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@ollie-wra
Bloototem.
Bloooooooo.
Ollie Middleton is back on Azeroth!
Yeeeep. Bewaaaare, bewaaaaare!
Off course.
Either Stormwind had moved, Elwynn Forest had become a humid quagmire with fog that reduced visibility to less than a few feet, or the portal that Ollie had stepped through hadn’t delivered him to the destination promised.
Given the way his stomach had him doubled over against a nearby tree to deposit his breakfast for whatever (un)fortunate creature might happen along after him? His money’s on the latter.
Gasping for breath and idly wiping his mouth on the back of his hand, Ollie stood and at least attempted to get his bearings about him. The fog was far too thick to catch a glimpse of stars or sun, though the fact he could see at all indicated that it was at least still daylight. That was as far as it went. Just endless bleak, monochromatic grey stretching as far as he could see - except for down. The terrain underfoot was dark green and brown. Ollie took an experimental step, watching as black, stagnant water rushed to fill the space left by his boot. A wayward and unexpected thought came to him. How many bodies must have been committed to the ground here? Creature and human alike becoming claimed by the marshes, perhaps as easily and as quickly as tarrying in one place too long.
He needed to find higher ground.
Even if he couldn’t manage to actually escape the fog itself, he might at least be able to determine which way the sun was setting. With enough light, a stick placed upright in the mire could help to show the passage of the sun as its shadow moved, indicating west.
“Pick a direction then, Middleton.” He muttered unsteadily as his stomach roiled again. It could be a complete folly to just set off in a line in an unfamiliar, unhospitable place. But what choice did he have?
Return.
Rain. It damn near always seemed to rain in Tanaan now. The evening was loud with the sound of it pattering on the leaves and stones, frogs and other amphibians singing their praises. It just made Olliver pull his cloak lower over his brow and scoot closer to the fire. The coals spat and hissed in protest, but stubbornly refused to be extinguished.
Absently cracking his knuckles, Ollie reached out to turn the stick of skewered meat propped over the low flame. Axebeak. The birds were crafty and cunning, but well worth the effort. Not only did they serve as a hearty sized meal, but the hunter had found that the feathers were strong and sturdy – serving as superior fletching. Their namesake beaks could be wrought into handy (if not simple) hatchets in a pinch, too.
The past dozen months had been more productive, more formative than Olliver could ever remember a single year of his life having been – and he could not say that he was sorry for it. Hindsight offered him excellent perspective. He had spent a great deal of his recovery under Niandrian’s expert care regretting his decision to ever come to Draenor, but now he sat in the company of Rangari scouts and rangers having explored a great deal of Talador, Nagrand and Tanaan alongside them. An accomplishment that the hunter would never have dared even dream he might one day claim as his own.
A gust of wind brought the scent of sulphur sweeping up to their camp, silencing what quiet chatter there’d been around the fire. The smell of Felblight was nothing new – sadly the jungle itself had been corrupted within weeks of their arrival and now almost every corner of Tanaan was affected by it. It still brought a sense of unease, though.
“I tire of tarrying here.” One of the males uttered, just loud enough for the group to hear. The Draenei as a whole were exquisitely patient, but their idle hands grew itchy. Ollie had grown to empathise with that. “I tire of the stench of blight. Of sitting by while the blood of our kin has been shed once again by Demonic claw…” There were murmurs of assent. Ollie withdrew his meal from the fire and gently blew on it so as not to scald his tongue.
“So… What will you do?”
Ollie hadn’t really been listening to them. It wasn’t that this didn’t concern him, it just wasn’t really his place to comment. The hunter looked up mid-bite to find Xaavan, one of the point scouts, looking at him. Xaavan had become something of a friend (or at least Ollie considered him one), after having taken the most interest in training Ollie since he’d joined their group.
“Uh… I dunno. Go with you?” The question seemed a little redundant, given that he’d followed along and contributed to whatever their squad had been tasked with at the time. Cartography wasn’t exactly his strong suit, but his existing tracking skills had served them well. Xaavan had improved upon his scouting and sniping skills tremendously.
“Olliver.”
“Xaavan.”
“This is no longer your fight. You cannot hide forever.”
“Excuse me?” Ollie reached for his waterskin. Xaavan made his head hurt sometimes. “I’m not hiding from anything.”
The Draenei blinked. “You did not come into being by arriving in this world, Olliver. You left another life to come here. Perhaps this is the time you returned to it.”
Now it was Ollie’s turn to blink. There’d been occasional chit-chat about his previous life, but on the whole the Rangari were focussed on their tasks. That had suited Ollie, it made for a good distraction at the start. He shifted and set the skin down beside him again without having taken a drink.
“You want me to leave.” Not a question.
Xaavan was irritatingly and sometimes unnervingly serious. His gaze never left Ollie, and his bulk barely moved apart from gentle inspiration and exhalation. “I do not think that is what I said.”
“‘Perhaps it’s time you returned to your ‘real’ life’ sounds kinda dismissive to me.”
Xaavan smirked. A slow, subtle thing that was as much just the vague baring of fangs as anything else. “So you agree it is your real life.”
Friggin’ Draenei and their mind game, word play fuckery.
“I.. Look, okay, yeah. So I had a life before I came to Draenor. So? Pretty much everyone did, right? And it’s not like I had anything going for me there. Just knocked around with no purpose. This?” He gestures to the camp. “This is purpose. This is.. This is direction, and learning, and --”
“And it is time for you to take all this purpose and direction, and find another cause to fuel it into.” Xaavan interrupted. “There is nothing more for you to learn, Olliver. Not here. You have grown exponentially in your time with us, but the truth remains. You are not Rangari. You are not Draenei.”
Olliver snapped his cooking stick in half and threw it into the fire. Petulant. “I have nothing else.” No one else.
“I do not believe that to be true. And if it were? Then now is the time for you to seek out - carve out a path.” Xaavan clapped a heavy blue hand on Ollie’s shoulder, using the hunter as leverage to get to his feet. “I have faith that you will do great things, Olliver Middleton. But you must do them in your own lands, amongst your own people.” With that, Xaavan left the hunter to his thoughts.
The quiet chatter amongst the others continued long into the night. Ollie felt he would never sleep, his mind too busy turning over the things Xaavan had said. Yet it was almost dawn when consciousness found him again, and the hunter found only the embers of the campfire had stayed to keep him company. A note was tucked under his waterskin, though.
Dioniss aca, Olliver Middleton. May your days be long and your hardships few.
17. ^^
17. Does your character have dreams of getting married and/or having children?
Not actively. I don’t think he’s really considered marriage being a real possibility for him - it isn’t that he’s disinterested in the idea, he’s just never really entertained it. Which is odd, considering how he longs for a serious relationship and how much of a dreamer he is. It might be something that would occupy his thoughts more often if he was in a relationship, though.
As for children - he likes them well enough, but it’s highly unlikely he’ll ever have any of his own. I can’t imagine he’d be interested in adoption, either.
🙋 - I had several I wanted to ask and I legit forgot every one. SO!!! Gimme a random fave headcanon!
Ollie keeps seemingly unimportant ‘treasures’ from people in his life he’s loved, and has them on his person at all times. Sebastyen’s fang pendant is around his neck, the arrowhead @etharion gave him attached to one end of his bow and the charm from @thoran-barrett attached to the other.
me: i love my ocs dearly i've put a lot of work into them and made a point to make them all unique with their own personalities and characteristics to make them all well rounded ! :)
someone: can you tell me more about (x) oc and/or oc settings?
me, sweating nervously and glancing side to side: well,, they like ,, chees e
1. Want to RP.
2. All RP toons are effectively inactive.
3. RP seems apparently non existent in game.
4. Sit in game doing nothing.
5. See: 1.
well yes of course i want my otp to be happy
but first let me see one of them choking back tears at a hospital bedside while the other lies in a coma (◉‿◉✿)
Consciousness.
Nngh…
“It is the hour of two in the morning --”
Ollie swallowed. His throat was dry, and it hurt. His head hurt too, come to think of it.
“And it is the twenty-ninth day --.”
He furrowed his brow in an attempt to comprehend the situation, but that just made his head hurt more.
“ -- of the month I am told your people call ‘November’, if you wanted to know.”
What was that voice was saying? It almost sounded like whoever it was was speaking underwater, the words were so hard to understand. Ollie groaned again and went to rub the gritty sleep from his eyes. The instant he tried to move, pain shot through his shoulder, sobering him instantly. It drilled down through the bones of his arm and along his collarbone, lancing across his chest and causing him to writhe and cry out. Nausea clenched down suddenly on his stomach, bringing up bile in a further insult to his dry, rough throat. Cool, blue hands gently pressed him back against the bed.
“It is alright,” The Draenei said softly.
It most certainly is not alright, everything hurts! He wanted to shout, though not everything was hurt.
“You must be still,” The Draenei insisted. “The milk of the Talador Orchid has kept you asleep for many moons now, but there is still much for your body to heal.”
Ollie gasped for breath. “W-what, what happened?” He managed to ask.
The Draenei blinked slowly. “You have been injured.” He said simply, as though Ollie was not completely aware of the fact.
His torso was heavily wrapped with bandages. Beneath the soft white gauze, wounds burned like fire across the upper left side of his chest. He tried to lean up against the Draenei’s hands to look, but the effort quickly tired him and he slumped back against the pillow; good hand instinctively coming up to carefully support his ribs.
“What about my shoulder?” he asked. The question hitched in his throat on the advent of a surge of pain as he tried in vain to get more comfortable.
The Draenei, having removed his hands, now reached for a cool cloth to press against Ollie’s sweaty forehead. “Ah, yes. The bones had come free of their bindings and required relocation. It would also appear that this one—“ His finger hovered in the air over the hunters’ collarbone “Is broken. Some ribs, also.”
Ollie’s good arm flopped back against the mattress. “Great.”
The Draenei tilted his head curiously. “How is such news ‘great’? You are seriously injured.” He said solemnly. Ollie breathed out a ghost of a laugh, managing a weak smile.
“It's just an expression, uh.. Hey, what’s your name?”
“I am known as Niandrian.”
“Niandrian,” he repeated in little more than a whisper, closing his eyes. He was so tired. “I’m Ollie.”
Unlucky.
The moment the ozone of the portal dissipated, the heat unfurled over Ollie like an oppressive weight, draping itself over his shoulders and constricting his lungs. It wasn't that he hadn't expected the desert to be hot, but he had no real experience with a dry heat like this was.
Everyone seemed to be on edge though there didn't appear to be an immediate threat of any kind, judging by the way people seemed to just be sitting around. Veterans eyed him warily as he passed, clutching their mugs of liquor despite the early hour. Ollie supposed it was noon somewhere in the world. Lieutenants and commanders turned their backs to him, and it seemed he was free to poke about the camp. As he grew bolder, he ranged further out of the boundaries of the Alliance held territory, scouting for useful items and materials. Orc corpses interrupted the red terrain, untouched save for rudimentary searches of their pockets for items of value.
He had never seen an Orc up so close, and as he set to work with his knife slitting seams of one Orcs hauberk and pants, he couldn't help but look upon the brute in awe. It was massive, and even in death looked aggressive. Ollie couldn't help but wonder what their beliefs about the afterlife were, and when he was done salvaging the leather he recited a small blessing of peace. Maybe Fenyr was rubbing off on him, but maybe he just couldn't stand the thought that the Orc had died without anyone to care for its spirit.
By the time he returned to camp, he had a shoulderload of leather and a pocket full of missed trinkets. The camp was even more restless; fuelled by bloodlust, alcohol and testosterone. Ollie began to second-guess his decision to come here. The atmosphere was hostile. Volatile. Clearly his best course of action was a hasty retreat through the portal that had brought him here - he would turn enough gold to get by.
"What do you mean 'no return'?"
The mage just looked at him. "You're here to defend Azeroth, are you not?" He sounded bored, as though he had recited the same question to any number of adventurers who had changed their minds about being there.
"No!! I came to retrieve the surplus and take it back to Stormwind! There were flyers posted up in the trade district!" The magister just laughed dryly.
"Surplus? That's a good one. Hate to tell you, but you were got good, kid. Think about it. When has there ever been a surplus where war is concerned? Damn good recruitment tactic if ever I heard one though."
First Ollie gaped at the mage, then when he tried to speak he just stammered. The mage waved a hand dismissively.
"Look, you got the short end of the stick, that's about what this boils down to. Some friendly advice? Don't waste your energy getting bent out of shape about it, 'cause the only portal you're gonna be going through anytime soon just had a fuck tonne of Orcs come outta it. Better get some target practice in, kid."
Profiteering
Olliver fingered one of the many large official notices plastered all over the trade district of Stormwind. A number of them had been defaced with crude annotations, but they were (for the most part) still readable.
The Alliance had a surplus of supplies that had been garnered by the efforts against the Iron Horde in the Blasted Lands. To abandon them would benefit the Horde; to destroy them would be pointless.
The message was simple. First come, first served.
Ollie sucked on his teeth thoughtfully. It wasn't the travel that appealled to him, nor the "adventure". It was the idea that for maybe a few days work repurposing the leather he could cut off fallen Orcs (and pocketing whatever other valuable bits and pieces he might happen across in the meantime), he might just earn some gold for his trouble. HIs coinpurse had always been light, that was no secret. But after everything that had happened and everything that Fenyr had done for him, he'd been cultivating the idea of earning enough money to make sure the Matron could employ some additional help for a few weeks in order to convince the paladin to escape the city with him for awhile.
A day or two of salvaging materials from a warzone couldn't hurt, could it?
♦:Someone I follow and never roleplay with but enjoy watching from afar
I don’t think I’ve actually RP’d much with most of the WoW folks I follow, other than radelathornley, but ollie-wra probably tops the list in terms of “person whose RP I always read every time.” I’ve also enjoyed reading about isyris' trolls, particularly Chirr'ka. :) (His drawings of his characters are also awesome: trolsyris)
Oh my goodness!!! I'm so flattered thank you so much asdhheiskskisjs