01-04-2011, 09:03 AM
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.))
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.))
![[Image: AWOeJWn.png]](http://i.imgur.com/AWOeJWn.png)
![[Image: 3994085VvROm.png]](http://www.siglaunch.com/sigs/wow/9/4/0/8/5/3994085VvROm.png)