Thread: Bare Bones and Sinew [WoW ArrPee]

It wasn??t so much that he hated the ruins, but that he hated the ghosts. The elf waiting outside the broken gates to what used to be Lorderaon proper wasn??t exactly young he had reached the age where the lines that appeared when he smiled stayed now, though that certainly didn??t worry him and send him running off to the Apothecary like many of his peers. In fact, he was almost fond of his developing wrinkles he??d spent too much time around humans and the lot of them saw the effects of aging as a sign of wisdom, not death creeping up on a race that had never quite gotten over the bitterness of lost immortality. After multiple millennia, he??d think they??d stop whining but they never did. Of course, it was thoughts like these that got him in the mess he was in. Something not quite there passed too close and the elf started, jerking his head to the side to try and catch it. Like always, the movement seemed too fast and he settled back against the column of what used to be a rather nice structure in a lovely garden. Now it was the epitome of decay cracks in the now stained stone had widened where diseased plants had pushed their roots and stems between the rock over the years, straining to reach the dirty light that filtered through the ever present clouds. Bad magic, it was, to leave such a lasting curse on the environments, and the natural philosopher found himself both fascinated and horrified by the way flora and fauna trickled back. In any case, it hadn??t frightened the horse who was doing her best to graze on what sparse grass there was poking its way through the cobblestones, which was as good a sign as any that it was simply the shade of a formally living thing. Another movement caught his eye, but this was slow and organic. Demothes sat up, tanned hand moving instinctively for the knife at his side until he recognized the approaching figure. ??Theresites,? he said softly, rising to his feet and matching his former student??s open grin. ??Any luck?? Unlike the older elf, who hid his nervousness well nothing save a few taps on the stone under his hand, Thersites?? fingers plucked along his colorful robe with a frantic sort of energy. The student was much more classically attractive to elves than his teacher where Demothes was almost dark by Elfish standards, of course, his messy dark hair unbleached or colored, Thersites was tall and pale and completely out of place in these ruins. ??I don??t know if I would call it luck, Professor,? he said with forced cheerfulness. ??A? ah, I found an escort. He might not be quite what you were hoping for, but he certainly won??t ask questions.? Demothes cocked his head to the side. A Forsaken, then, if Thersites was that uncomfortable. The free Undead weren??t all bad, he knew in a sort of theoretical fashion, the same way you knew that nasty medicine your mother fed you would make you better, not worse but they had a nasty habit of being mostly bad. If he was to be traveling with a Forsaken he had the feeling he??d only be replacing multiple, unknown threats with one very known threat. Better odds, but not entirely reassuring. ??Lovely,? he remarked in a tone that hinted he thought it was anything but and rested a long-fingered hand on his hip, pulling the dark traveling cloak back to reveal sturdy clothing underneath. None of it hinted at a wealth that might lead a man to target him for mugging. ??He??s on his way??