(2021-07-21) What The Acceptable Variant Is Meant To Be

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Author:	Athena
Summary:	Oranna struggles to come to terms with the revelations of Uldaman, and Bargrimm consoles her through the fallout.
Rating:	T for Teen

Logging started on 07/19/2021

Bargrimm stamps up the stairs, wiping his hands on a cloth.

[Bargrimm]: “Evenin', Sunbeam.”

Oranna is sitting at the table with wide, unfocused eyes. Her hands brush up and down her arms almost mechanically, and she is listening to a log from strange golden discs that is saying "would long be an integral part of this world's development cycle."

[Bargrimm]: “Lass? Wha's wrong, love?”

Bargrimm pulls his lens off, dropping it onto the table as he steps quickly over to Oranna.

Oranna looks up, as if she's only just noticing he's there, and looks back at the disc. She speaks along with the disc, "This race would be instrumental in fulfillin' th' Creator's long term development objectives fer Azeroth."

Bargrimm very gently reaches out to lay a hand on her shoulder.

[Bargrimm]: “Ye find tha' down in th' dig?” He’s only half-listening to the disk, much more focused on Oranna.

Oranna pauses the disc, and reaches up to grab at his hand like a desperate lifeline. "They said they made us. Dwarfs. Tha' we were made, ta be tools. Tha' we were an acceptable variant, an' good tools, an' I'm - " She breaks off, her voice choking on a sob. She presses her face into his hand, practically crushing it in a too-tight grip.

Bargrimm just wraps his arms around her, holding all questions. "Nay now, love. Yer home, an' I'm here too."

Oranna shakes her head. "I dinna e'en know…I dinna wha's worse, Bargrimm. Th' others, they keep sayin' it doesna matter. But it does. Ta me. Am I wha' I'm s'pposed ta be?" She looks at him with wide eyes filled with tears. “Or am I failin' a' tha' purpose, too?”

[Bargrimm]: Aye, tha' ye are. Yer exactly wha' ye should be. Ye no' be failin' at anythin' there.

Oranna puts a hand on her mouth, as if to try to shove the words back where they came from, and several tears roll down her face, leaving tracks in the dirt still there.

[Oranna]: Ye dinna know tha'. Ye…*she looks down a the discs* They dinna say. Th' discs, they dinna say wha' th' purpose was. I've listened ta it o'er an' o'er an' it's jus'….*she restarts the disc from the line she was listening to before*

Bargrimm drops a kiss on her cheek, heedless of the dirt.

Lore Keeper Norgannon says: The Creators wanted to synthesize a race that would long be an integral part of this world's development cycle after they had departed.

Bargrimm lets the discs play, holding Oranna close during the whole sequencing.

[Oranna]: “Nothin' more. Jus' tha'…we were tools they wanted ta make, an' then….*she looks up at him* We're jus' th' other side o' troggs. Tha's wha' it says. Tha' we were one thing, an' then we went two ways. Some stress…an' we're jus' troggs.” She holds her chest like it hurts. "I'm nothin' like a trogg. Nothin'. I'd ne'er…"

Bargrimm hrmmms. "Damn straight yer no'."

Oranna almost collapses against him, clearly exhausted. "I'm…I'm sorry. I know I'm no'…I'm no' makin' any sense. I…" She hands him the discs weakly, sniffling. "Ye should…ye should listen ta them."

Befound curls up next to Oranna's side, making a faint whining sound at Bargrimm.

[Bargrimm]: “Ye wan' me t' do tha' here? Seems t' me ye been listenin' a fair while already.” Bargrimm looks stricken that he was gone so long.

Oranna shakes her head. "It…it's fine. I've…I've heard them. I know wha' they say. An' ye deserve ta know wha' they say. About us.”

Bargrimm nods firmly. "Righ'. Let's see wha' it's all about, then. Ye look like I should make somethin' fer eatin' while I listen."

Oranna looks at the table like eating is something she's forgotten is a thing that she should do. She brushes at her face with a hand, and nods. One hand moves to grip her arm in a tight, white knuckled grip.

Bargrimm watches carefully and fetches her a tankard of water first. He starts assembling a quick-make cold meal for Oranna while he listens.

Oranna flinches every time the disc says the word "variant."

Bargrimm hmphs a few times at various moments, but holds his commentary until the discs finish their record. “Well. Tha's all neat an' tied wi' a bow, aye?” He sounds very dry and somewhat skeptical.

Bargrimm gently sets a tray of bread, cheese, and fruit in front of Oranna.

Oranna nods weakly, her hand brushing up and down her skin like she's reassuring herself it's not stone. "We saw them down there, Bargrimm. Th' Earthen. They're no'…they're no' people. Jus' like…machines. Golems. Tha' look like us in Stoneform."

[Bargrimm]: “Righ'. So at least we have tha' t' build on. Well.”

[Oranna]: “I've ne'er really thought about it. How quiet it goes in my head when I'm Stone like tha'. Wha' tha' really…wha' tha' really means. If I'm jus'…like tha', deep down. Jus' th' same sort o' nothin'. With jus' an acceptable variation.” Her tone is almost hollow, and her eyes look well past the food, not seeing it at all.

Bargrimm gently pulls her hand out and places a morsel in her palm. "Eat, love, aye?"

Oranna looks at it and mechanically puts it in her mouth to chew and swallow. "They dinna say wha' it was, either. Wha' was th' high-stress tha' created th'….variations."

[Bargrimm]: “Could ha' been anythin'. Maybe tha' Well th' elves talk about explodin' like they say.”

[Oranna]: “If tha's why there's so many troggs. If they used ta be…if it's possible fer a dwarf ta…if she was broken back badly enough if she'd jus' be…”*she puts the rest of the food back on the plate, looking pale*

[Bargrimm]: “Nay, record says these Earthen did th' changin'. No indication any dwarf could go trogg. Only tha' Earthen lot.”

Oranna looks up at Bargrimm, stricken. "When…when I needed ta…when I shoot, sometimes, an' things are too much…I go…well. Ye saw me. Wha' if I'm jus'…wha' if I'm jus' goin' back ta Earthen, when I do tha'?" There's a note of panic in her voice. “Tha's wha' they were like, down there. Jus'…followin' a pattern. See invaders. Attack invaders. Jus'…do it, with nothin' behind their eyes.”

Bargrimm quickly grabs both her hands. "Lass, we been dwarves for thousands o' years now. If tha' sort o' thing could happen, there's been plenty o' time an' chances fer it t' happen, an' we've never heard o' anythin' like. E'en if 'twere possible, odds are shockin' long against it happenin', ye ken?”

Oranna shuts her eyes and her face flickers in pain. "But wha' if…wha' if it does. Happen. People go missin' sometimes. An' th' troggs…they ne'er seem ta end. Wha' if all this time, there were some…An'…I dinna know wha's worse ta think on. If I've been doin' wha' I'm doin'…if I'm th' way I am because I'm jus'…because we all were made ta do somethin', or if I've been missin' on doin' th' purpose we were made fer this whole time. An' Bargrimm - I hate it. I hate no' knowin'. Oranna is in full tears now, voice breaking, and little gasps of sobs in between her words.

Bargrimm pulls her close again. "No' goin' t' happen, lass. I've got ye, an' I'll keep ye safe an' sound. Dinnae care wha' sort o' history migh' have happened years gone. Yer my Sunbeam, an' tha's never changin'."

Befound presses so hard against Oranna she scoots the hunter slightly in the chair, purring in an attempt at generating cat healz.

Oranna cries for several long moments, just repeating that she's not a golem, and not a trogg, and not a tool at various intervals.

Bargrimm holds her, whispering firm statements to the affirmative in her ear every so often, letting the emotions come.

Oranna sniffles, and seems to be calming down, repeatedly brushing a hand against her face, even as the tears keep coming. "If this was wha' th' Explorer's League found…an' they didna tell us…jus' cooked up th' stuff about how we were made by Titans, an' left off all th' rest…all th' parts o' it tha' are no' some sort o' nice story how we're some sort o' …chosen race o' somethin'….”*she sniffles loudly* “I dinna e'en know wha' ta do with all this Bargrimm. Who…who I'm s'pposed ta e'en tell.”

Bargrimm cradles Oranna against his side, one hand brushing the hair at the temple. "No' quite sure there, either. If th' League already knows… migh' need t' see if someone higher ranked can listen."

Oranna leans against him, eyes closed. "I'd sound mad if I tried ta jus' say it. Canna go around…lookin' a' people righ' now. Seein' th' Earthen instead of regular folk, jus'…thinkin' how they dinna e'en know wha' we were. How…how we're no' e'en…we're barely e'en from here. Jus'…dirt. An' somethin' some engineer tinkerin' race made up.” Oranna looks over at the tiny little dwarven figurine that looks like a Wildhammer dwarf that Jo made, and she makes a high pitched sound of distress as more tears fall.

Bargrimm nods, letting her settle. "Well, tha' disk migh' do th' talkin' — ah, Sunbeam. There ye are." His arms tighten, holding her.

[Oranna]: “I…”*she sounds tired and presses a hand to her face* “I'm sorry. I…I jus' canna stop thinkin'…about it. It's…it's been a long day.” Oranna reaches over and goes to sip some of the water. As if realizing how thirsty she is the moment it touches her lips, the sip turns into a lot of gulping, and she drains the tankard.

Bargrimm looks thoughtfully at the small figurine, but opts to bypass it for the time being. "Aye, I reckon it has. Jus' remember, none o' this changes a single thing fer us, righ'? I love ye just th' same as I did this mornin'. An' so does Befound here.”

Oranna nods, and squeezes his hand. "I know. I know it's no'…it doesna change anythin' like tha'. I…I jus'. I ne'er really thought tha' there was some way I could be doin' it all wrong jus' by bein' a dwarf. Thought th' only thing I had ta worry about was disappointin’' th' family, an' failin' a' bein' a warrior. Now…” *she gestures to the discs* “I'm no' sure how much o' an acceptable variant I e'en am.”

Bargrimm stifles a pffff. "Dinnae matter where we come from in tha' case. Them Creator's are no' around t' sound their opinions, so they can sod off fer all we should care."

Oranna looks up with a small smile at that, huffing a very weak chuckle. She picks off a grape to eat it, holding it in her hand for a long moment before she puts it in her mouth.

[Bargrimm]: “Ye get t' decide yer own value, lass. Tha' migh' be th' best thing these Titans or whoever e'er did was wanderin' off t' let honest folk make their own decisions. They wan' t' pass judgement on their work, they can set an appointment' wi' King Magni an' wait in line wi' everyone else.”

[Oranna]: *she chuckles* “Well. I still dinna think they're gods, anyway, th' Titans or th' Creators or whatever they're callin' themselves. Jus'…well. I wish they'd a' least said wha' it was we were made ta do, so I could decide proper a' least.” Oranna picks up another few grapes and eats them. She brushes a hand hard against her face, and the tears have stopped for the moment at least.

Bargrimm grimaces with a sigh. "Damn it all… hate t' say, but we migh' need t' poke inside a few more ruins if we're t' get tha' answer."

Oranna looks up at him. "Ye think tha's wha' they've been lookin' fer all this time, maybe? Th' League? No' tellin' us direct, jus' holdin' it close until they know wha' they're s'pposed ta be tellin' us is th' way we were meant ta be?" She looks at the discs critically, and frowns hard enough for her worry line to pop. "I wonder how many o' those 'tablets' they've been talkin' about are actually things like this. An' they've been holdin' back on us."

Bargrimm shrugs. "Mebbe so. Reckon ye'd need t' hold some feet t' th' fire t' get tha' answer. League can be a cagey lot."

Oranna nods and picks up some bread, eating it with less finesse than usual, as though she's started to realize how hungry she is. "Aye, well, tha' willna be me. I'm jus' as like ta head in there an' they'll jus' scatter, seein' th' truth o' it on my face."

Bargrimm gives a quiet chuckle, depositing a kiss on top of her head. "Aye, ye could send tha' faction all runnin' if ye minded t' do so."

Befound makes Sad Cat Eyes at Bargrimm, as if to ask if maybe he'd be willing to toss the Poor Creature some food as well.

Bargrimm finds a fish that Sprocket hadn't gotten to yet and slips it down to Befound.

Oranna leans into the quick kiss, and sniffles again. "I dinna want anythin' ta do with them righ' now, tha's fer sure. I jus'…" She sighs and leans back. "I dinna know how I'm goin' ta sleep, with all this in my head."

Befound eats the fish with gusto, purring loudly at Bargrimm.

[Bargrimm]: “Aye, Sunbeam, tha's — would havin' me by help ye there? I can pull out th' squeezebox an' play ye somethin' if ye like?”

Oranna smiles wider, and looks up with big warm eyes going soft with affection. "Hm. Aye..tha'…I'd like tha'. S'long as it didna keep ye up too long." She frowns just a little, looking him over, and blinks. "I…I'm sorry, I didna e'en ask ye…Was e'erythin' all righ'? On yer end? I…” *she pushes back her hair and straightens a little*

[Bargrimm]: “Oh, aye. Ogres, murlocs, trolls. Jus' th' sort o' thing as keeps th' arms limber. Bit o' whiplash from Miss Cressidha, tho. Portals on portals.”

Oranna nods and looks at him, and the food. "Did ye…I." Her face goes a little red with embarrassment. "Did ye e'en eat yet? I'm…I'm sorry, I didna e'en think…I was too…" She looks over at Befound suddenly. "Ach! I dinna think I e'en fed ye lass." She stands hurriedly, and goes over to her packs, which she had dropped near the door when she arrived. She reaches in and takes out multiple fish, apologizing in a low murmur to Befound.

Bargrimm chuckles. "Nay, I ate while th' box was coolin'. Ference had me make a box."

Oranna nods and comes back over, tucking her hair behind her ears, while Befound feasts on the fish and apology fish. She moves to his side with a sheepish sort of smile and opens her arms for a hug. "A box?"

[Bargrimm]: “Aye! Found some mighty nasty implements fer… somethin'. At least one o' 'em whispers. Ference wanted a safekeepin' spot, so I made 'em a lead-lined truesilver box. E'en Miss Cress said should work a treat.” He gently embraces Oranna, clasping her close andafter a momentsweeps her up off her feet, kissing her ear gleefully. “Missed ye somethin' terrible th' whole time!”

Oranna squeals a little, and then laughs. She loops one arm around his neck, and with the other brushes his hair back from his face. "Wha' I would ha' given ta ha' ye with…Bargrimm." Her voice goes a little quiet. "Wha' happened t' yer eyebrow?"

[Bargrimm]: “Oh! Oh, tha'. Er, bit o' an accident is all.”

Oranna glances at the monocle on the table, noting the hairline fracture, and looks back at him. One eyebrow goes up in a Power Word: Stormbreaker Eyebrow.

[Bargrimm]: “Nothin' t' worry about, tho. All's well ends well.”

[Oranna]: “Wha' kind o' accident?” She looks at the rest of him, one arm still holding onto him, and the other patting in places as though looking for signs of damage.

Bargrimm shrugs helplessly, setting her back down. "Jus' a wee miscalculation on a load is all. Compensatin’ fer ocean moisture. Got a bit carried away."

[Oranna]: “But yer alrigh'? Nothin' permanent?” Her motions are slowing down a little as she pats at him, and her cheeks go a little pink.

Bargrimm looks down at her with a soft smile. "Aye. Ye can check, if ye like. Fair certain I've still all me bits intact."

Oranna clears her throat, going even pinker, but stretches up on her toes to press a kiss to the cheek under the missing eyebrow. "Well. A' least it'll grow back, aye?"

[Bargrimm]: “Tha' it will.”

Oranna turns a brighter shade of red, but her eyes twinkle a little. "Oh, aye. Well." She sits back down and hurriedly puts some food in her mouth to distract from her blush.

Bargrimm chuckles and slips behind her, pressing a quick kiss to her neck above the pauldron. "An' I still have th' other one. Tha' lens design worked a charm."

Oranna shivers a little at the contact, and her face goes brighter. "Oh, tha's…tha's good." She swallows hard and reaches for the tankard of water, which is empty. She sets it back down, and reaches for her water skein at her belt, and takes a long drink.

Bargrimm scoops the lens back into his belt pouch for later and grins at Oranna.

[Bargrimm]: “I should probably get out o' these shop clothes, then. Come on downstairs if ye're ready fer bed before I'm done, aye?”

Bargrimm turns and heads downstairs, taking off his shirt and whistling cheerily.

Oranna goes very red, but nods up and down, shoving bread into her mouth to not say anything. It's clear by her expression, however, what she's visualizing.