Post by nima on Oct 1, 2007 18:09:17 GMT -5
Narrator: We are back, again, with more of the two sisters. Shall we continue?
Nima stopped for a moment; and, looked around the center hub of Undercity. She had just visited the bank and auction house; and, was ready to leave the city. Reaching into her backpack, she brought out her mirror. It was a habit for her to make regular checks on her appearance. As she gazed into the mirror, something occurred that she had never experienced before. Instead of her own perfect appearance, the image changed. A warm feeling overtook her as she studied the image of a Blood Elf. He was dressed in a red shirt, with long, flowing, red hair framing his handsome face. She glanced at her hand which seemed to still be feeling the gentle touch of his hand holding hers.
As she was lost in all the new sensations she found herself experiencing, she looked up to see another Blood Elf standing before her, only inches away. She took a step backward and faced Kaenel. She had met him, briefly, once before. Nima had taken an instant dislike to him. There was something strange about him, his smile, his voice and the way he looked at her. This time was no different. He sounded happy to see her, his eyes staring at her bodice. His words hinted that they should make a team. “We are perfect, “ he said. “Ice and fire. Opposites attract, you know.” He stepped even closer and placed his mouth near her ear. “I saw Litah the other day. She was with Nithei. They were very cozy, if you know what I mean.” Nima glared at him as she backed away from him. “You know Litah? I didn’t know any of the Hammer’s have met Litah.” “Of course, “ he told her. “Litah and I are old friends. She’s had a thing for Nithei for a long time.”
Nima backed farther away from Kaenel. “I don’t believe you! Why would you say such things?” Kaenel smiled at her, an eerie, cynical smile. Then, he turned and hurried away. For the first time, Nima recognized that she had found someone, other than herself, that she admired. Almost instantly, she had been seeded with doubt, distrust and jealousy, all toward the one she trusted most. She wanted more than anything to talk to Litah about it, as she had done all her life. However, she chose to stay quiet. She did not trust this Kaenel, even if he were a member of the family which she had found. She would wait and see. She and Spanki were to work together on several tasks in the Plaguelands. Nima decided to wait. There would be time to speak with Litah.
As fate would have it, Litah had reported to her trainer in Silvermoon City. She had avoided another visit to the Naaru, knowing her strength was ebbing. As she rushed to the trans-locator, her eye caught the insignia worn on the shoulder of a female standing at the mailbox. Litah’s thoughts repeated in her head. “I cannot do this alone.” Taking a deep breath, she introduced herself. The lady responded. “Hello. So you are Nima’s sister. My name is Thillion.” As they spoke, Thillion appeared pre-occupied. Litah was not at all certain that Thillion had even heard her plea. It felt useless, Litah excused herself and continued on her way.
Later that day, Litah found herself among the Satyr in Ashenvale, trying to carry out the instructions of an employer. Her strength was failing. With each stroke of her sword, she could feel herself growing weaker. “You need to pull your shoulder back, Litah. That swing was off. Straighten your stance.” a voice spoke behind her. She felled the Trickster with a final blow and turned, sword ready. Before her stood a Blood Knight. He displayed his tabard proudly. From his dress, she assumed he was of a much higher season in training than she. His voice denoted a arrogance, much like that of the Blood Knights who relished their visits to the Naaru. “Who are you? What have you to do with me?” she demanded. As he spoke, her eyes caught the glint of a familiar insignia, attached to the shoulder of his tabard.
“I am Blood Knight Theiadrin. I have been sent to evaluate your performance,” he explained. Litah felt the fear of being investigated become like a heavy stone around her neck. Litah allowed him to speak as he explained his purpose for following her. She barely heard his criticism of her performance as she studied the insignia on his shoulder. “Hammer of the Ancients, you are with them?” Litah interrupted Theiadrin. “Yes, how do you know of us?” he seemed surprised. “My sister, Nima, is one of you.” Coming to a decision, Litah asked, “Have you time to hear my tale? It is a long one.” Theiadrin, immediately, became concerned; and, consented to hear what Litah had to say.
Slowly and with great effort, Litah told Theiadrin all she felt he needed to know. She wanted him to understand why she must make her plea. When she told him of her first visit to the Naaru, he was shocked and appeared angry that she had taken Nima with her. Litah continued her tale. The telling of it seemed to help her. She took comfort in confiding in the fellow Hammer of Nima’s. When she finished, he seemed more interested in her theory that there was another source. However, he was as much at a loss for finding it as was she. He eluded to the humans and dwarves that were paladins; and, the contention that they must have a source that was not as cruel as their own. “Until it is found, as long as we use it for good against evil, it shouldn’t matter where we get our strength.” he said as he rose to leave. Litah stared at him, “It does!” she insisted. “No wrong can make a right. There is another source; and, I will find it.” She rose to face him. “Before you go, I ask one thing.” “If I can.” he bowed his consent. “Try, just try, to keep Nima out of Deatholme, please?” “I will do what I can.” At that, he bade her farewell.
Litah found herself, not long after, landing at the flight master’s in Ratchet. As she turned to leave, she found herself facing a Forsaken priest. On her shoulder was the same, familiar insignia. Litah felt fatigued, her eyes burned, her muscles ached. An old wound had festered, causing her to limp. Where she would go next, she did not know; but, for her sister, she would chance anything, humble herself in any way. She greeted the priest and introduced herself. As the priest presented herself as Melessendra, Litah found herself staring into the most caring eyes she had ever seen. Once again, she asked someone to hear her story.
This time, as she was allowed to talk, she felt as if this might be the right person with whom she should speak. Melessendra appeared to her to have honest concern for her sister. She seemed to have a great deal of concern when she told her of the Dark Lord. She confided in her that she felt strongly that Nima was the “empty vessel” that she was commanded to bring to him. As they parted, Litah, once again, made her plea that Nima be kept away from Deatholme. Melessendra assured her that, not only she, but all those of the Hammer of the Ancients would do what they could to protect Nima. As she limped away, Litah looked back to study Melessendra. Content that she could do no more, or better, in finding someone to watch over her sister while she continued her pressing search, Litah made her way out of the town.
Nima, fighting on the far continent, not too far from her homeland, was undergoing a new threat to her existence. The seeds, planted by Kaenel, were growing. She was beginning to experience feelings that were all too alien to her. Jealousy and distrust were growing. “How could Litah do this to me?” she grumbled to herself. Her instinct had been to talk to her sister. Now, time had played it’s part. Anger was slowly growing within a heart that had, virtually, lain dormant of real emotion. Little-by-little, Nima could feel the change.
As she fought the undead creatures, a familiar voice sounded through the stone. Nithei had awaken and called her name. He asked her how she was. She answered, briefly. A warm feeling had overtaken her and made her feel happy. For a brief moment the doubts were gone. This warm feeling was replaced, however, by a great deal of confusion.
Narrator: Interesting, one sister who has always insisted upon handling matters alone, now turns to others. The other sister who had taken life at face value, seeing only herself at it’s central, has found what others have said she does not possess. We shall continue this tale another time. Good day.
Nima stopped for a moment; and, looked around the center hub of Undercity. She had just visited the bank and auction house; and, was ready to leave the city. Reaching into her backpack, she brought out her mirror. It was a habit for her to make regular checks on her appearance. As she gazed into the mirror, something occurred that she had never experienced before. Instead of her own perfect appearance, the image changed. A warm feeling overtook her as she studied the image of a Blood Elf. He was dressed in a red shirt, with long, flowing, red hair framing his handsome face. She glanced at her hand which seemed to still be feeling the gentle touch of his hand holding hers.
As she was lost in all the new sensations she found herself experiencing, she looked up to see another Blood Elf standing before her, only inches away. She took a step backward and faced Kaenel. She had met him, briefly, once before. Nima had taken an instant dislike to him. There was something strange about him, his smile, his voice and the way he looked at her. This time was no different. He sounded happy to see her, his eyes staring at her bodice. His words hinted that they should make a team. “We are perfect, “ he said. “Ice and fire. Opposites attract, you know.” He stepped even closer and placed his mouth near her ear. “I saw Litah the other day. She was with Nithei. They were very cozy, if you know what I mean.” Nima glared at him as she backed away from him. “You know Litah? I didn’t know any of the Hammer’s have met Litah.” “Of course, “ he told her. “Litah and I are old friends. She’s had a thing for Nithei for a long time.”
Nima backed farther away from Kaenel. “I don’t believe you! Why would you say such things?” Kaenel smiled at her, an eerie, cynical smile. Then, he turned and hurried away. For the first time, Nima recognized that she had found someone, other than herself, that she admired. Almost instantly, she had been seeded with doubt, distrust and jealousy, all toward the one she trusted most. She wanted more than anything to talk to Litah about it, as she had done all her life. However, she chose to stay quiet. She did not trust this Kaenel, even if he were a member of the family which she had found. She would wait and see. She and Spanki were to work together on several tasks in the Plaguelands. Nima decided to wait. There would be time to speak with Litah.
As fate would have it, Litah had reported to her trainer in Silvermoon City. She had avoided another visit to the Naaru, knowing her strength was ebbing. As she rushed to the trans-locator, her eye caught the insignia worn on the shoulder of a female standing at the mailbox. Litah’s thoughts repeated in her head. “I cannot do this alone.” Taking a deep breath, she introduced herself. The lady responded. “Hello. So you are Nima’s sister. My name is Thillion.” As they spoke, Thillion appeared pre-occupied. Litah was not at all certain that Thillion had even heard her plea. It felt useless, Litah excused herself and continued on her way.
Later that day, Litah found herself among the Satyr in Ashenvale, trying to carry out the instructions of an employer. Her strength was failing. With each stroke of her sword, she could feel herself growing weaker. “You need to pull your shoulder back, Litah. That swing was off. Straighten your stance.” a voice spoke behind her. She felled the Trickster with a final blow and turned, sword ready. Before her stood a Blood Knight. He displayed his tabard proudly. From his dress, she assumed he was of a much higher season in training than she. His voice denoted a arrogance, much like that of the Blood Knights who relished their visits to the Naaru. “Who are you? What have you to do with me?” she demanded. As he spoke, her eyes caught the glint of a familiar insignia, attached to the shoulder of his tabard.
“I am Blood Knight Theiadrin. I have been sent to evaluate your performance,” he explained. Litah felt the fear of being investigated become like a heavy stone around her neck. Litah allowed him to speak as he explained his purpose for following her. She barely heard his criticism of her performance as she studied the insignia on his shoulder. “Hammer of the Ancients, you are with them?” Litah interrupted Theiadrin. “Yes, how do you know of us?” he seemed surprised. “My sister, Nima, is one of you.” Coming to a decision, Litah asked, “Have you time to hear my tale? It is a long one.” Theiadrin, immediately, became concerned; and, consented to hear what Litah had to say.
Slowly and with great effort, Litah told Theiadrin all she felt he needed to know. She wanted him to understand why she must make her plea. When she told him of her first visit to the Naaru, he was shocked and appeared angry that she had taken Nima with her. Litah continued her tale. The telling of it seemed to help her. She took comfort in confiding in the fellow Hammer of Nima’s. When she finished, he seemed more interested in her theory that there was another source. However, he was as much at a loss for finding it as was she. He eluded to the humans and dwarves that were paladins; and, the contention that they must have a source that was not as cruel as their own. “Until it is found, as long as we use it for good against evil, it shouldn’t matter where we get our strength.” he said as he rose to leave. Litah stared at him, “It does!” she insisted. “No wrong can make a right. There is another source; and, I will find it.” She rose to face him. “Before you go, I ask one thing.” “If I can.” he bowed his consent. “Try, just try, to keep Nima out of Deatholme, please?” “I will do what I can.” At that, he bade her farewell.
Litah found herself, not long after, landing at the flight master’s in Ratchet. As she turned to leave, she found herself facing a Forsaken priest. On her shoulder was the same, familiar insignia. Litah felt fatigued, her eyes burned, her muscles ached. An old wound had festered, causing her to limp. Where she would go next, she did not know; but, for her sister, she would chance anything, humble herself in any way. She greeted the priest and introduced herself. As the priest presented herself as Melessendra, Litah found herself staring into the most caring eyes she had ever seen. Once again, she asked someone to hear her story.
This time, as she was allowed to talk, she felt as if this might be the right person with whom she should speak. Melessendra appeared to her to have honest concern for her sister. She seemed to have a great deal of concern when she told her of the Dark Lord. She confided in her that she felt strongly that Nima was the “empty vessel” that she was commanded to bring to him. As they parted, Litah, once again, made her plea that Nima be kept away from Deatholme. Melessendra assured her that, not only she, but all those of the Hammer of the Ancients would do what they could to protect Nima. As she limped away, Litah looked back to study Melessendra. Content that she could do no more, or better, in finding someone to watch over her sister while she continued her pressing search, Litah made her way out of the town.
Nima, fighting on the far continent, not too far from her homeland, was undergoing a new threat to her existence. The seeds, planted by Kaenel, were growing. She was beginning to experience feelings that were all too alien to her. Jealousy and distrust were growing. “How could Litah do this to me?” she grumbled to herself. Her instinct had been to talk to her sister. Now, time had played it’s part. Anger was slowly growing within a heart that had, virtually, lain dormant of real emotion. Little-by-little, Nima could feel the change.
As she fought the undead creatures, a familiar voice sounded through the stone. Nithei had awaken and called her name. He asked her how she was. She answered, briefly. A warm feeling had overtaken her and made her feel happy. For a brief moment the doubts were gone. This warm feeling was replaced, however, by a great deal of confusion.
Narrator: Interesting, one sister who has always insisted upon handling matters alone, now turns to others. The other sister who had taken life at face value, seeing only herself at it’s central, has found what others have said she does not possess. We shall continue this tale another time. Good day.