..."
"I really need to get into another hobby, like fishing."
He stumbled out into the hallway, only through sheer determination and stamina did he make it out there. The man was gone, a trail of blood led to a nearby window, which was unfortunately a 30 foot drop. No matter, Valand was in enough trouble as is.
He paced himself back into the room and scrambled for bandages, Doc had given him a crash course on Battlefield First Aid. Sadly, Doc left out how to stop yourself from bleeding as you began to pass out. Grabbing a luffa from the pack he tried to soak up as much blood as he could, but to no avail. The wounds were deep, very deep. The blood gushed from the wound and trickled all over his bed. Sitting he began to hastily wrap a bandaged, over the ripped bandages from earlier, and the bloody shirt he had on. Knowing it was no use, he leaned over to his com one last time.
"Defenders, I need some help, I'm in my room, Valand...out..."
He began to slump over to the side, "At least it wasn't on the stone floor." he thought as he began to lose consciousness.
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Monuv
New Arrival
Posts: 24
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Post by Monuv on Jan 31, 2006 9:48:10 GMT -5
Monuv had just stopped back into the halls (which was quite rare) for some much needed rest after his ordeals in Northshire when he heard his old friend Valand's voice over his buzzbox.
"Defenders, I need some help, again..."
"Oh Gods where? Where Valand??!?!!!??" Monuv screamed, but forgot to push in his button in haste. He started to run for the stables.
"Defenders, I need some help, I'm in my room, Valand... out..."
Monuv skid to a halt and turned toward the vast Ensign wing. "Oh dear..." Monuv hailed the first person he could, a maid, and frantically asked for directions to Valand's room. The frantic part didn't seem to phase the maid.
"Well dearie, you just walk straight down this hall here, when you get to the second door, make a right in that next hallway, then you'll see some stairs after just a few steps, go up there and then make another left. Count ten doors and you'll find him..."
"Thanks!" Monuv took off running, but was soon lost. Stopping to get his bearings, he started to count the doors as he ran- wait! Stairs! Taking the steps three at a time-
"Wait..." He stopped suddenly at the top of the stairs. "Did she say left or right?" He pressed in the button, "Valand, are you left or right of the stairs?"
No answer...
"Light guide me!" Monuv closed his eyes and concentrated. Looking to his right, a normal hallway. Looking to his left, there was broken glass and much blood on the floor. "Thank you!" He yelled up into the ceiling as he took off for Valand's room where he found the warrior in a similar predicament from most times they traveled together - this man loved his beatings.
Calling forth his now quite powerful prayers, Monuv healed the battered man without effort.
"There, now wake up you lazy!"
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Post by Polrena on Jan 31, 2006 18:21:08 GMT -5
Polrena sprinted to Valand's rooms, by now quite comfortable with its location and direction from her own in the Virtue Wing. As she flew through the door, her mind assimilated both Valand's bloody and torn clothing, and the presence of Monuv.
The priestess had recently been elevated to the status of Lady of Virtue, and though she knew little what that meant she had to do, she did know that one must trust one's soldiers. Or at least appear to. Monuv was one of her soldiers, and though she found his treatments a trifle unorthodox at times, she knew also that he would have tended to anything needing attending.
Perhaps too well, actually; through experience, Polrena knew Valand liked to stay in low-grade pain, as a reminder of his battles.
Instead of checking on Valand's injuries, then, she turned to Monuv. "I see my presence here is unneeded! Shall I send for soup and liquids, or have you seen to that already?"
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Post by Val on Feb 1, 2006 11:47:43 GMT -5
Valand's eyes rolled back into his head, only for a few moments, but it seemed like hours. Awakening back on his bed, a familiar mustached priest hovered over him, conversing with another priestess.
"I see my presence here is unneeded! Shall I send for soup and liquids, or have you seen to that already?"
Valand raised his hand, still faint as he still had a lot of blood to start to circulate once again.
"No need Lady." He managed
Looking down at him, he crawled his way up to a settled position, his upper back and neck propped against the bedframe, he lay there in a silent comfort.
"You know, I really do need to start another hobby, this whole fighting and getting stabbed thing is kind of getting weary." He smiled lightly.
Looking at the two priests he started to chuckle.
"But I can't do that, it would cut down on the commision for the Virtue house, wouldn't it?" He started to laugh.
Resting his eyes, he reflected back to what had just occured not 20 minutes ago.
"To come back?"
Valand felt a heavy sigh as he knew that his downtime was going to be a short one.
"I shouldn't have even expected any free time."
He closed his eyes and felt a warmth start to creep back onto him. He was healing, that is good enough.
"Padre, I have to thank you for your help, wouldn't be the first time, would it?"
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Monuv
New Arrival
Posts: 24
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Post by Monuv on Feb 1, 2006 22:20:21 GMT -5
"Nor will it be the last." Monuv bowed slightly to Polrena as he walked into the room and sat next to Valand on the bed. "What in the name of the gods happened here? Should we raise the alarm?"
"No, no... I don't think so..." Valand recalled what he could about the altercation, bits and pieces missing, fogged by the battle rage. Both of the priests grew increasingly more concerned as the tale transpired.
"So... what's going on exactly?" Monuv asked the question after moments of silence.
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Post by Val on Feb 2, 2006 0:44:02 GMT -5
Valand opened his eyes and looked at the ceiling, the stone up there was dark, the light from the lantern lit the room.
"So... what's going on exactly?" Monuv asked
Valand looked at his friend and felt almost bad for bringing them into this, especially if he had no idea what was going on.
"I honestly, do not know Padre."
He propped himself up more, the blood circulating much better now.
"I was assailed by a man who claimed I tried to murder him? But I have only met him just tonight."
"As if being mentally unstable wasn't bad enough"
Valand felt like he was being cornered by circumstance, having some sort of crazed paranoia that comes on him, while now being hunted by a vengeful rogue. Luck must have hated him.
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Post by Polrena on Feb 2, 2006 1:17:37 GMT -5
She knew Valand had lost a lot of blood, as evidenced by his clothing and the discarded bandages. Though she would not even think of interrupting, however, neither was she about to take medical advice from a patient. Instead, she stood apart from the men during their conversation, silent but watchful.
During a pause in their conversation, having taken Monuv's silence to her question as a negative, she commed her faithful aid, Katja, and spoke in a soft voice. "Katja, soup and water for Valand, in his quarters." She listened to the quiet voice on the other end. "When does he NOT lose a lot of blood?" Another pause. "Just bring it as quickly as you can. And stand over him until he eats every last bit." A question from the other end. "Yes, by any means necessary. Polrena out."
She resumed her normal volume. "I'll leave you gentlement to it, then." She turned to leave. "Oh, and Valand," she said over her shoulder, her voice as sweet as cream and as implacable as a summer storm, "You will stay in this room and you will eat what Katja brings you this time. No sneaking out. You don't want me to speak to Lord Vangelis."
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Post by Val on Mar 9, 2006 22:31:22 GMT -5
"Blast it all to hell..." he thought.
She might as well had cut him down where he stood. This was the last time he would want to be stuck in his room tending wounds. The room fell silent as she made her graceful step out the door. He had watched her close the door behind her and if it weren't for his immense respect and adoration he had for the priestess he would have cursed at her aloud. Monuv still remained with a silence of question.
"It's getting late, let's talk about it tommorow." Monuv smiled as he made his way for the door.
"Your leaving me here too Padre?" Valand replied, a playful temper arose.
"It is as the light commands!" Monuv shouted, the grin spread across his face made it completely clear that he inteded for that comment to sound sarcastic at best.
Valand smiled as Monuv closed the door behind him. He lay in that bed for the longest 15 minutes of his life, thinking of the events before. His meeting with Oxanna, the "problems" and the attack... He was supposed to be taking some downtime.
Polrena had promised him his confinement, this had happened before. All the times he had come stumbling into his room half drained of life, grabbing at his luffa and smothering the bloodflow with bandages, only to fall into a daze in his room praying that he would wake. How many times had he wished he didn't wake. He had been treated by Katja, Polrena's servant several times in his duration, not once was he coherent to the event.
He was supposed to be taking some downtime.
He put out his burning oil lamp and fell asleep, filled with swirling thoughts of his assailant. Would he come back?
The sleep finally took over.
He felt the presence of someone near him, they somehow managed to open the doors to his room. Did that assasin come back? He felt the soft moonlight from the windows in the hall shine through his doorway. Someone was moving things around him. Confusion set in, he remained perfectly still as he was trained to by Warden Fechak.
"If'n yer a light sleeper, ye can take advantage o' someone tryin' ta kill ye in yer sleep."
That lesson came after Fechak and Doc thought him asleep in Bruuk's after a long evening. In their drunken visage they thought, why not tie Valand's legs to the chair and then scream that the Horde was attacking Ironforge. After Fechak could no longer manage to hold in a burp Valand shot up and grabbed ahold of Caspin as he loomed overtop him with a rope. That fight ended quickly enough.
The intruder set something down on the floor next to the table. He could hear the light breathing, this person was of a smaller frame.
They moved in closer, he could feel their hand move over his lips, Valand's heart began to pound as he thought them going for his throat. They stopped over his mouth and checked for breathing. Once more the hand turned back. Soon it returned, they moved their hands toward the base of his chest.
"Not this time."
Valand sprung to life just as the intruder placed their hand of his chest. Grabbing the person's hand he pulled it off of him and following after in a quit fluid movement he grasped their other arm and forced their torso into his lap, sitting up quickly he looked down into the intruder's face.
The shining blue eyes reflected in the moonlight, her blond hair draped across his lap, he could see his reflection in those eyes. A woman of beauty with the expression of sheer terror. He released at once, not knowing who it was, but he had a good feeling.
"Katja?"
The woman stiffened and stood up with a bounce.
"Who else?"
Valand could have listed off several hundred names but decided that he would leave her comment as it was.
"The next time you decide to get yourself wounded don't attack your nurse." she said, her tone was aggresive, but he could sense that she was moire than likely still a bit startled.
"I'm sorry."
She stood, back to the moonlight, casting a reflection on him.
Tall, thin as an athlete should be, healthy but not fat by any means. The markings of a warrior or some sort. He could see her outline, she boasted womanly curves that if need be could crush the breath out of most men's lungs should she feel the need to flaunt them. He emptied the thought as quickly as it came in.
"Lean up, drink this."
She flicked the lamp on with a match. He could see her face once more. She stood over him without concern, more of an aggitated look of urgency. She held out the bowl to him as he sat up, letting his sheets drift down into his lap, his bandages were still wet, but he wasn't bleeding. Drinking the broth from the bowl he laid it down next to him. She seemed a bit more relaxed as she calmed herself.
"I apologize once again for scaring you, I've been having a rough night."
She smiled this time, looking down at the bowl of soup she began to speak.
"No, it wasn't your fault, I should have knocked."
Valand smiled.
"But then you would have ruined your flawless record of never treating me while I am conscious."
She laughed, a short, little laugh, but laughter nonetheless.
"Well, I am Katja, I will be your nurse for the evening."
"And I am Valand, I will be trying my hardest to make your job a nightmare."
They both laughed.
Valand drank his broth and stared straight ahead.
They talked for the next hour or so as Valand ate his serving. She sat on a stool near the end table listening and sharing tales the same. Eventually the conversation fell to his wounds.
"Why is it that your always so broken and battered?" she asked.
Valand sighed, the same conversation would ensue, followed by the same reply on how he was being foolish.
"I wear my scars, my wounds, my suffering as a reminder. This pain helps me suffer in combat like most men should never have to. I know that I will not always be in the presence of a talented priest, so I take the knowledge that I will have to fight my enemies with bleeding wounds. The better I can take the pain, the better I can ignore it. I live with the pain of my wounds until nature takes it's course."
He looked at her, expecting the same comments.
"That makes sense."
A genuine smile erupted from his face.
"I may not agree, but it makes perfect sense."
"Good enough for me."
The night was winding to a close and he had managed a few meager hours of sleep. Katja had spoken to him on a great deal of things before she left, Valand sat up and pondered on the things she had said.
"What is wrong with your hand." She had asked.
"It was a scar left on my from my trials up north."
"It looks infected."
"It doesn't hurt."
"That's not what I meant." She said. "I said it looked infected, not if it hurt."
"What do you mean?"
"You look sick a lot. I can see it in your eyes, your face, the way you hide your hand."
"I don't understand."
"You do, but you don't want to tell me, which I can respect. Your hand is infected with something that you want to deal with yourself."
Valand remained silent.
"I apologize, I was out of line for saying that."
Valand managed a smile.
"It's quite all right, I just didn't know I was so transparent."
"I've always been told that if you think about it the right way, everyone is a book." She said.
They shared a laugh, that thought remained in his head for the rest of the night, and into the wee hours of the morning.
Valand had gained little or no sleep but was awake enough to travel outside of the Hall and watch the sun rise over Stormwind Keep.
He would return to his room before full daybreak and sleep late.
The next day would have many questions to come.
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Post by Zaknas Alevall on Mar 16, 2006 0:27:40 GMT -5
Nursing bloodied wounds, that monster of a man had nearly broken his face in half. So much for an assasination attempt.
He had watched him from a distance, just as he did the others. He watched them all, sizing them up, learning their routines, their patterns, their rituals. He had even went as far as to watch them sleep, how they eat. He would shadow their lives to the finest point. He couldn't do this with him. He had on so many attempts tried to coax the man out of his room, with letters, strange noises. All different sorts of attempts. None, he was a hermit to say the least. He never did the same thing twice, his life was so sporadic at times he wondered if he was even sober at all. The only time he could see him outside he would train with several varied weapons. Nothing out of the norm. This is why it was so surprising to see him in the crowd of such a virtuous group. As he lay in the grass his thoughts drifted back.
"It was 15 years earlier, I was a mercenary assasin, known widely through Lordaeron, being one of the youngest and yet most efficient at his work. I had mostly been used as leverage above several gangs to keep in check. Then one evening I was called to be recruited by the 4 of them. They spoke to me in the basement of a Tavern late one winter's evening. I watched them all place down their sacks of gold, and with a thud of my knife I signed a deal. I was meant to assasinate a high ranking Stormwind Official that had looked too far north and caused all of their buisnesses a great deal of pain.
Jeremine Harth - The iron fisted head over the street urchins that ran about the city as pick pockets, he was a close friend of...
Geldin Fornd - A silent man, bent to the side, he ran the gambling and racketeering circuits through the city, he was in close buisness with...
Varn Dirge - The leader and sole founder of the largest kidnapping, slavery and pirating faction spread throughout Lordaeron.
Then there was the last man, who had never set foot in Lordaeron, but was known widely through their criminal markets as one of the most savage men who had ever walked the darkened alleys of the underworld.
Tere Golorand - He was once a iron clad mercenary from the south, after breaking bone after bone in his climb to power he had become the leader of a powerful mercenary troop called the 'Iron Caste"
The job was simple at the time... leave Lordaeron, find the Officer, kill him in any manner. Bring his left hand back as evidence. I set out, and sure enough, I had foun d him. Being a powerful name in the Noble caste of the Stormwind politics I waited. Then, finally, my opportunity arised. I found the Noble, drunken and in a stupor in the alleys of Old Town. An easy target to say the least. I eased up to him, and helped him to his feet, as I did I rammed a shiv into his kidneys. I watched his eyes shout out at me "Murderer!" and I dropped him to the ground. As I turned I saw them, fifteen men stood between me and my exit.
"We send word from your employer."
A gun went off, striking me hard in the chest, another shortly after, hitting me in the throat. I don't know how long I bled until they found me. The Stormwind Guards found my next to the mudered nobleman with a bloody knife in my hand, with that kind of case they didn't bother asking questions of what happened to me. I spent several years in the Stockades, that is until the Defias uprising. After cutting more than a few of them down I snuck back into the city. The object was simple.
Revenge.
Systematically I murdered them, in their sleep. I found Tere more than aware that I was after him, he fled from his warm home in Ironforge, I would be waiting. He returned not several weeks ago, and that's where I am at now."
He layed his head to the side and grasped his broken face.
"Tere, you're stronger than I thought."
His nose would heal, so would his eye, if it stayed in it's socket. During the fight the mammoth broke the bone under his eyesocket, if it weren't for sheer luck he would have watched his own eye fall to the floor.
"What a sight that would have been, seeing my groin and the moon all at once."
He would see a healer, the church held no discriminations and asked very few questions when your face looked as bad as his.
"My revenge would not be denied, not this time."
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