.o1 + VIDEO

[frostheart]

[ hello barge, this guy looks pretty spiny, and furthermore, slightly not alive, what with the sickly pallor and the pale, glowing eyes. when he speaks, his voice bears a strange echo, dark and otherworldly.

he frowns, one long brow arched. ]

I suppose this is more or less preferable to a torture chamber.

[ a pause. ]

Koltira Deathweaver, death knight, of the order of the Ebon Blade. I'd say it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, but..

No matter. I'll be certain to make myself of use.

Comments

[strangehistorian]

Hello, Koltira! I'm Chromie, of the Wyrmrest Accord. Welcome to the Barge!

[frostheart]

[ ... ]

I can't say I expected to meet a dragon here, but then again, I suppose I should have.

[with_my_teacup]

"Death knight." Interesting title.

[strangehistorian]

I get that a lot.

[Video]

[forquelthalas]

[He is a rare sight on this network, but he does watch and observe. Mostly humans, living their pitiful little lives.

But this was different. An undead Quel'dorei, much like Sylvanas, he guessed? Must be a new inmate.]

I suppose that entirely depends on which cage you were destined for.

[frostheart]

I imagine you do. Are you alone?

[frostheart]

[ a shallow shrug. ]

It is what I am, nothing more, and nothing less.

[with_my_teacup]

So what does a death knight do?

[frostheart]

[ well this is surely.. shocking. which is saying something; koltira is not easily shocked. his grim expression tightens - was kael'thas not dead? but, he supposes, that means little on the barge..

he inclines his head. ]

So far, this cage seems the preferable one.

[frostheart]

We fight. It is all we know.

[with_my_teacup]

..great.

[He sounds a smidge sarcastic. Just a hair.]

Welcome aboard, then.

[frostheart]

[ hey you asked, brosef. koltira's mouth tightens to a thin line. ]

And you are?

[with_my_teacup]

Richard Riddick.

[There's a pause, where he almost says 'convict' because he's been saying that for months.]

Warden.

[frostheart]

[ and that pause, as it were, is duly noted. koltira's eyes narrow, and he exhales a low sigh. ]

And how long have you been here, Riddick?

[forquelthalas]

[A frown.]

I see.

[He almost doesn't ask, but he's curious. It's a concern he doesn't show for anyone but his people, and his expression turns slightly from petulance to a hint of worry.]

How did you meet your fate?

[frostheart]

[ koltira stiffens, visibly.

normally, such an invasive, sensitive question would be met with a chilly response, if not outright hostility -- but this is his prince, this is a memory of bright, sweet quel'thalas, and though koltira has heard the stories, though he knows just what it that kael'thas has done..

he breathes deeply, and casts his eyes aside. ]

Arthas. When the scourge swept over Quel'Thalas.

[ when i failed you, failed our people, failed to protect an'owyn from the forces that devastated us. ]

[with_my_teacup]

About a year total. Not as a warden.

private;

[forquelthalas]

[He simply nods, but his face belies a feeling of sorrow. He knows, he knows his people suffered at the hands of that butcher. Sylvanas had been nearly enough to remind him, but now, another had joined them.

He, too, looks away, for a moment, and nods sadly.]

I see.

I suppose you did what you were able to. Many lost their lives.

[His father, included. A man he was never properly able to grieve for.]

There is no shame in it.

[He should have been there, and it haunts him. If he had not been in Dalaran, he could have helped, could have fought alongside his people.

But he wasn't there when they needed him. Reminding himself of that is like ripping open a wound.]

[frostheart]

Is that how it works, then? This redemption.

[with_my_teacup]

Seems to be, isn't it?

You're starting on that side, too, or was that crack about a torture chamber just for show?

private;

[frostheart]

[ koltira hadn't expected this. he isn't prepared for this, he doesn't want this -- how could he have ever expected to see his prince again in this place, to speak with him, and be reminded so vividly of quel'thalas, the bright blur of scarlet and gold in the prince's robes a lurid reminder of silvermoon, in all of her beauty and glory.

it's almost as if he can feel his chest tighten at the thought of it.

no shame, he says, and yet koltira will not believe it, cannot believe it. he will always, always be ashamed. with an expression like stone, koltira forces away the waves of guilt and crushing anguish; weakness is not a thing he can display, not especially before the sun prince. ]

.. Mm. Nonetheless, it is what it is, and I am what I am. There is no going back.

[frostheart]

I'm a warden.

[ weird, i know. ]

private;

[forquelthalas]

Perhaps not.

[He knows that much, to be true. In all honesty, this is easier than seeing him in person, than having to abide that strange stillness he noticed in Sylvanas. To have to feel something cold and dead in his presence.

And yet, his heart twisted knowing that this one had died defending their home. He was another casualty of the war- and worse, he had been denied the sweet finality of death. He had been made a puppet for the butcher's amusement.

Despite his differences, and despite those that may have considered him a traitor or led astray...he loved his people. Everything he had done, every small part of his soul he severed and traded away, was for them.

Some part of him died as the trees withered in Quel'thalas. The scar carved into the land mirrored one in his soul.]

We have little here. Sylvanas Windrunner is here. The rest, as much as I can surmise, are human.

The butcher, Arthas, is present, as well.

[with_my_teacup]

This'll be interesting.

Where you from?

[frostheart]

It is called Azeroth. Do you know of it?