Since writing about myself and what I do is really boring and usually consists of me staring at a computer screen for eight hours, I'm just going to start... Reviewing stuff, I guess. Because this is my corner of the internet, dangit.
So a few nights ago my dad and I watched District 9, which was actually really good despite Peter Jackson just producing it, not writing it.
(But wait! You cry, you're only watching it NOW? MONTHS after it came out? Yes. Yes I am. This is the way of the rare people known as People Who Do Not Watch TV Or Go To The Movies That Often. Sadly there isn't at trope for that. (or is there?))
Knowing absolutely nothing about the movie, the body horror was unexpected and therefore very squicky. I was glad we were watching it on a tiny computer screen, and I was sitting across the room.
Special effects were good, but I think the focus was more on the story, which is a good thing. (CoughAvatarcough*)
The ending kind of leaves you hanging, though. I WANT MY DISTRICT 10!
*Not that Avatar isn't a good movie, but after watching D9 it's kind of become rather meek and tame in comparison despite the tear jerkers within.
Also a few days ago we went to this Indian Restaurant called "The Palace" (or "The Indian Palace"... There was a palace in the name somewhere) which was great. We used to go to this Indian Restaurant way back when but stopped, so I finally got my first Indian-food fix in months. Omnomnom. It was as good as I remembered. (And I totally ordered the best thing. I still have no idea what it was except delicious)
Finally, I got the game Prince of Persia: The Sands of Time and while I haven't been glued to the screen, per say, (there are other distractions) I have really enjoyed it so far. It's hard. There are puzzles. There are parts where you whack things. It's great.
I haven't seen much of the characters themselves (We've been too busy surviving to be really witty) but I have heard good things about it, and so I am excited. Yay.
Wednesday, December 30, 2009
Sunday, December 27, 2009
Avatar, The Afflictor's Diary and John Dies at the End
Well it's just after that time of year, and 2010 is slowly creeping up on us, and I'm writing on my blog, which means 2012 is right around the corner, too. (I heard that was a terrible movie)
I got a lot of pretty nifty stuff for Christmas, and in the spirit of the kid who plays with the big cardboard box instead of the shiny new toy, I've spent the past few days reading this book. Seriously. My hands were almost literally glued to my kindle until I finished it, and now I'm not quite sure what to do with myself.
More... MORE! I NEED MORE BAD CHAIR PUNS!
It was smart enough to catch my interest and dumb enough to make me laugh and be absolutely terrified at the same time. Think Douglas Adams meets H.P. Lovecraft meets Stephan King. (Horrible truth: I've only read one out of those three authors. I plan to change this.)
On the terrified note: I would advise against reading a mildly scary book full of pre-Christmas excitement. I eventually went to bed at around 6 AM, but I've been doing that for the past week (don't tell anyone), so it was anything terrible unusual.
... Holy crap I think that's the most I've really written in here ever.
But wait, there's more! Last weekend (I think) my dad and I went to go see Avatar, which was draw-droppingly gorgeous (and full of ten feet tall blue people!) and pretty decent, though people seemed to have issues with the plot or lack of. Oh, well, it's gotten to the point for me in cinema where I expect all movies to be bad. I find I tend to enjoy a lot more of them.
On a side note of "crap I have been up to", I spent an afternoon putting text on a map, got this, which went on to be mentioned here which is cool because when it comes to Destron I start to go squee in a really high pitched voice.
And finally for the thing that I should probably be smote for mentioning in the same sentence as Avatar and JDATE. Because I wrote it.
The Afflictor's Diary is about Valirra Erean'thal, a child of blood, an affliction warlock, and figment of my imagination who keeps a diary I update on a level that approaches religious. It's really quite frightening. I'm actually considering posting it here because according to my mother "COLLEGES LOOK AT YOUR BLOG YOU SHOULD KEEP IT UPDATED!" (dear future colleges who might look at this: It gets better I swear), though I warn a lot of it might not actually make sense, and you might find it kinda boring, but since a grand total of, like, three people read this thing, meeeehhhhh.
Also vaguely not safe for work as it contains some adultishyyy kind of themes.
And on that note, here's the first couple of entries! They are kind of bland because Val's a work in progress character. She gets more interesting, I promise. (Note: This is a continued entry after a short story I did which is a little higher on the scale of PG13-might-count-as-R-if-you-squint-at-the-subtext)
So by this entry, Val's quit her job as a housemaid at some fancy estate and gotten her first warlock lessons. If you're a WoW nerd, this will make more sense. If not, just keep reading.
Dear Diary:
After a few hours in Farstrider Square and tromping about the Ruins of Silvermoon with Rultai, I ran out of work to be had there. It... Brought back a lot of memories.
I regret to say I was not out fighting when the Traitor Prince invaded Quel'thalas- quite the contrary, I was huddling in the basement of the Dawnwhisper Estate, praying that we would be spared. We were lucky. We were.
Anyways, after my tasks in the ruins were complete I was rewarded with a fair sum of money and instructed to continue on to Fairbreeze Village- if I had known we would be leaving so soon, I would not have rented a room in the inn!
Lyria has adapted very well to our new lifestyle. I deeply regret that I cannot spend more time with her- she is a brilliant, thoughtful child and I am truly blessed. She is happy to be away from the Estate and her happiness has helped me through these troublesome times.
Most of the money I had saved up is gone. I bought a wand, and I fear that once I purchase the Glyph of Life Tap as Doctor Lexington instructed me to it will be all gone. I also picked up a book called 'A Guide to Herbs' from a bookstore in the City, and have begun taking lessons in Alchemy.
While I sought to keep Solther's sword as a... Trophy of sorts, I have sold it for a fair sum of money. That should last us for a while, along with the money I have acquired helping around Eversong.
I was up late again this night. Doctor Lexington showed me how to summon another demon; a Voidwalker. It was easier then summoning Rultai in ways, and harder in others. I cannot help but feel guilty when I drain the soul of something- but I would be quite alarmed if I felt anything otherwise. I make a point to only take the souls of the Scourge, however. While it does not alleviate their suffering, at least it can be put to a better purpose.
And Mezzdok (my voidwalker) is very useful indeed. He is an effective bodyguard and a better- or at least less talkative- servant then Rultai. I do not have to Life Tap nearly as often.
It is still difficult to think that only a few days past I was a mere maid in Lord Dawnwhisper's household. And now... Now I am an Afflictor. Not only that, but I am progressing very quickly. I often have to return to the city to study the Sanctum's Grimoire. It has given me no small measure of confidence, and I cherish this newfound independence.
It is late, and I have another busy day tomorrow. I must rest- Lyria is already asleep.
- V.E.
I got a lot of pretty nifty stuff for Christmas, and in the spirit of the kid who plays with the big cardboard box instead of the shiny new toy, I've spent the past few days reading this book. Seriously. My hands were almost literally glued to my kindle until I finished it, and now I'm not quite sure what to do with myself.
More... MORE! I NEED MORE BAD CHAIR PUNS!
It was smart enough to catch my interest and dumb enough to make me laugh and be absolutely terrified at the same time. Think Douglas Adams meets H.P. Lovecraft meets Stephan King. (Horrible truth: I've only read one out of those three authors. I plan to change this.)
On the terrified note: I would advise against reading a mildly scary book full of pre-Christmas excitement. I eventually went to bed at around 6 AM, but I've been doing that for the past week (don't tell anyone), so it was anything terrible unusual.
... Holy crap I think that's the most I've really written in here ever.
But wait, there's more! Last weekend (I think) my dad and I went to go see Avatar, which was draw-droppingly gorgeous (and full of ten feet tall blue people!) and pretty decent, though people seemed to have issues with the plot or lack of. Oh, well, it's gotten to the point for me in cinema where I expect all movies to be bad. I find I tend to enjoy a lot more of them.
On a side note of "crap I have been up to", I spent an afternoon putting text on a map, got this, which went on to be mentioned here which is cool because when it comes to Destron I start to go squee in a really high pitched voice.
And finally for the thing that I should probably be smote for mentioning in the same sentence as Avatar and JDATE. Because I wrote it.
The Afflictor's Diary is about Valirra Erean'thal, a child of blood, an affliction warlock, and figment of my imagination who keeps a diary I update on a level that approaches religious. It's really quite frightening. I'm actually considering posting it here because according to my mother "COLLEGES LOOK AT YOUR BLOG YOU SHOULD KEEP IT UPDATED!" (dear future colleges who might look at this: It gets better I swear), though I warn a lot of it might not actually make sense, and you might find it kinda boring, but since a grand total of, like, three people read this thing, meeeehhhhh.
Also vaguely not safe for work as it contains some adultishyyy kind of themes.
And on that note, here's the first couple of entries! They are kind of bland because Val's a work in progress character. She gets more interesting, I promise. (Note: This is a continued entry after a short story I did which is a little higher on the scale of PG13-might-count-as-R-if-you-squint-at-the-subtext)
So by this entry, Val's quit her job as a housemaid at some fancy estate and gotten her first warlock lessons. If you're a WoW nerd, this will make more sense. If not, just keep reading.
Dear Diary:
After a few hours in Farstrider Square and tromping about the Ruins of Silvermoon with Rultai, I ran out of work to be had there. It... Brought back a lot of memories.
I regret to say I was not out fighting when the Traitor Prince invaded Quel'thalas- quite the contrary, I was huddling in the basement of the Dawnwhisper Estate, praying that we would be spared. We were lucky. We were.
Anyways, after my tasks in the ruins were complete I was rewarded with a fair sum of money and instructed to continue on to Fairbreeze Village- if I had known we would be leaving so soon, I would not have rented a room in the inn!
Lyria has adapted very well to our new lifestyle. I deeply regret that I cannot spend more time with her- she is a brilliant, thoughtful child and I am truly blessed. She is happy to be away from the Estate and her happiness has helped me through these troublesome times.
Most of the money I had saved up is gone. I bought a wand, and I fear that once I purchase the Glyph of Life Tap as Doctor Lexington instructed me to it will be all gone. I also picked up a book called 'A Guide to Herbs' from a bookstore in the City, and have begun taking lessons in Alchemy.
While I sought to keep Solther's sword as a... Trophy of sorts, I have sold it for a fair sum of money. That should last us for a while, along with the money I have acquired helping around Eversong.
I was up late again this night. Doctor Lexington showed me how to summon another demon; a Voidwalker. It was easier then summoning Rultai in ways, and harder in others. I cannot help but feel guilty when I drain the soul of something- but I would be quite alarmed if I felt anything otherwise. I make a point to only take the souls of the Scourge, however. While it does not alleviate their suffering, at least it can be put to a better purpose.
And Mezzdok (my voidwalker) is very useful indeed. He is an effective bodyguard and a better- or at least less talkative- servant then Rultai. I do not have to Life Tap nearly as often.
It is still difficult to think that only a few days past I was a mere maid in Lord Dawnwhisper's household. And now... Now I am an Afflictor. Not only that, but I am progressing very quickly. I often have to return to the city to study the Sanctum's Grimoire. It has given me no small measure of confidence, and I cherish this newfound independence.
It is late, and I have another busy day tomorrow. I must rest- Lyria is already asleep.
- V.E.
Thursday, November 12, 2009
Ohey
So I realized people actually read my blog, which is kind of a new and vaguely baffling development. Usually any sort of thing like this that I start sinks into obscurity so, uh, hm.
Anyways I guess this is kind of a celebratory post because PRAISE HIS NOODLELYNESS I FINISHED MY OUTFIT!
Speaking of which...
If you didn't know, I'm volunteering at a kid's museum, which is a pretty awesome place eh doesn't afraid of anything. They have a lot of great art programs for kids (obviously) and I've been going there ever since I was young, so volunteering there is wonderful.
Anyways, they're hosting a fashion show called "Junk2Funk" which is a fundraiser to help try and open their 2nd building, and I got roped into making an outfit two weeks before the show.
.... HolycrapholycrapholycrapHOLYCRAPHOLYCRAP what was I thinking. That was probably the most insane two weeks of my life in the history of ever
My muse really took over that project. "Oh, I'll do bubblewrap. Bubblewrap is awesome and it should be easy-"
"- NO, NEWSPAPER."
"But b-"
"NEWSPAPER."
... So, my dress is shower curtain/newspaper. It somehow grew a "Alice in Wonderland" theme when I found an old deck of cards, too. I don't know. It looks good and it's DONE, so I'm really pleased.
... And I get to see it on the runway tomorrow! :) This whole experience has been really great- attending workshop meetings, talking with models (yep, we get actual models!) and seeing what everyone comes up with has been amazing.
<3 yay.
Anyways I guess this is kind of a celebratory post because PRAISE HIS NOODLELYNESS I FINISHED MY OUTFIT!
Speaking of which...
If you didn't know, I'm volunteering at a kid's museum, which is a pretty awesome place eh doesn't afraid of anything. They have a lot of great art programs for kids (obviously) and I've been going there ever since I was young, so volunteering there is wonderful.
Anyways, they're hosting a fashion show called "Junk2Funk" which is a fundraiser to help try and open their 2nd building, and I got roped into making an outfit two weeks before the show.
.... HolycrapholycrapholycrapHOLYCRAPHOLYCRAP what was I thinking. That was probably the most insane two weeks of my life in the history of ever
My muse really took over that project. "Oh, I'll do bubblewrap. Bubblewrap is awesome and it should be easy-"
"- NO, NEWSPAPER."
"But b-"
"NEWSPAPER."
... So, my dress is shower curtain/newspaper. It somehow grew a "Alice in Wonderland" theme when I found an old deck of cards, too. I don't know. It looks good and it's DONE, so I'm really pleased.
... And I get to see it on the runway tomorrow! :) This whole experience has been really great- attending workshop meetings, talking with models (yep, we get actual models!) and seeing what everyone comes up with has been amazing.
<3 yay.
Monday, October 26, 2009
Pancakes of Sadness
I written here in a while, but I haven't felt the need to write anything down in a while. Alas, this is not a terribly happy entry.
Things have happened that are in ways entirely my fault and entirely not my fault. I proposed an idea for my guild (for those who don't know- a guild is a group of individuals in WoW) that I thought would be accepted without any trouble. It was mild, inoffensive, and I thought it would help collaborate our roleplay.
Boy, was I ever wrong.
When two people heard this, they requested a removal from the guild. Flabbergasted, alarmed and confused, I made a topic on our website requesting thoughts on the matter. Most were tentatively positive, and it looked like we would go through with it.
We have been through several guildleaders. I believe three or four now. Our founder left WoW a while back due to school. He and our currant guild leader are old friends, and she called him in to give his thoughts on the matter.
I do not know if she knew he would agree with her, but I can't see it any other way.
So not only did he agree with her, he's decided he's going to remove everyone from the guild until he can come back to WoW and keep the Network going in his own image. We have a week to get our crap together and get out.
I am biased. Obviously there is a swirl of other viewpoints, motives and emotions on the matter. I just can't shake the desire to metaphorically stamp by foot and cry, "That's not FAIR!". We built that guild up and made it our own, putting our own ideas and efforts into it. To have someone come back and say, "This is not how I wanted it, get out" on a whim and wipe away all that work is extremely hurtful.
Yes. I am whining. This is my blog, I can do what I want with it. No one's making you read.
Possibly we could reform under a different idea, but I doubt it would be the same. I am not guild running material, and yet part of me wants to try, if only in the knowledge that I know people will follow me.
I know our founder doesn't care, though. He has his own ideas. He is extremely charismatic. He will find other people, and wanting someone to fail like that is ugly.
Obviously I won't be sticking around (despite friends encouraging me to stay- arghhh it's my childhood all over again) but I'm not sure what I'll DO with my character after I leave. It's a shame, I really like him.
Ehh, I know life goes on, I'll get over it, it's not forever, etc, etc, but right NOW it really sucks. I feel very hurt and betrayed. qq.
Pancakes. For the first time in forever I've wanted them, and my mom, benevolent and wonderful mother that she is, got me some.
I will make (or attempt to) make pancakes, and they will be the Pancakes of Sadness, because I am sad. And I shall eat them and they will be delicious, even if she did get the wrong kind of syrup.
That's all for now.
Things have happened that are in ways entirely my fault and entirely not my fault. I proposed an idea for my guild (for those who don't know- a guild is a group of individuals in WoW) that I thought would be accepted without any trouble. It was mild, inoffensive, and I thought it would help collaborate our roleplay.
Boy, was I ever wrong.
When two people heard this, they requested a removal from the guild. Flabbergasted, alarmed and confused, I made a topic on our website requesting thoughts on the matter. Most were tentatively positive, and it looked like we would go through with it.
We have been through several guildleaders. I believe three or four now. Our founder left WoW a while back due to school. He and our currant guild leader are old friends, and she called him in to give his thoughts on the matter.
I do not know if she knew he would agree with her, but I can't see it any other way.
So not only did he agree with her, he's decided he's going to remove everyone from the guild until he can come back to WoW and keep the Network going in his own image. We have a week to get our crap together and get out.
I am biased. Obviously there is a swirl of other viewpoints, motives and emotions on the matter. I just can't shake the desire to metaphorically stamp by foot and cry, "That's not FAIR!". We built that guild up and made it our own, putting our own ideas and efforts into it. To have someone come back and say, "This is not how I wanted it, get out" on a whim and wipe away all that work is extremely hurtful.
Yes. I am whining. This is my blog, I can do what I want with it. No one's making you read.
Possibly we could reform under a different idea, but I doubt it would be the same. I am not guild running material, and yet part of me wants to try, if only in the knowledge that I know people will follow me.
I know our founder doesn't care, though. He has his own ideas. He is extremely charismatic. He will find other people, and wanting someone to fail like that is ugly.
Obviously I won't be sticking around (despite friends encouraging me to stay- arghhh it's my childhood all over again) but I'm not sure what I'll DO with my character after I leave. It's a shame, I really like him.
Ehh, I know life goes on, I'll get over it, it's not forever, etc, etc, but right NOW it really sucks. I feel very hurt and betrayed. qq.
Pancakes. For the first time in forever I've wanted them, and my mom, benevolent and wonderful mother that she is, got me some.
I will make (or attempt to) make pancakes, and they will be the Pancakes of Sadness, because I am sad. And I shall eat them and they will be delicious, even if she did get the wrong kind of syrup.
That's all for now.
Monday, August 3, 2009
Works in progress
Stuff I'm working on / too lazy to finish. :O
The second is drawn entirely in pencil, the first is drawn in Open Canvas on the computer with a tablet. (someone asked me about that?)
Anyways, it's Baril, swearing his allegiance to the night elves.
And Narantuya my baby tauren druid.
I saw the Harry Potter movie last night. It was good, but long. Lupin and Tonks didn't get enough screen time. The beginning scenes with the Millennium Bridge were funny- me and mom were like 'We went on that bridge! And oooo, there's the Globe!'. It was very cool to see that and think "Yep, yep. I've been there."
Also: Why is Draco stuck in a suit during most of the movie, and -why- is there dust on that cloth that's covering the vanishing cabinet -every- time he pulls it off?
Otherwise enjoyable.
PS. SNAPE KILLS DUMBLEDORE.
Monday, July 27, 2009
The History of Valinn
((As told by a very snarky historian. ))
No one knows how the universe itself began. Mostly because no one was around to witness it. There was also no one around to ask where the Gods themselves originated from, though it is common knowledge that Eda and Ulish are the daughter and son respectively of Othor. Where Othor came from is the mystery, but one He has not cared to reveal.
As mentioned before, Othor has two children, Eda and Ulish. Whether He created them or He took a wife is yet another mystery. If He does have a wife, she's rather shy.
Anyways, Eda and Ulish are his two children which I think I've mentioned thrice now. Eda is the Goddess of the night, moon and magic along with otherwordly things and life, while Ulish is the God of the day, sun and combat, along with domain over the physical and death.
You could say that they controlled the elements that we understood. Othor was the ruler of everything that ever was and ever will be, along with the creator of the universe, time, and the world on which we reside.
It's also said that He has a plan for all mortals, which is mostly a load of horseshit if you ask me.
There are also the angels. Both Eda and Ulish have them- nine each, and they represent various elements. Othor has one angel, who the mightiest of all the angels. And below the angels are the patron saints, then the priests and priestess of Valinn, and then the rest of us.
Now where was I? Oh, yeah. Othor created the universe and time and all those other concepts physicists like to talk about, and then with his children he created the planet Valinn, which is where we all reside.
The forming of the planet was supposedly a very interesting event- I couldn't tell you for sure, because I wasn't there, but Othor created the rock from nothingness, and Eda instilled it with magic. Everything has magic- the sky, the earth, the wind and the trees. It's something the physicists don't like to talk about, because to them, magic doesn't make sense. In fact, to most people, magic doesn't make sense. But advanced physics doesn't make sense to most people, either. So it's a moot point.
After the planet was created, with all its valleys and lakes and mountains and oceans, I imagine the Gods looked at one another and sort of went 'Hmmm, what next?'
Well, Eda decided to bring forth the fey and animals, though the lines were blurred a bit between the two. But most of the animals were just normal... Creaturey things. Fish, mammals, birds, and those things that couldn't decide if they were birds or mammals and looked like they were result of a wild fling between an otter and a duck.
I think they're called platypi.
Then after Eda created the animals and fey of the world, Ulish decided he wanted to make something as well. But he was war-like in nature, and while the savagery of the predators and some of the fey Eda had created appealed to him, he wanted something different.
So he thought for a long while- at least for several thousand years, as far as anyone is concerned, time works different for gods- until Eda became restless as well and decided to help her brother.
They came together, and Ulish and Eda created creatures that resembled themselves. Creatures that could walk upright and had hands and feet and everything that made a human a human.
And Ulish gave them his love of war and his strength and cunning, and Eda gave them her compassion, intelligence and kindness. They were masterful creations. They weren't as fast as the horse or strong as the bear, but they were clever.
And there was one person amongst the gods who didn't like the humans at all.
Foden, Othor's only angel and the most powerful of all of the other angels, took an instant dislike to the creatures Ulish and Eda created. He went to Othor and proclaimed humans as too full of Ulish's blood lust and Eda's cunning to be allowed to reside on Valinn, and that they were a danger to the Gods, and that they should be... “removed” immediately.
But (thankfully), Othor didn't listen to his angel- he was loathe to destroy anything his children created, and He was also interested in these humans.
And here it is said that Foden took out his anger and frustration on Ulish, striking the God who, at the time, was holding the sun.
(For anyone confused, apparently holding large celestial bodies is something the Gods do when they want to. Yeah, it's strange.)
Anyways- again, lucky for us- Ulish managed to recover before the world became very toasty indeed, but the sun did scorch part of Valinn, causing it to become a burned and blackened wasteland and killing many innocents. It would remain a wasteland for many years until it eventually became the Fasana desert.
Ulish handed the sun to one of his angels and advanced upon Foden and would have killed him had Othor not intervened.
Instead of killing the surly angel, he sent Tura, Ulish's angel of judgment, to hold Foden responsible for what he had done. He realized what he's done and begs forgiveness, but Tura didn't accept his apology, as it wouldn't bring back the lives of the innocents he killed in his rage.
Othor banished Foden to a barren and dark wasteland similar to the one he created on Valinn and condemned him to live there for eternity.
Filled with sorrow for what He had been forced to do, Othor withdrew from the world, leaving his children and their angels to watch over the world.
And for a long time, they did just that. Time went by, and the humans formed tribes and it was then that magic was discovered. I think this magic was more true to the earth- it was the magic of the earth and the animals, and the magic still used in the south today, hyped up to be something foul and despicable in the north.
There are dangers surrounding Earth Magic, yes, but I'm trying very hard to stay on topic.
Eventually they discovered the gift that one of Eda's angels had given them- farming. Most of the tribes stopped following the herds and created primitive settlements near basic water sources. If that sounds like I'm quoting a textbook, yeah, I am.
Sometimes they just lived in caves, and you can see where they pained pictures on the inside unless some idiot came by centuries later and messed 'em up.
It was around this time that the humans became dimly aware of the Gods existence. They dreamed, and through these dreams glimpsed Eda, Ulish and their angels. This surprised the Gods greatly, but they decided to take the initiative.
They made it so only a select few mortals received their dreams, and communicated with them through these visions, though they manifested in forms that made more sense to the people of that time. Even now, I don't think they've shown us their true forms yet.
Anyways, the people that received these dreams became the Priests and Priestesses of their society, though I'm fairly certain they were called other things at that time.
It was around this time that two very old kingdoms began. The blackened wasteland left by Fosen had turned into a dry and arid desert, and humans were once again beginning to settle there. A large river ran through it, and desert kingdom of Fasan was just beginning to take form, as was the eventual kingdom Varu in the north. Cities began to spring up as people learned more about themselves and the environments. And they questioned everything. It was in this time that people called “The Age of Learning”, where scientists and magi figured things out about the world that no one had even thought to consider before.
It was also a time of conflict. The Fasanas warred with the Hazani people of the swampy lands further south for territory. Varu was raising a vast (if vaguely primitive) kingdom, conquering all those who opposed it before setting its sights on the people of Fasan, who dwelt past the Upsila Thesa. It was that mountain range, though, that always made them hesitate.
The fey of Valinn lived up in those mountains, and had preyed on humans on both side of the mountain range for a long time.
But then the Varulians discovered the fey's weakness to cold iron, and the Iron Wars began. But even with iron, it took several wars over twenty five years to bring the fey to their knees. May of them died, and some species were wiped out entirely
A few escaped to the farthest reaches of the mountains, but those that were not killed were enslaved.
The Age of Learning came to an end, and the Fasana beat the Hazani back to their swamps. Varu prepared to invade the war-torn kingdom, but before they could do so strange foreigners came from a land called Caria across the sea, and the Varulian Kingdom found themselves having to turn their sights away from Fasan and fend off the raiders attacking their westernmost coastal villages.
But that was a war the Varulians were not destined to win, even with the forced assistance of the fey. The raiders took a large part of western Varu for their own, but it was the rocky and mountainous part that was largely uninhabited anyways. A land full of tall mountains and steep cliffs. Varu decided waging war over what they considered a wasteland was not worth the effort.
But as the years went by, the people who named the region 'Hinalia' adapted to the rocky landscape. They tamed the tough horses who lived in the steep valleys and founded their own largely clan-based culture. They became very good at guerrilla warfare, defeating any troops Varu sent to try and take its land back. They probably would have eventually succeeded, however, if the people of their eastern boarder hadn't rebelled.
The people of what would become Paraell had achieved their cherished independence by fighting. Violently. Town by town, territory by territory they regained control of the land taken from them by the Varulian Kingdom. The war was brief and bloody, but eventually they took back what had been taken from them and more.
They formed their own government, and having no intention of substituting one tyranny for another, they formed a democracy where the territories were united under one banner and all were considered equal.
Let Varu call them uncivilized bog-dwellers; their muddy swamps and marshlands were poor things, but, damn it all, they were their own.
It was during the war that the first Oros del Amo, the leader of a powerful merchant guild in Hinalia, sold supplies to both sides. Hinalia became a rich country, Paraell broke free of Varulian rule, and Varu struggled to recover from its losses.
However, brutally cold winters, extremely high taxes, the losses from the recent war and the royalty living in splendor led up to a vicious revolution in Varu's own capitol of Galent. The royal palace was besieged and the king and queen killed. Turmoiled ensued for a few years as Varu was effectively rendered leaderless. The leaders of the revolution ruled for a while, before they were assassinated. A democracy was established for a decade or two, and then a man calling himself Gaeten came forward. He said if Varu did not want a king, then he would be Emperor instead.
There were no major events for many years after that. Varu began to recover now that a new leader was firmly established, and Paraell elected their first President. Fasan dealt with the boarder skirmishes from Hazana and began trading with Hinalia. The fey Varu captured in the Iron Wars remained enslaved, and would so for a hundred years until Paraell banned slavery.
Many of the fey fled Paraell to find at least semi-freedom, until Varu was forced to ban slavery as well or lose all the fey that remained. The 'Unseelie' fey, or the city folk, were called such because to other fey they had lived among humans and in cities for so long they were now unseelie, or unholy. The seelie fey were those who were still free.
In a way, it was backwards. Before the Iron Wars, seelie fey were supposed to be the at least semi-friendly fey, and the unseelie were the kind that would hurt you for no reason other then they felt like it.
But now unseelie were unholy. Unpure. Tainted by humanity- and the most likely not to kill you. Seelie fey, those were the ones that you had to watch out for, because they were free, and in their minds their kin had become tainted beyond hope, and they were out for revenge.
About five years ago, the Empress moved the capitol from the old city of Galent, to the relatively newer city of Elania.
No one knows how the universe itself began. Mostly because no one was around to witness it. There was also no one around to ask where the Gods themselves originated from, though it is common knowledge that Eda and Ulish are the daughter and son respectively of Othor. Where Othor came from is the mystery, but one He has not cared to reveal.
As mentioned before, Othor has two children, Eda and Ulish. Whether He created them or He took a wife is yet another mystery. If He does have a wife, she's rather shy.
Anyways, Eda and Ulish are his two children which I think I've mentioned thrice now. Eda is the Goddess of the night, moon and magic along with otherwordly things and life, while Ulish is the God of the day, sun and combat, along with domain over the physical and death.
You could say that they controlled the elements that we understood. Othor was the ruler of everything that ever was and ever will be, along with the creator of the universe, time, and the world on which we reside.
It's also said that He has a plan for all mortals, which is mostly a load of horseshit if you ask me.
There are also the angels. Both Eda and Ulish have them- nine each, and they represent various elements. Othor has one angel, who the mightiest of all the angels. And below the angels are the patron saints, then the priests and priestess of Valinn, and then the rest of us.
Now where was I? Oh, yeah. Othor created the universe and time and all those other concepts physicists like to talk about, and then with his children he created the planet Valinn, which is where we all reside.
The forming of the planet was supposedly a very interesting event- I couldn't tell you for sure, because I wasn't there, but Othor created the rock from nothingness, and Eda instilled it with magic. Everything has magic- the sky, the earth, the wind and the trees. It's something the physicists don't like to talk about, because to them, magic doesn't make sense. In fact, to most people, magic doesn't make sense. But advanced physics doesn't make sense to most people, either. So it's a moot point.
After the planet was created, with all its valleys and lakes and mountains and oceans, I imagine the Gods looked at one another and sort of went 'Hmmm, what next?'
Well, Eda decided to bring forth the fey and animals, though the lines were blurred a bit between the two. But most of the animals were just normal... Creaturey things. Fish, mammals, birds, and those things that couldn't decide if they were birds or mammals and looked like they were result of a wild fling between an otter and a duck.
I think they're called platypi.
Then after Eda created the animals and fey of the world, Ulish decided he wanted to make something as well. But he was war-like in nature, and while the savagery of the predators and some of the fey Eda had created appealed to him, he wanted something different.
So he thought for a long while- at least for several thousand years, as far as anyone is concerned, time works different for gods- until Eda became restless as well and decided to help her brother.
They came together, and Ulish and Eda created creatures that resembled themselves. Creatures that could walk upright and had hands and feet and everything that made a human a human.
And Ulish gave them his love of war and his strength and cunning, and Eda gave them her compassion, intelligence and kindness. They were masterful creations. They weren't as fast as the horse or strong as the bear, but they were clever.
And there was one person amongst the gods who didn't like the humans at all.
Foden, Othor's only angel and the most powerful of all of the other angels, took an instant dislike to the creatures Ulish and Eda created. He went to Othor and proclaimed humans as too full of Ulish's blood lust and Eda's cunning to be allowed to reside on Valinn, and that they were a danger to the Gods, and that they should be... “removed” immediately.
But (thankfully), Othor didn't listen to his angel- he was loathe to destroy anything his children created, and He was also interested in these humans.
And here it is said that Foden took out his anger and frustration on Ulish, striking the God who, at the time, was holding the sun.
(For anyone confused, apparently holding large celestial bodies is something the Gods do when they want to. Yeah, it's strange.)
Anyways- again, lucky for us- Ulish managed to recover before the world became very toasty indeed, but the sun did scorch part of Valinn, causing it to become a burned and blackened wasteland and killing many innocents. It would remain a wasteland for many years until it eventually became the Fasana desert.
Ulish handed the sun to one of his angels and advanced upon Foden and would have killed him had Othor not intervened.
Instead of killing the surly angel, he sent Tura, Ulish's angel of judgment, to hold Foden responsible for what he had done. He realized what he's done and begs forgiveness, but Tura didn't accept his apology, as it wouldn't bring back the lives of the innocents he killed in his rage.
Othor banished Foden to a barren and dark wasteland similar to the one he created on Valinn and condemned him to live there for eternity.
Filled with sorrow for what He had been forced to do, Othor withdrew from the world, leaving his children and their angels to watch over the world.
And for a long time, they did just that. Time went by, and the humans formed tribes and it was then that magic was discovered. I think this magic was more true to the earth- it was the magic of the earth and the animals, and the magic still used in the south today, hyped up to be something foul and despicable in the north.
There are dangers surrounding Earth Magic, yes, but I'm trying very hard to stay on topic.
Eventually they discovered the gift that one of Eda's angels had given them- farming. Most of the tribes stopped following the herds and created primitive settlements near basic water sources. If that sounds like I'm quoting a textbook, yeah, I am.
Sometimes they just lived in caves, and you can see where they pained pictures on the inside unless some idiot came by centuries later and messed 'em up.
It was around this time that the humans became dimly aware of the Gods existence. They dreamed, and through these dreams glimpsed Eda, Ulish and their angels. This surprised the Gods greatly, but they decided to take the initiative.
They made it so only a select few mortals received their dreams, and communicated with them through these visions, though they manifested in forms that made more sense to the people of that time. Even now, I don't think they've shown us their true forms yet.
Anyways, the people that received these dreams became the Priests and Priestesses of their society, though I'm fairly certain they were called other things at that time.
It was around this time that two very old kingdoms began. The blackened wasteland left by Fosen had turned into a dry and arid desert, and humans were once again beginning to settle there. A large river ran through it, and desert kingdom of Fasan was just beginning to take form, as was the eventual kingdom Varu in the north. Cities began to spring up as people learned more about themselves and the environments. And they questioned everything. It was in this time that people called “The Age of Learning”, where scientists and magi figured things out about the world that no one had even thought to consider before.
It was also a time of conflict. The Fasanas warred with the Hazani people of the swampy lands further south for territory. Varu was raising a vast (if vaguely primitive) kingdom, conquering all those who opposed it before setting its sights on the people of Fasan, who dwelt past the Upsila Thesa. It was that mountain range, though, that always made them hesitate.
The fey of Valinn lived up in those mountains, and had preyed on humans on both side of the mountain range for a long time.
But then the Varulians discovered the fey's weakness to cold iron, and the Iron Wars began. But even with iron, it took several wars over twenty five years to bring the fey to their knees. May of them died, and some species were wiped out entirely
A few escaped to the farthest reaches of the mountains, but those that were not killed were enslaved.
The Age of Learning came to an end, and the Fasana beat the Hazani back to their swamps. Varu prepared to invade the war-torn kingdom, but before they could do so strange foreigners came from a land called Caria across the sea, and the Varulian Kingdom found themselves having to turn their sights away from Fasan and fend off the raiders attacking their westernmost coastal villages.
But that was a war the Varulians were not destined to win, even with the forced assistance of the fey. The raiders took a large part of western Varu for their own, but it was the rocky and mountainous part that was largely uninhabited anyways. A land full of tall mountains and steep cliffs. Varu decided waging war over what they considered a wasteland was not worth the effort.
But as the years went by, the people who named the region 'Hinalia' adapted to the rocky landscape. They tamed the tough horses who lived in the steep valleys and founded their own largely clan-based culture. They became very good at guerrilla warfare, defeating any troops Varu sent to try and take its land back. They probably would have eventually succeeded, however, if the people of their eastern boarder hadn't rebelled.
The people of what would become Paraell had achieved their cherished independence by fighting. Violently. Town by town, territory by territory they regained control of the land taken from them by the Varulian Kingdom. The war was brief and bloody, but eventually they took back what had been taken from them and more.
They formed their own government, and having no intention of substituting one tyranny for another, they formed a democracy where the territories were united under one banner and all were considered equal.
Let Varu call them uncivilized bog-dwellers; their muddy swamps and marshlands were poor things, but, damn it all, they were their own.
It was during the war that the first Oros del Amo, the leader of a powerful merchant guild in Hinalia, sold supplies to both sides. Hinalia became a rich country, Paraell broke free of Varulian rule, and Varu struggled to recover from its losses.
However, brutally cold winters, extremely high taxes, the losses from the recent war and the royalty living in splendor led up to a vicious revolution in Varu's own capitol of Galent. The royal palace was besieged and the king and queen killed. Turmoiled ensued for a few years as Varu was effectively rendered leaderless. The leaders of the revolution ruled for a while, before they were assassinated. A democracy was established for a decade or two, and then a man calling himself Gaeten came forward. He said if Varu did not want a king, then he would be Emperor instead.
There were no major events for many years after that. Varu began to recover now that a new leader was firmly established, and Paraell elected their first President. Fasan dealt with the boarder skirmishes from Hazana and began trading with Hinalia. The fey Varu captured in the Iron Wars remained enslaved, and would so for a hundred years until Paraell banned slavery.
Many of the fey fled Paraell to find at least semi-freedom, until Varu was forced to ban slavery as well or lose all the fey that remained. The 'Unseelie' fey, or the city folk, were called such because to other fey they had lived among humans and in cities for so long they were now unseelie, or unholy. The seelie fey were those who were still free.
In a way, it was backwards. Before the Iron Wars, seelie fey were supposed to be the at least semi-friendly fey, and the unseelie were the kind that would hurt you for no reason other then they felt like it.
But now unseelie were unholy. Unpure. Tainted by humanity- and the most likely not to kill you. Seelie fey, those were the ones that you had to watch out for, because they were free, and in their minds their kin had become tainted beyond hope, and they were out for revenge.
About five years ago, the Empress moved the capitol from the old city of Galent, to the relatively newer city of Elania.
How it all went bad
((HAPPY STORY K GAIZ ))
It was dark and foggy, with a light rain falling like a fine mist, soaking through cloth and armor, and causing chafes and chills. Thunder rumbled distantly overhead like an angry god, making it a usual night in Duskwood.
Baril stood with the other watchmen on the barricade they'd built. It was made of a few upturned carts, some furniture, and anything reasonably heavy that could be used to block off the wide pathway that led into the town square. They'd even manage to make a crude walkway, which is what they stood on now, waiting.
“Right, boys.” Baril said, turning to looking the ragtag mix of watchmen and recruited citizens standing in the rain. They held their crossbows close, their faces pale and grim in the oily light of the torches.
They were scared. He could see it in their faces and smell it on them.
Hell, he was scared too. Duskwood was a place full of horrors, but no one had expected this.
No one had seen this coming.
“They haven't hit us here yet, but that could go changin' at any time. Commander Ebonlock and Captain Grange are doin' their best at holding 'em off at the other barricades,” - even through the fog he could hear them shouting orders in the distance- “But I want you nice n' alert in case they do.” He clapped a man on the shoulder as he walked by, trying to put on a brave face. “The Light'll see us through, one way or another!”
A weak cheer went up at that, and Baril went back to his place on the barricade, hunching his shoulders against the rain and standing next to men he'd fought with for months. Men and woman he'd grown up with, farmers and shopkeepers turned trained soldiers.
Baril hadn't had an ounce of fightin' blood in him at one point, either. Funny how times had changed.
The Night Watch was based all over Duskwood, but with what some people were calling “The Second Plague” rampaging across Azeroth, they had all come back to defend Darkshire, because if they didn't, no one would.
They'd formed barricades around as much of the town as they could afford to defend, and now civilians were huddled inside that space as the Night Watch and a few hastily recruited adventurers tried to hold back the undead.
The weather certainly wasn't helping them. Baril glanced up at the sky for a moment and scowled. Damn fog. It got all in your eyes so you can't see more then a few feet ahead, in your ears so you can't hear nothing, and when you do you can't tell where it's coming from.
It gets in your nose, too, so you can't smell naught but wet and damp. He didn't envy Captain Grange's scouts right about now, out in the muck and the dark, tryin' to spot the undead without gettin' spotted themselves, and then trying to get back to town without gettin' lost in the mist to warn the rest of the Watch.
A lone figure moved out of the fog and into visibly right then, yelling “Don't shoot!” along with Baril as he heard ten or twelve crossbows getting ready to fire.
“Let me in!” The figure shouted up at them, “I'm not infected, for Light's sake.” Baril tilted his head. He recognized that voice... “Eve?! Light, woman, what the hell are you doin' down here at a time like this?! Go and get a ladder, someone, n' let her up.”
A ladder was lowered, and Eve Gennings scrambled up. She was a tall woman with a boyish figure and brown hair cut like a mans. She had used that boyish figure and haircut to disguise herself as a man during the Third War, where she'd fought alongside Baril and the other members of their squad.
These days, she worked up at Netherguard Keep. Baril was both angry and glad she was here at the same time.
“Why ain't you at Netherguard?” He asked as soon as she was safely on top of the barricade. “It's dangerous here!”
She gave him a Look.
“I know it's dangerous here, that's why I'm here, dumbass. Netherguard is quiet except for messengers heading through and I thought you'd appreciate the information and help.” Eve said as she raised an eyebrow, looking around at the Watchmen waiting for Baril to decide.
“You're in charge?” She asked, looking like she was trying to hold back a laugh.
“Only for this barricade.” Baril said, ignoring her amused tone. He'd known her long enough to know she was just teasing.
“Commander Ebonlock and Captain Grange have their hands full, and we're short a few men anyways. There wasn't really anyone else.” He shrugged a bit sheepishly at the truth of it.
He'd liked to of thought that he was put in charge for leadership skills, and that may've been a contributing factor, but it wasn't the main reason. There just wasn't enough people. There never was with the Watch, it seemed like.
“Get back into position.” Baril snapped at the watchmen, even though they really hadn't moved. They were just paying too much attention to him and too little to outside the barricade.
“So, what information you got?” He asked Eve quietly as he stepped to the side a bit. She sighed. “Shattrath's lower city is a hellhole and the rest of city is in danger of being overrun. Most of Stormwind is infested, but they've barricaded the Cathedral District. Ironforge is holding, and Exodar and Darnassus haven't seen much of anything. Booty Bay is chaos. And, well, you know how Darkshire is doing.”
Baril chuckled grimly, hoping like hell his parents were safe in the Cathedral District and that Noc was safe.
“Yeah, I do. We're the damn cannon fodder as far as Stormwind is concerned. The only real thing between them and the undead from Booty Bay, if you don't count Goldshire and figured the undead will scoot around Sentinel Hill.”
He spat over the side of the barricade. “Damn lucky boys in Westfall, at least they don't have to deal with this shit.”
Eve was about to reply when a scout burst out of the distant fog, shouting as he scrambled up one side of the barricade with surprising agility. “Thirty or so ghouls headed this way!” And then he was gone, doubtless to tell the Commander and Captain.
The silence that followed after his footsteps died away was so deep it made the Veiled Sea look like a puddle. Everyone just stood there for a second.
“Right!” Baril shouted, “Here they come, lads. Crossbows at the ready. Fire on my command n' give 'em hell when you do!”
Everyone moved to face the gloom, shufflin' or coughing or just generally making noise, but as soon as everyone was as ready as they could be, it got real quiet again, everyone trying to hear the first warning shuffle of an undead, or the gurgling cry of a ghoul.
Baril kissed the symbol of the Holy Light hangin' around his neck, muttering a prayer and hoping it would do some good.
Then they waited.
A minute ticked past, then another. Someone cleared their throat quietly. It felt like an eternity.
Then a strong wind whipped past, cold and frigid and sweeping the fog away, exposing dozens of ghouls trying to hide in the mist. Baril swore but the breeze had already disappeared and cloaked the undead again.
“Steady!” He shouted. Baril knew they wanted to fire, but they were running low on bolts as it was. “Steady. Let them get closer.”
They weren't kept waiting long this time before the ghouls seemed to appear out of nowhere, swarming around the bottom of the barricade and trying to climb up, gurgling and howling.
“FIRE!” Baril yelled over the noise. There was a collective 'twang' as the crossbows fired at roughly the same time, and he saw some ghouls go over. But there were still plenty more.
“Alright, fire at will! Aim for their heads!”
It wasn't a pretty fight. The Watch was made up little more then trained civilians. A few were soldiers like Baril, they were definitely in the minority. Still, doesn't take a genius to reload a crossbow and all they really had to do was aim down at the ghouls and fire.
It would've help if there weren't so damn many of the undead. Seemed like for every one they killed two more took its place- there had to be more then thirty, Baril thought. Surely.
Then a soldier a few men down the line screamed and toppled over as a ghoul lurched up to the top, pouncing on top of the watchman tearing and clawing. Baril threw down his crossbow and drew his sword, smashing in the ghoul's head with the hilt of his sword, but it was too late for the watchman.
Baril looked down at the fresh corpse, the scent of blood overwhelming his senses for a moment. Then he bent down and hurled the body over the side. There were a few horrified gasps, and Baril met their stares, fury in his gaze. “He'll reanimate into a ghoul any second now. We can't have them getting over this barricade and into the town!”
Already, he could hear the screams. The howling of a man he knew becoming a ghoul.
Those screams would haunt him for a long time.
They fought long into the night. The original group of ghouls had long been defeated, but more just kept pouring in. Baril ordered the watchmen on as best he could, wondering how the other barricades- or hell, how the whole world- was faring. Everything looked bleak, but a stubborn part of Baril refused to call the situation hopeless.
He kept up morale as best he could, leading the men in song during fighting. It wasn't good singing and the cheerful tunes and dirty lyrics sounded wrong in the gloomy atmosphere, but it was full of defiance.
But they were confined to silence whenever there was a break in the fighting. They couldn't afford to have the undead sneaking up on them. That was when everyone took the time to rest while a few remained on watch. A few managed to nap a few minutes of sleep here and there, while some others ate a hot meal made by the folks in the Scarlet Raven tavern.
But in ways it was worse, because when you weren't bellowing some dirty old song at the top of your lungs, you couldn't block out the screams. The screams of the the dying, and the undead.
Baril stood out on the barricade with a few others on watch, the collar of his shirt turned up against the rain as he listened. He made no real noise himself, and if it wasn't for his red hair, he'd have faded into the shadow of the building that the barricade was constructed against. Even then, it was difficult to see him.
He didn't see anything out in the fog, either, which is why he was so surprised when a huge meat hook whirled out of the darkness, embedded itself in park of the barricade, and pulled.
Furniture splintered and cracked as it was pulled away, the whole barricade rocked, and Baril went “Shit.”
“It's Stitches!” Someone shouted with terror and dismay as the abomination loomed out of the darkness.
It could be said, then, Baril's thought process streamlined itself into these facts:
1.Stitches is an abomination.
2.This is a barricade designed to hold back a bunch of little ghouls, not a big abomination.
3. A big abomination could rip this thing apart with ease and wreak havoc on the town, not to mention let the ghouls in.
4.It's gotta be stopped.
Which is why he grabbed a torch, drew his sword, and leapt down off the barricade, using the corpses gathered around the bottom to cushion his fall. He head one of the sentries should behind him but Baril didn't hear as he ran up, slashed one of Stiches's legs, and ran like hell.
He heard the big abomination grunt in surprised pain, then turn around and lurch after the lone watchman running for his life down the road.
Baril was good at running. You didn't survive long in the Night Watch if you weren't good at outrunning the creepy crawlies of the night. But Stitches was another matter entirely. They'd always had trouble dealing with the abomination at the best of times and why now, why now, why'd it have to come now...
He ran with no idea as to where he was going, just knowing that he had to get the abomination away from the town. But the adrenaline was starting to leave him and his breathe was starting to come in gasps and wheezes, and he could hear the abomination gaining on him.
He'd have to turn in fight, then. Better that then to die running away.
So he turned around, drew his sword, and as Stitches came looming out of the fog it was surprised by a sword to the face. It staggered backwards, then flung its meat hook, bringing the butcher's cleaver down on the ground where Baril had been a moment before.
Ok, Baril thought, don't panic. Keep a cool head and you'll be alri- Baril let out a surprised, choked noise as the meat hook came whirling 'round again without warning and smacked him in the chest, its tip going inwards with white-hot pain.
He stared down at it dumbly for a moment, his face white, then made a noise he didn't know he could make as the abomination ripped the hook out in a spray of red.
Oh god, oh god, oh god. Tears welled up in his eyes of their own accord as he fell to his knees, blood dripping out of his mouth and down his chest as he tried to cough it away but could not. His sword lay out of reach and he couldn't move again to grab it for the pain of his wounds.
Baril looked up at the abomination, waiting for the end.
Stitches raised its cleaver and prepared to end Baril's life, but before it could do so it staggered suddenly, as though something had hit it. It looked around, bewildered, then slowly turned and wandered off into the fog.
He stared after it, bewildered and not believing his luck. Why had it just gone? What had happened? Baril stared after it until his vision blurred, then let out a low, bloody wheeze, slumping down on the road. It didn't matter, really. Blood was pouring out of his chest, and the world was going dim. He wasn't going to last much longer- all he'd escaped was a quick end at the hands of the abomination.
As he lay there, the rain falling on him softly, he heard the chink of armor and he felt the air getting colder. A boot appeared in his line of sight, frost drifting out from it. A knee came into his view as someone bent down, and a moment passed before he was gently picked up.
“This is not the end.” A ghostly voice whispered in his ear, “This is only the beginning.”
It was dark and foggy, with a light rain falling like a fine mist, soaking through cloth and armor, and causing chafes and chills. Thunder rumbled distantly overhead like an angry god, making it a usual night in Duskwood.
Baril stood with the other watchmen on the barricade they'd built. It was made of a few upturned carts, some furniture, and anything reasonably heavy that could be used to block off the wide pathway that led into the town square. They'd even manage to make a crude walkway, which is what they stood on now, waiting.
“Right, boys.” Baril said, turning to looking the ragtag mix of watchmen and recruited citizens standing in the rain. They held their crossbows close, their faces pale and grim in the oily light of the torches.
They were scared. He could see it in their faces and smell it on them.
Hell, he was scared too. Duskwood was a place full of horrors, but no one had expected this.
No one had seen this coming.
“They haven't hit us here yet, but that could go changin' at any time. Commander Ebonlock and Captain Grange are doin' their best at holding 'em off at the other barricades,” - even through the fog he could hear them shouting orders in the distance- “But I want you nice n' alert in case they do.” He clapped a man on the shoulder as he walked by, trying to put on a brave face. “The Light'll see us through, one way or another!”
A weak cheer went up at that, and Baril went back to his place on the barricade, hunching his shoulders against the rain and standing next to men he'd fought with for months. Men and woman he'd grown up with, farmers and shopkeepers turned trained soldiers.
Baril hadn't had an ounce of fightin' blood in him at one point, either. Funny how times had changed.
The Night Watch was based all over Duskwood, but with what some people were calling “The Second Plague” rampaging across Azeroth, they had all come back to defend Darkshire, because if they didn't, no one would.
They'd formed barricades around as much of the town as they could afford to defend, and now civilians were huddled inside that space as the Night Watch and a few hastily recruited adventurers tried to hold back the undead.
The weather certainly wasn't helping them. Baril glanced up at the sky for a moment and scowled. Damn fog. It got all in your eyes so you can't see more then a few feet ahead, in your ears so you can't hear nothing, and when you do you can't tell where it's coming from.
It gets in your nose, too, so you can't smell naught but wet and damp. He didn't envy Captain Grange's scouts right about now, out in the muck and the dark, tryin' to spot the undead without gettin' spotted themselves, and then trying to get back to town without gettin' lost in the mist to warn the rest of the Watch.
A lone figure moved out of the fog and into visibly right then, yelling “Don't shoot!” along with Baril as he heard ten or twelve crossbows getting ready to fire.
“Let me in!” The figure shouted up at them, “I'm not infected, for Light's sake.” Baril tilted his head. He recognized that voice... “Eve?! Light, woman, what the hell are you doin' down here at a time like this?! Go and get a ladder, someone, n' let her up.”
A ladder was lowered, and Eve Gennings scrambled up. She was a tall woman with a boyish figure and brown hair cut like a mans. She had used that boyish figure and haircut to disguise herself as a man during the Third War, where she'd fought alongside Baril and the other members of their squad.
These days, she worked up at Netherguard Keep. Baril was both angry and glad she was here at the same time.
“Why ain't you at Netherguard?” He asked as soon as she was safely on top of the barricade. “It's dangerous here!”
She gave him a Look.
“I know it's dangerous here, that's why I'm here, dumbass. Netherguard is quiet except for messengers heading through and I thought you'd appreciate the information and help.” Eve said as she raised an eyebrow, looking around at the Watchmen waiting for Baril to decide.
“You're in charge?” She asked, looking like she was trying to hold back a laugh.
“Only for this barricade.” Baril said, ignoring her amused tone. He'd known her long enough to know she was just teasing.
“Commander Ebonlock and Captain Grange have their hands full, and we're short a few men anyways. There wasn't really anyone else.” He shrugged a bit sheepishly at the truth of it.
He'd liked to of thought that he was put in charge for leadership skills, and that may've been a contributing factor, but it wasn't the main reason. There just wasn't enough people. There never was with the Watch, it seemed like.
“Get back into position.” Baril snapped at the watchmen, even though they really hadn't moved. They were just paying too much attention to him and too little to outside the barricade.
“So, what information you got?” He asked Eve quietly as he stepped to the side a bit. She sighed. “Shattrath's lower city is a hellhole and the rest of city is in danger of being overrun. Most of Stormwind is infested, but they've barricaded the Cathedral District. Ironforge is holding, and Exodar and Darnassus haven't seen much of anything. Booty Bay is chaos. And, well, you know how Darkshire is doing.”
Baril chuckled grimly, hoping like hell his parents were safe in the Cathedral District and that Noc was safe.
“Yeah, I do. We're the damn cannon fodder as far as Stormwind is concerned. The only real thing between them and the undead from Booty Bay, if you don't count Goldshire and figured the undead will scoot around Sentinel Hill.”
He spat over the side of the barricade. “Damn lucky boys in Westfall, at least they don't have to deal with this shit.”
Eve was about to reply when a scout burst out of the distant fog, shouting as he scrambled up one side of the barricade with surprising agility. “Thirty or so ghouls headed this way!” And then he was gone, doubtless to tell the Commander and Captain.
The silence that followed after his footsteps died away was so deep it made the Veiled Sea look like a puddle. Everyone just stood there for a second.
“Right!” Baril shouted, “Here they come, lads. Crossbows at the ready. Fire on my command n' give 'em hell when you do!”
Everyone moved to face the gloom, shufflin' or coughing or just generally making noise, but as soon as everyone was as ready as they could be, it got real quiet again, everyone trying to hear the first warning shuffle of an undead, or the gurgling cry of a ghoul.
Baril kissed the symbol of the Holy Light hangin' around his neck, muttering a prayer and hoping it would do some good.
Then they waited.
A minute ticked past, then another. Someone cleared their throat quietly. It felt like an eternity.
Then a strong wind whipped past, cold and frigid and sweeping the fog away, exposing dozens of ghouls trying to hide in the mist. Baril swore but the breeze had already disappeared and cloaked the undead again.
“Steady!” He shouted. Baril knew they wanted to fire, but they were running low on bolts as it was. “Steady. Let them get closer.”
They weren't kept waiting long this time before the ghouls seemed to appear out of nowhere, swarming around the bottom of the barricade and trying to climb up, gurgling and howling.
“FIRE!” Baril yelled over the noise. There was a collective 'twang' as the crossbows fired at roughly the same time, and he saw some ghouls go over. But there were still plenty more.
“Alright, fire at will! Aim for their heads!”
It wasn't a pretty fight. The Watch was made up little more then trained civilians. A few were soldiers like Baril, they were definitely in the minority. Still, doesn't take a genius to reload a crossbow and all they really had to do was aim down at the ghouls and fire.
It would've help if there weren't so damn many of the undead. Seemed like for every one they killed two more took its place- there had to be more then thirty, Baril thought. Surely.
Then a soldier a few men down the line screamed and toppled over as a ghoul lurched up to the top, pouncing on top of the watchman tearing and clawing. Baril threw down his crossbow and drew his sword, smashing in the ghoul's head with the hilt of his sword, but it was too late for the watchman.
Baril looked down at the fresh corpse, the scent of blood overwhelming his senses for a moment. Then he bent down and hurled the body over the side. There were a few horrified gasps, and Baril met their stares, fury in his gaze. “He'll reanimate into a ghoul any second now. We can't have them getting over this barricade and into the town!”
Already, he could hear the screams. The howling of a man he knew becoming a ghoul.
Those screams would haunt him for a long time.
They fought long into the night. The original group of ghouls had long been defeated, but more just kept pouring in. Baril ordered the watchmen on as best he could, wondering how the other barricades- or hell, how the whole world- was faring. Everything looked bleak, but a stubborn part of Baril refused to call the situation hopeless.
He kept up morale as best he could, leading the men in song during fighting. It wasn't good singing and the cheerful tunes and dirty lyrics sounded wrong in the gloomy atmosphere, but it was full of defiance.
But they were confined to silence whenever there was a break in the fighting. They couldn't afford to have the undead sneaking up on them. That was when everyone took the time to rest while a few remained on watch. A few managed to nap a few minutes of sleep here and there, while some others ate a hot meal made by the folks in the Scarlet Raven tavern.
But in ways it was worse, because when you weren't bellowing some dirty old song at the top of your lungs, you couldn't block out the screams. The screams of the the dying, and the undead.
Baril stood out on the barricade with a few others on watch, the collar of his shirt turned up against the rain as he listened. He made no real noise himself, and if it wasn't for his red hair, he'd have faded into the shadow of the building that the barricade was constructed against. Even then, it was difficult to see him.
He didn't see anything out in the fog, either, which is why he was so surprised when a huge meat hook whirled out of the darkness, embedded itself in park of the barricade, and pulled.
Furniture splintered and cracked as it was pulled away, the whole barricade rocked, and Baril went “Shit.”
“It's Stitches!” Someone shouted with terror and dismay as the abomination loomed out of the darkness.
It could be said, then, Baril's thought process streamlined itself into these facts:
1.Stitches is an abomination.
2.This is a barricade designed to hold back a bunch of little ghouls, not a big abomination.
3. A big abomination could rip this thing apart with ease and wreak havoc on the town, not to mention let the ghouls in.
4.It's gotta be stopped.
Which is why he grabbed a torch, drew his sword, and leapt down off the barricade, using the corpses gathered around the bottom to cushion his fall. He head one of the sentries should behind him but Baril didn't hear as he ran up, slashed one of Stiches's legs, and ran like hell.
He heard the big abomination grunt in surprised pain, then turn around and lurch after the lone watchman running for his life down the road.
Baril was good at running. You didn't survive long in the Night Watch if you weren't good at outrunning the creepy crawlies of the night. But Stitches was another matter entirely. They'd always had trouble dealing with the abomination at the best of times and why now, why now, why'd it have to come now...
He ran with no idea as to where he was going, just knowing that he had to get the abomination away from the town. But the adrenaline was starting to leave him and his breathe was starting to come in gasps and wheezes, and he could hear the abomination gaining on him.
He'd have to turn in fight, then. Better that then to die running away.
So he turned around, drew his sword, and as Stitches came looming out of the fog it was surprised by a sword to the face. It staggered backwards, then flung its meat hook, bringing the butcher's cleaver down on the ground where Baril had been a moment before.
Ok, Baril thought, don't panic. Keep a cool head and you'll be alri- Baril let out a surprised, choked noise as the meat hook came whirling 'round again without warning and smacked him in the chest, its tip going inwards with white-hot pain.
He stared down at it dumbly for a moment, his face white, then made a noise he didn't know he could make as the abomination ripped the hook out in a spray of red.
Oh god, oh god, oh god. Tears welled up in his eyes of their own accord as he fell to his knees, blood dripping out of his mouth and down his chest as he tried to cough it away but could not. His sword lay out of reach and he couldn't move again to grab it for the pain of his wounds.
Baril looked up at the abomination, waiting for the end.
Stitches raised its cleaver and prepared to end Baril's life, but before it could do so it staggered suddenly, as though something had hit it. It looked around, bewildered, then slowly turned and wandered off into the fog.
He stared after it, bewildered and not believing his luck. Why had it just gone? What had happened? Baril stared after it until his vision blurred, then let out a low, bloody wheeze, slumping down on the road. It didn't matter, really. Blood was pouring out of his chest, and the world was going dim. He wasn't going to last much longer- all he'd escaped was a quick end at the hands of the abomination.
As he lay there, the rain falling on him softly, he heard the chink of armor and he felt the air getting colder. A boot appeared in his line of sight, frost drifting out from it. A knee came into his view as someone bent down, and a moment passed before he was gently picked up.
“This is not the end.” A ghostly voice whispered in his ear, “This is only the beginning.”
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