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 Rattle-tongued Tales

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Posts : 163
Join date : 2010-07-16
Age : 30
Location : Double Rainbow Place

PostSubject: Rattle-tongued Tales    Wed Oct 27, 2010 6:42 pm

((I wanted to write ghoststories. This one is inspired by the bedside stories my dad used to tell me. And it's a way to describe my forsaken Laudel the limp.))
((ALSO! The new friend Ro talks about in here is a forsaken named Trigermortis! A scary guy. So the things he says about him are from his head not mine.))

A little man?

I had been working late. I was fixing my goggles that, for some reason, no longer functioned as they should. It had very nearly cost me my hide when they decided to go. The idiotic things had started sputtering and crackling in the midst of a battle, loudly enough to give away my position. At least I gave a few gnomes a piece of my mind. Despicable squeaky creatures, they look like tumors on legs.
“Hi.” said a familiar voice.
“Hello elf.” I replied in my best orcish.
“How a-are you doing?” The elf asked curiously and shoved his nose into my work. His plump little minion sat in his arms and made a noise of disdain as the elf nearly knocked him against my workbench. I gave the elf a slight push and he gave me enough room to work. Well almost.
“I am doing as fine as any forsaken could hope for.” I replied and tried not to imagine what the elf would look like if crushed to a pulp.
It is not that I dislike him. It is that he is alive. Very few of the forsaken who still dwell in Undercity tolerate that he actually –lives- here.
No one lives in the Undercity, they say.
“Oh.” The elf said and I knew he was waiting for me to ask how –he- was doing. I waited for a long time to see if the elf would say anything, or perhaps leave if I did not. He didn’t. I put my work down and looked at him.
“How are you doing, Roéd?” I rasped, cleared the puss from my throat, and smiled as pleasantly as I could. He is, after all, my supplier. He fetches me anything I might want and in some occasions he is good company. Had he been forsaken I would welcome him with open arms. But he is not.
His warm breath and the smell of his blood is enough to make me want to tear him limb from limb. Had he not been protected by the fel-mages, he would have been drowned like a sewer rat within the first day of his arrival.
I am quite tolerant for a forsaken, and have better control over my urges than most. Besides there are enough crazed humans up in the woods to quell my anger for years to come.
“I’m fine. I ma-made a new friend yesterday. He has s-said he won’t try to eat me even if I look tasty. A-and that is good.” I eyed the elf up and down and could not agree to his friends sentiments.
“You look little more filling than I do. There is no flesh to your bones. You are quite pale though, it is not hard to see your blood, especially not when you are embarrassed.” The elf furrowed his brow in thought.
“I d-don’t think blood it tasty.”
“That’s because you have so much of it, boss. But who cares?! That walking can-of-worms said he wouldn’t eat you. I think the real problem here is that he even thought about it.”
“H-he didn’t. He asked me why I ate d-dead meat and i-if I had ever tasted living meat. He said that he a-always ate l-living meat. I told him that w-we have to kill an animal to cook it.. And then he said h-he never ate animals. I a-asked him if he w-was going to eat me and he s-said; no.”
“Yeah yeah yeah.. He said he wouldn’t eat you because you are a member of the horde.”
“Mhm.” smiled the elf. I looked at the imp as he hopped out of his master’s arms to land on my workbench. He scratched his belly and made a rumbling sound at the back of his throat. The grumpy little demon poked at my spanner with his foot.
“Your friend sounds honest and self-disciplined. Much like myself I think.” I wondered hat sort of man this was who so openly spoke his mind to an elf.
I don’t know any elves other than Roéd, so my experience is limited. But they do seem to be quite peculiar. I’ve put that down to their many addictions. And perhaps my little friend was a tad tweaked by fel magic.
“Did you come here to tell me about your new friend or did you want something, Roéd?” I watched as the elf squirmed in his skin. The elf often complained of ants in his blood. They were the reason he had to wriggle like this, he said. I wondered if it felt anything like the worms under my skin, if so, his wriggling was justified.
“A story..” He said so softly that I could hardly hear him.
I had discovered his love for my stories very early in our friendship. Even if it gave him goosebumps and made the hair in the nape of his neck stand he would grin with delight through the entire tale.
I have never disliked bragging. And I enjoyed watching him while I told my tales. His skin seemed to live a life of its own. As if it too listened in.
“A story…” I said and let the word drag out. “Very well, breather, let’s find some place to talk comfortably.” By that I meant his home of course. He had all sorts of delightful things.

It was a dark and cold night. The woods of Tirisfall were damp and foggy. No sound was to be heard. No sound but the desperate pleas of a human. He shouted and cried, shouted and cried. Seemingly unaware that if anyone heard him, they would probably be like me.
A forsaken who has forsaken all.
Breath. Rasping breath that fought against his own lungs to keep his heart pumping. His own breath. The sound of it filled his ears. He sounded like a parody of an orchestra. The scratching on drum-skin, the thin wheezing of a flute, and his complaining cries for help were like a tragic choir of cellos.
He was dying, I could hear it. Even if he did not believe it, I think he heard it too.
But let me tell you the tale properly. Where were we? Ah yes.. Wheezing.
It was difficult to breathe, one of his lungs were punctured so it is a marvel he could make a sound at all. What had seemed to him like miles of crawling was in reality a few meters. Now he was too tired to move and in too much pain to stay silent.
His attackers lay strewn all over the forest floor, as was he. His legs were nothing but stumps of shredded meat and his life was leaking out of them. He meant to curse savagely but all that would come was another intelligible wail. The once powerful slam of his fist became a twitch of his hand. He lay there with his face in the dirt, crying quietly.
Then he heard a noise. Something was moving through the forest with a thud then a drag and a thud and a drag. The man stopped breathing. His throat tasted of blood and his eyes looked about blindly. It was coming towards him. Thud, drag, thud, drag. He began to cry again, this time not so quietly. His body wanted to hug itself, but could not gather the strength to do so.
“Help me..” Sang a ghostly voice. Thud, drag, thud, drag. “Heeelp meeee.” It bade. He managed to pull his hand up to cover his ear. The voice was too dull to be from any creature in need of aid. It was the same horrid voice that had lured him away from his post in the first place. And now the man realized it had been a trap. Thud, drag, thud, drag, thud..

I looked at the elf who now clamped both his hands over his mouth. It really is too easy to please these creatures. I am glad of that, seeing as I plan to travel soon.
“What happened n-next!?” The breather squeaked in anticipation.
“I need steel.” I replied and watched the elf scratched his head. “Bring me steel and I will tell you the rest.” If you don’t speak plain to these sin’dorei, they don’t understand you. Cryptic messages and hidden threats are lost on them. If I hadn’t seen Roéd’s competence in the field I would have wondered why we even allowed those creatures to join the horde.
“Oh..” He said disappointedly and tugged at his drooping ear. “Ok.”

Last edited by Vandien on Thu Oct 28, 2010 9:36 pm; edited 2 times in total
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PostSubject: Re: Rattle-tongued Tales    Wed Oct 27, 2010 10:30 pm

((Aaaaaaaaawwwww, poor Ro. I just want to hug that silly elf some times. ))
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PostSubject: Re: Rattle-tongued Tales    Thu Oct 28, 2010 12:15 am

((He has a thing for human girls /wink))
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PostSubject: Re: Rattle-tongued Tales    Thu Oct 28, 2010 1:09 am

((Ahh... Forsaken. Wait until you get a load of me *Chuckles merrily* ))

The way is shut,
It was made by those who are dead
And the dead keep it.

Skeleton in the closet.
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