---------- (( OOC )) ----------
Selvarria's RPer and I were talking about wanting to RP more, since all of the Horde-side group's timezones are so scattered (and due to IC separation & conflict it's currently impossible for us to meet) - so I came up with the idea to sort of do a little RPing on the forums as well as in-game, when our schedules allow it! And since a lot of the OOC discussion in the group has been focused on the past and how the fall of Quel'Thalas changed so many aspects of their lives, I thought, "Hey, why not play more with this instead of just talking about it!" So, here we go:
This RP takes place shortly after the Scourge invaded Silvermoon - so you can only take part if your character was present in the aftermath. It's otherwise open to everyone - even people on different servers, or people who we've never RPed with before! Heck, even play a character that doesn't actually exist on your in-game roster, if you want. If you can justify your character being present, you are more than welcome to hop in and interact. The only requirement here is that you have fun doing whatever you do.
I know non-linear storytelling can be kind of awkward in RP, but listen. Don't worry about it, dude. If things need to be retconned, we have the power. Never be afraid to reach out OOC and say, "This isn't the direction I wanted this to go, let's take a couple steps back." And if there's a specific plan you have in mind, share it! There's no shame in a little scripting for something like this. Other than that, let's try and keep OOC chit-chat on the down-low in this thread. Don't want things getting too cluttered, now, do we?
(Also, don't worry about matching my reply length. I sometimes get a little wordier than I need to be.)
----------------------------------------
----------------------------------------
The camp was alive with the sounds of the living, all chittering and chattering and filling Lys's head with words until it almost hurt. But it was a welcome reprieve to the numbing silence that had fallen over the desolation behind the city walls. She could still see the spires of Silvermoon in the distance. She never wanted to see them again. It was too unnerving, to be so close to a place of such horror and death. 'Seeing Silvermoon now makes me home-sick,' she thought idly to herself. 'In that I'm sick of seeing home.'
Pain. Pain brought her attention back to where she was, instead of where she used to be. Even in spite of her burns and bandages, that horrible gash in her side still refused to stop bleeding. The Farstriders who rescued her had brought her to the medical tents, where healers worked tirelessly to mend the wounds of injured rangers... Or simply ease their passing, as Lysarra grimly realized. Still, the idea that anyone could heal anyone was rather amazing to her. The Light didn't aid those who didn't hold faith in it. What sort of elf could hold on to their faith, with Quel'Thalas so broken and bloody?
She supposed she was about to find out. As soon as someone noticed she wasn't just here to take a nap, and actually needed some help.