Greetings and salutations fellow children of the light. have you accepted the warm embrace of our guiding light into your heart and into your homes? Here take a pamphlet! there free =D
It’s all scribbles in Shath’Yar. the words etch deep into your character’s psyche.
attempting to infect you with the madness of the void
Milnae absently takes a pamphlet from the Undead’s hand, fingers running over the parchment. Her head turns towards the individual, observing her essence through the silks covering Mil’s eyes.
Without taking her gaze from the individual, she opens the parchment and gently feels it with her fingers before looking down. The paper glowed disorientating with purple and blue twisted magic. It was just so… interesting, pulling her mind to it like a fishers line.
The responded to the undead’s greeting with a slight smile and she remembered holidays that were devoted to the Light. “I remember 'anding zhese out too, when I first became a paladin. Let see what changes 'ave-” She opened the pamphlet and saw the scribbles in Shath’Yar and a voice whispering entered her mind.
“No one, will ever love you.” It whispered, “You will always be alone.”
She shook her head slightly and closed the pamphlet, “Zhese are all over Blackrock Mountain.” She announced, “While I 'ave always admired ze Twilight 'ammer’s level of tolerance toward ah-za races. I would warn you not to let zem make you do some-zing more extreme. Zey 'ave attacked misguided before.” She hands the pamphlet back to her, waves goodbye, and leaves.
Dermos takes the pamphlet with a smile in his face, opening it and taking a moment to peer through it’s contents before chuckling to himself and looking up to the person who gave it to him. “Ahaha, I cannot read thalassian, sorry!” And walks off, crumbling the note in his hand and tossing it into a bush or tree planter.
Sneering, Glaidena takes the pamphlet. She had let the Light into her heart once, but now she doubted anything could convince it back in. But she still tries. She unfolds it, and her heart skips a beat. Shath’Yar. It is written in Shath’Yar.
Oh la la, look what we have here. One of your Sisters, my pet!
The voices tugged at her mind, and she almost believed them. Ever since she had turned 10 Glaidena had been cursed with whispers invading her thoughts, it was not her fault she was a shadow priest. Glaidena looks up from the eye-wrenching words, strait at the maniac who had given her the pamphlet. She is not my Sister. Thought Glaidena. She never will be.
“Do you know the difference between being evil and being unfortunate, undead?” began the human all to sweetly. “Being evil means you get to choose, being unfortunate means you don’t get to.”
And with that, Glaidena made the pamphlet shrivel up into nothingness.
Vanaelia, despite her better judgment, accepts a pamphlet from the rotting Scourge abomination undead filth Forsaken, forcing a polite smile in this neutral city. “Keep up appearances,” she thought to herself, “just be polite to this thing.”
Opening the pamphlet as she glances down, one of her eyebrows slightly raises. Nodding a bit to herself while she takes a few seconds to read it, her face takes on a more professorial look than usual as she turns it back so the person who was handing them out can see it.
“You have misspelled this word here, here, and here.” She sighs, shaking her head in more exasperation than annoyance. “This entire sentence…I’m sorry, this entire paragraph is conjugated so incorrectly that I am actually slightly impressed. This part here,” she points at an area on the pamphlet that promises the sweet ecstasy of horrifying nothingness, “is ineffective without the most basic of runes that takes less than four seconds to make.”
Vanaelia visibly fights an urge to roll her eyes, patiently moving her finger down the pamphlet. “This no longer exists, this never did, this should be a river (not a mountain), this should be a mountain (not a river), and this is not ‘grasping oblivion awaiting twilight’. This is actually ‘goat’. Yes, like the animal. So is this. And this.” She frowns, shaking her head in surprise. “This is also about goats. This isn’t even a sentence. It’s just the word ‘goat’ over and over. Anar’alah, why are you so obsessed with goats? Is that what you think the Void is? I’ve been there. It’s not.”
The elf narrows her eyes for a moment, then exhales in irritated recognition. “Wait. I know this one. This the one with the big dreams, right? Maybe of getting a higher ranking than goat?” Vanaelia looks down at the pamphlet, speaking directly to it. “Yes, darling, I know who you are. I know you hear me, too. I’m still not impressed. Neither is anyone else. If you want to actually make a name for yourself, the very least you could do is recruit people with minds that haven’t had the part of their brain with any writing ability rot away. Aim higher.”
Vanaelia stops, looking up at the Forsaken. “You have to understand that if I’m not honest with you, you can’t improve yourself. You have a lot of work to do. Also, your top is out of style. Even if it weren’t, that’s not really your color, darling. You’d think with as many eyes as the Void has, you would have chosen one that had an eye for color.”
“I’ll keep this, though. A memento of when I wasted five minutes of my time. Cheers.”
Vanaelia turns and walks away, tucking the pamphlet into her bag. No, this wouldn’t require any investigation. “Goatie” wasn’t exactly - what was the human phrase? - ‘bringing his ‘A’ game’ back when she had first been exposed to the Whispers. At this point, she was okay with officially downgrading Goatie from ‘annoyance’ to ‘nuisance’.
Rouge stands still for a moment, with a indifferent expression, then lets out a mirthful laugh. “You must be crazy to think I can read” she says giggling. She skips away laughing wondering how insane the dead could be.
(out of character for just a moment. i love this so freaking much. praise be the goaties)
(Vanaelia has her own way of dealing with some of these things. Glad you enjoyed it.)
Takes a pamphlet and later at some night in an inn, tosses it into a fireplace.