Verisimi & Alts!

The third page has been torn out of the journal's binding. The page has had, apparently, a rough existence--it is extensively crumpled, and even looks as if it has been singed on a bottom corner. Though it will no longer lay perfectly flat, it has been smoothed and is now carefully folded in half and tucked behind the last page of the little book.



February 24

Ironforge



There are so many things to worry about. The Scourge. The Burning Legion. The Silithid, and the war efforts against them. Dragons that have gone insane. The world is in a sorry state, and all I can think about are my own personal little troubles. And, in the grand scheme of things, they *are* so small. But they have grabbed hold of me. I am preoccupied. I feel very selfish.

I have a good life. I have good health. I have fulfilling work. If there were things I was missing in my life, I didn’t notice. Life was moving forward—quickly!—and I was discovering new places and faces everywhere I went. There is still so much to learn. I never planned on this ... distraction.

Said distraction began when Knight Pugnose started saying strange things around me—half veiled innuendos and sidelong glances. Was I just being self-centered, thinking he really meant me even if he didn’t say it out right? I tried not to let it bother me-—and I tried to pretend it didn’t matter if he *was* talking about me-—and went about my life. I tried not to be self-centered. The Knight just lost his Lady, I reminded myself, he was bound to be lonely and reaching out. Surely it was just the romance of the almost-stranger--just the building up of an ideal that did not exist in truth. He would stop soon enough. We'd be friends. I wouldn't lead him on, and I would try not to encourage him. He would stop soon. Surely. We'd be friends.

But I kept going back to the Golden Leaf. I found myself gravitating to Stormwind almost every evening, when in the past I would have made for home and security in Ironforge.

He wasn’t always there, but often enough he was. Maybe I just like the attention he gives me. No man has ever given me so much. I felt like I was shining when he *was* there. I know he thinks he means what he says, but I still have trouble believing it. And I cannot quite decide what I want him to do. I am sure I am confusing him to no end. Likely, he’ll want to be done with me before too long. Especially if I keep up as I have been. I don’t want to lead him on, but I also don’t want to give up his company. But I don’t know if I can say the words he’s said to me. Not yet. ... Ever?

I don’t know what I am feeling, but I do know I’m getting dizzy trying to figure it out.

My world has gotten so much larger in the last few months. I think… I think I feel like being small. For awhile at least. I wonder if he can be small, too? Can his spirit quiet and just *be* next to me? I hope so. The intensity is exhausting.

Light guide me.

Goodnight journal.

Veri

Post script: I never imagined *this* entry, when I decided to keep a journal. HOW did I suddenly turn into the milksop of a young *girl* I never was at that age? But I do feel better, writing this out. I meant to burn this entry. But I couldn't do it. Light help me if anyone ever sees it.









((I did NOT write the following comments:))

Submitted by Lorith
((Very nice, Veri. I'm just enjoying this spotlight on Dwarvish inter-personal relationships SO much, from both you and Pugnose - the humility, sense of responsibility, and depth of feeling that stands out so richly against the "Drunken Dwarf" stereotypes.))


Submitted by Pugnose on Fri, 2006/02/24 - 7:02pm.
((That last conversation *was* intense. I wasn't expecting it at all. It was fun though, and you kept tripping me up with your questions making me have to go deep into Pug's mind and moral character. I went from having Pug be the "drunken dwarf" stereotype forty levels ago into creating a character that I love dearly and have trouble giving up even for a little while to level any one of my alts.

Pug *can* be quiet and just enjoy the presence of his company, especially one that he cares for. He's made offers to help Veri, and to discuss matters of the world. Let's see what happens. Another "heroic deeds" blog would be nice to write. We'll bring Noggin along to give Pug suspicious looks. :-)

Oh, and Lorith, stop by the Leaf sometime. Your comments and interest is appreciated. ))


Submitted by Lorith on Sat, 2006/02/25 - 5:33am.
((Thanks for the invitation, Pug. It's definitly on Lorith's things-to-do list once she gets her business finished in the swamp.))

Scrawled in hasty looking Dwarvish print, on the last page of the journal:
He took my hand.

I ran off. I tried to do my prayers, but I almost fell in the canals when someone asked if I was alright.

Talk about a head full of wool!

Daft daft daft!


((Comments started here, I did NOT write the following:))





»
*Submitted by Pugnose on Wed, 2006/02/22 - 7:12pm.
((That made me chuckle.

Not the running off. I mean what you wrote. Very cute.))


Pug watched Veri run away
Submitted by Pugnose on Thu, 2006/02/23 - 2:22am.
Pug watched Veri run away with only a hurried goodbye. He mentally kicked himself for being so impulsive. That wasn't like him. Tatjana had bathed Pug and Veri in some kind of elvish moonglow as they were standing together. She was so...beautiful in that light. Pug took Veri's hand into his own. She was soft.

Verisimi seemed to panic and gave Pug a wild-eyed look. She moved away from Pug and their hands separated.

"Er... Well... I should be goin'... Still have my devotional to do."

She ran away. The moonglow disappeared.

Pug was stunned and just stood there for a moment.

Tatjana looked over to Pug, "I guess she didn't wanta a hug from me before she left."

Pug shook his head, "I guess not."

Tatjana stayed with Pug for a long moment before breaking his reverie. "...She feels nice."

Shaking the thoughts out his head, he turned to Taty, "Hmmm...I'm sorry. I was thinkin'. Who feels nice?"

"Miss Veri. She feels nice. Sort of like clouds around your mountain but that's not right because clouds would cover the sunniness and she doesn't cover the sunniness."

"A rainbow then. I...think she feels nice, too."

Pug looked wistfully in the direction that Veri had run. "Taty? No secrets wit' us, right? Can I tell ye somethin' I ain' tol' nobody?"

Taty said yes, so Pug went on, "I met Veri when I was still wit' Preinn...I stayed true ta Preinn...ye know I would...But..."

He swallowed hard. Even with Preinn, he never expressed himself this way to anybody. He was good at having people share their thoughts with him, be he himself was a closed box emotionally. To open the box was to allow pain to come in. But he soldiered on.

"I am very much in love wit' Verisimi."

Pug looked over at Taty, "That's me secret, lass. I ain' told that ta nobody."

They stood together a little more, looking out over the moonwell. Finally Pug said his goodbyes. He felt that he may have destroyed any chance, however slim, with Veri by being so impetuous. The walk home was very long and slow.




*Submitted by Borel on Thu, 2006/02/23 - 3:03am.

((Master Pugnose, just remember: a warrior never surrenders... except to the One. May she accept your surrender soon! :) ))

Why don't we wander and follow la vie dansante...


*Submitted by Falcomith on Thu, 2006/02/23 - 3:29am.
((You guys are something else. Keep up the good work.))


*Submitted by Fiyonna on Thu, 2006/02/23 - 4:57am.
Veri, I love you!!! (and Pug, but he knows that already)

"But me, I'm just the covers on top of your bed. I'll keep you warm, I won't ask you where you've been."



*Submitted by Noctifer on Thu, 2006/02/23 - 7:49am.
(( Gods, I *heart* a good love story! Keep it up guys! ))

Noctifer Eva,
Grand Master of
the Watchful Order of the Shrouded Dawn

    Verisimi gave a soft sigh as she settled her pack onto her small bed. The entire room was small--Cathedral clerks and researchers were not usually ones to desire large rooms, there was too much work to be done to bother with any luxury. Besides, the rooms were assigned by the Temple, and space was a commodity in the ever growing community of Ironforge. The room was so small there was barely walking room between the bed, tiny table with a lamp and chair, and the trunk for clothes and personal items. Finishing off the furnishings was a sturdy plaque with a row of well-worn wooden pegs hung on the wall. On three of the four pegs small bundles of drying flowers were tied--two bunches of wildflowers and a single rose--and the last peg held her cloak and money pouch.

    The constant, pulsing din of Ironforge, somewhat muffled by the stone of the mountain walls between her room and Forge, was soothing to her somewhat sharp nerves. The young dwarf sat next to her pack and pulled off her boots and thick stockings--promptly wiggling her toes with another sigh. They had been in the boots longer than they were used to, and it felt good to work them loose. Reaching into her pack she pulled out her newly begun journal and leaned over to place it on the table. Rummaging deeper in the pack, she pulled out her biggest prize of the evening.

    Discs. The discs from Uldaman were heavy, and they made her heart a little heavy as well. She set them on the table with a sigh. For long moments she just stared at them. There was always so much to learn. And not all of it particularly pleasant.
She was tired, but didn’t think she’d be able to sleep right away. Her mind kept circling to the events of the night. She blushed lightly as she realized it was not just on her academic experiences that she was dwelling on. Her gaze slid up to the flowers on the pegs, and she felt her cheeks flush hotter. Absently, she touched her face.
She stood up from the bed and moved the few steps to sit in the wooden chair. She took up her quill and dipped it in the ink. After nearly every sentence she would pause, and now and again her gaze would flicker up to the pegs.
Second Entry: After Uldaman

18th of February
Ironforge


We went to Uldaman this evening.


I almost want to stop this entry right here. It almost says enough. Almost.


But I do not want to forget my friends’ help. I could not have made it very far without them. There were several of my Istari friends helping me as well—Firnoggin, Durnham and Marcsman, along with their animal friends. And Knight Pugnose came as well.


Firnoggin and Pugnose had been there before. For the rest of us, it was an eye opening experience.


And I cannot say I am not a little sad, thinking back on things. There were so many hostile to us, without provocation. I don’t want to dwell on it, but even though the troggs and Dark Irons would have killed us without pause or even thought, I cannot say the same for myself of them. I would have preferred if there had been a way to negotiate temporary peace with the Dark Irons, just long enough to do my research. But there wasn’t. We approached them, and they fired on us. Knight Pugnose fought valiantly to protect us. And Firnoggin brought his usual arcane arsenal to our aid. Durnham, Marcsman, and I would quickly have had to retreat if not for them.


And what we learned! Troggs. It is an odd thought. I had heard rumors of Earthen before, but had never any personal experience with their lore. It looks like my primary research subject is tied closely to them though. It seems my explorations of Azeroth have only just begun.


It is with some embarrassment that I admit I fainted near the end. So much was happening, I was overwhelmed and I was trying so hard to help. And then there was stone fist coming towards me and... I fainted. Or was knocked out. It could have been either way. Which ever it was, I recovered with a red face and bruised a bit, but my friends did not hold it against me. I am only glad I was the only one.


Pugnose was magnificent though. He is one of the bravest people I have ever met. I certainly felt well protected with him there. Even when Firnoggin turned himself into a sheep, Knight Pugnose kept us together and from panicking. He was so careful of me, personally, as well. The few times when enemies rushed me, he was there, pulling them off of me until I had collected myself again. I suppose all knights are valiant, but he is the only one I know, so he will probably always be the measure I hold others against. I doubt many will live up to his measure.


But I am tired. I think it is time for this dwarf to find her bed. Goodnight journal.


Veri




» Comments started here, I DID NOT WRITE THESE:
It took a reread to catch
Submitted by Pugnose on Sun, 2006/02/19 - 8:49am.

It took a reread to catch the flower references. You remembered!


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Verisimi's picture
Of course!
Submitted by Verisimi on Mon, 2006/02/20 - 12:04pm.
Of course!
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Fiyonna's picture
((Fantastic read! I'm very
Submitted by Fiyonna on Tue, 2006/02/21 - 7:54am.

((Fantastic read! I'm very excited to read more!))

"But me, I'm just the covers on top of your bed. I'll keep you warm, I won't ask you where you've been."
» reply | write to author

Fifteenth of Second Moon

Sunny, Loch Modan



It’s a funny thing to say as the first line of a journal, but here it is: I've never kept a journal before, or ever really wanted to keep a journal. It's true that I have various notes scribbled in my prayer book margins. Phrases I've liked, thoughts I want to remember, quick jots about things that inspire me, notations about which research references to look into, things of this nature. Never more than that. And never in much of an order. (I even feel a bit like I’m cheating on my prayer book, filling this new, blank journal page!)



There really was no reason to keep something like a journal. I've read several journals in my years of research; people with adventures often keep journals, or people with great philosophical thoughts bouncing about in their skulls. It seems most journals of note are written by important people who had done important things. Or at least exciting things. Life at the Temples can be very rewarding, at least for a minor researcher in the archives, but not particularly notable. What would I write? “Today I re-copied and indexed three chapters of a text on the ecology of the scorpids.”



Even I was not interested in reading about my life.



But ever since my promotion to junior researcher, and the following exploration of Azeroth, the idea of keeping a journal keeps resurfacing. I have been carrying around this little blank-paged book for several weeks now... And that was enough, for awhile. I didn't need to write in it, I just needed to have it to be able to record things when and if I wanted.



The last few days I’ve picked up my pen no less than ten times. I have been thinking on what I want to say, and why my life has changed—why I am suddenly afraid I may forget a day’s events.



Soon, I will go to Uldaman. There are so many things I want to do there. What I have heard from other researchers and explorers is fascinating, and I cannot wait to go there. At first I thought this was all because I wanted to record my research thoughts and capture the details of my own experience in Uldaman and beyond.



But, honestly (Heh! I’m professing my honesty to myself. This is a bit odd.), it is the people I have met on my journeys. I do not want to forget them. I know I do not have the best of memories for names or faces. I know most of them will not remember me long, but that is not important.



Fifteen years (and later!) from now, I want to remember the friends I have made. Those who have helped me and guided me. Those who support me, and those who simply talk to me. I do not think I could forget many of them… but just in case, I imagine I will begin to catalog my life and thoughts. Some have been with me years, others only a few days! But starting now, I want to make sure I can remember.



Never having done this, I bet I’ll fumble a bit here at the beginning. Right now, I’m unsure if I should just start retrospectively writing, or if I should just move on from today. I guess I’ll just do what feels right.



Ack! I think my Loch Frenzy is burning! Goodnight, journal.



Veri



((I have no idea what the months are called, please correct me if you know!))