Inkstrokes and Blood: Pt. 1

answers are written all over your face

[Originally composed January 16th, 2010; aka "the popcorn entry." "__________" is a young adult, female goblin; Greyer's expansion counterpart.]

Whimsi [on Worgen]: PUPPIES!

Taceo [on Greyer]: I'd really love to meet him, as far as his personality goes, I'd love to see if he's just as he sounds. I mean, I've read up on Gilnean society wherever I can steal books or scrolls and have them translated, and those humans are just fascinating. Greyer sounds like the type of guy I'd love to have as my nemesis.

Greyer [on Taceo]: Blood elves aren't exactly the type I'd socialize with; even if they spoke Common, well, just... no. This... Lady Taceo I keep hearing out and about, scraping her sword and shield and screaming hysterically outside the gate. Light help me...

Veton [on Spritzer]: He's very kind young man. When I spent one evening at the gate, I just happened to see him there when I was passing through, and he asked politely if I had any food. I split a wedge of cheese with him and we shared a few cornbread pieces. He was once a bartender for one of the pubs, but he was supposedly smoked out when he was spotted hanging out with some rogue named Lyall. I still feel so bad for leaving him there, he wanted to come away with me.

Greyer [on rogues]: Yes, I did review some public polls and I heard that most people are "rolling" Worgen rogues. Sure, let them, but tell me this, can they survive? Pick locks to escape certain death... memorize the flora required for efficient poisons? Have they ever tried to escape the kingdom unseen only to be foiled at the very last moment? Heh, tell me that.

Tabijin [on goblins]: *grumbles.*

Taceo [on goblins]: Pointy ears, cunning and witty, quite different than the rest of the Horde identities, like... Blood Elves... I think we'll get along just fine.

Greyer [on Spritzer]: Heh, that kid is undoubtedly something else. His company is tolerable, though his hopes of finding a cure for this curse is absolutely ridiculous.

Spritzer [on Greyer]: Greyer is... well... what can I say? He took me in and he's taught me a bit about surviving and not feeling so bad about losing my job. He also taught me how to duel with a sword. He's not an optimist though, which is fine since I guess one could say that I compliment him nicely. Like, what were their names...? Um, "Batman and Robin"? Heh... Maybe?

__________ [on the Alliance]: Armor up and brace yourselves, FOR THE HORDE, BABY!

Greyer [on "__________"] Seriously, Rese? You made her my expansion counterpart? I beg your pardon?! I was informed I would be taking the reins from the event of 'the Cataclysm' and onward.

__________ [on Greyer] Hey, bub, you gotta problem wit' me? YOU GOTTA PROBLEM WIT' ME?! *jabs a long-nailed finger into his shoulder* Back it up.

Taceo [on "__________"] FINALLY! Someone who knows what's going on!

Lunette [on WoW: Cataclsym] Rese... What about ME?! Q_Q

Whimsi [...]: PUPPIES?

Tabijin [...]: 'ave yeh seen mah daughtah?

__________ [on Tabijin] I'm really feelin' this guy... I lost my buddy on that ship back on the coast so I know what it's like to not have someone who understands me, knows me, in my life... anymore. Wherever he is now, I hope he's okay. As for this ol' crow here, I already love 'im. He's actually very sweet once you get past the craziness.

Pieces of Greyer

I've had some of these "forever," and I can't seem to complete them. They're just little snippets of paragraphs that kinda run dilly-dally all over my mind when I'm idle.

February 4th, 2010
It had been months since Greyer and Ata last met in the clearing, when she had sent a horde of vengeful citizens his direction with blazing torches. This was nothing like he had imagined, this... curse... By now, he had assumed other canines had populated the kingdom and it had spread much faster than he had expected - outbreaks of anger and the determination to rid the population of the monsters had fizzled into whispers of fear and pleads for help. The other night Spritzer had returned to the tannery with news that the kingdom's general store never opened for business at daybreak and the door bore several claw marks. The flour sacks that had ripped open, littered the floor with signs of struggle - and large canine-like tracks. Greyer simply shook his head at the youth, muttering that if the kingdom wanted to survive something as strange as this pandemic, Greymane would have to seek aid.

May 13th, 2010
This was it, the desperate cries for help had been answered. Those who fight under the banner of the Alliance reach out with concern and observe with skeptical eyes, and several of us - Worgen - extend waves upon waves of gratitude to them. Spritzer and I can only watch, unwavering and unfazed, keeping the hand that the Light - perhaps, simply Fate - has dealt us. Though the young bartender's eyes were seemingly dull and clouded over, he couldn't help but to question the silhouettes of pacing frostsabers.

May 16th, 2010
Greyer Lyall couldn't sleep. Monstrous howls woven with the gusts of wind occupied the spaces where thunder ceased to roll; and, when the storm calmed and the winds died, an eerie silence paved way for the sound of restless rain.

June 2nd, 2010
"You are impossible, Greyer!" she scoffed.
"Don't you see what is happening out there, Ata? It's a pandemic, the whole kingdom is succumbing to this monstrosity. It is a curse, there is no cure!"
Atalanta crossed her arms, "Have you any hope?"
The gray-haired gentleman's brows knitted together, and in one swift movement, he raised a hand, swiping it across his childhood sweetheart's cheek.

June 10th, 2010
"You can't tell me to be human!" he roared. "Who do you think you are?! You think you understand this, this chaos, this monstrosity that has been bestowed upon us? How dare you." She diverted her gaze away from his disheveled figure, "You aren't all that you say you are, I see more than that."
"Get the hell away from me, Rese. The next time I even hear you approach the Lyall Tannery again, I swear I'll attack you."
"But, what about Spritzer?"
"Spritzer could destroy you."
"You can't speak to me that way, Greyer Lyall, I--"
"OUT!!"

RP Table: Greyer

The rocky seaside was possibly one of the worst places a kingdom could settle on. Cold, frostbitten winters announced their arrivals with seemingly endless days of rain, and continued on in that fashion until the weather allowed a beam of sunshine or a plain cloudy day. Greyer ran his cold fingers through his mousy brown hair, slicking it back. Taking his pipe from his inner vest pocket, he placed it in his mouth, but didn't bother with lighting it - the sheets of rain cascading from the sky would have made it impossible, and even attempts of shielding a flame from the downpour would not save it from the wind.

He shrugged, continuing to lean against the side of city hall. Being around society again was refreshing, he hated to admit. Their fear was almost exhilarating, just watching them scurry to and fro in the rain made him grin. "Good evening, Mister Thewlis." He gave a nod in salutation as the gentleman walked past, keeping his hold on his top hat as he greeted Greyer with a slight smile and a cautionary statement about getting indoors and out of the rain. Greyer smiled in return and shook his head as the man continued on his way down the cobblestone path.

The wind began to pick up, causing the candlelit lanterns to swing from their hooks. He took this as a sign to get up and head back to the family tannery, his current place of residence. After casting a backward glance at the city hall, he weaved his way around the lamp posts, a little skip in his step. When he arrived to the small shoppe, Spritzer - the young bartender who had recently become his constant evening companion - was already at the door, apparently eager for his return. "Locked out again?" he chuckled, pulling an iron key from his trouser pocket. The youth nodded, shivering. "Get in," he smiled, placing a hand on Spritzer's shoulder and nudging him over the threshold. "Guess I'll have Fenrir make a duplicate key for you tomorrow morning." Spritzer prodded at the logs in the fireplace with a thick twig before successfully getting them to catch flame. As Greyer removed his thick coat and hung it by the door, the evening ritual of settling down for the night began; and, as the bartender climbed into Faolan's old bed, Greyer slipped into his bedroom.

Closing the door behind him, he watched as several pieces of paper hanging from the walls fluttered. He lit the oil lamps around the room with caution before sitting down at his desk, continuing his research about the Curse that had fallen over the kingdom he had once loved.

[I know this piece doesn't have much to tell, but well, I wanted to share the design of it, and, perhaps confirm that Greyer and Spritzer aren't camping by the gates like they were in previous story drafts, but staying in the Lyall Tannery - the family shoppe. I guess it kinda shows Greyer's "gentler" side as well, if anything.]

December 14th

Hidden away behind the tree near the northern bank of Dalaran, Taceo draped her cloak around her legs. The cool breeze bit at her cheeks and whisked her short hair about her forehead and eyes. She shivered and withdrew a hand out from underneath her cape to pull her worn backpack closer to the large, gnarled root she leaned against. There would be no tanking nor healing duties today. There were much more than dungeons, high quality gear, and other soldiers to worry about. The only thing she knew was that she could not lose anything and anyone she held dear - and that included her beloved guildmates - to a cataclysm.

Whimsi hummed softly as she dumped her backpack and her container of safety deposit box items on the floor of the northern Dalaran bank. She tossed her coin purse back into her backpack and eyed the rest of the knick-knacks that had collected at her feet. Zombie's curious, horned-skull lowered into the pile and she gently shoved him away from his reins and moss-filled feed bag. The skeletal horse nipped at her once and she forced him away with a sallow palm. Tumnus' head peeked out from underneath his owner's backpack flap. Whimsi smiled and scooped him into her lap. He rubbed his head against her ribcage as she snatched up the various of herbs that had tumbled out of a scroll case she had found while exploring earlier. Adeptly, she bundled them up with twine and stored them away properly into their appropriate jars, sorting which containers would be sent to Tabijin and which would be returned to the bank. After gathering the odds and ends and striking a deal with a nearby vendor, she made her way to a mailbox, tripping twice due to Tumnus weaving his way around her ankles. The canister of deadnettle would sell, as would the leftover mageroyal petals and goldclover leaves... A battered mace, a handful of enchanting dust, a sprig of lichbloom, a discolored potion (still tasted 'minty' though), a spiked staff, a necklace of unusually elegant craftmanship... and a hug. Once the items had been arranged neatly into the mailbox, she bent down and placed Tumnus carefully alongside the items and closed the door, positive that the feline would make the old troll smile. She opened the mailbox lid slightly, her luminescent eyes lighting up the dark, empty corners. She furrowed a brow; while she had been expecting mail hawks and owls to swoop down, she realized that her mail had been magically sent. (Damned mages....)

The elderly troll sifted through the piece of mail that had returned to him at Tanka'Le Village. Most of them addressed him with an elegantly written salutation of "Hail Chief Tabi'" or a "Sir Tabijin." Auction money, letter from Lady Taceo, auction money, returned bid, letter from Lady Taceo, package from Whimsi, package from Winterr, Whimsi's request for a cat toy, a bundle of returned auction lots, auction money, Tumnus... Nothing fascinating as usual. The broad-striped tabby cat purred at him and swatted at his hand as he scooped up the rest of the envelopes. He heaved a weary sigh and tucked the items into his backpack before lifting Tumnus out of the mailbox; he'd have to get Taceo to deliver him back to Whimsi yet again.

Veton laid back in her hammock, careful to slowly rest her hooves on the wooden bar closest to the inn entrance. Tanaris held nothing but desert, goblins, and their need for items from places and creatures she could barely face. She wondered what her family would be doing if no one had left the crash site and continued helping with the recovery of their ship. She wondered if she had even the slightest chance to run into Lena, Elodi and Zilaara again. Thoughts of Goruth and Ealenia and the possibility of becoming a battle medic alongside them even crossed her mind. Her tail tip curled as a warm gust of wind blew through the small Gadgetzan inn; she really hated it here.

Rain poured heavily from the sky, seeping its way onto and into anything it landed on. Greyer shook the water from his thick pelt, starting at his tattered ears and neck and working his way down to calves, restoring the fur at his ankles to its previous damp, feathery appearance. He wished he had stashed his armor away for the night; though it provided some protection from the storm, distressed patches and seams sewn together with only waxed cotton cord could not keep him dry. He swallowed and let out a yawn, baring his teeth and curling tongue; after howling for nearly an hour, boredom had finally caught up with him. His eyes focused on his newly-found companion, a tawny-pelted, middle-aged individual by the name of Spritzer. If they hadn't been chased off by their fellow denizens, they would've been in the inn enjoying a pint of ale and enjoying themselves instead of prowling about by the King's Gate, waiting for the rain to stop. Spritzer's sightless eyes shifted from Greyer to the sky above. Greyer snorted and stood up briefly before planting his hands on the muddied path, continuing to head back to his makeshift camp on all fours. The blind bartender's khaki-furred ears swiveled forward and upon hearing Greyer's footfalls above the whispering rain, he set his nose to the ground and followed suit, the claws of each of his paws digging into the soaked terrain.

If anything, everyone, despite the distance between them, eagerly awaited the return of Greatfather Winter to restore their spirits of hope and happiness....

Versus: Our Blog's Two Males

Tabijin:

• more like a father (understanding, worrisome)
  
• had a family and lost them (two dead, one lost)
  
• disowned a friend
  
• was shaped by family tradition (father was a Shaman)
  
• "Fallen patriarch"
  
• was an elitist to some degree; was a chief adviser to tribe

Greyer:

• more like a son (rebellious against authority, unruly)
  
• had a family and lost them (all deceased)
  
• betrayed by a friend
  
• dislikes family tradition (older brothers overshadowed him)
  
• "Rising rebel"
  
• was a humble being, befriended the tavern bartender

Hmmm... trying so hard to make Greyer unique compared to Tabi and the girls; perhaps, even, an "anti-Tabijin." Already ran his personality through the D&D character alignment test and came out surprisingly as Chaotic Neutral (no one has had that result before, so it was like "whoa"). So, yeah...

Also, if you're also creating a Worgen, check these out:

• WoW.com | Worgen
  
• WoW.com | Know Your Lore: Gilneas
  
• WoW.com | Know Your Lore: Worgen

[Note: these links do not directly contain quest spoilers.]

...heh, for all I know, Greyer's father/family could've made armor/supply packs for the war(s), the Lyall family could've assisted in building the Greymane Wall... Could Greyer become afflicted with the Curse because of an encounter with his father or brothers (whether a bite or simple contact)? Something to consider, I suppose. I really want some more specifics about the Curse's dynamics beside the fact of it "spreading through Gilneas unchecked for several years."

On a different note and on the other side of the Greymane Wall, Greyer can't seem to shake off the annoyance of an individual by the name of "Spritzer." Not sure who he is just yet, but Greyer's howling and snarling by the King's Gate has been heard almost nightly now.