Objective: Write small stories written around a single word.
Theme: World of Warcraft
Stories 38-41
38. Snow
It was the third time strolling around Lake Elune'ara and Cylus became more familiar with every bend in the flattened grass path. Too intent was she on staring at the path ahead that she didn't notice the ripples in the lake moving toward her. She paused to pick up a smooth flat stone and chucked it into the water, skipping it a few times. That was when she was made aware of a large white sea lion, gazing back her with gentle brown eyes. Two massive horns curling high and far apart on the brow indicated she was in the presence of a Tauren druid.
Cylus retreated a few paces to give him room as he swam to shore, hooves striking the ground in a flash of transformation. Her eye drawn to the tell-tale groove in his horn, the unarmed woman bowed low, certain no harm would come to her here in this haven. "I remember you."
Clad in a modest robe, rivulets of water dripped off his shaggy fur as he towered over the human."You are never still. Running from this worry to the next." His voice gentle as Talir's and just as sonorous, the white Tauren reminded her of the soft-spoken Anchorite. "Focusing too much on only the path before you is folly. Many have their eye on you now." He ran his thumb lightly over the groove in his gleaming horn.
"I'm Cy--"
He waved a hoof-hand, cutting her introduction short. "I am aware of you, Cylus Corwyn. The day we first met in the snow, I was seeking you, yet I did not know it at the time." Oblivious to the soaked robe clinging to his form, he gracefully maneuvered himself to sit in the grass. He beckoned her to join him, shaking his great head from side to side to clear away the drops of water running into his face. "My blood-brother described you differently. You are neither as tall nor as fearsome as he mentioned. And while you are indeed pleasing to look upon, there is something else about you. Your heartfire burns brightly. Had Mulgris only spoke of that I would have found you much sooner."
Cylus did her best to ignore the blush the compliment induced and instead asked, "Heartfire?"
"Your connection to others. Many are drawn to you, Cylus. This you cannot deny. I have observed the roles you play: sister, friend, leader, loved." The Tauren touched the groove again, emphasizing the gesture with his low-intoned words. "You leave your mark on us all, though it is not always as evident as my own. Mulgris Deepriver gives you his gratitude from the beyond."
Cylus had listened quietly while he spoke, lulled by his soothing voice. At the unfamiliar name she gave him an inquisitive look. "Your friend will be in my prayers, though I do not know the name."
"Mulgris was sent to the diseased lands to cull the animals there. You returned his wand to Darnassus which was brought to the attention of the Elders. I see you remember now. Mulgris was a father to me. It is an honor to finally deliver his message." He scratched his furred jowls and shifted in the grass.
"I do. His wounds were too great, and he died before I could get back." The lovely blue eyes glimmered, but the druid did not see a fragile creature before him. This young human had achieved a great many things in her short lifespan. The Argent Dawn had nothing but praise and their highest esteem for the knight. Her name was even well-known among his brothers in the Enclave, extending even to the Cenarian Expedition in the Outlands. Her hands brought about so much good. Looking upon the demure woman who sat before him with her hands clasped in her lap, he found it hard to believe she had accumulated so many enemies. Several factions, including the Syndicate and the Bloodsail Buccaneers hated the very mention of her name. Then others like the Twilight Cultists and Scarlet Crusade had already sent their agents upon her.
"Cylus, how old are you?"
Raking pale fingers through her dark red hair, she mused aloud. "Twenty and four years. Though I'll be another year older in a month."
So young. He heaved his frame upright, standing slowly. "Listen to the spirits. They watch over you now." He noticed the look on her face. "Not ghosts, though you have a few of those as well."
Lowering his hoof-hand to her shoulder, he took care to pat her gently. "It is no coincidence you have many willing to guard you. You mark them well. Your burdens were not meant for you to carry alone."
With another pat, he turned away.
"Sir! I don't know your name."
Straightening up, his broad face only turned slightly to her, his back muscles bunching under the robe. "I was Ara'pak Sunspeaker, but my brothers call me Mornmarked now.
"Mourn-marked?"
"In the morn. The time of day we met." He shifted into a cat and vanished down the path in a snowy blur.
Walking down the path, Cylus considered her new ally. Rusty reserved comment, a masterful creation of civility.
39. Solid
"You can't change what's already done and past." She chided herself under her breath.
She caught the same blacksmith eyeing her again. Managing another blush she grinned sheepishly and shrugged as if to say "Oh, I talk to myself all the time!" and mounted up. Her charger fought hard for the reins until she gave up and sat back, rolling her eyes helplessly as Courage raced to the Park. Once there, he raced down the grassy hill and around the moonwell, snorting and leaping, and only coming close to dislodging his passenger twice. Usually he was worse. When Cylus was out of breath from holding on, she jumped clear of the saddle and landed heavily in the grass. Courage continued his wild prance without slowing, soaking up the moonlight on his sweat-dampened flanks. Cylus made a face at her 'noble steed' and pulled herself upright. Looking around, the prior events that took place here were brought back to life. She stared at grass where the battle had occurred and shivered. So close to death and she had frozen. It was to her deepest shame that she stared in shock at the shape-shifted Tauren... as the good general leapt into action and fought with a fury unmatched. It was just that seeing the Horde Druid in the city, and in her quiet place no less, had unnerved her. The general didn't even have his armor on. "Such a fool."
Sighing heavily, she sat in the grass, hoping darkly that Courage would land one good solid blow to her head. It might do the trick in banishing the self-pity. "I'm such a damned fool."
40. Spring
"So what are you going to name him?" Cylus asked sweetly of the young gentleman in front of the counter.
"HER. It's a she. And I don't know."
Cylus nodded sagely, allowing him time to think it over. Her mechanical squirrel hopped up beside her and whirred softly before settling down at her elbow.
"Does it have a name?" He pointed at the dinged up robot, his distaste disappearing at seeing how well-crafted it was.
In response, the robot sat up on its plated haunches and clicked several times.
The young paladin giggled. "His name is Rusty. I've had him for almost a decade now."
"Will my robot last that long?"
"Oh, definitely. Unless it doesn't. Then you can bring her in for a check up free of charge. Unless there's expensive parts." She added quickly before he could change his mind. "And there isn't.
That model is made entirely of tempered steel parts."
He straightened up quickly. "But that's not cheap at all."
Cylus shrugged, "It's cheaper than our mithril and thorium models. And you should see the ghost iron dragonlings."
"No no, thank you. This one will suit me fine."
The gentleman ruffled his hair, an endearing gesture that reminded her of a friend from the past. Closing her eyes, she thought of Erec and found she missed her former life, but never enough to return to it. Not after she had been isolated from it for so long. Protected.
Rusty chirped, tugged on her sleeve with a tiny delicate copper paw. "Hmm? Yeah, I'm fine." She gave him a small pat on his metal ear.
"Spring."
She snapped to attention, her military training coming out briefly before she rudely shoved that part of herself back down. "Pardon?"
"Her name is Spring. And I think Spring likes Rusty."
41. Stable
She had received a missive from Stormwind to lend her aid to Chillwind Camp. It seemed Cylus spent too much time in the Plaguelands. Yet she had secured a burgeoning alliance with the Argent Dawn, nodding at a battle-hardened soldier as he stood at attention at her arrival. Everyone was saluting her these days. She climbed out of the saddle, laying a hand on her charger's armoured flank. Cylus missed Courage. This new steed of hers was cold holy flame embodied in shimmering form and blessed arcanite body. She didn't even bother naming him. Her charger appeared at her side with a thought. She thought again how much she missed her Courage. Even if he had nudged her into the canal when she was drunk, screaming from the cold as Elisa giggled. He might have been a rebellious hunk of horseflesh, but she had cared for him since the day they first met, almost fifteen years ago. Courage had gotten ornery and coltish in his age. He deserved his retirement, returning back to Eastvale Stable to be well-cared for by the Hunters.
Stories 1-7 8-13 14-18 19-25 26-33 34-37
Theme: World of Warcraft
Stories 38-41
38. Snow
It was the third time strolling around Lake Elune'ara and Cylus became more familiar with every bend in the flattened grass path. Too intent was she on staring at the path ahead that she didn't notice the ripples in the lake moving toward her. She paused to pick up a smooth flat stone and chucked it into the water, skipping it a few times. That was when she was made aware of a large white sea lion, gazing back her with gentle brown eyes. Two massive horns curling high and far apart on the brow indicated she was in the presence of a Tauren druid.
Cylus retreated a few paces to give him room as he swam to shore, hooves striking the ground in a flash of transformation. Her eye drawn to the tell-tale groove in his horn, the unarmed woman bowed low, certain no harm would come to her here in this haven. "I remember you."
Clad in a modest robe, rivulets of water dripped off his shaggy fur as he towered over the human."You are never still. Running from this worry to the next." His voice gentle as Talir's and just as sonorous, the white Tauren reminded her of the soft-spoken Anchorite. "Focusing too much on only the path before you is folly. Many have their eye on you now." He ran his thumb lightly over the groove in his gleaming horn.
"I'm Cy--"
He waved a hoof-hand, cutting her introduction short. "I am aware of you, Cylus Corwyn. The day we first met in the snow, I was seeking you, yet I did not know it at the time." Oblivious to the soaked robe clinging to his form, he gracefully maneuvered himself to sit in the grass. He beckoned her to join him, shaking his great head from side to side to clear away the drops of water running into his face. "My blood-brother described you differently. You are neither as tall nor as fearsome as he mentioned. And while you are indeed pleasing to look upon, there is something else about you. Your heartfire burns brightly. Had Mulgris only spoke of that I would have found you much sooner."
Cylus did her best to ignore the blush the compliment induced and instead asked, "Heartfire?"
"Your connection to others. Many are drawn to you, Cylus. This you cannot deny. I have observed the roles you play: sister, friend, leader, loved." The Tauren touched the groove again, emphasizing the gesture with his low-intoned words. "You leave your mark on us all, though it is not always as evident as my own. Mulgris Deepriver gives you his gratitude from the beyond."
Cylus had listened quietly while he spoke, lulled by his soothing voice. At the unfamiliar name she gave him an inquisitive look. "Your friend will be in my prayers, though I do not know the name."
"Mulgris was sent to the diseased lands to cull the animals there. You returned his wand to Darnassus which was brought to the attention of the Elders. I see you remember now. Mulgris was a father to me. It is an honor to finally deliver his message." He scratched his furred jowls and shifted in the grass.
"I do. His wounds were too great, and he died before I could get back." The lovely blue eyes glimmered, but the druid did not see a fragile creature before him. This young human had achieved a great many things in her short lifespan. The Argent Dawn had nothing but praise and their highest esteem for the knight. Her name was even well-known among his brothers in the Enclave, extending even to the Cenarian Expedition in the Outlands. Her hands brought about so much good. Looking upon the demure woman who sat before him with her hands clasped in her lap, he found it hard to believe she had accumulated so many enemies. Several factions, including the Syndicate and the Bloodsail Buccaneers hated the very mention of her name. Then others like the Twilight Cultists and Scarlet Crusade had already sent their agents upon her.
"Cylus, how old are you?"
Raking pale fingers through her dark red hair, she mused aloud. "Twenty and four years. Though I'll be another year older in a month."
So young. He heaved his frame upright, standing slowly. "Listen to the spirits. They watch over you now." He noticed the look on her face. "Not ghosts, though you have a few of those as well."
Lowering his hoof-hand to her shoulder, he took care to pat her gently. "It is no coincidence you have many willing to guard you. You mark them well. Your burdens were not meant for you to carry alone."
With another pat, he turned away.
"Sir! I don't know your name."
Straightening up, his broad face only turned slightly to her, his back muscles bunching under the robe. "I was Ara'pak Sunspeaker, but my brothers call me Mornmarked now.
"Mourn-marked?"
"In the morn. The time of day we met." He shifted into a cat and vanished down the path in a snowy blur.
Walking down the path, Cylus considered her new ally. Rusty reserved comment, a masterful creation of civility.
39. Solid
"You can't change what's already done and past." She chided herself under her breath.
She caught the same blacksmith eyeing her again. Managing another blush she grinned sheepishly and shrugged as if to say "Oh, I talk to myself all the time!" and mounted up. Her charger fought hard for the reins until she gave up and sat back, rolling her eyes helplessly as Courage raced to the Park. Once there, he raced down the grassy hill and around the moonwell, snorting and leaping, and only coming close to dislodging his passenger twice. Usually he was worse. When Cylus was out of breath from holding on, she jumped clear of the saddle and landed heavily in the grass. Courage continued his wild prance without slowing, soaking up the moonlight on his sweat-dampened flanks. Cylus made a face at her 'noble steed' and pulled herself upright. Looking around, the prior events that took place here were brought back to life. She stared at grass where the battle had occurred and shivered. So close to death and she had frozen. It was to her deepest shame that she stared in shock at the shape-shifted Tauren... as the good general leapt into action and fought with a fury unmatched. It was just that seeing the Horde Druid in the city, and in her quiet place no less, had unnerved her. The general didn't even have his armor on. "Such a fool."
Sighing heavily, she sat in the grass, hoping darkly that Courage would land one good solid blow to her head. It might do the trick in banishing the self-pity. "I'm such a damned fool."
40. Spring
"So what are you going to name him?" Cylus asked sweetly of the young gentleman in front of the counter.
"HER. It's a she. And I don't know."
Cylus nodded sagely, allowing him time to think it over. Her mechanical squirrel hopped up beside her and whirred softly before settling down at her elbow.
"Does it have a name?" He pointed at the dinged up robot, his distaste disappearing at seeing how well-crafted it was.
In response, the robot sat up on its plated haunches and clicked several times.
The young paladin giggled. "His name is Rusty. I've had him for almost a decade now."
"Will my robot last that long?"
"Oh, definitely. Unless it doesn't. Then you can bring her in for a check up free of charge. Unless there's expensive parts." She added quickly before he could change his mind. "And there isn't.
That model is made entirely of tempered steel parts."
He straightened up quickly. "But that's not cheap at all."
Cylus shrugged, "It's cheaper than our mithril and thorium models. And you should see the ghost iron dragonlings."
"No no, thank you. This one will suit me fine."
The gentleman ruffled his hair, an endearing gesture that reminded her of a friend from the past. Closing her eyes, she thought of Erec and found she missed her former life, but never enough to return to it. Not after she had been isolated from it for so long. Protected.
Rusty chirped, tugged on her sleeve with a tiny delicate copper paw. "Hmm? Yeah, I'm fine." She gave him a small pat on his metal ear.
"Spring."
She snapped to attention, her military training coming out briefly before she rudely shoved that part of herself back down. "Pardon?"
"Her name is Spring. And I think Spring likes Rusty."
41. Stable
She had received a missive from Stormwind to lend her aid to Chillwind Camp. It seemed Cylus spent too much time in the Plaguelands. Yet she had secured a burgeoning alliance with the Argent Dawn, nodding at a battle-hardened soldier as he stood at attention at her arrival. Everyone was saluting her these days. She climbed out of the saddle, laying a hand on her charger's armoured flank. Cylus missed Courage. This new steed of hers was cold holy flame embodied in shimmering form and blessed arcanite body. She didn't even bother naming him. Her charger appeared at her side with a thought. She thought again how much she missed her Courage. Even if he had nudged her into the canal when she was drunk, screaming from the cold as Elisa giggled. He might have been a rebellious hunk of horseflesh, but she had cared for him since the day they first met, almost fifteen years ago. Courage had gotten ornery and coltish in his age. He deserved his retirement, returning back to Eastvale Stable to be well-cared for by the Hunters.
Stories 1-7 8-13 14-18 19-25 26-33 34-37