Tasharin's Tale

[Tanitha]

Well, after querying matters with the leader of this Inquisition (http://forums.worldofwar.net/showthread.php?t=390075) and after some prompting from Le Stigg, I've decided to brave the big unknown and post the tale of Tasharin here. This is essentially a literary adaptation of a story that is unfolding in-game on one of the RP-PvP servers where I play this character. The names and guilds and so on come from the real events.

I cannot promise to update it frequently - or even that it will be very good - especially after reading some of the work that I've fallen in love with here. With perhaps a tongue in cheek reference to one of the writers here that offers much in the way of entertainment and inspiration.

I would welcome all comments and suggestions. This is after all an opportunity to improve and work a talent which is oft neglected. So, if you are interested - walk with me as this unfolds.

[Tanitha]

A soft voice, whispering in a discordant caress of portentous words that filled her mind. Whenever her eyes closed and she drifted off to sleep the mad babbling of her normally taciturn companion entered her dreams. It spoke in the tongue of demons, words half heard and only partially understood but even so they filled her with a fear that clutched at her soul. And yet her body craved that peaceful oblivion, to sleep without dreams for but one night. It was not to be however.

"Tak-thass ahn caroush, caroush mush sogram" he said, each syllable sibilant and wrought of the stuff of madness. There were no images, nothing to focus on but a void without stars, a vast maelstrom of purple energies twisting and turning about in utter chaos. She was without form, drifting far above this while his voice spoke to her. Instructing. Telling her of what would be. No. Telling her what should be. Letters wreathed in dark flames danced across the cosmos, the script of a book vast beyond comprehension. A book bound with the fabric of reality, written in a tongue that delved into the subconcious. And through it all a name - a single name whispered one that pleaded for her to seek. That recognition shocked her. Varranda. She had to find him. Whoever he was. Whatever.

The last words on that infernal page burned into her mind - "Shaktur shoggoth anshur Varranda! Varranda!" before she blinked awake.

The pale blue void of Thogtast loomed threateningly over her and she scrambled back involuntarily with a short gasp. Despite the harsh sunlight of the Barrens burning through him those unblinking eyes watched her, a thoughtful silence behind them. It knew. It knew all about the dreams. The filthy thing knew! Her eyes narrowed as she watched the demon carefully, but his inscrutable gaze never wavered. This time though she was sure. The dreams started soon after she first wrenched him from the demonic realms and bent him to her will. Perhaps there was still some conduit - a link if you will - to his plane that was somehow seeping through her wards and afflicting her dreams. You expected nightmares once you began walking the path of shadow - one could not drag the dark and hidden secrets from their furtive hiding places without their touch polluting you too. This felt different though. These were not ordinary dreams and as she slept less and less their power over her increased. Master Thalarian had always warned her, caution where it is due and only grasp as much as you can handle. The addiction was strong though, to feel that dark energy coursing through her until her blood sang with the power. Even thinking of it now made her skin tingle and the small hair in the nape of her neck rise. The power was too much of a drug, the temptation always there to draw more. And more. Master Thalarian had also taught her that if you overreached you simply grabbed a few horns and held on for as long as necessary. It was bound to happen.

With a wry grin she gathered herself and dusted off her robes as she straightened. Thogtast, normally silent was speaking to her in her dreams. No, not quite Thogtast but something speaking through him. A book? A book of shadows she mused. Even beneath this stunted tree the heat was incredible - the sun a hammer beating down on this browned land and she'd lost her hat a few days ago. This land was nothing like the Eversong woods, she thought as a herd of Gazelle bounded across the road. Hot. Dry. Even a few sips of her water skin did little to assuage the thirst she felt here. There was little life left in the land, despite the abundance of beasts. She could barely sense the lines of power criss crossing this region and there was almost nothing to tap into. Dry indeed. Fortunately, as she consulted the rough map sketched for her by Frezza, it would seem that the Crossroads was closeby. Nothing to be done until she reached the Crossroads. There was an Inn there - a haven to rest for a few days and see if she could reach this - Varranda.

Perhaps he would have the answers she needed.

[Tanitha]

This late at night the inn was mostly quiet except for the sounds of tankards being shuffled around, the crackle of the fire and the occasional whisper of conversation. The roughly plastered boarding kept most of the wind outside but even so she was comforted by the warmth it cast across the room. Ambiance. A feeling of shelter against the darkness outside and a definite buffer against the night-time cold shared by a few regulars clumped haphazardly about, nursing their drinks. Something made with kodo bones and Zehvra dung that seared your throat and left a glowing line of fire traced to your belly. It was most welcome with the night time chill and she had a small glass set down beside her inkwell, but the food here left her with an ugly grimace. It was definitely crunchy and one could go so far as to call it tasty. But a delicate finger gingerly folding back the doughy outer layer convinced her it probably better left unidentified.

Orcs would eat anything, she thought and shuddered anew, wiping her fingers on a napkin and returned to the letter she was drafting. No matter how many time she penned it this letter just would not read well. She either ended up sounding sycophantic, delusional or insane and none of those added up to the picture she wanted to paint for Varranda. Varranda. Not a name to roll easily off the tongue but there was something about it. Slipped into conversation, a few silvers across their greasy palms and you could learn anything about anyone. Goblins. Always for sale to the highest bidder. So now she knew Varranda was a one of the noble Tauren, a son of Ticonder and followed the ancient druidic paths. How very apt for one who's own path through life seemed to echo the intertwining of Malfurion and Illidan. Perhaps the key to unlocking these dreams would come from him and his connection to the book. But page after page of worthless words has been crumpled and tossed over her shoulder as she tried to comprehend and reason her way through this.

"Par'dn, Missus, but you have sum mail" a leathery green face at her elbow said as the goblin offered her a letter. A few copper in the outstretched palm - nothing was ever free with Goblins - and he scuttled away again. The paper was thick and heavy which the script her name was written in echoed. There was no compromise here. The seal was a red glob of red wax imprinted with the simplest of sigils that indicated allegiance to the Horde. She frowned for a moment. A signet which could be brought on any market day for a few coppers did not match the hand, but even so she sliced it open with a long fingernail and unfolded the letter. It was a brief note jotted in the same bold hand.

"Perhaps I could.... It seems my effort at concealing my work has been in vain. If you are intrigued, I suggest a meeting tonight. Come to Saltheril's Haven.

I will be meeting with my soldiers to discuss an important development. If you are interested in what we are up to I may let you in on the secrets of our guild.

Varranda Ticonder
Shadow Chief

Resurrection of Shadow"

Tasharin slowly sat back, her lips pursed in thought. He said little but implied much, leaving her with a mental maelstrom of conflicting thoughts. Soldiers. This implied war. Chief. And somehow a tribal leadership for a guild associated with shadow. Were they delving into realms that the Horde was all but shunning? And this - she leaned forward, holding the letter up to candlelight. Satheril's Haven. He expected her to return to Silvermoon. How did he know? Even were it impossible to meet with Master Thalarian was she willing to risk that? What was death to a Master of the shadow arts? Involuntarily she began fondling the small crystals she kept in her belt pouch. The soft almost liquid warmth of them - the essence of the souls captured within them - soothed her. They always had. One in particular she twined her fingers around enjoying the sensation of life's chaos that flowed from it as an almost evil smile crept onto her face.

Yes.

She would go. The answers she needed would be found in Satheril's Haven. The dreams would not let her do otherwise.

[Stigg]

As much as I don't want to interrupt the lines of this story....I need to.

For any fan fiction writers out there....THIS THREAD is something you should strive to do.

Well written, well organized, spell checked, and a great story basis. There are two FF threads that I have actually enjoyed reading. This one and Blizzard's day off. (http://forums.worldofwar.net/showthread.php?t=368383)

As usual, excellent work Tanitha. absolutely amazing!

[Tanitha]

Thank you Stigg, but you should read Loveless then. That's some mad fan fiction and I keep on watching and waiting for the Friday updates on that one :grin: There was another piece that told the story of a young Troll outcast. It was utter brilliance too, but the author seems to have stopped updating it.

Funny how once you post it you begin to notice the little mistakes you've made. For example:

"Something made with kodo bones and Z.."

would probably have been better as

"Something distilled from kodo bones and Z.."

and a few others. (I've left out words in some sentences :blush:)

[Stigg]

As English as your second language, I figure you are at least 50 times more knowledgeable than 90% of us Americans.

[fallonquinn]

Nice, very nice. Rich narrative. Looking forward to more.

Fal

[Foonyak]

Good stuff so far, Tanitha.
:thumbsup:

[Inquisitor7]

I'm glad that you decided to post this here. Your writing style and your story are both very interesting. Please keep it up!

[Tanitha]

I'm stuck. And so early, she sighs. The next section I'm working on is littered with conversation. When we were RPing it in-game the personalities of the characters shone through. Xhar was the gruff old Orc I expected him to be while Aveties was about as sweet as an unshaven Blood Elf boy could be. I'm struggling to get that through in words - even just in my mind.

Do you guys have any hints / tips for writing good characterisations and conversations?

[fallonquinn]

I've noticed that sometimes it's not so much what the character says but how they say, and the gestures or actions they do it through. Infelction in speech while written works well with italic followed by some concrete actions, sometimes simple movements that you can word to convey a character that's frail, apathetic, etc. Give it a spin.

Fal

[Tikki]

I second all these comments.
this is brilliant.
you have a wonderful way of writing.

*sigh*
I'm jealous of you talent!

[Stigg]

**cough**C'mon Tan! Put on that thinkers cap! **Cough**

[Tanitha]

I'm away next week Stigg, down in the Manawatu for a bit of work and a lot of R&R. So I'll be writing hopefully a few chapters down there. Don't worry, thinking cap is on :grin:

[Qwertius]

sorry to post off topic, but I couldn't find anything better for it and Tanitha's one is the reason i am looking for them anyway....

Where are the Blogs? seems to be offline for the last week. Are they gone?