In the Grim [[ Open ]]
Posted: Tue Jul 22, 2014 2:15 am
Xara wandered around the empty Grim guildhall. It was fairly early and it seemed no one was around at the moment. She wasn't staying in the barracks -- she and Fhen had a modest little home in the Barrens -- but she'd come by just to see.
It wasn't significantly different than any other guildhall she'd been in, honestly, even Sanctuary's -- though she wouldn't mention that last to anyone, even if she'd only been a visitor there. There were trophies, banners, postings, gathering areas, and the like. No outward sign that there was any cause for concern. Much like most of the members Xara had met and befriended thus far.
She stopped to look at a painting someone had commissioned of victory over something or another. The trolless had seen her fair share of victories, and hadn't been counting on attempting more. But Fhen had been too restless after several years of retirement with all the trouble afoot within the Horde. She had known better than to try to talk him out of it when he started considering returning to active duty; he wouldn't have been happy, even if she was able to keep him away. So she had followed him, and it was here they'd ended up.
"Are you sure this is the right move?" he'd nonetheless asked her last night. They hadn't had a chance to finish that conversation before it came time for the interview.
Of course to him it was a move. The world was a battlefield to him and every decision a strategic maneuver in the war. Xara knew and accepted that about him. She hadn't been surprised when, last night, he said he'd yet to meet an adult, Alliance or Horde, he considered "innocent." Yet that meant their views really weren't so different: the only difference between the people on each side was which side they stood on. Their opinion of the significance of that differed, but she could, and did, live with that.
Could she live with this?
She looked up at where the words "PEACE THROUGH ANNIHILATION" were displayed. You couldn't fail to see them, or forget they were there once you saw them. Kind of like what she'd glimpsed during conversations with Lilliana.
"Sometimes, the biggest tool is the one you can trust to get the job done," she'd defined it to Leyujin blithely, to his pleased acknowledgement. That was the Mandate of the Grim. No diplomacy. No compromise. Just the demand of peace through force.
Xara sighed quietly to herself. She hadn't thought it would be so hard. Fhen would fit in well enough, and all she had to do was not cause any problems. They'd contribute to the effort for peace to the extent to which they were comfortable. Then she'd told Syreena straight out that she wouldn't cross lines that the Grim explicitly mandated be crossed.
Xara strongly suspected the only reason the High Inquisitor had decided to give her a chance was the Forsaken's old friendship with Fhenrir. Otherwise, the trolless probably would have been laughed out of that tavern. They mocked her enough during the raid on Stormwind and Ironforge afterward, disparagingly asking if this Alliance fighter or that one was "innocent." She didn't care, per se, that they mocked her morals; she wasn't trying to convert anyone, and didn't need anyone's approval of her sense of right and wrong. But she wanted to belong, and it just drove home that she really didn't.
So she'd kept her mouth shut, and resolved to do so for now on. As long as no one harrassed her, she'd be a good little Grim, contributing what she could to their efforts. She had half a mind to lend her gathering skills to the guild bank as well as continue helping others achieve other objectives, like when she, Ulrezaj, and Lilliana had helped protect the Brewmoon festival later last night, and the Grim had received an official acknowledgement from the quartermaster. Xara was always glad to help out friends. Even when they had differences. Lilly had promised her they'd still be friends even if Xara didn't work out in the Grim, which was good.
It would all be worth it to support Fhen, and a group that was doing more good than harm, of which it seemed there were painfully few these days. Even if it was only slightly more good than harm.
She had a trial to pass, though, the first of three. She already knew what she meant to do. It was something she had attempted and failed before, and it galled her somewhat. It would prove to herself and to the others that she really was still an accomplished fighter, and not coasting on an old and probably mostly forgotten reputation. She might try it tonight, if she had time. Regardless, soon. Her sights were set on it.
Xara turned to wander back out of the guildhall, her thoughts beginning to lighten as she considered what to do with her day.
It wasn't significantly different than any other guildhall she'd been in, honestly, even Sanctuary's -- though she wouldn't mention that last to anyone, even if she'd only been a visitor there. There were trophies, banners, postings, gathering areas, and the like. No outward sign that there was any cause for concern. Much like most of the members Xara had met and befriended thus far.
She stopped to look at a painting someone had commissioned of victory over something or another. The trolless had seen her fair share of victories, and hadn't been counting on attempting more. But Fhen had been too restless after several years of retirement with all the trouble afoot within the Horde. She had known better than to try to talk him out of it when he started considering returning to active duty; he wouldn't have been happy, even if she was able to keep him away. So she had followed him, and it was here they'd ended up.
"Are you sure this is the right move?" he'd nonetheless asked her last night. They hadn't had a chance to finish that conversation before it came time for the interview.
Of course to him it was a move. The world was a battlefield to him and every decision a strategic maneuver in the war. Xara knew and accepted that about him. She hadn't been surprised when, last night, he said he'd yet to meet an adult, Alliance or Horde, he considered "innocent." Yet that meant their views really weren't so different: the only difference between the people on each side was which side they stood on. Their opinion of the significance of that differed, but she could, and did, live with that.
Could she live with this?
She looked up at where the words "PEACE THROUGH ANNIHILATION" were displayed. You couldn't fail to see them, or forget they were there once you saw them. Kind of like what she'd glimpsed during conversations with Lilliana.
"Sometimes, the biggest tool is the one you can trust to get the job done," she'd defined it to Leyujin blithely, to his pleased acknowledgement. That was the Mandate of the Grim. No diplomacy. No compromise. Just the demand of peace through force.
Xara sighed quietly to herself. She hadn't thought it would be so hard. Fhen would fit in well enough, and all she had to do was not cause any problems. They'd contribute to the effort for peace to the extent to which they were comfortable. Then she'd told Syreena straight out that she wouldn't cross lines that the Grim explicitly mandated be crossed.
Xara strongly suspected the only reason the High Inquisitor had decided to give her a chance was the Forsaken's old friendship with Fhenrir. Otherwise, the trolless probably would have been laughed out of that tavern. They mocked her enough during the raid on Stormwind and Ironforge afterward, disparagingly asking if this Alliance fighter or that one was "innocent." She didn't care, per se, that they mocked her morals; she wasn't trying to convert anyone, and didn't need anyone's approval of her sense of right and wrong. But she wanted to belong, and it just drove home that she really didn't.
So she'd kept her mouth shut, and resolved to do so for now on. As long as no one harrassed her, she'd be a good little Grim, contributing what she could to their efforts. She had half a mind to lend her gathering skills to the guild bank as well as continue helping others achieve other objectives, like when she, Ulrezaj, and Lilliana had helped protect the Brewmoon festival later last night, and the Grim had received an official acknowledgement from the quartermaster. Xara was always glad to help out friends. Even when they had differences. Lilly had promised her they'd still be friends even if Xara didn't work out in the Grim, which was good.
It would all be worth it to support Fhen, and a group that was doing more good than harm, of which it seemed there were painfully few these days. Even if it was only slightly more good than harm.
She had a trial to pass, though, the first of three. She already knew what she meant to do. It was something she had attempted and failed before, and it galled her somewhat. It would prove to herself and to the others that she really was still an accomplished fighter, and not coasting on an old and probably mostly forgotten reputation. She might try it tonight, if she had time. Regardless, soon. Her sights were set on it.
Xara turned to wander back out of the guildhall, her thoughts beginning to lighten as she considered what to do with her day.