Refusal
This roleplay was done on August 17th. It had no edits aside for minor grammatical and spelling corrections and the attempt of new format for consecutive NPC speech. It was done in collaboration with @verena-wintour, also known as @doriandrin
Verena was not escorted in this time, the guards outside Ambermill's worn down town hall recognized her. It seems ever since the incident with the experimental ordinance ship the Legion brought to bear, word has gotten around that it was her acute listening that got it noticed. Inside, the previously damp air has been more or less cleared out by the open windows, and all the candles had been lit. Some additional, glowing with azure magics, contrasted the orange flames as they floated near the walls. It was clear that since the last of Ambermill's resistance has been wiped out, the little mage town has not seen use since. Not until the Third marched in, set itself up and started consolidating their efforts and accounting for resupply. Some of the officers thought it silly to set a trap and then retreat so far behind, and Verena would hear one's discontent upon entering. "A string taut too far will become visible. Now we've that much more ground to cover should Tarren Mill come under attack!" It wasn't an officer she'd easily recognize. The Undead made few appearances, and wore a dark blue tabard with the crest of the Forsaken. Hunched with heavy brown and black armor, he shook his head. "If I didn't know any better Dawnstorm, I'd call you a coward."
Velonar had his gaze matched dead on, looking rather displeased. "If I didn't know any better, I'd call your brain rotted beyond repair." He chastised. "I understand that the Forsaken do not fear throwing their... ‘unlives’ into a meat grinder should the need arise, but the Third cannot handle such attrition. The retreat was necessary, as the Legion is overconfident." "You think they won't be able to scout this camp out?" "As a matter of fact, I know they won't! The prior defeat forced their gaze upon Tarren Mill. Dun Garok was entirely ignored." "That is why we abandon a clearly superior defensive position. Brav--" "That is why we abandon the obvious position. Demons are cunning creatures. If they intend to level the hills by means of brute force, no amount of Dwarven engineering will save our lives." "And lives--" Velonar barked, cutting him off again. "And lives are everything." He raised his hand for the door, extending a slender, long nailed finger that showed itself past a crimson glove. "I've permitted you in under the new Warchief's demand. If you assume Sylvanas can mingle in my strategies, then you are welcome to invite her in person to be proven wrong, and be done with this farce." "You insult the Banshee Queen?" "Dismissed." And that was that. Stared down by a pack of no less than fifteen other members of the high command, blademasters and warmages alike, the Undead warrior spat on the floor and left with a dirty look. -- Verena had entered just at the end of the conversation and watched with a frown as the officer shuffled past her through the door of Velonar's temporary command office and back out into the camp. She furrowed her brows and gazed back at the general, waiting for him to finish his important work before so much as knocking on the doorframe to announce her presence. She seemed more casual now than when she had first arrived among the troops with Lansael in tow, but still wearing her battle-ready robes should trouble arise; and in her bare hand she carried a rolled piece of parchment. -- Velonar didn't give the envoy a second look, staring down the place where he used to stand with a searing fel glower. After a few seconds it rose, exchanging a look with the others. They didn't seem to fear him in the same way that a regular soldier might have. Or rather, they knew they had no reason to. Vesok, on the far side of the table with one leg crossed over another, hunched in a thinker's pose, graveled out. "First the bloody lord, now my bloody lady." He seemed conflicted. Ashdawn frowned and made a move to approach, but another already has. It was a tall Orcish woman, dressed in blue and silver metals. Chains emblazoned off her shoulderpads that had the adoration of wolves. Clearly, she was a shaman. Setting her hand onto his shoulder, she smiled. "Don't worry. I have seen - most of you will not have to face this conundrum." Velonar then spoke up, grim at the prospect. "None will." He stated in a rising determination. "We are all brothers and sisters here. In life and in death. Who brought you back is none of my concern." He looked to Vesok, who's eye-less pits rose to meet him. "We've all sworn the oath. We will all perish by it." A Death Knight added solemnly, his crimson armor clinking as he nodded firmly, the heavy helmet unrestricting of his movement. "In life and the Light." Then suddenly, WHAM! A fatty green fist smashing into the table. Orash's maw full of giant fangs and pointed teeth widened as the Orc roared out. "With blood and glory!" The table replied with "Aye!" Velonar smiled. "As if a man couldn't be blessed with better companions." Amid the commotion, a hand laid on his shoulder, as another warmage sought to get his attention. Nodding back to Verena, the Elf dressed in a vivid orange and violet finally got Velonar to spot her. "Alright you bloody louts, study the plans! We win this, and then, WE FEAST!" He shouted to the group's cheer, shaking off any prior threats and implications. The Third had work to do. Velonar in the mean time turned and approached his visitor. "Lady Wintour. Your work has helped us. How can I help you now?" --
Verena took one swaying step into the room. She started to play coy, to ask him if he was only willing to help her because of her prior work, but stopped when she considered the others present. She tilted an eyebrow at him. "Lord Dawnstorm," she spoke with a confident air, "I wish to speak to you about a matter concerning this little 'project' of mine." She thumbed over her shoulder with her free hand, indicating the direction of her quarters, where she had left Lansael with a maid in her service.
-- The General furrowed his brows, but glanced over his shoulder with a rather neutral expression. "Orash." "Yes, lord?" "If the Paladin fights over the van position, give him a smack for me." The noted paladin spoke up, shrugging. "If m'lord says it, I obey. Just thought I'd have a bloody chance to play soldier where I like it." He was golden armored man with pitch black hair, lips thinning toward a smirk, and giving off a a visible shrug. He had a short sword and a large round shield, both strapped to his back. Velonar turned, sighing. "You'll get your chance soon. I suspect a second vanguard party will be very much necessary." "Aye." Orash spoke up. The blademaster then started scratching his scruffy chin, grinning. "You're not missin' all that much anyway." The Paladin seemed more perplexed than frustrated. "Explain?" "The Demons, for all their talk of might, actually have a surprisingly squishy center when forming out of teleportation. M'lord, can you explain it better, I--" Velonar interrupted, "No. Get Ashdawn to help." Turning, the warlord looked at Verena with an incredulous shake of his head and continued out. As they left, behind them would be the parting pleas of a blademaster that didn't want to lose favor with a triage healing expert. Well, that and plenty of laughter. - Scene transition to an inn building - Entering the guest room of one of the previously abandoned inns unveiled a rather quiet post-dinner scene. The folks that got their food late were sitting around a few tables, sharing drinks and tales. The occasional guffaw would break this, though nobody seemed to really mind. Just soldiers enjoying a little peace and relaxation before the next storm. Velonar looked to Verena, expecting her to lead the way to her room. -- Verena turned and silently followed him, but not before casting an entertained look at the men they were leaving behind. She followed him out and to the nearby, more informal building where they could speak. She noted his indication and did lead him further into the inn, but stopped short of actually leading him to her room. She did not want to speak near the girl. "I sent word to Lady Noviar," she informed him. "I did not tell her our location." -- Velonar blinked at this, speaking a little quieter himself. This was nothing his comrades needed to concern them selves with. Some gave them a glance, but soon returned to their conversations and food. Seems ever since Velonar's first lover, he seemed to put down rumors rather quickly. Not to mention, most were just happy to have a little silence after the week of Fel storms and rushing that they had to endure. "Noviar... ah. Right. That woman. Good. Please do not - letters can be intercepted. If the enemy knew, I fear our position would become very dire, very quickly. Not to mention the drama." The Blood Mage sighed. "What did you tell her?" -- Verena practically frowned at him. "I assure you I am not that stupid, Velonar." She seemed to emphasize his name as she said it, intentionally using his first name as if to remind him that before the current situation they had come to be tentative friends at least. She did at least say it with a low tone so as not to draw more attention to them. She sighed. "I simply told her that I had taken her daughter into my protection and that she was safe. I -finally- received a reply." She held up the rolled parchment she'd been carrying, but spared a once-over gaze of Velonar, down and back up. -- Finding the parchment, Velonar's nose crunched. He didn't look angry, but rather gave Verena this look of almost childish dismay. His brows rising, head tilting slightly lower, everything seemed to say '...again? Really?' Pressing his lips, the Elf looked down and sighed, resigning himself to this fate. "Alright. Okay. Lets..." he paused, looking at the door. "Do you want me to read it? I'm guessing the little shit shouldn't hear this."
--
Verena held the parchment out to him almost insistently and nodded. "I am sure you know her better than I do. I've only recently been acquainted with the lady, you'll recall." She seemed to have no concern over his dismay or hesitation.
--
Receiving the parchment with a clear lack of desire, he pried open the wax seal and unrolled it to take a look. What would it say?
--
The letter was hastily scribbled on plain parchment in handwriting that didn’t quite match the presumed author’s – except for the signature. It read: Magistrix Wintour,
We are well and quite worried over Lansael. Silvermoon is safe and our estate has been warded by both myself and Logaine to be as protected as it can be. Further, we are arranging other locations to move to should things escalate again.
We greatly miss our daughter and want to see to her return to our care. You are also welcome.
Lady Doriandrin Noviar
-- Holding it as though an announcer or town crier of some very armored sort, Velonar seemed to quietly mouth the words out. His expression turned more and more neutral as he did. Clearly, years away from the court cost him the skill of not moving your lips to a letter's rhythm-- either that, or he just trusted Verena enough to not bother with such nonsense. "Warded." He stated, looking up to the magistrix and folding the letter in both hands. "Doriandrin wouldn't give a second thought as to warding and any such magical nonsense. She'd say her home was safe, and that was that. Who wrote this?" he questioned, handing the letter back. "The woman is mad about her children. I once called one of hers a cunt for being a disobedient wretch when she tried to join my corps. She wouldn't live it down ever since." Velonar shook his head. "Maybe she's learned to speak 'politics' since becoming a lady? Either way. The woman wants her kid back." -- Verena listened to his words carefully, gleaning any wisdom he had on the subject from him. She considered his history with the lady, his supposed bitterness toward the subject, and the words that were on the page before speaking. "You don't belive she wrote it," she observed. "I had always heard that the lady was a bit of a hot-head. This letter is very diplomatic and ... cool. No doubt she wants her kid back but you seem to indicate you don't believe she warded her house? You think she lies?" She peered at him quizzically. This is why she had come to him. He knew Doriandrin in ways most people didn't dare or care to. -- "I think." Velonar paused, looking down and narrowing his eyes. He frowned a little, but didn't seem as agitated as he once might've been. "I think her wards wouldn't be enough for one. She must've hired another wizard to help in that regard. If the Legion was to come to Quel'thalas..." Velonar sniffed through the nose, pressing his lips and shaking his head from side to side. He seemed disappointed. "Probably wouldn't do much in the long run. That said, I believe her husband was a magister? Maybe he believes in his own magics enough to claim that folly. Either way, assuming you folks aren't playing any kind of game-- of the political, of course-- then this is just a feeble attempt at getting someone else to write something coherent for her. She isn't eager to offend you, Verena. Or at least, her magister might've intervened after realizing who she'd be going off on." He paused again. "I honestly don't see the complexity of this situation. If you'd like to elaborate why there'd be ulterior motives, other than her obsession with children... please, enlighten me." Velonar lightly shrugged. -- Verena's eyes were wide as she peered at him. "I believe you are correct. There is no complexity here. You have confirmed -- or rather solidified -- my suspicions." The next she said with confident determination. "Lansael is safer with me. Even here." She gestured with one hand out to indicate the military encampment they stood in. "So the next question is how I should proceed. The girl obviously loves and misses her family, and that is something that is sure to become more troubling and problematic for me as time goes by. At the same time, I can't help feeling some sympathy for Lady Noviar. I'm sure I would stop at nothing to be reunited with a child that was apart from me against my own will. I need to convince them somehow that this is for the best." -- Velonar's eyes narrowed on her. "Are you implying I should do something? The girl is hers legally. By all rights, what you've done is kidnapping." He paused, glancing to the door beside them. "Though I personally don't have a stake in this fight, it's true that I could perhaps state that she's under my guardianship for, say, trespassing in a war zone and is therefore forced to be a guest in my encampment. But what will that do?" Velonar furrowed his brows and leaned back slightly. "It's just some brat of Doriandrin. Unless she proves otherwise, I haven't the words to mince. She has the potential to become special, and perhaps even powerful in the future. If you believe that growth will be ruined by being near her mother, then why not take things into your own hands? Shift the adoption. You have the power to do that." -- Verena blinked at him repeatedly. "I didn't mean to imply that I wanted you to become actively involved in the situation. And I don't consider protective custody to be kidnapping, especially when my intentions were nothing but good. The world turned to chaos and I did what I felt was best. Only now am I faced with the knowledge that her family is well and prefers her to be in their care -- danger not withstanding. Perhaps in the courts she would bring kidnapping charges but we both know that would not stick. And yes, I could shift the adoption but ... at the moment I don't find that necessary. Given the proper tutelage and attention Lansael will be grateful and loyal to me no matter who her family is. I do appreciate your ideas but ... there must be a more subtle way to solve this." She cast her gaze aside and softly bit the corner of her lip in thought for a moment. "The only solution I see right now is to return to Silvermoon and remain close to Lansael and therefor her family as well. ... Although I do miss the luxuries of my own home." She paused to peer at Velonar. -- Velonar eyed her, the visible shrugging just growing more and more pronounced. "Erm. Alright, that sounds fine. I'm sorry, I ah... I'm a little accustomed to using force in my politics. I'm sure you're all too aware by now." He paused, looking at the door. "You could try making..." he struggled with the name for a moment, though the poker face saved it. "...Lansael understand and be okay with this predicament. If she informs her mother that she wants to stay, then it'd be an appeal to the emotional. Otherwise, I would personally come straight about the whole affair. That she's safer here, in the finest standing fighting force on all of Azeroth. So far she's been quiet and polite, and hasn't pissed me off like some other little shits might've, so I'm not kicking her out. There's that." -- Verena lifted an eyebrow at him and nearly smirked. "You suggest that I inform Doriandrin that her daughter is with the Third. I'm not sure that would go over very well for -either- of us." -- Velonar bobbed his head, appreciating that fact a little. "You're wrong. It wouldn't go over very well for her, and assuming the forces I've brought under your command aren't up to snuff, possibly for you. I trust that death knight that spoke up though. What was his name again? Good lad, foremost bannerman, I thought." -- Verena continued to smirk, "Oh I'm not implying they have the means to challenge either of us. But you might end up with Doriandrin on your doorstep and I doubt she'd willingly allow me to mentor her daughter anymore if she had a say in it. ... I think you're referring to Leon -- the one who assisted in the matter of the enemy within my own house?" -- His brows rose and the general smiled, wagging a finger towards Verena. "Yes! Leon! That's the guy! I've spoken to him, but only briefly to confirm support. Things were rather confused back then for most of your bannermen, I had to set some straight. He has some pedigree in combat, squired in the second war, fought in the third. Not certain of his strategic prowess, but he's reliable. That's all you need where politics are concerned. Reliable, loyal swords." He returned the smirk. "That said, if the lady An'daran wishes to trudge for six hours on foot under the guard of my grey legion, like a prisoner all the way to camp, she's welcome to do so. Her contribution to my war effort was paltry. Her contribution to my psyche rivaled that of any enemy general. I have no qualms of telling her to promptly go eat a fat one. At least she'll be good at that. But that is more out of a personal spite. I would still like it best if you settled this so I didn't have a wailing mother blaming the world's ills on my shoulders. Enough ungrateful shits do that as it stands." -- Verena shook her head with a "tsk" at him for a moment. "I'm sure you were not the first or the last, but I am sure the lady did not intentionally go to war with your psyche. As for her monetary contributions, give me time and perhaps I can loosen her purse for you. As far as the current matter, I will find a way to handle it. Your ... intelligence ... on the matter is appreciated though. Without it I would have to base my decisions on our few interactions, hearsay, and speculation." -- Velonar rose a hand before his chest rather promptly, indicating a 'stop'. "You won't. Such a thing is not necessary. The day I wish to owe Doriandrin anything again will be the same day I cut my legs off at the prospect of groveling. Just keep her at a distance, that's all I ask. Did you plan on telling the kid about this?" --
Verena peered at him. "Telling her about what, specifically?"
--
"The letter, and what you intend on doing." Velonar watched her curiously. Wasn't it obvious that Lansael shouldn't know? That the kid would freak out..? -- "Well," she answered matter-of-factly, "I'm not completely decided on what I intend on doing or how to handle it. I may tell her that I have been in contact with her mother. That should at least provide some comfort. In the meantime we will work on her lessons and that should keep her mind occupied. I am personally still not convinced that Silvermoon is as safe as they claim." -- Velonar rose his chin, and the brows rose with it. "Occupied. I suppose that is fair." Velonar paused, turning to the door and eyeing it carefully. "Silvermoon is indeed not safe, but that is why I am here. If you hadn't noticed, the Legion has the ability to appear anywhere it wishes, at will. We've been working against the schedule until you've intercepted that transmission." He paused, giving Verena a look of acknowledgement. "That was the significance of your task, helping us understand when and how they will strike. From there, our abilities are magnified exponentially. We will test that ability soon. As for Lansael..." He looked back to the door, head tilting to the side slightly. "Had I not forced my self in the politics I wished to be involved in, had I not made allies early, I would have no support when leaving for Silvermoon. I would be unable to strike my father without the training and wisdom they had given me. All war is deception, be it with swords or speeches. I suggest she begins understanding that sooner, rather than later, or my words of choice would've been for naught. Even now, I suspect she is listening... just behind the door." He gave Verena a brief look. "Or I might just be paranoid." The corners of his lips drove out into a smile. -- Verena smirked at him again. "Ah, you -are-that. But you may not be wrong either. You rarely are, it seems." She gave him a faux-annoyed look and a scrutinizing glance. -- He shook his head. "I don't like to deal in vague implication. You've got the key. Go on, see how fast she is at getting to a seat." -- "Trying to get rid of me?" -- "I do have work to do. Not to mention, discussing Doriandrin and her child..." Velonar pressed his lips in a very frank way. "I suppose I'm not immune to politics either." -- "I have to admit that I find it regrettable that it seems to be all we've talked about lately. SHE is a particular distraction for you when referenced in any capacity." Verena frowned as if this fact greatly disappointed her. -- "It doesn't help if she's a recurring theme in my life. I am a man of blood and steel and victory, Verena. Some odd forty years ago, I made my choice to be that. I made my choice, I picked up my sword, and I did not look back since. Now this woman is forcing me to look back in the walking daylight, when I am at last relieved of the nightmares that haunt me in my sleep. I am forced to endure the blame of a lacking attention to a woman whom I had once given my heart and Light. My only days of rest, wasted on her incessant hoarding and qualms and.." Velonar spat the words like venom, growling. "Social... garbage I had given my life to protect. Vanity I had sacrificed everything for." He peered down, a hard stare. A stare that stretched for miles and miles, that did not reach the ground. "I had thought once that she would be my chance at love. At life. But I now know the truth. My life is war. My life is this ever-ending world. From one brink to the next. From one chaos to another. That is why she is such a sore spot. That is why I contemplate time and time again to just drive Sanguine Morrow through her vile heart, and tear it out the same way she's done it to me. But I know, deep down, that it would be her victory." Turning his eyes to Verena, he scowled. "And I refuse to lose." -- Verena blinked and peered at him. "If what I have come to understand about her is true, the two of you should never have been a ... involved." She spoke as if she was diagnosing a disease. "You're both very passionate, unrelenting people. That's a recipe for disaster. And why do men always take it so personally when things don't work out in their ultimate and extremely self-biased favor? I can tell you I have loved passionately a few times in my life but never would I have considered destroying a person I held dear unless the way they hurt me was a betrayal that wrecked me forever. You are right about her winning if you killed her, for it would show your ultimate weakness and vulnerability when it comes to that particular subject." She paused, sensing her words might seem too harsh ... but she did take his reaction to Doriandrin a bit personally, considering that she was technically, but only so far as etiquette was concerned, mourning. And also because speaking of Doriandrin made her invisible in the sight of Velonar, and Verena was not used to being invisible -- ever. "I don't mean to offend you by saying these things. I just wonder if perhaps you don't realize." -- Velonar sighed, uneasy. His shoulders rolled, now lowered down a tad. His hands drifted behind his back, underneath the heavy leather cloak that engulfed it. Clasping together, he cast his gaze forward again. "Of course I do. If I win this war, there may be other chances. Chances that might work out even better in my favor as far as something better goes. It should've never happened, you're right. I was driven in part by jealousy. By haste. By desire. I needed to know what it was like to love. To be honest with you, I'm not even certain if I have from that experience... There was so much lust, so much hate." The corners of his lips sagged, and he looked genuinely depressed. His face was frozen in sadness, no grim determination or power to it. Slowly, it turned anxious, and hardened in frustration. "Every time I obtain something of potential, it crumbles beneath my hands. Everything I touch, burns." His eyes turned to Fel green enamored, cold steel. "How can I not take that personally? I've crushed every enemy I've come across. My soldiers are the only ones that can resist my bruising touch." -- Her lips pouted casually at him. "Perhaps you just take it much too seriously?" she suggested. "Let it come to you. I married for political reasons and certainly never saw myself loving my husband as much as I did. Love can grow from friendship, casual lust, even hatred. Don't put so much expectation into it. I am happiest when I give it no regard. What will be will be. In the meantime, I am fulfilled otherwise." Verena resisted the urge to reach out and lay her hand on his cheek softly and comfortingly as a means of encouragement. There were too many of his soldiers nearby. Instead she held her lightly closed hand close to her. -- Pausing, his eyes lifted to Verena. Taking his right hand out from behind his back, he turned to face her. He then rose the hand gently and set it on her shoulder, grasping it tight. "What will be, will be." He echoed her words, now looking a little more determined. "Though it pained me, I did not permit one woman to control my destiny. Nothing has the strength to do so! I've had my fill anyhow - outwitting an opponent at the table is just as fun. So... thank you." He'd let go soon after. "I should be going. There are bigger fish to fry than some Silvermoon trollop - if you'd like, you're welcome to join us tomorrow as we discuss more planning." -- She smiled at him. "I would like to do that. In the meantime, if you need anything to preoccupy your mind, to give it some rest, whether that be listening to poetry, talking, playing a game, or anything else," she leaned forward at that last bit, "please don't hesitate to call on me. I am a very versatile woman and I would hate to think I am only useful to you in one or two ways." She frowned at him to drive the point home. Then she once again gave an encouraging smile. -- Velonar blinked a few times, thinking on that. Glancing to the side for a moment, he considered the offer. "You know. I might take you up on that. We shall see!" He returned the smile, furrowing his brows. "If you'd excuse me." He paused before leaving. "The Pandaren cook said something about roasted quail today, I believe. Lansael must be hungry by now." He bobbed his brows once before departing. -- Verena stood there for a moment, looking around, returning to the world of the inn around her. "Roasted quail," she repeated before turning to go up to her room to check on Lansael.

















