exsiliumlogs | Letters to God

Entry tags:

Letters to God

Date & Time: 5/9, 7PM-ish until PROBABLY LATE
Location: A BAR
Characters: Ashraf and Thass AND BARIYAN gets his own thread
Summary: Stop me if you've heard this one. Two undead guys and a priest walk into a bar... DRINKS. TALKIN ABOUT THE LIGHT AND PEOPLE AND STUFF. BARIYAN AND THASS ARE GONNA HUG IT OUT maybe idk man don't look at me like that
Warnings: Mentions of death? I dunno!

[He made an effort to be punctual- to be honest, he liked having a schedule. He didn't like having nothing to do, his mind rarely wandered kind places, and not having a mission was unfamiliar. Even during the time between the Lich King's fall and his assignment to Andorhal, he could fill his days thinning the ranks of the undead that infested the Plaguelands.

But now...he didn't even have that.

Instead, he was turning his mind to the project of his farm. Though he had no intent of growing anything- if anything living could be grown by these hands, he added, bitterly- it was good to have a project. He had every intent of going back there, today, but Asraf's request to meet in the evening had given him an excuse to spend more time around the city.

So here he was, sitting in the same bar that he had met Bariyan, and ordering an ale for himself as he sat at the bar in his new clothes and with his swords sheathed on his back.]

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[A cold chuckle at that, and he glances to Ashraf.]

That's fair. I am sorry about earlier. I didn't realize it would wake you up.

[He takes another drink.]

My kind, we don't sleep. Probably for the better that we don't. As you can imagine, the nights get a little boring.

It's fine! [ His grin dissolves into a warm smile. ] You can contact me any time you like, really. I'll answer if I'm awake, and I'll do my best otherwise.

[He nods.]

I'll keep that in mind.

Did you get into your new home okay?

Oh, just fine. [ He waves that off as uninteresting; he's not here to talk about his super cool life, after all. ]

What about you? Did you land yourself new roommates?

Two boys, both from my own world. One of them being the prince, Anduin. I may have mentioned him to you, when we last spoke?

[He kind of wanted to talk about Anduin, actually.]

How do priests train, in your world?

[ He remembers that, and... can only assume that the subject change is related. So, sure, gonna go with that. ]

Typically by aiding warriors, and keeping them alive through battles they wouldn't usually live through. Personally, I know a few spells for the killing of demons and [ er. awkward beat. ] —undead, so I hunt on my own, now and then.

[A slight smile.]

I've killed plenty of undead in my time, as well. Don't worry about upsetting me, with that. I know that, one day, I'll be laid to rest, and I can only hope that it's because the fight is finally over, and not for a worse reason.

[He takes a drink, recalling, keenly, his sister. How awkward it had been to be around her- both of them wanting for the same kinship they had in his life, but he wondered, sometimes, if it would be better if she simply considered him dead.]

My kind are not natural to my world. We don't belong among the living.

[ He hadn't exactly been smiling, but it had at least been a pleasant look. That fades with this, sinking into something more serious and solemn. ]

I don't agree at all. The undead I combat — and you too, I'm sure — are mindless and cruel. They don't bring the world any good. You, with your hearts, minds, and nobility intact? I would have you at my side any day.

[ oops slippin into speech patterns from his previous life, there. It makes him feel especially old. ]

[Hearts, nobility. His mind is there, yes, but the rest, he's not exactly sure of. Still, it's a kind sentiment, even if he doesn't believe it all the way.]

And you, mine.

[He goes a bit quiet.]

How did the undead come to be, in your world?

[ He just can't do Serious like he used to, and so he can't help cracking a quick grin. ]

Don't be so sure. For all you know, I could be awful at my job.

[ The next question saps away the humor again though, and he offers a shrug. ]

There's a different story for them for each part of the world. Sometimes it's a curse, sometimes it's punishment, sometimes it's just misfortune.

In my world, it's caused by a plague.

[That was part of why he was so cautious. He knew it was still in him, whatever filth infected him and made him this. Part necromancy, part sickness, it was something that had worried him, while he was alive. There had been whispers from the east that it took hold in Stratholme, and there were many nights spend lying awake, worrying over it.

He looks at Ashraf for a moment, and then looked back down at his glass, his gloved hands.]

...can you cure diseases? Not for me...it's too late for that, but.

[He frowns slightly.]

If I'm going to be around the living, it would be something I'd like to know, just in case.

[ He shakes his head, grave. ]

Not ordinarily, no. I can help with the symptoms of a disease, but curing it is beyond a priest's skill. [ But that said, he musters a curious glance. ] Why? You don't actually think you're going to be — spreading it?

Not if I can help it, no.

[He was already taking precautions, if he was going to be in close quarters and sharing a home with the living. He refused to touch their dishes, clothed himself as much as he could around them. They had known it came from infected food, back home, but how did the food get infected, in the first place? He didn't need to eat, and he never cooked for Anduin and Med'an.]

I can control it, but I wanted to know in case something happened. In case a mission went awry or an accident happened. When it takes hold, it's fast...I can work with it, make it into other things, but I don't know how to cure it.

[It was something to think about, maybe when he had his own space at the farm. All the tricks he had learned had been for things like turning plagued spinal fluid into acid and such, but maybe there was more to it.]

Back home, they never found a cure, far as I knew. Priests and Paladins could treat it, lessen the spread a bit, but they couldn't cure it.

[He remembered one tale, of them trying to save a Paladin...not even the Naaru from far-away Draenor could cure him. It was something beyond the Light's reach, but he could hope that maybe, in a different world, it would be worth a chance.]

Edited (it's the liz and dee edits show) 2013-05-14 23:23 (UTC)

[ He listens solemnly, then turns his attention to his drink. There are more memories resurfacing here — calling them up is often difficult, as fifty years and a death stands between them and now. He sips, thoughtful, and speaks slowly. ]

When I was here the first time, there was... Arthas, that was his name. He wasn't here long, but he tried to spread his plague. Using... using animals, I think. [ He frowns. ] I'm not sure, it woud be better to ask someone else for the details. But I seem to remember that I was able to cleanse people of it, if I caught it quickly enough.

Arthas.

[His prince, Arthas. His king. His slaver. His grip tightens on his glass, frost spreading from his fingers over the smooth surface. You might feel a bit of a chill, Ashraf.

The plague, of course he would try to spread it. To get an army. And why? Thassarian never quite understood Arthas' motives, just understood the anger and rage when he realized the same thing that every Death Knight at Light's Hope had-

They were expendable to Arthas.

They meant nothing to him.

His anger, too, was close and personal. A deep grief that he had been led so astray. That he had trusted Arthas, blindly. Had believed in him. And for what? To be damned and raised as nothing more than a tool of war for Arthas to throw away when it suited him.

His prince, Arthas.

How much he had once believed in him. How much their entire kingdom had. He could still remember writing to Leryssa- telling her what a good and virtuous man Arthas was. How safe their home was, with the prince to defend it.

"And I would gladly lay down my own life to aid him in this cause."

Words he had written a lifetime ago. That he had meant, at the time. That he had eventually carried out.

Words that he regretted, now.

He catches himself, the frost spreading across the bar, crystals of proper ice forming on his hands, and blinks, sitting back and calming himself, trying to bring his body back to room temperature, to make his thick, dark blood not freeze in his veins.]

I'll keep that in mind, then, but I hope it never comes to it.

[ There's a whole lot to be heard in just that one word. Ashraf watches Thassarian's face, eyes dropping away only when ice begins to form. He leans in closer, a hand lifting to rest at the man's shoulder. ]

As do I.

[ The touch comes with a blessing, soothing and strengthening, and he offers a smile. (Not a heal, because of all his faded memories, the pain Koltira had gotten from being healed stands out clearly.) ]

[He knows that feeling, and it helps to chase away the last of the ice in his veins.

He smiles slightly, leaning a bit closer and looping an arm around Ashraf's neck in a rough, one-armed hug.]

Thank you, Ashraf.

[ Oh, god, not the fragile priest. But Ashraf smiles back, dropping his hand to avoid having anything twisted unpleasantly. Beefy guys, what can you do. ]

Was that all you wanted to talk about?

[ Not that he's in a rush to go, he's just wondering if they're done being serious, here. He's not so good at extended serious anymore. ]

[Sometimes, he doesn't know his own strength, and to be fair, he's not used to hugging the living anymore.

He steadies himself with a hand against the bar and lets Ashraf go after a second. Hey, they both survived being hugged! And no one fell off their barstool!]

When I had asked, before, about training...in my world, people learn from those who are more skilled.

I was wondering if you'd be willing to teach Anduin a few things.

I think people in all worlds learn from those who are more skilled, Thassarian. [ That's with a grin, though, and he leans back to consider the request. ]

I've never tried teaching... I'm not sure if I'd be much good at it. [ He taps the top of the bar thoughtfully, but it doesn't take him long to reach his conclusion. ] But I'd be willing to try it.

[HEY YOU SAID YOU LEARN BY HEALING PEOPLE AND KILLING UNDEAD OKAY I CANNOT INTO YOUR GRINDY-ASS GAME.

He smiles.]

Good! I'll mention it to him.

[And, for the other thing...]

I had another person I wanted to talk about. How well did you know Koltira?

[ oh Koltira, that broody thing that Ashraf had been so fond of. The thought of him makes him smile; but then, what doesn't. ]

Pretty well. [ Though not as well as he wishes he did, after his return. But hey, the guy's probably busy, that's understandable. ] Why?

Just wondering. Seems like he has a lot of friends, from what I can tell. I was just wondering if it was just the people here.

[He smiles, a bit.]

I'm glad he has friends. Back home...well, neither of us really had many people we could consider friends. I was happy to call him my brother, but I don't know how many other people he had.

[A slight frown. They hadn't spent as much time together after their freedom as he would have liked.

And then...]

...what happened, when you went home? What part of your life did you go back to?

[A hint of worry.]

It could be. This place gives us all a solidarity that we might not find at home, and friendships form easily.

[ The question takes a little thought, though. As with everything else, it's fuzzy.

Eventually: ] I went back to the moment I left it, as far as I can remember, just like they say. [ A glance over. ] Are you thinking about your return?

No, not for me.

[He goes quiet, and takes a drink. He was right, about this place being better for Koltira.]

My return...it had been almost a month since I had last seen Koltira. I was waiting on orders from our Highlord...

...we were supposed to be rescuing him.

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I started and I couldn't stop.

it happens to the best of us

how could this happen to meeeeeeeee

our icons look like they're doing bedroom eyes at each other up there

healbomb me gently, bb *sax music plays in background*

oohhh rubbin beards

ashraf my beard has never been touched like this before be gentle

thass's beard, you gon bottom to this stubble like you never bottomed before

psh please that beard is not arguing

it knows its place

thass's beard: i've never been touched by another beard like this before

healbomb me gently, bb sax music plays in background