[ RPJournal: Airelin ] :: An Agglomeration of Thoughts

It was with a relieved sigh that Airelin fell onto her bed. She was oh so exhausted... glowing eyes stared at the canopy of the large bed, unfocused. She hadn't even bothered to take off half of her armor before she collapsed, she was just that out of it. Every limb felt like lead, and it had simply been too much work to remove the leggings that had become so familiar to her, as well as the boots. At the very least she managed to take off her chestpiece, helm, and shoulders, for those would have ruined the wonderful feeling she was basking in from doing absolutely nothing.

It had been one hell of a few months, she decided, looking back. She wasn't quite sure what hit her, but all of the sudden, she had the strangest urge to pack up her bags and start over. It wasn't as if she had much to leave behind; Arie had been living alone with a crappy, yet decent paying, job and no social life outside of her interest in studying undead. Yes, undead. For some reason, the undead fascinated her, the way they moved, how they were put together, what animated them. It was for that they called her strange: they, being the village-folk. Not that she had openly shouted her feelings about the undead to the world (who in their right minds would?), but they knew all right.


All because of him. It was all good and well, she supposed. Because of him, she hated men. And, if she really wanted to think about it that way, it was because of him that she had decided to do the craziest thing she had ever done – or even imagined doing – in her life.

It had hit her one day, while she was sitting on the couch, staring idly at one of her old textbooks. The class had been strange, but strange had been just the right speed at the time, and quite possibly one of the reasons she went from merely interested to being obsessed with the Scourge. It had been a half year study on life cycles, from the creation of life to the undeath. The teacher was cute, she was interested in both him and the subject, so she had taken it. Even now, so many years later, she could recall the animated look upon his face as he spoke in detail of the Passing, as he called it, and what came after.

But that was beside the point. She yawned, summoning the energy to take off the bracers that were starting to dig into her wrists from her resting her head upon them. A mood of restlessness had struck her. Why was she sitting at home, when there was the world to see? Why should she have to settle for pictures when she could experience and feel the danger herself? She had always liked a bit of danger and excitement, even in the boring life she had been leading.

It was with those questions running circles in her head that she made up her mind. Arie had more than enough money saved, it wasn't as if she did much with the money she earned; most of it had been put in the bank, and the rest went to food and more crazy things to feed her obsession.

No, she wasn't creepy, she was just a little weird.

Strong emphasis on “a little”.

So she had left enough money with the landlord, with whom she was on fantastic terms with, to convince him not to give her rooms out to anyone else no matter how long she was gone. As long as it was within the year, that was. With whatever she had left, and some supplies for the road, she had set off to Stormwind. From there, she had been directed to Northshire...

A holy warrior she had become since those days not too long ago.

Well, at least, she was trying to become. She wasn't half bad at it either – at least, in her mind anyway.

What she hadn't accounted for all those months ago in the safety and comfort of her own home, was how paranoid she had to be. Or at least, how paranoid she had become. There was so much she didn't know, so many creatures she discovered, fought against, and, sometimes, even lost to. So many creatures outside of her specialty, her scope, that she had to become accustomed to, that she had to study in order to learn how to fight them better. All of it made her brain hurt. Add that on top of the training she was receiving, the skills she had to pick up. Even the armor had been something she had to slowly adjust to...

She kicked off her boots and wormed herself out of her leggings before properly crawling under the cold blankets. She was mad, she really was.

But, thinking back on all she had learned, and all she had yet to learn, the sores really weren't so bad.

Really.

The pain would go away. She'd get used to it.

It was worth it, all the knowledge she was gaining, the experience that she so desperately craved...

Her eyes glued themselves shut, and it was with that thought that she drifted into the oblivion of sleep.