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Thread: Big green Warchief/Sorceress of the Alliance romance. MUHAHAHAHAA!

  1. #151
    Alpha-Female of the RPGC Staff Weiila's Avatar
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    Ah yes, brazier is the word. Thanks guys, it drives me nuts when that happens. :)
    New fanfic quote:

    "I am indeed a spy, milord, but not for the enemies of Mordor or the Master. Instead, I serve a different master, a group called the Protectors of the Plot Continuum. Milord, have you ever heard of 'fanfiction'?"
    "Aye. A particularly odious form of sorcery, by all accounts."
    /.../
    "Yes. And have you heard of 'fangirls'?"
    "They are but a legend! A fearful legend, but a legend nonetheless."
    -Architeuthis of the Protectors of the Plot Continuum and High Nazgul of the Ringwraiths
    From "Intelligence Briefs for the PPC: The Beginning" by Architeuthis


    Quote Originally Posted by darkling
    Orochimaru has joined the Baby-Sitter's Club.

  2. #152
    Double Trouble Rigmarole's Avatar
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    And jobs be damned? I'm glad for the update, but I'm a biased party.

    I'm afraid I don't have any serious commentary as I can't take the writing in what with all the noise here. I'm pretty sure that guy a few computers away is Swedish though. Tourist industry represent.
    Quote Originally Posted by Weiila View Post
    They entered Grommash Hold without incident, something that certainly caused relief within many of the involved.
    That reads more like your informing what people felt rather than describing it ;) Imagery like people breathing in relief would do, even though too typical, but I'm sure you can come up with something better.
    The many torches and burning embers in huge three-footed bowls ((there is a word for that and I can't think what it is even in Swedish. Halp!)) helped the eyes adjust, however.
    On the other hand, if you interspersed your commentary throughout the text it would work great! I'm reading Tom Jones these days and it goes the same route (though the writer be master of the inclinations of body and soul, without which proclivities let none take up the challenge of that lofty task). You could do a second version of the fic or I could er... perform surgery on it. Sometime.
    She sensed intelligence behind this rigmarole, but it was meaningless to her.

    ...those who regard me as effete, arrogant, distanced. [Interviewer: All of which is true, of course.] [Banville:] Of course!

  3. #153
    Alpha-Female of the RPGC Staff Weiila's Avatar
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    Thanks for the feedback, as always. I'm trying to make the large chunks of already written chapter come together right now, and though it's coming a little slow we're getting there. Steady, steady... okay, let's rock.


    “Thank you, Warchief,” Tandred replied. One would be hard pressed to believe he honestly meant that, but his voice sounded admirably neutral.

    “I understand that entering our capital puts a lot of pressure on your mind.” As satirical as it seemed to state something so obvious, Thrall’s tone remained as calm and serious as ever. “But I assure you that I would not allow any harm to come to the brother of my wife.”

    One could have heard a needle hit the ground in the silence. It was brief, only a second or two, yet it seemed to stretch on forever. Jaina held her breath. She could tell that Tandred struggled for what to say.

    Thrall left the verbal floor wide open, waiting like everyone else. If he felt as tense as Jaina did, he did not show it in any way.

    Finally, finally Tandred took in a deep breath.

    “I believed I would only ever meet you with sword in hand, Warchief.” He shook his head, but did not look away. “I… truly do not know what to say.”

    Strangely, just a few of the present Horde members bristled at that first sentence. At its core though, what Tandred said was simply a conclusion of what everyone had believed.

    Thrall slowly nodded.

    “I am sure you would have wanted to protect your sister,” he said, softly.

    Those words could have been a challenge, but they were not. Not the way he said it.

    “Yes,” Tandred replied. He frowned slightly, seemingly trying to gauge what the Warchief wanted from him. What he himself wanted from this strange meeting. “Although she assures me that she does not require any aid.”

    Glances flew between the people watching from the sidelines. Tension knotted in the air, even if the tones of the two leaders remained civil. Jaina clenched her teeth. Thrall and Tandred were tiptoeing around the shadow hanging over both of them, and her.

    And then Thrall brought the verbal fist right down on it.

    “My people have no happy memories of the last time we tangled with Kul Tiras, Admiral, and neither do I,” he said.

    Jaina’s breath stuck in her throat, and she couldn’t help but turn her head slightly towards Tandred to see his reaction. His eyes narrowed beneath a deepening frown, but he didn’t move or speak otherwise. Instinctively, her gaze fluttered over to the others in the room. Some were exchanging quick whispers, looking between the Warchief and the Lord Admiral. Vol’jin’s piercing eyes remained locked on Thrall, she noticed. He seemed to be tensely waiting for something.

    “It was a painful business for everyone involved,” Thrall continued. He calmly regarded Tandred, who remained silent. “However, that is in the past. You are the brother of my wife, and therefore I would wish to see friendship rather than enmity between us.”

    Tandred gave Jaina a sharp look from the corner of his eye, one she returned with a careful, slanted smile. She had known, she had even tried to prepare him for it, but from the look on his face he hadn’t actually managed to believe her.

    “You speak of a treaty, Warchief?” Tandred carefully asked, keeping his voice neutral but obviously unsure what to think.

    “A peace treaty is unfortunately, as we are all aware of, probably too much to even discuss for the time being. Considering the circumstances though, a ceasefire would be acceptable to me.”

    In the silence, the disbelief felt so thick you could have cut it with a knife. It emanated mostly from the Elite Guards, however. Only some of the Horde spectators looked actually surprised. Thrall must have wisely informed them. Jaina found herself glancing at Vol’jin again. From where she was she couldn’t tell for sure, but she thought his lips tightened slightly.

    Another eternity seemed to snail by until Tandred finally spoke again.

    “I… thank you graciously for your offer, Warchief,” he slowly said. “For my sister’s sake, I too wish for no aggression between us or our nations. Accepting even an agreement of ceasefire with Durotar would however risk the pacts Kul Tiras already has within the Alliance. I will have to discuss this matter with my advisors before I can answer you.”

    Thrall nodded.

    “A wise course of action. I will await your reply.” He paused briefly, but not long enough to speak in between. “That is all I wished to speak with you about for the moment, Admiral. Do you wish to add something?”

    “No, Warchief.” Tandred still showed little sign of relaxing, despite the fact that the visit was obviously reaching its conclusion. “I thank you for meeting with me.”

    “And I thank you for offering to meet with me,” Thrall replied. For daring to meet with him. “Good day to you, Admiral.”

    “Good day.”

    Jaina nodded to Thrall, and he returned the gesture. Still silent, because this was not her meeting, she raised her hands and focused. Just as easily as she had brought Tandred, herself and their escort to Orgrimmar, she returned them to the open area outside of the Theramore citadel.

    There were more people outside now, and many of them jumped at the sudden appearance. Wide eyes of soldiers and townsfolk alike took in the sight of everyone returned safe and sound.

    Jaina had barely begun lowering her arms when Tandred spoke.

    “A word with you, Jaina?”

    It didn’t really sound like a question. She clenched her jaw, giving him as honest-looking smile as she could muster.

    “Of course.”

    By the same spell, she brought them away from the citadel and the town, inside the chambers he had been accommodated.

    She knew what to expect, and therefore she was prepared when he instantly whirled on her.

    “Jaina…!”

    “Don’t be a fool, Tan,” she sharply said. “We are talking about peace that have seemed impossible. Don’t throw it away without a second thought.” He started to speak, but she was louder and for a second they both spoke until he let her finish. “Don’t you think I considered all the same implications as you do now, before the marriage?”

    “I can’t declare cease fire with the Horde just like that!” he said. “It’s easier for you because Theramore is here, but we have our mainland in the Eastern Kingdoms. And what would our people say?”

    “What has the Eastern Kingdoms done for you, lately?” she demanded. When he jumped as if stung, she added, “I know my own homeland is ailing, Tan.”

    “You still shouldn’t orchestrate something like this. I told you before, Kul Tiras is my responsibility.”

    She met his scowl with the same.

    “I orchestrated nothing,” she frostily said. “I only relayed your message. Go’el was the one who asked whether he should make you this offer. When he did, I told him to bring it up with you. You have to agree it’s a logical step, since he and I are married.”

    “Jaina, I-” He took in a deep breath and then heavily slumped down on a chair. “I’m so confused right now. The world isn’t making any sense.”

    The anger in him went out like a candle, as if the oil fueling it had suddenly dried up.

    His exhausted tone and heavy shoulders killed off the annoyance in Jaina’s heart, for the moment at least. For certain the two of them would clash on this matter again, probably sooner than later, but the hatchet disappeared beneath the earth for now.

    “Would you like a glass of wine?” she kindly asked, moving towards the door to call for a servant.

    “Yes please, or rather something stronger. Light!”

    An evil little voice urged her to call for an orcish beverage – she did suspect that he would actually like many of the orcish alcoholic creations. Most people did, once they got over their suspicion and – after swallowing – their eyes stopped rolling. She controlled that urge, however, as it would be a cruel joke. Perhaps later, though.
    New fanfic quote:

    "I am indeed a spy, milord, but not for the enemies of Mordor or the Master. Instead, I serve a different master, a group called the Protectors of the Plot Continuum. Milord, have you ever heard of 'fanfiction'?"
    "Aye. A particularly odious form of sorcery, by all accounts."
    /.../
    "Yes. And have you heard of 'fangirls'?"
    "They are but a legend! A fearful legend, but a legend nonetheless."
    -Architeuthis of the Protectors of the Plot Continuum and High Nazgul of the Ringwraiths
    From "Intelligence Briefs for the PPC: The Beginning" by Architeuthis


    Quote Originally Posted by darkling
    Orochimaru has joined the Baby-Sitter's Club.

  4. #154
    Alpha-Female of the RPGC Staff Weiila's Avatar
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    And now it's time for... stuff Weiila wrote months ago and still haven't managed to puzzle together.

    Because.

    hoo boy



    As the sun sunk towards the horizon, Jaina pushed the heap of papers aside. Just a little break before she read and signed a few more…

    She stood up from her desk and stretched her stiff muscles, allowing herself a soft groan. Outside, the sky flared with gold and red, with ripples of purple clouds dissolving in the evening winds.

    It had been a good day. Anxiety from the morning faded eventually once her pulse went down and she could properly digest that the meeting had actually gone off without a hitch. Although, she would have to ask Thrall if there were any reports about attempts to disturb the peace.

    It wasn’t something she wanted to think about then. Gazing out at the sunset sky, she leaned her chin on a fist and for a little while let her mind wander.

    Thoughts slipped from relief, to gentle pride for Tandred, past all the other things she had had to focus on after returning to Theramore. Politics. She didn’t want to think of any of that now. Idly, she brushed her fingertips against the back of her hand.

    She thought about Thrall.

    The sun stubbornly hung in the sky, moving excruciatingly slowly towards the horizon. In good consciousness, she couldn’t go to Orgrimmar to be with him until nightfall. He might not be in his chambers yet, either. They both had business to attend to.

    Sighing softly, she returned to her chair and the papers.

    There were not only everyday reports, but also letters from various people. The leaders of the world’s factions were not the only ones reacting to the latest development. Those leaders had aides, advisors, generals, everything around and below. Not to mention what appeared to be throngs of nobles. All of them sending well-wishes with more or less thinly-disguised real thoughts on the matter, be it hope or disgust.

    The letters were folded with already written responses, simply waiting to be signed. A couple of scribes checked all letters not directly from factional leaders before Jaina even saw them, to make sure it was really something that deserved any attention from the lady. These days, that pair grumbled between themselves as they massaged their aching fingers, wishing that some clever gnome would invent a machine which could write texts automatically.

    Jaina put yet another letter aside and glanced outside again. The warm colors of the sky were intensifying as the sun lowered more and more. Once she’d signed a few more letters, say six, and read two more reports, she could go.

    When she lowered her gaze, however, she saw a familiar glow. Her communication rune laid beside the heap of papers, and even as she reached out for it the glow faded and returned. Breath stuck in her throat and her fingers froze above the carved stone. Again the glow died.

    And rose for a third time.

    Something was wrong. The prospect of meeting with Thrall, which had just been something she had long looked forwards to, now made her steel her mind and clench her jaw. Taking in a steadying breath she touched the rune and focused to find her way to her husband. Bright light flared around her, ripping away the environment itself.

    She found herself in his chambers, gazing up at him with a question forming on her mouth already. But he raised his hand in a calming motion while placing his own rune on his writing table. Like her desk, the slab was covered with papers, as well as a few scrolls.

    “It’s nothing that needs panicking over,” he said, then pursed his mouth. “At least, I hope so.”

    That did nothing to make her worry any less.

    “What is it?” she asked.

    “I’m sorry to bring you more concerns so soon, however…” He paused and shook his head, taking a yellowed paper from the table. “Just a few days ago a group of young warriors sneaked into Tiragarde Keep. They found this.”

    Jaina’s frown cut deeply into her forehead as she took the offered letter. It felt a bit oily against her fingertips, obviously well-thumbed already. The seal on top of the page, however, was unmistakable and sent a chilly feeling plummeting through her gut. As she read, her eyebrows twitched and dove, the frown deepening even further.

    Official Orders For The Kul Tiras Fleet
    I, Admiral Proudmoore, shall lead the first landing…


    It went on, the words sounding in her head as if spoken by her father’s long lost voice. That was only disturbing, however, until she reached the second half of the document.

    “Light!” she hissed, pressing a hand to her lips as she read the declaration that somewhere out there was another part of the Kul Tiras fleet, set to return to Tiragarde and continue the assault on orcish lands at some unknown point.

    Lowering the letter, she stared up at Thrall.

    “Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” she asked.

    “My misplaced sense of chivalry, no doubt.” There was little humor in his voice and expression, however. “I received it just two days before the wedding. There were other matters to drive us both up the wall.”

    “Oh, Go’el.”

    She couldn’t quite decide if it annoyed her or not, but pushed those thoughts aside. The real issue was far more pressing.

    “I’ve never heard anything about this scouting fleet,” she said, scowling at the letter in her hand, “and this is very old. They may have been lost at sea. But we have to show this to Tandred.”

    She didn’t even think twice about the “we”, and he only nodded.

    “Agreed,” Thrall said, offering his huge, gauntlet clad hand.

    Jaina placed her own hand on the cool metal covering his palm and again focused her mind. It took a little more effort to bring somebody else along with the teleportation spell, but not so much that it was a problem for her. She had, after all, transported several men and women back and forth just that morning.

    They reappeared in her chambers in Theramore, and Jaina immediately set off across the floor with Thrall just behind her. She could have used her magic to immediately bring Thrall and herself to Tandred’s chambers or at least to appear right outside his door, but she found it impolite to barge in on people like that. Not to mention what the reactions of Tandred, or any guard, servant or other person in the citadel, if the orcish Warchief suddenly appeared out of nowhere.

    The guards on the other side of the door blinked and stared as their Lady stepped outside, with a huge orc following her. Thrall had to duck and move sideways just a little bit to get through to the corridor outside. His steps rung against the stone floor, and the carpet could only do so much to mitigate his heavy footfalls.

    Looking a little dazed, the two men saluted without a word.

    It was not a very long walk to the rooms Tandred had been given, but the sight of Thrall caused a few wide eyed stares and gasps along the way. Jaina gave him an apologizing glance the first time it happened, but he merely returned that look with a mild, wry smile.

    There were Theramore guards, not Kul Tiras soldiers, standing outside of Tandred’s room, thankfully. They stepped back, eyes flicking back and forth, as Jaina told them to. She knocked on the door.

    “Tandred?”

    “Jaina? Come in,” came his reply, muffled through the wood separating them.

    “My husband wishes to see you,” she said as she opened the door.

    Tandred shot to his feet from the armchair he had been sitting in. A book slid from his hands and thudded against the floor, forgotten as he stared at Jaina, then at Thrall as the Warchief ducked through the door and closed it after him.

    “Good evening, Admiral,” Thrall said.

    “Ah- good evening.” Tandred cleared his throat and gave his sister a tight, confused look. “Jaina…?”

    “This was found in Tiragarde Keep,” she said, thrusting the letter into his hands.

    “Tiragarde-” Tandred started, but fell silent as he glanced down at the paper.

    His eyes widened and brow furrowed as he read. That disturbed look remained as he looked up at Jaina, then turned towards Thrall.

    “You could have brought this up with me earlier today…” Tandred said, in a guarded tone.

    “Jaina did not help to convince you to meet me in public, just so I could accuse your men of staging an attack our lands,” Thrall calmly replied.

    Tandred scowled at the paper in his hand, then suddenly straightened up.

    “The soldiers stationed here have not reported to Kul Tiras in years,” he told Thrall. “What is the current situation?”

    “Tiragarde is not much more than a crumbling ruin,” Thrall replied and shook his head. “About two hundred soldiers stubbornly hold it, however.”

    “Two hundred?” Tandred said. He frowned up at the orc. “Warchief, if I may be so blunt, you could certainly overpower so few with ease, could you not?”

    “I could, Admiral,” Thrall replied in the same formal tone. “But I have not, out of mercy and a feeling that it might be seen a declaration of war by some in the Alliance. They have been an eyesore and annoyance, nothing else, and I felt it unnecessary to crush them. That seems to have been a mistake, judging by that letter.”

    Tandred rubbed his chin, staring at the report as he thought.

    “And in light of these news,” he finally said, looking up again, “what do you plan to do?”

    “There are voices demanding Tiragarde be leveled by the ground by our hands right away,” Thrall said. He watched Tandred steadily. “However, your sister’s and my marriage adds another political level to it. Especially since those soldiers by all accounts are rightfully yours, Admiral.”

    “You would let me deal with this, then?” Tandred paused, eyebrows twitching when Thrall nodded in reply. He gestured at the letter. “But I cannot guarantee that they answer to me, from what I’ve heard they are fanatical about fighting your people.”

    “Something must be done,” Thrall said. “I would prefer if a peaceful solution could at least be attempted before it comes to blows.”

    Tandred opened his mouth, then paused and seemed to reconsider. Then he slowly nodded.

    “I will contact Captain Waycrest, my second in command,” he said. “It will take a couple of days, but I will do my outmost to sort this out. Even if I may not have news before the celebration, I swear, it will not take long before I will have a proper overview of what actions should be taken.”

    “I appreciate your aid in this, truly.”

    Studying the orc for a moment, then glancing at Jaina, Tandred seemed to reach the conclusion that yes, the Warchief meant that.

    “Very well,” the Admiral finally said, and raised the letter slightly. “If I may keep this?”

    Thrall nodded again.

    “Certainly. And I ask pardon for intruding on your time so suddenly,” he replied.

    “It is no problem, considering the grave matter,” Tandred said, although the way he glanced between Thrall and Jaina showed how he had troubles reconciling this politeness with the huge orc.

    “Well then,” Jaina said, nodding to her brother as she reached out. Thrall moved his hand closer to hers as she did, until they touched. “I wish you a good night, Tandred.”

    “Good night…” he echoed, voice sounding just the little bit faint.

    Jaina quickly cast the spell and severed the awkward farewells by simply bringing Thrall and herself straight back to his chambers in Orgrimmar.

    “Thank the Light that that’s over,” Jaina breathed and rubbed her temples.

    Only now, in retrospect, she realized how tense she had been. It was a relief to pull the adorned pauldrons from her shoulders. She put them on a chair, then heavily sat down on the bed.

    An agreeing murmur, and a hard clattering of metal. With fingers so well honed in the movements that he could probably do it in his sleep, Thrall plucked at the straps of his armor. Bit by bit, the legendary gear came off his body and he placed all the pieces on the armor stand by the wall.

    In a way, it was strange seeing him undress, even though it wasn’t the first time. She could still count the times on one hand, though. Shedding the armor made him look a little shorter, but not by much. He was tall even for an orc, and his size remained imposing even when dressed only in the simple shirt and pants he wore beneath the protective gear.

    For a moment she pondered teleporting back to her own rooms in Theramore to change into her nightdress, but pushed it aside for now. It was not very late in the evening, and she was tired. Right now, she wanted to be here and breathe for a little while before she used magic again.

    She smiled when Thrall met her gaze, and he returned it, walking towards her on bare feet while pulling the shirt over his head. A moment later seated himself beside her, absentmindedly folding the piece of clothing before dropping it at the foot of the bed. All the time, he watched her. By now she was so used to seeing him shirtless that the vast amount of green skin with its many scars was merely gently familiar – as long as she did not begin to think about all the pain those scars must indicate.

    “Tandred is still shaken,” she commented, “but I think he feels a little less worried about me now, at least.”

    “And about the rest?” Thrall asked.

    “He will come to accept it.” She smiled, lowering her hands as she looked at him. “You confused him a good deal. I believe he still expected to be blamed for Tiragarde Keep until just now.”

    At that, Thrall just hummed and shook his head. Both of them knew that he would never have done that, of course.

    However, her eyes hardened again as she spoke.

    “You know those soldiers better than Tandred and I,” she said. “They aren’t going to listen to him, are they?”

    Thrall sighed.

    “I highly doubt they will,” he said. “But I feel better at least giving your brother, and diplomacy, a chance.”

    “Considering they aren’t loyal to my family anymore it may sound strange, but I’m glad you are willing to try.”

    “Of course.”

    He smiled, but they both left it unsaid that that it was hardly the strangest people he had given a chance of proving themselves.

    Unbeknownst to her, he also had no intention of letting Jaina know what the Kul Tiras soldiers in that crumbling fortress had taken to shouting at anybody coming within earshot. The people of Razor Hill were getting so fed up with the crazed insults aimed at “your traitor harlot of a queen” (that being some of the kinder words) that they accepted it as another reason to beat up any straying patrols. In a way, the orcs and trolls in the village were defending Jaina’s honor, and if things kept up they might even be proud to admit it – if just to annoy the human fanatics.

    But Jaina didn’t need to know anything about that. Anyway, he figured, holding back another sigh, she probably already knew by a guess.

    “I also have to admire his will to do anything about it,” Jaina said, tipping her head back to stare at the rough ceiling. “It won’t make him anymore popular with the Alliance, but…”

    She paused, then continued although she still didn’t look at Thrall.

    “In the long run, this might not change anything about that. No matter what Tandred does, Kul Tiras will lose even more standing in the Alliance, just because he was here and didn’t talk me into breaking up this union.”

    She was talking to herself as much as with Thrall. Sorting out thoughts. He simply hummed, recognizing what she was doing. After a few words, she leaned against him and he raised one hand to her back, silently inviting her to follow as he shifted further up on the bed. Jaina moved along with him, in the end resting her temple against his collarbone.

    “Oh, they knew it couldn’t be done, but I’m sure they put some last hope in Tandred,” she went on and sighed. “I told him I think King Bronzebeard might be talked into offering some support, though, Ironforge and Kul Tiras could use this to cut trading deals if only the dwarves- mrr…”

    Pinching the bridge of her nose, she slumped closer against Thrall’s bare chest. His body heat was inviting, but part of her mind noticed that he was a little tense.

    “It’s not my business to worry about the politics of Kul Tiras anymore,” she grunted, shaking her head. As Thrall’s thick, green arms reached around her, Jaina allowed herself a brief, childish fantasy of his embrace being able to ward off her own hollering thoughts. It didn’t work, but it was a momentary respite for her brain, at least. “Enough,” she murmured. “I have been a politician for too long today.”

    “Your brother is no fool, and he must be braver than your father if he dares to come to Orgrimmar to see me in person,” Thrall said. He growled, just as the words left his mouth. “No, I shouldn’t have brought him up. I’m sorry.”

    “No, no. You have a valid point.”

    Tandred’s and her father had been a living presence the whole day, painfully so. He’d had to be mentioned at some point. Now when it was done, Jaina found that it was actually a relief.

    She leaned back to meet the gaze from his blue eyes.

    “I’ve said it before, I don’t blame you,” she said. “I never blamed you.” Much as it hurt, and she had cried – no, she would not, could not, place the guilt on him.

    For a moment he said nothing, only looked at her with a mix of guilt and relief in his blue eyes. There was something more behind that, also, something soft and warm and familiar, and it finally blanketed the regret.

    “It must be painful having to be so brave,” he said, touching her shoulder like he had done every now and then for years.

    She would have shook her head, but it turned into a joyless little smile instead – because he knew, he knew exactly how it felt. She could have said something, but no suitable, no needed words came to mind. Instead she just met his gaze in silence.

    The way he watched her sent a hot thrill shivering down Jaina’s spine, chasing away the bitter smile from her face. She wet her lips and swallowed against the soft numbness filling her throat.

    Not until then did she realize that she kneeled on the mattress with his legs encircling her, just as his arms did. He seemed to realize it too judging by the small start, and moved as if to bring both of them out of the situation. When she pressed a hand to his chest, however, he stopped and looked at her.

    Neither of them moved, watching each other. Breathing. Waiting.

    “But you are still nervous,” he finally said in a rumbling murmur.

    In the silence, she nodded her head slowly.

    Every sound grew loud in that atmosphere, so that the brush of Jaina’s knees against the mattress rung in their ears. It was brief, she shifted and raised her arms to reach his face. Soft, pink fingertips against coarse, green skin, a crisp whisper of touch.

    “I don’t think I’ll ever stop being nervous until we’ve passed this obstacle.” She brushed her thumb against his cheek, and added, “and neither will you.”

    He leant forwards then, and pressed his lips to her forehead. Not very soft, but strong and warm, and the rough texture of his tusks against her skin made her tremble in anxious anticipation. A runaway thought pointed out that that was not a very sane reaction to a simple kiss filled with fangs.



    Maybe I should do something about that alliteration...

    I don't do write sex scenes, which I'm sure is going to be a disappointment to some of my ff.net reviewers, heh (still love ya though). I'm just gonna try to make the next bit not vomit-inducingly cute... I've gotten a stamp of approval from a writer whose taste I trust, for the bits and pieces I have, though. Just gotta glue 'em together.
    New fanfic quote:

    "I am indeed a spy, milord, but not for the enemies of Mordor or the Master. Instead, I serve a different master, a group called the Protectors of the Plot Continuum. Milord, have you ever heard of 'fanfiction'?"
    "Aye. A particularly odious form of sorcery, by all accounts."
    /.../
    "Yes. And have you heard of 'fangirls'?"
    "They are but a legend! A fearful legend, but a legend nonetheless."
    -Architeuthis of the Protectors of the Plot Continuum and High Nazgul of the Ringwraiths
    From "Intelligence Briefs for the PPC: The Beginning" by Architeuthis


    Quote Originally Posted by darkling
    Orochimaru has joined the Baby-Sitter's Club.

  5. #155
    Lone wanderer in infinity Manus Dei's Avatar
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    It's good to see you're still going at it. As for the matter of sex scenes, well, it's probably for the best. I don't know if I could properly write those myself either.
    "By dreaming, we transcend and surpass simple life and the boundaries of time and space, touching the essence of eternity. Our dreams release us from the shackles of daily life and sometimes empower us to change reality."

    -- Memories of a Guardian


  6. #156
    Alpha-Female of the RPGC Staff Weiila's Avatar
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    You bet your creativity I'm still at it ;) I'll be a BNF yet! ... wait, I don't want to be a BNF. *brrr!*

    Hoookay, here we go...


    Straightening, he met her gaze again and stroke a big, green thumb over her cheek, like a mirror of Jaina’s movement.

    “Tell me at any time, if you feel uncomfortable,” he said, watching her earnestly. Even though those words should have been spoken by somebody who felt more secure than the one spoken to, there was an underlying note of honest worry in his voice. No warm emotion, common ground or amount of respect for each other could take away the fact of their physical differences. It was what they had to find out the truth about, now.

    She nodded again, mouthing “I will”, but only part of that received any voice. Her fingers slipped away from Thrall, to pick at the thin straps holding the halves of her cloth chest piece together. The vest slid downwards with ease, and the sleeves were so wide that she could shake her arms free with a few quick twitches. As it fell towards the mattress behind her, the cloth tickled her bare skin. Glancing away, Jaina reached back and flicked the discarded cloth aside.

    At first, she felt a stitching instinct to move an arm to cover her chest. She had not been naked before a man since Arthas, and that made her feel even more self-conscious in this delicate moment. At the same time, deep down she felt suddenly grateful to have some experience – in stark contrast to the years she had spent regretting her youthful breach of noble lady morals.

    Suppressing that coy instinct she raised her hands to Thrall’s chest instead. He watched her face, that faint, soft smile still on his huge lips. As if he had just waited for the touch of her fingertips against his skin, he didn’t move until then. His hand slipped away from cupping her cheek, to her shoulder, where he let it rest for a moment before continuing.

    Arthas had been experienced and confident, skillfully caressing with a gentleness to make her feel safe and loved. She loved him too, at that time. This was different, it couldn’t be anything but different, but not in a bad way. Where Arthas had played his fingers across her body, knowing just what everything would do to her, Thrall moved slowly. Exploring.

    Jaina leaned back against his other arm, leaving herself open to his touch. Green fingers almost as thick as her wrist brushed, caressed her skin and she melted against his warmth. He did know what he was doing, she could tell, but at the same time there was a sense of curiosity. It was all familiar and foreign to both of them.

    Their eyes met and she smiled, a soft breath escaping her when his hand moved on.

    For a moment she wondered if this was anything to him like how a shaman seeks connection to the elements. The thought seemed so strange to her overheated brain that she let hear a short breathless laugh, which returned when Thrall quirked an eyebrow at her.

    “What?” he asked, sounding amused too, smitten by her silly grin.

    The last thought fluttered away, and she latched onto the next one to have something to reply with.

    “Feels as if we’re breaking new land, again,” she said, still breathless. The grin just wouldn’t let go, even though the sentence sounded like gibberish once she spoke it. Was she tipsy from the wine she’d had with Tandred? No, couldn’t be, it was too long ago.

    Although Thrall tilted his head a little bit, his amused look didn’t falter into a confused one. So he might be able to find some semblance of logic in her claim.

    “At least there aren’t any quilboars this time,” he commented.

    They stared at each other for a second, before the absurdity of what they had both said overcame them. Jaina crumbled against Thrall’s chest, his mighty chuckles rumbling at her cheek and hands while she too laughed.

    “And thank the Light for that!” Jaina managed between chortles, which only made it worse. Shaking with mirth Thrall pulled her closer and she pressed her forehead to his collarbone.

    It took several moments to recover, but finally Thrall sat back and wiped his eyes.

    “How silly…” Jaina gasped, smiling and mimicking him. “I’m sorry.”

    “No, no. Hah!”

    He tipped his head back, loudly exhaling. His black hair cascaded behind him, causing a whispering rustle as he straightened again. Still grinning. The wide smile softened as he watched her though, and Jaina felt her own face relax as well.

    Ridiculous as that had been, it certainly made the air lighter.

    Stretching upwards, Jaina reached around Thrall’s neck. His hair tickled her arms, and she carefully brushed her lips against his, keeping his tusks in mind. It felt rather odd doing that, his mouth was simply too large for it. Odd, but not wrong.

    She sunk back, and one of his hands came to meet her, warm against her shoulder blades. With his other hand he braced himself against the mattress when Jaina continued backwards until she laid down, smiling up at Thrall as he followed her.

    Foreheads brushing, gently, slowly.

    No more politics today.
    New fanfic quote:

    "I am indeed a spy, milord, but not for the enemies of Mordor or the Master. Instead, I serve a different master, a group called the Protectors of the Plot Continuum. Milord, have you ever heard of 'fanfiction'?"
    "Aye. A particularly odious form of sorcery, by all accounts."
    /.../
    "Yes. And have you heard of 'fangirls'?"
    "They are but a legend! A fearful legend, but a legend nonetheless."
    -Architeuthis of the Protectors of the Plot Continuum and High Nazgul of the Ringwraiths
    From "Intelligence Briefs for the PPC: The Beginning" by Architeuthis


    Quote Originally Posted by darkling
    Orochimaru has joined the Baby-Sitter's Club.

  7. #157
    Lone wanderer in infinity Manus Dei's Avatar
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    Somehow, I think some of your fans will be outraged and demand something more graphic. :P This is good enough as far as I'm concerned though.
    "By dreaming, we transcend and surpass simple life and the boundaries of time and space, touching the essence of eternity. Our dreams release us from the shackles of daily life and sometimes empower us to change reality."

    -- Memories of a Guardian


  8. #158
    (Not Actually Cool) GG Crono's Avatar
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    “We are talking about peace that have seemed impossible."
    “What has the Eastern Kingdoms done for you, lately?”
    Might want to fix those.

    That said, good couple of chapters. There's a lot to be said for a well-placed fade to black. ;)

  9. #159
    Alpha-Female of the RPGC Staff Weiila's Avatar
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    Will fix, and thanks GG :)

    Manus: Quoth the Yathzee: "Fans are clingy, complaining-" nah, I don't hate my fans XD Except for the odd one who tries to give me inane plot ideas. Like that one who wanted to have a SD2 fic where the plot was that Kevin got slapped up the head for looking at Angela's breasts.
    New fanfic quote:

    "I am indeed a spy, milord, but not for the enemies of Mordor or the Master. Instead, I serve a different master, a group called the Protectors of the Plot Continuum. Milord, have you ever heard of 'fanfiction'?"
    "Aye. A particularly odious form of sorcery, by all accounts."
    /.../
    "Yes. And have you heard of 'fangirls'?"
    "They are but a legend! A fearful legend, but a legend nonetheless."
    -Architeuthis of the Protectors of the Plot Continuum and High Nazgul of the Ringwraiths
    From "Intelligence Briefs for the PPC: The Beginning" by Architeuthis


    Quote Originally Posted by darkling
    Orochimaru has joined the Baby-Sitter's Club.

  10. #160
    Double Trouble Rigmarole's Avatar
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    Quote Originally Posted by Weiila
    Even though those words should have been spoken by somebody who felt more secure than the one spoken to, there was an underlying note of honest worry in his voice.
    Rephrase?

    For a moment she wondered if this was anything to him like how a shaman seeks connection to the elements. The thought seemed so strange to her overheated brain that she let hear a short breathless laugh, which returned when Thrall quirked an eyebrow at her.
    This is probably the turning point for this part of the fic, Jaina & Thrall, the author and the reader. It's a clever way to set the new mood and prepare the way out, escaping from the initial awkwardness. Good idea.

    edit: That SD example must have made an impression on you, judging by the few times you've mentioned it ;)
    She sensed intelligence behind this rigmarole, but it was meaningless to her.

    ...those who regard me as effete, arrogant, distanced. [Interviewer: All of which is true, of course.] [Banville:] Of course!

  11. #161
    Alpha-Female of the RPGC Staff Weiila's Avatar
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    Phrase rewritten completely in final draft ;)

    My best friend once mused on the fact that smex in fanfics always is so goshdarn angsty, when in reality, in her view, it's ridiculous and hilarious half the time. Hence why they start laughing.

    Oh sheez, well... it was horrible, yanno. But I've got a more recent one too. Some of you might have read my very silly Jak and Daxter Mermaids comic. I made this comment unreadable by others with dA's Hide Comment function, for the sake of this... er... thing.

    HIYA!!!! I lov ur comics but....u know wat u should do....MAKE JAK SCREW THE LIFE OUT OF TORN!!!! TORN SHOULD BECOME JAK'S LITTLE F*** TOY!!!! I SWEAR TORN IS UKE DAMMIT UKE!!!!!! pant...pant.....sry...yaoi-fangirl-overdose ehehe
    mommy help
    Last edited by Weiila; 05-24-2009 at 02:40 PM.
    New fanfic quote:

    "I am indeed a spy, milord, but not for the enemies of Mordor or the Master. Instead, I serve a different master, a group called the Protectors of the Plot Continuum. Milord, have you ever heard of 'fanfiction'?"
    "Aye. A particularly odious form of sorcery, by all accounts."
    /.../
    "Yes. And have you heard of 'fangirls'?"
    "They are but a legend! A fearful legend, but a legend nonetheless."
    -Architeuthis of the Protectors of the Plot Continuum and High Nazgul of the Ringwraiths
    From "Intelligence Briefs for the PPC: The Beginning" by Architeuthis


    Quote Originally Posted by darkling
    Orochimaru has joined the Baby-Sitter's Club.

  12. #162
    (Not Actually Cool) GG Crono's Avatar
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    Here, take my Idiot Repellent. *hands you a 2x6 with a nail in it*

  13. #163
    Mr. Molecule Khalbrae's Avatar
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    Quote Originally Posted by Weiila View Post
    Spoiler: Thrall's real name is Go'el? GO'EL? I get that it means "to redeem" [from slavery], but it sounds like the name of some kind of Star Warsian ball game. Also like a northern Swede complimenting good electricity.
    Spoiler: Well... that just seems like a shortened version of "Go to Hell"

  14. #164
    Double Trouble Rigmarole's Avatar
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    ehehe
    ehehe, (must be) the sure sign of an insane mind.
    She sensed intelligence behind this rigmarole, but it was meaningless to her.

    ...those who regard me as effete, arrogant, distanced. [Interviewer: All of which is true, of course.] [Banville:] Of course!

  15. #165
    Alpha-Female of the RPGC Staff Weiila's Avatar
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    I r tired and has a cold. But I have several days off ahead of me. Let's celebrate :3


    Silky rays of moonlight shone through the cracks in the wooden window covers. On the other end of the large room, the flame in an oil lamp flickered, casting its warm glow.

    It was an easy, lazy silence that filled the shared space.

    Cloth and furs rustled slightly as Thrall pulled the blanket further up over Jaina’s shoulders. She smiled, though he could only see it vaguely from the corner of his eye, with her temple resting against his collarbone. Letting go of the blanket, he reached below it and placed his hand against her bare back, joining the arm already encircling her.

    He didn’t feel inclined to move any more than that, nor did he want to speak. This was enough. Just their breathing, and her warm, soft body sprawled over his. Seconds trailed past, and they both let the time pass.

    Still, there was a subject that dredged itself up in Thrall’s consciousness even as he struggled to keep it down. He didn’t want to think about it, didn’t want to speak of it, but it was there and demanding attention, intruding on their peace.

    In the end, it was Jaina who took it upon herself. She broke the silence with a soft sigh, idly stroking her hand over his chest.

    “I don’t want to bring up a troubling subject, but, that thing I said when your grandmother asked if I could bear an orc child…”

    She trailed off, and Thrall nodded slowly, shifting his grip of her.

    Half-orcs were hardly known for being the most careful, wise members of society – even brasher and louder than full orcs, seemingly always haunted by a real or perceived feeling of inadequacy. That desperate need to prove themselves to the people around them chased many of them into an early grave.

    That fear for Jaina’s and his child, that alone was staggering. Even worse for a half-orc who grew up under the weight of, as she had said some days ago, the legends about such parents. Had he or Jaina married one of their own kind, those children would have suffered the same weight of legacy. Yet, a child of mixed blood would have a double burden.

    “We can only try to raise them to have faith in themselves,” he murmured.

    She nodded, but as he stroke her back he very well knew that the same feeling of sizzling, dreadful worry filled her.

    “Will Theramore accept such an heir?” he said in a low voice.

    Jaina bowed her head, hair tickling his skin as lightly as a breath.

    “Tandred said something of the sort,” she mumbled. “I doubt it. At least, for now.” She straightened, pushing herself up to look him in the eye. “We better wait for a few years and let everyone get used to this whole situation, first.”

    He almost smiled, but only almost.

    “You needn’t look so worried,” he said and touched her cheek. “I would have suggested as much myself, had you not said it.”

    Still a spark of relief flashed in her eyes as she nodded and sunk back down. Thrall moved his hand down to her shoulder, stroking it with his thumb. Their children would have a hard enough time. The best thing that could be done for them, was to prevent them from being conceived before the world was better prepared for them.

    So occupied was his mind with those concerns that he did not connect the facts until Jaina’s arms squeezed his neck. He blinked, and then that smile broke through, much warmer than it would have been moments before.

    Shifting his grip again he held her close, and she softly hummed, smiling, to confirm that yes, she was no longer nervous.

    They laid in silence for a few moments, until Jaina spoke again.

    “But, what of the Horde, will they accept it? It’s so much more than just Theramore.”

    Thrall stared at the ceiling, lips drawing back from his clenching fangs.

    “My heir will have to prove himself no matter who he is,” he said, sighing.

    With a low groan, Jaina tightened her arms around his neck and he squeezed her in return. That was just the kind of thinking that killed so many youngsters, of all races. Thrall grit his teeth and took in a deep breath.

    “Perhaps we shouldn’t fret too much about this preemptively,” he murmured. “We have enough worries already.”

    “Yes,” Jaina agreed, relaxing slightly. “But we ought to talk about it.”

    “True. That and all the other things that make us nervous.” The echo of his own and her words hung in the air between them. Jaina quirked an eyebrow, lips twitching.

    “Are you joking with me, Go’el?” she asked.

    He grinned at her when she heaved herself up on her arms once more.

    “I’ve never made a joke in my life,” he said.

    “Is it cause for capital punishment to tell the Warchief that he’s being silly?” Saying so, she did something uncharacteristically silly herself, and kissed his nose.

    “Depends on if you can defend your atrocious actions.”

    As they both chuckled, he enclosed her in his arms again.

    There was something else about his role as leader that greatly concerned him, but he did not want to add to her fears right then. Later he would have to explain, but now was certainly not the time.

    He might be in a secure position now, revered as the Warchief and war hero, but orcish laws remained based on strength. Someday, somebody would challenge him for the leadership, and Thrall was not fool enough to think himself invincible.

    ‘-‘

    A messenger arrived as the sun rose above the horizon. An orc with brown skin, bearing a brief announcement.

    The whispers started then. They poured from Grommash Hold and swept throughout the city still reeling from the shock of their Warchief’s recent decisions. This, however, was something completely different. This was orc business, something familiar. They had already been granted the visit of the Warchief’s grandmother, and now they were told another Mag’har approached. A budding legend.

    Hellscream comes.



    oh snap


    And I am going to get lynched because Thrall and Jaina are talking about icky icky OMG contraceptives, y/y? :P
    New fanfic quote:

    "I am indeed a spy, milord, but not for the enemies of Mordor or the Master. Instead, I serve a different master, a group called the Protectors of the Plot Continuum. Milord, have you ever heard of 'fanfiction'?"
    "Aye. A particularly odious form of sorcery, by all accounts."
    /.../
    "Yes. And have you heard of 'fangirls'?"
    "They are but a legend! A fearful legend, but a legend nonetheless."
    -Architeuthis of the Protectors of the Plot Continuum and High Nazgul of the Ringwraiths
    From "Intelligence Briefs for the PPC: The Beginning" by Architeuthis


    Quote Originally Posted by darkling
    Orochimaru has joined the Baby-Sitter's Club.

  16. #166
    Double Trouble Rigmarole's Avatar
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    Cold n tired? Literature prescribes bread, honey and clotted cream for the first, lot of sleep for the second. Probably double size, as you're 2x a hobbit.

    He didn’t feel inclined to move any more than that, nor did he want to speak.
    It'd be probably be better if you kept one of the two verbs.

    “I don’t want to bring up a troubling subject, but, that thing I said when your grandmother asked if I could bear an orc child…”
    This dialogue doesn't strike me as too realistic. The "troubling subject" intor, mainly.
    “We can only try to raise them to have faith in themselves,” he murmured.
    Nice touch of heroic stoicism there.

    “Is it cause for capital punishment to tell the Warchief that he’s being silly?” Saying so, she did something uncharacteristically silly herself, and kissed his nose.
    Uncharacteristically silly bus me a little. It's as if the narrator says "lolsilly" rather than describe it in a way that shows teh silly.
    “Depends on if you can defend your atrocious actions.”
    Heh.

    He might be in a secure position now, revered as the Warchief and war hero, but orcish laws remained based on strength. Someday, somebody would challenge him for the leadership, and Thrall was not fool enough to think himself invincible.
    That's a good long-term challenge. It may never come up again, but it's nice of you showing there are worries other than the imminent ones.

    A messenger arrived as the sun rose above the horizon. An orc with brown skin, bearing a brief announcement.

    The whispers started then.
    Put then at the beginning of the sentence?


    So, how long is edit:Wizard Warlock and the Beast now?

    edit: 70.000 words, eh? Novel-length.
    Quote Originally Posted by ffWeiila
    Also I have the summary firmly in mind
    Good idea. Out of curiosity, do you have a summary of Diplomacy as well?
    Last edited by Rigmarole; 06-13-2009 at 05:35 PM. Reason: prescribes. pre-
    She sensed intelligence behind this rigmarole, but it was meaningless to her.

    ...those who regard me as effete, arrogant, distanced. [Interviewer: All of which is true, of course.] [Banville:] Of course!

  17. #167
    Alpha-Female of the RPGC Staff Weiila's Avatar
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    Naw, I had a cold, but it's as good as gone now. Which is good because I work tomorrow again ^_^

    It's 104 pages where we're at right now. This is going to be a rather short chapter, but it's pretty packed and it'll have a cliffhanger that'll make people want to maul me :D

    The summary for Diplomacy is "There is an age-old trick to ensure peace between two nations, promising lasting peace. However, one must be aware that a union between Horde and Alliance would cause quite a stir. And it does."
    New fanfic quote:

    "I am indeed a spy, milord, but not for the enemies of Mordor or the Master. Instead, I serve a different master, a group called the Protectors of the Plot Continuum. Milord, have you ever heard of 'fanfiction'?"
    "Aye. A particularly odious form of sorcery, by all accounts."
    /.../
    "Yes. And have you heard of 'fangirls'?"
    "They are but a legend! A fearful legend, but a legend nonetheless."
    -Architeuthis of the Protectors of the Plot Continuum and High Nazgul of the Ringwraiths
    From "Intelligence Briefs for the PPC: The Beginning" by Architeuthis


    Quote Originally Posted by darkling
    Orochimaru has joined the Baby-Sitter's Club.

  18. #168
    Double Trouble Rigmarole's Avatar
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    That's not so much a summary as a blurb ;) Do you know how the story goes on and till when?
    She sensed intelligence behind this rigmarole, but it was meaningless to her.

    ...those who regard me as effete, arrogant, distanced. [Interviewer: All of which is true, of course.] [Banville:] Of course!

  19. #169
    Alpha-Female of the RPGC Staff Weiila's Avatar
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    Ah, I misunderstood what you meant with summary XD Yeah, I know what we've got left and where it's going. Should be two or three chapters left, and an epilogue. Huh. I've been writing this for just over a year now.
    New fanfic quote:

    "I am indeed a spy, milord, but not for the enemies of Mordor or the Master. Instead, I serve a different master, a group called the Protectors of the Plot Continuum. Milord, have you ever heard of 'fanfiction'?"
    "Aye. A particularly odious form of sorcery, by all accounts."
    /.../
    "Yes. And have you heard of 'fangirls'?"
    "They are but a legend! A fearful legend, but a legend nonetheless."
    -Architeuthis of the Protectors of the Plot Continuum and High Nazgul of the Ringwraiths
    From "Intelligence Briefs for the PPC: The Beginning" by Architeuthis


    Quote Originally Posted by darkling
    Orochimaru has joined the Baby-Sitter's Club.

  20. #170
    Alpha-Female of the RPGC Staff Weiila's Avatar
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    Aaaalrighty then. Aaaare you ready to ruuumble?



    A short while later they entered through a portal just like Greatmother Geyah had done. A small troop of Mag’har, led by Garrosh Hellscream, shown the way by Kor’kron Elites trying very hard not to exchange glances along the way.

    People lined the streets, muttering amongst each other. Many frowned in worry, some snickered, others made playful, nervous bets about where this was going. The reactions all came from taking one single look at the expression on Garrosh’s face.

    Thrall saw it too, vaguely as soon as the warriors entered Grommash Hold and walked towards him. His good mood evaporated like sweet smoke.

    The sound of armor clanging was almost deafening, until the Kor’krons hurriedly stepped away to get out of the line of fire. They had to restrain themselves, though, feeling like they ought to stand between the throne and the visitors. That would have sent a rude message to the Mag’har, however, and the guards weren’t so bold as to risk that without being ordered to.

    The air seemed to crackle as the Warchief met the glare of his honor brother’s son.

    “If you have a great concern,” Thrall said, but there was a dangerous note in his voice, “I welcome you speaking without restraint.”

    Garrosh’s face only moved as much as he had to, in order to take in a deep breath. Many hands in the hall twitched, instinctively wanting to fly up and cover their owners’ ears. Looking at Garrosh’s expression, nobody could doubt what would come next.

    To say that the young Hellscream simply “spoke” would be a gross understatement.

    “Has everyone gone mad?!”

    As he struggled against the wish to rub his ears to fight the ringing in them, Thrall inwardly sighed.

    This, oh this would be difficult.

    He came to think so over and over again during the following discussion in one of the council rooms, together with Saurfang, Drek’Thar and Vol’jin. Out of view from everyone else, the troll was the first to toss pride out the window and pointedly cover his ears the second time Garrosh’s temper grew stronger than his judgment of volume.

    In all honesty, it was not so much a “discussion” as a barely controlled shouting match.

    “And did growing up among humans strip you of all respect for our ancient traditions, Warchief?” Garrosh snarled, slamming his fist into the table in the center of the room. The piece of furniture shook, but at least did not crack down the middle. “I thought the recount of your mating ceremony must be a joke, and now I’m told that–”

    “If you cannot speak at a civilized volume, Hellscream, I refuse to take part in this meeting at all,” Drek’Thar icily said, folding his arms. “I would prefer to not lose my sense of hearing as well.”

    “And I will not stand for you insulting me,” Thrall snarled, his last shreds of self-control shattering. “If you cannot bring up anything constructive, there’s no reason for us to waste time here.”

    Garrosh snarled, but after staring back into Thrall’s eyes for a moment he grunted and folded his arms.

    “Greatmother Geyah said she couldn’t find any fault with your human,” he said slowly, obviously loath to admit it. The way he said ‘human,’ though, was laced with barely subdued disdain.

    Thrall, who had braced himself for a direct insult aimed at Jaina, and felt unsure if he would be able to keep from punching Garrosh in the face, very carefully relaxed the tiniest bit. He wondered if his grandmother had spoken with Garrosh to mind himself. If so, it finally seemed to have some effect.

    “No, she didn’t,” Thrall replied in a guarded tone.

    Vol’jin and Saurfang exchanged glances, only now finding out that the two women had met.

    For another moment Garrosh glared at Thrall, fingers rapping loudly against his gauntlet. His lips twitched as if he was about to speak but stopped himself. Then, finally he grumbled his question.

    “But why a human? There must be many among our people who oppose the match.”

    “As many as among her people.” Thrall continued to regard Garrosh with a guarded mindset. “Her brother was convinced I had forced her into it.”

    A look of confusion passed over Garrosh’s angry features, confusion that somebody could think a woman would have to be coerced to be the Warchief’s mate. He saw only the great honor it entailed to be offered such a role in life. Thrall wasn’t sure what to feel about the look on the younger orc’s face.

    “These politics seem to be more complicated than they need to be,” Garrosh finally said.

    “Starting a fight is easy,” Thrall said. “Ending it is more difficult.”

    Garrosh shrugged his mighty shoulders. Judging by the look of him, he probably didn’t see how it could be more complicated than simply killing all the enemies. For a moment Thrall closed his eyes against the bristle of annoyance. He moved his thoughts to the image of Jaina’s hair spread over the pillow, gleaming in the light of the flickering oil lamp. The look in her eyes as she reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck, the way she smiled when he touched her face.

    The frustration ran off him and he looked up again.

    “On that matter, I would like to tell you why I called you here,” Thrall said, although he honestly wondered if he really wanted to ruin Garrosh’s hard-won composure.

    For a moment the Mag’har looked like he would protest, but let it rest. The inflamed subject was dropped for now – only to be replaced by another.

    “You have heard reports about the battles in Warsong Gulch, I assume,” Thrall said, and Garrosh nodded. “I have been discussing the matter with the night elven leader and we agree that we should both withdraw–“ watching the look on Garrosh’s face change, the Warchief clenched his teeth. In the background, Vol’jin pressed his hands over his long ears again, and Drek’Thar wisely raised his hands for the same reason. Saurfang’s pride kept him from doing the same, regrettably. Thrall had the same handicap. “… our troops until we can come to a–”

    He gave up and paused, rolling his eyes upwards in exasperation at Garrosh’s reaction.

    WHAT?”

    And then it was no longer a discussion at all.

    The other three in the room stood by, exasperated and helpless. It would be a poor Warchief who needed support against one single opponent, all of them knew that. So Saurfang, Vol’jin and Drek’Thar could really only watch and listen as Thrall and Garrosh shouted at each other.

    “My father would roll in his grave!” Garrosh roared. The irony in him now honoring his father’s memory, when he had been ashamed of him mere months ago, flew past in the rage. “To give an inch–!”

    “The fighting has made the gulch useless!” Thrall shouted back. “Nobody gets anything from it, neither side has buckled since they began struggling!”

    “Then we should increase troops until it’s ours! Withdrawing is an insult to all orcs!”

    “Even if we won, the elves would keep raiding the gulch. We can’t spare the troops to safeguard it!”

    “So you say we run and let them have it?”

    “The Cenarion Circle are–”

    “This is an offense to all–!”

    “This is not Draenor!” Thrall’s armored fingertip met Garrosh’s chest piece with a hard clank. “Are you questioning my–”

    A knock on the door cut him off.

    “What?” Thrall and Garrosh both snarled, whirling towards the disruption.

    A female Kor’kron Elite cautiously poked her head in, obviously not happy about putting herself in this particular line of fire.

    “Warchief…” she started, then cleared her throat and stared straight ahead. “A messenger from the Undercity wishes to speak with you. He says that it’s very important.”

    Thrall hesitated for a moment. He felt no desire to back out of the argument before it was won, but the rational part of him knew that it would take a long time to convince Garrosh. With their tempers flaring, it would only take longer. It might simply be for the best to give both of them a chance to cool off.

    “Very well,” he said and cast a cold glance at Garrosh, who glared back. “We will continue speaking of this later.”

    Garrosh simply grunted.

    It felt like a relief to leave the council chamber and return to the throne room. Then again, Thrall was darkly aware that Sylvanas would not call anything “very important” unless it truly was. On the other hand, he figured, it could not be more frustrating and painful than arguing with Grom’s son.

    And just like countless others, the Warchief would soon realize that thinking such things was to invite disaster with open arms.

    ‘-‘

    The whole day, Jaina had felt as if a weight had dropped from her shoulders. Only now in retrospect, she realized how much the anxiety had slowly built up within her. Had it gone on longer, it might have turned to fear. She was more relieved than she could say, to have abolished it.

    Rather annoying, on the other hand, was the way she could swear Aegwynn glanced at her more than once, with a fond, yet shrewd expression. The sorceress had certainly caught the absentminded smile on Jaina’s lips when they met that morning, before the much younger woman managed to wipe it off.

    As she listened to reports and petitions in the throne room now, Jaina found her thoughts shamelessly wandering for brief moments. Her control over her own mind never slipped for long, thankfully, and so she didn’t miss much.

    When a guard announced that Messenger Ta’sih of Orgrimmar had arrived, however, Jaina snapped to full attention.

    The female troll mage, when she walked in, didn’t have the same relaxed swagger in her step as when she had walked in the first time a couple of days ago, with the letter from Cairne Bloodhoof.

    “Welcome back.” Jaina frowned and slightly tilted her head as she noticed the uneasy look on the troll’s face. “Is something the matter?”

    “Ah well, mah Lady…” Ta’sih said, saluting and bowing her head. “Ah bear no lettah today. Da Warchief told me ta ask ye ta come ta Grommash Hold.”

    “I see,” Jaina said. She tried not to let her frown deepen. It was probably not simple politeness from Thrall to not simply use their runestones to summon her. The look on the troll’s face was worrisome, too. “What is the reason for this?”

    The troll straightened up, pursing her lips.

    “Lady Sylvanas wants ta speak with both of ya,” she said.

    Jaina blinked, and she heard the guards by the door gasp. Aegwynn narrowed her eyes, scowling. Shaking her head quickly, Ta’sih raised both hands.

    “Da Warchief said, he dun wanna force ya, mah Lady, he’da nevah do dat.”

    “I know he wouldn’t,” Jaina said, without thinking.

    She nervously wet her lips. Facing Sylvanas was not something she had looked forwards to, although she had known it would have to happen at some point. Still, no matter what Thrall said about this being a free choice, he had to know as well as Jaina did that there could be no backing out.

    Nodding, she looked to Aegwynn, knowing the guards watched her uneasily. She could sympathize with them quite well.

    “You can handle matters here for a little while, then,” Jaina said, and the chamberlain grimly nodded.

    Jaina squared her jaw and turned to the guards by the door.

    “Call Emissary Southstone and five Elite Guards,” she said. “The emissary may bring his own personal escort.”

    Thrall would not have sent her a summons this way if he didn’t mean for it to be a formal meeting. With Sir Dunhave and Lord Lor’themar, neither of them had been prepared beforehand. This was different.

    It didn’t take long for the guards to arrive to the throne room, soon followed by emissary Southstone. Tension mounted in the air as the Elites saluted with stiff motions. Even Thomas, who normally would look thrilled over a chance to visit Orgrimmar, nervously picked at his silver grey robes. Beside him, his aide Simon Nebula shifted weight from foot to foot – having his own personal reasons to dread facing anything that had to do with Forsaken. The only one who seemed fairly unconcerned was the other, blond man by Thomas’ side, wearing leather armor emblazoned with Theramore’s golden anchor. He stared straight ahead, face impassive. But then, Jaina remembered that Thomas had mentioned that his friend turned guardian, Collins, was a master at hiding his emotions.

    She realized that she thought about all this because she didn’t really want to think about meeting Lady Sylvanas.

    “Are we expected to arrive in Grommash Hold?” she asked Ta’sih, just to make sure before she teleported a small troop right in.

    “Yes, mah Lady,” the troll replied with a stiff nod.

    Taking in a deep breath, Jaina raised her hand and focused.

    “Then, everyone, we’re going,” she said.

    “Yes, my Lady,” eight voices replied, with various levels of success at hiding their apprehension.

    The throne room of Theramore flashed away, only to be replaced with another. Jaina’s eyes darted to meet Thrall’s gaze. It was easy enough, as she and the others had appeared just beneath the steps to his throne. He scowled, but it eased when he saw her.

    “Warchief,” Ta’sih nervously said and saluted before stepping away as soon as he nodded.

    “Welcome back,” Thrall said.

    He held out his hand, palm up, in a silent gesture. Jaina caught on and walked up the stairs alone, laying her hand in his for a moment before stepping up beside him. As the Warchief indicated at them to do so, the other humans moved to the side.

    The various members of the Horde gathered in the hall, from messengers to guards, watched the humans intently. The atmosphere felt less hostile than it had done when Tandred visited. Instead, the tension had an almost just as unpleasantly smug note, expectant of how the Dark Lady would press the humans.

    “She won’t be here in person,” Thrall murmured, and his thumb brushed Jaina’s hand before releasing her.

    Jaina allowed herself a small, silent breath of relief. In a diplomatic sense, she shouldn’t feel relieved at not having to meet with such an important person, but she couldn’t help it – nor could she blame herself.

    “Emissary,” Thrall said in a louder, neutral voice.

    “Yes, Warchief,” a hoarse voice replied.

    A Forsaken mage stepped forwards from the sidelines, moving to stand a few feet away from the foot of the stair. He bowed, before straightening as much as his back allowed. Jaina clenched her teeth under the amused glare from the yellow, glowing eyes. She was grateful for Thrall’s steadying presence.

    “I will be bringing forth Lady Sylvanas image,” the Forsaken man announced. This surely brought the same relief to Thomas and the others, as Jaina had just felt when Thrall eased her tension. presence,

    The mage raised his hands. Just as when Lord Lor’themar had made his appearance through a magical illusion, light leapt from his skeletal hands and formed a circle on the floor. From it rose a half transparent, pale blood elf wearing dark leather armor and a bow slung over her shoulders. Unlike her Forsaken, Sylvanas’ eyes glowed red, merciless.

    “Warchief. Lady Proudmoore,” she said, her voice raspy and icy. She sounded bored.

    The hairs on Jaina’s neck rose, but she bowed her head in greeting – glad to for a moment look away.

    “Lady Sylvanas,” she said, her voice as neutral as she could make it.

    “You had something you wanted to tell us?” Thrall said, nodding briefly.

    “In a way, yes.” Sylvanas paused. “The truth is, I am not the one having something to tell the two of you.”

    Jaina frowned, and she heard Thrall shift his weight beside her.

    “What is the meaning of this, then?” he asked, and there was a dangerous tone in his voice. He was apparently not amused by the Dark Lady’s little game, whatever it was, and Jaina fully agreed.

    “Believe me, I am not thrilled to be used as a mediator between you and this particular… person,” Sylvanas said.

    Her lips twitched – either in a smirk or a purse of her mouth. Impossible to tell.

    “But,” she went on, “the fact of the matter is that the Lich King wishes to speak with you.”




    PARTY TIME! :D

    ... yeah, hate me.
    New fanfic quote:

    "I am indeed a spy, milord, but not for the enemies of Mordor or the Master. Instead, I serve a different master, a group called the Protectors of the Plot Continuum. Milord, have you ever heard of 'fanfiction'?"
    "Aye. A particularly odious form of sorcery, by all accounts."
    /.../
    "Yes. And have you heard of 'fangirls'?"
    "They are but a legend! A fearful legend, but a legend nonetheless."
    -Architeuthis of the Protectors of the Plot Continuum and High Nazgul of the Ringwraiths
    From "Intelligence Briefs for the PPC: The Beginning" by Architeuthis


    Quote Originally Posted by darkling
    Orochimaru has joined the Baby-Sitter's Club.

  21. #171
    Forsaken one
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    Good job guys!

  22. #172
    Double Trouble Rigmarole's Avatar
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    Quote Originally Posted by Weiila View Post
    Aaaalrighty then. Aaaare you ready to ruuumble?
    Not really. I'll get back to you :P
    She sensed intelligence behind this rigmarole, but it was meaningless to her.

    ...those who regard me as effete, arrogant, distanced. [Interviewer: All of which is true, of course.] [Banville:] Of course!

  23. #173
    Double Trouble Rigmarole's Avatar
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    Turns out a few days have passed, so by the power invested in me by the Lich King *summons 6 weak skeletons*. No, wait: *raises the thread from the grave*

    A small troop of Mag’har, led by Garrosh Hellscream, shown the way by Kor’kron Elites trying very hard not to exchange glances along the way.
    Add a verb describing what the troop's doing or they are going to stifle in the description ;)

    Try reworking the initial descriptive part (up to where the dialogue starts), as your voice seems still unsure there, using either too long (the first sentence asks for an active verb describing what the troop is doing for instance) or too short sentences. Perhaps focusing on the reactions of select people rather than of groups might help remove the feeling of "carpet-describing" the scene as in some did this, other did that. Once you start with the dialogue though, the fic picks up its rhythm.

    It felt like a relief to leave the council chamber and return to the throne room.
    Wasn't it actually relief? ;)

    The female troll mage ,when she walked in, didn’t have the same relaxed swagger in her step as when she had walked in the first time a couple of days ago, with the letter from Cairne Bloodhoof.
    It's clear from the context.

    Jaina blinked, and she heard the guards by the door gasp.
    Cliche alarm. Slightly reword it, so that the reader won't perceive it as a unit that needn't be processed e.g. and she heard a soft gasp from the direction of the guards.

    I also like the part where they the prospect of visiting Ogrimmar becomes visible.
    She sensed intelligence behind this rigmarole, but it was meaningless to her.

    ...those who regard me as effete, arrogant, distanced. [Interviewer: All of which is true, of course.] [Banville:] Of course!

  24. #174
    (Not Actually Cool) GG Crono's Avatar
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    Oh snap. :D

    Typo patrol go!

    ...“I will be bringing forth Lady Sylvanas image..."
    Forgot an apostrophe.

    And awaaaay!

  25. #175
    Alpha-Female of the RPGC Staff Weiila's Avatar
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    I've gotten some funny reviews on ff.net for this chapter :D I better update it soon to appease people's fears that Sylvanas is letting Lichy use her just like that. In reality, it's a long, agonizing process of... something that'll be pretty bizarre but amusing, I hope.

    Also there'll be Varimathras. I've found that he's HILARIOUS to write

    The most intruiging review so far is the one I got from the man himself, Sonic! It just said "SHUT UP." Man, that's just keeping me up at night. About what?

    Why do I get the urge to write when I'm at the 'rents and don't have my files with me? D:
    New fanfic quote:

    "I am indeed a spy, milord, but not for the enemies of Mordor or the Master. Instead, I serve a different master, a group called the Protectors of the Plot Continuum. Milord, have you ever heard of 'fanfiction'?"
    "Aye. A particularly odious form of sorcery, by all accounts."
    /.../
    "Yes. And have you heard of 'fangirls'?"
    "They are but a legend! A fearful legend, but a legend nonetheless."
    -Architeuthis of the Protectors of the Plot Continuum and High Nazgul of the Ringwraiths
    From "Intelligence Briefs for the PPC: The Beginning" by Architeuthis


    Quote Originally Posted by darkling
    Orochimaru has joined the Baby-Sitter's Club.

  26. #176
    Double Trouble Rigmarole's Avatar
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    Writing without constraints. Tabula rasa. The sound of continuity imploding.

    As for villains working better, what can I say? Evil is the new black. No, wait.
    She sensed intelligence behind this rigmarole, but it was meaningless to her.

    ...those who regard me as effete, arrogant, distanced. [Interviewer: All of which is true, of course.] [Banville:] Of course!

  27. #177
    Alpha-Female of the RPGC Staff Weiila's Avatar
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    Or my muse is a sadist D:

    But damn straight, evil IS the new black. Or yellow, red and green robes and lots of makeup. Or something. Yeah, my favorite villain of all time will always be

    Aaaanyway... I'm back home and managed to keep hold of some of that desire to write, enough to keep me going and getting some work done. Hooray!

    I realize that we're touching on a whole new genre in this part, but to hell with it.

    And I was THIS close to having Thrall say "This is madness" at one point.

    ... actually I erased it after writing it >_>


    A strange noise escaped Jaina, but that sound drowned in the growl reverberating from Thrall’s chest, and from all the people standing around. Even Ambassador Dawnsinger let hear a hissing gasp in the background.

    No no no it’s too much I can’t do this!

    Panic flooded Jaina’s mind, gut clenching into an icy knot at the prospect of seeing Arthas, what was left of him. Nobody knew what that would be, as the only reports of the Lich King was from those Scourge with more mind left than mere zombies – those howling praises to Arthas, the Lich King.

    But she wrestled those emotions aside, straightening her neck further.

    “I’m not much amused by listening to threats, and I don’t expect he will have anything else to say,” she said.

    “I fully agree with Jaina,” Thrall said, his voice deep as a growl. His armor clanged as he folded his arms across his chest. “Also, I don’t see why you would want to help him contact us.”

    Lady Sylvanas’ expression didn’t change in the least even in the face of this not too covert accusation of foul play.

    “I don’t, not really,” she said. Then, one corner of her lips drew upwards just the tiniest bit. “However, he’s been so very adamant about this that I’m,” she tilted her head every so slightly, “almost amused.”

    That did in no way make Jaina feel any better about the whole thing. She didn’t want to face Arthas in the first place, and especially not if he was that insistent about what he had to say.

    “He must be very adamant indeed for you to feel that way,” Thrall said, in the same tone as before.

    “Perhaps you will understand if you hear the reports,” Sylvanas replied.

    She turned her head and nodded to somebody only she saw. The circle of light in which her illusion stood widened a little, and a Forsaken male in tattered armor walked into existence within it. He didn’t wait for any other permission, but raised the bundle of papers in his gloved hands.

    “Report from the Bulwark on the border between Tirisfal Glades and the Western Plaguelands, courtesy of Argent Officer Garush,” he started in a raspy voice.

    The name wasn’t familiar to Jaina, but it certainly sounded more like an orc’s name than anything else. The Argent Dawn did employ people of all races. The author’s allegiances did promise some semblance of trustworthiness to the report, but it didn’t make her more relaxed in the least. While she briefly pondered this, the Forsaken warrior named the date just two days after the wedding and continued:

    “Just after sunrise, a lone Scourge mage made his way towards the border. He was killed on sight. Nothing else to report, but we discussed this strange behavior. He didn’t speak, like those who have broken free of the Scourge do when seeking refuge among the Forsaken. In his hand, held a ripped off piece of canvas. Might have been part of a Scarlet Crusade tent. All available warriors ordered to keep an eye out. Midday: another strange approach. This time a lonely Nerubian. Killed on sight. Carried what might have been a curtain at some point. Evening: Another mage. Carried the other half of the curtain.”

    Jaina tried to keep her face neutral, but her eyebrows desperately tried to rise and express her growing disbelief. Half of her wanted to ask if there was a point to this charade, the other half was, despite herself, wondering what on earth the Lich King was trying to accomplish.

    The warrior removed the first paper and folded it at the end of the bundle before continuing in the same monotone voice. In the background, Sylvanas remained unmoving.

    “Next morning: So far, four crazy members of the Scourge in two days. This one held what looked like a shirt. We burned it. Later that morning: really starting to wonder what is going on. Another piece of canvas. Midday: it happened again. This mage started to shout something before he was killed. Ordered the warriors to listen next time. Afternoon: a second Nerubian. Not taking chances. Killed on sight. Unable to identify piece of cloth.”

    “Lady Sylvanas…” Thrall said, and he couldn’t keep his disbelief out of his voice.

    “Bear with me, Warchief,” she replied. Her lips crinkled again. “Perhaps you see why I am almost amused, though?”

    “It’s peculiar, I will grant you that.” He snorted, in irritation or bewilderment was difficult to tell. “Get to the point.”

    “As you wish, Warchief,” the warrior said and put another paper aside. “Next day midday: the latest Scourge mage had time to finish his sentence. He shouted ‘It’s a white flag, curse you’. Turned to cinders two seconds later. Expect another will come. Will try to keep it alive long enough for an explanation.”

    If any of the Forsaken – the mage, the warrior or Lady Sylvanas herself – were amused by the blank looks they were getting, they didn’t show it.

    “I expect that it’s too much to hope for, that the entire Scourge is surrendering?” Thrall dryly said.

    Jaina, on her end, struggled to not laugh hysterically. The whole thing was so bizarre that she was starting to wonder if she simply dreamt it all. The mindlessly practical tone of the reports and the stubborn attempts to communicate clashed with the ice cold fact that she might still come face to face – through an illusion, but that was a weak comfort – with the Lich King within minutes.

    It was insane.

    “Sadly not, no,” Sylvanas replied to Thrall’s sarcasm. Her tone remained indifferent, making it impossible to tell if she thought he was serious. She waved her hand, and the warrior nodded.

    “Evening,” the Forsaken droned on, “managed to keep this one alive. Maybe carried another curtain. The prisoner said that his master demanded to speak with Warchief Thrall and Lady Proudmoore. In the last moment, thought better of smashing his rotten head in. Spoke with the Forsaken in the camp. Sent a messenger to Lady Sylvanas. Smashed the mage’s head in when her reply said to do so.”

    The warrior lowered the papers.

    “It continues in the same vein for the following days, Warchief,” he said.

    “Officer Garush finally saw fit to send me these copies of his reports,” Lady Sylvanas spoke up. “And the latest Scourge mage.” Her lips, perhaps, twitched. “I have no desire to provide any help for the Lich King, but since he’s so desperate to speak with you that he takes to such childishly obstinate behavior, it’s enough to make me curious.”
    New fanfic quote:

    "I am indeed a spy, milord, but not for the enemies of Mordor or the Master. Instead, I serve a different master, a group called the Protectors of the Plot Continuum. Milord, have you ever heard of 'fanfiction'?"
    "Aye. A particularly odious form of sorcery, by all accounts."
    /.../
    "Yes. And have you heard of 'fangirls'?"
    "They are but a legend! A fearful legend, but a legend nonetheless."
    -Architeuthis of the Protectors of the Plot Continuum and High Nazgul of the Ringwraiths
    From "Intelligence Briefs for the PPC: The Beginning" by Architeuthis


    Quote Originally Posted by darkling
    Orochimaru has joined the Baby-Sitter's Club.

  28. #178
    What is this I don't even pokefreak_85's Avatar
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    I love the list of things happening in the plaguelands.
    "Carried the other half of the curtain." XD

  29. #179
    Double Trouble Rigmarole's Avatar
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    O hai, my text was once again lost.
    That said, bravo, girl! I noticed parts that could be rephrased for ambiguity -not pertaining to the story- up to the reports being discussed, but once you go there it never stops rolling. What can I say, I got amused and appreciated that the gotcha serves this part of the text, not vice versa.

    Btw, adamant is an absolute word like pregnant or unique, so you could have Thrall say something along the lines of "Adamant quite describes it then" or whatever you prefer.

    As for , he's got black, too. In his twisted little heart. Mwahahahaha.
    She sensed intelligence behind this rigmarole, but it was meaningless to her.

    ...those who regard me as effete, arrogant, distanced. [Interviewer: All of which is true, of course.] [Banville:] Of course!

  30. #180
    Alpha-Female of the RPGC Staff Weiila's Avatar
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    >_>

    <_<

    Thrall shall be pretty badass soonish, if I can just get past this one obstacle that's been holding me up.

    ... I'm stuck on what the Lich King says when he first appears D:

    And yeah Rig, you'll get a reply soon, my brain just hasn't been with me lately.
    New fanfic quote:

    "I am indeed a spy, milord, but not for the enemies of Mordor or the Master. Instead, I serve a different master, a group called the Protectors of the Plot Continuum. Milord, have you ever heard of 'fanfiction'?"
    "Aye. A particularly odious form of sorcery, by all accounts."
    /.../
    "Yes. And have you heard of 'fangirls'?"
    "They are but a legend! A fearful legend, but a legend nonetheless."
    -Architeuthis of the Protectors of the Plot Continuum and High Nazgul of the Ringwraiths
    From "Intelligence Briefs for the PPC: The Beginning" by Architeuthis


    Quote Originally Posted by darkling
    Orochimaru has joined the Baby-Sitter's Club.

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