tampered | Log Ongoing;

Log Ongoing;

When; In the Evening
Rating; PG-13 for violence and language.
Characters; Lady Sylvanas Windrunner

beast_at_bay
Summary; A bored leader of the free undead looks for a fight. A battle hardened warrior bored with the mundane gives it to her.
Log;

Sylvanas stood, looking about herself at the trees and other flora that abounded in the forests outside the City. The City itself, to her, was a wretched place of glass and noise--not fitting for any creature of culture or merit--and especially one of rank like herself. But, outside the city, it was a completely different place--a twisted amalgam of vegitation and creature, waiting to devour anyone who got too close.

It was quite intriguing to the woman. It reminded her of some of the places in Azeroth. A tone was struck within her with this thought, a reflection of the place she used to know, and wanted desperately to go back to.

With a sigh, she began to move, farther into the depths of the sprawling forest. Maybe something interesting would happen. Something that would get her mind off of all of this.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Gatts was going about his usual business. High-intensity training. A large section of the forest had been cleared out, already. With each swing, he carved through another trunk, the tree falling through the underbrush.

"A...few more..." he said, breathing hard, "And I can make camp."

Gatts preferred to be outside. At least he couldn't be trapped by an enemy as easily and he could have fresh air. The outskirts of the City were fine with him.

The loud sound took the Lady from her thoughts, and she looked up toward its source, one hand on her bow, and the other on her quiver in instinct. She moved cautiously, edging herself closer to the epicenter of the noise, until she finally came upon where it had originated.

A man with an overly-large blade. Hm. Doesn't sound out of the ordinary for a place like this, Sylvanas thought to herself, as she observed the man from a small distance away, still nestled in the trees. But, he may serve for some sort of amusement..

The Banshee Queen continued to watch.

Gatts had been in enough scrapes and situation to hone his senses well. He stopped his work and scanned the area. He couldn't place his finger on it, but something didn't seem...right. Nothing sounded or looked out of the ordinary, but there was definitely something not right.

"Who's out there? Show yourself. Now," he said, pointing his sword in the general area he was thinking of.

Sylvanas grinned at the man's calling out of her. He may prove to be even more than just a source of amusement...no. This could actually be quite entertaining...

The lady moved into view with elegance and grace, like a shadow slipping across the land at dusk. The fading light glittered against her pale skin like candlelight upon porcelain. One hand rested ready upon a very old, and ornate black bow, and the other now on the hilt of a small, but no less ornate sword. Her robes, obsidian, were crowned with a breastplate of beautiful silver, that seemed to show the many years of combat the Lsdy had seen. The hood around her head shadowed her face, but still allowed enough to be seen as for one to admire her. The grin she had gained at his vocalization still played across violet lips, which now the other could see.

"..Mm. You call out for me, warrior? Well, here is she who has answered."

Gatts quickly assessed the situation as she approached. As the camp's fire lit more of her, he could make out the weaponry, garb, and some of her features, but not if she had any hidden weapons.

"Hmm...She carries herself well, but not girlishly. Steady. A bow and a light sword, so she's playing to her speed and agility. Light, ornate armor. Coupled with her speech, maybe a noble of some kind?" he thought, stabbing his blade into the ground.

"And who might 'she' be? You have a name? You sound like a noble."

Sylvanas' grin faded into an august smile as she regarded the man before her.

He looks like he has seen many a great battle in his time. His face and body are scarred, and I've seen how he wields that sword. He is a warrior in the most classical sense..not mincing words on the battlefield, or anywhere else..

"You would be correct in your assumption, sir.. My name is Sylvanas Windrunner. The Queen of the Forsaken." She closed her eyes at this slowly, opening them again just as unhurriedly, her eyes setting upon the warrior once more. "And you, warrior. What would be your name?"

He cracked his neck and scuffed a boot on the dirt before addressing her, one hand in his pocket.

"Gatts. Just Gatts. I don't have any other name. A queen, huh? Can't say that means much here, since none of us are natives. Any reason a queen is runnin' around in the woods, spying on people? That's a good way to get hurt. When I first came here, I would have thrown a dagger at the first things that came out of the woods."

Sylvanas allowed a laugh to escape her, piercing the twilight air.

"I suppose you are right that in a place like this rank means nothing. But, even before that, I was a ranger-general...a fighter, much like you. Only I relied on speed more than strength." She looked up toward the tops of the trees, thinking back to a time long past, as she continued. "I heard a loud noise...and naturally I followed it. It is how I came upon you."

He crossed his arms and cocked his head, obviously growing bored.

"So? What business do you have? I noticed the disturbance awhile ago, which means you stayed and watched. What do you want with me?"

Sylvanas kept her eyes turned skyward, though her expression had become a bit more apathetic.

"I was actually looking for something to clear the tedium. The City's become quite boring as of late...I was looking for something to spark my interest, and bring me from this rut."

Gatts gave her a confused look. What did this woman want?

"Then go find a brothel. I'm not in the mood for those kind of games," he said, cocking an eyebrow, "Or did you come here for some sort of sparring? Most people tell someone about that ahead of time. I was about to wind down for the night."

Sylvanas once again allowed a noise of mirth to escape her. This man truly was entertaining. His obstinance was more than enough to prove that.

"Mm.. a fight does sound enamouring." She grinned at him, teeth showing, sharp and white. "And as they say, sometimes the best things are unplanned."

He noticed her teeth. Definitely.

"Take your hood down," he said, picking his sword up and hold it out to his side, "Show me your face. What are you? Are you one of them?"

Gatts' face showed no emotion, completely neutral, but his voice was full of barely contained malice. If she was a Godhand, all bets were off. He would have no mercy.

Sylvanas narrowed her eyes on him. Well, there was something that hadn't been asked of her in many a year.

"What do you mean one of them?" She was geniunely intrigued at this point, wishing to hear more. "You intrigue me.. and as such...I will oblige you." With one swift move of her hand, the hood was gone, and a cascade of argent followed it. Her face was in full view now, her silver hair catching the failing light. Her eyes, white and soulless were locked on him, their pupilless gaze boring directly into his. The markings upon her face only served to accent this, their dark purple hue accentuating the paleness of her eyes. Her ears protruded strangely through her hair, showing to the world what she used to be when she drew breath.

Gatts watched as she revealed herself. Strange features to be sure. A face that one might have called beautiful, if not for the white eyes and sense of malice that rolled off of her aura.

"You're...Are you some sort of fairie? No. Too big and strange feeling for that. What the hell are you?!" he snarled, his blade out in front of him now, covering half the distance between them, "Answer me."

As if on cue, Sylvanas had leapt back a few feet, drawing her bow, an arrow cocked on its string.

"..A fairie? No..I'm something you've probably never encountered." Her eyes narrowed, as a smirk grew upon her face. "..A former Sin'dorei. Who, through a horrible magic.became a Banshee. But, as she freed herself, was able to return to her fallen body." Her expression continued to darken. "A Forsaken."

"Well whatever the hell you are, I think you'd better put the weapon down," he said, his stance unchanged, "Right now. I don't like to fight women, but that doesn't mean I won't. And I sometimes have a hard time holding back."

His prosthetic left arm twitched against the hilt of the sword he was holding.

"Do it now!"

Sylvanas, for the umpteenth time that evening, allowed herself to laugh. She hadn't been this intrigued, or delighted in a long time..The last time, she believed, was in the days even before Nathaniel Blightcaller was her Champion.

"...What good would that do me, warrior? No, forgive me. Gatts." She kept a steady gaze and hand, the bow not moving an inch. "The moment I leave myself vulnerable...you would cleave me in half. And that would not be advantageous for either of us."

"Then I guess we're at an impasse'. Neither of us will leave ourselves open, woman. So what do you think we should do about that?" he said, a smirk creeping onto his face, "If you've got ideas, I'm open."

Gatts maintained his stance. Despite the blade's great weight, he held it as if it were a small short-sword. He wasn't even breathing hard.

"It seems you had the most amusing idea to begin with, Gatts.." The hand holding the arrow in place pulled it back slowly, inch by inch. "Maybe a good fight would be opportune for us both..."

"Gatts," rushed her, the blade moving straight forward for her head, "Stop playing, you bitch!"

He kicked a rock shortly after the thrust began, hoping to tag her if he missed.

And indeed, she did move, he missing her by a glancing margin. She felt the blade rush past her face, the wind from its force blowing her hair back. For a moment, she lost the placement of her arrow.

He is placing his entire strength into this...frivolity is the farthest thing from his mind...

In a fluid motion, Sylvanas re-cocked the bow, and fired an arrow, directed straightly for the other man's chest.

Gatts saw her going for the bow and tensed for a moment, trying to gauge her shot. Her lack of pupils made it difficult to see where she was aiming at, so he focused on the tip of the arrow.

"Rrrgh!" he grunted, rolling to the side as she fired and pulling his blade in. He immediately sprung forward, pushing the blade into the dirt between them and flinging it up in front of her.

"You picked the wrong meat today, demon," he yelled, rushing in and swinging the blade in a wide, horizontal arc.

The former Ranger-general tried to move, but was still knicked on her shoulder--not deep enough to truly injure, but just enough to hurt. Sylvanas growled low in her throat.

Does he really lump me in with those like Illidan? She shook her head, regaining herself, and readying another shot. No..I'm sure he doesn't even know of the Burning Legion...He speaks from his only experience... A wicked grin once more appeared on her face. Though...to have been able to draw blood...I must commend him..

Quickly, another arrow was shot from the Dark Lady's bow, aimed this time for the arm that was holding the sword.

The shot sliced across the top of his arm as he moved. He had forgotten that he wasn't wearing any armor. The simple cloth shirt he had on would offer little protection from arrows.

"Nice shot," he said, wiping the blood on his shirt, "But not nice enough. Perhaps you'd care to try against someone else with that ability?"

He dove to the side, reaching into a sack and pulling out a clip of crossbow bolts, which he attached to his arm. Two bolts flew out at her head and chest.

Sylvanas once again lunged to the side, one of the arrows still reflecting off her armor with an audible 'clink'. The other sliced through the space past her head, right between skull and ear, slashing the back of the latter appendage, almost cleanly through. A thick sensation began to pour down her neck, like chilled molasses, and Sylvanas didn't have to even care to notice that it was blood. Unlike those truly living, her blood was cold. Another attribute of Undeath.

"No.. I think you will do just fine." At these words, Sylvanas slammed her hands together, closing her eyes. Words began to flow like water from her lips, an old mantra, her hands beginning to glow with a violet aura.

He'll certainly enjoy this.

Twin orbs shot open, as the chant abruptly ceased, and both hands jutted outward, palms facing Gatts. A bolt, black at its core, but wreathed with a purple flame shot directly at him, aiming for his torso. "Shadowbolt!"

Rather than dodging the blast, Gatt's rushed through, using his blade cross-wise in front of him. It absorbed the blast and allowed him to power through.

"Cheap spells. Buncha' trickery. I've seen much more powerful magic from a friend of mine," he said, firing a few more close-range shots at her, then following it with a hurl of his blade, the massive weapon making a loud "whooping" noise as it sailed toward her.

Pulling her blade, the lady deflected some of the arrows, the other once again reflecting off her breastplate. But, as she delved to the side, the blade crossed her, opening another small wound upon her other shoulder, ripping the fabric. More of the somewhat congealed blood began to ooze from the spot, making the lady grin even further.

Skittering a little bit away, she regained herself, eyes upon the man she was battling. She needed an opening. She began to scrutinize her memories of the fight up to that point, trying to find any small weakness or open point that she could exploit.

After the blade embedded itself in the earth, Gatts gave a quick yank to the lanyard on his wrist, bringing the blade back to him. He cast aside the empty clip of bolts and retook his sword.

"I'm offering you the chance to back out of this with no further violence," he said, the campire reflected in his eyes.

"Perhaps you aren't one of the Godhand, but I will fight to defend myself if I have to."

Sylvanas gave him a quizzical look, as he spoke the words to her.

"You were taking this seriously..that much is quite obvious. However..I was not." The Banshee Queen took up a hand, pulling a bandage made of a strange cloth from a pouch on her belt. She began to bandage the wounds, the cloth shimmering slightly, and starting to heal what had been done. "I have no reason to fight you with malice, Gatts. You are quite impressive." She tore off a little from the bandage roll she'd been using, and tossed the cloth over to her adversary. "If you've any wounds, this would help you."

The former sin'dorei looked up at the sky, nodding once. "I do not want to continue in a battle that you believe is for a purpose other than distraction. A spar, I believe you would call it, is all I am looking for."

Gatts looked into her eyes for a moment, then slowly began to back away. His breathing slowed as he slumped slightly against his blade, centering himself.

"Your reactions didn't seem like somebody looking for a friendly spar. Somethin' about your aura seems a bit off," he said, stretching out and letting the tension flow out from his limbs, "But anyway, I guess you're reasonable enough, since you're not pressing the attack in return."

He sat on a nearby tree stump, rubbing the back of his neck and looking down at his arm wound.

"...I think I might need to try some of that stuff you're usin'."

Sylvanas nodded, pointing at the strip she threw toward him.

"Go ahead and bandage yourself with that. It will work well." She finished bandaging herself, and sat down, drawing her legs underneath herself. "...I'd imagine I feel a bit off. After all, what I have is not what you would normally call 'life'."

At this, Sylvanas once again drew one of her weapons, but not in a threatening manner. She turned her short sword over in her hands, inspecting the blade for any damages.

He turned the bandages around in his hand, looking at them, then began to wrap his wound.

"What do you mean? What are you? What are the Forsaken? It's a rather ominous name."

Sylvanas' gaze once again turned skyward, and a sigh issued forth from her lips.

"Do you have time, Gatts?" The Lady said, not turning her attention. "This story's quite a long one."

He visibly relaxed a bit more, pleased at the bandages effect.

"I've got time."

The Lady turned her gaze back to Gatts, her expression darkening considerably, which was quite a feat.

"..The Forsaken are....the free Undead. Those who broke away from the rule of the Lich King...and chose to fight back against him rather than be his mindless drones, and work for the will of nothing. To no longer be oppressed. To gain Freedom. The Undead are those who died during the destruction of Lordaeron, their homeland...and fell prey to the Plague. It was a culmination of the raids of the armies of the Lich King, the Scourge, and the Plague itself that destroyed that land...but many of its dead rose as Undead. I was one of the Scourge...a fallen elf of Quel'Thalas....who was risen as a Banshee. I was allowed to take back my body...and I found my will again..and led the Free Undead into victory in their fallen homeland of Lordaeron..where we reside at present. Our race...forsaken by life, by the living world, and by the Light itself....that is why we are called as we are. We struggle to survive....as many forces with for us to fall."

Sylvanas ceased speaking at this moment, wondering how well the warrior was comprehending.

"Hm...Well, I can't say I know a lot of the things you're talkin' about, but I get the gist of it. So you were basically slaves who rebelled against a master who bound your people?" Gatts asked, scratching his chin, "I guess that's far from the worst thing. But I can't say I know what "undead" means. I've seen the walking dead, but that was only when demons were possessing the corpses. They were also rotting, which you don't seem to be."

Sylvanas nodded, watching him.

"We are far different than just demons possessing corpses. We are corpses that have a form of life breathed back into us...a life that sustains us. We eat, drink and even slightly breath the same as you....and we can die the same as well. Our bodies, while somewhat dilapidated in some cases, have stopped the process of decay. So, while we may not look that appealing...we certainly are able to survive."

"Eh, well at least you exist. As long as you exist, there's always the chance of returning to what you were, right? Way I figure, if you can be granted some life, why not find a way to get it all back? Can't be impossible."

The Lady's eyes widened for a moment at that. To return to Silvermoon....no...no. She needed to stay with her people, with those that now looked up to her guidance. To chase the past was futile...but...

A smile, strangely warm, formed on her face. "Thank you, Gatts."

"No problem," he said, stretching an arm. A long silence passed between them for a moment, "So, you want somethin' to eat? I killed somethin' pretty big and I've had to cook the meat up in a hurry. Don't know how long things keep here."

He stood up and kicked a boot against the stump he had been sitting on.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Log Ongoing;

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject