Koltira Deathweaver (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
deadelfwalking) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
soulforge2012-09-08 02:58 am
deadelfwalking) wrote in soulforge2012-09-08 02:58 am
silvermoon city; directly following the fall of the lich king
[Koltira hasn't been to his birthplace in years. Even though he identifies as a blood elf, he died with blue eyes, not green. The alienation is therefore twofold, because his people are very different now than when he last left them, and he has been completely transformed, as well. He's not sure what place, if any, he has among the sin'dorei anymore; not sure if they would even tolerate someone--something--like him walking the streets.
Other death knights have told him stories of their efforts to walk in their home cities, of the rotten fruit and spit thrown at them, the threats of hanging. Frightened screams, hateful curses, all of these seemed likely to expect. Some time has passed since the Lich King's fall and the introduction of death knights into the Horde and Alliance ranks, but this doesn't soothe Koltira in the least. In fact, he thinks it makes distrust even more likely: Arthas is gone. What reason do the living have now to tolerate these particular undead?
Even so, he feels a need to visit the city, at least once, now that his task is done. Perhaps it will help him sort out what to do next. Perhaps someone in the city will get the rope, and decide for him. He's not sure he would mind that, either.
He rides up the avenue to the city's gates apprehensively, fully armored, Byfrost secured to his back. He jumps off of Bloodmist, and the horse whinnies in an unearthly wail. Setting a hand on the deathcharger's muzzle, he stares back at Silvermoon's entrance, steeling himself. Now, if ever, was the time to go forward.]
Other death knights have told him stories of their efforts to walk in their home cities, of the rotten fruit and spit thrown at them, the threats of hanging. Frightened screams, hateful curses, all of these seemed likely to expect. Some time has passed since the Lich King's fall and the introduction of death knights into the Horde and Alliance ranks, but this doesn't soothe Koltira in the least. In fact, he thinks it makes distrust even more likely: Arthas is gone. What reason do the living have now to tolerate these particular undead?
Even so, he feels a need to visit the city, at least once, now that his task is done. Perhaps it will help him sort out what to do next. Perhaps someone in the city will get the rope, and decide for him. He's not sure he would mind that, either.
He rides up the avenue to the city's gates apprehensively, fully armored, Byfrost secured to his back. He jumps off of Bloodmist, and the horse whinnies in an unearthly wail. Setting a hand on the deathcharger's muzzle, he stares back at Silvermoon's entrance, steeling himself. Now, if ever, was the time to go forward.]