Post by Aethelfleda on Mar 17, 2006 9:59:53 GMT -5
"Now, really." Said Lady Wjrlag. "You've been sitting around your father's house for long enough, my girl. You had better learn that there is far more to life than cross-stitching and picking flowers in the garden."
Her daughter sat nervously to attention as Lady Wjrlag continued.
"Your father is not the most reasonable of men, and while we are still waiting for him to realise... well, I shall put it this way, Fleda. You were not sent by the Light to replace the daughter he was to lose, but we are still waiting for your poor father to see this. The fact that your poor sister Flossie is probably dead, or worse, seems to have driven him slightly mad."
Aethelfleda nodded.
"And, while he doesn't reproach you for your existence, it is perhaps best that you take a short holiday in our Stormwind town house... so that your poor father can mourn your sister's death (or worse) in peace."
"Yes, mother."
"And," Lady Wjrlag went on. "It might help you too, to be away from here for a while. But take my advice, child. The warriors are still hustling people to battle, and if you will listen to me, avoid them! Avoid them, and do not be drawn into a futile war, as your poor sister was."
"Yes, mother."
And so Aethelfleda left the tranquility of the small Dun Morogh settlement, and began the slow journey to Stormwind. She was especially looking forward to riding the tram, as she hardly ever had the opportunity to do so. ("Try not to sit next to an elf, dear." Her mother had warned her).
As she reached the family's old town house at last, she perceived an ugly wooden board nailed across the front door. On it were scrawled the words "Property recalled - due to debt on its owners part - KEEP OUT"
"Oh, dear." Said Aethelfleda. She turned her back on the building and headed for the tavern.
And for those few weeks, before her calling to the Inquisition (her mother was most displeased), understatement was her only friend.
Her daughter sat nervously to attention as Lady Wjrlag continued.
"Your father is not the most reasonable of men, and while we are still waiting for him to realise... well, I shall put it this way, Fleda. You were not sent by the Light to replace the daughter he was to lose, but we are still waiting for your poor father to see this. The fact that your poor sister Flossie is probably dead, or worse, seems to have driven him slightly mad."
Aethelfleda nodded.
"And, while he doesn't reproach you for your existence, it is perhaps best that you take a short holiday in our Stormwind town house... so that your poor father can mourn your sister's death (or worse) in peace."
"Yes, mother."
"And," Lady Wjrlag went on. "It might help you too, to be away from here for a while. But take my advice, child. The warriors are still hustling people to battle, and if you will listen to me, avoid them! Avoid them, and do not be drawn into a futile war, as your poor sister was."
"Yes, mother."
And so Aethelfleda left the tranquility of the small Dun Morogh settlement, and began the slow journey to Stormwind. She was especially looking forward to riding the tram, as she hardly ever had the opportunity to do so. ("Try not to sit next to an elf, dear." Her mother had warned her).
As she reached the family's old town house at last, she perceived an ugly wooden board nailed across the front door. On it were scrawled the words "Property recalled - due to debt on its owners part - KEEP OUT"
"Oh, dear." Said Aethelfleda. She turned her back on the building and headed for the tavern.
And for those few weeks, before her calling to the Inquisition (her mother was most displeased), understatement was her only friend.