Inspired by a roleplay scene, as what was going through Tyrric’s head while the Sunwalker crew discussed how to cure him of his Void corruption. This would take place shortly after Tyrric was rescued from Ny’alotha, the Black City of N’Zoth.Author’s Note
Alelsa poked him in the ribs. At first he was merely annoyed: he wanted to sleep. Then, as she continued to poke, talked over him, he came more alert. Memories about who and where he was started to coalesce.
The expedition into the Black City had ended poorly. Everything had made sense until then. Now, nothing did, and the danger was — seemed? — constant. Continue reading “Tyrric’s Madness”
Perhaps this would seem like a small matter to you, but after the night ended, I was confronted roundly with my own arrogance… Continue reading “Brothers Apart, Part Six”
“Yes, but did you ever think about what it had meant to me?” she returned hotly.
“Isn’t that what I am doing now?” he asked.
Another quasi-comparison. What the brothers do when their spouses are upset…
Also, why is Tyrric such a jerk? Hmm, I wonder… Continue reading “Brothers Apart, Part Four”
There weren’t crickets in Orgrimmar. Or if there were, they were an overly-large, spikey kind that couldn’t sing. That seemed to describe a lot of things in Orgrimmar, Mirium thought, as she listened to the muffled howling of one of the orcs downstairs as he tidied up the Doomguard barracks. The first time she had heard him, she’d come running with a weapon in hand to beat back his torturer. With an offended frown, the orc grunted he was only singing a traditional sweeping chanty and that that the cat seemed to like it. Mirium had slunk back to her room amid more bellows of sweeping off enemy heads and sweeping enemy legs out from under them and even sweeping through a land in conquest, feeling mortified and quite confused.
I preface this by saying, to those of you who may have been paying attention to earlier posts about Mirium and Keelath Continue reading “Brothers Apart, Part Three”
Just Tyrric. Supposed to be safety. Helping her. He wasn’t. It was a lie, a horrid lie, and her anger bubbled, too great and terrible to express… Then the emotion turned to panic and pain.
An image from their childhood suddenly bloomed in his thoughts: an angry six-year-old smearing mud…examining it, Keelath suddenly saw through the outrage to what it was.