A short story about the father of my Engineer. I hate him, he’s an ass, and he embodies everything I hate about Paladins.
This story is actually lead up to a mini event between @goatzintheshell and myself :v)
He sat at a table across from a fellow Elf, sharp green eyes gazing at the wine glass in his perfectly manicured hand. He sat with perfect posture and wore an expensive and regal outfit. He smiled a perfect sneering grin on his perfectly chiseled face, framed by perfect and shiny blond locks. He was perfect, or at least he thought so.
Valthyris Rosefury seemed out of place in the grungy Horde Camp, though still acted as if he owned the place. He sat on top a fresh towel, as he refused to let his precious robes touch the mud caked barrel that no doubt had been sat on by dirty Orc and Goblin rumps.
“The Legion draws near, Rosefury.” The other Elf said, his eyes cold. “I can feel their Fel-Tainted presence, even from here.” Valthyris nodded, that smiling sneer still on his face.
“The Light will strike them down. They will bathe in the searing fires of hell just as every vile creature before them has.” He sipped on his wine and looked around. He noticed that across the camp stood a very small, thin Forsaken boy. His black mangy hair hung across his eyes, and his bony fingers were twiddling together nervously. Upon realizing that Valthyris was staring, or rather glaring at him, he slowly approached the pair of Elves. Valthyris and his companion both looked as if they had a piece of dung stuck under their noses as the boy drew close.
“U-uh excuse me but. Did…is your last name Rosefury?” The boy asked in a quiet voice. He couldn’t have been more than 14 when he died, and was far too frail looking to be a solider. He was very brave for fighting for the Horde despite being so clearly weak. Valthyris didn’t care about any of this, (though he felt a smug sense of pride at being recognized). The trifles of fame. He thought to himself.
“Yes.” He responded. “But you will address me as Valthyris.” His tone was very condescending. The Undead boy blinked, rubbing his hands together tighter. It sounded like twisting rubber. He parted his hands and brushed his hair away from his eyes, revealing that he in fact only had a left eye. The right was merely a hole. Valthyris very obviously cringed at this, but the boy politely pretended that he had not noticed.
“I thought..you looked familiar!” He said, sounding a mite more excited. “Your- You have a daughter named Ty, err Tyrestra right?”
“Certainly not!’ Valthyris snapped at once, ruffling up like an angry bird. “How dare you claim to know me!” But he was lying. Unease tinted his voice and the anger with which he responded was too out of place considering the question.
The boy jumped at Valthyris’s reaction and looked around nervously. “I- I’m sorry! I thought…I swore you look just like her. I met her- she worked with the Tauren Chieftains.” His eye lit up. “S-she let me meet the band members, she took me through the back because I couldn’t afford the concert. S-she-”
“No daughter of mine would dare work with that shameful display that calls themselves music.” Valthyris snipped, cutting the boy off. “Yelling and smelling, an insult to the ears.” He sniffed. “I would only have a daughter who was proud, a servant to the light, obedient.” He leaned over the boy and stuck a thin finger in his face. “You will not question me about her again!”
The boy yelped and scampered away. Valthyris was highly ruffled at this point, and turned back to his companion who held the same cold expression. He knew that Valthyris lied, he could see how his skin flushed and how his eyes darted around the camp. But he said nothing.
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Nights past, and Valthyris couldn’t get that low breed Forsaken out of his head. The Rosefury name is tainted. He thought bitterly one early morning, pulling on his shining golden armor. They were to march to the nearest Legion encampment that morning, in an attempt to dwindle their numbers. I am to be recognized for my deeds. My faith to the light. Not because of my wreck of a child. He picked up a golden shield and hammer, walking out of his tent and into the open camp. Troops were milling about, anxious to get moving. And where is she now? Off gallivanting with disgusting, lesser breeds than our own? He strode over to the entrance to the camp. I will not be known for fathering such a disappointment.
He stuck his nose up and curled a lip, squeezing the hilt of his hammer tightly. He was ready to reclaim his name.
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“Tal anu’men no Sin’dori!” Valthyris yelled furiously, raising his hammer into the air before swinging it down atop a demon’s head, leaving a golden trail of light. “Shindu fallah na!’ He yelled again as the demons surged over the lifeless bodies of the Horde soldiers. There were too many, much more than they expected. Valthyris refused to budge, killing demon after demon, uncaring that he was hopelessly outnumbered. He heard a screech and looked over; a very small solider with too-big armor leapt at a Fel-Guard that had a Tauren in it’s claws. With an easy, clean sweep it swung it’s weapon at the small solider. He went down, crumpled into a broken mess. Good. Valthyris thought bitterly.
His distraction cost him; as he looked back forward a Felbat came swooping at him. It gripped him in it’s talons, lifting him a few feet off the ground before tossing him onto the hard, rocky ground. He landed with a thud, and felt a sharp pain shoot up his leg. My foot.. he thought furiously. Being thrown out from the thick of the fight, he finally had time to realize how outnumbered they really were. A fleeting thought crossed his mind, and driven by anger and blood loss, he pulled out a roll of parchment and a pen from his robes and began to scribble a note. He wrote it in Orcish, purely out of spite. The reader spends enough time around the beasts.
He sealed it, and with a short spell it disappeared in a flash of light, shooting up towards the sky. There. He thought tiredly, pushing himself to his feet and turning to face the battle. I will grant her the chance to fix the name she has broken.
