Mixed roleplay

Afterlife

Faquarl's death leaves the Grin grieving and divided as Felora and Ashenrock carry him to Maraudon for a druid's burial. Beyond death, Faquarl learns that the demonic force once bound to him has escaped into the Emerald Dream.

Posted
Apr 7, 2008 – May 27, 2008
Contributors
Felora, Unknown
Length
6 posts · 3,010 words · 14 min
Status
Incomplete
Content notes Editorially reviewed
  • Violence And Death
Unknown

<IT IS TIME FOR THE GRIN TO SERVE THE SHATTERED SUN OFFENSIVE. ENTER THE PORTAL, IT WILL BRING YOU TO SHADOWMOON. YOU ARE TO FACE ILLIDAN THERE. COME QUICKLY TO AVOID MORE SENSELESS VIOLENCE.>

Faquarl turned awestruck at the luck. Salvation.

"Salvation lies in Shadowmoon."

Everything was falling in place. Gorfrunch ran through the portal and those happy to find an escape quickly followed. Faquarl turned to enter the portal as well but upon seeing other Grin still fighting, Faquarl swore.

"GET IN THE PORTAL NOW!"

"Leave them, we must go to Shadowmoon"

Faquarl couldn't heed the voices words.

"IN THE PORT-"

From nowhere an arrow pierced Faquarl's armor embedding itself in his chest.

"ARRRRGH GO NOW WRETCH"

Faquarl clenched his teeth through the immense pain. His guardian seemed to be turning against him and whatever poison was on the arrow burned his insides. He pulled the arrow out from his chest and searched for his assailant.

THWAP

Another arrow hit Faquarl right below his left arm and the Tauren toppled with the blow. The pain was enormous and breathing had become a monolithic task in itself.

"Pathetic slime. You let arrows stop you? I AM MAGTHERIDON! OBEY ME AND ENTER THE PORTAL!"

The tauren didn't know who this Magtheridon was and everything seemed to be in a haze. He was still searching for his assailant and finally he saw him. An elf. The Tauren let out a threatening roar of defiance as the elf pulled back the string of his bow.

The roar echoed across the bio-dome only to be cut off unnaturally. The final arrow pierced Faquarl's heart and the tauren knew it was over. As the world seemed to slow down Faquarl thought back to the beginning. He had planned on leading the Grin to salvation and it was fitting that he should die. For the Grin was an entity that would never know peace and like every foe they seemed to face, the idealist was meant to fall before the might of the Grin.

Unknown

Ashenrock turned his head toward Faquarl just in time to see the second arrow hit. He was too far away to do anything about it. The final arrow hit Faquarl, cutting short his cry. It was too late. He watched in vain as the Elf walked off with the staff, leaving the motionless tauren lying in a heap next to the portal. Ashenrock shifted seamlessly from his ursine form to that of the stormcrow, climbing high into the air while gracefully avoiding missiles both magic and not.

From the air he watched as Felora and Yalim descended on the fallen Warlord. "What is his condition?!" He cried as he finally drew closer. He hit the ground in his Tauren shape, wildly scanning the area for more enemies. Rock caught a quick glance from Felora "He's not breathing." She said in almost a whisper.

All Ashenrock could think was "How lucky for a Druid to die here in this place...the only forest left on this forsaken land. Should we commit him to this land, or take him with us?" The answer came from a voice he could not place. "Take him through! We will not leave him behind!". Ashenrock looked down on the old tauren. His face was still and calm. Ashenrock studied it a bit and shuddered, suddenly realizing that his friend and teacher had been lost...and with it, the Grin's one true voice of reason.

"Take him through. We will not leave him behind." He ordered solemnly

Unknown

"So let me get this straight..." Demonaro said with a perplexed look on his face.
"Faquarl is dead, Gorfrunch is dead, Arkonn killed him, Agho'linn is trying to save you from the wrath of A'Dal, A'Dal is imprisoning the Grin in Garadar, Suncrown is untrusted, and to top things off...you were made Sythegar just before Gorfrunch died?"

"Yes." Ashenrock answered his younger brother with a nod.

Demonaro blinked a few times "I hope you understand, now, why I don't live with the clan..."

Ashenrock let out a sigh. "This is no time for jokes, brother. Our clan is at a cross-road and there is a lot going on. I need you and the Betrayed with me now."

Rock stood and looked out over the crystal waters next to the Revantusk village where Demonaro and Jin'tal made their home. "Gorfrunch is dead because he betrayed the clan. Arkonn killed him to put an end to his treachery...and to avenge Faquarl's death."

"You know this for fact, brother?" Demonaro said, almost mockingly.

"There is no other explanation. Gorfrunch betrayed our location in the Swamp. It's how the Alliance found us so quickly. His crusade to keep the fight alive put us all in danger...and even killed Faquarl. My loyalty lies with the Grin, brother. I honor Gorfrunch and will never forget the faith he had in me. In the end though, it was his own vanity and ego that killed him...Arkonn was simply the tool of his destruction. I was naive and blind to the signs in front of me at the time...but looking back...it's all quite clear."

Demonaro looked on his older brother with awe. "You've come a long way from a simple healer. I will follow you back to Garadar...I will even wear the Grin's colors. For nothing more than to support you and the allies you've made. Jin'tal will follow as well...he hated not being with you from the begining."

"I need you to assume a healing capacity within the clan, Demo. I'm sure that will please you."

Demonaro grinned widely. "Thank the Earthmother."

"Now comes the mountainous task of trying to convince the other officers that Gorfrunch's death was his own doing. This will not be easy. We have sympathizers within our officer ranks, but I fear Pokes and Grimnir will never be able to see their Warchief's mistakes. I only hope, at least, that I can convince them that we don't seek to dishonor Gorfrunch...but only to vindicate Faquarl's death and Arkonn's honor."

"What is your plan?"

"For now we gather as much information as we can. We also have to find a way to escape the watchful eye of A'Dal. While the Grin recovers and regroups, I doubt we'll be much of an offensive threat...though I pity the idiots that mistake our restructuring as weakness. I will stay as far away from guild politics as possible for now as I need to feel people out...see if I can sway them to believe me. I'll start with those I trust most: Yalim, Felora, and Bellmont. Then I'll see what they suggest."

Ashenrock looked at the seemingly empty corner of the hut. "Betrayed. I need you to poke around the guild...listen to the clan...see what they have to say. Don't attract too much suspicion, though."

"Ow didja know I was `ere, mon!" Jin'tal stepped from the shadow.

"Let's just say that I wouldn't eat any more mithrilhead trout before you start your next reconnaissance mission..." Ashenrock smiled wryly at his old friend, but then his face became somber. "Now if you will excuse me. I have the sad task of escorting Felora and the body of our fallen Warlord to his final resting place."

Unknown

There was no way that Felora could have carried Faquarl's body on her own; Ashenrock had kindly offered to make the journey with her. She had every intention of making sure that Faquarl's wishes as to where he would be buried were fulfilled, although the spot she had in mind was perhaps not the one that he would have chosen. What remained of her mentor and friend lay securely wrapped in a linen shroud, fitted with a carefully carved wooden mask as was the tauren custom. He had been gingerly placed astride Tamar's back and Felora was entirely prepared to walk beside her kodo on foot to Desolace.

A sudden memory claimed her...the sounds of Faquarl's voice as he knelt in front of Tamar, one arm across the kodo's neck as he held the beast still so that Felora could file his horn down. He'd been kind to her that day, just before he had gone into the Emerald Dream.

She blinked back tears just as Ashenrock approached, a sturdy staff in one hand and a full pack over his shoulder.

"Are you ready, Felora?"

She wanted with all of her heart to scream "NO!", that she would never be ready, not to let go of him. But she simply nodded and moved to Tamar's head, grasping the reins in one hand and leading them out of Silvermoon.

"You're sure you want to go through with this?"

Ashenrock's voice met her ears as they slowly descended the stairwell into Maraudon. He knew the answer...he just needed to hear her reassure herself.

What she really wanted was to fall into the Emerald Dream and never wake again. But she had promised him.

"Aye, I'm sure," she answered quietly. "I owe him this."

The place was eerily quiet and it was surprising that the occupants of Maraudon let the two pass unchallenged. Ashenrock was relieved. He knew what a strain this was on Felora already; the last thing she needed was to have to fight her way through. He also didn't want anything to happen to the warlord's body on the way down. The old tauren was heavy, but on this day Ashenrock would not lose strength or resolve. He turned his attention to Felora. She moved through without saying a word and didn't dare look back. He very much hated to see her this way and would have done anything to relieve even a second of the pain she was obviously in. Ashenrock's natural empathy could feel every bit of raw anger and sadness pouring out of her soul. He had thought of nothing that would take that pain away and decided it better to simply be there for her, absorbing whatever he could of her sadness. He had been further relieved when she had accepted his offer to help her - he couldn't have let her do this alone. He knew what Faquarl had meant to her.

Creatures peered out of the dark corners, studying them as they moved, no doubt terrified of the druids. Even the dryads in the depths of the cavern gave no alarm as they passed. Felora shuddered. Someone was watching over them, that much was clear to her. She and Ashenrock made their way slowly through the watery caverns, the elevation becoming steeper until they finally stood before a broad chasm spanned by a land bridge, guarded by a pair of two very large, rocky golems. Felora stepped forward.

"Let us pass," she demanded.

The giants stirred, frowning. Felora waited, and when no reply came, she shifted easily into her ursine form and dispatched the nearest golem over the rocky ledge and into the water below. Ashenrock winced and weakened a bit when he felt the unbridled anger explode from her as she slammed into the beast. Just as she would have charged the second of the giants, a low hum began to reverberate through the cavern. Rock looked around, cautiously, for the source of the noise.

The giant before Felora suddenly rumbled and stepped back, passive. Beyond it, she could see the grassy platform that was the burial ground of Zaetar, jealously guarded by the round, stony form that was Princess Theradras. Returning to her tauren form, she stepped back beside Ashenrock. He shrugged at her beneath his burden and began walking down the rocky bridge. Felora followed warily. Ashenrock could feel pure, natural energy and was calmed. He sensed that no danger lay ahead. When they reached the elemental, her reaction was not one of blind rage as Felora would have expected. She looked up into the face of Therazane's daughter, pensive.

"Bring him," Theradras said, before moving away.

Ashenrock came forward and lay the warlord's body directly beneath the massive pair of antlers in the center of Zaetar's burial mound. He leaned in close to the body and whispered something that Felora could not make out. He then rose, stood at attention, and saluted his fallen comrade. He turned and with a lingering touch at Felora's shoulder, moved to follow the elemental to the edge of the grassy knoll. He waited, and whispered a silent prayer.

It had all come to this. Felora knelt in the grass before Faquarl, a scene that they had played out many times. Another memory assaulted her, the sound of her mentor's voice making her cringe as it resounded in her head.

"I did what I had to, I've told you that. It was just time for me to move on. You need to understand that, Felora."

The tears sprang unbidden to her eyes.

I'm going to miss you, sir, she thought. Things will never be the same. Never, never.

'Let him go, daughter.'

A feminine whisper at the edge of her mind, so soft that Felora at first didn't hear it.

'Let him go.'

"No!" Felora yelled in a flash of anger. "I don't want -"

Her voice died suddenly, lost in a low and painful sob. She fell to both knees and curled in on herself. Ashenrock started to instinctively move toward her but was stopped cold by some unknown force. He heard a familiar voice in his head say, "This pain is for her to bear alone, my son."

Reluctantly he returned to his place.

'You know he was tired of the war,' the voice continued in Felora's head. 'He deserves this rest.'

This will be forever, Felora thought defiantly from her prone position beside Faquarl's body. He isn't coming back.

'And he knew that. You knew it too,' the voice chided her gently.

I never told him, she thought suddenly with a pang of remorse.

'He knew. He knows even now.'

But I failed him, she thought with a fresh flood of tears. I wasn't there to protect him, Mother. He would be so ashamed of me right now.

"He is proud of you, Felora," said another voice from behind her. In her grief, her senses were dulled and she hadn't noticed Ashenrock finally allow himself to approach.

"But I'm an overemotional wreck," she said aloud, frowning. "He said so himself."

"You care. Empathy is not an easy trait to have."

Ashenrock winced inwardly even as he said the words. He could tell that Felora hardly knew who was speaking to her now; she was staring straight ahead, her violet eyes dark.

"It did nothing to save him," Felora said flatly, her voice catching.

"It was his time," Ashenrock said in a rational tone, nearly standing over her.

"But I wasn't ready," she sobbed, closing her eyes.

Ashenrock leaned down to scoop her from the ground.

"Come, Felora," he said, "let us leave the warlord to his peace."

Felora sunk inward and let herself be carried from the cavern. Her closure was complete, but deep down she knew that it would be a very long time before her heart opened again.

Unknown

"AWAKE!"

Faquarl sat straight up startled by the voice. His memories being taken back to his final moments, the druid roared and called a wall of roots to come out of the ground in front of him to protect from the incoming arrows.

"Do not be hostile. That battle has long since been over. You are lucky to have been respected by followers of the earth mother. For they are the reason that we may speak now."

Faquarl was speechless, he had heard this voice before. He took the moment to evaluate his surroundings for the first time. He heard water falling heavily into a lake and saw that he was sitting upon a rock on top of a grassy overhang.

"How did I get here? I was just fighting in Outland. I was just shot," his hand rose to touch his chest where the first arrow had pierced him, "...in Netherstorm."

"That was not the question I expected, but you were never one to fit the mold of your brethren. This is not truly Maraudon, well not the one we last met in anyway."

"Yes, this is the Dream. Which is why I ask how I have ended up here. The Dream is tied to Azeroth, not Outland. If I perished then my conscious existence should have ceased to be."

"You did die young one. You're here because more of the Taurahe brought you to me. I have awakened your soul to enter the Dream."

"Why? I don't want to be here! The Nightmare is too powerful! I have fought my wars. I have served my time! I DO NOT WANT TO FIGHT HERE AS WELL!"

"I know young one. You were not awakened to fight the Nightmare, but your fight is not over yet. Your friends have brought a terrible evil to the Dream by bringing you back to this world. It saw its opportunity as soon as you crossed the portal and fled from within you."

Faquarl was livid at the news. He didnt know what she was talking about. What evil did he foster inside of him? Then it struck him. The staff! What did the voice call itself? Magtheridon? The demon must've entered his essence through the staff. Or at least part of him did.

"I was foolish..."

"You were fooled. Your time has been served in the mortal realm, but you have one more war to fight. This one was started by you and you are the only one with knowledge of this new taint. The Green Dragonflight may assist you, although your history with them has not been well received I assure you. You may also contact mortals with affinity to he earth like yourself. May you serve Therazane well."

"Thank you for your blessing Princess Theradras."

Faquarl shifted into a storm crow and flew out of the same opening he had escaped with Naralex decades earlier.

Recovery and editorial notes

Editorial review complete. The original recovered source remains unchanged outside this generated site.

Canonical source
posts_from_dev/General Roleplay/Afterlife.txt
Source SHA-256
58386a3cebb7397bbf0c7cedcb1fb4c40bad87b24f9293ac7051f7066b219fda

Duplicate provenance

No suppressed duplicate copy.