The ramblings and Rp of a warrior. Main ooc blog for my toons Roland Naerth, 30+, may be NSFW at times, no minors. Main wow universe is @rolandnaerth(I always follow back! LGBT+ friendly of course)
He sat cross-legged on the edge of the sandy beach in Eversong, due west of Silvermoon along the sea.
It was remote but not so remote as to have been infested with Murlocs yet. Quite safe to bring the children and let them play on the beach and in the warm waves that slowly lapped at the sand.
It was a beautifully clear afternoon with a slight wind coming in from the sea. It was a warm wind and just enough to unsettle his long hair as it blew around his face in the breeze as he watched his children play.
This was a spot he knew well, he'd been coming here since he was a child. It had been at least 6 years since he'd seen it last, but to his delight it hadn't changed a bit. A small slice of paradise in his beautiful homeland. He hadn't realized how much he actually missed it until his return.
Lily and Braeden were currently arguing on the design and architecture of the sand castle they were building and Roland could not help but smile as he watched them.
Lily had remembered him instantly being older when he had left, so she simply started where she left off. Constant questions and chatter, it was almost non stop, only a break when she was distracted by something else like building things in the sand.
Braeden had been different. He was still stand offish with Roland, he didn't think Breaden really understood who he was yet. That was fine, it could take as long as was necessary, Roland wasn't going anywhere this time.
He was beyond thankful that Sylrissa had even let him come around again. If anyone knew the life Roland led, it was her, so there was a level of trust she was giving him that he neither deserved nor expected. He certainly wasn't going to ruin his chance she was giving him.
The threats he faced now would not harm his children. Jeroden wanted his head and nothing more or less than that. He wouldn't harm Roland's loved ones. He knew that for a fact so it gave him some comfort as he began spending more and more time with his children.
Still, he hadn't seen them in five years. A long time, and they had changed so much….Half siblings and cousins, what a mess to explain when they got older he thought to himself.
He found his mind and thoughts gave him a reprieve when the children were around him. The constant talk from Lily tended to keep him in the moment, as well as watching to make sure his son was behaving at any given time. It all kept him in the present and not dwelling on the past.
It was a welcome break and seemed to clear his head while he was in their company, allowing him to actually enjoy himself.
He couldn't change the man he'd become, it was too late for that. However he could make amends to his loved ones by making up for some of his mistakes…Sylrissa had given him that chance. He understood he had to compartmentalize his life more, insulate his loved ones and make himself more available. It was these thoughts when the children were around that gave him his much needed break from the constant guilt that had been wracking him since Jeroden had found him again.
You cannot run from your past, but you could hide for a short time. Whatever happened would be inevitable, but he didn't have to sit and loathe in self pity about it.
He would handle Jeroden when the time came.
His next stop was Maeskia.
He figured he would be ready now, with a few ounces of bourbon in his system of course.
Another from his past that brought up feelings he'd rather not have. Not regret with her, no it was an entirely different set of concerns with her.
With her it was to covet. To torture ones self with something that could never be had.
In short she made him crazy and always seemed to bring out the less savory side of the warrior. The selfish side, the envious side, the narcissist that was always just under the surface.
He'd prepared himself enough and he needed answers from her. He'd go ask and nothing more, if she could help or not. After that He'd leave her to live out her life and do as she wished.
His eyes glanced at Braeden and he smiled, looking at the only positive outcome of any of his dealings with Maeskia, ever. Also a link that could never be severed, a dark thought that invaded his otherwise peaceful afternoon.
Jeroden's reaction to Roland refusing to fight him had the somewhat predictable response he'd hoped for. Somewhere deep in the boy's mind was a sense of honor that hadn't been completely destroyed by his father, Roland had gambled his life on it.
Still, there was something odd about his behavior the night before, something Roland hadn't noticed before. The boy was fighting something and fighting hard. He'd almost cut down that strange woman right on the streets of Stormwind, but something had held him back.
It was the only explanation that made sense, whatever monster that had so corrupted his father years past had now set eyes on his son. It confirmed two things, that Kaeion was actually dead and that Jer was still somewhere in there.
It made the older warrior wonder, was it too late? Was there a way to stop his inevitable transformation into the same beast that had taken his father?
Roland had failed the boy, in many things, something that had been gnawing at what little conscience he had left since Jeroden had found him. He had thought of little else but his past since he'd run into his former step son, part of the reason he wanted to go home now.
Still, a part of him wondered if there was a way to stop whatever was literally eating the boys mind. Was it too late? Was it even possible? Kaeion had been far too gone to even contemplate such a thing, but Jer seemed to be fighting it still.
He knew if he at least tried to help the boy, his conscience might give him at least a slight reprieve.
Roland had little knowledge of such things, but there was one person he knew that could perhaps help, the problem was he hadn't seen her in almost a year. She seemed to have vanished as she was apt to do on occasion. He needed to find her, and he had an inkling on where to start, another reason to return home.
Roland sat back in his chair heavily, silent for a moment as he thought seriously about the question, swishing the glass of whiskey he had in his hands and staring into it, as if all the answers were somehow deep inside the glass.
He took a long sip, the familiar warmth running slowly down his chest bringing a quick smile to his face and perhaps enough confidence to try and answer the rather difficult question.
“There was a time in the not so distant past I wished nothing more than to have songs written of me, I may even have thought myself worthy.”
He said with a dry chuckle, taking another long swig of his drink as he began shaking his head.
“No, there will be no songs sung about me, perhaps a cautionary tale or two is all.”
He added, laughing dryly again at his own joke.
“Some things are better left unsaid and in the shadows. We all have skeletons perhaps, some more than others…But I have no wish for any action of mine to be remembered.”
He sighed, finishing the bourbon and setting the glass down.
He was silent again for a long moment, trying to choose his next words carefully, his brow furrowed in thought as he steepled his hands in front of him and rested his chin against them.
“It has taken some time, but I've come to accept that not all of us turn out to be the man we wished to be.” He said with a shrug and a small smile.
Roland’s eyes moved over his small and sparsely furnished office, shaking his head in silence as he enjoyed a glass of his favorite bourbon, a large cigar hanging from the corner of his mouth.
It was not lost on him how far he had fallen, just a look around his office was proof enough of that. There were many reasons business was not as good as it used to be in Stormwind, the weapons he often smuggled in years ago were now legal, plummeting the value.
His contacts had dried up after his three years in the stocks as well, losing touch with old suppliers who had themselves been caught or moved on. His network was rather small now, almost useless he thought to himself with an audible sigh.
Taking another long drag of his cigar he thought about his current problem, the one that kept him up at nights and going out after dark very little.
Jeroden….
There was one thing true about your past he mused, you can run, you can drown it in drink, you can change geography and your identity. It was all a waste of time, it always caught up. This time in the form of a full grown man who Roland had failed to raise properly and failed his mother spectacularly.
His step son had found him and wanted the sweet taste of revenge, Roland hardly blamed him. The past with his late wife was a painful memory, as was his failure with them both.
The memories flooded back like a wave and he fought in vain to block them out, taking a breath, and reliving the moment. He knew the words he spoke to her before she jumped from that window, he could not forget them even if he tried and he had many times.
Jeroden wanted Roland's head, and he didn’t even know the half of it.
Roland had caused her death, he knew that now. As much as he was able to deny it all those years ago. Roland might as well have pushed her out the window himself, he practically did with only his words.
I never loved you!
I loved your sister instead!
He took a long swig of his whiskey, trying to drown the memories once again, or at least make them a distant whisper in his head, the words replaying...Watching her fall....He shook his head to clear it but it was all playing out again and again. It had ever since Jeroden had come back into his life. Like a living reminder of his past and failures.
He had decided to move back home only recently, and was currently tying up his affairs for a return long overdue . Stormwind was a stinking city, he could never get used to the smell, and just thinking of his old home finally made him smile. Jeroden finding him had only made him more determined to leave.
He wouldn't fight Jer, the only thing that could make him feel more guilty would be to kill the boy. But Jer wanted blood and Roland had no deathwish. Jer reminded him of his father now, and that was a terrifying thing. Roland was not even sure he could beat him, he had never bested his father in all the years, and Jer was almost the image of Kaeion now.....
Yes, running, going home, he would let others label it. All he knew was that the further the better from Stormwind.
Just found out that "two fingers of whiskey" does not mean slowly caressing the bottle and gently teasing its hole until that beautiful decanter of delicious brown liquid can take you inside itself and moans your name into your shoulder but does in fact just mean two ounces
Cunning, self serving and patient, Cebina is only interested in power and money. Using her body as a means to get close to people, she will lie, use, and kill, without hesitation or regret, in order to get what she wants.
Current Situation: Enjoying mingling with the Venthyr in the high courts of Revendreth, finding leverage where she can while acquiring whatever items of interest she can find.
The only thought that went through his mind as he watched the Ren'dorei walk away from him. Her sway was graceful and alluring, but above all else purposeful. He knew this, but still he could not help but be entranced as he watched her leave.
The woman of serpents was tormenting him, toying with him, and her reasons were beyond him up to this point.
It could be as uncomplicated as entertainment for her, a simple pleasure to plague him, or it could be something he could not foresee, something much worse, and Sylrissa was involved, and in that, his daughter. There was no denying this, there were others tangled in this, others he cared a great amount for. The thought of hurting them literally made him beside himself. It was seething in him, there was little else on his mind as of late, as he tried in vain to figure out her motives.
The whiskey and the noise of the Inn were not helping, his mood growing darker, he knew it was time to leave. The proposition had been made, a deal struck, and he would be damned if he made the wrong decision, as he was always apt to, especially with a woman like her. She reminded him of times forgotten, it was hard to think straight when he was around her, she was like some ghost from his past sent to haunt him.
Manipulative, vain, smart, and above all else, the attraction he felt. It was like a fire within him, he drank and numbed it, distracted himself as best he could with other women, but it was to little avail.
He had to have her, if only for a moment.
He knew his answer the moment she asked him, his mind had to play tricks of course, the little voice in his head he never listened to when dealing with the likes of the damn snake lady.
He left the Inn, making a long walk to his new home. Empty yet, but for a few necessities, he was suddenly very tired and needed sleep, it was a long trip to Qual'thalas and he planned to leave in the morning.
Stripping down, his mood was foul now, another drink before bed...Another drink to silence the voice, the damn voice, it was so loud sometimes, the void helped, as did the whiskey, but he heard it, and he heard it loud this night.
No matter.
I am what I am.
@maeskia @laceandhalos for mentions
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