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Story of a Night Elf 13 The journey to the moon wells would end up being a major inconvenience to me. I would not only end up going to the moon well we were originally sent to for our mission, but would end up traveling to all of the moon wells in the immediate area. It seemed as if the keepers of the moon wells wanted to use this as a teaching experience. I did not feel like we had the time to be going through this right now, we were in the middle of a battle, and the time being used could cost someone their life.
What made this situation even more annoying for me was the fact that I already knew the information that the keepers of the moon wells were wanting to teach. It was true that my Rogue friend did not know the information, and she seemed to be really moved by what she was hearing. This was still not the time or the place for this to be happening. After spending all day travelling to all of the moon wells, we finally came to the last one that was in our area. I thought that
Story of a Night Elf 12 When Vynom saw me limping back into camp,and being supported by the young rogue, she immediately ran over to help support my other side. She first burst into tears, then she covered my face with kisses, then she started to lecture me on what I did. After threatening my life if I ever did this to her again, she sat me down and removed the bandage to see how bad the damage was. It was a deep wound, but it could be healed. Vynom was determined to see to me before working on anyone else.
Vynom placed some healing herbs upon the wound, and then she stitched it up. As she was wrapping bandages back around the wound, one of our fellow Night Elves noticed the glowing necklace that I was now wearing. It turned out that the jewel was his, and was something that was extremely grateful to have back from the Furlbog's. He was not sure why the jewel would cause one Furlbog to have leadership over the others, but at the same time
MusicMusic is my religion
I put my faith in the melody
It offers no confusion
One can hear it's reality
I believe in things that move me
What I feel and what I hear
I feel the beat and rhythm
I hear it's purity
Story of a Night Elf 11 We charged in, and I attacked anything that I could get my hands on. The fighting was hard, and brutal, but I enjoyed every second of it. These monsters had attacked a peaceful Night Elf settlement, and I felt justified with every blow that I landed because of that fact. On a more personal note, these monsters had taken my house from me, and due that fact I felt a deep satisfaction every time one of them fell at my feet. I was on a mission that I would not be deterred from.
I fought through the town, and the longer I fought, the more that I realized that something was not right. No matter how long we fought, are how many of these beings fell at our feet, more just kept on appearing to replace their fallen comrades. There were not that many Furlbogs in this area, we should have taken care of all of them easily by now. It was then that I noticed what I assumed to be their leader. This particular Furlbog has a glowing
SolaceShe never slept well in the dark,
not without the children of the sun and moon
to guide her weary lids home.
Guided by the aftermath, she was always two steps behind.
What did the world look like to the girl who had been through it all?
Braved the heaviest of storms,
yet skipping over cracks in the pavement.
They said her eyes were the wisps of clouds before the storm.
To him they were reflections of pages overlooked.
She said it was like she lived the life of someone she had never met.
Laid out to dry, yesterdays news.
He knew her as the girl who was built to never collapse.
He wished he was too.
He loved her more than words could say, and yet her pain was such,
that at times, he feared she wouldn’t make it.
But on nights like these, even when it threatened to consume her,
he became convinced that somehow she would.
Southern modernizationBlack comedy market economy, banana peel political humour, cards with the cartels, the solution free room service and credit the union. Bolivar twist, ding dong dollar under control, valley of the coin desert with no value. Gangsta paradise, the victims are the people. Big mac and cold conflict interference a part of it all. In little Mexico you’d need a high horse to jump the great border wall that boasts its peak.
Viracocha melts waters unlike those it rose from, making waves of out of metal oceans to overtake the current south, re-steel, re-take, tech-mechs the entire south into neo-Machu Picchu, cyberpunk music moulding, reshaping old society into an new age, iron dynasty, fresh coat for an old, ancient look. The coattails of Quetzalcoatl if he were a modern man pull together the merge of future and long passed past..techno temples and the like.
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