Post by Fyrra Na'Limndra on Feb 27, 2017 14:48:33 GMT -5
Takes place after the fight in the ally with Philip and the bandits.
As the pair arrived in the tavern they pushed through past the out of towners and Alliance folks that had come to swarm the place. The proprietors were swamped with business and trying to serve gaggles of people. Fyrra wanted nothing to do with any of them. Usually she was a friendly sort that enjoyed extroversion and communing with the common populace.
Instead she had wanted to be alone. She went up to their room and sat in the middle of the floor, leaving Merrake in the pub space on that floor with the other patrons that had rooms.
Fyrra was disturbed by what she had done to those bandits. She executed no major violence against them. It was no comfort though. She had reached inside that young man and caused his death. She scrambled some of the bits inside with her hex for long enough for the Skaldi to land a killing blow.
The power had felt good. Just like how healing felt good. She had never been the type of person to actually hurt anyone else. It made her appreciate how Merrake handled herself.
Folded up on the floor of her room she thought about those young men and their lives. It was different from slaying skeletons.
They were people. They had mothers. Mothers they probably disappointed. Mother's that would mourn the deaths of their sons if they were alive to do so.
She found herself muttering a prayer for them to Azuloth and was surprised. She wasn't overly religious.
What had brought on the prayer? Pity? Perhaps there was no divine hall to reside in upon their deaths. They were only human. They had no god to save them from the nightmare of the world beyond life.
As the pair arrived in the tavern they pushed through past the out of towners and Alliance folks that had come to swarm the place. The proprietors were swamped with business and trying to serve gaggles of people. Fyrra wanted nothing to do with any of them. Usually she was a friendly sort that enjoyed extroversion and communing with the common populace.
Instead she had wanted to be alone. She went up to their room and sat in the middle of the floor, leaving Merrake in the pub space on that floor with the other patrons that had rooms.
Fyrra was disturbed by what she had done to those bandits. She executed no major violence against them. It was no comfort though. She had reached inside that young man and caused his death. She scrambled some of the bits inside with her hex for long enough for the Skaldi to land a killing blow.
The power had felt good. Just like how healing felt good. She had never been the type of person to actually hurt anyone else. It made her appreciate how Merrake handled herself.
Folded up on the floor of her room she thought about those young men and their lives. It was different from slaying skeletons.
They were people. They had mothers. Mothers they probably disappointed. Mother's that would mourn the deaths of their sons if they were alive to do so.
She found herself muttering a prayer for them to Azuloth and was surprised. She wasn't overly religious.
What had brought on the prayer? Pity? Perhaps there was no divine hall to reside in upon their deaths. They were only human. They had no god to save them from the nightmare of the world beyond life.