A leatherbound diary marked R.Hanistole

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Re: A leatherbound diary marked R.Hanistole

by Reike » Fri Sep 28, 2018 1:06 pm

I arrive at the battlefield alongside the others who had been drafted. This time I got one goal and one goal only. To die. At least in the eyes of the others, on the way I’ve stored my backpack at a rabbits trail, now I can just hope that no-one’s going to find it. It holds that extra set of my armor, a new set of used old weapons, well enough to defend myself with, and not too new to bring any attention to them.
I stay around the others, making small talk, about what’s to happen, how we’re going to approach it, then I work my way to the officer. I want in on the scouting team, showing him my papers; an old weatherworn wrinkly man. I have worked with him in the past, shit.

I remember the last time, I worked under his command, and I spent a whole hour arguing with him, about the best route through a pass. He never forgave me when my appointed route was the safest in the end - just because his old bones couldn’t handle the climb. This time he seemed pleased to stove me away, in a faraway corner of the field, where he didn’t have to deal with my angered temper, as he said.
I submerge myself to the work, still with the lingering thought that this is the day that I die. My whole body jitters by the thought, I nearly got caught off guard by the orc’ish patrol there comes stomping by below me. Oddly enough they seemed to walk around more upright, that’s strange. Last time it looked as if they were carrying the weight of the whole world on their shoulders. They walked as if they had already won the battle. No one knows who’s going to win this battle, but on either side, it’s like everyone fights for a dying world – and they don’t see it.

The scent of the battle in the distance calms me – there’s something about the screams in the distance, the yells of orders at the battlefield. Some of the voices I recognize, others are new to me. Then the stench of blood and gore hit my nostrils and its with some sadness I have to admit, that this might just be the last time I’ll see a battlefield from this side again. Next time, well, there might not be a next time. The first report is sent back, how many paces away the first campsite is, how many people there’s using the tents, how many there’s doing the rounds, how many there’s guarding it during the night and how their watch rotation is. Just like old times, observing. My spot gives me enough time to work through the faces I’ve seen back at the base. There’s a few I could pick out of the flock, one in particular. She is roughly my height slightly more chubby but if her body burns, they can’t tell the difference.

A few more days passes, from my spot I noticed a familiar shadow. My thoughts circles in on how best to kill him. How easily it was to just get up behind him, soothe him with a few lovers words and then jam the dagger in. “Never love anyone so much, that you can’t kill them.” I hate Nomine for that sentence, but I’ve come to live by it. So far, it’s the two year rule, so far, it takes two years to get past that barrier of mine, and then they end up dead one way or another. A few, I didn’t need to do it to myself, natural causes helped me there. Though there’s something about him, I need him, and he needs me. So far, we’ve been working like a good team. Nearly two years, another half year and it’s been two years.

I can feel the anger starting to boil again, Nomine. Starlight. Chit. Everyone’s faces just fuels it, I can’t help but see the big tree burning and their faces melt within the fire. The hatred, has grown and started to gnaw at my bones. One day, they’ll see it, for now. I need to die – and for me to die, another need to die too. I heard back when we traveled here, she had no parents, that she went here to fight tooth to nail, to get her revenge. Even if that caused her to die – I guess that was when I subtly made the choice for her, that she wasn’t coming back. I know where she went, it’s just a matter of time and she will be granted her wish.

Re: A leatherbound diary marked R.Hanistole

by Reike » Sat Sep 01, 2018 11:24 am

The faces, the voices and everything in between, has become something I hate. Not just loathe, but deeply truly hate. I don’t trust myself around them, I don’t trust myself to not pull a dagger out and jam it down their backs, watching that sweet pink bubbles come out each time they try and gasp for air.

No matter how much I fight the urge, it’s there, it’s right there just below the surface, luring me in – begging me to do it. It’s time, its that time to vanish. Go away, leave everything behind. At least Chit’s still alive, she looks like she either should get a new bed or a new male.

The herbs helps a little to sate the urges when I’m around people. It’s easy enough, place it on the tongue, let it spill out that bitter taste, just enough to take away the already bitter taste I got in my mouth. Each time someone speaks, I want to shut them up, leave me alone. Let me be myself, let me be with my own thoughts.

It’s been two years now, with Beid, it’s that time again. Two years with Ibby, two years with Garrett, now, two years with Beid. It was two months with Jas, also two years with Jay. I need two years to myself, my thoughts. I need two years to just be and do me. The cursed two years, I hate them, with a passion.

Just.. Two more years.

Re: A leatherbound diary marked R.Hanistole

by Reike » Fri Jun 22, 2018 10:06 pm

A while ago, I felt something stir. I couldn’t put a finger on it – or I simply ignored it. Maybe it was the fact I’ve been focused too much on the training lately. The sweet training – always the promise of more – I will get it in the end. I even joked to Nomine about it, he didn’t even pay it a damn mind.

It wasn’t until I had gotten that damned letter, even worse, I showed up. Always willing to help old friends if they reach out – I should’ve just stayed away this time – but no, I heard them speak and bring the others up to speed on what’s changed. Tikal has changed, that’s for sure, and he looks almost like a fresh sproutling with the new hair.
Stoen hasn’t changed. The pandaren I couldn’t remember, and I’m sure that Nomine has lost some more hair and his wrinkles become more prominent.

Then they said it, she had gotten back into this world. I wonder who had to lose their life for her this time around. I hope for Tikal it isn’t Annie. Couldn’t they just have brought back someone else? That’s when I knew what had stirred it - that annoyance, that sensation of just wanting to make her disappear again. I’m sure I can find thousands of reasons to end her.

But also knowing and remembering how much of a pet she was to Nomine, and Bloodthorn. What’s the reason for him to bring her around this time? There’s always a reason.
Was nice to see Chit though, I’m still wondering if she’s sleeping with the serrated knife at night, but I take it, they didn’t give her my message – as I’ve not heard that she’s back on her feet. Maybe I should just cut the last bit of strings attached to them, I’ve no doubt that there’s several who wouldn’t mind.

I still remember how Stoen introduced me to someone – “Don’t mind her, she’s cursed with anger.” – I’ll curse you with my foot up your arse. The vision I saw the moments after hearing that, glorious. But I still doubt that a gnome contains that much gunk. Only time will tell, I’m sure.
---
The flute gave me a pretty amount of coins, I don’t know if they’ll melt it into something else, or if they’re going to stretch it out. I just know, I’ll be miles away when they start playing it. I’ll have to go back to that place, just have to make sure that there’s no other eyes around when I do.

Re: A leatherbound diary marked R.Hanistole

by Reike » Sun Mar 11, 2018 7:39 pm

I received a letter about Chit being wounded, and in the Swamps – I had told Nomine I’d want nothing to do with the abomination. When I arrive there, I find out they’ve shackled it to the wall. I bloody well hope they’ve placed wards around it strong enough, as well as keep any blood out of its way.

When I arrived, I heard the squid sit and have a cookie and tea conversation with it. What’d she expect? That it’d feel anything? Told them already what they live for, she can’t do anything to change it, no matter how much sweet-talk she does. She’d end up annoying it further and end her own life by its blade. I couldn’t care any less.

What I care about is Chit, Nomine said she was suicidal. He said that already at the Lighthouse. She took it all on her shoulders, already then I told him to watch over her, he failed. He failed making sure she was kept safe. When I entered the room, my veins froze. I’ve given enough battle-hardened men a serrated knife for them to end their own life, then return to clean up the mess from their guts and their stinky blood. In my mind she’d do the same, after what Nomine told outside. Why the bloody fuck give her a knife then? “She needs to feel secure.” Then bloody move her to another location! The goblins not far from there don’t ask questions, they know better than that! And if you pay them a little extra, then they for sure don’t.

I had to walk away, they made no sense, not one of them. Don’t talk to the abomination, you can’t help it, don’t give her a serrated knife, she’ll use it. I felt so strongly for just picking her up and walk away with her. Then I’d be the kidnapper. At least I could’ve kept her away.

Tikal tried to make me feel bad for walking away, even if Chit wanted me to stay. If I had stayed, I would’ve taken her. Couldn’t do that, isn’t allowed that. My blood boils with anger, I couldn’t stay there much longer, even when I saw Stoen up in the small encampment, I felt strongly for punting him. There’s still much anger left in me, towards him, I don’t trust him. I don’t trust anything he says, it’s only white noise. Even worse when he told someone that I was cursed not to like anyone – that’s one thing there’s so far from the truth. He’s just pushed too many of my buttons for liking him – he failed, a big time failure, along with all the small things. Too much hatred, and each time, I feel for harming him more, not a good thing to stick around those much longer than needed.

Someone once told me, I have a hard time to forgive. I rarely forgive, why should I? I won’t forgive them if she uses the serrated knife on herself.

Re: A leatherbound diary marked R.Hanistole

by Reike » Sun Feb 25, 2018 4:05 pm

I ran into Lucas a good week ago, always such a pleasure to meet him. Pleasure, definitely discussable, interesting might be a better word. In the past, he’s offered several kinds of ways to make my life better; something I still ponder is the ability to remove all the burn scars that Bloodthorn did when she decided to fart fire all over Starlight.

Tonight was no different, yet another offer, yet another promise to think about it. I have been in a few fights lately, and last one had the attacker fall in my back, ruining my rune. I needed him to fix it, as I could feel the whispers taking over my mind even further. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve gotten used to that alluring voice, constantly begging me to continue, trying their best to lure me in. The worst part is when it’s those well-known voices, the voices of those I once loved. West is there, all the time, doing what he can to lure me to continue down that path, I do it in my own pace, not the pace he wants me to. But with the ruined rune, it suddenly became in his pace. I hate to lose control like that.

“I need you to help me in return Reike.” Lucas said with his usual smiling face, as if it’s the natural thing in the world.
“I need you to remove this..” Then he tapped to his sternum, I knew what he meant and my expression turned to surprise. Even more so when he told me it had to be done with him being awake. If I want my rune fixed, I just have to agree. It didn’t take me long, the voices in my head cursing me for what I agreed to. Myself, I still want back in control.

A few hours later, the ink has been linked back through the rune, the magic had been activated. The sensation of the serrated glass had gone, he told me he’d summon me when things was settled, within a week. I just didn’t know that it’d take him less than a day. I had to find one of the mages who was willing to swap a portal for a debt in the future. The quality of that portal wasn’t the best, he told me he was aiming for the Caverns in Tanaris, it was far from it. As I stepped through, I felt a harsh push at my back, sand suddenly blurred my vision and I scooted over the warm sand, which in return filled my mouth, snotter and my ear and eyes. My head collided with the back of Lucas’s houseboat. At least, as Lucas said, the portal wasn’t that bad afterall. It was, if I was meant to land in the Caverns.
I could use a stiff bourbon right now, but, “I will prefer that your hands are steady and your mind is clear, Reike. You are afterall, going to open up my chest.” He looked fine, standing there in his dark robes, the tanned skin, though there’s something different. An unsettling unease that I can’t shake off. But then again, who wouldn’t be, if they’re about to open someone up like that. I could just .. Reach in there and grasp at his heart, if he has any. Now at least, I get to see if there’s anything in there.

I still step inside with some hesitation, I still remember how I got knocked down the last time I was here with Starlight, how the whack was delivered by Silas, yelling at me for wanting to save Nomine. The times after, when I’ve visited, I still feel the whack, I still have to poke my head inside before entering fully.
The heat both around Lucas, but also the rest of the area, starts to annoy me more than the lack of bourbon – I understand that some likes the heat, but late night and still the interior is heated. It looks just like last time, though with the difference, the whole place is scorched black, the pillows, more blue than red ones. Why do I even notice such annoying details. Deep down I know why, I’m paid to notice the smallest insignificant details normally. I’m damaged by work, like that.

Before I know of it, I’m sitting there with my hands cutting him open, carrying on a casual conversation with him, as if this was the most normal thing in the world. I had to keep my head clear, the day before he said I should wait with activating the rune, then it hits me. “What if it doesn’t work and this is just a distraction to finish me off?” – naah he’s smarter than that.

What I’ve always thought was a small pebble underneath his skin, turns out to me metal, often have I wondered how it’ll feel in my hands if I wrap my fingers around it, now it won’t be long until I get my curiosity sated. The stench from the warm blood, along with the late night air in Tanaris fills my nostrils, even the shield he had risen around the houseboat I can smell.

As I get closer to the metal, the more the skin is peeled back, the more he moans and writhers underneath me, eyes shoot up to meet his, he looks to be in his own world – the bone exposing the metal, at first it looked as if it had been embedded there, but when I lean down to look closer, it looks as if the metal is biting into his bone, it wasn’t going to let go just like that. My fingers wrapping around it, that’s when it hit me. All the voices from the past, Bloodthorn, Darkmoore, Drathon, Silas.. Everyone, giving me an instant headache. Did he just laugh at me? That he did, the voices, I wonder what they’d say if I let the knife slip, just a little to the left, down into the cavity below. I can see, and hear the beat. Though I can’t make out if it’s from the stone, the magic around it or if it’s his heart – it takes me another hour or so to get that metal removed, that magic around it, so damn powerful – I’m going to keep that metal. I’ll keep it all to myself, and best of all, he didn’t have any objections to it. I feel the draw to it.

My attention shifts between him and the metal, all the time, if he’s going to die, it won’t be laying under me with his chest fully opened up like that. I’ll make sure of it. His skin is burning, to the point that it feels as if I’m sitting above a campfire, roasting myself. His behavior telling me that there’s more to the man that I first expected, his endurance, and so much more – I can’t help but to chuckle somewhat, I’ll keep that in mind for next time I get to talk to him.
I learnt something new, and now I got something new. Now, there’s only the tending to, to be done. Told him I got a good week to tend to his wound, and I’ll keep my word. The bandages – if he doesn’t fry them, will have to be on there for as long as I’m here, changed every third hour, I’m sure he’s going to love it when I smear the antiseptic over it. Why isn’t this surprising? It’s not the first time I’ve tended to him like this, the last time he came begging me, and I tended to him for a whole month. I’m not complaining, at least he’s a good patient. For now.

Re: A leatherbound diary marked R.Hanistole

by Reike » Sun Jan 14, 2018 4:02 pm

If I wasn’t this faithful to those I usually work with. Then I would’ve asked that idiot of a noble to hire me on the spot. Those guards, no matter how I’ve tried to convince them, no matter how much gold they’ve been offered, they stay true to him. What is it that he offers them in return?

Clearly it’s got to be something other than just coins, could it be ancient knowledge of the forbidden magic? All of those there were professional. No one walked the same path twice, always a new route, always a new partner yet still they seemed to know one another well enough for them to be able tell what the other will do in any given situation. I didn’t linger for too long, but not too shortly either.

The thing is, if you stay too shortly, they’d know something is up, also if you stay too long – it’s a balance, know when it’s about time to piss off. It’s about the time just when they’re about to lift their arm up to pull out one of those pocketwatches. Even those seemed to be bloody expensive when one finally pulled it out. I asked for the nearest inn, gave them a fake name even in the ledger. I saw one of them snooping around the inn later, looking in my belongings, in the ledger as well as trying to get in my pants even later. I wonder if I should give his armor to Nomine or keep it for myself? Because I for one can’t fit that man’s armor. Too tight around the chest, I already tested this.

I did get close enough to hear the voice of the one caught, and I’d be pretty damn dumb if that’s not the redhead from Stormwind. The one that Aylian was flirting with at some point. The one they all yelled at me for telling to put on some more clothes or she’d end up in the wrong kind of attention from the males. I guess, that’s what happened this time, huh?

The area, he’s in for a surprise that’s for sure. He can’t just send the usual ones in, they’re damn professional, they’d end up being overrun, beaten and in worst case, they’d end up loosing a fair few of Starlighters if they don’t shape up. You can’t outsmart these with the street-fighting type they use in Stormwind, or what they’ve shown so far. They need proper training, that’s for sure.

No matter how nice Nomine can be, he’d have to grow a pair for this, or pick people out who he’d want as cannon fodder, but yeah, they might as well have ordered their coffins and paid for their graves.
I’ll have to move on, got other and more pressing things to sort out before shit hits the fan. Too many plans in the brew, too little time to brew it properly.

Re: A leatherbound diary marked R.Hanistole

by Reike » Thu Jan 11, 2018 6:11 am

The sounds of battle always starts in the distance, it’s like observing the night sky when the thunder rolls in, every little flicker of lightning reflects up against the sky. This is just the sound, it starts with the deep rumble, then when you get closer, it goes into the deep sound of clashing weapons, metal against metal. When I get even closer, it’s the battle-roars.

The only way to compare it to something, is when the men is taking part in a yelling contest to find out who’s cock is the biggest, figuratively speaking. It hides my advances, it hides the fact I’m making my way across it all. The way I move from one place to another, yet there’s this person who’s attention I caught in the distance. No matter how much I slip into the shadows, I feel their eyes on me, their taunting laughter and how he continues on mocking me. I manage to get away from there without a bruise, seems like that one was one of ours. At least not physically bruised, but damn my pride took a nook or two. I hope that the noble ass hasn’t hired any of those on his own.

I managed to settle up, somewhere close. I know this house, I just hope it’s owner don’t come back any time soon, I can still feel the residue in the air – how I managed to fuck it all up the last time I was here.
Running over the plans, again and again, everything needs to be in order, tomorrow I have to be there before the first shift, I need to see if they can keep up with a normal schedule, or if he has found his own, just to confuse those who comes to keep an eye out. So much to prepare, and yet still, I got to keep my tracks covered.

Re: A leatherbound diary marked R.Hanistole

by Reike » Sun Dec 31, 2017 10:46 am

It's nearing in on that day again, I still don't understand why they insist on firring off the fireworks. I've never liked it, but I've been able to force myself to stay in it, accept it. But lately, it's become more and more troublesome.

It mostly goes like this:
Male asks female to marry - lets fire off fireworks.
Female gives birth to a babby - lets fire off fireworks.
Kid takes their first step - lets fire off firewors.
Poetry ending - let's fire off fireworks.
Gnome comes out the tram - let's fire off fireworks.
The list continues with idiotic small incidents, every time like the Amen at the Cathedral at the end of each service.

The sounds takes me straight back to the battlefield, my senses hightens, I see ghosts everywhere. Enimies hiding in the shadows, voices crying out for help, hands grasping at my ankles. I can't ignore it, like people tells me to do, I can't just shake it off, Smithy did ask what I was going to do on that night, told him that I'd do as I usually do, find a place out of sight and ear. He had another idea of how to overcome it, I highly doubt that'll work. Heck even the flashes from it, I can't help but to wonder if others got it the same way, he says he has. But how about all the others? How do those who's lived for thousands of years cope? Or even just a few hundred years?

On the other hand, I have to keep myself busy, been looking into the plagued female, and the only one to help me with that, he's been missing for quite a while, I've got to go to the old hunting grounds to find him. It will require some help at least, I know only a few capable of helping, but at least two of those needs a little training in how to spot all the small details. I should be planning that, but it's bloody hard when the fireworks goes off every five minutes. So far Smithy has a contact who's capable of helping me with updatet maps, I will need those, at least a look, maybe comparing it with my own.

All work and planning - at least, that can keep me grounded for now.

Tikal still manages to question me, make me question myself, I hate to admit he's right at least at this case. I hate it.

Re: A leatherbound diary marked R.Hanistole

by Reike » Thu Dec 28, 2017 1:00 pm

Who in their right mind send me a pet to tend to? Tikal, I wonder if there’s a meaning to this, I will have to seek him out, and yet again be scolded for my belief in my choice. Just because I stick to my word and promises. I cannot see this being my fault. One to blame, is Stoen.

I was close to confront him on the bridge when I met him with Nomine and Devy. But then again, not going to do that when there’s no one there, who knows what lies he’d spin up. I don’t trust him, I can’t, won’t and never will. But the other day, I finally understood why Nomine keeps him as an officer. Something someone said about endowment.

The new elf I met, he’s a straight up pain in the arse – sure he’s old, sure he’s lived longer than me, but who is he to try and teach me about love? Told him though, he shouldn’t go crossbreed and that he should go find one of his own kind. Crossbreeding leaves behind offspring who can’t reproduce, someone who can’t offer to the warmaschine, then why do it? Well I do know why, but I can’t see the deeper meaning in bringing in offspring if they cannot carry the family-name onwards. Just as I can’t see the reason as to why I was brought into this world. The elf told me to adopt a child. Why would I go adopt someone else’s offspring? They already have bad habits, it takes time to remove those and build my own upon them. Too much time, in where I have to invest and still not be sure of the outcome. It was so much easier when Ironshield was alive, just following his orders, just as I was following Vesp’s orders.

On another note, Smithy has gotten a call to arms, I need to find out if the Chef has gotten one too. If that’s so, I’ll need to get a sack of beans before he leaves, or just hope that someone misplaces a sack somewhere and I accidently fall over it. Or I’ll have to eat my pride and go back to the damned elf and his coffee. Why do I get myself into this mess?

Also need to seek out Syra, I’m not that sure I understand her gift.

Re: A leatherbound diary marked R.Hanistole

by Reike » Fri Dec 01, 2017 3:26 pm

What do one do when the trove of trust has gone empty?

For a long time, I’ve been contemplating on whether or not to return to Starlight, it’s been swaying back and forth, yes and no. No and yes. Is there simply more for me to return to? When the trust is gone.
When I look back from the beginning to the end, it’s changed. Changed just like myself.

We all change, our degree of understanding each other changes. Everyone rubs each other the wrong way, at times you can look past it. But when it forces me to put the stone away each time I hear the grinding voices, each time I speak up and I get bile back. Then there’s nothing for me to return to.
When everything turns into a campfire discussion club, where everything is being discussed endlessly when there should be one who says, “Shut up, we’re doing it this way, don’t like it, take a hike.” But that’s not Starlight’s ways. They could surely need it at times.

If I look at the ones I socialize with, there’s one, maybe two. Perhaps three. Could I have tried more? Maybe, but that’s not how I am. If they can’t accept the whole of me, then, I am the one who’s taking a hike. I’ve disappointed plenty, and there’s more to come. I could make a long list, so long that I’d have enough list to wipe my arse in, for a whole year, of people I’ve disappointed and things I’ve done which then again has led to disappointment. I’m tired of having to apologize; I’m tired of having to get one rock thrown at me after another. Having to apologize for things there’s petty, there doesn’t need to be followed by an apology.

Trust means a lot to me, if I can’t trust a person, I can’t and won’t defend that person. If we find ourselves in a situation which requires of us, to watch out for one another, then the one I have distrust in, will get shoved off a ledge and I’ll make sure they don’t live to tell that I shoved them. It wasn’t like that back in the day, then I simply nodded, smiled and trusted. I’ve been scorn too many times for that to continue to happen.

Too many promises, too many “I’ll look into that, soon.” Has been left in the air for too long. That is a big bother, people forgetting small things, big things. What happens if they forget something important at the battlefield? Then the whole team dies. I’m not saying that’s to happen with Starlight, but forgetfulness, that’s a major issue - promises which has been broken is another. Too many promises made to me, has become shattered into shards which can’t be put together. Leaving the trust to fade away.

It starts and ends with trust, seems like trust is a big thing for me. Maybe that’s why I don’t do well in social aspects, it takes time for me to be able to let people in on the real me, on the face behind the masque that I wear.

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