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The Hard Part
The last of the fire was now nothing but smoldering embers in the pit of the stone hearth. Other than the faint glow given off by the dying fire's life, no other light was visible in the dark room. Save for the natural light of the moon that filtered through the window facing out towards the plains of the Northern Barrens.

The troll sat on the edge of the bed, the dim embers a reflection in is orange eyes. In his hands, curled around their blue-toned frame was the cloth of a black tabard. The red insignia of Ironsong donned the front. But across it was written the story of the last three years of the troll's life. Stains of the blood of enemies, tears that were from blade and teeth alike. Many of which had been sewn to make the tabard look presentable and not a marred piece of cloth.

It had taken him some time and a lot of thinking to come to the decision he'd had this evening. Ironsong had been the only real family he'd ever known/ Growing up, he had a woman adopt him and make him her child to take care of. Later, the Horde would become that "family". But he never felt the sense of the word until he arrived here. The countless stories and adventures he had here would remain with his memory forever. It saddened him a great deal when the full realization of what was going on his life hit him. He spent many of his days wandering now, never spending much time within the hall.

Perhaps the cataclysm hadn't just changed the world.

Rising slowly from the bed, Melikar hefted a pack of his belongings onto his back, sword included. He didn't know where he'd go, but he'd find a home again. And maybe he'd still see his old family throughout the world of Azeroth as he did so.

He folded up the tabard, laying it gently on his bed. If anyone cared to step into his room, they would understand. Breathing out one last sigh, he exited the room and made his way to the guild hall proper. Though there were others around, he hoped not to be spotted and questioned. He stepped out the door quickly and down the road leading away from the hall.

Not once did he stop to look back, not once did his feet stay in place. Though it felt like he was tearing a piece of himself out and leaving it behind, he kept moving. Eventually, the guild hall disappeared behind him, and it was nothing but the world he found himself in.

((OOC bit: It is with a heavy heart that I have decided to remove myself from Ironsong. The guild is taking (and already has taken) a direction I wish not to follow. I've said my arguments before and wish to speak on the matter no more. This is no longer the guild I feel to be a part of anymore.

I have nothing against any of the people here and I hope to remain friends with all of you. I'll still hang out in the OOC and LFG channels if anyone needs me. With that said, I wish you all the best of luck in Cataclysm. And we never know what the future brings. You may yet see me again, but that is all far up in the air at this point. I will miss being in Ironsong.))
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Mula watched as the troll slunk out of guild hall. There was something different about Melikar. She sat by the fire holding her tea, trying to pinpoint it. The tea landed heavily on the table, spilling, as Mula jumped up. She didn't even notice as she rushed out the hall. She saw him at the base of the hill, trudging.

She whistles sharply, and a blue and silver talbuk pranced up to her. She quickly mounted it, and pushed it into a fast trot. It took no time to catch up to the troll. "Hold up, friend!"

She slowed the talbuk to a walk and jumped off. The troll looked surprised to see her...and possibly a bit dismayed. "Melikar, what's the matter? You look as if you got last place in a pie eating contest." She looked down at his chest, "Where's your tabard?" The look on his face said everything.

"You're . . . not even going to say goodbye? Where will you go? Come on back, I've got a fresh pot of tea brewing...perhaps we could just talk it over?"
The troll placed a hand on Mula's shoulder and offered her the most comforting smile he could make.

"Ah said my goodbyes some time ago..." he said, quietly. "My goodbyes were in everyt'in' Ah did he'ah. All da fightin' an' da celebratin' an'..."

Melikar trailed off, his voice getting distant.

"It hurts." he finally stated. He stared at Mula, hoping she could see that he wasn't going back, no matter what she may say to convince him otherwise.

"Ah ain' dead." he said, "Ah still be aroun'. Jus'...dis not gonna be my home anymo'ah."

Not waiting for a reply, the warrior continued on his way.
[Image: AWOeJWn.png]
Lucinther placed a small package , that had been simply wrapped and tied with a piece of twine, in front of one of Anca's frequently used tunnels. He attached a note to the top of it.

I'm sorry that I could not tell you goodbye myself. I know you don't understand why I'm gone, but know I do not go without reason. I will tell your sister that you send your love.
I have left you my tabard. Please keep it safe for me. In it you will find a key that opens the door to my room here in re halls. Everything in that room now belongs to you.
I will miss you kid. Know that even though you can't see me, I will always be watching over you.

Lucinther shouldered his backpack and gave a short nod to Zaevian. The two walked silently out the door and off into the sunset. He glanced back only once. It had been a long five years, but he was needed elsewhere now.
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