As Life Goes On : Chapter One
As Life Goes On
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This is just a pilot story, and my first story written and posted publicly xD. Anyway, anything helpful is appreciated and welcomed.
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The priestess stares at the slightly aged, wooden doorway of the tavern. It's been sometime since the last patron arrived, but none of them take any real notice of the night elf sitting at her table in the back of the room. The shadowed corner was her personal choice. The priestess doesn't like to engage in pointless conversation, since she is a busy woman who has to deal with... things.
Taking a sip from the slowly warming ale infront of her, her eyes dart towards the door in hopes that the man she is meant to meet is the one coming through the door. But it is for naught, as another human comes in. Her druid contact was due an hour ago...exactly how could he be late when she is sitting in a tavern located not 40 paces from where has to stand for the greater part of the day, mentoring druids in thier ways when they choose to honor the human city of Stormwind with thier presence. The priestess lets out a long, drawn-out sigh, wishing to be home amoungst the trees of Ashenvale, enjoying the glorious tranquility of nature. But her business maintains her presence in Stormwind for the time being.
The door creaks open slightly, letting a dusty shaft of light pierce the veil of shadow within the tavern. A male night elf begins to walk in, looking around, searching for his intended correspondant. His soft, golden glowing eyes reach thier target, the night elf priestess sitting in the back, past all the loud, ale stained patrons who appear to be singing some sort of song of the maiden of the depths. Stories like this have circled around all the crews of ships, it still surprises some when they first encounter the naga, as if they never truely believed the stories the sailors spun and twisted in thier own ways. Nothing but a fading past-time now, as reality dawns upon the the Eastern Kingdoms. There is more to thier world than what is just before them.
As the obvious druid walks between the tables packed full of drunken patrols, even through this damned engulfing shadowy darkness that thrives within the tavern, his long, dark blue hair slowly sways side to side, sometimes getting caught in the branches that make up his leather shoulderguards. Tiny green leaves adorn the branches, but they remain steadfastly stuck to the branches, as if frozen in time, never wanting to part from the branch that had once had life going through it, unknown how many years ago that was, but certainly some time. His kilt hung down, but it didn't impede his movement, as he took his carefully planned steps, nearing the priestess with amazing speed considering all the actions of the drunken humans that surrounded him. As he reached the table, wordlessly, he pulled the chair opposite the priestess out, enabling him to sit at the table. Upon sitting down and getting himself comfortable, he raises his head and stares at the priestess.
"Elurnera..." the druid said.
"I don't want to hear it," the priestess, Elurnera, replied. "I have enough problems to deal with, I rather not have to deal with your critism too, Varathil."
The druid, Varathil, laughs. "Don't be so quick to judge Elurnera,you know I know what some of your problems are, and you also know that I respect your space, but do not deny your calling the truth..."
Now staring angrily at the druid, Elurnera contemplates her words carefully. "You must understand that not even the light can fathom the extent of my problems... only the unholy can... for they are my, shall we say, torturers..."
Sighing, Varathil gives up on his arguement. "So anyway, what did you want me to help you with? It can't possibly for another audience with Highlord Bolvar in an attempt to get some sympathy for your actions? He didn't listen to you last time, what makes you think he'll-" He stops mid-sentance, Elurnera giving him the coldest stare one could give. Her face was full of the same level of grim and morbid influence that shrouded that one that left her this way. "All I mean is that you shouldn't both the nobles of Stormwind. No one cares about heroics within the royalty, all they care about is thier own personal gain within thier kingdom."
"You think I don't know that?" Elurnera sarcastically asked her guest, "I honestly gave up caring long ago. After the fall of Naxxaramas, no one cared at all for the welfare of the heroes that ventured and sacrificed all, just to maintain the safety of all that rested within the unjustified safety of the cities, towns and villages that make up this Azeroth. I understand the order of it all, but one can't help but question the idea of it all when someone doesn't stand up to defend for thier way of life..."
"You really shouldn't give up hope that you will find someone, one day, Elurnera, even if all the light that you command can't heal those wounds, you never know when you find someone that can heal the scares of the past..." Varathil slowly extended his arm out, his hand softly gripping the end of Elurnera's light blue robe sleeve, in an attempt to console the now teary eyed night elf across the table. "Come on, calm down Elurnera... you know as much as I do tha-"
"Hey! Miss!?" A couple of the drunken tavern-goers begin to walk up to the table that night elves are sitting at. As they reach the edge of the table, both of the night elves can clearly smell the extent of ale and rum that this particular group has drank, possibly just in this one sitting. The leaders clothes are somewhat still wet from spilling his ale, but also clear marks where the alcohol has clearly dried up and left a memerable pattern of brownish to orange discolourations to the unwashed shirt. Leaning over the table, staring at Varathil, "Is he-eee causing you any *hic* problems, mam?"
"Excuse me, but will you get out of my face..." Varathil begins to warn the drunk. "I do not want to be forced to take action..."
"Well, sir, I *hic* just saw the *hic* pretty lady crying, is all." The drunken sailor replied, stumbling over the pronunciations of various words, which results in more of his strong breath going into Varathil's face. He turns his head towards Elurnera. "Never trust anyone that tries to *hic* sweet-talk a pretty thing like you, missy..."
Elurnera stares at him coldly. "Yes... well, thanks for the advice. Goodbye." She turns her head slightly, staring at Varathil. She nods her head in an silent attempt at a goodbye, sidestepping the drunken group that amassed around thier drunken leader, and walks towards the entrance. Reaching the door, Elurnera slowly opens the door. Once again, the shaft of blinding light pierces the veil of shadow throughout the tavern, only tarnished by the floating dust passing through the light, becoming visable to the naked eye. With a sigh of relief, as if expecting something to be waiting outside for her, Elurnera steps outside, staring over the park, looking up at the sky, seeing the sun slowly set along the artifical horizon created the rooftops surrounding the park district.