Walking...

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Walking...

Postby Calisar on Fri Sep 18, 2015 4:02 pm

Something from the wilderness ;)

Her feet ache. The narrow lane curves discreetly between the fields of waist-high golden wheat. Winding between low tumbling hedgerows on either side, branches dotted here and there with the echoes of life, faded knots of ivy flowers, abandoned nests, signs of a long hot summer withering soon down into autumn.

The air is oppressively dry and still, laying like a constant weight upon the shoulder whilst insects buzz and chatter a low melody all around. Occasionally a hawk circles above, screaming a piercing 'keee-aaaar' as it drifts, lonely king of the deep blue sky.

It's a good ache. Step after endless step she has wandered onwards, clambering up over bare rocky hills and descending through numerous forested valleys. And just now, her meandering pilgrimage is leading her past a ramshackle farm. One of many in this strangely managed landscape of unnatural neat rows and square cut fields.

Too ordered, too tame, immensely foreign to the eye of a kaldorei. So much more distracting and interesting than the quiet rest of Darkshore she had -said- she was retreating to.

A gnarled wooden staff balances on her shoulder, swaying like a see-saw with each dusty step. Unfinished carvings weave together across the surface, names and symbols plaited together, a work in progress, an intricate pattern added to each night by firelight. Each name and mark carved with care, as if trying to trap memories into the grain of the wood by one not too trusting their own mind.

A dark cotton hood is flicked up to shield her pale skin from the rude sun, but still her complexion has grown darker, coarser. A few grey hairs now mingle with the blue/black mane she ties roughly back, out of the way. Often an evening has passed in contemplation of the sharp edge of her dagger, so tempting it is to just hack and sever the long locks away.

Her gait is slow, ambling like a vagrant along the path, as if strolling through a glade or promenading across the bridges of Darnassus on a fine starlit evening. There's no rush of purpose, no weight of duty. For the first time in many years, she has not been employed to serve someone in some way.

"The council has agreed... you are to be stripped of your title as Ambassador"

She smiles, shaking off a memory... lifting a hand instead to wave and greet the farmhands dotted in the distance. They pause, wiping the sweat from their sunbaked brows to watch her warily. Strangers travel through here so rarely. Scythes and hooks held mid-swing they shout a question, a greeting. An invitation to join them dies in their throat as a large shaggy head rears above the corn. A black worg with bright eyes appears next to the stranger, tongue lolling from a jaw heavy with long sharp teeth.

The humans glance at each other with a flash of concern, a shared thought for their livestock, they grip the handles of their blades a little tighter, but the elf turns aside, seemingly amused or resigned to their reaction, vanishing once more along the path. The beast lingers a moment, maintaining a level stare of curiosity before turning too, as if commanded silently to follow.

Their precious cattle and sheep will be gathered up safely into the barn tonight, someone with a loaded gun left to watch... just in case.

In the evening, by a scratched together campfire, the elf sits cross legged, leaning comfortably against the flank of the slumbering worg. She tilts her shoe around frowning at the way the sole has torn loose again. Punching a needle through the tough leather she finds tranquillity in the simple task of manually mending something. With a slip of her hand the needle scrapes her palm causing a sharp intake of breath, a brief curse escapes as she angles the broken skin towards the firelight to assess the damage.

The worg lifts his head from his broad paws, it's the first word she has uttered in days.

It's nothing, a thin sharp scratch is all. For a long moment she studies the swollen line on her skin, at the single drop of blood trickling down over her wrist. She has lived for close to a thousand years, but never has she regarded the cradle of her palm with such a thoughtful intensity.

An easy fix perhaps... for some...

The worg peers at her, whining low a 'hrrrrrl?' as if admonishing gently. The elf smirks after a time, brought back to her senses. Casting around she scoops up a cold cup, the dregs of a herbal tea serve as a soothing wash, a scrap of cloth works well enough for a bandage.

Biting off the end of the thread she pulls the completed shoe back on, flexing her foot, wondering how long the stitching will last this time. Drawing the cloak around herself, hands curled together against her chest, she leans back against the shaggy beast. Glad for Bael's unquestioning patience, his warm fur, the safety offered by his presence.

Tonight the dreams would come again no doubt, vivid and clear at the time but reduced to a vague confusion upon waking. A torrent of sensations impossible to pick apart in the cold light of morning. Casting her gaze up to the stars she calculates her next day's route of departure. East, always East.

Eventually she would reach her destination.
"It's silly wrong.. but vivid right"
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Re: Walking...

Postby Aerandyr on Fri Sep 18, 2015 5:28 pm

Happy to finally see some of your excellent writing again Cali, it's been far too long. I was wondering what Calisar's been up to lately (Not that this answers that much)
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Re: Walking...

Postby Aariam on Wed Sep 23, 2015 9:57 am

Loving it. :D Aariam will most likely send a letter Calisar's way soon IC - although who knows if it ever reaches its destination. ;)
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Re: Walking...

Postby Salirien on Wed Sep 23, 2015 6:52 pm

So glad to see you posting something again, Calisar ^^ Such a lovely read, I could read your stuff for days on end. Such a vivid story, I can only imagine what sort of adventure Cali is on... both within and without.

*grou hug*
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Re: Walking...

Postby Aariam on Thu Sep 24, 2015 8:40 am

*grou hug*
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Re: Walking...

Postby Eluvere on Wed Sep 30, 2015 11:55 pm

Nice to see you around again, Cal :)

I was actually wondering where Calisar would end up, so do keep us posted! (if its not a secret ofcourse!)
Meanwhile hope you are having a blast at Horde <3
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Re: Walking...

Postby Calisar on Fri Oct 30, 2015 5:55 pm

*grou hug!* :D

Can a tiger change her stripes?


===

She fidgeted around, trying to find a comfortable way to sit and lean against the ancient tree. The rough bark felt tough as iron, cracked and twisted, each ridge making itself felt through the back of her soft leather jerkin and dusty travelling cloak. The trunk stretched upwards, almost forever from this perspective, like a foundation pillar to the sky itself. A dozen kaldorei could have encircled the base in praise but still not been able to stretch and join hands around this giant.

It was old, easily the eldest in the grove, towering above the rest when seen from afar. Tilting her head back she wondered how much it had witnessed. The rise and fall of an arrogant Queen, the slaughter of a revered white stag, the sundering of the world by dragonfire? How many thousands of years had it held fast here?

So very old, and strong, and patient. She half smiled, eyes darting up through the branches searchingly. Were you aware of any of the years slipping past? Did any of it matter in the least to you? Maybe we're just fleeting specks on the ground underfoot as you lift your old hands and attention ever to the stars?

Cal hugged her arms around her knees, resting back with a sigh. Finding the rough grooves against her shoulders a little more comforting with each passing moment. She felt hidden amongst the giant's roots where so little of the dappled moonlight was able to filter through.

So very dark, and quiet, and protected.

Bael had been sent away, the Worg following her signal to hunt, to guard. This was no time for his playful inquisitive nature. Stay away awhile friend... just for tonight.

Dipping her head low, chin almost resting on her chest, she cradled her hands together to cover her eyes.

Been a long road to get here... has it been long enough? Flexing her fingertips over her brow, she pushed them onwards searchingly up through her hair, massaging her scalp slowly. Eyes closed in concentration.

You've done this before, reached out, become something more. But back then Shadow was the conduit. The insidious fuel that propelled the magic outwards to roll over and consume the thoughts and will of others.

She shook her head slightly, grimacing. This is exactly like that... no... this is nothing like that... This is something new... or maybe something very very old.

The grove seemed to gradually sharpen into focus beyond her closed eyes, a tapestry of sound and scent. One by one she tried to recognise the threads, picking the pattern apart, holding each rustle and distant howl up to the light of scrutiny.

Damp earth from the rain at dusk, leafmold, decay, moss, wolves passed this way recently, nightjars and owls calling to mark their territory high above, a branch snapping, the familiar wet fur of Bael, a hint of sweet pollen from peacebloom bushes. the cold bite of the north wind, snow is coming, my own heartbeat, the creak and groan of the trees. Like so many old ships...

She tilted her head against the trunk of the tree, shifting around, curling in on herself, pressing one long ear against the bark.

So much vivid life... So much crowding noise...

In the past she would have focused purely on the thrum of heartbeats, the sparks of life and intelligence bright within the forest creatures. Leaping from one terrified mind to another before they burnt out. Stealing sight and sensation, a thrilling hungering hijack of control.

Biting her lip, she trained her concentration on the ancient tree instead. Listening to the rumbling creaks and groans echoing down subtly from the high swaying branches.

You're not trying to control anything, to steal, manipulate or trick... just try to observe... to understand...

Palms flat against the trunk she felt her breathing eventually slow.

Let the noises wash over you... it's alright... what happened before won't happen again here. You've been clean a long time... Just push your senses outwards a little more...

Trust it...


Her grip on the tree tightened as the world seemed to flip, bottoming out, a lurch of vertigo snatching her stomach up into her throat. The ground fell away, revealing a mirror image of the forest underground. A sense of the roots stretching down as far as the tree branches were reaching up high. A hidden network of dizzying complexity, inexplicably vast. Tangled through with dens and burrows hosting a multitude of creatures. Pockets of warm life in the darkness.

Life... Balance... Blood...

She rocked back, gasping for air as if she'd been holding her breath too long. Struck by the new sensations.

There was a strange sound, high and clear. A rip of wild laughter that cut off as soon as she became aware of it. Blinking she wondered if it had come from her own throat. It had sounded almost like a snarl?

Everything.. really -is- connected...

Tilting her head slowly to one side then the other, she pondered upon the possibilities. Her lips forming a slow crooked smile.

Well now... this is... fascinating.
"It's silly wrong.. but vivid right"
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Re: Walking...

Postby Aariam on Fri Oct 30, 2015 6:22 pm

Ooh, what might Cali be up to now? An afternoon spot of tea with a friend needs to happen. ;)

The pace and flow is just amazing, reading your stories is like a massage for the brain. ^^
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Re: Walking...

Postby Eluvere on Fri Oct 30, 2015 6:45 pm

Calisar the druid? ;)
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Re: Walking...

Postby Salirien on Sun Nov 01, 2015 12:20 am

Nice to read your stuff, as always, Calicious! And nice to see that Calisar is still alive and kicking ^^

Tigers might not be able to chagne their stripes, but they can pretend to be... I dunno, majestic giraffes or something. That's what I would do.

... what was my point...?

Whatever, glad to read more of your stuff! *be proddin' ya wit' de stick of moar, mon*
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Re: Walking...

Postby Edradir on Wed Nov 04, 2015 8:00 pm

A very nice read and to see how one experiences the ways of the druid.

*Grabs the stick of moar from Salirien and continues the prodding.*
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Re: Walking...

Postby Calisar on Fri Nov 13, 2015 6:10 pm

*Oi, put those sticks away!* ;)

"It's a different kind of danger"

*For some reason this song stuck fast whilst writing the next snippet

Gravity said that she was sprawled on her back. The ground strangely unsteady, cold and damp. Gravity was amused, the bastard was mocking her.

A low surly growl rumbled in her throat as wakefulness dragged her sluggishly back into the world...

There was a soft roar rising and falling in the distance, a gentle constant murmur filling her ears. Twitching her head blindly to one side she tried to focus on the sound as her scattered senses fired randomly. The movement made her gasp at the brilliant twang of aching muscle in her neck. A pain that flashed down through her shoulders, making her wince with a dull grunt.

...ugh ...Elune... what the -?

The ground beneath her body shifted, Gravity dancing an evil jig over her stomach, lurching everything sideways. Gritty little granules parted cloyingly beneath her fingertips as she dug down, gripping suddenly for balance... felt like sand... exactly like damp cold sand... A small connection sparked in her mind, the roar, it's the Sea... I'm on a beach somewhere...

...a beach? ...how? Last I knew ...I thought ...I was in Darnassus?

Wasn't I?

Aariam's smiling face flickered into view, a fresh memory, looking tired but happy, she had been pleased to see her. Promising tea, promising time to talk, to catch up, but not now... not when the endless duties of being Keeper were releasing her a moment towards bed and rest for a while.

Keeper hm?... out with the old... in with the new... Of course time would march on whilst you were out playing silly games in the forest.

The Reign of Aariam... she crooked a smile... long live the Queen... The Queen of the ever open house and eternal teapot.

Another voice stirred in the memory, Aerandyr had been there too, bemused... darkly amused, his brow arching at her change in armour. The cautiously hopeful intention worn plain for all to see on her back. Bare-feet and simple sturdy leather taking the place of the old decadent blue/black velvet and silk. He seemed to be waiting for the other shoe to drop, for the joke to be completed.

Tssk...


She tried opening her eyes, they felt glued together by sleep, reluctant to work. Blinking back into focus she saw a grey stormy sky overhead, heavy clouds lit underneath by a faint edge of silvery fire. A wintry, damp dawn. The colours all bled out and deathly pale in the wash.

Steady now, no time for spiralling inward, reach outward instead. Deal with wherever you are first... whatever brought you here...

It was cold, that much was certain, seawater had soaked the back of her leather armour, making it shrink and stick uncomfortably. Lifting her head slowly with a groan she flexed her hands and feet, checking each limb warily. Everything seemed to be in place. The ache though... gods.. an indescribable weight and weariness pinned her down.

Each sinew felt torn and stretched, as if it had been butchered into something new then snapped rudely back into place.

Which, in a way, it had...

Rolling over to kneel upright she brushed her matted wet hair aside. Unable to stop the automatic motion of shivering, some practical primal part of her body defensively trying to warm up.

She could feel the sting of the wind whipping up grains of sand. A blustery cold turmoil to the air heralding a storm to come. Birds were pin-wheeling through the overcast sky, riding the buffeting currents with screeches and caws, watching her with hungry attentiveness.

Damn fool idea to travel around bare foot, Aerandyr was onto something...

Only the seagulls heard her swearing through chattering teeth as she stood. Her motions as stiff and slow as a creaking Ancient. With a vitriolic mutter she rubbed the back of her neck, trying to loosen the knotted muscles.

Alright... -where- am I?

Shuffling across the beach sinews twanged in the back of her legs. Ones she did not even realise she had until now. She was minutely aware of every muscle, each screaming for payment, the bill overdue from the night before.

She peered blearily upwards searching for the world's largest landmark. The giant form of the great tree Teldrassil loomed reassuringly, but surprisingly far away. A darker patch of grey amongst the pale distant mist. Squinting she could see the giant reaching upwards into the cloud bank. It must be miles away.

Darkshore... I'm far to the north of Darkshore.

I must have travelled all night... at some speed?


The sharp sting of chill breeze, the damp cling of wet leather, the burning ache in each joint and muscle. As powerful as each disorientating sensation was, everything still felt as washed out as the muted colours of the beach. As if something was missing. Everything felt... less.

Less than the night before, when sound and sight had been sharp, where smells had hung in the air like vivid trails begging to be explored. When tastes had been marvellously complex, layered and informative. There had been a confidence she'd not felt before in being a part of the forest, really being a part of it, not some Shadow bound spectator. Forcibly stealing glimpses here and there.

It would be a long walk back, offering a long time to think.

With a huff of weary pained breath she shook her head, slowly picking a path south. Brushing a sand caked forearm across her chin. Wondering at the tang of Iron on her tongue, at the dark blood caked around the corners of her mouth.
"It's silly wrong.. but vivid right"
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Re: Walking...

Postby Aariam on Fri Nov 13, 2015 7:02 pm

The Queen approves. ;)

I don't know what else to say than "more, more, more". As long as you keep them coming, I will keep on reading them with joy. :)
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Re: Walking...

Postby Calisar on Mon Jan 25, 2016 7:41 pm

The dust lay like a thin grey veil, a subtle funeral shroud cast softly across every surface. There was an undisturbed stillness to the air, echoes of a happy past muted and muffled by every cloying mote. Ghosts of shared laughter and love whispered beyond reach, moments never to be re-captured. A devastated heart was here on display, tangible in the heavy silence.

Aariam's home...

Cal rubbed the flat of her hand across the table, swiping a firm path through the cloak of dust. Taking a deep breath she blew the debris aside, revealing the rich wood grain pattern beneath. Aariam's table, surrounded by a tumble of chairs, she frowned remembering how this piece of furniture had been a welcome beacon for many over the years, herself included. You need somewhere to go? go there, there's always a kettle on, a welcome smile. Usually an interesting crowd of people gathered around her old tabletop...

But not lately apparently... not since Menori's death.

She'd found the Keeper standing outside, regarding the door with a wary unease as if hypnotised. How long had she been standing there transfixed?

Feet rooted on the pathway, standing stock still, Aariam had kept her arms folded, eyes fixed on the home she had shared with her beloved. So distracted by painful memories that Cal had been able to creep up on her until they stood shoulder to shoulder, regarding the building in silence together.

Gently, with a little humour, a little persuasion, Cal had cajoled the Keeper to just step inside. To blow off the dust, to make some tea, to sit for a while in conversation.

For tea... soothes all things.

And... well... there were things that needed to be said.

Her hands cradled now around the half drunk cup, peering into the dark depths of the stale brew, Cal pondered her true reasons for coming here. Are you sure this is the right thing to do?

She shook her head, ignoring the constant inner hissed nag of doubt, peering over the rim of the cup, lifting her chin to regard Aariam levelly. Willing the worry to subside, to relent for now.

"You're right, I -was- looking for you" she fixed a smile to the dark haired Keeper, her voice gentle, carefully controlled. "I wanted to know if there had been any more attacks on the Order.. on our colours?...

-Our- colours... a verbal slip, the sense of belonging was still within her somewhere then apparently, stubbornly buried deep... a blood-deep kick of pride when contemplating the old purple white and black. It had sung out when Aerandyr had spoken a few nights before, of the recent threats to the Order. How it had keened when Glendriel had spoken haltingly of losing her way.

"I wanted to ask.. if there was anything I could do?"

A tentative overdue question, but the intent was clear, declared between them at last. Can I...could I... come back?

For a moment the hissed doubt nagged again as she awaited Aariam's response, is there anything you -can- do? A knot of doubt writhed in her stomach as Cal took a slow sip of the tea. flexing her fingers around the cup to stop them from trembling. Better to go back on the road... Better to travel alone... tssk... fool, you were doing so well without any of this distraction or danger. You don't need it, an unnecessary risk... and not just to yourself... Now is not the time for this...

Aariam was speaking and Cal blinked back the distraction with a hint of annoyance. Taking a breath and with a gulp of the tea she refocused on the conversation. This was important, this needed to go well... so much hinged on the good grace of the one sat opposite her, the one regarding her with a shrewd gaze.

This is a mistake and you damn well know it...

The Keeper's expression was grave, issuing a warning now. An honest statement of how things would be if Cal really were to be accepted back into the ranks.

"Shadow is absolutely not permitted, any trace and you will be out, you understand?" Her voice brooked no doubt, this was the rule, and it -would- be enforced. There had been too much damage done in the past, too much mayhem for any wavering on this point.

Cal grimaced, the corners of her mouth arching downwards at the inevitable turn of conversation. She tilted her head with a slow nod of understanding. This was a rule that should have been enforced a long, long time ago. Things would have been... simpler perhaps back then if it had.

She hid her distraction behind the brim of the cup, as a vivid memory flashed of Aariam tortured, controlled by Shadow, reeling about with a weapon in her hand to lash out wildly at her companions. Of her face turning to Calisar's in shock and pain, in accusation, as the casual entertainment of that manipulation lifted. A veil parted... an unforgivable line crossed between the two.

Don't you dare think they will have forgotten all that... Don't fool yourself for a second...

Looking down into the dregs of the cup, Cal nodded along to her inner voice and to Aariam's as she underlined the rules, clarifying them absolutely. This inner doubt had been a constant companion on the road, the fear of slipping back into old habits, of using old skills. Her shoulders sagged slightly, her voice dropping low "I understand.. if I falter.. I will leave"

Doubt and trepidation whispered through her mind like a chill breeze, but her recent training rose in defence at last, quashing it with an impatient feral snarl. Balance... Balance in all things... you -can- do this... Give yourself a damn chance...

Closing her eyes a moment, stilling as she found balance, Cal smiled with genuine gratitude. "Starting again from scratch, as an initiate feels.. right somehow. I need to earn my place.. your trust"

Both women smiled, a wary coming home...

The deal was made, an agreement brokered over the simple act of sharing of tea.

"Let me see your leaves, when you're finished hm?" Cal nodded over to Aariam's drink. Diverting the conversation away to more entertaining ground for both their sakes. The Keeper grinned easily, handing over her cup. Watching idly as Cal swirled the contents around, muttering under her breath the litany taught long ago by her aunt, angling the cup to each point of the compass. Asking the fates for a clue to the future.

Cal's brow creased, gesturing to the sodden little piles of leaves. "I... see a line, here... a blade.. It's a spear... The handle here is unbroken, a strong weapon, a good sign hm? Could mean many things?"

Aariam leant forward, arching a brow at the sign. "Of battle, of wars to come?"

"Perhaps.. perhaps." Cal mused, voice low "Could be it just means direction.. or decisiveness, could mean many things in truth.." she smiled turning to her own cup. Tilting it around for Aariam to inspect. "Here.. the sign I have seen lately is a circle."

Aariam pondered, leaning forward to inspect the portentous little leaves.

Cal arched a brow, a slow smirk on her lips.. "and what would you read from that?"

The Keeper frowned thoughtfully "The moon maybe... the sun? Or a circle completed, a path back to the beginning?"

A look passed between them, "I think" Cal paused, turning the cup back to herself, regarding the leaves with something akin to hope, "I think I'd like that..."
"It's silly wrong.. but vivid right"
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Re: Walking...

Postby Aariam on Tue Jan 26, 2016 2:35 pm

Reading your stories is like eating a burger; it goes down so easy, and it feels great! :D

Loved doing the RP as well - here's to many more!
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