(no subject)
We dun gone to the Elf City, the unit-we, for meeting the Elf Guards what we be working with. Got a special invite even, in the mailbox. First time that. First one they make what dun be in someplace I ain't allowed to go. Never been to Elf City before, but they be a twist in the Shattered City, and I twist the nether and get there. Following the map-she they gave me, I find the spot they gathering. Looking too hard to pay mind to the buzzing.
Elves-them, they all look the same. Not really, but mostly. Like they city. Like all about they city. Fit a pattern. Oh sure. That one got red hair an' that one got sunshine, but they all the same. I dun take out my scraps to keep my hands busy, so I don't pay no nevermind to the spirits what whispering in my ears. I still listening to the elf lady-she and the Augur, but they tell me put away, and I do.
Walking back to the city we go, and the whispers getting louder. They's wailing at that great scar what run through they city. Spirits crying in pain and shame for what was done them. Ain't none seemed to hear it, neither.
Getting closer, getting louder. Elf lady-she, what with the glass in her eye, she don't see. It ain't about seeing, but about hearing. She don't hear. She ears too full up with she own voice and she orders keep the city clean. But it ain't clean she keeping. It -what the word?- sterile. Sterile. Lifeless. Souless. All hyped up on arcane, but no life. No spirit. She point out the poor Shu'halo lady-she, like she some attraction. And I hear the grass and the trees-them crying out. They put inna box, inna cage, so they not really grass and trees no more.
And then we go to that place
Blood and shadows
Ain't like no battlefield. This our allies-them do they ownselves. The spirits so loud and hurtful. I had to go lean against the tree-she. Still trying to be a tree. In that city, with she roots down in blood and shadow, she not be a tree for long. But I rest my face against she, feeling the earth what feed she, the air what she breathe, the water within she, the sunlight, like fire, on she leaves. I hear her crying that she want be a tree, that elves-them making her somewhat else. Somewhat that look like a tree but ain't got the heart of a tree. Like worked metal in the shape of a tree, no heart, no soul, but looking pretty and tree-like. All full up with arcane, as if that better than spirit. Better than life.
The Augurs, they dun try make me go down that den of darkness and I say no. I woulda waited till they done, met them back in sunlight. The Augur-elf I figure for not to understand, but the Augur-troll, him what did go to the sunken temple with, him I figured for understanding. But he dun tell me go back to barracks, wait for punishment. Spirits say no. Horde bigger than one militree what can't hear the spirits' pain.
Not that den of darkness
Not the blood and shadows and screams
They killing they own city.
We letting them.
Elves-them, they all look the same. Not really, but mostly. Like they city. Like all about they city. Fit a pattern. Oh sure. That one got red hair an' that one got sunshine, but they all the same. I dun take out my scraps to keep my hands busy, so I don't pay no nevermind to the spirits what whispering in my ears. I still listening to the elf lady-she and the Augur, but they tell me put away, and I do.
Walking back to the city we go, and the whispers getting louder. They's wailing at that great scar what run through they city. Spirits crying in pain and shame for what was done them. Ain't none seemed to hear it, neither.
Getting closer, getting louder. Elf lady-she, what with the glass in her eye, she don't see. It ain't about seeing, but about hearing. She don't hear. She ears too full up with she own voice and she orders keep the city clean. But it ain't clean she keeping. It -what the word?- sterile. Sterile. Lifeless. Souless. All hyped up on arcane, but no life. No spirit. She point out the poor Shu'halo lady-she, like she some attraction. And I hear the grass and the trees-them crying out. They put inna box, inna cage, so they not really grass and trees no more.
And then we go to that place
Blood and shadows
Ain't like no battlefield. This our allies-them do they ownselves. The spirits so loud and hurtful. I had to go lean against the tree-she. Still trying to be a tree. In that city, with she roots down in blood and shadow, she not be a tree for long. But I rest my face against she, feeling the earth what feed she, the air what she breathe, the water within she, the sunlight, like fire, on she leaves. I hear her crying that she want be a tree, that elves-them making her somewhat else. Somewhat that look like a tree but ain't got the heart of a tree. Like worked metal in the shape of a tree, no heart, no soul, but looking pretty and tree-like. All full up with arcane, as if that better than spirit. Better than life.
The Augurs, they dun try make me go down that den of darkness and I say no. I woulda waited till they done, met them back in sunlight. The Augur-elf I figure for not to understand, but the Augur-troll, him what did go to the sunken temple with, him I figured for understanding. But he dun tell me go back to barracks, wait for punishment. Spirits say no. Horde bigger than one militree what can't hear the spirits' pain.
Not that den of darkness
Not the blood and shadows and screams
They killing they own city.
We letting them.