Large visitor, little city [OPEN][H]

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Sunderstorm
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Large visitor, little city [OPEN][H]

The elven city of Silvermoon had always mesmerised the large taureness. At just over 7" , Sunderstorm always felt very out of place here. The little elves always seemed to be socializing or bustling about, and many times found in groups. With no idea how, it seemed she was always nearly trampling one that appeared before her suddenly.

But even in her fears of trampling somebody, she just had to visit the city every so often. It was beautiful, mesmerising, and just plain breath taking. She did not exactly enjoy so many elves, usually giving her funny looks, or the occasional Troll, Undead, and sometimes even other Shu'halo who were there and seemed to be flirting their ways into trouble. But as a fairly peaceful tauren, Sunderstorm did not mind the smaller creatures, she even tried to give friendly looks once or twice at those who did not appear to be scrutinizing her.

Making her way to a small bench, much to small almost for her size, Sunderstorm sat softly of the bench and began her watch of the chatty little city. She would not stay long, she never did, but it was a change of scenery from the city of Orgrimmar, usually a little cleaner too. As she observed the small elves wondering to and fro, talking to each other and sometimes even seeming to threaten one another, she casually pulls a little drink out of her bag and sips on some Mulgore Firewater.

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Naois motions slowly through the flowing streets of Silvermoon, as cautiously as though he was traversing a river full of thorns. trying to avoid even grazing the passer-byes, even by the slightest. Taking great care, not to drop the box of healing potions that he is holding around his arms. He never likes going to capital cities such as this. They gave off a sense of overwhelming eminencity and power, that he didn't like. From the gold and scarlet spires that seem to touch the sky, to the crowds that migrate to and from parts unknown.

He didn't like it. He would get vertigo, and would send him on the edge of anxiety. Normally he would avoid cities such as these. But, money was low, and this was the closest city that had an auction house. He needed to the gold, so he could buy enough supplies for his cousin, who lives in this very city, the only family he has as far as he knows. Ya, he thought nodding slightly, atleast his cousin is hear, and its clean, that's more than he could for some cities he's ever been in. He is looking forward to visiting his cousin.

Normally one would simply visit the market place, and get the supplies themselves. His cousin how ever was... ill. He couldn't leave his house, in risk of a panic attack from separation. He use to have aid that tend to his needs, but, sadly, she left on vacation and never came back. So it was his responsibility to take care of him on a weakly basis. He has hearthstone that would take him over here. So the responsibility wasn't encroaching on his duties as a healer.

Naois suddenly feels a someone bump against his shoulder. He squeaks, impulsively releasing the box from his hands. It clattered over to the ground right in front of the bench, by the hoofs of its occupant.  Potions rolling out of it. He stepped over to the bench quickly. Brushing his shoulder. "S-Sorry about that." He said, regarding the Tauren with an apologetic bow. "I-I'll clean this u-up, right away. J-Just don't move. I-I'll b-be done before you know it." He bends down, and hastily picking all the bottles of potions, and placing them back in the box. Thankfully they all didn't shatter or spill over. Hopefully he isn't making a spectacle of himself.

((He ya go. Hope you don't mind me jumping in. Feel free to point out any grammatical errors, that I've overlooked. ))

Sunderstorm
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Sunderstorm jumps a little as she collides with the small elf. She looks over the nervous little elf as he frantically  picks up the potions.

She reaches forward trying to help if she can "My apologies, I usually do not come to this city for this very reason.. To large for it." She gently brushes a little dust from the elf that seemed to have come from her armor, trying to calm the elf a little. She cannot help but noticing how jumpy the elf is in this large city. "Perhaps you could benefit from a small drink? You seem in need of something calming" 

Sunderstorm stands up next to the elf, over 7 feet tall. Even for her size, she gives a graceful bow. "I am Sunderstorm Stonehide, and I hope I have not damaged you or your wares." 

 

((Very sorry if I have many typos, using a phone is not the best idea. And any random joining is welcome! I just joined here))

[H]: Tygerlily

Vandrysse
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For once, the undead was glad he was colorblind.

He’d overhead enough conversations amongst blood elves and marked criticism from other races that he suspected Silvermoon – in all of its bright grey glory – to be some garishly colored affair. The streets, with their animated brooms (that annoyed him to no end), were too clean. The arcane sentries made too much noise as they thumped over the pavement. Nothrotes wanted to get this fertilizer delivery over with as soon as possible. The sooner he was back in the gloom of the Undercity, the better off he would be.

It didn’t take long before he came across a somewhat odd scene – a large taureness, seated at a bench, with a rather fragile blood elf hurrying to collect a set of vials he’d apparently dropped.

As a Forsaken, Nothrotes had practiced trying to fit into living society for so long, that some of the habits stuck, and he immediately found himself walking towards the pair, hoping that they wouldn’t be startled by his appearance. The undead man wasn’t necessarily grotesque, as some of his kin were, but his tall, hunched over frame and style of dress made for an intimidating sight. He was bald, for one, exposing the pale skin stretched over his skull, and he wore a spiked mask that covered half of his face, obscuring the lower portion of his face from view. His robes were all shades of sinister darkness, though oddly he had a pink knitted child’s sock pinned onto his left sleeve.

He was just about to ask if the elf needed help when the taureness began assisting with the effort. Nothrotes didn’t dare approach any closer – he was quite aware of how most of the living perceived his kind. So he made a noise that was a good imitation of someone clearing their throat.

“I had it in mind to ask if you needed assistance, but the two of you seem to have this situation under control …”

“The depth of darkness to which you can descend and still live is an exact measure of the height to which you can aspire to reach.”

Sunderstorm
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Sunderstorm looked up as she heard a voice speaking to her and the elf. As she saw the undead before her, her friendly expression did not change much at all. Throughout her many journeys she had grown accustomed to the undead and those who followed Sylvanis. She bowed her head in a hello. "I am afraid I nearly broke this poor elves wares and I believe I may have given him a bit of a scare." She motions to the nervous little elf before her. 

She stands before the undead and bows her head "Thank you for your concern, I am Sunderstorm Stonehide."

[H]: Tygerlily

Jannit
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Character: Daraak Lightseeker

((I'm assuming this is taking place in the Bazaar. If I'm wrong, please let me know and I'll fix as needed. Thanks!))

Arching an eyebrow, the taller of the two men looked down at the other incredulously. “You can’t be serious.”

“What can I tell you? Prices go up! We’re getting more and more people coming through the city with all sorts of gold from who-knows-where. They can pay so I charge more. It’s just business.”

Daraah frowns and rubs a hand over his face. “You should’ve been born a goblin, you know that Parnis?” Sighing he pauses a moment as he does a bit of mental arithmetic. “I’ll give you four gold for the lot. That’s almost an entire gold more than you charged me last month.”

Sucking in a dramatic breath though clenched teeth, the merchant shakes his head. “Four, hey? You know, Daraak, I’d love to go down to four but I’ve got a business to run! Mouths to feed! Lowest I can give it to you is five.”

Daraak grumbles as he fingers the few coins in his pocket. “Four and a half or I go talk to Sathren.”

Grinning at a deal well struck, Parnis holds out his hand. “Done! Don’t say I never did you any favors.”

After a firm shake Daraak hands over the promised gold and shakes his head. “Oh, I don’t think I’ll say you ever did me any favors either.”

With Parnis returning to his shop, Daraak began collecting his assorted items from the Tradesman and carefully packed them into a very well worn backpack that was bulging at the seams.

A few moments later Daraak had the pack firmly secured to his strong back and he stood taking note of the Bazaar. There were the normal sights and sounds of a day in the city. Pomp and grandeur at every turn  that seemed to be the trademark of his kin.  Chuckling as if to an inside joke, he looked down at his attire: worn leather pants with a few too many patches, a shirt that had obviously been washed many times and his thick, heavy work boots.

Returning his attention to the square, his eyes landed on the one rather out of the ordinary sight: A rather frantic looking Sindorei, a Tauren and a Forsaken. Daraak began slowly working his way over towards the trio intending to ensure the rather young looking man wasn’t being harassed by visitors to the city without getting directly involved unless necessary.

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Nothrotes’ voice was a deep, rumbled echo - an amazing thing when you realized he had no functioning lungs. Unlike many Forsaken, who sounded weary with the effort of talking, this one seemed capable of infusing some mirth into his voice.

He could stand at a good six feet and couple of inches when his spine wasn’t twisting into an unnatural shape; still, the lady tauren simply towered over him when she stood up. He bowed in return at the introduction.

“A pleasure to meet you, Miss Stonehide. I am Nothrotes Of-No-Last-Name, at your service.” He hoped she didn’t take him literally and could catch the joke.

He noticed movement – perhaps a flicker of shadow – and turned to the newly arrived blood elf. What a sight this must have made, and surely he and Sunderstorm stood out as culprits for this other elf’s clumsiness.

“Good day to you, sir,” Nothrotes said to the newcomer. “I apologize for this scene, I’m afraid our elven friend here dropped his potions as he was overcome by madam’s beauty and my striking gentlemanly behavior.”

He lacked eyebrows, but managed to waggle the approximate right places anyhow.

“The depth of darkness to which you can descend and still live is an exact measure of the height to which you can aspire to reach.”

Jannit
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Daraak wasn’t what you could call a worldly man. Although his trips into Silvermoon gave him the opportunity to see a fair few Forsaken over the years, he’d had little reason or opportunity to speak to them. The approach of the plague ridden man before him, gave Daraak pause. Standing stark still, he watched the other man until finally; he pulled himself together and gave almost automatic smile at the courteous greeting.  

“Not at all. It just seemed a little out of place with the rest of … uh…” Daraak trailed off and gave a rather indistinct motion to the rest of the Bazaar, “… stuff? I didn’t mean to disturb, I just wanted to make sure everything was alright.” Taking a quick peek over at the other two, Daraak continued to speak in his rather low, measured pace. “Hopefully he didn’t break anything of value.”

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Sunderstorm nodded her head to the newcomer in a polite hello. "I fear my large size in this small city may have gotten in the way and we bumped into one another. But rest assured any damage I will do my best to pay for." She nods her head respectfully before stepping away to have a little more space, not wanting to cause anymore ruckus. Her light fur turns a little darker against her cheeks as she realizes the commotion she has made.

[H]: Tygerlily

Erylyn
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((I figured I should test out my new priest. Besides, looks like you could use a 'proper' elf around here xD))

Illyne Lightseeker staunchly ignored the book hovering a few feet behind her. Every once in a while it would sigh dramatically, disappointed that she didn't pay more attention to the floating handbook. Erylyn, her former mentor and current 'boss', had left the poor elf in charge of the rather tempermental book with nothing mroe than a 'see you in a few weeks'. Illyne had decided that the best course of action would be to pretend it wasn't following her and hope the rest of the populace of the city would as well. She really couldn't imagine the embarassment of having someone of promence notice.

The priestess shifted the small bundle she was carrying to the other arm, sheilding her eyes from the glare of the sun with her free hand. The Bazaar was unusually busy for so early in the day. She shifted, stepping lightly over a puddle and grimacing as the tip of her robe trailed in it.

"Oh, for light's sake, now I'll have to change." She sighed and began to storm off toward the guild hall, pausing as multiple unfimilar and very un-elf like voices floated to her on the wind. She turned toward the group and wrinkled her nose. A forsaken, Tauren, and one elf stood around another who was gathering a few bottles of some sort of potion. She frowned and marched over.

"Is there something wrong here?" She said with a smile, but her tone held a sharp edge.

~~~
[H] - Erylyn, Illyne, and Meyrit.
Battle tag: Erylyn#1857, friendly requests only please.

"Erry Pooh Bear Snookie Wookums" ~ Frostfeathers

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((Two Lightseekers? Long lost cousins, perhaps? Teasing of course. Welcome to the fun!))

Daraak had been just about to return Sunderstorm’s greetings when the sharp voice behind him brought him up short. Turning rather slowly – given the pack on his back – Daraak gave the petite woman a friendly smile.

“There doesn’t appear to be, ma’am. The young man,” Daraak motioned towards Naois, “ seems to have bumped into this lady and dropped his vials from what I can tell.”

Catching sight of the floating book, Daraak seemed to lose his train of thought for a moment. Clearing his throat, he looked back to Illyne. “We seemed to have managed to make our way over just to check what was going on… just as you have now.” The mention of "we" was accompanied by a gesture between Daraak and Nothrotes.

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((Must be popular in the realm of the elves! Perhaps they're cousins, I'm pretty sure Illy may have family she doesn't associate with xP))

The tip's of the elevn lady's ears turned a light pink as the man caught sight of the book. Illyne coughed, attempting to hide her embarassment behind the facade of an afronted shopper. "Unless his vials are broken, I see no reason why this...gathering, couldn't take place elsewhere." She gathered herself up and turned to leave, letting out a soft bark of surprise as the book darted toward her and snapped shut, nearly grabbing an ear in the process.

Illyne jerked back, trying to keep her balance.

~~~
[H] - Erylyn, Illyne, and Meyrit.
Battle tag: Erylyn#1857, friendly requests only please.

"Erry Pooh Bear Snookie Wookums" ~ Frostfeathers

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(Wow alot of stuff is happening since last I post. Sorry if I can't keep up, sometimes I get a little jet lagged.)

Naois shakes his head assuredly. "I-Its al-" He froze when the tauren was about to touch. He shifts away from her, nervously staring at the hand as if it was covered in maggots. Then he jumped away with a yelp, when her hand finally made contact. Dropping the box on the ground, the potions clattering out again. "Ah!" He swats the hand away, A frightened look in his eyes. "D-Don't do that." He said, twitching. He tries to regain his composure. He really need to be out this city, it seems like they were attracting a crowd.

He bends down. Collecting all the bottle with redoubled urgency.

(Sorry if that was short. '^_^)

Jannit
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Instinctively, Daraak reached out to prevent the woman from falling. Chuckling softly, he withdraws his hand gives a small shrug. “Perhaps if the vials had fallen elsewhere it would have, ma’am. As it stands, the Bazaar is generally the place for bumping into people … or books either figuratively or literally depending on the situation.”

Standing with nearly regimental posture, Daraak gives the straps of his pack a tug and readjusts the shifted weight on his back to a more comfortable position. Unsure of what to say, he grows quiet and refocuses his attention on the cleanup effort of the vials nearby.

Erylyn
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Illyne straightened and growled quietly at the book, yelping as it launched forward and attempted to yank her ear again, this time accompanied by it's own growl. She swatted the books away, her fingertips glowing a dark purple, tendrils of the same color snaking out and toward the object of her ire. The book apeared unfazed and snapped at the tendrils.

Illyne jerked back as if stung, the color in her fingers (and at this point, her hair), retreating and her posture changing instantly into a defeated slouch. "I believe I owe you an apology." She turned, staring at her feet in the attempts to hide the brighter blush. "I have horrible manners and of course you may gather where ever you would like." The book growled in what seemed like agreement and a bit of smug satisfaction. It settled back into it's hover a few feet off of the ground. Illyne shot the book a dirty look and risked a glance at the gathered group.

~~~
[H] - Erylyn, Illyne, and Meyrit.
Battle tag: Erylyn#1857, friendly requests only please.

"Erry Pooh Bear Snookie Wookums" ~ Frostfeathers

Vandrysse
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Nothrotes instinctively stepped into the background when Illyne approached, attempting to make himself appear as unobtrusive as a walking dead man could make himself. He found himself rather curious about the nervous elf, though, keeping his undead eye on the man in case he was in need of assistance (though something told him he’d refuse).

He was all too happy to just forget about the delivery he was supposed to make, and return to Silvermoon another day. Or, better yet - hire a courier to deliver the fertilizer instead. Why hadn’t he done that to begin with?

The Forsaken sighed, which was nothing more than habit as he had nothing, really, to sigh with. He wasn’t interested in causing trouble ...

“The depth of darkness to which you can descend and still live is an exact measure of the height to which you can aspire to reach.”

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Sunderstorm jerked her hand back with a start as the elf swatted her hand away. She drew back slowly not wanting to cause his anymore unease, and not wanting any other passers to think she wanted to cause trouble. She had, after all, only come to the city to admire It's beauty. As the new elf joined the fray, she let out a small sigh and retreated back to the far side of the bench, almost wishing she was small enough to not stick out. A tauren blending in, in the city of Silvermoon. What was I thinking? She wondered to herself as she observed the ongoing clutter she had created. She casually rose to her hooves after taking a sip of her drink, preparing to depart from the too tiny city.

[H]: Tygerlily

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Naois' head snap left and right, forgetting about the potions on the ground. Seeing people gathering around the bench, he rolls his shoulders, tilting his head left and right, trying to calm deep breath to keep himself calm. Who were these people? He thought, rubbing his hands together anxiously. "C-Could e-everyone p-please st-step b-back, p-please." He began stutter more than usual. "I-I'll c-clean th-this up a-and b-be on m-my way." He said, squaring his shoulders a bit, trying show some modicum of dignity.

Vandrysse
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Of course, Nothrotes had preemptively obeyed the nervous man’s request. The undead realized his mask hid most facial expressions, but the mask also kept something even worse from public view. Imitating emotional inflections was something he was well rehearsed in: funny, really, when you realized that as a bureaucrat in his living years, he’d honed his voice to such flat precision that a gnome could have landed a flying machine on it.

He sidestepped closer to the tauren woman, and spoke quietly. “Perhaps they are not used to such disruptions in the normal order of their everyday lives. There are other places to sit, madam, and I do hear that the city is truly beautiful, although I cannot see color worth a whit. If the city is tiresome, then perhaps a walk out into the lovely woods?” At the last moment, Nothrotes held back a comment about the Farstriders mistaking her for a target, an insult that would no doubt enrage the rest of their present company.

The Forsaken was either one smooth talker or he really was as benign as his voice projected. Despite the initial appearance, he did not appear to carry anything that could be remotely construed as a weapon, save for the odd tarnished chalice that hung from his belt by an equally tarnished chain, and … the small brown bag in his hands that could have held anything from a dead rat to blueberry muffins. But he never appeared interested in causing trouble with the natives. Even with his hunched over form, there was something submissive about his pose, as if he acknowledged he was the outsider here and was fully prepared and expectant of any kind of abuse.

The undead man arched an empty eyebrow space at Sunderstorm, then shrugged his shoulders in a strangely amiable way.

“The depth of darkness to which you can descend and still live is an exact measure of the height to which you can aspire to reach.”

Sunderstorm
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As Sunderstorm once again observed the bustling city and It's beautiful yet sometimes very strange to her inhabitants, she considered Nothrote's words. The city was indeed lovely, and there were quite a few places in it to visit, but alas, it seemed that there may be a better time to do it. Perhaps when not so many of the elves were so active in it...  Pushing herself off of the bench, trying to be as undisturbing as she could, Sunderstorm turned to Nothrote's.

"I do not know my way around the woods all too well," she admitted with a soft voice. "but a bit of fresh air in a larger environment may be helpful." She dipped her head respectfully to all that had gathered at the spectacle, not even sure they would be calm enough to acknowledge it. Though she was a Warrior, she was also a Tauren, and unless she was severly threatened or on the battlefield, she was almost always kind to new acquaintances. Even after being swatted by one. Perhaps it was her fault for attempting to look gentle in the city with her shiny, but harsh, plate gear and large shield and sword. Next time, she thought to herself, I've got to invest in a tunic or something..  With a slight smirk across her lips at her own thoughts, she turned back to face the Undead.

[H]: Tygerlily

Erylyn
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Illyne yelped loudly as the book took another pass at her ears, she ducked, deftly avoiding the book. It was a move she'd learned all too well, while being under the tutelage of Mistress Az'hari. Apparently the book had absorbed more than just the paladin's sense of humor. "Of for the love of-!" She snapped at the book, and sent another tendril to subdue it. The blackish purple hadow coated the tips of her fingers, ends of each ear and bled into her hair and eyes. "Behave." She turned to the gathered company and frowned, her usual sweet expression now one of annoyance at the floating book.

"You need not leave the city for fresh air and a bit of privacy. If you would permit me to rectify my earlier rudeness by offering you a drink and place to relax in my mistress' guild hall?" She nodded to the far side of the bazaar and a building that stood rather unassumingly, with a healer's sign hanging from it. "We have recently purchased it and currently, I am the only occupant. You would have the freedom to speak privately and relax during your stay in the city this afternoon." Illyne released the book and self-conciously smoothed her hair with a hand. She hated it when her temper got the best of her, but this book was worse than Erylyn in demands.

~~~
[H] - Erylyn, Illyne, and Meyrit.
Battle tag: Erylyn#1857, friendly requests only please.

"Erry Pooh Bear Snookie Wookums" ~ Frostfeathers

Jannit
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Still far enough away from the rather nervous man scrambling around to collect his bottles as to not be a bother, Daraak gave the petite woman a small shrug. “Apology accepted, of course. Too many people gathered in a small space can get on a person’s nerves at times.”

Daraak took a step back as he watched the woman’s reaction to the book. A small crease formed on his brow at the sight of the shadow tendrils. Before she returned her attention to the gathered company, he had resumed a more neutral expression but had managed to take a few small steps back, seemingly to include the other two in the conversation.

“Thank you for the offer, ma’am. Unfortunately, I need to decline at this time. I’ve got a number of provisions and such that I need to get back to the farm before it gets too late.” He gave a strap of his pack a little tug as though for emphasis. “Never too sure what you’re going to find on the roads in the evening, after all.”

With a polite nod to the Forsaken and Tauren, Daraak continues. “I hope the two of you enjoy your visit to the city. It’s not a horrible place to spend a bit of time and if you’re lucky, you even get offered free drinks once in a while!” With a low chuckle at his less-than-funny joke, Daraak glances once again at the man scrambling around on the floor for his vials before smiling at the group.

“I hope you all have a pleasant day.”

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Naois stands back up straight. "Wh-Where i-is the last bottle?" He didn't seem to notice the conversation going on. He twisted around. Looking for the potion on the floor. Hoping that it didn't shatter. That would make it 19 potions. That would be an odd number, therefore an incomplete that would not sell well in the auction house.

(Sorry if I seem lost, and for the this short post. its pretty easy for me to get lost after a lot of posts. I could rewrite this if anyone wants.)

Vandrysse
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He wished Daraak a good day, then Nothrotes bowed at the woman’s offer of hospitality. “That would be most generous of you, m’Lady.” After all, he hadn’t been trying to lure the tauren away, and the offer to stay inside this strange city, away from prying and at times unforgiving eyes was a benefit.

 “I’m certain Ms. Stonehide would appreciate refreshment, perhaps our nervous friend may wish to recuperate from his excitement as well.” If one could ignore the Forsaken’s appearance, and the deathly tone of voice, he very well could have been just another passerby making pleasant conversation.

Nothrotes happened to look down, and spotted the man’s bottle, which had rolled precariously close to the lady tauren’s hoof.

“Ah sir, there it is. If Ms. Stonehide could be so kind as to remain still, perhaps you can fetch it quickly enough before someone makes an errant step.”

“The depth of darkness to which you can descend and still live is an exact measure of the height to which you can aspire to reach.”

Sunderstorm
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Sunderstorm nodded her head to Daraak in a goodbye, and then to the woman in thanks. "That sounds like it would be alright. This place is a bit prettier than Orgrimmar anyways, I am not in much of a rush to return there." Her muzzle wrinkled a little at the memory of the loud orcs and many tavern brawls she had recenty been witness to. She did not see the joy in letting ones'self so free with a drink you would try to pummle your friends.

At the spotting of the bottle close to her hoof, she scooted away just a little, making sure as to not crush it beneath her powerful hooves. She flashed a quick look at the little elf , wondering if perhaps he needed a vacation, or a little healing session with a shaman or priest to rid him of what seemed to almost be anxiety.

[H]: Tygerlily

Erylyn
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Illyne shot the departing elf a dark look, barely managing to not succomb to her juvenille urge of sticking her tongue out after him. She shook her head and replastered on a smile. "Then it's settled." She reshifted her purchase and strode off in the direction of the hall, assuming that anyone who was interested would follow. The Healer's Handbook hovered near the group, sighing at the elf's behavoir.

The priestess pushed aside the drapery that acted as the front door to the guild hall's main entry and coughed as dust stirred. They'd only settled in a few days ago and she'd not found the time to dust or completely clean the large space. Soft rugs and pillows were tossed in groups around the room, creating cozy areas to longue and relax with one of the books from the shelves that lined the walls. A few chaises and longues were scattered as well, for those more inclined to avoid the floor. She dropped her purchase off onto one of the desks, this one cluttered with paperwork for the city to help establish the guild. She turned, hoping that a few had followed, "What types of drinks may I interest you in?"

~~~
[H] - Erylyn, Illyne, and Meyrit.
Battle tag: Erylyn#1857, friendly requests only please.

"Erry Pooh Bear Snookie Wookums" ~ Frostfeathers

Jannit
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Character: Daraak Lightseeker

 

Daraak gave the group a friendly wave and a smile before taking his leave of them to begin the journey home.

As he wandered towards his stabled hawkstrider, his mind returned to the offer of a drink. His mouth began to water at the thought and without noticing the long suppressed urges began to resurface. Pausing for a moment, he took a deep cleansing breath and shook his head in an attempt to clear it. As always it didn’t work.

Although it had been nearly three years since he last had any alcohol, the desire never truly went away. Best to just avoid the temptation, he mused.

Without another backwards glance, Daraak passed through the main gates of the city and went off to find his hawkstrider for the return trip.

 

Vandrysse
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Nothrotes followed a respectful distance behind. The dust inside the guild hall naturally did not bother him. The seating arrangement, however, did - he chose to remain standing, a little off to the side of the group. He was not about to ruin any of the fine furnishings because of the nature of his being. The undead man did have some pride in his appearance - or at least had taken some measured calculation into how the living would react - and was careful to present a mostly clean version of himself. But even with his dark colored robes there were the occasional small stains of ichor and alchemical residue.

“Nothing for me, but I appreciate the other nonetheless.”

“The depth of darkness to which you can descend and still live is an exact measure of the height to which you can aspire to reach.”