Friday, June 29, 2012

The Unnamed Elder

In Orgrimmar today I met a very old, very gruff orc. His movements were stiff and his skin was stretched thin over his face and body from what I could see. He did not seem to like me much at first. Then we got to talking. He referenced his scars... especially the one over his eye. He told me it was from when the Scourge invaded Kalimdor briefly. I was not awake for this, so he told me a very grim tale of how he obtained the scar. It still looked infected, so I volunteered to mend it. I knew it wouldn't take the scar away, but I thought maybe it would at the least cleanse the infection.

He refused. I told him that I would call upon the Light to try and heal him, and he said that he didn't know of this "Light spirit" and did not wish to be mended. Said it would be a dishonor to his traditions. All I could do for the remaining minutes I spent in his company was stare at that festering scar, knowing that it came from a servant of a man whom I once called Prince...

One that I would have been proud to call King, before everything happened.

I had to dismiss myself. I wanted to rise up, cast that foulness out of his wound and be done with it. No doubt it would have caused me great pain, not just from calling upon the Light, but from an angry orc that suddenly felt dishonored. I hope time softens his heart to the idea. I mean, I only wanted to try.

No comments:

Post a Comment