Caedun Dec 17 '18

Quote from Yssadora Skysinger "It is our own flaws that we are least ready to forgive in others."

He lugged the Sin'dorei man by the nape of his platemail, a hot twinge traveling through his elbow, shoulder, and back as he oscillated between outright sprint and acrobatic vaulting. He used his free arm to catch outcroppings, posts, anything that would give him purchase to fling himself further and faster. The off-balance weight and keeping his burden from dragging was wearing on him and he grunted with every exertion.

The paladin had ruined his stakeout, charging headlong into a throng of demons as they had descended upon several innocent Shal'dorei. In a brilliant flash he had completely annihilated the beasts, but not without being struck down himself. Every part of Caedun's instincts and training had told him to leave the fool to his fate, but it was a whisper from his "companion" that pushed him over the edge.

Abandon him, yes. What good serves another light-bearer, anyway?

He cursed as a fel bolt ricocheted off his back, leaving a scorch mark on him and a shattered parapet above. As he cleared the city limits, he lifted the paladin to face level and yelled at his barely-opened eyes through a curtain of red hair.

The Forum post is edited by Caedun Jan 2 '19
Caedun Dec 20 '18

Quote from Yssadora Skysinger "So keep your judgment for someone else, I've had enough."

Legs folded and arms crossed over his chest he sat as a knot of weighty muscle, back straight against the pristine white pillar of the temple. His head was tipped forward and eyes closed, but he was awake to everything around him.
A land of both Elune and druidism at their most embodied, it was a place he had always wanted to visit in his youth. His presence here now brought him some modicum of unexpressed grim amusement.

He hadn't expected to be welcomed into the temple, or any of Elune's holdings for that matter, and had simply self-selected to wait outside while Larzbolt went in to discuss methods of assistance with the priestesses.

He knew they knew he could hear them, clergy and defenders both. The muttered conversations--the damnations and accusations all--were clear as day to the combined potency of elven hearing and Illidari senses.

The whispers and curses grew in volume and number and he finally lifted his head, turning it to the right and opening his eyes. He gazed at the distant but all-too-close mass of corruption, poised to consume the holdout. He focused in on the demonic presences that lurked around it. All else fell silent.
Caedun Dec 20 '18

Quote from Iyeris of the Black Tide "the world only know you by your worst mistakes"

Though his family had burned long ago, he had taken the time to burn his name as well.

He was comfortable being hated for his choices, a dead man's fighting ghost could afford to pay no mind to judgement, but he wished to free those he loved in ages past of the burden of his path. He had seen too much to refuse belief in the fact that spirits of the deceased lived on in some form, and though a small part of him hoped they did not scorn him for what he did he was more focused on never letting their memory share association with what he had become.

He was a moniker now, a self-imposed pseudonym akin to many of his ilk, but without need to carry any semblance of the life before or a future imagined. He drew strength from few things, but this freedom was second only to the unending hate that churned in his breast.
Caedun Jan 10 '19

Quote from Iyeris of the Black Tide "sometimes you have to bag the boss up."
Self-sufficiency was a common skill amongst the Illidari--a necessity to live in inhospitable wilds for unplanned lengths on the hunt--but the modern world ran on coin, and he was not above it. He had become popular in some rebellious circles of the Nightborne, not by intent but by passive benefit of his unslakable thirst for demonic murder, and it had benefited him in the offer of jobs and bounties.

Tonight's was high-paying though nonstandard. No protection of caravan, no escort of refugees, no returning of the exiled to their homes through surreptitious means. Though r
ationing of arcwine was common, a successful "redistribution" had occurred, and it had resulted in need for celebration. Instead he played bouncer, bodyguard, for a raucous and undulating party, to catch creeping or invading demonic entities.

Thudding music gave way to swaying hips, and his tuned senses caught wind of flirtatious glances and coquettish whispers that brought the smallest surprise to his, frankly, beastly visage. He was briefly grateful that his felburned eyes obfuscated all hint of where his gaze fell.

He chided himself for his lack of focus, and returned to waiting for hidden enemies as he always did.

The Forum post is edited by Caedun Jan 10 '19
Caedun Mar 4 '19

Quote from Iyeris of the Black Tide "i tried to show 'em."

The planet was a frigid mess, all splintered ice and cooling blood. His grip intensified around the nathrezim's head, turning strangled cries into gurgling exhalations and then nothing.

They sat in the prep room, licking wounds and offering muted discussion. The high of the hunt rode on through all of them, a distracting thud of the heart and mind that deafened their own attempts at conversation.

He sat with Tyrana, slowly eating rations. They were both battered, alit by the smattering of stars that filled the dark red sky. He adjusted his legs, kicking the limp skull of one of the Felguard amidst the pile of demon corpses they rest upon.

He awoke on the floor of the inn, having forsaken the bed for something he was more comfortable with. Feelings flowed out of him, and the hate poured into him anew for the nth time.

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