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| Details |
| Author: | Disknight |
| Summary: | Velrin goes to visit Dane and drop off a gift for Lila. The two chat for a bit about what they've been up to. |
| Rating: | T for Teen |
Velrin slinks about the Eastvale logging camp holding a wrapped package. She waves to the people around and asks after where she might find Dane. Eventually she makes her way to where he's at now near the stables.
It's early evening in Eastvale when Velrin arrives. Lumberjacks are finishing up counting the last of their quotas. Even though it's not her first visit, a number of the laborers turn to peer at her. Their curiosity is obvious, but friendly.
She's informed by one that Atley's at the stable.
Velrin walks up to Dane silently, more out of habit than anything, but still. "Sir Dane?"
Atley can be found where indicated. He lightly trots in a slow, controlled circle atop a horse that looks unique when compared to its stabled fellows — a black steed, with a white star on its forehead, and a single white sock. He glances over at the sound of a voice and pulls the beauty to a stop. He turns to her and growls fondly. "Watcher. Well met."
Velrin grins at Dane using her new title, "It's good to see you. Looks like you've made a new friend." Velrin nods to the horse.
Atley leans down to give the horse a few firm pats. "This is Lyra. A Kul Tirasian. Quite the prize. She'll be Karson's and Lila's soon. Wot' brings you about?"
[Velrin]: She's quite the strong looking girl. *Vel smiles* But I mostly just came to check up on you and your family. I heard your daughter was born not long ago. Congratulations. I'm really jealous. *Vel giggles, still holding the package.*
Atley scoffs with amusement. "Ought to hear pair of lungs she has 'fore you set your heart to jealousy." he protests fondly. He smoothly dismounts from Lyra and takes the reins, marching up to Velrin, extending a hand. "Care to feed her an apple? She's bloody mercenary."
Velrin smirks, "I was about to say you should try Shalla'tal, but he's actually really gentle with people." Vel takes an apple and offers it up to the horse while she speaks softly to it in Darnassian.
Atley swiftly but smoothly leans over to remove the bit from Lyra's mouth. The ebony steed leans forward and sniffs at the extended hand before she chomps down on the apple with rows of strong teeth. Her tail swishes behind her.
[Atley]: Watchers been putting you to work, I warrant?
Atley raises a hand to firmly pet Lyra as she snacks before he goes about undoing her saddle, undoing clasps.
[Velrin]: Mhmm. I was able to get a small break to see the play happening in Stormwind, so I'm hoping to enjoy that.
Atley frowns and raises his head, glancing over at her before he grunts. "Aye. The play. I warrant we won't make it to that — Another time." He lifts the saddle off of Lyra with ease and tucks it over his shoulder. Lyra stamps lightly, breath steaming in the frigid air before he canters off to join other grazing horses. "How's the umbra crescent serving you?" he asks, marching off to the stable.
[Velrin]: Very well! Thank you. It's been a bit of a journey learning to use it, but I've taken to it quite well I think. My mother never got the chance to teach me anything other than daggers and the bow, so it's been a learning experience.
Atley tilts his head in a craned nod as he starts to hang up equipment. "A strangely designed weapon, I'll say. Nothing like my folk have ever used, but it must have its merits to be carried by the Watchers."
Velrin 's teeth chatter a little from the cold, "Indeed. I'm growing to like it quite a bit. It's helpful having a larger weapon I'm finding. I suppose I was good enough without them before that I'm only now noticing." She chuckles. She glances back at Lyra and smiles somewhat nostalgically.
Lyra gracefully fraternizes with some other horses, neighing mutedly.
Atley glances over his shoulder and catches Velrin, looking to Lyra himself before he nods to his house on the hill. "You've an eye for them?" he asks.
[Velrin]: No, I just… She reminds me a little of my old horse.
[Velrin]: She's a lovely black color just like he was.
Atley grunts. "Sounds fine. Lyra's a Tirasian, I'm grateful to have her about here. You don't see many anymore, not about here."
[Velrin]: Mine was a mustang from the Highlands.
Atley grunts with approval. "Spirited, then. I used to watch the wild ones roam when I was a lad." He turns to unlock the door before he pauses. "The lot of them are asleep, but we'll be no trouble."
Atley steps inside and holds the door open for her.
Velrin steps inside, visibly relieved at the warmth.
Atley eyes her up and down as he shuts away the warmth. "Toss another log on that fire, will you. You fly here?"
[Velrin]: No, I rode in from Stormwind.
Atley grunts and marches over to a keg with mugs scattered around it. "Care for an ale?"
Velrin goes and sets another log on the fire, "Mmmm… why not." She says after mulling it over a moment.
Atley fills two mugs and offers her one. "Stormwind's a ride in this cold. I can draw you up a bed here, but I warn you, you'll not get a full night's sleep." he warns with amusement.
Velrin takes the mug and sips it, making a bit of a face, "Maybe… Nylarria is in the city now and I don't think she likes it very much."
Atley grunts. "Wot' doesn't she like." He sips from his own tankard and nods over to some chairs around the table.
[Velrin]: Lots of people she doesn't know. And humans at that. She doesn't know what to expect from how they'll react to her. *Vel sits down across from Dane and sets the package on the table.*
Atley grunts. "Stormwind's a fine city. Bit busy, as well." He inclines his head to the package and watches, taking another slow pull.
[Velrin]: O-oh, this is for your daughter. I wanted to get her something.
Atley fosters a brief, but genuine smile and inclines his head. "You spoil my children, Velrin," he chides with a feigned growl.
[Velrin]: What's the point in having children if not to spoil them rotten. *Vel giggles.*
Atley grunts and sits up to peer at the present. "Let's have a look."
Atley sets his tankard down and pulls the package closer. He pries at the wrapping paper to expose what's within, bushy brow lifted.
Inside of the package there is a small toy bow with an equally small quiver filled with arrows. Alongside it is a large plush nightsaber.
Atley growls fondly and reaches for the arrows first. He tests the bowstring with a gloved finger. "You'll make an archer out of her." Atley says before he sets the weaponry aside and takes up the nightsaber. "Karson lives by that bloody hippogryph. The rest've found quite a sanctuary in his crib, away from that mangy hound."
Velrin giggles at the thought, "I'm glad to hear he likes them. I have a whole collection at home too. It's nice having a place to keep them all now." Vel props the saber up onto its feet, "But I felt I ought to make sure your daughter is being raised right, as a warrior." She winks.
Atley grunts and nods. "No child of mine will be afraid of any weapon or steed." He turns to take up his tankard and offers to clink it against Velrin. "Thank you. I'm off in the morning for Deepholm, but p'raps you can return to have a look at her when she's awake."
Velrin clinks her mug against Dane's, "I'd like that. I'm sure she's adorable."
Atley grunts. "She's like a little flower of ours. Makes Karson look properly beastly in size. His belly's not slowed, either. Bloody heavy, that one. Like a sack of bricks."
Velrin snickers, "I take it that means he's got no troubles growing big and strong."
Atley grunts. "Not lately." He takes another pull from the tankard and looks to her. "And you. Warrant you're at peace with your devotion to the Watchers?"
Velrin nods slowly, "I'd say so. I like the work. Sleuthing around hunting down to kill or capture those that would threaten Azeroth." She flashes a fanged smile, "Lots of satyrs, warlocks, the occasional rogue demon, but mostly the Twilight's Hammer."
Atley grunts. "Must make the work faster, traveling alone. Where are you finding the Twilight's most?"
[Velrin]: Not quite alone. I take Nylarria with me. She's a great help. It's like having a second set of limbs I didn't know I was missing. But the Twilight's Hammer is everywhere I'm afraid to say. Hyjal, Ashenvale, Felwood, Darkshore… They're eager to find a new foothold after we defeated them months ago.
Atley grunts distastefully. He takes another sip. "Right. They've made their way into Deepholm. A Legion's worth, at least, but we've taken to carving them. They've spoiled the reputation of mortals among the Stone Lords there, and we've been at work separating ourselves from those madmen in the eyes of the old ones. It's not been without its trouble. I was punted last week." Another sip.
Velrin winces, "I can't say I'm surprised. Once you get that old it's probably hard to see the difference. I know I don't see humans quite the same anymore even if I haven't gotten that bad yet. Hopefully I can always stay sympathetic…"
[Velrin]: I know minn'da was really wary when she first heard about humans. She wanted to kill all of them.
Atley grunts. "Minn'da?"
[Velrin]: O-oh, my mother.
Atley nods slowly. "Right. We've had our issues coming together, but it's been gone well in my eyes."
Velrin nods, "I think so too. We just get very protective of our forests, that's all. I think she'd have softened up eventually." Vel grips her mug tighter.
Atley grunts. "Had that impressed upon me with our work in Hyjal." He nods slowly, peering at her for a moment, before bluntly inquiring. "Was she among the ones lost when our folk first made contact?"
[Velrin]: She… died fighting the Legion in Felwood. I'm not sure she ever properly met a human…
Atley grunts and goes quiet for a moment to let that sit. "We've our differences, but we share in the things that matter. Defense of home and country. Valor. Ferocity. We've the same enemies, as well." He raises his drink out of respect.
Velrin nods silently and takes another sip herself.
[Atley]: It gladdens me to know you're running about butchering the curs. We owe the lot of them quite a debt.
[Velrin]: That we do. Fortunately they don't stand a chance, right? *Vel forces back on a confident expression*
Atley scoffs with amusement and growls fondly. "Bloody right. You'd think they'd have learned from the Cult of the Damned that all that awaits them is pain and death. Their numbers run thin with each day."
[Velrin]: Indeed. Perhaps if I manage to round up enough of them I'll find myself a warden sooner than not.
Atley takes another sip from his tankard and grunts. "When do you wager that'll be? Wot's the timetable?"
[Velrin]: It's hard to say… The order is currently being rebuilt but I'm still very young even if I have made a name for myself. *she shrugs* All I can do is work as hard as I can and pray I suppose.
Atley grunts. "In good time, then. You'll have no shortage of work to prove yourself with in the coming months."
Velrin nods and smiles a little, "Perhaps with a position like that I'll have enough discretion to be able to return to the fold in proper with Cobalt Company."
Atley cranes his head in a nod. "Adding a Warden to our ranks would be welcome indeed. There's still a place for you among us."
Velrin smiles.
[Velrin]: I suppose I'll just have to figure out where to fit in becoming a mother into all of that.
Atley lets out a lionlike yawn, all but detaching his jaw. He grunts at her and nods vaguely upwards. "That's something Ivri's had to deal with. She's meant for this." he says, nodding around. "Motherhood. Family. Fits her like a glove." He glances down at Velrin's blades. "She's meant for that, too, and she's of no mind to choose between the two. It can be the same for you."
[Velrin]: I suppose that's true, but… *Velrin's eyes get very sad but she stops it from spreading to her face.* Nevermind… I'm sure she'll find a way to balance it.
Atley grunts at her. "Speak your mind."
[Velrin]: N-no, it's fine. I'm just thinking too much. *she glances around nervously.*
Atley peers at her for a moment. He quietly sets the tankard down and glances around. "I held off on this life with her for some time… out of fear." He nods slowly. "It was wasteful of our time together."
[Atley]: Fear is another enemy, Velrin. Run the bastard through. Always.
[Velrin]: I… *Vel protests, defeated. She slumps her shoulders and her ears droop.* Just… even if she wants to do both, she won't be as young as she once was by the time your little ones are grown…
Atley grunts. "Fit enough, you mean."
Velrin glances away, eyes looking a bit shameful and sad, "I've just… I've seen it before…"
Atley grunts. "Ivri's no ordinary woman. Even still, she's still well away from her thirties to get back to proper sword work. Lila will be our last for some time."
[Velrin]: I-I see… *Velrin relaxes a little.*
[Atley]: Sir Anduin Lothar was fifthy eight years old when he stormed the Blackrock, and even then he was as mighty as most greenskins. It's a choice, except for her, it isn't. As I said, she was meant for it. She's not ready to grow soft.
[Velrin]: Ok. I'm sorry. I just get a bit sad thinking about that sort of thing. Sorry…
Atley waves a hand. "Your concerns aren't entirely unbased, but I'll be grateful that you don't bring this up around her. Giving birth is strenuous."
[Velrin]: R-right… I just don't want to upset any of you.
Atley grunts and regards her for a moment. "P'raps you've been dealing with some strenuous work yourself. I asked you to speak your mind, and you did." he reassures her firmly.
[Velrin]: Thank you for letting me always be honest with you. *she says softly*
Atley grunts. "I cannot swear that I'll always enjoy your honesty but to live another way is cowardly."
Velrin nods and keeps sipping her drink.
[Atley]: I meant wot' I said about you staying the night, but I warrant you're wise in wanting to stay near to your … companion in the city.
Velrin smiles ruefully, "I'd love to stay, really, but Nylarria gets tense when she's around lots of other people, even if she'd never say so. I-I don't want to impose by asking if she can stay too…"
Atley grunts. "I won't have her or her kind in Eastvale, or any death knights for that matter. This is a peaceful, proper place."
[Velrin]: I… understand… *she says almost with a sigh* She's really quite gentle, though. She has a garden back at home. She loves growing flowers.
Atley inclines his head and finishes off his tankard. "I'm certain she's a fine ally in the field. It's —" he lets out a heavy sigh. "Useful to have her sort on our side in these times."
Velrin gets quiet and keeps sipping her ale.
Atley eyes Velrin for a moment. "You haven't thought of taking the same process she has, have you?"
[Velrin]: No! Not at all! *Velrin blurts out, quickly taking a moment to collect herself.* Just… not long ago I would have felt the same way as you. But as I've gotten to know her better, I… I don't know anymore…
Atley inhales slowly. "I spoke with one. Sparred with one, at the Argent Crusade Tournament. They're fel, but they're still alive, if tormented. Just remember wot' she's made of, Velrin."
[Velrin]: I'm connected to her, I'm quite aware. *she shivers*
[Atley]: Wot' I mean to say is have a care. For however wretched they are, none of them have seemed witless.
[Velrin]: It's not a life to be taken on lightly… *Velrin seems to be growing tense.*
Atley grunts. "No." He glances at her with ale with some gruff, and slightly sadistic amusement. "Don't have a taste for it, mm?"
[Velrin]: I never cared much for this drink. I learned to drink it with my comrades from the Highlands, but I've hardly had any since then.
Atley grunts. "I know it's not typically sought after by night elves. You ought've seen me force human liquor on Caspis. He took it well, but he's no love for it either."
Velrin smiles a little, but her eyes are still a bit distant, "No, I can't imagine he would. Ale is the worst, though. It's so bitter."
Atley peers into his empty mug. "I haven't drank heavily since Karson came about. P'raps in time."
[Velrin]: In time you'll quit or in time you'll start again? *she asks genuinely*
Atley grunts. "Start again. I've to say I haven't always balanced it well, but there've been stretches of time where I haven't felt the urge. Like now."
[Velrin]: Mmm. *Vel nods* It's a bad habit for many.
Atley yawns again, raising a gloved fist to his lips. "Time for me to turn in. Thank you, once again, for the gifts. They're gratefully accepted."
[Velrin]: You're welcome. *Velrin stands and bows slightly* Sleep well.
Atley pushes himself up, chair creaking. He takes in her bow for a moment before he returns it. "Travel well, and stay bundled out there. This isn't Ashenvale," he teases lightly with a growl.
[Velrin]: I'll do that. *She smiles.*