(2023-03-17) Getting Trolled

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Author:	Saaron
Summary:	Briyanthe opens her door to find Gru'ze wanting to ask her some questions about the Kirin Tor… again.
Rating:	T for Teen

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Mentions of medical care of a loved one

“And… that’s all cleaned up, Landoran!” Briyanthe says, gently placing her brother’s head back on his pillow after changing his bedsheets. She smiles– as if the unconscious elf was going to answer – but her tired eyes show no emotion. Instead, her gaze drifts towards the floor, as she begins thinking of all the other chores she has to do on that day. Her shoulders drop slightly the longer the list she makes in her head goes on. Her smile slowly fades away, replaced by a deep, deep sigh as now the list goes from this day to the next one, and the next, and the next, and the next. She slowly drops to the floor and sits there for a good few minutes, exhausting herself even further thinking of all the cleaning, cooking, and administrative tasks that are to come.

Until she hears a knock on the door. An insistent one. The knuckles hit the wooden door of the Roseshine’s townhouse repeatedly, strongly.

Briyanthe passes a hand over her face, puts on her brightest of smiles, and rushes to the door, checking herself in the mirror as she does. Well. There’s no way to hide these dark circles under her eyes, anyway.

The priestess clears her throat and opens the door, speaking cheerfully.

“Welcome to the Roseshine residence, how may I hel—oh. It’s you again.”

On the other side of the door stands a troll with light blue skin, and a green mohawk, his face painted with light blue and white lines. He’s wearing a grey robe and brown gloves. Briyanthe has come to know this man as Gru’ze, as he’s been consistently coming to her home every few weeks, and being a general annoyance every time. Ever since their first meeting, the troll sends shivers down her spine. Not because she’s scared or because of her people’s history with trolls, but because the air around him is literally cold. Briyanthe stands between him and the door, she is not making the mistake of letting him in again. The one time she did was a long afternoon of politely trying to get him out.

“Briyanthe Roseshine. I come back to ya to know if you finally have answers to my previous questions,” he says, speaking slowly in a deep voice.

“I do have answers, yes, and I did give them to you the last times we met,” the elf answers, a forced smile on her face. She begins speaking quickly, anticipating all of his questions as she now knows them by heart. “No, I, unfortunately, cannot help you as I have no means of contacting the Kirin Tor. Yes, that means it is out of my control to take you to Dalaran. Indeed, I have a brother who works with the Kirin Tor, and sadly, he is not in any capacity to meet you to discuss such matters at the moment. I’ve been telling you all of this for months, now, and I truly regret that the Roseshine family cannot be of any help to you.” Gru’ze frowns. Briyanthe frowns. “Now, please, there are countless other mages who have worked with Dalaran in this city. I beg you to stop asking me, and go find someone else instead.”

Briyanthe barely has the time to finish her sentence and to move toward the door that Gru’ze answers her coldly.

“I will stop askin’, when ya stop hidin’. Ya do not tell me everythin’,” the troll straightens his back for a second, crossing his arms. “If ya brother is not available, okay, I leave ya brother and ya alone. But maybe he can tell me who else I could ask for, hm? Mages are not easy to talk to in dis city. Do ya tell him about meetin’ me, like I ask?”

“Ah,” the priestess scoffs, looking at him with disdain as he takes a step forward and, surprisingly, makes the troll take a step backward. “Now that is preposterous. Do I owe you, a stranger, all the intimate details of my family’s current situation?” Plus, it’s not as if these details weren’t widely known in Sin’dorei society. It would just take Gru’ze to ask literally any other member of the nobility to know why it’s impossible to contact Landoran. Enough people know all the details already.

The troll stares at the potted plant next to the entrance, staying still as if thinking of what he was going to say next. He doesn’t have the time to find his answer, however, as Briyanthe keeps talking, her face softening.

“Listen, Mr. Gru’ze, I genuinely feel sorry that my hou—that I am unable to assist with… whatever your intentions with the Kirin Tor are – as long as they are good,” she says, her eyes widening as she finally realizes the troll might have evil things in store for the Kirin Tor. “I also empathize with your struggles to contact higher members of Sin’dorei society,” Briyanthe shakes her head. “Nevertheless, that is all that I can offer you at this time. Sympathy.”

“At this time? Ah! That means I can come back late—”

That was enough to make Briyanthe’s blood boil. She moves behind her door shaking her head.

“No, please just, leave now.”

“But what if—” he begins, blocking the door with his foot.

“No!” Briyanthe screams, trying to push the troll away from her house, having had to put up with the troll’s insistence for far too long already. Once again the troll takes a step back, avoiding the hands of the elf, looking almost terrified.

The sweet, calm voice of another elf comes from right behind him, which makes him jump forward again, only to realize that Briyanthe was still there, and having to take a step sideways, away from both women.

“Is everything okay?” asks this other woman as she looks worriedly from Briyanthe to Gru’ze, clasping her hands in front of her. Her wavy red curls shine beautifully under the lights of the city. “I heard screaming from my shop across the street.” She points to the jewel store, Silvermoon's Thorns.

“Ah, no, please bear this man no mind, Miss Silverthorn,” answers the priestess, now looking with an insistent gaze at the troll. “He was just about to go back to Orgrimmar anyway.”

The troll seems to be about to say something, but he’s interrupted by Eiradrin.
“Oh, good. I got a little bit worried for you, Lady Briyanthe. I’m glad everyone’s okay!” she throws a bright smile at Gru’ze. “I’m sorry, sir.” She shoots a look backward, giggling. “I’d better go back to my book—um. To my work, then! See ya!”

Briyanthe watches the other elf leaving, waving her goodbye. Gru’ze turns to her, finally ready to say what he wanted to say, when she interrupts him too, a very serious look on her face.

“Luck is on your side today that it was only Miss Silverthorn who came, Mr. Gru’ze,” she says, her voice low. “The last people I’ve seen make a scene in this city…” Briyanthe shivers as she remembers seeing these protesters brainwashed into submission by magisters. She knows the argument she has with the troll and people claiming loudly that they don’t agree with their government are two different things, but still, the elf attempts to be as discreet as possible when in Silvermoon’s streets. “Now I’m begging, I don’t want any more trouble with you,” she says, before rolling her eyes. “Just… accept my apologies and move on. Goodbye, Mr. Gru’ze.”

Briyanthe walks back into her home and slams the door. She locks it, and rests her back against the door, sighing with relief that this is finally over. For a minute she stays there, listening to what’s happening outside. She doesn’t hear the troll move, and as such she is unsure if he is still there.

“Well. I’ll come back in two weeks. Maybe ya brother will be dere then,” he eventually says, speaking as if she was still in front of him, the sound of his footstep moving away from the door.

Briyanthe lets out a very audible “Ugh!” that probably echoed all throughout Silvermoon City.