Tag: Valdiis x 25

A collaboration with the player and writer of Eredis Orill.

((We wrote this piece collaboratively over two years, e-mailing it back and forth. Coincidentally, this work formed the beginning of our relationship in person.))


      Golden dawn light limned the sails and almost lent beauty to the war-torn, ice-battered boat docked at the harbor at Valiance Keep. The dawn light struggled in vain against the puffs of sooty steam from the ship’s main power source, the coal fires banked while the ship sat at anchor. On the wooden docks, activity bustled as quickly as if it were well after noon. Pairs of deckhands carried large wooden crates between them from the ship’s hold to the land end of the docks while a leather-skinned man with a...

Prompt: If a picture is crooked, you might adjust it on the wall. If your clothes don't fit, you might adjust a button or a hem. But sometimes we have to make major adjustments in our lives. Have you ever faced a difficult situation that required making adjustments? What adjustments did you make and what was the outcome? Describe to us the good and the bad as needed from the(se) adjustment(s).

Rectifiable Flaws and the Stubborn Dead

    A cold wind danced up the raw skin on her back. She would have rolled over to protect the wounds, but that would put her left shoulder – which of all the damage was in far worse shape – on the ground. She would have edged just under the shelter of the tent – or as far as her tether would...

Prompt: June 9, 2012 - Describe the greatest gift given to your character.

    Click. Click. Click! Three separate deadbolts engaged, shutting the room off from all but the most determined of invaders. Two chains - one high, one low - slid into catches across the jamb. Thump! A wooden bar as thick as a human male's arm fell into holders on either side of the heavy oak door. Physical securities in place, Valdiis allowed herself a moment to sag back against the door's support and pinch the bridge of her nose between two gloved fingers. Years of innate paranoia allowed her only a moment though, and she dropped her hand to turn and trace the intricate series of runes around the jamb, imbuing them with runic power to activate the...

Prompt: June 7, 2012 - Today's topic is open. Whatever you want to write about, go for it.

    Quite a large stack of paperwork had been awaiting her at the small desk she maintained in Acherus when she finally felt like herself enough to deal with some of the day-to-day background business of the 1113th. Ever since the tragic and unexpectedly sudden demise of their auditor, Commander Glou, the amount of paperwork in the unit had decreased dramatically, but there was still correspondence to go through and requisitions to handle.

    Adroitly, she slid a hand under the stack and flipped it over, going through the papers from oldest to newest in her usual fashion. As she was entirely alone in her office, she didn't bother...

Prompt: June 3, 2012 - Scribbled across a random piece of parchment is the following: Each to his grief, each to his loneliness and fidgety revenge. What does this mean to your character?

This entry should rightly be shown with the two preceding entries written by Redamous and Eredis for this Site Write topic. As neither is archiving in a place I can link to (other than the forums I seek to avoid "creep loss" from) at the moment, both posts are included here for reference.

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Redamous
Entry 28: Meaning, and Meaningless

"Each to his grief, each to his loneliness and fidgety revenge? What the bloody Fel is that supposed to mean?" Red grumbled to himself. "Is there just some holiday that's been goin' on for awhile or somethin'?...

Prompt: June 2, 2012 - While in Stormwind, your character is stalked by a homeless fellow. He doesn't say a word to you and won't let you outrun him. There is nothing pleasant about him, so much to your character's annoyance, you're forced to interact with him. What happens? Ultimately, the beggar just wants a slice of cheese you may or may not have.

    His was the dirt of a thousand nights spent in alleys, and the stench of those nights spent wallowing in the trash bins for scraps. He was ragged and torn, matted with gummy substances she had no desire to identify. What might well have been blood crusted on one ear and he limped in a manner which suggested the leg had been broken and healed back funny. But most annoyingly of...

Prompt: May 29, 2012 - By chance, your character happens to stumble across an enemy. This enemy can be personal, from the other faction or an acquaintance. The two of you are caught on neutral ground, so no fighting is to happen there. So what happens, if anything at all?

    The battle had been horrendous - a gory, brutal affair in which innards spilled and blood spattered and limbs were torn free. It was - as so many of such things seemed - a near pointless capture of a forward point in Silverpine, long before the Wall came down. The Alliance wanted a place to set up a forward base in hopes of encroaching on Tirisfal, and so AEGIS went to set up a forward base. It was only natural that word got out - it always did; so few ops...

Colors added by Valdiis.

Colors added by Valdiis.

Colors added by Valdiis.

Prompt: May 27, 2012 - Either by dream or thought, your character finds themselves thinking/dreaming about executing one person of other faction. This person could be known, nameless or one person of this server. However the catch is this, your character is thrown up in all the politics surrounding said death. It is going to be public and brutal by your hands. Do you go through with it? Whether you do or don't, who is it and why? What would you (or were going to) do to them?

(Warning: Violence against a pregnant woman.)

    "At least my womb can still bear children, unlike your barren corpse!"

    White-hot rage exploded across Valdiis's mind, blinding her for a heartbeat - or what would have been one if hers still...

Prompt: May 26, 2012 - Who does your character regret meeting and why?

    Re-acclimation to a world which no longer desired her presence was a long, hard process filled with sorrow and anger, insult and even some grievous physical injury at times. Valdiis stood on a balcony overlooking the Trader's Tier in the Exodar - a ship she'd never gotten particularly familiar with - and stared unseeingly at the strings of arcane lights dripping from the crystal ceiling. Far below, a small speck of a huntress - a brash female who'd crashed into Valdiis's life with flailing emotionality and exuberance, and forced some semblance of compassion from her cold heart - was stomping away, furious at the chilly reception her request had gained...