Post by Lilifred on Nov 7, 2010 4:43:35 GMT -5
my brothers, they never went blind for what they did
(but I might as well have)
The fog in Zangarmarsh was so thick in the autumn that the light from her eye and the ember at the end of her cigar were all that cast light about her. Lilifred leant over the neck of her mechanostrider, chin resting on crossed arms as she deliberated. Right now Luri was on her way to a meeting. It might be a trap. It might not be. Either way, it didn't matter- Lilifred had more important things to worry about than whatever mortal squabbles the Kamil were having back on Azeroth. She had an appointment with a God.
Decision made, she pulled her goggles down over her eyes and switched on their lights, spilling unnatural green over the damp, alien vegetation. The marsh's oppressive hues ate the light, but Lilifred could still see her destination. There was a cave, overgrown with purple moss and guarded by strange, glowing grasses. She knew where it led- a strange krokul told her, at the end of a journey her and Lazaar began what felt like years ago. The gnome swung off her strider and approached the small opening, cutting away at the moss and ducking her head inside. A full grown draenei would have had to crawl the first mile- it was meant to be a humbling journey, forced onto your knees in the dirt and sludge as you approached your master. Lilifred's teeth wouldn't stop their goddamn chattering, so she lit another cigar and strode right in. Lilifred Bumblehurst walked with her chin held high and one hand rest over her rifle because she was never one to bow her head to the Light.
"There is no such things as good and evil, Lilschenka."
Yeva holds a shard of pale crystal to the light, her rampage quelled temporarily. There is something wild tugging at the corpse-crinkles around her eyes. Her whole, slight body shuddering, she turns to look at Lilifred, the crystal held high in candle-glow, refracting endless amethyst patterns across the ruined library.
"In this limbo is where Kamil exists. When we were young- yes, very young I remember- my brother Sobaru, he has dream. Brave, beautiful Sobaru-" she clasps her hands around the shard, an uneven smile cracking open her rotting face. Her skin cackles like dried parchment, "Sobaru dreams the Naaru dream. From this dream, he receives his mission. This is Kamil."
Lilifred can feel her eyes going buggy. She's looking at Yeva with an expression of incredulous incomprehension and she can't make it stop. She speaks, "L-look lady. I have no idea what the hell you're on about, o-okay?"
Yeva tips her head slightly, her smile settling into something almost normal. There's a matronly look that flickers here and there where her skin isn't quite so ghoulish and decayed and Lilifred's persistently inconvenient inner child wants to find comfort in it, it is so different from the parody of motherhood so often assumed by "Auntie".
"Ahh, Lilschenka." Yeva purrs and strides closer, "You are a clever thing at times, but these eyes of yours? Closed to so many things."
Lilifred tries to sink into the wall but the laws of physics deny her even this simple comfort. She is caged on one side by Yeva's long, spoiled arm., "You must understand, this is the best life one can achieve." the draenei whispers as she presses the cool edge of the crystal to Lilifred's forehead, "We do the Light's work."
A long time ago, Lilifred had a conversation with Campion about things she did and did not believe in. In retrospect, she could have been less of a dick about it- there really had been no reason at all to call poor Miles an idiot about something that turned out to be true.
What she told him back then was this:
"The Light exists, sure, but there's no way in hell it cares about you. It's a random arcane phenomenon weak minded people are especially talented at tapping into."
A true gnome always stands by their academic assertions and Lilifred cannot refute that it is the weak-minded who flock to the Light. She had simply never considered herself one of the herd. She remembered-
"What answers your prayers, Campy? Do you know the answer? Because
I
d o . . ."
Her goggles sparked suddenly and Lilifred leapt in the confined space, banging her head against the ceiling and falling limp. The goggles' built-in flashlights sizzled out and Lilifred frowned into the darkness. Her eye was getting all fuzzy too, whirring in and out of focus desperately as some unknown force interfered with its mechanism. She must have been getting close- the tunnel ran under the border of Zangarmarsh and Terokkar, winding out past the ruins of Auchindoun and under the desolate wastes. Beyond that, the edge of the planet.
Struggling to her feet, Lilifred put her cigar between her teeth and delicately pried open the edges of her eyesocket with two fingers. She switched off her mechanical eye; no sense having the damn thing short-circuit inside her head. That was one high she had no intent on chasing. With a satisfied sigh, she continued on.
Her cigar was not an effective light by any means, but it was a comforting dash of warmth in the black. The air grew stale and chill around her as the tunnel widened and above her, she could hear the harsh winds of Draenor's edge howling.
The thing about religion, Lilifred always thought, is that it's like a parasite. It crawls into you and replaces everything that makes you strong with itself so when you go too look for your bravery or your conviction or your conscience, all that's left is the Light. And when the Light goes, you've got nothing left.
Ever since Yeva told her the goddamn secret of the Kamil. Ever since Yeva told her about their Naaru and their purpose and put the stupid idea in her head that this was all a preordained thing, a holy thing, that somehow, peddling whores and drugs and murder was the Light's work... ever since the moment that fucking crazy old bag had pressed the Naaru shard to her forehead and shown her what they meant when they said As burns the Light of the Naaru, so does your soul Lilifred has felt herself gripped by religious conviction. She awoke with sweats in the night, terrified prayers on her lips. She followed orders without thought, without question, with only bleak understanding.
The thing about religion, Lilifred always thought, is that it's more like fear than love. Not everyone could be Miles Campion. Lilifred wanted to be there the day the man was made a goddamned Venerated Figure in the Church of the Light, but it was likely that her and Campy wouldn't do too much talking after this what with the way she'd spiked his drink (more than once) and shot him a few times and then put him in a box. That's what woke her up- cauterizing Campion's wounds in the frigid, Northrend air as Lazaar and Father Charles stared at her pitifully.
It would have been nice if that had happened before Aleyna scooped out her eye, but life wasn't perfect.
Around a muddy corner, the tunnel filled with purple light. Lilifred had to blink her eye against its intensity after the darkness behind her. As her vision adjusted, she could follow the lines of light in the wall- like brightly lit veins, all in strange colours- to the Naaru's chamber. She walked slowly, but not hesitantly. This was her one chance to escape the chains of faith.
Surrounded by his finery- the delicate formations of crystal, pulsing with potential life and scorched dark by some terrible rage- resided O'roo, the patron Naaru of the Kamil te Kar. It turned to meet Lilifred, every piece of its abstract form rotating in jerky, halting movements. There were cracks in its limbs from which star-bright powder scattered, dusting the translucent chamber floor. Beneath him spun the Nether and when Lilifred tried to look at it, she felt dizzy and sick.
LILIFRED MY CHILD said O'roo in a voice that was everywhere but, most important, inside of her. Its voice enveloped her comfortingly and for a moment, her resolve almost wavered. Softly, the Naaru urged, COME TO ME.
Lilifred bit her lip sharply enough to draw blood. Then she dropped her cigar and ground it into the crystal with a dirty boot.
"No." she replied firmly, "Listen, I got a thing or two to say to you."
ANYTHING. FOR MY CHILDREN- MY KAMIL- THERE IS ALWAYS TIME FOR WORDS.
'Okay, yeah.' Lilifred took a deep breath and forced herself to raise her head, staring at the glorious creature head on. C'mon, Lil, these things are a dime a dozen in Shattrath. What makes this one so special
-besides the fact that he's IN YOUR HEAD-
Lilifred had an appointment with a God and she was going to say her piece. She opened her mouth and, very eloquently, said to the Naaru:
"Fuck. You."
[but I had one more stupid question...]
(but I might as well have)
The fog in Zangarmarsh was so thick in the autumn that the light from her eye and the ember at the end of her cigar were all that cast light about her. Lilifred leant over the neck of her mechanostrider, chin resting on crossed arms as she deliberated. Right now Luri was on her way to a meeting. It might be a trap. It might not be. Either way, it didn't matter- Lilifred had more important things to worry about than whatever mortal squabbles the Kamil were having back on Azeroth. She had an appointment with a God.
Decision made, she pulled her goggles down over her eyes and switched on their lights, spilling unnatural green over the damp, alien vegetation. The marsh's oppressive hues ate the light, but Lilifred could still see her destination. There was a cave, overgrown with purple moss and guarded by strange, glowing grasses. She knew where it led- a strange krokul told her, at the end of a journey her and Lazaar began what felt like years ago. The gnome swung off her strider and approached the small opening, cutting away at the moss and ducking her head inside. A full grown draenei would have had to crawl the first mile- it was meant to be a humbling journey, forced onto your knees in the dirt and sludge as you approached your master. Lilifred's teeth wouldn't stop their goddamn chattering, so she lit another cigar and strode right in. Lilifred Bumblehurst walked with her chin held high and one hand rest over her rifle because she was never one to bow her head to the Light.
"There is no such things as good and evil, Lilschenka."
Yeva holds a shard of pale crystal to the light, her rampage quelled temporarily. There is something wild tugging at the corpse-crinkles around her eyes. Her whole, slight body shuddering, she turns to look at Lilifred, the crystal held high in candle-glow, refracting endless amethyst patterns across the ruined library.
"In this limbo is where Kamil exists. When we were young- yes, very young I remember- my brother Sobaru, he has dream. Brave, beautiful Sobaru-" she clasps her hands around the shard, an uneven smile cracking open her rotting face. Her skin cackles like dried parchment, "Sobaru dreams the Naaru dream. From this dream, he receives his mission. This is Kamil."
Lilifred can feel her eyes going buggy. She's looking at Yeva with an expression of incredulous incomprehension and she can't make it stop. She speaks, "L-look lady. I have no idea what the hell you're on about, o-okay?"
Yeva tips her head slightly, her smile settling into something almost normal. There's a matronly look that flickers here and there where her skin isn't quite so ghoulish and decayed and Lilifred's persistently inconvenient inner child wants to find comfort in it, it is so different from the parody of motherhood so often assumed by "Auntie".
"Ahh, Lilschenka." Yeva purrs and strides closer, "You are a clever thing at times, but these eyes of yours? Closed to so many things."
Lilifred tries to sink into the wall but the laws of physics deny her even this simple comfort. She is caged on one side by Yeva's long, spoiled arm., "You must understand, this is the best life one can achieve." the draenei whispers as she presses the cool edge of the crystal to Lilifred's forehead, "We do the Light's work."
A long time ago, Lilifred had a conversation with Campion about things she did and did not believe in. In retrospect, she could have been less of a dick about it- there really had been no reason at all to call poor Miles an idiot about something that turned out to be true.
What she told him back then was this:
"The Light exists, sure, but there's no way in hell it cares about you. It's a random arcane phenomenon weak minded people are especially talented at tapping into."
A true gnome always stands by their academic assertions and Lilifred cannot refute that it is the weak-minded who flock to the Light. She had simply never considered herself one of the herd. She remembered-
"What answers your prayers, Campy? Do you know the answer? Because
I
d o . . ."
Her goggles sparked suddenly and Lilifred leapt in the confined space, banging her head against the ceiling and falling limp. The goggles' built-in flashlights sizzled out and Lilifred frowned into the darkness. Her eye was getting all fuzzy too, whirring in and out of focus desperately as some unknown force interfered with its mechanism. She must have been getting close- the tunnel ran under the border of Zangarmarsh and Terokkar, winding out past the ruins of Auchindoun and under the desolate wastes. Beyond that, the edge of the planet.
Struggling to her feet, Lilifred put her cigar between her teeth and delicately pried open the edges of her eyesocket with two fingers. She switched off her mechanical eye; no sense having the damn thing short-circuit inside her head. That was one high she had no intent on chasing. With a satisfied sigh, she continued on.
Her cigar was not an effective light by any means, but it was a comforting dash of warmth in the black. The air grew stale and chill around her as the tunnel widened and above her, she could hear the harsh winds of Draenor's edge howling.
The thing about religion, Lilifred always thought, is that it's like a parasite. It crawls into you and replaces everything that makes you strong with itself so when you go too look for your bravery or your conviction or your conscience, all that's left is the Light. And when the Light goes, you've got nothing left.
Ever since Yeva told her the goddamn secret of the Kamil. Ever since Yeva told her about their Naaru and their purpose and put the stupid idea in her head that this was all a preordained thing, a holy thing, that somehow, peddling whores and drugs and murder was the Light's work... ever since the moment that fucking crazy old bag had pressed the Naaru shard to her forehead and shown her what they meant when they said As burns the Light of the Naaru, so does your soul Lilifred has felt herself gripped by religious conviction. She awoke with sweats in the night, terrified prayers on her lips. She followed orders without thought, without question, with only bleak understanding.
The thing about religion, Lilifred always thought, is that it's more like fear than love. Not everyone could be Miles Campion. Lilifred wanted to be there the day the man was made a goddamned Venerated Figure in the Church of the Light, but it was likely that her and Campy wouldn't do too much talking after this what with the way she'd spiked his drink (more than once) and shot him a few times and then put him in a box. That's what woke her up- cauterizing Campion's wounds in the frigid, Northrend air as Lazaar and Father Charles stared at her pitifully.
It would have been nice if that had happened before Aleyna scooped out her eye, but life wasn't perfect.
Around a muddy corner, the tunnel filled with purple light. Lilifred had to blink her eye against its intensity after the darkness behind her. As her vision adjusted, she could follow the lines of light in the wall- like brightly lit veins, all in strange colours- to the Naaru's chamber. She walked slowly, but not hesitantly. This was her one chance to escape the chains of faith.
Surrounded by his finery- the delicate formations of crystal, pulsing with potential life and scorched dark by some terrible rage- resided O'roo, the patron Naaru of the Kamil te Kar. It turned to meet Lilifred, every piece of its abstract form rotating in jerky, halting movements. There were cracks in its limbs from which star-bright powder scattered, dusting the translucent chamber floor. Beneath him spun the Nether and when Lilifred tried to look at it, she felt dizzy and sick.
LILIFRED MY CHILD said O'roo in a voice that was everywhere but, most important, inside of her. Its voice enveloped her comfortingly and for a moment, her resolve almost wavered. Softly, the Naaru urged, COME TO ME.
Lilifred bit her lip sharply enough to draw blood. Then she dropped her cigar and ground it into the crystal with a dirty boot.
"No." she replied firmly, "Listen, I got a thing or two to say to you."
ANYTHING. FOR MY CHILDREN- MY KAMIL- THERE IS ALWAYS TIME FOR WORDS.
'Okay, yeah.' Lilifred took a deep breath and forced herself to raise her head, staring at the glorious creature head on. C'mon, Lil, these things are a dime a dozen in Shattrath. What makes this one so special
-besides the fact that he's IN YOUR HEAD-
Lilifred had an appointment with a God and she was going to say her piece. She opened her mouth and, very eloquently, said to the Naaru:
"Fuck. You."
[but I had one more stupid question...]