![](http://cobalt-company.wdfiles.com/local--resized-images/writing:2025-08-27-and-then-it-rained/style="margin:/medium.jpg) |
| Details |
| Author: | Aly |
| Summary: | Ralaea meets Sir Atley on a bridge in Paw'don. The two of them discuss the Squads' current situation, and talk about themselves. And then a certain fiancé comes up… |
| Rating: | T for Teen |
Atley scribbles away on parchment, using a corner of his helmet as a paper weight. He occasionally raises his gaze and looks up, squinting over the ocean before he returns to his writing.
Ralaea is walking along the bridge, eyeing the airship hovering nearby, when she spots him. Faint surprise lights her face. "What are you writing?"
Atley raises his gaze and spins around, perhaps faster than he normally would, given the circumstances. "A report of our dealings here." He studies her. "How's the day?"
Ralaea shrugs. "It's okay I guess. Quiet for now. So you got promoted, right? Congratulations."
Atley inclines his head. "Thank you." He glances past her, and to the keep in the far distance before looking back. "Wot' do you make of this place?" He sets the simple pencil down, letting roll to a stop, 'clinking' against his helmet on the ledge.
[Ralaea]: You mean the locals, the scenery, or the 'turn into a monster for feeling things' part?
Atley scoffs with amusement and leans sidelong against the ledge, folding his arms. "All of it."
Ralaea shrugs. "Pandaren seem nice enough. That one, uhh… you know the big one with the hat? He carries himself well. It's pretty here, for now. And the monster part… I plan to fight them as I see them."
Atley grunts and nods slowly. He shifts his gaze away from her to study the orchard's blossoms. "Been sleeping well?"
[Ralaea]: Well enough. You?
Atley nods. "Well enough," he repeats. "Though.. The monsters have been on my mind as well. Did you meet any of the newcoming pandaren before we deployed? The Gui Wei, of the Tushui?"
[Ralaea]: Meet them? No. But they're hard to miss, in passing. They're not from here, right? Something about a turtle?
Atley grunts. "A wandering turtle," he says, nodding slowly. "They say it's big enough for a village. Multiple villages." He clicks his tongue and shakes his head. "'Tis a shame we didn't bring any of them along with us. F'course, we couldn't have known this is where we'd land."
[Ralaea]: “I'd like to see it someday, even from a distance.” She glances out at the ocean. “Heck of a first job as Lieutenant huh? Missing person, a land of monsters, the Horde…”
Atley's eyes flash with amusement and he cranes his head in a nod. "Something of the sort, aye. Truth to be told, I enjoy the challenge of it." He grunts and tongues the inside of his cheek. "Still. Much is at stake, but we've a fine group to tackle all this."
[Ralaea]: You do a good job, leading. You wouldn't've come this far if you didn't, but all of us are here together, so don't think you have to deal with the monster part alone. I'm happy to smack any bad thoughts out of you if you have 'em.
Atley takes his gaze off of the Skyfire and eyes her for a moment before he inclines his head. "I'll be grateful, I'm certain," he remarks with a gruff wryness. "I'm counting on you for that. And I'll return the favor."
Atley casually points to the ocean. "I like this spot here. Good view of the bay, the village. I expect to see Admiral Fallon and his reinforcements any day now."
Ralaea smiles. "You'd better." At the mention of the Admiral, she perks up. "What, here? Really?"
Atley grunts and looks back to her. "Aye. They were deployed as well, for the search of the White Pawn, with a small floatilla. They'll be a welcome sight, but we ought to be ready to calm the locals for their arrival."
[Ralaea]: You think they'll end up on the right side of the island? I guess it is Admiral Fallon.
Atley grunts and nods. "'Tis. If anyone can find their way through, it'll be him." He looks back at Ralaea. "You've recently been made a ward, of his House? A steward?"
[Ralaea]: I don't know that it's exactly recent anymore, but yeah. They're basically family now.
Atley cranes his head. "Past year or two, wunnit'?" As the clouds shift over head, he shifts his helmet aside and starts rolling up the paper he was working on.
[Ralaea]: Yeah. We met originally because the Admiral knew my uncle. The one who… a dreadlord decided to impersonate to manipulate the Scarlets in Northrend.
Atley nods slowly, and his look darkens. "Westwind. T'was Mal'ganis, mm? Did you know the man well…?" Atley asks with a small shake of his head. "Before the Scarlet Crusade?"
Ralaea shakes her head. "No, not… really…" She looks up as it starts to rain.
Atley looks up as well and reaches for his helmet. "Ought to seek shelter. I've a mind to see the inner workings of that tower. Care to join me?"
[Ralaea]: Sure. I don't mind the rain, but you probably want to keep that report dry.
Atley grunts.
[Atley]: I came across a local. Chatty. Cheeky. 'Peixin.' She said all their villages are this ornate.
[Ralaea]: And red?
Atley grunts.
[Atley]: She said this was an ordinary village.
Atley stomps off his boots off on the steps outside before he marches into the tower, raising his gaze.
[Ralaea]: Kind of night elf-y, minus the brighter colors.
Atley grunts. "Sharp eye. The architecture, aye. Let's go up, have a look about."
Ralaea nods.
Elder Daelo irritably peeks one eye open to glare at Atley before he resumes his meditation.
Atley marches underneath the bell and looks up into it. "I'd think this was a sentry tower, but it's hard to believe they'd make it so ornate. This look'd be at home in a temple."
[Ralaea]: How do they even ring it? I guess if you throw something heavy…
Atley grunts and steps forward to examine it. "S'possible they've not had to. Not for some time. War's a distant memory to this people, if even that."
[Ralaea]: What about those weird statues in the… stronghold-or-temple the Horde set up in?
Atley grunts and glances back at her before he starts making his way higher up the tower. "Wot' are your thoughts on them?"
[Ralaea]: They seemed… like displays of power. Did you see the ones that looked like they were holding up the upper levels?
Atley looks out into the rain, thumbs cinched his belt, before he glances back at her. He grunts. "Aye. To be truthful, they reminded me of old trollish architecture, from one of the old empires."
[Atley]: There was an air of dominance about them, like you say.
[Ralaea]: Trolls, huh? I don't know too much about them.
Atley grunts. "They had wide swaths of territory, once, but they've lost their power over the centuries. Our people broke the back of the Amani Empire." he says, lightly gesturing between them.
[Ralaea]: So you think it's the same with those… statue people?
Atley shakes his head. "I cannot say. I can't get much edgewise on them, or much else, from the natives, aside from this Peixin. That keep or temple's got a similar style to these pandaren, but it's … colder. And grand, for a single sentry tower."
[Ralaea]: More displays of power.
Atley grunts, and shifts his gaze back to her — or specifically, her blades.
[Atley]: Where'd you learn your swordwork, Ralaea? I've never asked.
[Ralaea]: Oh, that's… A number of places… and it's still a work in progress.
Atley grunts, and reaches up a hand to affectionately pat Thunderfury's grip. "F'course it is. But you were never army, were you?"
[Ralaea]: Stablehand, originally. The only thing resembling an army was the Scarlet Crusade. And… most of what I learned was taught by Kaela Mondragon, so. Since then it's been a combination of learning as I go, training with my fiance, and, more recently, training with Anareline and a martial trainer in Elwynn.
Atley nods slowly. "Anareline Silvershade. From the Molten Front. She's as fine a trainer as one could ask for, I warrant. A great fighter. I'm close with her … 'mate.' Caspis."
[Ralaea]: I haven't had too many conversations with him, myself.
Atley scoffs with amusement and lowers his gaze before he stares back out into the rain. "He can be a quiet sort. Steady. Bloody old. He'll maintain a presence, but in his mind, he's centuries away. S'hard to grasp, properly."
[Ralaea]: I can't really imagine being that old. I can barely imagine being an old human.
Atley grunts. "I know the feeling. I hadn't known you were engaged. Congratulations."
[Ralaea]: It's not widely advertised. He's a death knight. Most people don't approve, and I won't ask anyone to, because I get it. I'd be the same.
Atley blinks slowly, and stares at her for a time, as if he's questioning if he heard her right. "… Your fiance is a death knight?"
[Ralaea]: Yeah. He died just before the Battle for Light's Hope, and then… came back, I guess.
Atley keeps staring at her and slowly shakes his head. "Why?"
[Ralaea]: Because I couldn't let him go. Because, even though I hated him, wanted to kill him for a while… when I needed him, he was still there.
Atley squints. "You're sharp. You've got grit. You're put together. Why would you waste yourself on a frozen corpse? It'll only hurt you, Ralaea."
[Ralaea]: Maybe. But what in life doesn't hurt me?
Atley frowns with equal parts disappointment and disgust. "You let this thing in close to you… It will learn wot' ways of yours it doesn't know now, and learn how to twist the knife. They're evil. Their only cause to continue is to feed off of pain."
[Atley]: You know this. And you rate better than to waste yourself on one of those monsters.
Ralaea raises her chin in defiance. "Yes. I do know. And if it were anyone but him, I would never let them near me. I tried to kill him. I tried to avoid him. And in the end I couldn't. Maybe that makes me weak, but so be it."
Atley eyes her up and down and slowly crosses his arms over his chest. "Fallon knows about this?"
[Ralaea]: He does. He doesn't exactly approve, but he's at least on good terms with him, as a public supporter of death knights in the Alliance.
Atley nods slowly and sets his jaw. "They have their uses… But I long for the days when the living and the dead were separate. When the dead lay still and noiseless in their graves." He peers into her face for a long moment.
[Atley]: This is a waste, at best. A hazard at worst.
[Ralaea]: It's my hazard to deal with.
Atley sets his jaw and regards her for a time before he grunts. "So it is. You've written off all possibility for a normal life? A love who's warm blooded? Who truly cares for you in any real, tangible way?"
[Ralaea]: If there is a person who is fine with me and him. I'm not holding my breath.
Atley grimaces with open revulsion and looks back out over the coast. "It's madness."
[Ralaea]: So's the world, sometimes. But I don't need anyone's approval. There was a time when I let what others thought get in the way, and it cost me. I'm not letting it happen any more.
Atley nods slowly and tongues the inside of his cheek. "I can tell you won't be moved on this," he begins. "I merely regret the waste and the human wreckage that'll come from this. As someone who's fought beside you for some time… Know that you deserve better." he says, scowling sidelong at her, burly arms still folded.
Ralaea reaches a hand out to the balcony. The rain seems to have quit. "What I deserve is to have my homeland back. To never have lost my parents. For my fiance never to have died. The world doesn't care what I deserve, and neither should you. If you will excuse me." She turns to leave.
Atley watches her before he interjects with a parting comment. "I know you must've been a young girl, when Lordaeron fell. I cannot imagine the torments you endured. I was in the army, and we failed to protect you lot. I'll carry that with me forever. I'd have you look for and believe in a life after that torment, Ralaea. For your own facking sake. And for mine."
Ralaea glances back at him. "There are wars to be fought, and there always will be. Better that a 'waste' like me sees it done than someone with a real chance at a life."
Atley unfolds his arms. "I never thought it was for me either. Marriage, fatherhood. I never thought I deserved it, after the Scourging. P'raps I don't, but I've been blessed with it because I had courage to believe it was possible. My wife instilled that in me, because she's alive. She's human. And she loves. She's not undead."
[Atley]: Only you can decide wot', and whom, you'll spend yourself on.
[Ralaea]: I have made my choice, Lieutenant. It will not affect my duties for the Company. If that was all?
Atley peers for a moment before he inclines his head with a grunt. "I know it won't. And aye. That's all. Carry on well."
Ralaea takes her leave.
Atley turns back to the balcony and shakes his head, marching out.