Even before the Farstrider turned towards her, his mouth a line of regret, before Tyrric gave a ragged cry and dashed forward, Mirium knew. Mirium knew, and suddenly her world would never be the same.
I had written this many months before, but the dramatic wording of it caused me to not post it until I could go back and edit the tone down a little. Months later, the tone isn’t edited down by more than a few word changes, but I’m calling it good enough to post despite my misgivings.
Though not an exhaustive look at the Sunwalkers’ doings during the Second War of the Warcraft universe, this hits the major happenings: Keelath’s death, Evelos’ departure south to join the Alliance, and Mirium’s downward spiral into losing her Light magic.
I’ll be the first to admit that the plot line between Keelath and Mirium is a bit of a mess. Keelath’s characterization of being a cold, unemotional death knight is pretty inconsistent at times, and I have to be careful to not overdo the kissy-kissy scenes, which irritate me personally and, I’m sure, my readers as well.
This was an earlier attempt at a reunion for the couple, which would have taken place sometime between Evelos being cleansed of the n’raqi and the faction war picking up again in Darkshore. I decided ultimately to do away with it, as it seemed too easily resolved at the time, and closed off an alternate storyline that was picking up between Mirium and Tyrric and his wife.
I still like it and post it however, for it shows a more determined side of Mirium that we don’t get much of while she’s struggling with trauma and some minor N’Zoth corruption, as well as keeping the contrast strong between Evelos and Keelath: a sensitive son vs. a relatively insensitive father. This is Mirium at her best, and an iconic interplay between all three characters. Continue reading “Deleted Scene: Another Reunion”
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.