Filora's Trial of Sacrifice

The stories and lives of the Grim. ((Roleplaying Stories and In Character Interactions))
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Filora
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Filora's Trial of Sacrifice

Unread post by Filora »

Atticus had wanted to speak to her, so she inquired the next time she heard his voice over the hearthstone if he was available. He indicated he was and that she should head to the Rogues' Quarter in Undercity. Not her favorite destination; but she didn't expect Drinn's Forsaken husband to also be a fan of Silvermoon.

When she walked up, Feorn and Quezt were already there. Quezt was saying, "I came by to pick up some Widow Venom. It seems there's a meeting?"

"Only here te talk te Filora about her Trials. Ye may listen if ye wish," grunted the Dreadweaver. His accent always reminded Filora of Elrioch. He eyed her at her approach. "Filora."

"I suppose I have time," mused Quezt. "I rarely get these social interactions in the cities."

Feorn didn't say anything, though he looked on with interest. Atticus muttered, "I should be so lucky."

Filora looked amongst them, listening to the conversation. She didn't feel a particular need to say anything yet, preferring to watch the others interact, but apparently her silence irritated the Dreadweaver.

"Cat got yer tongue?" he asked.

Filora realized she should come up with something to explain her otherwise strange silence. "It's considered polite to not speak until spoken to by your betters," she said with a smile.

Atticus wasn't amused. "Only woman I let kiss up te me be Drinn. And I did speak te ye, then ye just stared at me like a dog watching a magic trick. Anyway." He eyed her. "Drinn says yer alright and that'd be enough fer me te give ye the proper tabard, but rules is rules."

"That they are," Filora agreed, and hoped that wasn't unctuous.

"The Trial of Sacrifice is upon ye. Tell me, have ye thought of what ye might sacrifice fer the Grim," he said.

Conscious of his, Quezt's, and Feorn's eyes on her, respectively evaluating, blank, and derisive, and collectively totaling five, Filora narrowed her eyes in thought. She hadn't thought much on it. She'd figured she'd wing it when it came up. Now, the truth provided inspiration. "I have thought on it... but little springs to mind. I'm not one to keep much." She spread her hands. "My being here is nearly all I have already."

Feorn let out a cough. Filora looked at him, and he shrugged. Filora looked back at Atticus, who appeared to be thinking.

"I know very little about ye," he said slowly. "There be folks who are simple, and folks who ye can look right through, and then there's folks like you."

This wasn't good. She'd thought she was doing a good job cultivating his opinion of her; not that it had seemed hard. Evidently, she'd assumed too much. Though she became wary, Filora kept her expression neutral as she watched him, carefully reading him as he went on.

"I have seen ye fight and have read yer reports. But I still don't know why ye fight, and who ye are."
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Filora
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Re: Filora's Trial of Sacrifice

Unread post by Filora »

"I suppose you wouldn't believe me if I said I'm exactly who I appear to be... little and dull as that appears to be?" Filora ventured, trying to sound humble.

Quezt occupied herself with her gun, as she had a habit of doing. Feorn mumbled something about 'little'. Filora kept her gaze on Atticus, though she briefly pondered making some remark about not having a vice like greed to define her so easily.

"Few who call themselves little and dull come te the Mandate," Atticus said.

Filora seized on the opportunity. "But that's why I am here... I want to be more," she said.

She thought she heard Feorn stifle a chuckle. Atticus said flatly, "Why?"

Filora opened her mouth to answer, but before she could, from behind her came a voice. "She fights.. Dear.. because she is Sin'dorei. She has suffered through the scourge and the Lich. Ask about her father."

Filora half-turned to see Drinn had appeared. The elf rogue folded her arms, looking at Atticus.

It took Filora a moment to work through what Drinn had said, so unexpected was it. Her father? What on Azeroth did he have to do with this? She scrambled for a verbal position.

Atticus said, "What about her father?"

Good question. Drinn glanced at Filora and nodded toward Atticus. Filora floundered a little.

"My family was destroyed by the Scourge. My father came back, as a death knight..." She hoped the simple truth was what Drinn was looking for, and that how it was relevant would be quickly made apparent.

Quezt had stopped working on her gun at the shift in conversation. She checked her surroundings, then lowered her head again, though she was still listening.

"Explain te me how the Scourge led ye te the Mandate," Atticus told Filora.

She was pretty sure it hadn't, but decided to couch it in uncertainty so that Drinn could steer her wherever she thought this was supposed to be going. "I don't know that it did... Well, maybe it did..." She glanced back at the elf rogue, who returned the glance but didn't speak.

"And what became of yer death knight pappy?" Atticus asked. He sounded rather like she did, that he wasn't sure what the point of this line of questioning was, but he was willing to follow it on Drinn's word.

Filora shook her head. "I don't know. He disappeared again."

This wasn't going well at all. She needed to get this back under control, going in the right direction. She glanced at Quezt and Feorn, a little perturbed that they were present. It was so much easier to manage people's opinions of you one-on-one. She took a deep breath and spoke again.

"What I do know is, my family was prestigious before the Scourge invasion. I grew up poor. Nothing wrong with that," she added, aware of Atticus' background, "but it always felt like something was taken from me, I guess." She hoped they'd seize on that. It was a little genuine emotion, and people loved that.

"Heh. Always nice to see a noble family laid low," Feorn said.

Her family hadn't technically been noble, but she was too busy concentrating on this impromptu interview to be amused by Feorn's misconception. "I guess Drinn thinks that has something to do with why I'm here..." she said to Atticus. "I don't know. I don't introspect much." She let her confusion show, knowing it would give her words credence.

Drinn interjected with a clipped tone. "Your home was taken from you. Your family was taken from you. Your culture was taken from you." She raised an eyebrow. "You're not daft."

Apparently she was, because Filora still couldn't find a way to tie this all together. Quezt had stopped working again.

"Aye Drinn, but by the scourge. Not by the Alliance," Atticus said.

"This is true," Drinn said, "but it was the Alliance who failed to come to our aid when our people were neutral. In their lands we were fodder, and distraction."

"Aye Drinn, wiser than me as ever." Atticus looked back at Filora.

She sort of understood where Drinn was going with that. But she was leery of assigning herself that motivation. She had never demonstrated significant loyalty toward Silvermoon or the Sin'dorei, and it wasn't a charade she cared to adopt. Too exhausting.

"If ye had te guess, Filora, what of you and yer past may keep ye from serving the Mandate as best ye can?" Atticus asked.

Filora folded her arms, trying not to scowl. This ought to be her trial of sacrifice, being forced to talk about herself like this in front of an audience. She should have brought Atticus a bribe. Maybe he'd have taken to that like Syreena did.

"If anything holds me back," she said reluctantly, "it's the fear of failing. Of trying to achieve something, to claim something, and losing."

It was the truth, actually, but using it suited her. A little truth salted the manipulation like nothing else. It gave them something to latch onto, a weakness revealed, when she kept her biggest ones still hidden.

Atticus' gimlet stare continued. "If the Grim gave ye a task ye knew you could not finish, and couldn't survive, what would you do."

"Would the Grim know I could not do it? If you didn't, I would inform you. If it was your goal that I fail, then I would in fact be successful, wouldn't I." She was pleased at that answer until Drinn spoke again.

The rogue elf lifted a finger and circled it towards Filora. "She's too busy trying to be smart... and tell you what you want to hear."

Filora stopped short at hearing the most accurate thing said of her thus far during her trials, if not in her entire life. Surely they didn't realize the depth of her calculation. No one did. Well, almost no one. She managed to keep the chagrin off her face through dint of sheer will.

Had she underestimated them? In her defense, or theirs depending on how one looked at it, she hadn't thought they were stupid; she'd simply assumed they wouldn't care enough to look deeply at her, not when she was giving them exactly what they wanted, without, she thought, being too obvious about it. People saw what they expected to see.

"Ye trying te tell me what I wish te hear, Filora?" Atticus asked, his voice lower.
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18:41:20 [Lilliana-TwistingNether]: I don't know how to play the game, just rp.
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Filora
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Re: Filora's Trial of Sacrifice

Unread post by Filora »

One thing Filora knew, and that was that you didn't give up on a bluff. Once you'd committed to it, the only reward to be had was riding it to the end. She'd see how this fell out. It wasn't looking too good at the moment, though.

"I'm not a priest. I can't read your mind," she said, while trying to think of how to manage this.

Drinn enunciated slowly. "Speak. Plainly."

Filora shifted again, uncomfortable and trying to conceal her irritation that came out of being discomfited.

Atticus' tone was uncompromising. "You're not a priest, but I do be a thief, and I know evading when I hear it. Answer the question."

Her temper frayed, and her words came out more honest than she'd intended. "Yes, I am. Because I'm trying to be what the Grim wants."

Self-conscious, she flicked a baleful look at Feorn, hoping he would get the same treatment sometime, and that she got to watch. Thankfully, he was silent.

"So how many times have ye bent the truth during yer inquisition?" Atticus inquired. He was as unstoppable and inevitable as a landslide.

"I haven't bent the truth," she said, trying to keep her voice from being protesting, trying to handle herself, to sound reasonable and trustworthy.

"No. You just don't speak it," Drinn said.

Her temper snapped. She threw down her hands. "I answer everything you ask of me! I am trying to be what the Grim wants! Just tell me what that is!"

Her charade skirted so close to, flirted with, the truth. But they didn't really know the whole truth. She was still in control. She closed her hands into fists and gathered her presence of mind. The charade was adapting. If she gave them something, a little something, they might yet accept it. She saw Drinn's lips quirk to one side in an unidentifiable expression.

"Do you remember the farm question, Filora?" Atticus asked.

"Yes, I remember the farm question."

"Ye be out ranging and find a farm what provides grain te Stormwind. The family be peaceful folk, but they serve the war in their own way. Do ye pass them by? And if, in the house, ye find a child, do ye let it survive?" Atticus had posed that scenario to a group of new Supplicants while Filora observed. One and all of them had tried to come up with inventive answers, or had baldly given ones that were too simple to be easily swallowed. Filora had mentally chided them for their lack of finesse.

"Answer, with truth, only truth, and the whole truth."

Quezt's one eye was staring at her. Drinn was biting her tongue to keep silent. And Filora couldn't help but craft an answer, though she did so quickly.

"If it did not impede the mission I was on, and it did not seem likely to cause a greater retaliation than we could afford, I would lay waste to the farm, take its resources, and leave nothing behind."

Atticus and Drinn exchanged looks, and made a few signals at each other in a sign language Filora didn't know. She lifted a hand and rubbed her temple. This could be so simple. She didn't understand why they were making it difficult.

Atticus dropped his hands. "Drinn, second Hand of the Mandate, as yer Dreadweaver I ask ye te assist me in this inquisition."

Drinn raised an eyebrow, actually looking a little surprised. "Mhm?"

"Ask her what ye think she ought te be asked."

Drinn exhaled lowly and looked to the ground in a moment before padding closer to the group. Filora turned to face her, wary. It seemed the elf rogue wanted to help her, but what she thought she knew, Filora still wasn't entirely sure of. There were things Filora yet didn't know about Drinn.

"You would take out the farm. You would burn the field. You would kill the child.. unless maybe there was use. The simple question is why. Don't bother weaving something elaborate. If it's bloodlust, then it's bloodlust. If it's to be a part of something bigger, then it's that." She pointed at Filora again. "I know you know the Horde is failing. And I know you know the Horde aspires to what the Grim is."

How on Azeroth had Drinn extrapolated all this from the one conversation they'd had? Even Filora wasn't this inventive. She realized, abruptly, that Drinn was seeing something in her of her own self. How, or why, Filora had no idea, but she grasped that realization like a lifeline.

"So without all the frilly bows and words, say it," Drinn finished. Atticus nodded appreciatively.

In a split second, Filora made a choice. Drinn wanted Filora to admit a motivation that was understandable. She wanted to feel like she'd uncovered something she'd known was there all along. Filora could try and guess Drinn's deepest motivations and use those. It was what the elf rogue was hoping for, that they were the same, deep down. But Filora's position here was too shaky. She didn't trust she could keep up that bluff. One wrong word here, and they'd conclude she could never be trustworthy.

Something close to the truth it was, then.

She looked away, folding her arms again. "Because I need someone to tell me what to do," she said quietly.

Still not the whole truth. But she could see the narrative forming, and began to direct it.

"What?" Atticus said, taken aback.

Drinn looked to Atticus and motioned to Filora with an open upturned hand. "There you go. She needs a path, and she knows our path is the one to take."

Filora nodded faintly. "No one is stronger or more sure than the Grim of their path."

"Ye be a woman grown. What do ye mean ye need someone te tell ye what te do?" He sounded somewhere between skeptical and incredulous, Filora thought. Feorn let out a hearty chuckle. She continued to ignore him, though she felt her ears turning pink. This was not the most flattering portrayal of herself, but that did make it all the more convincing. Atticus and Drinn were listening to her now.

"Because left to my own devices I accomplish nothing. I'm useless. I can be part of something greater with the Grim."

Atticus appeared to think about that for awhile. Eventually he said, "Reapers, Quezt, and Drinn. What can the Grim ask of someone who don't have their own ambitions apart from what they be told? What sacrifice can they offer?"

Her shoulders relaxed marginally. It wasn't the neat victory she'd intended at the start. But it would do.
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18:41:20 [Lilliana-TwistingNether]: I don't know how to play the game, just rp.
21:31:21 [Ulrezaj-TwistingNether]: What are we without the bw?
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Filora
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Re: Filora's Trial of Sacrifice

Unread post by Filora »

Quezt looked down at the slimy cobblestones on which they stood. She had only recently passed her own trials, Filora knew. But she answered the question with utmost seriousness.

"I am like her. I lost everyone I loved to an invasion of undead. I was on my own for a long time outside, given only tasks from people I didn't really know. I was frail, weak. I didn't know any better. All I had was my gun, and my grandfather's words. For me, I was naive... I thought that if I just did their tasks, their chores, I would get to a goal, something to keep me going."

Filora waited patiently, while affecting close attention. The frail Forsaken hunter had an endurance to recommend her, but not much else. Her tremulous voice continued.

"When I was in the heart of battle. I couldn't do what I was told. I panicked. I became afraid. It was there I lost my innocence, and my lack of a path. I had to make my own choices. My own beliefs."

Atticus seemed to be waiting for some sign that the Forsaken hunter had reached the end of her line of thought. Filora wondered if Quezt even knew where she was going. Then, Quezt fixed Filora with her one good eye. Filora blinked.

"We are a lot alike," the Forsaken hunter said. "We have both lost much."

"I don't feel fear," Filora said, without thinking.

"No, but you have no path," Quezt said, her half-gaze unwavering.

"That may be true," Filora said, more carefully.

"If you have nothing, sacrifice yourself. Would I had nothing, I would throw myself into the heart of battle."

Atticus held up his hand. "What does that even mean, sacrifice yerself?"

Quezt searched for an explanation. "She is... innocent..."

Feorn guffawed. Filora felt her eyebrow twitch.

Atticus pressed, "Does it mean she ought te give us all her time? We got all her time. Do it mean that she fights fer us? She already does."

Filora offered her own guess. "She's saying I should sacrifice my mind, and be mindless following the orders I'm given."

"From what ye just told me, ye already are," Atticus said to her. Filora tried to think of how to readjust that, but didn't get a chance.

"No. I'm not." Drinn spoke up. Their attention turned to the elf rogue. "If they have nothing else... then they sacrifice themselves. And while I do know that's not really a part of the whole scheme of the trial.. they are already doing that. They are evolving and want to do that under the Mandate."

Feorn muttered something about rhetorical nonsense. Filora wondered why he was here. He had even less reason than she.

"I mean to say. To be able to choose a path, she must first understand her own," Quezt finally concluded.

Drinn nodded. "I am saying you are already sacrificing with change. And what the small Forsaken is saying is rather.. wise."

Atticus seemed to draw something from all that. He turned back to her. "Filora."

She looked at him, wondering what came next.

"The Grim don't be the place fer simple soldiers. Grim don't be fodder what only follows orders. If ye want te be more, The Grim will make ye more, and it begins with yer Trial of Sacrifice. Ye must abandon this idea ye have that you, alone, cannot accomplish. Ye must lose this sense that ye are useless. I will not have useless reapers and adherents."

She'd accept that. She hadn't expected that in saying she had nothing to offer, she'd have to offer up her... nothing, but it made a certain amount of sense.

"Fer yer trial of sacrifice, I command ye te lead Grim te achieve something significant, what they have never achieved before. What that means, exactly, that's fer you te figure out."

"To... lead?" Filora hadn't been expecting that.

"Aye, to lead. Let me know what ye decide, te see whether I approve."

Filora tapped her fingers on her folded arm as she mulled that over. Finally, she nodded slightly.

"And if ye fail, Filora ... as I said, I will not have useless reapers and adherents."

Of course. She thought about what she told him earlier about her aversion to failing and decided now was not the time to rehash that point. "I understand."

"Ye are dismissed."

She wasn't about to stick around. Casting one glance at Drinn, whose expression remained unreadable, Filora took her leave.
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18:41:20 [Lilliana-TwistingNether]: I don't know how to play the game, just rp.
21:31:21 [Ulrezaj-TwistingNether]: What are we without the bw?
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Filora
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Re: Filora's Trial of Sacrifice

Unread post by Filora »

It had been two months, and to say Atticus was growing impatient was an understatement. He'd threatened to mail her boxes of poisonous spiders at one point. Helpfully, Feorn had chipped in with some ideas. Filora figured she really needed to find something to do for her third trial.

But to lead someone in doing something significant that they'd never accomplished before -- that wasn't her thing. It had been easy enough to direct Treasure Seekers, but Xaraphyne had been the one to set it all up. All Filora had had to do was keep things going. It didn't require any... imagination. Really, that was the problem. Filora was not exactly creative.

But it was thinking about her time with Treasure Seekers that finally gave her an idea.

When a small ding from her hearthstone announced someone had re-attuned to the guild frequency, Filora checked and saw that it was the person she was looking for. She put down her jewelcrafting tools and picked up the stone.

"Drinn, are you busy?" she asked.

The rogue's disembodied voice came back. "No."

Her tone was always so hard to read. Filora frowned. "There was something I thought I'd show you, if you had the time," she offered.

"Attune me, Filora," Drinn said.

Filora changed the channel on her stone and spoke again as she rose from her seat and went to go mount her talbuk. "Meet me in Silvermoon?" she asked.

"Hmm." Drinn almost sounded a little surprised. "On my way," she said.

A few portals and an orb of translocation later, Filora was waiting by the great fountain for Drinn to arrive. She looked at the moss growing between the cobblestones and wondered how long it had been there. It was probably older than most of the non-elves Filora associated with.

Drinn rode up on her crimson deathcharger, and Filora waved. Drinn just nodded in greeting. Her expression was as hard to read as her voice had been; Filora summoned her best friendly smile.

"Good to see you again," she said to the rogue.

"And you," Drinn replied. "Haven't heard you stepping around the guild halls as of late."

"Yes... I haven't been able to keep up in Draenor." Filora let herself sigh a little. "I'm just not very good at fighting."

Drinn lifted a hand dismissively. "But you're good at praying. There will always be someone willing to be your shield with the right incentive."

"Yeah, once I get catch up to everyone else. That's the hard part." She shook her head. "But it's been frustrating me that I haven't been able to complete my last trial, either. I'm usually the last to do something new... helping someone else do something they've never done before? I couldn't think of anything."

"Yeah... Atticus didn't make that one very easy for you." Drinn's shoulders lifted into a small shrug.

"Pretty sure it's his job not to, right?" Filora said dryly.

Drinn tilted her head from side to side as if she was not quite decided. "Mm. He's a victim to his whims. So sometimes, yes."

Filora decided it would be wisest not to offer her own opinion on that. "Well, I finally thought of something. I mentioned before I used to lead a pretty large group of folks, right?"

"No, I don't think you had. At least not to me. What's your idea?"

"Oh, yeah, they were called Treasure Seekers. One of the places I led them through was Zul'Aman. No one goes there anymore, though... and I was guessing you never had?"

Drinn's face contorted slightly. ".. the place with the trolls?"

Unsure of what that reaction meant, Filora nodded a little. "Just outside Silvermoon, in the Ghostlands."

"Yes, I'm aware of the tribe," Drinn said.

"And they have these riding bears..." Filora went on. "Even if they're not your style, it makes a nice statement, doesn't it?"

"Indeed they do." Drinn leaned forward on her saddle and whispered, as if sharing a secret, "I have a little... hobby.. keeping my stables full."

"Perfect!" Filora said, pleased that Drinn seemed interested. "So, want to go kill some trolls?"

"Do I want to go kill some trolls?!" Drinn exclaimed. It was the most animated Filora had ever seen her. "You just made my damned day."

Filora laughed. This might just work. "Let's go!" she said, and turned her mount toward the gates.

They arrived at Zul'Aman in short order. As they prepared to open the gates, Filora turned to Drinn. "We'll have to move fast to take them by surprise."

"Ohh. That I can do." Drinn's lips curled. Filora grinned back, and together they struck the gong.

What followed was a whirlwind of mad dashing, spinning daggers, and crashing Light. Drinn followed where Filora led -- except when Filora fell off a cliff, but that was for the best. In the end, all four guardians of the Amani were slain, and the last prisoner they freed was running around the room, turning out treasure that Filora and Drinn happily picked up.

Then they came to an Amani war bear that was left without a handler. Drinn took its reins and said, "Oh.. my."

Filora thought the rogue seemed pleased. She looked at the bear, which was rather round. "It's a little chubby, but nothing wrong with that," she said.

"Nothing wrong with that at all," Drinn agreed.

Filora smiled at her. Drinn was slender and well-muscled, herself, being a rogue. Filora's thoughts were interrupted when Drinn spoke again.

"Hmm. Well.. Thank you. I'd say killing trolls would have made my day but a new.. chubby thing. Well.."

Filora laughed, and Drinn offered a silly, unpracticed grin. "I guess I don't really offer much to the Grim, but every little bit helps," Filora said modestly.

"I think you have plenty to offer them," Drinn said.

"You do?" Filora said carefully.

"Of course. Why wouldn't you? We all bring our merits to the table."

A little embarrassed by the frank statement, Filora spread her hands. "I'm not as strong as some... like you. I mean, even comparing my praying to your fighting."

Drinn lifted her shoulders in another small shrug. "So you train more and then I drag you kicking and screaming through some muddy battles."

Filora grinned a little. "Not really kicking and screaming... Thank you for letting me show you this," she said.

"Thank you for showing me," Drinn responded. She petted the bear. "I imagine you'll be mentioning this to Atticus?" she added.

Filora nodded. "Do you think he'll approve?"

"Good," Drinn said. "He better."

Amused, Filora smiled. "Or else what?"

Drinn teetered from the balls of her feet to her toes, feigning innocence. "I might know what annoys him... a lot."

"That'd be a fun thing to know," Filora said with interest.

Drinn laughed under her breath, "Sort of a martial privilege."

"Yeah, I guess it would be," Filora agreed.

"But I'm totally prepared to use it if he's being.. all... Atticus like," Drinn said.

"I appreciate that." Filora smiled at her.

Later on, she composed a missive for Atticus.
Dreadweaver Atticus Grace,

I have done what you commanded and led another Grim in doing something they've never done before. I showed Drinn the way through Zul'Aman to obtain an Amani Battle Bear.

It was not a difficult task -- but it was one I knew how to do. I may not be the strongest fighter, and I may lag behind in my training. But I bring my own set of skills and experience to the Grim, one that can be found nowhere else. It took me some time to understand this, but now that I do, I'm prepared to set aside my reluctance and fully commit myself to the Grim.

Filora Livlet
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Last edited by Filora on Mon Dec 22, 2014 1:24 am, edited 1 time in total.
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18:41:20 [Lilliana-TwistingNether]: I don't know how to play the game, just rp.
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Drinn
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Re: Filora's Trial of Sacrifice

Unread post by Drinn »

((That was really cool of you Filora. Thanks for including me!))
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Atticus
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Re: Filora's Trial of Sacrifice

Unread post by Atticus »

Filora,

Drinn told me to accept your final trial, "or else."

So, okay.

Come to the next office hours and we'll make it official. You be an adherent, possibly even a reaper, depending on what clearance we can give you.

- Attie
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